We Are Dangerous: The League of Utah Writers Anthology Series, #4

By LUW Press

"BEWARE OF ARTISTS: They mix with all classes of society and are therefore the most dangerous." ~ A propaganda poster circulated during the McCArthy Era 

 

Writers are among the most dangerous of artists. Their ability to imagine futures of peace, equality, and acceptance have the potential to inspire our reality and model better ways of being, and even more important, thinking.

 

This collection of stories and poems dares to explore dangers real and fantastical and perhaps through their enjoyment, we will all dare to imagine a world made better through art.

 

Featuring fiction and poetry from:

 

C.H. Lindsay

September Roberts

Alex Jay Lore

Denis Feehan

C.W. Allen

David Rodeback

Bryan Young

Susan J. Wurtzburg

Monica J. Williams

Debra Birdwell Winkler

Danielle Harward

Annika Wildenradt

Christian Bradley

Rachel DeFriez

M. Rohr

Lillian Angelovic

H.L. Voss

Linné Elizabeth

C.R. Langille

Lorraine Jeffery

J.L. Milligan

Talysa Sainz

Gail Boling

Pat Partridge

Wayne F. Gledhill

Logan Sidwell

Tim Heare

Nicole Dvorak Klunder

Daniel Yocom

Heidi Voss

Josie Hume

Lucy Tayco Price

Michelle Chamberlain

Valarie Schenk

C.M. Greathouse

Margot Monroe

Steve Capone, Jr.

Jacquelyn Dohoney

Shawn Pollock

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: LUW Press
• Release date: Jun 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9798988576716

Book preview

We Are Dangerous

The League of Utah Writers 2023 Anthology

We Are Dangerous: The League of Utah Writers 2023 Anthology

Copyright © 2023 by the League of Utah Writers

Individual works are Copyright © 2023 by their respective authors

All rights reserved. The stories in this book are the property of their respective authors, in all media both physical and digital. No one, except the owners of this property, may reproduce, copy, or publish in any medium any individual story or part of this anthology without the express permission of the author of the work.

The contents of this book are fiction. Any resemblance to any actual person, place, or event is purely coincidental. Any opinions expressed by the authors are their own and do not reflect those of the editors or the League of Utah Writers.

Cover design © 2023 by the League of Utah Writers

Edited by Beverly Bernard

Print ISBN:

Contents

Foreword

Eye of the Beholder

C. H. Lindsay

Mai and November

September Roberts

Is It The Sunday Scaries Or Is It Just Trauma?

Alex Jay Lore

Thoughts and Prayers

Denis Feehan

Levronia City Jail, 12:36 am

C.W. Allen

We Will Never Be Like Those People

David Rodeback

Challenged

Bryan Young

Breaking Taboos: A 2020 Tale

Susan J. Wurtzburg

My Body is (Not) the Problem

Monica J. Williams

Shifting Sands

Debra Birdwell Winkler

Her

Danielle Harward

Tigers, Storms, and Trees

Annika Wildenradt

Blind Date

Christian Bradley

The Turtle and the Butterfly: A Fable

Rachel DeFriez

A Daughter Like Me

M. Rohr

Critical

Lillian Angelovic

Manic State of Mind

H.L. Voss

Broken Isn't Always Bad

Linné Elizabeth

So Was She

C.R. Langille

America 1790

Lorraine Jeffery

The Blade of Knowledge

J.L. Milligan

Birthright

Talysa Sainz

The Spelling Lesson

Gail Boling

The Break Out

Pat Partridge

The First Small Stirring of Danger

Wayne F. Gledhill

The Hands That Do a Machine's Work

Logan Sidwell

The Adaptation of Instinct

Tim Heare

Writing...Love...Dangerous Things?

Nicole Dvorak Klunder

Create What You Know

Daniel Yocom

Siren Ascending

Heidi Voss

Mirror, Mirror

Josie Hume

Loophole

Lucy Tayco Price

Frostbite

Michelle Chamberlain

The Few

Valarie Schenk

The Real Game

C.M. Greathouse

Desiccated Tears

Margot Monroe

That Time Grampa Andrei Worked as a Medium at Quail City Amusement Park

Steve Capone, Jr.

