Mr. Hendersen is sort-of ushering students out of the school building. He is among a throng of girls, parents, and luggage that exits the school building’s side door and makes its way out to the parking lot where there is some last minute chit-chat, the honking of horns, and waving good-bye. He then heads toward the school building’s main entrance. He passes along the front of the building . . . where a dozen or so “Smiley Faces” of various sizes are staked into the ground . . . but these yellow faces are wearing a frown with a tear falling from one eye. Mr. Hendersen walks past them and enters the school building. He walks down the hall to his office, puts the key into the doorknob, turns it, and goes in.
There, standing on the far side of the room, is . . . Rachel. She had been sitting, but is standing now. And, after a few moments of just looking at each other, she says:
Rachel: I’m staying.
At this, Mr. Hendersen’s head bows down a bit, straightens up again, and then he says:
Mr. Hendersen: As a wife.
Rachel: Yes.
Mr. Hendersen: (pause) But . . . I don’t want a wife.
Rachel: Well, that’s just too bad now, isn’t it.
They start to walk toward each other, and when they meet, there is a moment . . . a moment of shared understanding, hope . . . and uncertainty.
Mr. Hendersen swings his right arm forward a little and wraps his hand around Rachel’s hand. Rachel turns her head to one side and leans it against the top of Mr. Hendersen’s chest. Then he slowly lowers his chin so that his head is resting on top of hers.
And, as they are standing there, some improvised verses come into Mr. Hendersen’s mind.
How can I know
If I open my heart to you
Will you hurt me
Will you try
Will you have a conscious effort to do good
Or will you let selfishness rule your heart
THE END