iTheft

Written by Nicholas LeVack, Published on 3/2/2009, Re-published on 7/28/2010

A small high school stood adjacent to a much larger hill, which effectively blocked out the sun so that shadows engulfed the building. The absence of activity on the outside of the building—as classes were in session—combined with the darkness made for a very dreary atmosphere. The feeling became even more prevalent as soon as one stepped inside Mrs. Adam’s English III classroom, Room 106.

In the room, Mrs. Adam sat struggling to keep her weary eyes on Jane Landau, whose grievance had been the center of the aging teacher’s reluctant attention for all of the first ten minutes of her planning period. Jane Landau, whose incessant complaints were enabled by the fact she had a free period, was practically jumping as she went through the details of what she described as a tragedy for the fourth time.

“It was near the end of second block when I asked to go to the bathroom,” started Jane again. “I didn’t think to bring my iPod—I never do. I didn’t think anyone, out of the thousands of times I’ve left at my desk, would take it this one time! Know what I mean?” Her teacher could only nod begrudgingly. “I don’t think anyone could have taken it by accident. It has my name on the back and a lot of stickers on it—no one could have mistaken it for his or her own.

“Since I left so late in class, by the time I got back the bell had already rung, so there was no one to ask about it when it turned up missing,” continued Jane.

“Well, do you remember who was sitting around you?” Mrs. Adam asked, almost mumbling.

“Let me think,” Jane responded, pursing her lips and scratching the top of her head. “That really shy, depressing girl Shay Dulaney was sitting right behind me.” After a moment’s pause, she began to list off other classmates. “That Shawn Ramos kid was sitting beside Shay. It wouldn’t surprise me if he stole it. He’s been caught for stealing a lot. Next time he steals he’s supposed to be expelled.”

“Oh, wouldn’t that be a shame,” said Mrs. Adam, who was only about half present in the conversation.

“Lea Thompson was sitting in front of Shawn, I think. I remember she was complaining about something to Rachel Vermeer, who was sitting in front of her. I don’t know what they were talking about, though. But when I looked back to ask Shay for a pencil, I noticed that she was watching them. Maybe you should ask her some questions—it could be important.”

“I’ll do that,” said Mrs. Adam, hardly aware of what she was agreeing to. “For now, I think you should work on homework in the library.”

“Sure thing,” Jane said, having sufficiently aired her complaints. “Though it would be nice if I could listen to music while I did it.”

With clumsy movements, Mrs. Adam called down to the office, and moments later Shay Dulaney was instructed to go to Room 106 by a voice over the intercom. She arrived, looking almost as tired as the teacher. She wore a baggy gray sweatshirt, which seemed to make more obvious the unusual paleness of her skin, afflicted with a series of pimples. “You wanted to see me?” she asked in a dull voice.

“Right, Shay,” began Mrs. Adam, whose voice seemed to challenge Shay’s in a battle of dullness. “Jane Landau’s iPod went missing during second block. She said you were sitting behind her and watched a discussion between Rachel Vermeer and Lea Thompson. Could you tell me what they were talking about?”

“Yeah, sure,” Shay said, clearly bored. “From what I heard, Rachel was angry about something her dad said. She seems kinda spoiled, you know? I never heard the end of the conversation, though. I turned on my own iPod and read for the last few minutes of class, after Jane left. I didn’t notice anything after that.”

“Fair enough,” said Mrs. Adam. “You may go.” As she digested this information, she called the office once more, this time to have them send up Shawn Ramos. After the third attempt at reaching the boy—which ran into the second half of Mrs. Adam’s planning period—he slouched into the classroom, glaring at his teacher.

“Shawn, nice to see you,” said Mrs. Adam, forcing a smile. He only shrugged. “I heard you were sitting close to Ms. Landau during second block. She had her iPod stolen near the end of class, and I just wanted to know if you have any details about that.”

“It wasn’t me,” he said darkly. “I can’t afford another slip-up—I’ll get expelled if I break the rules again.”

“Well, are there any details about anyone else sitting close to Jane you can share with me?” Mrs. Adams asked.

“I didn’t really notice much during the end of class. I was too distracted by Rachel Vermeer whining about something to Lea Thompson. It was annoying. Lea must have thought so too, because she looked relieved when she got called down to the office a few minutes before class ended.”

“I see,” said Mrs. Adams. Without any other questions to ask the boy, she dismissed him. Next she called for Lea Thompson, though fortune seemed to be on her side, for walking in to Room 106 alongside Ms. Thompson was Rachel Vermeer, with her purse held tightly against her side.

“Hello girls,” said Mrs. Adams. “I wanted to ask you both some questions about an iPod that was stolen near the end of second block.” Neither of them seemed daunted by this.

“I wasn’t here at the end of that class,” said the visibly annoyed Lea. “I was called down to the office to talk to my swim coach. I couldn’t have stolen the iPod.”

“Yeah, I couldn’t have taken Jane’s iPod, either. I was too busy working, since there was no one to talk to after Lea left,” added Rachel.

“I see,” said Mrs. Adam. “Both of you sit down,” she instructed, reaching for the phone.”

“What are you doing?” Rachel asked.

“Having the office call Jane Vermeer. It’s fortunate that she doesn’t have her iPod now—she’ll be able to better listen to my findings.”