Changing the Rules (Richter Book 1)(45)
“How can you say that about Macbeth? There’s high drama . . .”
“And endless death. It’s predictable. After you get through the singsong way he phrases everything, as if iambic pentameter makes it better. It doesn’t, it puts you to sleep like a children’s lullaby.”
Claire kept talking, purposely giving Mrs. Wallace things to chew on so when Cooper arrived she’d be just flustered enough to need a few minutes to digest everything Claire was saying. From Claire’s experience with teachers, nothing excited them more than when a student has a light bulb moment of clarity.
“Yes, but—”
“You know what reading Macbeth did for me?” Claire didn’t let her answer. “It made me look up good old Bill’s daily life. Who were his people? Cuz there had to be some serious story in there. Sure enough, he had siblings die, as in several. Kinda the norm back then, but then he had his own kid bite it because of the plague.”
By now Mrs. Wallace was sitting back and listening.
“And why didn’t he write a play about marrying a cougar at eighteen after knocking her up? Now that play I might try and suffer through, even if it’s written like a musical without actual songs.”
“Well—”
“And a hypocrite to his deathbed. Or at least his tombstone. ‘Good friend for Jesus sake forbeare, To digg the dust encloased heare: Bleste be ye man y’t spares thes stones, And curst be he y’t moves my bones.’” Claire took a breath. “In one breath he says he’s a godly man and the next he’s cursing you if you loot his grave. Those two things are a contradiction, don’t you think?”
Where the hell is Cooper?
“Certainly—”
“And his poor wife . . . he dies and leaves his wife a bed? And he dies a month after signing his will. I have to tell ya, I wouldn’t put it past Anne to reenact Macbeth and kill him herself once she realized she’d get nothing when he bit it. Was he faithful? I bet—”
There was a knock on the door.
Claire finally took a breath. About time!
Cooper walked into the room, his eyes collided with Claire’s.
“You are here,” he said as if surprised.
Claire brought her attitude back. “I told you Mrs. Wallace was giving me extra help.”
“You’ll have to forgive my lack of trust, you haven’t exactly been completely honest lately.”
With her arms crossed over her chest, Claire turned to Mrs. Wallace. “I’ve been here the whole time, right?”
Mrs. Wallace smiled. “She has been. It’s Mr. Mitchel, right?”
Cooper turned a full-wattage smile toward Mrs. Wallace, and damned if her face didn’t perk up.
“That’s right.”
“It does appear as if Claire is attempting to get on track with her studies.”
Cooper nodded a couple of times. “Can I have just a moment?” He opened the door.
Claire’s hand slid into her pocket and fiddled with lock picks.
“Certainly.”
Claire huffed as if annoyed, and waited until Cooper closed the door before bolting from her seat.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“Thank you,” Cooper said as he kept walking to draw Mrs. Wallace farther away from the classroom. Once they reached the double doors leading into the hall, he stopped and glanced at his watch. “You have no idea how glad I am to see Claire in your room, Mrs. Wallace.”
“It’s Louise.”
He put a hand to his chest. “Call me Cooper. I feel like I haven’t met a third of the staff.”
“If you’re here long enough, you’ll learn the names.”
“I’m sure. Anyway, I need to know how bad Claire is doing in your class.”
Louise lifted her eyebrows and shook her head. “If you’d come to me last week, I’d tell you she’s failing.”
He shook his head as if disappointed.
“But after everything she just told me, I honestly couldn’t possibly fail her. Education is meant to teach a subject, yes . . . but it’s also meant to open the eyes of the student. Make that student look for their own answers to life’s big questions. And that is exactly what Shakespeare is doing for her.” The woman looked like a proud parent.
“You mean Claire likes the class?”
“Quite the opposite, I think she hates it. Hates it enough to study the man and not his work. But you cannot do one without the other and truly understand.”
Wow, this lady really loved Shakespeare. “So Claire is doing the work?”
Louise shook her head. “Not really.”
Cooper glanced at his watch.
Louise started to chuckle. “She turned in a book report on Macbeth. You’ll never believe what she wrote.”
Actually . . . “Do I really want to know?”
She leaned a little closer. “Everybody dies. The End.”
Cooper closed his eyes, tried not to laugh.
When Louise’s giggles grew, Cooper joined her. “What a little shit,” he said.
“I know. She’s not wrong.”
“Maybe not, but still . . .”
“I think I can get her back on track so she can keep running for the team,” Louise said.