Reboot Page 2

  The door opened again and in walked two more people: Ken Bruski, Chief Financial Officer, and Thomas Drew, Director of Information Services. Both men were balding, sporting gray beards, and wearing wire-rimmed glasses. That's where the similarities ended. Bruski was well over six feet and tipped the scales at somewhere near three hundred pounds. He wore a long-sleeved sports shirt and khaki pants. Drew - average height and weight – wore a suit that undoubtedly cost at least a thousand dollars, not counting the silk shirt and matching tie. When looking at Drew, the word "dapper" sprang to mind.

  John Mason looked around and said with a sigh, “Well, since we’re all here, let’s get this meeting started. Thomas, tell us what you’ve found.” They all took seats.

  Drew, reading from his tablet, said, "As directed by Dean John Mason, we've scanned the memories of the school-provided computers issued to Danielle and Amy Santos, residents and roommates at Walton Hall dormitory, and my technicians confirmed those were the computers used to send out the inflammatory material in question. The trail of outgoing email and Facebook postings began with these computers. There was also other similar material that had been sent earlier in the school year. The same electronic roadmap, different destinations. Same intent. We then conducted an internal search of all campus databases and found no other such material. It was definitely these two computers."

  Ellen interrupted. “Is it possible that someone else could have used those particular computers for the purpose of attacking other students?”

  Drew removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “We’ve been over this already. Possible, I suppose. But very unlikely. The files are password protected.”

  Ellen set her jaw. “I know we’ve been over this before, but I’m asking you if it is possible.”

  Drew opened his hands in a what-the-hell gesture. “Jesus Christ! I just told you.”

  Ellen leaned on the table, glaring at Drew. “In a court of law, unlikely is very different from impossible. Among other things, we are trying to determine whether or not the school should take legal action on this matter.”

  The matter on the table was the attempted suicide by a first-year student, Carol Murrow. Carol, a shy, overweight, first-year student at Philips, came from a low-income family of seven from Ohio. She wore thick glasses and when she spoke – which was not often and when she did, very softly – she spoke with a lisp. However, her abilities in math and science were nothing short of astounding. In sixth grade, she had been accelerated to high school algebra and biology classes – in both of which she earned A+’s. In seventh grade, she split her time between middle school and high school – attending high school advanced level math and science courses – again earning straight A’s. In eighth grade, she took high school SAT exams in math and science. To no one’s surprise in the New Franklin Ohio regional school district, she achieved perfect scores. Carol Murrow was a bona fide math and science genius. At the urging of the school superintendent, she applied to Phillips in faraway Andover, Massachusetts and was accepted with a full scholarship.

  Upon arrival, and after orientation, she was assigned to Walton Hall, the largest women's dormitory on campus. There, she came under the care and supervision of Mabel Henderson, the resident dormitory proctor. Well-meaning and competent, Mabel simply had too many students to look after. By the time she became aware of the bullying Carol was receiving, it was too late. One evening after supper, Carol Murrow swallowed most of a bottle of Excedrin, sending her into a coma. Fortunately, she regained consciousness in two days and then told the terrifying tale of one who had been pushed to the brink.

  An immediate investigation began, and it was as if a dam burst: many students – a frightening number, in fact – came forward and accused Danielle and Amy Santos, also known as Heckle and Jeckle, of viciously attacking Carol. The accused, of course, haughtily denied any knowledge of the incident. A strange tension settled over the campus. The school’s anti-bullying policy was about to be tested. In a court of law, taunting is not illegal. But if a private institution establishes a zero-tolerance policy to bullying, is proof beyond a shadow of doubt required? On the campus, word of this incident had spread like wildfire. And now, all eyes were on the administration.

  Ellen continued. “Tell us about the other materials you found on the suspects’ computers.”

  Drew shrugged. “Same type of material. Pictures. Taunts. Ridicule.”

  Ellen sat back. “And the targets? Have they filed a complaint?”

