[SEVEN]
The John L. Davis School was an ancient red-brick building with an iron picket fence enclosing the schoolyard. As I went up the steps to the door, I could hear a class of small voices chanting something in unison. It was a sleepy, nostalgic, afternoon sound.
In the wide wooden hallway there were drinking fountains which looked absurdly low. A small boy came down the hall, tapping himself gently and wistfully on the head with a ruler. He gave me an opaque stare and continued on his way.
There was a nervous young woman in the outer office of the principal's office. She was typing and chewing her lip and when she looked up at me she was obviously irritated by the interruption.
"I'm trying to find a Miss Major who used to teach here. She taught eighth-grade subjects, I believe."
"We only go through the sixth. Then the children go to the junior high."
"I know that. But you used to have the seventh and eighth here."
"Not for a long time. Not since I've been here."
"Aren't there any records? Isn't there any place you could look?"