You Should Run

Jacquelyn Dohoney

The Buskers

Shawn Pollock

About the Authors

Foreword

BEWARE OF ARTISTS: They mix with all classes of society and are therefore the most dangerous.

A propaganda poster circulated during the McCarthy Era

To define danger and how it impacts us are questions storytellers have long explored  through the use of tricksters in fairy tales, power-hoarding gods of myth, monsters and men of horror, and even nursery rhymes where posies that ring-around and make us all fall down are not merely flowers. 

But what is the most dangerous? The McCarthy poster from which this anthology pulls its theme speaks of something in our world that is far more insidious. The dangers of racism, classism, anti-intellectualism, and facism are just some of the methods in which humans try to dominate each other. Clearly it is the belief of some that to do anything less than limit thought, censor ideas, and segregate us is unthinkable. What then, is the greatest danger to these beliefs?

Us.

Creators, artists, brains that push barriers, delve into nuance, explore the imagination, and ask questions with imagery, poetry, and prose. We are agents of change.

In the 2022 Quills President’s message, Bryan Young shared these words:

We writers are the most dangerous, there’s no doubt about it. But we’re not dangerous in the way they think. We’re dangerous because every act of self-expression frees the soul and is an act of rebellion against a society that puts profit ahead of people. How can you consume their corporate agendas if you’re busy creating something of your own? 

This anthology is a collection of many dangers. Human nature, overlooked mental health, violence in our schools, and the threat of controlling information are explored in these poems, essays, and stories. Some are even monsters, but often, even they are merely metaphors for deeper traumas. We hope all will inspire your own creations and spark within you the desire to be absolutely terrifying.

- Callie Stoker,

League of Utah Writers Publications Chair

Eye of the Beholder

C. H. Lindsay

Oil on canvas mixes light

With varied colors to

Enliven shadow-filled eyes

With renewal of sight.

            Art is surreptitious.

Words, thoughtfully constructed,

Aerate the mind with their

Microscopic story worms

Sparking life from language.

            Books are insidious.

Harmonies melt into soul,

Bypassing reason to

Shape untethered emotion

Into shared empathy.

            Music is deceitful.

Scriptures teach followers that

Kindness is godliness

And helping your neighbor shows

Obedience to God.

            Religion is harmful.

Divergent opinions give

Commonality voice.

Amicable discord proves

Differences give hope.

            Free speech is hazardous.

Fate's rollercoaster forces

Humanity to cope

With its ups, downs, and sharp curves,

To be adaptable.

            Living is dangerous.

Mai and November

September Roberts

The end, Amanda said as she typed the words.

The satisfied smile on her lips didn’t last long. Her mind raced ahead to next steps. She would have to send it to her editor, approve the cover, get it formatted, proofread it, get marketing materials in place for the release date, and get copies out to her advance reader team. She took a deep breath and relaxed into her seat. Those were all steps for another day. Now was a time for celebration.

Amanda opened her alter ego’s Facebook account and scrolled to her self-publishing book group. It was customary to take a picture of the end page with your celebratory drink of choice. Tonight was a red wine kind of night, so she filled her favorite mug with the remnants of the bottle of cabernet sitting on the edge of her kitchen counter. It took a few minutes to get the lighting just right so the glare of the screen wouldn’t detract from the overall look she was going for. The edge of her Reading Rainbow sticker peeked around the curve of her mug, the red stripe the same color as the wine inside. The sticker that read Just One More Chapter was positioned under the engraved crest on the mug and squarely facing the camera.

That was the motto she lived by, both in and out of her classroom. Reading a book? Just one more chapter. Writing a book? Just one more chapter. It’s how she kept on task no matter how tired she was after a day of teaching. Self-publishing kept her on her toes, but the encouragement from her rabid fan base was plenty of motivation.

There. She snapped the picture and captioned it with, Celebration time! Nothing like a hot ending to start my date with Bob, the best kind of boyfriend. With a chuckle, she posted it and waited.