  Bruski spoke up. “They withdrew from school and have left the campus. The three students in question – by dropping out – have cost the campus,” Bruski paused and removed an Android from his pocket. He punched in a few numbers, and then said, “Just under one-hundred fifty thousand of lost and unrecoverable revenues.”

  Ellen said, “And now we just lost another student.”

  Bruski said, “That will be another fifty grand.”

  “Actually, no,” Ellen said smugly. “She was on a full scholarship.”

  Mason interrupted. “I don’t give a sweet Jesus about the money. We have three students who left us, seemingly because they were bullied, and now, we have a young woman in the hospital, driven to attempt a suicide, apparently by two fellow students, and I have to go meet with her parents tomorrow. What words can I possibly come up with that will ease their troubled minds? Can you imagine what they must be feeling? They send their daughter off to school, and this is what happens! What can I say to Carol Murrow that can do what? Bolster her spirits? Explain what happened? Provide some sort of comfort?" Mason shook his head and said with barely contained rage, "This is outrageous. We have a long-standing reputation at risk, but more than that, much more - a young woman who attempted to take her own life while under our care.”

  Ellen said, “We must proceed cautiously here. Until we prove these two were the…”

  Mason leaped to his feet. Speaking with uncharacteristic force, "I want those two off this campus today. Within the hour. This matter sickens me."

  Ellen said. “I must warn you…”

  “Zip it, Ellen. Prepare whatever you need to justify my actions. If we get sued, it won’t be the first time. And don’t worry; I’m taking full responsibility for this one, so if I get fired, so be it. This simply cannot happen here, on our campus, under our noses. We’ll meet again tomorrow to decide whether or not to involve the police, but for now, get these two off this campus. Drew, you get hold of campus police and make it happen.”

  Drew, who was having difficulty concealing his mirth over Ellen being told to zip it, nodded.

  Mason picked up his file and tablet. “I’m going to the hospital to check on our student. Meeting over.”

  3

  Gloves Off

  Nicole came in the back door, which opened into the kitchen. Rob was sitting at the table, the overhead light turned off, and an empty beer glass in front of him. "Nice of you to come home."

  Startled, she removed her black Calvin Klein cape and made a show of carelessly tossing it onto a chair. “What are you doing up?”

  “Waiting to talk to you. Where have you been?”

  “At the gym.” She turned on the kitchen light, walked to the refrigerator, removed a blender, and then poured herself a thick pink liquid. She wore Danskin workout clothes which clung to her sculpted figure, and leather boots with spike heels. Her blond, highlighted hair had that partially mussed look about it. Around her neck hung a gold chain, with matching gold earrings. Her lipstick and nails were ‘catch-your-attention’ red.

  “Until eleven-thirty at night?”

  “I went out for a drink with some friends.” She glared at her husband, making eye contact with him for the first time. “Is that what you want to talk about?”

  Rob gripped the empty beer glass, then released it and placed his hands flat on the table. “A fellow stopped me on the street this morning and told me his lover is also your lover. I believe his name is William.”

  Nicole studied her nails, turnin
g her back to Rob.

  “Well?” Rob asked.

  Without looking up, Nicole casually asked, “You believe this guy?”

  Through gritted teeth, Rob simply said, “Yes.”

  Nicole whipped around. “Well, he’s a liar! William is my PT, and that’s all.”

  “I think you’re the liar!” Rob shouted. “You lied about all those trips to the spa in the Berkshires, and you’re lying to my face right now!”

  “I went to the Berkshire Spa!” Nicole snarled.

  “That’s funny,” Rob said, his voice becoming calmer. “It was closed in the fall. I called and spoke to the answering service. Yes, you did go away for the weekend, but it wasn’t to the spa.”

  “So you’re checking up on me.”

  “Yep. Just today as a matter of fact.”

  Nicole sipped her pink liquid in silence.

  Rob gripped the beer glass again, fighting the urge to smash it over her head. “Are you having an affair with what’s his name – William? Yes or no?”

