You've Got Hate Mail

I decide to set some ground rules.

I do not return McDuff's call. I send an email instead.

I tell him I got his message. I'd like to hear what the plan to handle this situation may be, especially given his botched execution last time we had an issue. I tell him I'd prefer to do all of our corresponding in writing, on the record. I ask him to send me details of his plans to take care of this situation. Today please.

The building principal writes back about an hour later, verbally wringing her hands. Understanding of my feeling that I need to go to the police instead, but full of woe that anything like this has happened. Probably more filled with woe that it happened within weeks of her retirement and thus threw a speed bump into her smooth ride across the finish line. I can practically hear pounding her head on her desk.

It is not until nearly 10 pm when McDuff replies. He is nearly panicking that he let the close of business slip by and never saw my email. And I'd threatened to go to the police unless he could convince me that he's competently handling the matter, which as you know, would take some pretty flawless proof. He's probably home in his underwear having a daiquiri and just realized all hell could be breaking loose in his little imaginary fiefdom.

He tells me he completed his investigation as though it is some complicated, secretive ritualistic procedure. I am in Human Resources, let's not forget. I could have wrapped this thing up before lunch with one ear tuned to the the reruns of Glee.

He tells me that what they'd at first thought was just kids being kids had actually turned out to be something more sinister and troubling and he's elevated it to the building principal. (No shit, Edison, check your OTHER emails. I already got one from Mrs. Short-timer and you were copied.)

He said that Esther will be removed from Hil's Art class for now and will be subject to disciplinary measures, though I am not allowed to know what they do (Again, I know the Rules, moron, I am in HR-What you don't know is that Monday afternoon the whole school, including Hil, will know exactly what if any punishment has been meted out. And Hil will tell me at the dinner table before her napkin is unfolded on her lap. So go on and on. If you want about confidentiality. We all know the rules don't apply to 7th graders.)

He also says that he's notified Esther's parents and informed them that I may go to the police. I am sure that was said in a way that disparraged me. I couldn't care less. Esther's parents are the ones with the Big Problem on their hands. The police will just make that ever more abundantly obvious.

I forward the message to Lars. Hil is with him. I offer to talk to them both about it over the weekend to make sure Hil is comfortable with what is being done.

It is Sunday night before I talk to Hil. Lars hasn't talked to her about any of it.

Oh, good. Another idiot that needs to pretend that it didn't happen. Thank God we're not talking about Cancer.