This group had gotten her through a lot. Moving away from her family and friends and starting a new career in a new state had been easier to handle knowing they would be here for her. Even though this group of genre writers understood her, she spent her nights alone. She longed for community but hadn’t built up the nerve to socialize at work. Yet.

Within a minute, a fellow erotica writer commented, I hope you have fresh batteries! 😉

Monday morning, Amanda glanced at the clock every few seconds. Why did she do this to herself? Nothing like drawing attention to the newest teacher at Capstone High by being perpetually late. Time management was not her strength. Not that she was going to be late—this time.

Five minutes before the first bell rang, she turned into the parking lot in front of the high school. As she drove past the crosswalk, Taylor Christensen, PTA president and probably mother of the year—at least in her heart—waved.

Amanda grabbed her bag and her mug full of coffee and bolted for the front door.

Good morning Ms. Mai, nice of you join us, Taylor shouted over the din of noisy teenagers while tapping at her smart watch.

As if Taylor Christensen was single-handedly in charge of keeping track of everyone coming and going from the school grounds. Amanda waved and smiled back. What else could she do?

Another perky face greeted her from behind the front desk. Morning. The office manager smiled and then glanced at the mug in Amanda’s hand. The smile slipped from her face.

Hey, Heather. She frowned at the way Heather looked at her. Everything okay?

Heather nodded, looking between Amanda and her coffee cup. Just noticed your stickers.

Everyone in the school had gotten a mug engraved with the Capstone High crest during professional development the first week of August. It had quickly become Amanda’s favorite. The stickers she had decorated it with not only brought her joy but identified it as hers in a school where there were dozens just like it.

The bell rang and broke the odd tension between them. See you later, she called as she left the office and ran up the stairs to let in the hoard of freshmen waiting for their Language Arts class to begin.

First period blurred into second, lunch, and third. During her prep period at the end of the day, a soft knock pulled her out of her grading. Come in.

Hey. Seth Sparks, a math teacher from down the hall, entered her classroom. Are you doing okay?

She frowned. Yeah? Why?

Seth pulled a chair from the closest desk, his forearms flexing, making his fire tattoo move, the tiny flames dancing on his golden skin. Amanda could write poetry about Seth’s arms. There were all sorts of poetry-worthy parts of her co-worker. I heard some rumors about you. He grimaced.

Rumors? Her heart sped up. About?

I was in the office during first period, and I overheard Heather and Mrs. Christensen talking about some sort of Facebook post she saw this weekend. Heather whispered something about a sticker on a mug and mentioned your name. Then Mrs. Christensen flipped out, mumbling about smut and filth and demanded a meeting with Hannah.

Amanda’s mouth went dry. Taylor Christensen spoke with the principal? About a Facebook post that featured Amanda’s sticker positioned just so next to her laptop screen. The one she had posted Saturday night using her pen name. The very pen name she worked hard to keep separate from her teaching life.

Seth nodded. I heard about it at lunch, too. Some of my students were talking about you and your books. You might want to stay off the Capstone parent group on Facebook. I saw the screenshot of your original post. Apparently, these people don’t have anything better to do with their time. Parents at charter schools tend to be a bit much. He gave her a soft smile. For what it’s worth, I think it’s cool you write books. Words have never been my strength. I’m a numbers guy.

Thanks for the heads up. Breathing became difficult. I should probably…

Yeah. He stood and put the chair back. I’m here if you need to talk. Or go for a drink. Whatever. Was that a blush creeping up his cheeks?

Thanks, I need to finish grading. She wasn’t going to cry. Not in front of Seth. Not at work. Not because the gossip mill had uncovered her secret. Thankfully, Seth left before her eyes had a chance to betray her.

With shaking hands, she unlocked her phone and logged into Facebook.

To absolutely no one’s surprise, Amanda was summoned to the principal’s office after the last bell. What did surprise her was that Hannah was not waiting inside. Dr. Lister, the director, sat behind the desk.

Ms. Mai, she said as a way of greeting.

Dr. Lister. Amanda swallowed hard and sat in the chair opposite.

It has come to my attention that one of our parents is very unhappy because of your… she frowned, clearly trying to find the right words before going on, "...extracurricular activities."

