People don’t tap their watches anymore; have you noticed? Standard wristwatches, I’m talking about. Remember how people used to tap them?
My father, for instance. His watch was a Timex with a face as big as a fifty-cent piece, and whenever my mother kept him waiting he would frown down at it and give it a tap. Implying, I suppose now, “Can this possibly be correct? Could it really be this late?” But when I was a little girl, I imagined he was trying to make time move faster, to bring my mother before us instantly, already wearing her coat, like someone in a speeded up movie.
What reminded me of this recently was that Marilee Burton, the headmistress at the school where I worked, called me into her office one Friday morning as I was walking past. “Come chat for a moment, why don’t you?” she said. This was not a regular occurrence. (We were on more or less formal terms.) She waved toward the Windsor chair facing her desk, but I stayed in the doorway and cocked my head at her. “I thought I should let you know,” she said, “I won’t be coming in on Monday. I have to have a cardioversion.”
“A what?” I asked.
“A procedure for my heart. It’s been beating wrong.”
“Oh,” I said. I couldn’t pretend to be surprised. She was one of those ladylike women who wear heels on all occasions, the perfect candidate for heart issues. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” I told her.
“They’re giving it an electrical jolt that will stop it and then start it again.”
“Huh,” I said. “Like tapping a watch.”
“Pardon?”
“Is it dangerous?” I asked.
“No, no,” she said. “I’ve had it done once before, in fact. But that was over spring break, so I didn’t see the need to announce it.”
“Okay,” I said. “And how long will you be out of the office?”
“I’ll be back on Tuesday, good as new. No need to alter your routine in the slightest. However,” she said, and then she sat straighter behind her desk; she cleared her throat; she briskly aligned a stack of papers that didn’t need aligning. “However, it brings me to a subject I’ve been meaning to discuss with you.”
I stood a bit straighter myself. I am very alert to people’s tones of voice.
“I’ll be sixty-six years old on my next birthday,” she said, “and Ralph just turned sixty-eight. He’s starting to talk about traveling a bit, and seeing more of the grandchildren.”
“Really.”
“So I’m thinking of handing in my resignation before the new school year begins.”
The new school year would begin in September. We were already in late June.
I said, “So … does this mean I’ll take over as headmistress?”