Excuse Me.. Sir?

Jean’s Attire

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It had been a long day, and Jean sat in his office, alone for an hour. He had sent his secretary home for the evening already. He was behind on some paperwork and was taking the time now to fill it out. As usual there were many letters. Some came from alumni but most of them came from prospective students and their families. Going through the letters of plea they’d received from the rejects always made Jean solemn. It reminded him of the disaster that had befallen the Powell home, as well as Mr. Tesslow. It really was such a shame.

It was silent in the office, save for the scratching of Jean’s pen on paper and the tick of the clock. He wouldn’t have noticed someone entering his office had he not heard their footsteps echoing down the hall. He assumed it was either the secretary come back after forgetting something or a teacher come to speak some concern to him.

When the footsteps stopped, Jean did not look up from his paperwork. He anticipated the visitor to state their business. But when he heard what sounded like a tentative student’s voice, Jean furrowed his brow and looked up. If he didn’t have such a healthy body he might have had a heart attack right there! The sight of Willow, a convicted criminal, in his office was enough to put Jean on edge. His hand almost flew to the security button beside his phone – almost – before he noted Willow’s posture and position. What reason would the boy have to come back? Jean remembered many times a young Willow had come into his office, asking for assistance with a scene or a problem. Jean retracted his hand from his phone and blinked a few times. Had he fallen asleep at his desk?

”That is I, Mr. Montana.” He said it as a statement. He straightened in his chair and beckoned for the man to come in. He had certainly changed and the years had not been as kind to him as they had been to Jean. ”Might I ask why you thought it was a good idea to set foot in this Academy?”

Jean waited for some sort of response. All he got was Willow acting just as he had done when he was in trouble and had to come to a one on one discussion with the teacher. It was not a common occurrence. Jean could see Willow was nervous and despite the myriad of tattoos across his body, despite the limp in his step from the anklet, Jean only saw a child.

He remembered reading about the incident in the newspaper before the headmaster at the time had explained to all of the staff what had happened. Fiona Grey had been killed at the suspected culprit was her boyfriend, also a Metric student. From the mention of Fiona, Jean’s interest had been peeked – but when it was implied her boyfriend was the killer Jean just did not believe it. He had Willow in his courses. The boy was always kind, smart, and talented. Not to mention the times Jean had seen him with Fiona he was happy and very much in love. He certainly would be erased of this crime when more evidence came to light. But as it was Willow was put on suspension and Fiona was mourned by the campus.

As more evidence came about, though. Jean was sourly disappointed. The murder weapon and a gun were both found on his body at the scene. The excuse the defense used was memory loss but it was weak – the prosecution painted a picture of a jealous and angry boyfriend who had killed Fiona because they had had some sort of argument while intoxicated. Still, it was odd to read it in the morning paper when he was convicted of murder. Jean felt nothing but jaded when he read that news. It of course shook the school, therapy was offered, and parents were concerned. But eventually things went back to normal. It was an isolated incident, a domestic dispute that ended a poor girl’s life. Jean put it behind him and moved forward. He rarely thought of what had happened to a student who had once been a favorite, and tried to agree with the verdict in his head. This poor girl was dead – what business had he, sympathizing with her killer?

But here he was now, with the very man in his office, and he still did not believe he could have killed a girl.

Jean looked at Willow as he mentioned wanting to recover his dignity. Jean knew the policies of the school. While he didn’t want to slam the door to Willow’s future, Metric was not a possibility. They would never accept a student with his record – the parent complains would be astronomical.

”Metric is not an option. We do not accept students with extensive criminal records and you were banned from the grounds. How you got inside here, still, is a mystery to me.” Jean was uncharacteristically serious as he spoke. He looked at Willow. There was nothing malicious in his eyes. There was only a flicker of hope. Jean rolled his chair back and pulled out some papers. ”Were you looking to become a professional painter? As ridiculous as it is for the Headmaster of an arts Academy to say, sometimes the best painters do not need degrees in the art to succeed.”

It was still hard to wrap his mind around the fact that this child was a convicted murderer. He did not have the look. He was hardened now, covered in tattoos, but he did not look like a murderer. Jean adjusted the glasses on his nose and sighed. He felt as though Willow was on his last rope. Jean was not sure where this would take Willow and he was not sure if he was willing to live with himself if he did nothing. Mr. Tesslow would never admire that. He aspired to be like Mr. Tesslow and he knew had he been in this situation, he would have been helped. Once a student, always a student. When he was compared to the parole officer, Jean did not say anything and merely listened to what he said. He had never been in a position as bad as Willow's.

Jean cleared his throat.

”However,” He said. Waiting for Willow to stop exiting his office before he continued. ”Salem Community College is open to the community – which includes convicted felons. If you are interested in pursuing your education in the arts, and you get a GED, I can see about getting you classes over there. I do not take pleasure in seeing former students Struggle. I also,” here he paused, staring at Willow’s back, wondering if he really could have killed that poor girl. ”...do not like it when former students are taken before their time. Many others here agree with me. I would recommend forging a new identity if you do not want to be associated with Fiona’s death. An alias, if you will.”