Fates' Folly by Ella Norris Page B

comfort, to give him a
smile to show my appreciation, but his light gray eyes held a
shadow of despair I didn’t feel comfortable with, so I took the
cowardly way out.
    "Hey, are we going to go all, Mystery
Incorporated on this or what? Don't we have some investigating to
do?"
    Riley nodded and walked ahead. Feeling like a
jerk, I followed.
    Would it kill me to have a real conversation
involving real feelings without becoming an obnoxious moron? Don't
get me wrong, I'm a big fan of Scooby Doo, have two sets of jelly
glasses to prove it, but sheesh, I just reduced a moment of soul
sharing camaraderie to a quip having to do with a cartoon dog and
his stoner sidekick. Sometimes I can be such an asshole.
    Clyde Hedrick, the Headmaster of Morgan Hill,
was in Atlanta for a meeting, Ms. Gardner, his administrative
assistant informed us, as she directed us to a cluster of chairs
and a desk, grouped together in a small alcove. Dark cherry paneled
walls, oriental rugs in green and blue, leather furniture and a lot
of intricately placed knickknacks decorated the foyer and outer
office. Ms. Garner's little space was much the same except for one
large potted peace lily filling up a corner of the room, as well as
taking over a good part of her desk.
    I had to hide a snicker as she sat down. Her
solemn look of intellectual superiority -and matching brown suit-
was lost as she did battle with the leaves of the peace lily,
batting them out of her hair and face.
    "You are inquiring about Dr. Black?" she
asked, pretending there wasn't a giant green leaf in her face.
    I looked at Riley. Dr. Black? Couldn't
Sebastian have thought of a better name than that? Riley, of
course, ignored my inquisitive expression.
    "Yes. As I told the receptionist I spoke with
yesterday, my niece and I are Sebastian's only living relatives,
and distant ones at that. However, being his only living kin, we
had hoped to gather his things. I received a message," he looked at
his black pocket watch, "Friday afternoon, stating that I could do
so."
    We had talked about this on the way over. In
my excitement to see Morgan Hill for myself, I had forgotten it was
Sunday. Riley assured me it was not a problem, he had already
checked and discovered the school offices were open from 11 to 3 on
Sunday. I asked how he planned to get into Sebastian's
office/classroom, but he only smiled and said, ‘Godly gifts’.
    When Ms. Garner blinked twice, murmuring, "Of
course, of course you poor dears, we only hope Dr. Black is found
well," and busied herself going through a ring of keys from her
desk, instead of asking for our names, identification or how we
received a call to get Sebastian's stuff less than two hours after
the school reported him missing, I assumed this is what he
meant.
    While Ms. Gardner worked on finding the
correct key to Sebastian's office and classroom -a time consuming
task which consisted of matching the numbers printed on a drawer
full of different keys, to numbers on a list with each teacher's
identity- I wondered two things. One, why wouldn't a school like
Morgan Hill have a better system to keep track of extra keys, and
two, where did the peace lily come from?
    A peace lily was a beautiful plant with fat
green leaves and white flowers that looked like a delicate cup
curved around a tiny pearl colored thistle. They were deadly to
dogs and cats, and in the south, the traditional gift at funerals.
I had been stuck with four giant peace lilies after my mama died-
one from each of the four Baptist churches that lived and breathed
the morality in the town of Covington, where I grew up.
    Watching Ms. Garner swipe at the plant every
few seconds led me to believe that she wasn't any happier about her
acquired peace lily than I had been about mine. And, like all good
southern girls, I was nosy.
    "That's a beautiful peace lily," I said.
    Ms. Garner nodded, with a quick, "Yes," as
she continued to search her lists of numbers. Riley gave me his own
version of an inquisitive