Even knowing they were coming, the words hit her hard. Thank goodness Seth had warned her. She’d spent the rest of her prep period researching the school’s code of conduct. Again. She’d read it several times when she’d taken the job, just to be sure her writing career wouldn’t get in the way of anything.

If this is about my writing, let me assure you that I am not breaking any rules. My books are published under a pen name and are written after school hours on my personal computer. I have always kept my teaching life separate from my writing.

Dr. Lister nodded. I believe you. But I need you to understand the gravity of this situation. Our charter was written with our stakeholders in mind. The PTA president is the voice of those stakeholders and therefore wields a lot of power, and right now, she’s not happy. In my experience, Taylor Christensen is more bark than bite, but it’s best to keep her happy.

How much power could one person have?

Tuesday morning, Amanda got to work early. Like early early. It was worth it to avoid the possibility of seeing Taylor Christensen or anyone else. Besides, it wasn’t like she had been able to sleep, so when her alarm went off at six, she actually got up instead of snoozing it a dozen times. But the change in her routine threw off the whole day. Even her students seemed off.

When the lunch bell rang, Amanda took her leftovers to the break room, trying to ignore her growling stomach.

As she pushed through the door, the room went quiet, and everyone looked up at her. They had definitely been talking about her. Just what the newest hire wants. Her plan to slowly work her way into this group of people fell apart in an instant. Why would they want to be friends with the school pariah? She shook her head and turned around.

Wait up, Amanda, Seth called after her. Within a few seconds, he jogged ahead and stopped in front of her.

She stiffened. What? When she finally looked up at him, the only thing she found in his eyes was kindness. The fight went out of her.

Let me heat that up for you. He touched the container in her hands, their fingers brushing as he took it from her. After a quick glance at her food, he said, I’ll see you in three minutes.

Why was he being so nice? And how did he know how long it would take to reheat her spaghetti?

Right on time, Seth walked through the door with her lunch in one hand and his food in the other. Do you want company?

She didn’t hesitate to answer. I’d like that. Thank you. Seth made everything better. He had since the day they met during the team-building activities all faculty were required to attend during professional development week. She had secret hopes that there might be something between them, but there was no way she would let those hopes out into the light of day. Seth was friendly with everyone, his confidence obvious in every interaction she’d seen. Not that she was stalking him or anything. Everyone people-watched while they were waiting for the copier, didn’t they?

Seth put his food down on her desk and pulled a chair over.

Do I want to know what they were saying about me? She probably didn’t. Especially since she’d heard it all before. Any time anyone figured out what kind of books she wrote, they always had something to say about it. And it was never good.

Mrs. Christensen got into it with Kathleen last year. She almost quit. Can you imagine anyone not getting along with the art teacher? Seriously. Everyone loves her and her colorful hair, even if Mrs. Christensen doesn’t. We're all on your side if you’d just give us a chance.

Wait. What? Her mouth fell open.

Yeah. Mrs. Christensen is nasty. She has an opinion about everyone, and she’s very vocal about it. You’re not the first one she’s set her sights on, but we’ve never seen her go after someone this hard. Seth took a deep breath and leaned closer. She started a petition.

For what? She could guess.

To get you fired. But you shouldn’t worry. He shook his head. I’ve dealt with people like her all my life. They think their money and influence entitles them to push everyone around and excuses their bad behavior. You’ve done nothing wrong. What you do on your own time is none of her business.

She wants me to get fired, and you’re telling me not to worry?

Seth smiled. That’s exactly what I’m telling you. Mrs. Christensen isn’t a saint, and if she follows through with this and makes a scene, she’s going to regret it.

What did that mean? What did Seth know that he wasn’t telling her?

Don’t worry. We have your back.

Why are you being so nice to me?

A slow smile tipped up the edges of Seth’s mouth. Because I know what it’s like to be judged for doing something taboo. I don’t care what they think, and neither should you.

The parking lot was an even bigger mess than usual during pick up. From her window on the second floor, Amanda watched Taylor Christensen walk from car to car with her stop sign in one hand and clipboard in the other. From the look of things, that petition would have hundreds of signatures on it.

