Time Capsule

33 year old Vice Principal Denise T. Franco stepped up to the podium outside Tubman Middle School. “Welcome, school board members, parents, former students, and current students to the day we have all been waiting for...” She scanned the crowd of onlookers and was impressed with the attendance. “Twenty years ago, when I was a student at this very school, we buried a time capsule. To preserve the memories of what life was like at our school.” She paused again to survey the crowd. Quite a few people were in attendance. She had hoped for more but was satisfied. “We took the time to select items that represented not only who we were but who we wanted to be in the future. Items that would show what made us into the people we are today.”

As she spoke, the crowd listened on. Most of the attendees were waiting to see the time capsule and the contents. Some of the people had put items inside and others just were happy to get out of class for the opening. As Vice Principal Franco continued on, one man, a former teacher at the school, looked on with interest. He was 50 years old and well tanned. He wore khaki shorts, a button up shirt, and a baseball cap. He kept his distance from the podium but could easily hear and see Miss Franco. “When I was selected to add something to the time capsule,” she continued, “I thought about what I wanted my life to be like in twenty years.” “I thought about who I wanted to be and how I would become that person.” As she continued, a woman, a teacher at the school, turned towards the man. She glanced at him and then looked away.

“Now, is the time that we have all been waiting for,” Franco said. She motioned to the maintenance crew, and they slowly raised the excavator. Attached to the bucket were two straps which were slowly raising out of the ground. As it rose, the crowd was able to see the time capsule rise from the earth. Once clear of the hole, the crew moved the capsule onto a platform. On the capsule, though covered into dirt, the crowd could read the name of the former middle school, Washington. The crowd leaned forward and clapped as the crew backed away.

“Now, we can see what has been locked away for this generation.” Vice Principal Franco made a show of holding up a key before the crowd. She held the key aloft before she inserted it into the lock on the capsule. She struggled to turn the key at first but finally it opened. She lifted the lid of the capsule that lay on its side so the crowd could see its contents. “Gather round,” she said, ushering the crowd to take a closer look. As the crowd formed into a line, she stood behind the capsule staring at its contents. Inside, she could see a yearbook, an old laptop, what looked like a class composite, and someone’s phone. “Everything will be brought inside and put on display for everyone to see.”

As the line formed, the tanned man got into line to wait his turn. As he moved forward, he thought of the last time he had stood in front of the school. He was alone with just a box containing his teaching career. Inside the box were some notes from students, a photo of a former girlfriend, a few awards, and other supplies. He hadn’t wanted to leave, but it had turned out for the best. He moved South and met his future wife. But now, as he moved forward, he thought of what might have been if he had fought to stay. Would he still teach here? Would he have married someone else?

As the crowd moved forward, Vice Principal Franco smiled by the capsule. “Soon,” she thought, “I will be principal of this school and who knows...Superintendent.” As people moved forward, she greeted them with smiles and thank yous until she spotted the tanned man in the crowd. “Could it really be him,” she whispered to herself.

The tanned man moved closer feeling Franco’s gaze on him. He smiled underneath his baseball cap. He could sense that she knew he was there. He had made the right choice in coming back. For his own sanity, he had to set the record straight. Just as he was about to step in front of the capsule, the same woman from the crowd recognized him. “Mr. Stephens,” she said. “It’s Courtney. From Language Arts class.”

“Courtney,” Mr. Stephens said. “It is so nice to see you. How have you been?”

“How have I been?” Courtney asked. “How have you been? You left so suddenly that none of us knew what happened. We thought you had died.”

“No, I obviously didn’t die,” he said.

“Well that’s good..we were all worried about you.” Courtney looked up at Denise and said, “Denise, you remember our former teacher Mr. Stephens.”

“Of course,” she said. “I am surprised to see you back here. What could possibly make you want to come back here today?”

As word of Mr. Stephens spread through the crowd, most people stopped looking at the capsule and talked with Mr. Stephens. “Why did you leave?” “Where have you been?” “What are you doing now?” With vague answers, Mr. Stephens responded to the crowd until he heard one voice booming over them all. “Mr. Stephens, why are you really here?” The voice came from the Vice Principal, and she was looking down at him from the platform. As the crowd waited for his reply, he motioned with his hands for the crowd to part. He moved through them and stepped onto the platform next to the capsule. While the crowd watched, he reached into the capsule and pulled out a small black notebook. “To grab this,” he said.

“You can’t take that,” Vice Principal Franco said. “It is part of the capsule.” Reaching her hand out, she expected him to place the small black notebook on her hand, but he didn’t. He just stood there as the rest of the crowd watched them. “Give me the Notebook,” the Vice Principal said, raising her voice. The crowd watched as the Vice Principal stood there expecting Mr. Stephens to return the notebook but he didn’t. He just stood there gazing at her. Staring at each other, Mr. Stephens not returning the notebook and Vice Principal Franco with her hand out, the crowd watched and waited. Courtney said, “What is so important and that notebook? Is that why you left?”

Mr. Stephens bent the small black notebook in his hands. He hadn’t wanted to talk about this. He just wanted to grab the notebook and leave. “Yes,” he answered.

“Why?” Courtney said.

“I know why,” Vice Principal Franco answered. The crowd looked at her. “Mr. Stephens left because he was accused of inappropriate conduct as a teacher.”

“Is it true?” someone from the crowd called out.

Mr. Stephens tapped the notebook in his hands. He looked at the crowd and said, “Yes, I left because I was accused of inappropriate conduct as a teacher but no the accusations were false.”

“Then, why didn’t you stay? You were a great teacher.” Courtney said.

“Because I didn’t want to go through the process of fighting the school board and embarrassing a student. The school board gave me an easy out, and it was just to resign and never teach again.”

“But that is just wrong,” Courtney said.

“Was it?” Mr. Stephens replied. “I moved South, met my future wife, and have lived a very happy life. Even though I never taught again, I have been very happy.”

“Here,” Mr. Stephens said handing the small black notebook to Vice Principal Franco. “I shouldn’t have come and this belongs to you.” He hopped off of that platform and walked through the crowd. People parted as he made his way to the parking lot. After he left, Vice Principal Franco said, “Well, we still have a lot to celebrate today. Come on everyone and let’s finish looking at this time capsule. The crowd gradually formed a line and people finished looking at the capsule.

“Come back tomorrow,” Vice Principal Franco said. “We will have the contents labeled and on display in the multipurpose room.

After the crowd left, Vice Principal Franco returned to her office. She still held the small black notebook in her hand. She had recognized it instantly. Mr. Stephens had made her write in it every Friday filling it with her feelings and ramblings. She turned to the date April 9th. The entry that had made her parents so mad and had caused Mr. Stephens so much trouble.

It read:

“Hey Mr. Stephens,

Why don’t you look at me the way you look at that picture of that girl on your desk? Don’t you think that I am prettier than her. I know that you’d be happier with me than her. We could have so much fun together. I’d never tell. We could keep it our little secret. Because you have to remember that I am D.T.F.”