December 8, 2007
page 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6
I had two classes that day, both in the afternoon. The first class was Early 20th-Century American Literature. As I walked into the classroom, several of the students participating in the usual pre-class chatter stopped talking, stared at me almost in sync, then turned away and resumed their chattering. As I walked to my desk, a few other students looked at me with blanker expressions that usual.
Usually the students there had no interest in me. They had to have heard, and believed, that I�d committed sexual assault. I�d had the feeling that bullshit story would spread around campus sooner or later. But who had started shoveling the bullshit�Lissi? Shaft? Detective Frazier?
I sat down at my desk. Mrs. Tibbetts, the instructor, was sitting at her desk in front, reading her copy of Return to Stonycreek Farm: Deluxe Leather-Bound Heirloom Edition. (The rest of us students had battered old paperback editions.) After about a minute, she inserted a bookmark into the book, laid the book down on her desk, and said �Gerald� above the classroom chatter.
�Gerald,� she said again a bit louder.
The chatter died down.
�May I see you outside for a moment, please, Gerald?�
She and I went out in the hall.
�So, Gerald�.I�ve heard some rumors about you.�
Pause. �What type of rumors, specifically?�
�Well, for starters, that you committed an illegal act against a particular female classmate�.Did you commit this act?�
�Of course not. I didn�t do anything to her.�
�I believe you. You seem like too much of a nice young gentleman to have treated her that way.�
�Thanks.�
�You�re welcome. As for your political views, well��
�My political views?�
�Aren�t you a Communist?�
�No, I�m not a Communist! Where�d you hear that?�
Mrs. Tibbetts just stood there.
�I�m not a Communist,� I said.
�I didn�t think you were a Communist,� she said. �It would have been unfortunate if you were, considering the Satanic source of that ideology, but I would have tolerated you as well as I could. This is America, and you can believe whatever you want politically. Anyway�several of my students have told me they feel uncomfortable having you in my classroom. I personally don�t object to your continued presence, but they�ve threatened to complain to the university board of directors, so��
�You�re kicking me out.�
�Sorry, dear. I wish I didn�t have to do this, but I need to maintain a stable learning environment. Based on how you�ve done so far in class, you deserve an A as your final grade, but if I gave you an A, that would probably cause more trouble. The best I can do is give you an incomplete. We can talk about changing your grade once your legal situation is rectified.�
�Uh-huh.�
�Well�I need to get back to class, so if there�s anything��
�Yes, one thing. We might not see each other again, so I might as well ask�do you really like the Stonycreek Farm books?�
Mrs. Tibbetts looked puzzled.
�Why, yes I do,� she said. �I assume you don�t?�
�I just can�t relate to them. I like modern times.�
�Huh. You seemed like a traditional-minded person, someone who could appreciate the timeless values of those books. I don�t mean to cast aspersions upon your moral character, dear. Maybe you just need time to appreciate the books. You should give them another try someday, years from now.�
I couldn�t even get into my other class that day, Nature of Light and Sound. The instructor, Mr. Keene, was standing outside the classroom door. �Wait, Gerald. I need to have a word with you.�
We stepped to the side.
�I�ve heard about what you allegedly did to that girl. The sexual assault?�
�I didn�t sexually assault her.�
�I didn�t think you did. Of course, you could be Jack the Ripper under that placid fa�ade, but I like to think I can judge people pretty well, and you seem like the type of guy who thinks with his big head and not with his little head, if you know what I mean�.The head of your penis?�
�I knew what you meant.�
�Great. And I don�t think you�re a Commie, either. I can spot a real Commie a mile away, maybe two miles. I fought in Korea to prevent the Red Menace from spreading to the free world. If you were a Commie, and we were in Korea during the war, well, they�d need a large sponge to absorb what would be left of you.�
�Uh-huh.� I couldn�t say everyone on campus was an anti-Communist fanatic, because I hadn�t met everyone on campus.
�But let�s get down to business�.A bunch of my students have threatened to have me tarred and feathered if you remain in my class. And they assure me they aren�t speaking metaphorically. Do you know what hot tar can do to your skin? You can get blisters the size of Cleveland, and I hate the Mistake by the Lake.�
Get to the part where you kick me out, buddy.
�So, I�m sorry, but I have to eject you from my class. You�ll get an incomplete as your final grade. Again, I�m sorry. And you seemed so receptive to my scientific teachings. I don�t think you really believe them just yet, but at least you�re receptive to them.�
�Well, I don�t really believe them, to be honest. But do you really believe them?�
�You know, if I had a nickel for every time someone has asked me that, I could afford that Clark bar I�ve always wanted, heh heh....Let�s put it this way. I believe enough of it, my quadraparticle theory, and so does the university. Otherwise, I wouldn�t have had the long, rewarding career I�ve had here. One where I can afford all the Clark bars I can eat, heh heh.�
A few minutes later, I was wandering across campus, trying hard not to think about anything, when I heard some guy shout �Hey!�
I kept walking.
�Hey, wait!� he shouted again. I turned and saw the guy running toward me. He ran up to me, panted for a few seconds, and asked �Are you that Gerald Blanchard dude?�
�Yes, I�m that Gerald Blanchard dude,� I said with no emotion.
�I thought so. I�m Randy McTeague.� He grabbed my hand and shook it. He wore brown-tinted sunglasses, blonde hair past his shoulders, and a white topcoat that had a Rocky Horror Picture Show button pinned to the lapel. �I live in the dorm, on the third floor? I know we�ve never met, but�I heard you like Oriental girls.�
Great.
�Where�d you hear this?� I asked.
�Around�.Don�t worry, I like Oriental girls too. I�m glad somebody else at this school does. Oriental girls are the pinnacle of feminine beauty in my opinion�.Anyway, since we seem to have something in common, I thought maybe we could hang out sometime and��
�Sure, we could do that. Hang out sometime. I�ll call you.�
�You don�t have to call me. You could just walk up two floors to my room, room three-eighteen. You live on the first floor, right?�
�Yeah.�
�Or maybe I could drop by your room.�
�I�m hardly ever in. Let me drop by your room, okay?�
�Okay.�
�Well�now I have to be somewhere�.�
�Of course. Nice meeting you.�
�Yeah. Bye.�
I started walking away.
�Bye!� he shouted hopefully.
I never saw him again, so I don�t know if he knew about my high-school crush on Frances, Frances Chao, or why he considered Oriental girls the pinnacle of feminine beauty, or if he�d even seen The Rocky Horror Picture Show, or if he wore that button just to look cool.
Make up your own damn gags about Fiction and Home.
� 2007 David V. Matthews