Amanda hid in her classroom until the building was empty. The threat of being outed had weighed on her since she started writing. Because no matter how much she loved or needed her job, she would be judged for the words she wrote. As if healthy expressions of consent and sex were something to be ashamed of. Creating steamy stories brought joy to her life, and based on her reviews, they brought joy to her readers too. In her opinion, the world needed more joy.

Once she was home, she couldn’t stop doom scrolling through the Facebook parent group. The first commandment of the internet is thou shalt not read the comment section. And yet here she was. When would she learn?

The next morning went much like the previous, but when she got to school, a few of her colleagues waited outside her classroom, Seth among them.

The blue-haired art teacher stepped forward and handed her a bag of Skittles. I thought you could use this to get through your day. Rainbows always cheer me up. She squeezed Amanda’s forearm gently.

The senior language arts teacher handed her a bag of salt and vinegar chips. Don’t let our salty friend get to you.

Tears pricked the corner of her eyes, but she couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips. Thanks. I really appreciate it. Had Seth done this? Recruited people to help ease the worry and loneliness? Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad.

Halfway through first period, the principal showed up at her door. Ms. Mai? Dr. Lister needs a word in my office. I’ll sit with your class until you return.

This was not a request.

Amanda’s heart raced.

The students started talking, their rising voices escalating Amanda’s anxiety.

No need to talk. Please get back to your reading. Ms. Mai will be back soon, Hannah said as she nodded toward the door.

Amanda followed her orders, and when she entered the principal’s office, she came face to face with Taylor Christensen.

Oh good, you’re finally here, Taylor said with a smile full of teeth. She pulled a sheaf of papers out of her designer bag and thrust them in front of Dr. Lister, never breaking eye contact with Amanda. I managed to gather enough signatures on my petition to call for an emergency board meeting to discuss your employment, Ms. Mai.

Dr. Lister frowned. Let’s not be rash.

Rash? Taylor turned her focus on Dr. Lister. If you had listened to me on Monday, we could’ve avoided all this unpleasantness.

Amanda focused on her breathing. She couldn’t let Taylor know how much this hurt.

So now, I’m telling you what’s going to happen. Friday at five, the board will be holding a meeting where Capstone parents will have the opportunity to voice their concerns about having a dangerous person like Ms. Mai around our impressionable children.

Dr. Lister frowned. I’m on the board; I would know if there was a meeting on Friday.

I just told you. Taylor smirked. Chad, the board president, is an old friend of mine. We’ve belonged to the same country club for years. Our kids play tennis together. He’s more than happy to take my concerns seriously.

The muscle in Dr. Lister’s jaw bulged as she clenched her teeth. I guess we’ll see what happens on Friday. Ms. Mai, please return to your classroom. Thank you for your time.

If Amanda got fired from this job, there was no way another school would hire her. That meant going back to tending bar and she hated that with a fiery passion.

Work passed in a blur, and at the end of the day, Amanda had just enough energy to knock on Seth’s door down the hall.

Seth? she called out as she pushed through the door.

Hey, he said with a smile, which faded just as fast as it had appeared when he finally looked up at her. What’s wrong?

Can I take you up on that offer to get a drink?

An hour later, Amanda’s ride-share pulled up in front of the bar Seth had told her about. She spotted him within seconds. The dim overhead light caught on the loose strands of sandy blond hair that escaped the messy bun he’d pulled his hair into at some point after work.

I ordered fries, but I think we need booze. A lot of booze, he said as a way of greeting.

You read my mind.

They didn’t talk much until they’d each finished two drinks.

While she was sipping on her third, the remnants of the tension in her shoulders finally slipped away. Thanks for agreeing to go out with me. Today was awful.

Do you want to talk about it?

Not really. She couldn’t bring herself to repeat Taylor’s words. Not even to this man, who made her feel like nothing else in the world mattered.

That’s okay. Can I ask you something else? About your original post?

Amanda took another sip of her lemon drop and nodded. She longed to talk about her writing with friends in real life, but that had never been an option before. Maybe that would change with Seth.

How long have you been seeing Bob?

She choked for a solid minute before she was composed enough to answer. Um, I don’t think we should be talking about that.

