Page 57 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
The board president thanks Mrs. Carson, then turns the time over to me. “Perhaps, Mr. Hawthorne, you could give us a rundown of what happened from your perspective?”
I stand and nod, then move to the podium Mrs. Carson just vacated. I clear my throat. “Thank you for the opportunity to be here. If I could, before getting into the events of the afternoon in question, I’d like to provide a brief summary of the safety measures in place within Green River Academy’s whitewater kayaking program, as well as my qualifications as an instructor. I believe it’s important context.”
The board president nods. “Very well.”
I grip the edges of the podium and launch into a recitation of everything that qualifies me to be on the water as an instructor. CPR certification. Level five senior instructor certification from the ACA. Certification in swift water rescue. Ten years’ experience as a kayaker and five years’ experience as an instructor. “It’s also worth noting,” I add, “that per industry recommendations, we maintain a three-to-one instructor-to-student ratio at all times. I take the kids out in groups of six, with one additional instructor present.”
A woman sitting near the end of the table at the head of the room raises her hand. Her nameplate reads Nancy Shelbourne. “I’m sorry, there aretwoinstructors? Does that mean the district is paying for an additional instructor to make this program functional?”
“The other instructor is a volunteer,” I say. “He is fully credentialed and certified, but he’s just a volunteer.”
She scoffs. “Seems like a big commitment for someone unassociated with the school. Could it be he isn’t as invested as he should be? Maybe he doesn’t always pay full attention?”
I clench my jaw. The only way out of this is to admit something I haven’t even admitted to Principal Talbot. It’s above board. On paper, anyway. I double and triple-checked to make sure. But he still isn’t going to like it. “The volunteer who works with me is Griffin Hughes. He’s the owner of Triple Mountain Paddling School, where I am employed during the summer months as a kayak instructor. During the two eight-week seasons when the academy program is active, I volunteer to cover one of Griffin’s weekend classes at Triple Mountain so he has the time to volunteer for me.”
Nancy Shelbourne purses her lips and huffs, but the board president holds up a hand, stopping her. “Let me get this straight,” the president says. “You teach for free at a business here in Silver Creek just so you can have an additional instructor present within your school kayaking program?”
“That’s correct.”
“Can I ask why? Is it required by law that your teacher-to-student ratio remain three to one?”
“Not required, but it ismyrule. And Triple Mountain’s rule. In my experience, in order to keep everyone safe, one instructor shouldn’t be in charge of more than three kayakers at a time.”
“And you never approached the school about paying Mr. Hughes for his time?”
“With all due respect, ma’am, I’m not aware of any public education programs that are rolling around in extra funding. It already took a herculean effort to acquire the gear required to get the program launched through donations and other education grants. This seemed like a small thing I could manage on my own.”
She nods. “The point is, you sacrificed your personal time and energyjustto keep the kidsmoresafe?”
I almost downplay her claim, minimize what I’m doing, because, in my mind, it isn’t really a big deal. But that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t look like a big deal to everyone else. It can only help. “Yes,” I say simply. Might as well own it.
She smiles. “That’s what I thought.”
I spend the next ten minutes walking everyone through what happened the afternoon Dillon Carsonclaimshe almost drowned. “There is inherent risk in any sport,” I say, my heart rate finally slowing down. “A football player understands when he puts on his pads and hits the field that he might get injured. But he also knows he’ll have a better shot if he listens to his coach instead of running at the biggest guy on the opposing team just because he thinks he can take him on his own. My kayakers understand that when they’re in the water, they might get hurt. And they’re more likely to get hurt if they get cocky or behave stupidly. But if they listen, if they pay attention, I will do everything in my power to keep them safe.”
At this point, I’m a little sad I’mnotin a John Grisham novel. I’m ready to throw in aLadies and Gentleman of the juryin my best Matthew McConaughey voice, slam my fist against the podium and declare my innocence.Innocent, your honor! I am innocent!
But nothing’s being declared tonight. They won’t hold a vote until later in the summer after they’ve had time to fully “deliberate and evaluate” the particulars of the situation. After Nancy Shelbourne launches half a dozen questions at me, everything from where I earned my teaching degree to whether I see myself as a lifetime citizen of Silver Creek—I still have no idea what that question is about—the meeting ends and that is that.
John Talbot gave me two thumbs up from across the room before offering a quick salute and disappearing out the door. He’s got kids at home, and the meeting ran long, so I don’t fault him for taking off. We’ll be in touch about everything soon enough.
My family surrounds me next, offering me hugs all around before Mom pulls me off to the side. “You did good, Brody,” she says gently.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“I’m surprised that Nancy Shelbourne nutso didn’t ask for your ACT scores, though I kind of wish she would have.” She grins. “That would have shown her, wouldn’t it?”
I glance over Mom’s shoulder to where Kate is standing at the back of the room, waiting for me.
Mom follows my gaze. “Oh, I see how it is.”
I shake my head. “Sorry, I—”
“Oh, hush, child. I know I can’t compete. But Ido wonder...” Her words trail off, and she tilts her head toward Kate. “How are things? How areyou?”
She’s asking me a thousand questions with those three words. I try and infuse as much confidence as I can into my response. She’ll worry about me anyway, but I still give it my best shot. “We’re friends, Mom.”
She narrows her gaze. “I feel like there’s something you aren’t telling me.”
