Chapter 152: Parent-Teacher Conference for Carl
Saul was truly efficient. In just one day, he'd secured all the store locations Ron had requested, and Ron was still sleeping with Caroline in his arms.
For a man who'd worked all night, sleeping until ten in the morning was perfectly normal.
Just as Ron hung up on Saul and was about to go back to sleep or do something else, his phone rang again. He glanced at the contact, and it was another woman Ron couldn't refuse.
For the first time, Ron felt like his romantic obligations were getting a bit too complicated.
"What's up, Fiona?" Ron got dressed and left the room.
"Ron, can you go to the school for me? Carl's in trouble again. He beat up some classmates, and the school's called for his parents, but his dad still hasn't been found. You know, I'm not even sure if he's alive out there somewhere."
Fiona's voice sounded exhausted, and Ron couldn't help but feel sorry for her and wanted to share some of the burden. But no matter what, she refused to accept Ron's money or the respectable job he offered her.
The reason was her desire to maintain her independence in front of Ron—such a sweet and stubborn reason.
So, Ron did his best to work through Uncle Tommy, and arranged for her troublemaking father—a deadbeat whose only talent was stirring up trouble—to work at a rehabilitation ranch.
The workday was 10 hours, and there was no pay, but three meals were guaranteed. If he could kick his addiction there, perhaps he could live a few more years.
Ron felt this was the best he could do for that old piece of trash.
"I assume you're still working, right? Where is it? McDonald's or Burger King? I told you a long time ago that you should quit that job. I can find you something better—less exhausting and better pay."
"Neither. It's at Tommy's Chicken Shack," Fiona said cheerfully. "Don't worry, I'll quit after this month. At least let me collect this month's paycheck."
How had Fiona ended up working for Uncle Tommy? Ron thought this might not be ideal, but then he realized that Uncle Tommy also ran some legitimate businesses, so he gave up the idea of trying to persuade her to quit immediately.
"Okay, where's the school? I'll be there right now." Ron, figuring he had nothing else pressing, agreed.
"Really? I'm so grateful you're doing this. You don't know—Carl has always looked up to you. His previous dream was to be a cop, but since meeting you, his dream has been to become a federal agent like you..."
Less than an hour later, Ron appeared at the gate of Carl's school. It was a public school, known for reasonable tuition and decent teaching quality. While it couldn't compare to private academies, it was definitely one of the better public schools in the district.
Ron explained his purpose and was escorted to the principal's office without any delay. Already in the room were four bruised and battered children and their parents.
To Ron's surprise, he ran into someone he knew.
"Tucker, I didn't expect to see you here. Is this your kid? Where's he hurt?"
Ron looked down. A child slightly shorter than the others standing behind Tucker caught his eye. This child's injuries weren't as obvious as the rest.
"Here." Tucker pushed back the kid's bangs, revealing a noticeable bruise on his forehead. "Well, actually, Carl didn't do this on purpose. He wasn't even fighting with anyone. He just got knocked over in the chaos."
"Hey, you really should teach him some self-defense when you get the chance." Ron frowned. He could tell Carl was being set up by someone, because the principal had already decided to blame the innocent victim.
But it was clearly a case of multiple aggressors against one, yet the principal hadn't mentioned that detail.
"Let me interrupt these pleasantries. Perhaps you should take your seat. We didn't call you here today to catch up, Mr. Gallagher!"
The principal, a stern-faced woman whose expression could curdle milk, led Carl into the office. They took seats directly across from the conference table, by the window, facing all the other children and parents.
If Ron didn't understand what she was trying to pull, then all his years as an agent would have been wasted.
Ron didn't bother correcting the principal's assumption about his last name. Instead, he guided Carl to sit where the principal had indicated. He wanted to see what these people were planning.
"Let me be direct. Your son Carl's behavior is the worst I've ever encountered in this school, and I've been an educator here for quite some time."
"Should I call you Dad now?" Carl whispered, secretly nudging Ron.
Ron rolled his eyes. "Sit still!"
He continued listening to what the principal was about to say.
"He's intimidating these students, making them too afraid to come forward and report incidents. School shouldn't be a place of fear—it should be a place of learning. How can children learn in an environment of terror?"
"Absolutely right!" a parent of one of the African American children chimed in.
"She's asking me, genius." Ron glared at him fiercely, and he immediately shut up. Carl secretly gave him a thumbs-up under the table.
"There's only one way to make Carl understand his mistake, and that's to make him face it and apologize for what he's done."
The principal made her final pronouncement, and Ron knew that was supposed to be the end of it. The other parents and children beamed with satisfaction, as if they had won some great victory.
Ron crossed his arms and looked around. With the exception of Tucker's kid, every other child looked significantly stronger than Carl.
Ron didn't know how Carl had managed to win, but he was convinced that, under normal circumstances, no one would challenge several opponents who were clearly much stronger when they were at a complete disadvantage.
He felt there had to be more behind this fight. Considering the resentment in Carl's eyes when he walked in, and the barely concealed smugness on the faces of the other children, Ron had a theory.
Ron rudely propped his elbow on the table. "So, what exactly do you want me to do?"
"He should apologize to every child here, honestly and sincerely..."
It was the same African American parent who had interrupted earlier. Ron cut him off rudely, "Don't be so hypocritical. Bullying is an important part of the school ecosystem. It teaches these kids how to rise from adversity."
