Soul Guardian

Chapter 48: Vermin

The screaming werewolf hit the lawn face first, leaving a vaguely Granny shaped dent. He lay still for a moment before slowly getting up and walking back towards his shop. Werewolves were pretty much immortal unless silver or fire was involved.

When he got to his shop he removed the backpack and made some adjustments, flipping it over and swapping the hose to a different port. He plugged his Soviet jetpack vacuum into a round hole on the side of his shop. It was an odd thing, a remnant from days gone by, an external vacuum port.

With a grin he started up the jetpack and braced his legs. It would be pressing down on him hard now that he had flipped it over. But Granny was strong. Those little dust bastards would never know what hit them.

He cackled maniacally as the turbine began to whine. So much power!

***

The warrior returned home triumphantly. Its fluff smelled of smoke and victory. But nobody was there to greet them. Not one speck of dust remained of its once great tribe.

The dust bunny realized now that what it had taken for a sign of divine favor had actually been a cunning plot to distract it. The broom wielder had sacrificed their armory for a decisive victory. And the warrior had been too blind, too proud, to see it coming.

From out of nowhere a book slammed down on top of the dust bunny. Mrs. Beeton's Book of Household Management held her prey still and helpless.

“Sorry little guy.” Granny said as he reached for his broom and dust pan. “Payback is a bitch.”

***

The four remaining members of the school board met early to discuss the situation with Bill Sharoth. To their surprise and annoyance he was in the meeting room waiting for them when they arrived. Lisa and Ryan were sitting in the far corner and doing their best not to make eye contact with anyone.

“Wonderful! Thank you all for being early. I was just finishing up my presentation.” Bill beamed.

There were four members of the board present. The recently deceased principal had been the tiebreaker. There were two women, and two men. All were of middle age and obviously used to getting their way.

They looked at the newcomer with suspicion. The thick wool sweater he wore gave them the feeling he cared more about comfort than trying to impress them. He could have at least worn a suit. (It wouldn’t have changed anything, but he should have.)

“Well sir, don't think that you can just buy your way on to the school board. Yes, you have money. But this is a Catholic School. We have to think about the spiritual well-being of our students.” Said a dour man and a gray suit jacket. Mr. Gris had his own reasons for stopping this newcomer from joining the board and they didn’t involve anyone’s well being besides his own. That snake in a pants suit Ms. Kitch had left him holding the bag when she died. The last thing he needed was someone poking around the school’s finances.

“He's right.” Mrs. Flores chimed in. She was wearing a pink jacket and a matching designer purse bought with money stolen from the school. “We must protect the innocence of our children. We know nothing about you or how you made your money. You could be an atheist for all we know!”

Bill laughed pleasantly as if he couldn’t see what was going on. “An atheist is the absolute last thing I am. I happen to know for a fact that God is real and so is hell.” He said the line with so much conviction that Mr. Gris began to worry that maybe this newcomer was right. If so, he was in big trouble.

“Sure, anyone can say that.” Pointed out a heavily muscled man in a red flannel shirt that everyone referred to as Red, or Mr. Red if they were being formal. He didn’t trust this city slicker. “But I wonder if you even know the Bible.”

“It is a Catholic school.” Ms. Trainor pointed out, though the petite well dressed woman’s voice lacked conviction.

“Like I told Lisa, I'm more than happy to sing for my supper. Ask me anything.” Bill gestured for them to begin.

What followed was a barrage of obscure and often confusing questions. Ms. Trainor and Mr. Red stayed out of it for the most part. However the other two seemed particularly invested in seeing Bill fail. He answered each question effortlessly. Sometimes he even corrected them when they got a quote wrong, which happened with surprising regularity.

“No, I believe that is Corinthians chapter one verse twenty-five.” Bill said without a hint of annoyance. In fact he seemed almost happy to have someone to talk to about the more obscure passages. Bill loved books and the bible was no exception. (He was even mentioned in the original, but unfortunately that chapter was cut. Nobody believed a demon would get distracted by snacks. Lucy had not been pleased.)

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Seeing that this wasn't going their way, the man in gray decided to try a different tactic. “Well, doesn't it say in the Bible that even the Devil may quote scriptures for his own purposes?”

“No.” Bill said firmly. This had been fun but he had to draw the line somewhere.

“What, then where is it from?” Mr. Gris asked. He was pretty sure he had heard that quote in church before.

“It's from Shakespeare. The Merchant of Venice.”

“Is it really?” Asked Mrs. Flores.

“Oh yes, right before they ask if dogs have money.” Bill sighed. He really missed the good old days when people could argue theology and scripture for hours. He didn’t really care about the content, he just liked winning.

“Listen. It’s time we got down to business. I understand that some of you don't want me here. I’m an outsider and none of you know me from Adam.”

Then Bill did something strange. He pulled a red leather notebook out of his pocket and tapped it with a finger while looking directly at Mr. Gris. The man went pale, sinking deeper and deeper into his chair as Bill continued to tap his finger on the red leather. Mr. Gris knew what was in that book. Then Bill turned his attention to Mrs. Flores and did the same thing. She turned a lovely shade of pink, almost matching her jacket. If she stood on one leg she could have passed for a flamingo. (But she didn’t, because that would have been silly.)

Bill stood up and began to hand out neatly stapled packets of paper with a summary of the school’s finances, where the money had gone, and who still had it. “The late Ms. Kitch was smart enough to make sure nobody but her was aware of the full picture. In fact, I'm sure most of you believed your schemes were too small to ever be noticed or do real harm to the school. But when looked at together, well… they add up.”

“How did you get all of this?” Mrs. Flores asked as she finished thumbing through the papers. She hoped the information was illegally obtained because if these documents stood up in court she was screwed.

