Free The Lesson by Suzanne Woods Fisher Page A

you can’t see a day ahead.”
    That was not a new observation.
    “You’re spending most of your time thinking about solving that sheep farmer’s death. You think about it more than the police do.”
    That was somewhat of an exaggeration, but the sheep farmer murder was taking up a great deal of M.K.’s thoughts. Somebody had to solve the crime before Stoney Ridge was riddled with murders! “I’m teaching the same way Alice Smucker did. Everything’s the same. Every single thing.”
    Fern looked at her as if she might be addlebrained. “You spent eight long years complaining about the time in TwinCreeks School. Seems like a smart girl like you should be able to figure out what’s wrong with that logic.”
    It seemed that way to M.K. too, but she couldn’t quite figure out what Fern was getting at. She scrunched up her face as if she was thinking hard, and she was. “How do I know how to teach any different? Alice Smucker was the only teacher I’ve ever had.”
    “No, she wasn’t.”
    Fern thought she knew everything, but she didn’t. “Oh yes she was!” Then M.K. clapped her hands over her mouth. “Oh, no! She wasn’t.” M.K. had completely forgotten about Gideon Smucker’s brief tenure. He had filled in for his sister, Alice, after there was an unfortunate collision with a runaway sled (a sled that happened to be carrying M.K., but that was beside the point). “But it was easier for Gid. He was a man. The big boys obeyed him. It’s always easier for men.”
    “Why do you think the children obeyed Gid?”
    “Probably because Eugene Miller hadn’t moved to Stoney Ridge yet.”
    Fern rolled her eyes.
    “Eugene is a bandersnatch, Fern. The very worst of the bandersnatches! He makes Jimmy Fisher seem like any teacher’s dream. Eugene makes vulgar noises whenever I turn my back. Yesterday, he put a book up on the doorjamb so that when I walked in, the book fell on my head. And there he was at his desk, with a sweet-as-pie smile pasted on his face. He’s just a school yard bully—always making outlandish suggestions and daring his friends to join him. Eugene Miller pushes a person to the limit of politeness. The very limit.”
    This very morning, she had slipped outside to fill her thermos with water from the pump. When she returned to the classroom, she found that Eugene had drawn a caricatureof her on the chalkboard. Never mind that it was actually a rather amusing likeness—he had made a fool of M.K.
    “Did the children obey Alice?”
    M.K. sighed. “I suppose. She made everything a mind-numbing routine, so the boys used school to catch up on their sleep.” Boring. School had been incredibly boring. But M.K. was starting to feel a mild twinge of guilt as she complained about Alice’s teaching. It was a new feeling for her. At least the boys didn’t disappear during lunch under Alice’s tutelage. “Teaching isn’t that easy, Fern.” She gave herself an A+ for trying.
    “No, I’m sure it isn’t, if someone were actually trying to teach.”
    M.K. was insulted. She was trying! Sort of. Now and then.
    “Wann epper mol nix meh drumgebt, is es schlimm.” When you don’t care, you are in a sorry state.
    M.K. tried not to flinch. Fern’s sayings were worse than a beesting, and she knew all about beestings.
    “How long do you plan on wallowing in self-pity?”
    “Fine.” She let out a sigh. “I’m done wallowing. No more wallowing. Really.”
    “Good.”
    M.K. waited, sensing from Fern’s change in tone something was coming. “Where are we going?”
    “To visit Erma Yutzy.”
    M.K.’s heart sank a notch lower. Any more bad news today and it would be in her stomach. “I don’t like talking to old people. They make me uncomfortable.”
    Fern released a long-suffering sigh. “What a thing to say.”
    “I’m sorry, but the way they look at me with their watery eyes makes me uneasy. And their skin is like wrinkled crepe paper. Old people can be odd too. Some as odd as a cat with