  Nicole set her empty glass down in the sink. “I don’t have to put up with this. I’m going to bed.”

  Rob jumped up from his chair and blocked her way. “The fuck you are! Answer my question…yes or no!”

  Nicole stepped close, right into Rob’s space. “YES! YES! I’m fucking William – and I love it. There, are you happy now?” They stood nose to nose, glaring at each other. Then, Nicole turned and walked across the kitchen and leaned against the counter. Stone cold, she sighed impatiently. “My father said it would come to this.”

  Rob took his chair, “What would come to this?”

  She looked at Rob. “Our marriage of course. He said you weren’t man enough to keep me happy for very long. And he was right.”

  “Ah,” Rob said, gripping his beer glass again. “So that’s why you’re out screwing around with your supposed personal trainer. Because I’m not keeping you happy. I see. I see.” Then he asked, “What about this house and your car and all this expensive shit? I’ve worked my ass off and given you everything you ever asked for.”

  “Excuse me, Robbie,” Nicole said sarcastically, “I do believe many of those belongings you are referring to were paid for by my father. He paid off the mortgage, and he gave me the car, those are his paintings hanging on the walls, not yours. Unlike you, he wasn’t always pinching pennies. He knew how to live.” Nicole sipped her pink drink and went back to examining her nails.

  Rob pursed his lips, released his beer glass, and sat back in his chair. This afternoon, I was in full-blown denial. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Then, I was insane with anger and wanted to murder the bitch. Now, all of a sudden…it's gone. This whole conversation is now just a pissing match. I should be screaming and throwing things. But why? What's the point? It's over. Curious. I guess this is what happens when you cross the point of no return.”

  Calmly now, Rob continued. “Interesting you should bring up your father. You may not know this, but to his work associates, he was a pompous, lecherous pig who felt entitled to whatever the hell he wanted regardless of who he hurt along the way. I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

  Nicole looked up with fire in her eyes, but after a moment, went back to casually examining her nails. “Your daughters are embarrassed to call you their father. Did you know that? They want nothing to do with you.”

  Another punch that should have hurt but did not. “That’s interesting. I feel exactly the same way about them.” He turned away. Yikes! When did this happen? There was a time when the girls would run to see me when I came home from work. I’d pick them up and they would squeal with delight. Now, we hate each other. Have I been that bad of a father? How did this happen? I most certainly have to own some of this…but so do they…and their rotten mother with her poison charm had something to do with all this as well. Just the same, I must suck as a father. Recovering, he said, “Speaking of our daughters, let’s talk about them. Specifically, their expulsion from school.”

  Nicole examined her nails.

  Rob asked, “Did you know about this?”

  Nicole haughtily tossed her head, moving a few strands of hair from her face. “This has been blown way out of proportion.”

  “Dean Mason said our girls have been bullying their classmates. And this has been going on since the beginning of the school year. And now, the police are getting involved.”

  “Overreacting, overreacting, overreacting.”

  “They’ve been expelled. There’s no overreacting about that.”

  Nicole went back to looking at her nails, holding them up to the light over the stove. “I’ll be taking care of that tomorrow. You know, I don’t think this color works for me.”

  “What is it that you will be taking care of tomorrow?”

  Nicole gave Rob a condescending look. “I’ll be paying Phillips Academy and Dean what-ever-his-name-is a visit.”

  “You have an appointment?”

  “I don’t need an appointment.”

  “What are you planning to do?”

  “Fix things.”

  “Fix things?” Rob was incredulous.

  “I believe some forceful push-back is called for.”

  “You’re going to barge in without an appointment, and then make a scene, in an effort to overrule the expulsion? Not that it matters, but were you planning to invite me to come along?”

  “No, I don’t want you there. You will, as always, be too understanding and too apologetic, and in the end, you’ll let them walk all over you. This is a time to stand up to those academia aristocrats. You will simply roll over.” Then, as an afterthought, added, “You know, you are remarkably naive.”

