The Constellations

The cabbie turned

THE caBBiE TurnEd and said,“Harper Elementary School.” “Pull over here.” Deb jogged up the front steps, one hand on the rail, the other under her belly, supporting the baby. A towheaded crossing guard held the door for her. No sooner had she spotted the front office than Maria Spinoza appeared in the door. She wore an unfashionable brown blouse with black slacks that failed to slim a pair of so-called child-bearing hips. Deb hated that term, but all the same she knew that in three months she would envy those hips. When Maria grinned, Deb saw the tiny wrinkle, a sort of second smile, that always appeared above her lip. Maria gestured at Deb’s stomach and bent over to embrace her. “We have pills to prevent this sort of thing,” Maria said. As they broke, Deb said,“Well, you marry a younger man . . .” “Come on back,” Maria said. “I cleared files off a chair in anticipation of your visit.” Maria led her to a small corner office. It reminded Deb of a private detective’s lair, the fan in the window and parallel lines of sunlight sketched by the blinds onto one wall. The generous dark woodwork and cream-colored walls complimented one another. The cherrywood desk was worthy of a crooked alderman. Out of necessity Maria had stacked ugly metal storage shelves with manila folders and office supplies. Maria motioned Deb to a chair and sat on the corner of the desk, one leg over the other.“It’s embarrassing when the children are neater than you are. Since we caught up on personal biz over the phone, and since you’re wearing a ball-breaker ensemble, can I assume you’re here to enroll your new arrival? I warn you, we usually advise parents to hold off until the kids are teething.” “It’s my sister’s son,” Deb began. 54 The Constellations “The one you mentioned on the phone?” Maria said. “Yes. What’s the deadline for enrolling a student for the fall term?” Maria hesitated and used the pause to study Deb with the interrogating eye she used to break underachievers and truants. Deb, however, knew to wait her out. They had become friends when Deb’s daughter attended Harper—Maria the just-promoted administrator, Deb the involved young parent to end all involved young parents.Whatever Maria’s ambitions—be they grants, new equipment, or a field trip to the symphony—Deb enlisted, from doing research to wrangling students. More than once they had formed an alliance to get Emma to study the subjects she dismissed with such 90th-percentile words as dismal and interminable . Em’s middle school grades testified to the effectiveness of such attention. That Maria managed it by channeling the stubbornness instead of breaking it awed Deb, though on occasion she had pled for the other method. “It’s this Friday,”Maria answered.“But just between us,it’s not firm.” “I won’t pretend Eric’s going to graduate med school in his teens,” Deb said,“but he’s bright and he’s motivated.” Deb went into her spiel.She played up Eric’s time at Akhmatova and played down his home life, and did not believe for a second that she managed to allay Maria’s usual list of questions on the latter. From there she bounced to the meeting with Miss Birch and added her own observations on his dedication. “No one knows where this astronomy obsession comes from,” Deb ended. “Kids go through phases,” Maria said. “Unless he’s in an environment that provides a chance for him to explore this interest, it’ll never be more than a phase,” Deb replied.“You agree there are children who pursue a life path they discover at a young age? I don’t mean Mozart. Just accomplished practitioners in the arts, science, even business.” “I’m sure Howard Hughes ran a successful lemonade stand,” Maria said.“The tuition hasn’t gone down, Deb.” “He would qualify for a hardship grant.” Kevin Cunningham 55 Maria sat forward, sounded even more sympathetic than she looked. “You know the politics and you know who decides. A lot of the kids we choose have only one parent. Or one grandparent . Or an older sibling who works three jobs. I’m not saying you couldn’t make a case for Eric, certainly not after the work you’ve...