Patrick Chapel sat behind his desk in his room in B Hall in the high school. He checked his watch. Right on schedule there was a knock on the door.
“Come on in.”
The custodian stuck his head around the door. “Excuse me, Mr. Chapel. ‘Zit okay if I do your room now?”
“Sure come on in, Ray, just finishing up a few papers that need grading.”
The young black man came in and began the task of cleaning Mr. Chapel’s classroom. Patrick Chapel never took his eyes off him. He watched the man move around with athletic grace; his well formed muscles rippled under his tight T-shirt. Every now and then Patrick tried to engage him in casual conversation. The young man usually just answered in monosyllables, apparently too shy to say more.
Patrick admired the firm, round, full butt as Ray walked up
