are the one who wants to suspend a book. That is the same as suspending the reason for all of us being in this school. Freedom of inquiry. Freedom of thought. Oh, God, why am I wasting my breath?”
“Are you saying, Miss Baines, that a book is more important than a child? That rules may be adjusted to particular circumstances when a child is concerned, but
never
when a book is concerned?”
With a sound that was somewhere between a word and a cry of anguish, Nora Baines stalked out of the room.
Mr. Moore, leaning back in his chair, was allowing himself a half smile, when she suddenly popped back in.
“I am
not
going to discontinue the use of
Huckleberry Finn
until the review procedure is
finished
. And if you try to force me to, I shall go public!”
“You already are,” the principal said amiably. “This is a public school. Nothing is hidden here.”
“You know what I mean, Mr. Moore. Not everything that happens here gets into the newspapers and on television. Yet.”
The principal, his elbows on his chair, gazed speculatively at Nora Baines. “You know,” he said, “a teacher who acquires a public reputation for creating controversy—even with the most noble motives—injures her credibility as an emotionally dependable, fair-minded guide to the young. I would be very distressed, Miss Baines, to see you undermine your fine reputation over these many years when, after all, this simply requires a brief period of self-restraint on your part until the democratic process at George Mason is allowed to—”
“NO!” Nora Baines, still at the door, shouted. “If this book is convicted, then, and only then—and with utter despair—will I stop teaching it. But not until then.”
“I hear you, dear Miss Baines. I hear you. Take some hot milk before you retire, and we shall speak of this again.”
This time she slammed the door.
And opened it again.
“I assume,” Nora Baines said sharply, “that you have asked the parent to fill out a formal complaint form so that we can get this show on the road.”
Mr. Moore suppressed a sigh. “I shall ask Mr. McLean this very afternoon to fill out the form. It somehow slipped my mind.”
“Hah!” Nora Baines said.
“Anything else?”
“There’ll be plenty else.” She moved through the door.
“Gently, my dear Miss Baines. I’ve become quite attached to that door.”
A few minutes later, the principal came out of his office, looked around the outer office to be sure Nora Baines had gone, and said to his secretary, “Rena, ask Miss Fitzgerald to come see me. Fit her in as early as you can tomorrow.”
VI
Deirdre Fitzgerald was curious about Barney Roth. He was in the library so often, more than any other student actually, but he hardly ever spoke to her.
Looking at him going through the card catalog first thing the next morning, she thought: Either he never needs any help, or he’s shy. Probably both. Or he resents me. Nora says he was a particular favorite of Karen Salters’s. Well, I never did believe a librarian should force herself on anybody. Besides, I’m kind of shy myself, I guess.
But here he was, coming toward her. “Miss Fitzgerald, I’m looking for a book called
Banned Books/387 B.C. to 1978 A.D
. There’s a reference to it in something I’m reading for Miss Crowley’s course. You know, American Problems. There doesn’t seem to be a card for it, though.”
“There was a card,” Deirdre said, “but no book togo with the card. Somebody must have liked it so much he couldn’t do without it. I have the book on order, but if you like, I have a copy at home you can borrow.”
“Gee, thanks, I’ll be very careful with it.”
“Least I can do.” She smiled. “You’re my best customer.”
“Where you worked before,” Barney asked, “did you ever have any problems with people wanting to ban books?”
“Where I was before was in a private school for girls. The headmistress had a deep interest in the wishes of the parent
Brauna E. Pouns, Donald Wrye