Seth pressed his lips together. You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. It’s none of my business who your boyfriend is or how long you’ve been dating.

She snorted and covered her face with her hands. I don’t have a boyfriend.

It’s none of my business. I don’t know why I asked. I think I’ve had too much to drink.

Amanda peeked through her fingers. Seth’s neck had turned a lovely shade of pink and he was looking everywhere but at her.

B.O.B. is an acronym.

Seth looked at her and frowned in concentration. Best of the best? Battle of the bands? Baby on board? Bottom of the —

Battery operated boyfriend, she said, interrupting him.

Battery… His eyes widened and then he burst into laughter. The first comment on the thread makes so much sense now. The flush on his neck spread up his cheeks.

She leaned back in her chair and smiled.

Is that how you commemorate each book you’ve finished? His voice was low.

Her face warmed. Only if I’ve done a good job.

What does that mean?

You know what I write, don’t you? It’s all anyone in the parent group can talk about. You told me Taylor called it smut and filth. And just like that, she’d ruined their flirty moment. Smooth. No wonder she was forever single.

Amanda… He said her name so tenderly it settled around her like a blanket. Don’t. He reached across the table and took her hand and squeezed it. Don’t let them get to you. Instead, think about how many more books you’re going to sell since Mrs. Christensen has been promoting your work all over town.

She couldn’t say what felt better. His careful words or the feel of his warm fingers wrapped around hers. You’re nice.

So are you.

Amanda worked through her hangover the next day and she fought anxiety Friday. The impending doom of the board meeting hung over her all day like a rain cloud.

Just before five that afternoon, she wondered if she should start packing her things. Would they fire her at the meeting in front of everyone? Would the school have a hard time filling her position in the middle of the year? Who would take over for her? Would they take care of her students?

A knock on her door pulled her out of her head, and Seth’s voice broke through the gloom like a ray of sunshine. Are you ready?

No, she answered honestly. I can’t do this. I can’t face her. I can’t face a room full of people telling me I’m not good enough. That I don’t belong. That I should be ashamed of who I am. I love teaching, but I love writing just as much. I’m not going to stop.

And you shouldn’t. The world needs people like you. People who are good with words. Especially people who make the world a happier place with their words. He wiggled his eyebrows. I know it’s going to be hard, but I believe in you. We all do. Come on, let’s go. He held out his hand, and she gladly took it.

Just like that, her worry slipped away, and longing took its place. What did it mean? He’d touched her hand at the bar. Did friends hold hands? In her books, she could make her characters do whatever she wanted, but she had no real-life experience to understand anything Seth did.

Outside the auditorium, he squeezed her shoulders. Remember to breathe.

She took a deep breath, letting it out in one shaky gust before pushing inside.

The room went quiet when she walked in, which was quite a feat since it was packed. All eyes followed her and Seth to the front of the room, where the five members of the board sat at a long table.

Taylor stood from the front row and flashed her too bright smile. Let’s get this meeting started.

Excuse me, Mrs. Christensen, said the man wearing a suit at the end of the table, but you do not have the authority to run our board meetings. As board secretary, it’s my duty to call this meeting to order.

But I — Taylor began but stopped abruptly as the man in the middle of the table held up his hand. Sorry, Chad. She was clearly trying to look contrite, but it came off as constipated.

With her heart in her throat, Amanda sat next to Seth in the two empty seats at the front of the room.

The board secretary looked at his watch and stood. This emergency board meeting is now in session.

Without waiting for an invitation, Taylor turned to face the audience and grabbed the microphone. Thank you for joining me tonight, fellow concerned parents. What a week it’s been. I know I speak for everyone in the room when I say something must be done about Ms. Mai.

Amanda made the mistake of looking around her. Angry glares met her. This was it. The end. The teaching career she’d spent so much time working toward and finally achieved would never be able to coexist with her published work. It would probably be like this anywhere she tried to get a teaching job. It didn’t matter how qualified she was. All anyone would see was the content of her books and deem her unqualified to be around kids based on their own bias.

Taylor seemed to speak for every person in this room. And Taylor had a lot to say, some of which Amanda had missed. She tuned back in when she heard Taylor call her a pervert.

