Look Again

When the orchestra finishes and my singers move back into place for their second set, I lose sight of her. Since I can’t see her and do my job, I focus on the music.

For a second, I wonder if that’s some kind of thematic statement about my life.

I hate thematic statements about my life.

When time’s up and everyone starts clearing out, I can’t find Joey. I see her students removing art pieces from stands and walls and clips, I see a lot of adults walking out with their arms full, but I don’t see her. I look in the corners and the less conspicuous places, but it’s not like we set up in a labyrinth.

She’s gone.

Briley’s on a ladder removing the last fasteners, and I’m pushing a giant broom across the floor when Dierdre brings it up. “When did Miss Harker leave?” she asks, a studied air of coolness in her voice. She wants me to know she’s not bothered.

I hate that she asks.

No, I hate that I can’t answer. I want to know the same thing, but I’m the adult in the room, and I’m not going to let Joey’s leaving become a conversation topic.

“Looks like we’re all done,” I say, adding a clap of my hands to underscore the most awkward question-dodge in Chamberlain history. “Great job today, everyone. I hope you feel like it was awesome.”

I don’t actually herd them out of the old chapel with the push broom, but they go.

As soon as it won’t look like I’m running straight to Joey’s apartment, I run straight to Joey’s apartment.

She doesn’t answer my knock. I send a text. Again, no answer. I dial her number and stand with my ear close to her door, which is among the creepiest things I’ve done in a long time. I don’t hear anything, so I sit with my back to the door for a while. When my legs fall asleep, I decide this is probably too public a display of pathetic waiting.

Just one more text. ‘I’m here if you need me. Well, not literally here anymore—I’m going home now. But I can be here. Any time.’

I feel my phone buzz a minute later.

‘Wait?’

I stop. I wait.

‘Can you come back? Door’s unlocked.’