My neighbors, the Losoya's went into a spin recently.
I listened through the thin walls of my apartment, hearing groans of desperation and the click-clack of buttons of a calculator going off with the consistency of a series of raindrops hitting a tin roof.
He said softly, "I'm sorry dear. Looks like you're missing $1900."
"I'm gonna lose my fuckin' job! We'll be broke again Xavier! And I liked my job."
He muffled her cries of panic with his body, calming her and walking her to bed after telling her "God lets these things happen for a reason. Don't panic yet."
I listened through the thin walls of my apartment, hearing groans of desperation and the click-clack of buttons of a calculator going off with the consistency of a series of raindrops hitting a tin roof.
He said softly, "I'm sorry dear. Looks like you're missing $1900."
"I'm gonna lose my fuckin' job! We'll be broke again Xavier! And I liked my job."
He muffled her cries of panic with his body, calming her and walking her to bed after telling her "God lets these things happen for a reason. Don't panic yet."
I heard Xavier saying, "Look. Tomorrow see the principal & be honest. Don't worry and if you can offer to pay back the money from your summer school salary."
Mrs. Losoya cried, tears escaping her from behind sheetrock, "I'm gonna work damned hard for that money JUST to give it away. And the rumors - shit, I'll never escape them. I'll be a pariah! I'll be 'that teacher', and the bullshit will never end!"
"Look, we counted the money three times. You're either missing a reciept or you had the money stolen by the kids in your class."
They began arguing, Mr. Losoya trying to play Holmes while his wife cried; I could hear her continuing the unbelieving sobs late into the night. At one point Xavier said, "Do you want to ask Julian for the money? He's always got a scam going."
She refused, talking about facing the music, losing the club she loved so very much, and worrying about leaving her district & looking for a new job out of town. That seems to be the crux of teaching and scandals: when it happens you go out of town for your next job unless you made the news. THEN you go out of state.
Knowing I had no reserves this summer, and am actually looking at a job in telemarketting, I did the only thing I could as she wept deep into the night, her husband always trying and failing to comfort her: I lit a candle to St. Jude, Patron Saint of Lost Causes.
Is it my place to help others? I give money away on the street, to kids I've worked with, and to people around me all the time. Sadly, I never keep much for myself & am just shy of cyber-begging for cash to keep me alive. Some days, however, I wish I could fix the world, all their failings, all the chaos.
Maybe that's not right - maybe it's too ambitious or a reality that one day I shall die & account for my sins. Maybe I'm just too worried about the future.
Adios,
Jules
p.s. "Mrs. Losoya caught me the next day. Apparently the school scretary found another receipt for $3200 - her deficit AND a nice profit. Looks like things worked out for them."
