Dave left us the next day. He said he had something to do, but wouldn't divulge specifics. I had a feeling that it somehow involved his parents, but I didn't push him.
Ellie and I spent the weekend in quiet, marital bliss. We cooked, we read to each other, we watched movies, we walked the dogs, I graded papers, Ellie cleaned up photos on her Mac from her last shoot - we made love as though we were making up for lost time - and we were. It made Monday morning all that much harder to face, though Ellie wasn't going to have leave again for some time. But face it I did.
I woke up in a preternatural good mood. Usually Ellie was the one to wake me up, through a variety of different avenues (and not all of them nice). But today - nothing could go wrong today. I slipped out from beneath the sheets, covering Ellie's shoulders so she wouldn't get cold. I pulled on my bathrobe, started the coffee, and looked to see what I could make for breakfast. Eggs, bacon, cheddar cheese, onions, bell peppers - I started whisking eggs for omelets.
Coffee done, omelets on the plate and (almost) perfect, sourdough toast hot and buttered, I walked back into the bedroom and put the plate on her bedside table. She moved her head a little, but didn't stir. I kissed her lightly - she groaned. I started nibbling on her ear...
"Mmmmm...what...time...?"
"It's 6:30."
"What are you doing?"
"Cooking you breakfast, you lazy bum." One eye flew open at the mention of 'breakfast.' It took her awhile to find the plate with one roving eye, but find it she did. Then both eyes opened, and she smiled.
"I love you," she said.
"I love you," I replied. We ate our breakfast in bed. To any onlooker, I'm certain that vomiting would ensue in mass proportions. But it was moments like this that I never wanted to leave - that I wanted to stretch out for every hidden morsel of memory. I had never thought I could be this happy, but I received reminders all the time - and this was one.
I kissed her one last time, and went to go shower.
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I parked my car in the faculty parking lot with the thought of kissing Ellie good morning still lingering close by. I was walking with a slight grin on my face, saying hello to colleagues and students alike. I could actually be productive and get my grading finished today, I could -
"Dr. Derrick."
I was arrested from my thoughts by the sound of Dean Warren's voice, her short legs clipping along, trying to keep up with my long ones. "Good morning, Dean. How are was your weekend?"
"Just fine thanks. My sister came over with my nieces. John and I cooked. It was lovely. How was yours?"
"It was fabulous. Ellie came home, and I found an old frie-"
"Lovely. Angela, I need a favor." My boss had an incredibly annoying habit of not listening and not caring, which lead to massively rude interruptions that no one on my faculty panel could stand. She would usually follow up the interruption asking for something that was bound to make the subject of her scrutiny groan in horrifying agony. She paused for recognition.
"Sure Sue, how can I help?" I was determined to grin and bare it.
"Phil was going to present the lecturer tonight at the campus convocation, but his son is receiving some award from the Elk's Lodge or something, and he can't do it. Can you?"
"Oh. Well actually I had plans with Ellie tonight, but if you-"
"Great. Thanks so much. You're a life saver." She also interrupted when she knew the answer was yes. She did that to me a lot. "I'll e-mail you the details after my morning class."
"Okay, great." I mostly said this to myself, and it was mostly sarcastic. By the time I opened my mouth to reply, her tiny legs were scurrying her off to places unknown, and people more unfortunate than I.
I sighed, and kept walking, adjusting my leather messenger bag, and switching hands for my coffee. I pulled out my cell phone and called Ellie.
"Wow, you can't get enough, can you? I'm having lunch with George, so I can't meet you at your office for a quickie. I'm sorry."
"Smart ass. I'm actually calling to cancel on you."
"What?! Why? It's only Monday - they can't have you jumping hoops this early."
"This is Sue Warren we're talking about - of course they can. She caught me first thing this morning, the weasel. I have to introduce the lecturer at the convocation tonight. Which means that I have to stay for the whole thing."
"Oh. Well that's not too bad. How late do you think it'll be?"
"It starts at 7:00 p.m., so I'll be home by 9:00 p.m."