"The world out there is brutal. Bullying is like a vaccination. You little punks need to learn to stay away from my son. A punch in the face is lesson enough."
"I guarantee that by the time your son is thirty, he'll be surrounded by beautiful women, while my son will be wearing an orange jumpsuit and collecting cans on the street before he's thirty..."
The more Ron spoke, the more smug the faces of the surrounding parents became. They almost felt ready to forgive Carl, but under the table, Carl had already clenched his fists.
Tucker's child opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but was immediately glared at by a bigger kid and lowered his head.
Ron could see this was a good kid, just not tough enough. Perhaps Tucker should work on building his confidence in the future. At the very least, he should make this child more assertive.
Seeing everyone relax, Ron smiled mockingly: "Did you think I would actually say that? You're all a bunch of spineless, pathetic people!"
"Mr. Gallagher, we called you here today to discuss your attitude. Otherwise, you know I have the authority to suspend Carl indefinitely!" The female principal was so angry she was trembling.
Ron calmly leaned back in his chair. "Come on, you morons, don't you have eyes? Can't you use your damn brains? All you kids, stand up!"
Ron suddenly roared, startling the children so much they jumped to their feet. Ron stood up, satisfied, and gently held Tucker's son down first. "You don't have to."
"Look at this!" Ron slammed the table. "My son Carl is nearly the smallest of all the kids involved in this fight!"
"So what?" the African American parent muttered. Ron could tell this guy was definitely the ringleader.
Perhaps he knew about the Gallagher family's situation, felt untouchable, and rallied other parents to pressure the school, leading to the current setup.
"Stand up!" Ron snapped at the African American parent in front of him. The battle-hardened, almost tangible aura of menace washed over him. The parent nearly wet himself and immediately stood up, letting Ron do whatever he wanted.
Ron approached the parent, towering almost a full head taller, his muscular build incomparable. This was all thanks to Ron's relentless training regimen, no matter how exhausting, whenever he wasn't on assignment.
He looked down at the trembling parent, "Look, I'm taller and stronger than you right now. Do you feel like taking a swing at me?"
The parent silently stepped back, not daring to speak.
As if not satisfied, Ron gave the parent a hard shove to the chest. "Look, I'm bullying you right now. Why aren't you fighting back? Fight back, you coward!" Ron's sudden aggression startled the principal and the other parents.
They sat frozen in their seats, especially the other parents who had allied with the ringleader—their heads bowed like frightened quails, afraid to meet Ron's fierce gaze.
"Fight back, you piece of trash!" Ron shoved again, nearly knocking the parent to his knees. "Speak up! Why didn't you fight back?!"
"I was scared! I couldn't take you!" The parent, cornered against the wall, could only scream desperately, trying to get Ron to back off. He was now filled with regret.
Wasn't it supposed to be that Carl's punk family had no adults, just a bunch of kids running things? Where did this badass come from?!
Ron grabbed the parent by the collar and threw him back into his seat, addressing the room: "Look at this!"
"Even this idiot knows not to fight someone stronger than you, or you'll only get hurt worse!" Ron pulled Carl to his side. "So what makes you think my son would go after several taller, stronger kids all by himself? And call that bullying?"
Everyone fell silent. The principal's expression was priceless, but Ron was in no mood to deal with this corrupt woman. He pressed on.
"Why isn't anyone talking? Speak up!" Ron circled the room, each person's heart racing as he passed behind them.
"Tell me, what reason would a child have to attack several taller and stronger kids at once, supposedly bullying an entire group all by himself? My God, can anyone tell me how he managed that?"
Tucker had been watching from the beginning, arms crossed. This conflict had nothing to do with him, but now his thoughts were the same as everyone else's:
Of course, he did it the same way you're doing it right now! You're bullying this entire room single-handedly!
"I'm sorry, Mr. Gallagher," the principal said, softening her tone, trying to smooth things over. Her about-face was so swift that even France during World War II would have been impressed.
"I think there might be some misunderstanding here, and I failed to notice these details in my initial assessment. I'm willing to re-investigate this matter and provide you with a reasonable explanation."
Carl looked up. Ron's image in his eyes had been elevated again, as if gilded with pure gold!
He had assumed he'd have to apologize again and let the matter slide today. It had always been this way, something he'd grown used to. He'd never imagined that justice would actually be served.
And this person was his hero! Carl felt his admiration for Ron deepen even more.
"A misunderstanding?" Ron continued his sarcastic assault. "Because of a 'misunderstanding,' you allow a group of kids to gang up on another child and then use your authority to inflict additional punishment on the victim?"
"Ma'am, I think you've overstepped your bounds. Perhaps my attorney should know how to file suit against you."
An attorney? Come on! With the Gallaghers' limited resources, how could they afford one? Everyone wondered, but intimidated by Ron's presence, no one dared voice their doubts.
But as some began to discreetly examine Ron's attire, they realized that neither the tailored suit nor the Rolex on his wrist was something ordinary people could afford!
It could be said that any single item Ron was wearing could buy them an entire wardrobe!
The principal was genuinely panicked now. She had dealt with influential people before and knew this was not someone she could afford to cross. "Don't call a lawyer! Please, please give me another chance. I promise to provide you with a satisfactory resolution."
"Oh? Really?" Ron returned to his seat, crossed his arms, and looked like he was interrogating a room full of suspects single-handedly. "It just so happens I'm not busy today. I'll sit right here and wait for your answer."
(End of chapter)
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