Child of My Right Hand Read Online Free

that if this levy didn’t pass, school buses and all sports except football would be eliminated.
    During the years they’d commuted from Cincinnati, Jack and Genna hadn’t paid much attention other than to advise new faculty members, as they’d been advised, that Tipton schools weren’t worth spitting at. Now that they were local, Genna had persuaded Jack to join a group of faculty and staff working for the levy. It was at an orientation for TUTS, Tipton University for Tipton Schools, that he learned the background of the troubles. He was sitting in the living room of Stan Murray, who taught English. His wife, Lynn, a lecturer in the same department, had baked brownies, chewy and dense. Everyone else had left with packets of flyers and voter registration cards, except for a small, pretty blond Jack hadn’t met before.
    â€œExcuse my ignorance,” Jack began.
    â€œIgnorance can never be excused,” said Lynn Murray, who was large, big-busted and dark-haired, with a hint of moustache.
    The little blond winked, her eyes unusually blue and bright. “Except by the ignorant, who tend to embrace it.”
    â€œWill you let Jack talk?”
    Stan Murray had a sensual face. He liked to eat, he liked to drink, and his small eyes peered out over cheeks flushed with wine and his wife’s baked goods.
    â€œI understand Tipton is the largest town in the district.”
    â€œIt’s the only town,” said Lynn.
    â€œAnd the farmers are hard-pressed for cash.”
    â€œAnd don’t think their kids are going to college, so what do they care about AP classes?” Stan popped another half brownie in his mouth.
    â€œBut no levies passed in twelve years?”
    â€œI can explain.” Short hair, stylishly cut, fringed her cheeks and prominent forehead. “By the way, I’m Marla Lindstrom.”
    She extended her hand and he shook it.
    â€œJack Barish.”
    â€œUntil about fifteen years ago,” Marla said, smiling, “when I took this job at the age of fourteen…”
    â€œNo, twelve,” said Lynn.
    â€œâ€¦there were two districts, one for Tipton, one for the outlying townships, but only one high school, which the districts shared.”
    â€œHow did that work?” Jack asked.
    â€œAs well as you would have expected,” said this Marla, who spoke quickly and somehow lightly, looking directly at him, “given that the Board was dominated by university interests and they’ve always been so good about respecting the needs of the community. Anyway, the districts merged. And though there weren’t supposed to be changes, the unified board voted to close the elementary schools in Roscoe and Milton and start busing into the schools here in Tipton. Since then, Roscoe and Milton residents have voted three to one against new levies. It doesn’t matter that they’re hurting their own kids.” She looked straight at him, and there was an intensity in her eyes, a willingness to make connection he found thrilling, even scary. She added, “It’s sad, really.”
    Five minutes later, Jack was walking out to his car as Marla was walking out to hers, one of the new Beetles, metallic silver, reflecting the cool glow of the halogen street lamp.
    â€œThanks for the short course in Tipton history. What department are you in?”
    â€œMy nightmare ex was in English, which is how I know Stan and Lynn. I’m a guidance counselor at the high school.” She smiled, again actively sought his eyes. “That’s right. It’s my salary the levy will raise. One hundred fifty a month.”
    Jack glanced at the silver Beetle. As if she’d read his thoughts, Marla said, “My new toy. I inherited some money.”
    â€œI hope someone didn’t have to die for it.”
    â€œThey usually do.”
    â€œOh,” Jack said, “maybe you’ve met my son Simon. He’s a junior, new this