Because of a heavy early snowfall in November, which had canceled classes for nearly a week, the pre-Christmas vacation had been shortened by two days, which meant that classes seemed to drag on interminably. If the kids didn’t like this state of affairs, Roy Hanson liked it even less. Getting their attention was difficult enough under the best of circumstances; breaking through the wall of lethargy so close to Christmas was another definition of impossible. Still, one had to try. That was part of the challenge of teaching, and if there was one thing Roy Hanson liked, it was a challenge. The first black instructor at an exclusive private school in the county, he had left there three years ago to become only the second black teacher in Kingston Falls. Now, at thirty-four, he was recognized as one of the best biology and natural science instructors in the area. Tall and stockily built, he was a teacher with whom few students messed. Corporal punishment in the public schools was a thing of the past, of course, but at times Hanson could be so aroused by an uncooperative student that some wondered if there might not be a one-day revival.