“I'm a businessman. I'm used to doing my due diligence before engaging in a new venture.” Bill walked around the table, gathering up the packets. Mr. Gris resisted but a quiet word in his ear quickly put a stop to that.

Bill sat down again. “The first thing we are going to do is fill Ms. Kitch’s spot on the school board. Will you do the honors?” Bill pointed to Mr. Gris.

“Fine. All in favor of allowing Bill Sharoth to fill the position vacated by Henrietta Kitch please raise your hand.” The motion passed three to one. Mr. Gris was the only one who voted against it.

“Wonderful. I am so happy to have been chosen to serve.” Bill pointed to Mr. Gris. “Now, for misuse of school funds I suggest that you resign, peacefully and quietly.”

Mr. Gris stood up and glared at the Bill. “I’m going to make you pay for this. I have friends-”

Bill cut him off. “Don’t make me take a personal interest in your upcoming legal troubles.” He said, calmly and coldly. “I’m sure if I was properly motivated I could find more dirt to bury you with. But right now I am indifferent. Let’s keep it that way.”

Mr. Gris was about to say something nasty but when he saw the expression on Bill’s face he thought better of it. Bill had come into the room full of smiles and warmth. The man sitting in that chair now made him shiver. “Fine. I’m out.” Mr. Gris said before he stormed off. But he didn’t get very far because a pair of police officers were waiting for him outside the conference room. They took him aside and read him his rights.

“Now, those in favor of allowing acting principal Ryan to fill the recently vacated position please raise your hands.” Bill said, continuing on as if nothing happened.

Once again the vote was unanimous. The board looked around at one another, wondering who would be the next to leave. Ryan walked over and took a seat at the table. “I'm… I guess I'm happy to be here, just not happy about the circumstances.”

Bill pointed at the woman in pink. “Mrs. Flores. You have misused school funds. Will you resign peacefully and quietly?”

“Fine.” She got up from her chair. Somehow Mrs. Flores had deluded herself into believing she would be let off the hook if she played nice. But apparently Bill wasn’t in a forgiving mood. “You're an asshole, by the way.”

She stormed out and Bill turned to the remaining board members. “All in favor of allowing Lisa the librarian to fill the vacant position?” They all raised their hands and Lisa took her seat at the table.

Bill said something to the police waiting outside then came back in and sat down. “We won’t be needing them anymore.” He looked at the two remaining original board members. “My understanding is that Kitch was blackmailing the two of you. She kept notes about it in her journal. What happened wasn’t your fault.”

They both stood up to leave but Bill stopped them. “I don't believe your personal lives are anyone's business. Ms. Kitch used her leverage on you both to ensure she always got her way. Keep it a secret if you want, but I am more than happy to accept you as you are.”

Ms. Trainor shook her head. “I could lose my job and my house if anyone found out about me.”

Surprisingly it was Lisa who spoke next. “Oh to hell with them. Nobody worth working for gives a damn if you're a lesbian and life is too short to be unhappy.”

Mrs. Blue looked at the older woman in shock. “You knew?”

“Of course I knew! You can tell a lot about someone by the books they read.” Lisa pointed at Mr. Red. “Your love of Walt Whitman and Oscar Wilde hasn't gone unnoticed young man.”

Mr. Red blushed with embarrassment. “I'd rather we change the subject.”

“That is your choice. Just remember, there is a certain level of protection that comes from having powerful friends.” Bill added with a smile. “I’m sure everyone here agrees that we have much bigger problems to deal with than what consenting adults do in their spare time.”

Ryan looked around uncomfortably. “I mean, we're screwed anyway. We'll never be able to recover from Ms. Kitch’s embezzling. We might as well be open about who we are. I'm an atheist, by the way.”

“Fascinating.” Bill said, looking at Ryan with curiosity. “Well, the police are dealing with the two who were responsible for most of the theft. We can probably get a good portion of the money back, eventually.”

“But what about the scandal? We just booted out two board members. People are going to want to know why.” Ms. Trainor pointed out.

“So we come clean, use it to our advantage to drum up donations and get vendors to forgive the debts Kitch racked up.” Bill suggested. “We establish a clean slate.”

Ryan grimaced. “The diocese could float us emergency funds and gather donations but I don’t know if they wouldl be willing. Bishop Alfonso didn't get along with Kitch. He said the school wasn't catholic enough for his liking.”

“Let me deal with him. I have experience dealing with the clergy. Is there anyone he particularly likes that can manage an introduction?” Bill asked.

Ryan sighed. “For whatever reason he seems to like me, God only knows why. I'll set something up for tomorrow.”

“Well then, I suggest we get down to business.” Bill set folders down in front of each member of the school board. “We've got our work cut out for us.”

Mr. Red looked at his unopened folder. “It's not that I'm not grateful for all you are trying to do. But I have to wonder why you would even bother helping us save the school. Aren't you some big hotshot businessman? What's in it for you?”

Bill seemed to consider this. “May I speak bluntly?”

“Please do.” Mr. Red replied.

“If the school closes down it won't affect me one bit. I don't know if my daughter will even like it here. We may end up home schooling her if St. Drogo’s turns out not to be a good fit. I could say that I'm doing this because it's the right thing. But that would be a lie. I wouldn’t shed a tear if this place burned to the ground tomorrow because it doesn’t affect me.”

He let his confession hang in the air for a bit. “I’m not a good person. But I am one hell of an administrator. So while I’m here I will do my best to help get this school back on track. If you want a concrete reason why, too bad. I don’t have one. Maybe I just believe that schools are important. Maybe I’m planning to sell this place for scrap and turn the land it is on into a shopping mall. Or maybe I’m just bored. Take your pick.”

The board members looked at one another. Finally Ryan shrugged. “At least he’s honest.”