Chapter 3
The following day Jesse Solomani did not appear at school. The normal procedure, if a student did not attend school, was to telephone the child’s parents, but in the case of Jesse Solomani, they did not do that this time because his departure the previous day was the talk of the school. The consensus was that his parents would be keeping him at home.
At about 3 pm. a Police patrol car arrived at Shakleton College. A uniformed Sergeant and Constable went into the Administrative offices. Following a short conversation with Mr. Jackson, the Principal, Mr. Joseph Palmer was sent for. Palmer walked into Jackson’s office. He found Jackson sitting behind his desk and two Policemen to one side of it.
"What’s this," he asked Mr. Jackson. "Is there a problem?"
"I don’t think so," reassured Mr. Jackson. "It is just that these two officers would like a word with you."
"With me?" asked Palmer turning towards the Policemen.
The Sergeant stood up.
"Mr. Palmer, I am Sergeant Johns and this is Constable Nix. We would like to have a word with you concerning Jesse Solomani."
Palmer sat down on an empty chair, and with a questioning look at his Principal said, "Of course. How can I help? He’s not in any trouble is he? Like, he’s such a quiet thing normally that I just cannot see him causing you people any problems."
"He is dead Mr. Palmer," said Sergeant Johns resuming his seat.
"Dead? What do you mean dead? He was here yesterday," said Palmer.
"He killed himself Sir," said Constable Nix. "Hanged himself in his parent's garage."
"Whatever for?" asked Palmer. "I mean, why? When did this happen?"
"This morning," said Constable Nix. "As far as his parents were concerned he had left for school. That was at about 7.45am. At 9am. Mr. Solomani went to get the car out of the garage and found his son hanging from a rafter."
"Oh my dear God," said Palmer feeling quite sick and faint. "Why? Do you know why? Like, did he not tell anyone? No of course not. What an idiot thing to say. You don’t tell anyone when you are going to kill yourself do you?"
"He did leave a note Sir," said Sergeant Johns. "They don’t always but this kid did. It’s always a little sad when kids do it but they have so many pressures upon them these days. Not like in my time."
"What did the note say?" asked Palmer, "That is if you are allowed to say."
"Oh, yes we can tell you," nodded the Sergeant. "Just before that though, we understand he got a little upset over something that happened in your class yesterday afternoon. Would you care to tell us about that Sir?"
"My God, gasped Palmer, "Don't tell me he killed himself over that."
"Just tell us what happened please Sir," repeated the Sergeant.
"Well, very little Sergeant," said a shaken Joe Palmer. "We, that is, the class, were looking at evolution. I was explaining how life had evolved over millions of years from a single cell to what we have today. Solomon took exception to what I was saying and called me a liar. I pointed out certain scientific facts to him. The class agreed with me and let Solomani know it. He was obviously upset and left the class. I haven't seen him since."
"And do you think he would have been upset enough with you to kill himself?" asked Johns.
"I doubt it. He was just reiterating what he had been told by his parents and Church. We get that all the time from Church people. If anything, he was probably terrified of his father. Once he discovered the truth of evolution he would have confronted his father and was probably scared of that."
"And what was Solomani's belief that it differed from yours?" queried Nix.
"He believed something that a bunch of desert nomads believed thousands of years ago; that God made all that we are, and have, in seven days. Can you believe that in the face of all the scientific data? Let's face it, I have an M.A. and a Master of Science degree. They do not come off the back of a cereal packet. Solomani has, I'm sorry, learnt his from a discredited book and a labourer father."
"Have you ever met Mr. Solomani?" asked Nix.
"Not so as to become involved in a conversation," replied Palmer. "I know the type though. All black and white. No grey. Bigoted."
"From personal experience I take it?" queried Nix.
"How very perceptive of you Mr. Nix," acknowledged Palmer. "Yes, from personal experience. I was brought up in such an atmosphere; an overbearing father, a submissive mother, Church, Church and more Church. Do not think. Do, do, and do. It was not until I was at university that I was able to expand my mind, and realise my possibilities. Indeed, Mr. Nix, from personal experience."
"And you don't believe your 'correction' of Jesse Solomani would have upset him enough for him to take his own life?"
"I doubt it. Even if it did then it is no fault of mine. I would place any external blame fairly and squarely upon the father. Solomani was a bright boy and his bigoted father would probably rather a dead child than one he would consider a blasphemer."
"Did you ever feel, as a child, that suicide would have been a way out of your father's dominance?" asked Johns.
"Never," stated Palmer. "Never crossed my mind." He stood up. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have students to attend too. Good day Gentlemen."
"Do you no longer want to know what young Solomani's note said?" asked Sergeant Johns.
Palmer sat down.
"I had forgotten I'm sorry. Of course. It had slipped my mind, what with the shock of the suicide and what I can only take as questions from you suggesting that I was somehow to blame."
Sergeant Johns turned to his Constable and nodded. Nix opened his notebook and commenced reading, glancing up at Palmer from time to time.
"The note said; 'Don't worry Mum and Dad, I love you both. I am sorry to upset you but I need to go to our Lord. Mr. Palmer is wrong. I will know this by the time you find me. Pray for him, and my heavenly father and I will touch him. Love you heaps, Jess.'"
A silence stretched out as Nix closed his notebook. Palmer's face lost all colour.
"I see," he eventually said, "If that is all, then good day once again."
He stood up and left the room.