"Well fine. I'll just have to call my other wife to see if she's available. Who's speaking? Maybe I'll come."
"I actually can't remember, and I haven't passed any posters yet, oddly enough. As soon as I find out, I'll send you an e-mail."
"Okay. Well have fun. Don't let the weasel get you down."
"Heh. Thanks. I love you."
"I love YOU! I'll see you later."
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I didn't go to my office before class. Even with my run-in with Sue, I was in too good a mood to punish my students with the curriculum. I told them to grab their bags and follow me. Puzzled, the followed behind, except for Wendy, who was pressing me for information about my weekend. I gave her the Thanksgiving menu in great detail until she seemed satisfied that I had not spent my weekend eating microwaved burritos and rice.
I took my eight students out for coffee, and asked them to free-write for class; about their weekend, observations about Thanksgiving - whatever they wanted. At the end of the hour, I let eight seniors toddle off into the world, a little less stressed than when they had come to me. Wendy told me she'd be by for her TA hours, as per usual, and ran off to join a friend. I walked to my building.
My office was in the same disarray as I had left it on Wednesday. I set down my bag, and powered up my laptop. No phone messages, thankfully. My computer finished booting, and I clicked into my Outlook account. Lots of generic campus safety - all campus warnings about locking doors, and not walking alone after dark, blah blah blah. Delete, delete, delete. Ahhhhh, finally. There was Sue's e-mail. I clicked it open.
To: Derrick, Angela C.
From: Warren, Susan J.
10:04 a.m.
Angela,
Here is the information for tonight's convocation. Attached, you'll find Phil's introduction. See? The work's already done for you. Thanks again for doing this.
- Sue
-----------------------------------------
The Diana Robinson Lecturing Endowment presents it's 23rd guest lecturer, Elisabeth Hasselbeck, on the Wellesley Campus, Monday, November 28th at 7:00 p.m. in the Jewett Auditorium. This is a free, campus-wide event. Tea and coffee will be served in the lobby afterwards.
------------------------------------------
I read it over a couple of times, racking my brain to recall Elisabeth Hasselbeck - but I came up short. I resorted to a google search, discovering that this person was on The View - a show I had never seen, let alone had any interest in. Why were we hosting this lecture? I couldn't glean any connection she had to the world of literature or writing. Must be a co-sponsored lecture with Media Studies. Why couldn't they do the introduction? I printed out the attachment and set it aside. Dance, monkey, dance! I forwarded the e-mail to Ellie.
I grabbed the pile of papers in my messenger bag, opened up my grading spreadsheet, and started inputting the marks into my file. Three hours passed by completely unnoticed, when Wendy knocked on my door.
"Come in." I didn't look up.
"Hi Professor. How goes the grading?"
"Almost done, actually. What time is it?"
"1:00. Do you want me to file those papers in the cabinet?"
"Sure Wendy, that would be great." I turned back to my data input. Then I had a thought. "Hey Wendy, do you know who Elisabeth Hasselbeck is?"
"UGH!" A sound of utter disgust that only Wendy could produce. "Yes. She's speaking here tonight, you know. I'm not going." She sounded very decided.
"Why not? I don't know anything about her, except that she's on the view, and is married to a NFL quarterback? What's wrong with her?"
She thought for a moment,"Professor, let's just say that she wouldn't be your cup of tea, and leave it at that. Her ideas are ridiculously archaic, and a disgrace to the female sex. She's setting us back 50 years a television program that is almost solely watched by female viewers. It's a travesty!"
"But ... what does she do?"
"She doesn't do anything! She sits on television for an hour, spouting her opinions with idiotic volume. She's just a two-bit celebrity with blonde hair and pressed nails. She went to Boston College. She probably wasn't accepted at Wellesley." Wendy said this with an air of superiority which I was greatly amused by.
"So why is she speaking here?"
