gritted teeth, then turned to Ruth. "Taylor probably already told you this, but just to get it back in the open so you know we're all informed, little Michael decided to share Uncle Taylor's preaching about how God punished people for behaving badly by giving them the Plague. Khalil didn't agree with him."
"So, how did you handle that?" Ruth asked Charlinder.
"How he handles the kids in the schoolroom is none of your business," said Miriam.
"No, really, it's okay," Charlinder cut in. "The class got a little off the subject after a history lesson, and I just wanted to move on so we could have math time. The kids didn't drop the subject when I asked, and they ended up fighting, so I broke them up and made everyone sit down in their math groups. And then it was over."
"Why couldn't you just let them discuss what they wanted?" asked Ruth.
"Because if I let a few six-year-olds decide the topic of discussion every time one of them had a whim, we'd never get anything accomplished,” he answered.
"So, you don't want them discussing the Plague?"
"The Plague is a history lesson for another time, which I do teach, just not today."
"So, what, you don't want them discussing the disease that set the human race back by thousands of years, except on your terms?"
"I'd have no right to call myself a teacher if I let the kids use school time to have any conversation at any time they wished," he pointed out. "Then I'd just be a babysitter, and while many parents figure it’s the same thing, I'm still interested in educating. And if you ever try teaching kids that young, you'll see you can't just let them run the place. So, yes, I do want them discussing the Plague on my terms only, or they can take it outside of school."
"Which I see your friend Taylor has already done, in any case," said Miriam.
"And does that bother you?" asked Ruth.
"If Taylor wants to give his big sister and brother a break from dealing with a six-year-old boy for just long enough to tell him that God loved His creations so much He tried to kill them all," Miriam explained, "then I'm frankly disturbed, but then I can't be everyone's mother when their mothers are alive. What bothers me is when people want to use the Plague as an excuse to pick fights with people who aren't interested ," she continued. "Like you're doing now, for example."
"Picking a fight?" Ruth said disbelievingly. "Is that what I'm doing?"
"Well, you are the one who brought it up," said Phoebe.
Yolande tucked the wool cards under one arm and took Stuart in the other. "Come on, Stu-baby, time to go home," she said while making haste from the Square.
"What you call 'picking a fight' is the least that I and anyone else who cares around here has to do to get anyone to talk," said Ruth. "What are you all afraid of, anyway?"
"We're not 'afraid of' anything except giving you lot the idea that there is anything to talk about involving your God. Just who are you to decide what anyone should be talking about around here, anyway?" demanded Miriam.
"Maybe we do it out of concern for your souls," Ruth offered, still just as composed as ever above her array of slender knitting needles and two-ply yarn. "Maybe we want you to start talking about what led to the Plague because we don't want you to suffer eternal damnation in Hell for your actions."
Charlinder wanted to run home and bury himself under a pile of Eileen Woodlawn's writings, but one look at Phoebe's face showed him what he felt: they just couldn't look away.
Miriam began laughing again. "And who's going to tell us what kind of behavior is going to send us to Hell? You?" she scoffed. "That is, assuming your promises of Heaven and Hell are places that really exist, which I'm far from convinced they are, but you know how I really feel about what caused the Plague, and what your God may have had to do with it?"
"No, Miriam, tell me how you really feel," Ruth said flatly.
"I just don't
"So, how did you handle that?" Ruth asked Charlinder.
"How he handles the kids in the schoolroom is none of your business," said Miriam.
"No, really, it's okay," Charlinder cut in. "The class got a little off the subject after a history lesson, and I just wanted to move on so we could have math time. The kids didn't drop the subject when I asked, and they ended up fighting, so I broke them up and made everyone sit down in their math groups. And then it was over."
"Why couldn't you just let them discuss what they wanted?" asked Ruth.
"Because if I let a few six-year-olds decide the topic of discussion every time one of them had a whim, we'd never get anything accomplished,” he answered.
"So, you don't want them discussing the Plague?"
"The Plague is a history lesson for another time, which I do teach, just not today."
"So, what, you don't want them discussing the disease that set the human race back by thousands of years, except on your terms?"
"I'd have no right to call myself a teacher if I let the kids use school time to have any conversation at any time they wished," he pointed out. "Then I'd just be a babysitter, and while many parents figure it’s the same thing, I'm still interested in educating. And if you ever try teaching kids that young, you'll see you can't just let them run the place. So, yes, I do want them discussing the Plague on my terms only, or they can take it outside of school."
"Which I see your friend Taylor has already done, in any case," said Miriam.
"And does that bother you?" asked Ruth.
"If Taylor wants to give his big sister and brother a break from dealing with a six-year-old boy for just long enough to tell him that God loved His creations so much He tried to kill them all," Miriam explained, "then I'm frankly disturbed, but then I can't be everyone's mother when their mothers are alive. What bothers me is when people want to use the Plague as an excuse to pick fights with people who aren't interested ," she continued. "Like you're doing now, for example."
"Picking a fight?" Ruth said disbelievingly. "Is that what I'm doing?"
"Well, you are the one who brought it up," said Phoebe.
Yolande tucked the wool cards under one arm and took Stuart in the other. "Come on, Stu-baby, time to go home," she said while making haste from the Square.
"What you call 'picking a fight' is the least that I and anyone else who cares around here has to do to get anyone to talk," said Ruth. "What are you all afraid of, anyway?"
"We're not 'afraid of' anything except giving you lot the idea that there is anything to talk about involving your God. Just who are you to decide what anyone should be talking about around here, anyway?" demanded Miriam.
"Maybe we do it out of concern for your souls," Ruth offered, still just as composed as ever above her array of slender knitting needles and two-ply yarn. "Maybe we want you to start talking about what led to the Plague because we don't want you to suffer eternal damnation in Hell for your actions."
Charlinder wanted to run home and bury himself under a pile of Eileen Woodlawn's writings, but one look at Phoebe's face showed him what he felt: they just couldn't look away.
Miriam began laughing again. "And who's going to tell us what kind of behavior is going to send us to Hell? You?" she scoffed. "That is, assuming your promises of Heaven and Hell are places that really exist, which I'm far from convinced they are, but you know how I really feel about what caused the Plague, and what your God may have had to do with it?"
"No, Miriam, tell me how you really feel," Ruth said flatly.
"I just don't
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