108- Shunned Again

If it weren’t for Caroline’s conspicuous absences, day after day, I may have been able to forget that Ms. Viamonte exists. The embarrassing episode of shunning from last Monday’s Faculty Meeting had almost vanished from my mind. Like an unwanted blemish on my memory, my brain has been willing to put that scandalous First Grade Teacher on the back burner. I did feel a quick twinge of sympathy when I saw the girl crying in Mr. Thorpe’s office, but those feelings passed as I thought of the old saying: You made your bed, now lie in it. Viamonte had brought all of these problems upon herself and it was now up to her to face the consequences.
During my short break today, I went to the cafeteria for a cup of hot tea. There I noticed that Ms. Viamonte was seated at a lunch table with all of her students. This is unusual, because teachers at our school never eat with their kids; they view lunch as an opportunity to enjoy a few kid-free minutes. There is a special table reserved for teachers. I glanced over to the teacher’s table and saw that all of Ms. Viamonte’s colleague’s were seated there happily; they ate and laughed and utterly ignored Ms. Viamonte.
Out of respect for Caroline, I have avoided the Teacher’s Lounge and all of its loitering gossip mongrels. I do not want to become involved in what has been coined the OVP, short for the Outing Viamonte Plan. The OVP has been organized by a group of teachers who feel loyalty towards Caroline; their goal is to make Ms. Viamonte so miserable, she will decide to quit and then Caroline will be free to return to her job. I admire the sentiment, but prefer to keep my work life void of drama.
Today, glancing from Ms. Viamonte to the teacher’s table, I couldn’t help myself. I casually strolled over the table of teachers.
“Hey y’all,” I smiled and tried to speak their language. “Has anybody heard from Caroline?”
The teachers stopped their chit chat and focused on my question, they were delighted by the opportunity to indulge in this particularly taboo topic of conversation.
Mrs. Reeve flicked a piece of lint off the shoulder of her winter themed sweater, “Well, we don’t want to disturb poor Caroline. She must need her space—“
“—But if you happen to hear from her,” Mrs. Frankenstein pounded her large fists on the table, “Tell Caroline that we’re looking out for her!” The large woman gestured towards Ms. Viamonte, “We’re takin’ care of business, if you know what I mean.”
The entire table erupted into diabolical laughter.
“What has been going on with…?” I averted my eyes towards Ms. Viamonte’s table. “How is everything going with that?” I felt a twinge of shame for instigating the gossip, but I was curious!
“We’re makin’ sure that that tramp quits her job,” Mrs. Frankenstein grumbled. “We’re a family here at Everyday Elementary, and people like Viamonte don’t belong. We just want to make sure that that girl feels very…”
“…Unwelcome,” Mrs. Reeve finished the woman’s sentence as she daintily dabbed crumbs from the corners of her mouth.
“Exactly.” Mrs. Frankenstein nodded in agreement.
“We won’t let Viamonte eat lunch with us anymore.” A third teacher chimed in.
“I can see that.” I nodded and looked over my shoulder at the shunned girl. She had smartly seated herself so that her back was towards the teacher’s table.
Mrs. Frankenstein gladly filled me in on how they managed to force Ms. Viamonte away from the teacher’s table. “When we first heard the awful news, Viamonte still tried to sit with us. We would all sit down to lunch and when Viamonte came to sit with us, we would all move away. For the first few days, all of us, “Mrs. Frankenstein gestured around the table, “We all had to go and sit with our kids. That wasn’t any fun.”
“No fun.” The other teachers agreed.
“But that Viamonte isn’t too dumb, she figured out what we were up to real quick. One day, she just came into the cafeteria and sat straight down with her students. It was as easy as training a dog!” Mrs. Frankenstein exclaimed proudly.
Mrs. Reeve pointed her nose towards the ceiling, “I just don’t want to be associated with people like her.”
Training a dog? People like her?
“Well,” I admitted, “You guys are doing a great job at making her feel uncomfortable.”
“Thanks!” Each teacher smiled with their own smug satisfaction.