Karl

When I was a janitor, some people looked at me and saw a janitor. And some people looked at me and saw a person. This story is dedicated to them.

Karl tied the plastic black bag in a knot and then carefully put it around the lip of the barrel.  His barrel — it was gray, and on the handle hung a feather duster, extra bags, a rag and a spray bottle of window cleaner.  The bell rang and high school students started pouring out of their classrooms. As they headed home, Karl headed to work.

Occasionally a kid would throw a piece of paper in his barrel or bump into him accidentally. But for the most part, no one spoke to Karl. He was just an old man pushing an old barrel.  Karl was invisible.

Karl didn’t mind.  He was just glad he had some place to go every night. Richard M. Nixon High School was Karl’s home away from home.

Karl had ten classrooms and a hallway to clean. On that hallway were two bathrooms. And every Friday night, he helped buff the cafeteria.  It wasn’t a complicated schedule  — Karl did his job well.  He pushed his barrel into the first classroom.  The silver-haired lady did not look up from her grade book. “You need to do a better job with the chalk tray,” she said in a terse way. Karl emptied her trash, smiled and said, “Yes ma’am.”  The lady looked up at the janitor and then back at her book without a sound.

The next room there was a balding man who taught math.  “You forgot a piece of paper on the floor last night.  You want me to report you?”  Karl looked at him and meekly said, “No, sir.”

The students had long since left the building by the time Karl got to his last room.  In there was a young teacher who had her head down in her arms. When Karl stopped pushing his barrel, he heard a muffled sobbing sound.  He loudly cleared his throat, partly just wanting her to stop. Crying made him uncomfortable.

“Oh. I’m sorry you saw this,” the young teacher said while wiping her eyes.

“No problem, ma’am.  My secret.”  They were more words than Karl had said to anyone in the school in a year.

The teacher looked at Karl and unloaded her soul on him. “I’m just not cut out for this.  The kids don’t listen. I’m a failure. No one likes me!”

Karl laughed, causing the teacher’s eyebrows to drop under her nose. He then said, “You’re not a failure.  You’ll be back tomorrow. A failure would quit. You’re not a quitter. So you’re not a failure.”

He emptied the trash, wiped the chalk tray and headed out the door. “I believe in you.  Of course, I’m just a janitor.”

The teacher wiped her eyes and stared at the old man as he pushed his barrel toward the custodian closet.  Who was he?

Day after day, Karl looked forward to room 210.  Everyday she would be in there working. Everyday they’d discuss some part of life.  One day, she asked, “Why are you a janitor? ” Karl just smiled and said, “Enough about me, tell me about your day.”

Karl was invisible — except to one young teacher in the 200 hall.

One day during his dinner break, a light knock startled the other custodians. Karl got up slowly and walked over to the door and opened it.  It was his teacher. “I brought you dinner.” She held a complete turkey dinner.

Karl’s eyes twinkled.  “Thank you. It’s the first home cooked meal I’ve had in years.”

The other custodians whistled and taunted, “Karl’s got a girlfriend! Karl’s got a girlfriend!”  Karl smiled and took a big bite of delicious turkey.

As the year passed, the young teacher gained confidence. Soon Karl overheard the students in the hall talking about her. They said how much they loved how she taught. How much they liked her. And how much they loved her class.

Karl smiled a knowing smile.

On the last day of school, the young teacher waited for Karl to come into the room.  She had a small present, wrapped in foil paper and a bright red ribbon. But Karl never came.  She scratched her head and headed down to the theater for the end of the year faculty meeting.

The principal got up, cleared his throat and said, “I hate to start out on a sad note, but we lost one of our own last night. Karl the night janitor passed away in his sleep.  I’d like to have a moment of silence in his honor.”

Only one person really knew who he was. Only one person sobbed uncontrollably.

The silence and sobbing was interrupted by a door in the back of the theater opening.  A man with an expensive suit and a manilla envelope walked into the room.  He paused halfway down the aisle and spoke:  “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’m looking for a Emily Rae Smith.”

The young teacher blew her nose, raised her hand like a schoolgirl and said sadly, “That’s me.”

The lawyer walked over to her and pulled a letter out of the envelope and started to read.

“My dear Emily Rae,

Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven. But in the meantime, this will make your life on earth much easier. Thank you for your friendship.  Thank you for noticing me.

Karl

Emily Rae pulled out two more pieces of paper. One was a cashier’s check for $20 million. The other was a newspaper clipping that read, “Local man invents amazing new adhesive.”  Karl Matthew had been a successful chemist who held dozens of patents. When his wife died, he got sick of sitting alone in their empty mansion. So he took a job as a night janitor.  Every night he came to the school to be around people.  And since he had no living relatives, Emily Rae became the family he no longer had.

“You’ve inherited it all young lady,” the lawyer continued. “Congratulations. Karl thought the world of you. He said you were the best teacher he had ever seen.”

Emily Rae sat there stunned looking at the check. The rest of the teachers sat there even more stunned and just stared at her. And on that day at Richard M. Nixon High School, the invisible janitor became a legend.