In Too Deep(54)

After the mayor, things warmed up. The other speakers, starting with Principal Bernardino, had all known Tawny. There was a conscious effort by the speakers to avoid tear-jerking commentary and instead focus on the good times. There were glowing recollections of her as both a teacher and a woman, with only one person mentioning the sad way in which she'd died. Her speech was short, but by the end of it there wasn't a dry eye in the entire stadium, and more than a few grown men openly sobbing.

The last speaker was Jeff, Tawny's husband. His eyes were red as well, and he had to blow his nose once before taking the microphone. "Thank you all," he said firstly, clearing his throat before continuing. "Tawny would have been touched to see that she was so well-respected by so many people."

There was some light applause, which I found a bit strange, but it let Jeff pause and gather his thoughts. "As much as Tawny would have appreciated all of this, I don't think she would like it," he said next, struggling to smile. "You see, Tawny believed, and I share in this belief, that we should be remembered for the good we've done. It's not bad to feel sad that she's gone, I know I've spent a lot of the past few days crying. In the next few days, this city is going to be doing a lot of that. But Tawny, she wasn't one to cry. She was one who believed in celebration."

I could feel a smile coming to my face, knowing what was coming next. Tawny had been proud of her Irish heritage, and had decorated her room every year for St. Patrick's Day with an almost excessive amount flair, turning it nearly a total emerald green. And of course, I noticed her favorite music as well. I wasn't the only one smiling, either.

"Tawny loved music," Jeff said. "Whenever I would ask, she said it helped her relax, and it helped her students too. Now, I don't know if it did or not, but I do know Tawny's proud of each and every one of you. But, back to music. Of course, as you all know, Tawny's taste in music sometimes got her in trouble with the school board. I guess compared to some of the music out there nowadays it's pretty tame, but still, I'll admit she played stuff in class that wasn't exactly rated PG. She loved it, though, and I think this would have been a song she'd have wanted to be played today. So, babe, this one's for you."

Jeff waved, and someone up in the press box turned on the CD player, a slight hum coming over the speakers. I'm sure there were a few people who were at first surprised at the Dropkick Murphys blaring over the sound system, especially when the lyrics of the refrain became clear. However, I wasn't the only one singing along by the end with the final line, "I don't really give a shit, I'm going out in style!"

It ended the memorial on a high note, and I saw a lot more smiles going out than when I'd come in. Even Melina, who was exhausted after working three and a half extra shifts in the past two days, was smiling and clapping.

As a member of the staff, I was lined up with the others at the gate while the stands cleared. The actual burial would be a private family affair in Boston, where Jeff and Tawny both had family, and I was sure would hold a proper Irish wake for her.

As the crowd filed by, quite a few stopped to ask how I was doing, and I could tell that the story of my actions was already circulating amongst the locals. It would only be a matter of time before someone talked to the press, which I didn't want to have happen. I kind of hoped that it would at least stay small scale enough that the unfortunate cycle of the news would move on to the next headline-grabbing crisis.

Dwayne, my student from the fourth period class who'd shown so much leadership during the shooting, was one of the last to stop by, accompanied by his parents. I knew his Dad was one of those men who just couldn't seem to stay on the right side of the law and had a rap sheet that ran into multiple volumes.

"Hey Swag," Dwayne greeted me, dressed in black jeans and a black t-shirt. I'd never seen Dwayne in anything other than t-shirts and wondered if the young man even owned a shirt with buttons. "Good service."

"I'm sure you would have liked the music to have a bit more bass to it," I said. Dwayne offered his hand and we shook. "You doing okay Dwayne?”

“Oh you know me, I’ll be fine.”

I nodded. “So does that mean I’m going to see you in class next week?"

Dwayne chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, you will. You'd be happy to know that I even did some homework the other day, and not just reading Iron Man either."

I nodded, noting the chagrined look that came over his father's face. Dad moved on, leaving Dwayne behind. Dwayne watched him go and leaned into me. "Hey Swag, can I ask you a favor?"

"Go ahead," I said.

Dwayne's eyes cut left and right, and he dropped his voice low. "Listen, this thing . . . it kind of woke me up. Would you mind if I stopped by sometimes to get some help? I was thinking, maybe I can be more than my old man."

I patted him on the shoulder. He was one of the local tough guys, and if the word got out that he was turning to the books, he'd have all sorts of problems with his so-called friends and acquaintances. "We'll talk Monday. Find me during lunch."

He grinned, then shook hands with Melina and took off on his way.

The sky rumbled, and we could feel the first few drops of rain start to fall. Instead of the tears I thought it would feel like, it somehow felt like it was washing away something, some of the pain and rage of the past few days.