Frankly, we can’t stand for it. She’s dangerous. We all know what she’s thinking about all the time. That kind of filth pervades all aspects of a person’s life, and I, for one, don’t want her around our children. I ask that the board do the right thing and let her go. Taylor sat across the aisle from Amanda and sneered.

A few parents clapped, each sound punching Amanda in the gut.

Amanda squeezed her hands together, focusing on the pressure to distract her from the tears welling in her eyes.

We invite others to give their feedback. The board secretary’s voice sounded far away, along with everything else. Was she having a panic attack? That would be perfect. Just perfect.

Seth put his hands on top of hers, grounding her and reminding her to breathe. He smiled and stood. I have something to add.

Amanda couldn’t take her eyes off him.

With the microphone held loosely in his hand, he smiled again. Hi, my name is Mr. Sparks. I’m the honors math teacher. I’m also a volunteer firefighter, and some of you might know me as Mr. November from the Utah firefighters’ calendar where we raised over five thousand dollars to donate to the Huntsman Cancer Institute. A few catcalls broke through the silence of the room. Seth chuckled.

Amanda could swear her brain liquified. Her very active imagination already supplied plenty of tempting images of this man, but nothing could’ve prepared her for a firefighter theme. Had he posed shirtless with a friendly Dalmatian? Holding a huge hose? She bet he wore nothing but those over-sized boots, covering the delicate bits with his helmet. The hero of her next novel would be dressed just like that, but instead of putting out the fire, he would start one. Would it be untoward to pull her phone out and find a copy of the calendar? For research, obviously. Probably best to focus.

I’ve had the privilege to work with Ms. Mai for the last three months. In all that time, she has been nothing but professional. Her students love her, and from what I’ve seen, she’s an exemplary teacher. He paused long enough to look around the room slowly. Watching this community come after her like some modern-day witch hunt has been disheartening. And I know I speak for all the teachers in the room when I say we stand with Amanda.

Chairs creaked as every one of Amanda’s co-workers stood. They made up more than half of the audience.

I stand with Amanda, the art teacher said, beaming.

One after another, her co-workers spoke. Their voices overlapped, creating a chorus of, I stand with Amanda.

Tears fell freely down Amanda’s cheeks.

Taylor stomped to the front of the room and snatched the microphone from Seth. "She writes pornography. She whispered the last word like it was a secret. How long will it be before she acts out one of her smutty scenes with one of our husbands?"

Without much effort, Seth took the mic back from her. What’s the expression about pots and kettles?

Taylor scoffed. What are you talking about?

What Mrs. Christensen doesn’t seem to remember is the night of the firefighters’ gala last spring. As Seth spoke, Taylor froze, her eyes going wide. "Where my friends Mike and Daniel, Mr. April and Mr. August respectively, were both groped by her and told that if they didn’t want to be touched, they shouldn’t be showing off all that muscle." Seth said the last few words in a nasal voice that sounded an awful lot like Taylor Christensen.

One of the women in the front row slapped her leg and laughed. I remember that night. You were so drunk, Taylor!

Shut up, Lisa, Taylor hissed, her face turning beet red.

The only reason we didn’t press charges is because Mr. Christensen made a generous donation right before he took his wife home. Seth smiled broadly. In the spirit of putting our fundraiser first, we agreed, didn’t we?

Two big guys in the back of the room stood. One of them said, Anything for the cause.

The fact is, no one in this room has a problem with a bunch of guys taking their clothes off to pose for a calendar, but for some reason, it’s a problem for a woman to write a book about sex between consenting adults. That doesn’t add up. And I’m a math teacher, so I know what I’m talking about. More laughter eased the tension out of the room. Are there any other comments about my co-worker? After a full minute of silence, he added, Didn’t think so. He placed the microphone back in the stand and sat next to Amanda.

The five board members whispered for a minute before the president stood. In light of… everything. He glanced at Taylor, who had melted into her chair. We would like to apologize to Ms. Mai for any pain she might have endured from this ordeal. This meeting is now adjourned.

Amanda squeezed Seth’s hand and