“Agreed,” she said. “I do agree. Even with fewer than that number of people, it would seem to offer the most potential to bring in the dollars.”
“And it won't cover the cost of all of the computers,” I said. “But it would certainly buy some. At the very least, it would help get the ball rolling.”
“Yes,” she said. “And you think you can get people to sign up? To perform?”
I hesitated, then nodded. “Yes.”
“What about an emcee?”
“Uh, my husband already volunteered,” I said, making a note to tell him when I got home that he was going to be emceeing the talent show.
She studied me for a moment, then went back to tapping her fingers.
I waited again.
“How long do you believe it will take you to organize this?” she asked.
That was the million dollar question, the one that had kept me up during the night. I really wasn't sure. In a perfect world, I would've liked several months. But I knew we didn't have that kind of time, and I knew that she didn't want to wait that long.
“Three weeks,” I said, giving her the answer I'd settled on when the sun came up. “Longer would be better, but I know you'd like to do this as soon as possible. So I think three weeks is doable. I can start on sign-ups and publicity right away as soon as we choose a date.”
She peered at me over her fingers. I wasn't sure what she was thinking. She was hard to read and I considered myself decent at reading people.
“How would you feel about...two weeks?” she finally asked.
My eyes widened in surprise. And horror. “Two weeks?”
She nodded. “I think that three weeks opens the window up a little too long. People will already start forgetting about the theft and they'll be less inclined to help. I think two weeks is a better window.” She paused. “But only if you think you can accomplish it within that time.”
I swallowed hard. Two weeks wasn't enough time. Not if I wanted to sleep and eat and see my kids.
But I also felt like she was challenging me. It was almost as if she thought I wouldn't be able to do it and wanted me to say no. Then, when people asked why we weren't doing anything about the computers, she could say, “Well, we wanted to but Daisy Savage decided it was going to be too much work.”
That might've been an over-dramatization, but that's what went through my head.
Two weeks.
It wasn't enough time. I immediately formed a list of all the reasons why I wouldn't be able to pull the whole thing together. I needed to tell her no, that it needed to be three or we couldn't do it. There was no way any reasonable person would say it could be done in two weeks.
But I hesitated. “Yes,” I finally said, swallowing again. “We can do it in two weeks.”
So much for reason.
FOURTEEN
Charlotte Nordhoff smiled at me. “What else can I get you?”
After my conversation with Mrs. Bingledorf, we'd both agreed that I needed a more permanent place to set up shop than the conference room. She led me down the hall to the counseling office, where Charlotte was the only one in an office suited for two. They set me up at the empty desk and Bingledorf left, smiling, but not before she told me she'd arrange for the use of the auditorium on our agreed upon date.
Charlotte found several blank notebooks for me – there was no extra laptop for me to use – and showed me how to use the school's elaborate phone system. She set a jar full of pens and pencils on the desk next to the phone and looked around, trying to figure out what else she could give me.
“For now, I think this is probably all I need,” I told her. “I really hope this isn't an inconvenience for you, having me here.”
She waved a hand in the air and circled back to her desk. “Oh my gosh, no. This room usually feels cavernous with just me in it. It'll be nice to have company, even if it's only temporary.”
“Well, I appreciate you letting me barge in on you,” I said, sitting down in the upholstered chair behind my new desk. “I just hope I haven't gotten in over my head.”
“Most folks who work in a school are in over their heads,” she said, sitting back down. “But they don't tell you that during the interview.”
I laughed. “Might make hiring a little difficult.”
“Most likely,” she said, smiling in agreement. She looked at me over her computer monitor. “So. A talent show? That sounds like it could be fun.”
“If I can pull it off.”
“I don't think Evelyn would've brought you down here and set you up if she didn't think you could do it,” she said. “So you must've impressed her somehow.”
“Or she's just desperate enough to throw someone to the wolves in the hope that I can round up a little money for the computers,” I said.
Charlotte laughed. “I guess that's possible, but I doubt it. How much do you think you can raise?”
“I'm really not sure,” I admitted. “If we could get several hundred people in the building, I think that would be a success. I'd take it.”
“That would be a good start,” she said. A thick gold bracelet encircled her wrist and she twisted it absent
The pressure was beginning to feel like two fat elephants sitting on my shoulders.
“Have you heard anything?” I asked, glancing at the door. “Do they have any idea who might've taken them? Or how they got in?”
She hesitated, then shook her head, her earrings swinging back and forth. “No, I really haven't heard anything. I'm not even sure what kind of investigation is going on.” She paused. “I'd think it might get uncomfortable for a few folks, though.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, my curiosity sparked.
She stared at her computer screen, but her fingers weren't clicking on the keyboard. “Well, I just...I'd think the police would need to ask a lot of questions. And that might make some people a little uncomfortable.”
“You mean, just talking about the theft?” I asked. “Because the school was broken into?”
She pressed her lips together and glanced up, as if she was debating what she wanted to say. “That could be part of it, I guess. But some people might have a tough time answering some of the questions. It just might be...I'm not sure what the word is.”
“I'm not sure I understand,” I said. “Why would it be tough to answer questions? The police want to help, right?” I'd had my fair share of run-ins with – and questioning by – the Moose River police department and, although uncomfortable, they had seemed mostly competent while doing their job.
“Yes, of course,” she said, quickly. “And to do that, they'll have to be thorough. Which means talking to a lot people here at Prism. And that's where it might get sticky.”
“Sticky?”
She started to say something, then stood and walked around the desk. She closed the door to the office then walked back to her desk . She sat on the edge of it and faced me. She fiddled with her bracelet and took a deep breath, as if mustering the courage to speak.
“Okay,” she said. “Here's the deal. Totally off the record and between me and you. Okay?”
I tried not to look too confused. “Um, okay. Sure.”
“We have some weird rules around here,” she explained. “They don't always make perfect sense, but you can kind of understand where they're coming from. I might not always agree with them, but I can sometimes understand the reasoning. If that makes sense.”
I nodded, even though it sounded like she was talking in circles. “It does.”
She glanced at the door before speaking again. “So one of the rules is that the building is closed on the weekends. No admittance. They do this for a couple of reasons. One is that the alarm system has been spotty in the past and even when we were allowed in the building on weekends, the code sometimes didn't disarm the system and it would be a huge mess.”
While that would seem like something you'd want to get fixed, I understood the principle of the idea. Having your alarm system go off while a teacher was trying to grade papers or something on a Saturday was probably a bit of a problem. You didn't want police officers showing up, guns drawn, and all you were trying to do was correct an essay.
“So there aren't any events on weekends any more?” I asked. I knew last year there had been a couple of dances and a few sporting events, too. After all, I'd worked concessions and ticket sales at some of them.
“No, those still happen,” she said. “School sanctioned events still happen on the weekends. We have staff here who supervise and close up. It's the unofficial coming and going that we can't do.”
That made a little more sense.
Charlotte continued. “And, two, people started bringing their kids in with them, letting them run around, that kind of thing,” she said. “Some things got knocked out of place, I think a light bulb was broken, I can't recall exactly. But basically kids were running around doing things they shouldn't have been doing while their parents were trying to get some work done in their classrooms.”
I nodded. I could understand teachers not wanting to leave their kids at home, but you couldn't just set them loose and let them use the school as their own personal playground.