  Rob smiled wryly, and then momentarily looked away, trying to handle the stab of pain. “You are the second person to call me naive today. But let’s get back to your plans.”

  Nicole absently fluffed her hair. “My plans. That is correct. These are my plans, not your plans. I paid a lot of money to that school. They are not about to toss my daughters out for some, what is it, bullying?”

  “Whoa,” Rob said. “I hear a lot of personal pronouns being tossed around…words like my and I. Whatever happened to we and us?”

  “I’m going to bed.”

  “Wait. Just wait. One last point before you dismiss me. You do know bullying is not accepted at any school, public or private. Right?”

  Nicole slammed her hand down on the countertop. Her eyes flashed momentarily but quickly passed. "Let me ask you something. Did you ever get into a fight in the schoolyard when you were growing up?"

  “Of course I did.”

  “And how is that different than bullying?”

  “It’s not. But it wasn’t tolerated then, and it’s not tolerated now especially now that the ante has been upped with all the cyberspace shit. Even so, back then, I threw a punch in the schoolyard, I was sent to the principal’s office, and then I had to stay after school. If it had happened again, I was suspended. If it happened again, I would have been expelled. Schools today have no tolerance for that type of behavior.”

  “We’ll see about that.” Nicole turned to leave.

  Calmly now, Rob said, “So, in summary, let’s see; I’m not man enough to keep you happy, I let people walk all over me, and what was the third thing? Oh yeah, I’m remarkably naive. Anything else?”

  Nicole stopped and went back to staring at her nails. “There’s more, but that’s a good start.”

  Rob stood and stretched, again looking away, trying to compose himself. This had been tougher than anticipated. He was weary, but like the fighter coming up off the canvas, said, “You disgust me. And one more item; I know you really don't care, but so that you know; you represent the worst decision of my life."

  “And I suppose your precious Anna would have been the better choice?”

  Rob looked at the ceiling in thought, and then said, “Absolutely.”

  The word hung in the air. Nicole, seemingly bored, again studied her nails
.

  After a moment, Rob walked over to the sink, rinsed his beer glass and put it in the dishwasher. “I want to thank you for taking the time to have this little chat tonight.”

  Nicole looked at Rob and blinked a few times, trying to figure out what he’d just said. “And why is that?”

  With surprisingly little emotion, Rob said, “You have confirmed what I have long suspected. You have no class, no morals, and not an ounce of human kindness. You truly are your father’s daughter…and your daughter’s mother.”

  She studied Rob for a moment then hissed, “Weak.” Without another word, she went upstairs to bed.

  Rob sat alone, in silence, at the kitchen table for a long time. Then, he turned off the kitchen lights, went into the living room, removed his shoes, grabbed a throw pillow and a blanket, lay down on the couch, and tried to get some sleep.

  4

  Connect the Dots

  “Claire will see you now.”

  Rob, still numb from the events of the previous day, snapped back to the present. The corporate president’s personal secretary, Roxanne, was peering quizzically at him from behind her desk.

  “Rob?” She asked.

  He forced a smile and stood. “Thanks.”

  Claire Anderson – aka Dragon Lady, cleavage Claire, Big A, and many others – did not look up when Rob entered her spacious corner office, closing the door behind him. She was scribbling notes on a legal pad, glancing to and from a pile of documents spread out atop her enormous oak desk.

  She glanced at her wristwatch. “I’ve got a board meeting in fifteen minutes. What’s on your mind, Rob?”

  Awkwardly, he slid into a leather guest chair immediately in front of the president’s desk.

  He cleared his suddenly dry throat. “Thanks for agreeing to meet this morning…”

  “You missed the staff meeting yesterday.”

  Rob felt his pulse quicken. “I wasn’t feeling well.”

  Claire put down her pen, removed her glasses, leaving them to dangle on a gold chain, and fixed Rob with her steely blue eyes. Her auburn hair was stylishly short, her white blouse open at the neck, revealing a simple string of pearls. Her black pin-striped suit jacket hung on the back of her chair.