“Oh, Mirage Springs isn’t in Las Vegas,” the recruiter in a shimmering business suit informed him with a lean across the job fair table. “Though it’s certainly nearby. Are you graduating this semester?”
“Yes, oh yes. Well, not officially until September at least, though I’m walking across the stage next week, and just a few classes I have to take through June, ‘cause I had to transfer Freshman year and I had to leave the last place, Adams College, all of a sudden--”
“Mirage Springs is eager to hire new teachers from the class of ninety-seven,” name-tagged Nancy replied, ignoring the explanatory soliloquy and stuffing a glossy folder in the prospect’s hands. “What’s your name, by the way?”
“Bacon. Henry Bacon.” Henry shook a lotion-smooth hand.
“Oh yes, Bacon. We’ve been waiting for you.”
Pause. “You have?”
“Oh yes.” Nancy smiled and handed him a second, different, folder as she pulled the first out of his hands. “We asked your school about exceptional seniors, and your name was near the top of the list.”
“My name?” Henry stared down at the glossy image of a fresh new high school set against the backdrop of a desert mountain range.
“Definitely. We’re interested in having only the most-qualified candidates teach in our school system. Construction of Mirage Springs High has just been completed, and we’re opening it in the fall. We’d be willing to cover your relocation expenses and certification tuition and pay you a stipend until you obtain your certificate.”
Henry opened the folder to a sheet of paper addressed to himself which listed all of the incentives. “This is pretty unusual recruiting for a schoolteacher--”
“Mirage Springs is growing by leaps and bounds, and we’ll need all the
qualified teachers we can get,” Nancy concluded with unfazed perkiness. Then, to
a classmate of Henry’s behind his back, “Hi! Are you interested in becoming a