The school was Ocean Apple elementary and in that school was a man. This man is a master of the English language. His diction is urbane and his syntax, flawless. Who is he? Who is this manipulator of the English language, this being that has ink coursing through his veins? William Burke Jr., the janitor. But he prefers to use his official title, sanitation engineer.
This doesn’t always work out with the ladies though.
“So what do you do?”
“I’m am engineer.”
“An engineer! Oh, what type?”
“Sanitation.”
“Sanitation? Wait. A janitor? You mean you clean the toilets?”
“I clean them with efficiency. And- where are you going?”
The only woman William has is Anne Chen, a second grade teacher at Ocean Apple. This friendship began when Will told Anne that her compulsive need to dress like she is from the 1920’s reminded him of Jordan Baker.
Like Will, Anne is an English buff. Story time starts school days off and poetry readings ended them. Knowing her routine, William put in an application to clean the wing her classroom is in. Each morning he swept the hallway, listening for the classics she would read. At the end of the day he cleans her door window as Burns, Wilde and Rimbaud were recited.
Anne knew that the kids can’t fully appreciate their words, but wasting time by reading her favorite poets was a great way to wait for ten-year to kick in. Plus, she knew Will listens in, so the poetry was a gift for him also. This made him love her.

Part I: The Problem
“Ms. Chen, Ms. Chen!” The boy was pulling on her pearl clad wrist.
“Yes, Muhammad?”
“You know how I went to the bathroom?”
Anne crouches down to his level. Her pearl necklace hits the carpet floor. “Yes. What’s wrong?”
“Well I went pee, and I saw Mr. Burke writing on some toilet paper in the bathroom. He was crying and patted my head and said ‘Stay in school’. He gave it to me. But then my nose was runny so I wiped my nose on the toilet paper he wrote on and left. I heard him crying when I left.”
Will shouldn’t be doing this. After his last evaluation the principal, Dr. Green, told the staff to report Will of any of them catch him giving students poems.
“He is the sanitation engineer! A janitor. Nothing more and there is nothing less” were her exact words. But Will and Anne are a team.
“Okay, hun. Thank you for telling me. This will be our secret.”
The boy nodded and pulled the tissue out. It was folded into a square with blue ink smudges.
“Here Ms. Chen”, he handed her the tissue,”I blew my nose on it careful because it seemed special. You can still read it.”
She shot him a smile and sent him on his way.
“Class we have ten minutes before the day is over. So it’s time for our poem.”
Anne walks over to the wooden bookshelf her and Will up and searched for a fitting poet only to be startled by a tap on the door window. There she saw a piece of tissue paper with the name ROBERT BURNS written in Will’s scrawl. She smirks and taps the glass window twice.
“Okay kids, tomorrow is the beginning of your winter break. You’ll be gone until New Years, so in light of that”, she gathers the students on the rug in front of her,”I have Auld Lang Syne by Robert Burns”
“Ms. Chen I-”
“Muhammad, I don’t want to speak over you. What’s important?”
“Our secret is outside shaking his fist and crying.”
“For the love of- I’m going to play the tape.”
Anne fumbles for the caste in her desk, pops it in the stereo and runs outside.
“William, what was that?” He is leaning against the wall with a rag in his hand.
“Anne, I could have been a teacher. A poet. Don’t you see I was meant to be something. I was meant to earn my money with a pen, not this thing.” He throughs the rag agains the wall across from them. Anne sits on the floor next to him.
“You have a passion, as do I. But you don’t see me running around with toilet paper poems, kissing kids’ heads, and telling them to stay in school.”
“I never kissed a -”
“I could be fired trying to save you”
“And I never asked you to. Look, you are already where you want to be. A teacher. Me? I’ m being held back. Stuck.”
The bell rings and the hallway is soon filled with children running home and jumping over Will and Anne’s outstretched legs.
“William you were crying outside my class. Crying. You’re a grown man. Pull it it together.”
She watches his face crumble as he stares at the wall in front of them.
“Sorry. Just- sorry. Lunch on me? Think of it as an apology.”

Part II: A Poetic Cuban Crisis
Will and Anne lived in the same apartment building. She lived in 22B and he in 1B. This fuel long conversations about Sherlock Holmes and Benedict Cumberbatch.
Anne carries Italian leftovers in as Will follows her into the apartment.
“Sorry for that thing at school today. I just want the both of us to keep our jobs.”
“It’s okay. I should keep low anyway. Last thing I want is for us to get fired.” He sits on her sofa,” Just think of it: Manic poetic janitor and his jazzy accomplice fired after pelting kids with poems.”
She flops down next to him, toeing her shoes off. “No, it’s manic poetic sanitation engineer. But, Will, seriously, why were you crying?”
He tells her about his family. Will is from Cuba. His mother met a reporter, William Burke Sr., who was doing a piece on the nation. After Will was born, he left to head back to New York. Growing up he alway had a passion and by twenty-seven he managed to get a masters degree in English. That same time of year, his mother died. He decided to travel to the States in order to find his father. Being lucky enough to hitch a ride on a small dingy headed to Miami he left. From Miami he rode bus after bus to New York, but never found his father.
In American any degree or credentials that you acquired in other counties are deemed invalid. So, William’s masters degree was worthless and he could only bum around doing meaningless jobs.
“Why can’t you go back to school,” asked Anne.
“I don’t have the money.”
At this point all Anne could respond with was, “Oh, Billy.”

Part III: The Resolution
After William told Anne about his past he spent most of his break writing. He has tried to get things published but nothing works out.
As Will was finishing up his last poem he heard a knock at the door. He cracks it open to only have an excited Anne in.
“Good, okay. I need all of your poems copied. Okay? This, William is an ultimatum of sorts. If you don’t want to give them to me, I’ll report you to Dr. Green. You’ve got 10 minutes.” She throws a cardboard box in the middle of the room and skips back out the door.
“God, she’s dramatic.”
It’s been two weeks since he has given Anne all 127 of his poems. And it has been for one week that little Muhammad has been waving at him constantly.
“Where are they?” Will is yelling in her empty classroom.
“I sent them to different publishers. 127 poems to 127 different publisher.”
William can’t move from the desk he is sitting on. Anne smirks and leaves the room, “Check your mail.”
The perturbed William comes to his senses and runs to the post office from across the school.
“Mr. Burke, you have a lot of mail. It’s here in this bin.” The mail woman is the same person who walked out on William during their date. He quickly flips threw them and all the envelopes have addresses of publishers.

It is the end of the school day at Ocean Apple elementary school.
“Class, I have a special guest reader today. This will have to be our secret, okay class?”
“Yes, Ms. Chen.” Sometimes being in charge of small children has perks.
Anne walks over to the door and grabs the sweeping William inside.
“Today, Mr. Burke is going to read his own poem.”
“But Ms. Chen-”, Muhammad interrupts.
She purses her lips and raises her eyebrows in a warning, “Class secret.”
“Here Mr. Burke, read.”
William is bouncing on his toes, “We are going to get fired” he says in a sing-song voice.
“Just read the stupid thing,” Anne sings back.

And this made William love Anne even more.