“Will you be our chaperone on our field trip?” she asked sweetly. “We’re going to a state masonry competition in Fayetteville and we need a lady to go with us since it’s for two nights.”

I’d never been to Fayetteville. I’d never been to a masonry competition. I’d never chaperoned an overnight field trip. So yeah, count me in!

The next week all of us were off. Six boys,four girls, and the masonry teacher packed into a white van heading down 95 south. The kids were talking and laughing and I was getting to know Mr. Williams a little better. We worked at the same place, but I’d only said hi to him in the hallways. He was telling me that when we got to the hotel, I’d have my own room and I didn’t have to go to any of the competitions, but just hang around at night and take the kids to the mall if they wanted to go. Sounded more than reasonable to me. Then we got to the hotel.

Mr. Williams asked me to stay with the kids as he checked us all in, so I did. When he made his way back through the masses of teenagers that had swarmed the hotel, he told everyone to head on down the hall to their rooms. As we walked, I asked him if I could have my room key.

“Oh yeah, there’s been a mistake. Your room was given away so you’ll have to share a room with me.” Oh sweet mercy, this is not happening! I would have to share a room with a 50 year old married man. “Um, okay,” I said hesitatingly. I walked into the room and exhaled as I saw two double beds. Well, at least I wouldn’t have to share a bed with the old coot. After a while, his buddy (another teacher) came into our room with a brown bag. He proceeded to give Mr. Williams a drink of Hennessy and had one himself. I declined. The kids came by the room and asked if I’d take them to the mall. I was out the door in an instant!

When we were on our way back to the hotel after a couple of hours hanging out at the mall one of the kids said, “Yeah, Mr. Williams was real happy that you said you’d come with us. He said that he thought you’d like to party.” “Yeah, I’m chaperoning a field trip with teenagers, partying is the last thing I need to be doing,” I replied. Another girl chimed in, “Well, you know why he wanted us to ask you to go, right? He thinks he’s gonna get some from you later on. His friend that was supposed to room with him took your room to make it easier.” Glad I had such a stellar reputation. I knew that I had to get out of that room. Quickly.

I went to the front desk when we got back and asked if they had any rooms available. Nope. So I flew to the nearest pay phone in the lobby and frantically started looking for hotels in the yellow pages. I called every single one of them. No rooms at any inn. With the competition being one for the state, all of the hotels were booked. I slunk back to my room and prepared for the night.

Mr. Williams was a little looped when I got to the room and his friend was hanging around, but left soon after I came back. I said I was going to bed and went into the bathroom to change. Luckily, I was in my flannel phase and not in the hot sexy lingerie one, so that made things a bit easier. I crawled into my bed and he was already in his. I tucked the sheets and blanket tightly around me, like that was going to keep him away if he wanted some. Ten minutes or so passed and then I heard from the darkness, “Ooooo, my back is killin’ me! I sure could use a back rub.” Sweet merifcul banana biscuits, I needed a plan and fast! So I did what any self-respecting gal would’ve done: I made snoring sounds and ignored him. “You awake over there?” he asked. More snoring and a grunt.

The next day I went took the kids to the competition and stayed as far away from Williams as I could. That night it was the same deal. I was snug (sleeping with one eye open) in the bed and he was across the way asking for a rub down. More snoring. At 1:20 a.m. the phone rang. I answered and it was a lady from another hotel. Two of our girls had crept out and were partying with some guys from another school. Salvation!!!!! I went and picked them up, lectured them about the dangers of doing something like that, and insisted to Mr. Williams that I needed to sleep in the girls’ room in case they tried to do it again.  “But they don’t have an open bed,” he replied. “I’ll sleep on the floor,” I muttered. So I did. No blanket, no pillow, just me and some carpet.

The next morning, I went back into the den of sin and gathered my things. Williams had left a present for me: a license plate that said “BRICK. It’s harder than you think.” I put it in my bag and was happy that bricks were the only things that got laid on that trip.