Bad Teacher: The Backstory

[cardenio1611]

Calley had walked a mile and a quarter and was pooped. She forced herself to go another quarter mile or so because she could see a county sign that she could lean against. She clung to it like a drunkard hugs his lampost, looked up, and read the signage above her: CANNONVILLE 6 MILES>>TUCSON 42 MILES.

"Bummer," she hissed. It was Arizona heat, which meant 100 degrees and no humidity. After Chad had thrown her out of the car, she had lathered herself with sunscreen on all the bare spots of her, which were many. Sweat was bouncing off her ample breasts and pouring under her armpits and down her sides and then back cross her bare midriff. Her legs were soaked too, and she had quickly discovered that sandals weren't meant for walking. The crease created by the canvas bag she had slung over her bare right shoulder was smarting with the salty sweat. Then she heard a rumbling rising from the asphalt and turned to see a silver Chevy Corsica speeding toward her. She waved wildly, hoping in the depths of her blackened heart that the driver wasn't all hands.

The Chevy stopped next to her, and a young woman leaned forward. "Need a ride?" Calley jumped in, and as they sped off she sized up her benefactor. Primp and proper. Eye glasses and sticky bun. Brown jacket, white blouse, and brown skirt that covered her knees even when seated. "Where you headed?" the driver asked.

"Tucson."

"Well, I can bring you to Cannonville. That's where I'm heading."

Calley sighed. "Okay."

"My name's Helen Harryman Hartford. What's yours?"'

"Callista--eh, Monroe. Yes, Callista Monroe, like the president. What kind of name is Cannonville for a town?"

"Actually, the original name was Peligro de Canon. As far as I can figure out, there used to be a cannon factory there during the Mexican wars. They make hubcaps there now. But it's a big enough town to have a regional high school. That's where I'm going to teach."

Calley perked up a bit. "Going to? You mean you haven't been there yet?"

"Nope. But, modesty aside, they were so impressed by my qualifications, they offered me the job on the phone and followed by a contract, sight unseen."

"Sight unseen! Well, well, well." Calley looked Helen over again. Same height, so the clothes would fit. Shoe size was maybe seven or eight. Calley's was seven, so that even if Helen's were an eight, Calley could pad them out.

"I bet you teach history. I mean, knowing about Cannonville and the Mexican wars and all."

Helen's face lit up. "Why yes, I do. As well as geography and ethics."

"Do you have a place to stay in Cannonville?"

"Yes. I'm going straight to the school and they'll tell me where it is."

"I see." Calley spoted an area to the right with an Arizona Madrone tree that provided cover for a tombstone. Both had presumably be placed there years before by a widower, himself long deceased. Calley began to shift her bottom in her seat. "I hate to ask you to do this, but could you pull over there. I have to go, and I'll do it behind the tree. Sorry."

"No probem," Helen said, pulling over. Calley ran behind the tree and began searching. She finally found a large rock. She hid it behind her back as she got back into the car.

"That was quick," Helen said.

"I'll show you quick," Calley responded, reaching behind Helen and crashing the rock against the back of her head. Helen's head fell back wth her mouth open. "Sorry again," Calley said as she kissed Helen's forehead, "you're being so kind and all." Calley hauled Helen over to the passenger's seat, walked around, and drove the car behind the Madrone. She pulled Helen out and laid her on the ground.
Calley slipped off her top, shorts, and sandals. Naked, she knelt down, pulled off Helen's jacket and unbuttoned her blouse. She felt through Helen's bra with both hands. "Hey, you're no stranger in this department either. I think everything's going to fit fine."
She stripped Helen naked and put on her clothes. She remembered the glasses, took them off Helen's nose, and put them on. "Just as I thought. Plain glass to look scholarly. I'll be able to pull off the teacher thing easy."

Helen began to moan. "Ah!" Calley went to the car and came back with her canvas bag. She pulled out a pint of rye and an unmarked bottle of pills. She yanked Helen up with her mouth still open, popped four pills down her throat, and washed it down with half of the whiskey. The woman came to. "What happened? Where are my--." But immediately the pills and whiskey overwhelmed her. Her eyes clouded, and her head fell back. Calley pulled her tank top over Helen's head and her shorts up Helen's legs. Dragging her around the tree, Calley propped Helen against the trunk facing the road, her bare feet against the tombstone. From her canvas bag, Calley took a stack of $100 bills. "They got a good description of me, so they'll probably take you in for the bank robbery. You should be out for--oh, a couple of days at least, enough time for me to pretend to be you and then make my way to Mexico. They won't believe your story at first. But you'll probably get out of it." Calley patted Helen's head, walked by the car, and got back on the road.

As the sun set behind the Madrone, a state police car pulled up and shone its lights on Helen. "Well, lookee here," a voice said. A female officer was brought in to take Helen to booking and for medical examination.

Seven miles away, Calley was finding out that Cannonville wasn't a welcoming town after all and was originally aptly named because "peligro" means "danger."