“Please check your email later for this announcement,” the email concluded, and I sigh as I read it; I was hoping to know right away. Well, there’s nothing I can do about that.
The rest of the day is spent grading more assignments and answering a phone call from a parent regarding additional help or resources for a student who is having a hard time with the online work. I make notes of ways that I can help them.
Around two in the afternoon, I finally receive the email from the principal.
It reads: “Dear teachers and staff, we are sorry to inform you that, due to the rising fears and risks of the current pandemic, schools will be closed for the remainder of the year.” I’m so sad to read this. I think about my students, and about Stacey.
I quickly reach for my phone and text her about this. She responds quickly. “This is sad news. What are we going to do? The kids are going to be so sad.” I can feel her sadness and worry in that message.
“Don’t worry. Things will be fine. Just keep resting, and I’ll keep handling the work.”
She texts back: “Okay.”
I hope my words did the trick and calmed her. I focus on grading papers once more.
The days fall into a similar routine. I implemented a new strategy of sharing helpful links or videos with the students who need a more detailed explanation of each assignment; this seems to help them out a great deal.
I’m starting to feel a little sadder these days. I miss going to the school. I miss my students. I miss Stacey most of all. I think about her every day. I always text her and check in on her, but it’s not the same.
A few days later, I’m watching TV, waiting to grade the next batch of assignments, when I get a text message from an unknown number.
It reads: “Go to the park. Follow social distancing protocols.”
That’s weird. I think it must be a joke or something, so I ignore it. A few minutes later, I get the same text again.
Could it be from Stacey? No, I have her number saved already. Curiosity gets the better of me after a few moments, and I get dressed and walk down the street to the park.
I wait by the entrance, looking out at the street as I do. I text the number back. “I am here.”
I get a quick response of “Turn around.”
I’m a little cautious, but I follow the instructions. I’m not prepared for what I see. All spread out in the park are my students. They start clapping and cheering when they see me. Some are holding balloons; some have signs that say, “Goodbye, Mr. Winston, and we’ll miss you.”
I try to hold back my tears. I wave to them and call out, “Thank you. I’ll miss you too.”
One of the students shouts, “Don’t thank us! Thank Ms. Stacey. She planned this.”
I’m overwhelmed by that. After a few more moments of being with my students, we all leave the park and head back home.
I quickly text Stacey. “Do you have Facetime?”
She replies a little while later with, “Yes.”
“Log on. I need to call you.”
A few minutes later, I’m back in my apartment. I fix my hair and clothes before I call her on Facetime.
She answers a few seconds later. “Hi!” Her voice sounds a little hoarse and weak. Her face looks very pale and tired. “Did you like your surprise?” she asks, smiling weakly.
“Yes. That was very sweet of you. Thank you so much for that. I don’t know how you managed to pull it off,” I say.
She shrugs. “Actually, it was pretty easy to do.” She pauses to cough into a tissue. My heart aches for her.
“How are you doing?” I ask her with concern.
After she finishes coughing, she answers, “I’m doing good. A lot better than before.”
I can tell that she is putting up a front because we are talking. I can see how weak she is as she struggles to throw something away.
“I want to come and take care of you,” I say.
She looks at me in surprise. “Are you sure about that? I’m sick,” she says, uncertain.
“I’m sure. I can’t leave you all alone like that. I need to take care of you. Besides, you are more than worth the risk,” I say.
She gives me a tired smile. “Ok,” she says.
I smile back at her. “I’ll be over soon,” I say.
We end the call. I grab a bag and pack my laptop and other work-related stuff. I grab extra things I might need and throw them in the bag as well. I pause to make sure I have my wallet and keys. I tidy up the place a bit before I leave. I lock up behind me and then put my bag in the car.