"I honestly don't know. The Women's Alliance tried to appeal to the the president, claiming that such a speaker was unfit for the leading women's institution in the country. She just told us that as the leading women's institution in the country, we had the responsibility of listening to all view-points, no matter the content. Bullshit."
"You didn't say that to the president, did you?"
"Of course not. But I thought it. Loudly."
"I have to introduce her tonight. Professor Holt had to cancel."
The look of complete and utter pity that crossed over Wendy's face was palpable. I could feel sorrow radiating in waves from her skin. "Oh Professor! I am so sorry!"
"Oh God, is she that bad? Shit. I had to cancel dinner with Ellie for this. I should have known they'd do something like this to me."
"I'll go with you."
"Wendy, you don't need to do that. Especially after that bolstering display of excitement. I'll be fine. I'll just sit by the door."
"Trust me, professor. You'll want someone there."
The message alert sounded ominously on my laptop. I clicked open a new e-mail from Ellie:
To: Derrick, Angela C.
From: Mason, Ellie S.
1:30 p.m.
Oh Boy. I'm sorry love, but you're on your own. Good luck. I'll have dinner and a stiff drink ready for you when you come home.
Whatever you do, don't pay attention.
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I had a late lunch on campus, and mostly forgot about the evening's pending events. I graded more papers, prepared my lessons for the week, and put my office into some semblance of order. It no longer resembled massive hurricane debris. While I marveled at my own productivity, Wendy's knock was back at my door.
"Are you ready for this?" She asked with the enthusiasm of a Death Row inmate.
"I have no idea what 'this' is. So maybe I have the upper-hand."
"Trust me professor, no one has the upper hand. This is a lose-lose situation."
"Again, you really don't have to come, Wendy. I'll be fine." I smiled encouragingly, belying my state. I was dreading this more and more. There were just too many omens that couldn't be ignored.
"No way, Professor. You need a wing-man...err, woman. It's unfair otherwise."
Great. Way to lift my expectations, Wendy. "Okay then." I said. "Let's get this fiasco over with."
We walked down the stairs, and out into the crisp November air. Clouds were building, coming from the North. It smelled like snow. Oh swell; foreshadowing. I checked in with the staff members from the publicity department. They asked me if I was all set. I affirmed that I was. They told me that the student body president would introduce me, and then I would introduce Elisabeth. Dance, monkey, dance!
Wendy and I found seats by one of the side exits. "It's our only hope!" Wendy had said. Twice. By this point, I believed her.
Then, Elisabeth walked into the room. She sat was talking with her handlers who were talking with the university's PR people. It was suddenly very Hollywood. One of the handlers pointed at me, and I suddenly felt awkward. I pretended to read my notes. Then, she walked over.
"Hi Professor Derrick."
Technically it's Doctor Derrick. "Hi, how are you?"
"Thanks for doing this. I really appreciate it."
"Uh, sure. No problem. Happy to." I smiled akwardly.
"Did you have any questions about my CV?"
It's not a CV - it's a paragraph about your life. "Uh, no. It seems pretty cut and dry."
"Great. Well thanks again." She walked away. Thank God.
Well that wasn't so bad. This might not be the train-wreck I thought! Just read it, listen for an hour, and you're home free!
Students started flooding in and rushing for seats. I stood against the wall, and made the mistake of glancing at Wendy, who was looking around nervously. It seemed we were both preparing for our executions. .Some of my other students caught my eye and waved - with just a hint of confusion as to why I was here. The more eyes I met, the more I understood that I had not been expected. Their's were looks of both amusement and shock, often blended with a side of incredulity.
The ushers closed the doors, the lights went dim, and the Student Body President walked up to the podium. "Good evening, women of Wellesley. Before we begin, I've been asked to remind you to turn off all cell phones, and to point out the exits," she gestured to the doors on either side of the hall, "in case of emergency. And now, without further ado, I give you one of our esteemed English professors, who wins the award for owner of the biggest dog on campus, and the coolest poetry professor ever .... Doctor Angela Derrick!"
Shouts and hollers climbed over a sea of clapping. If nothing else, I could at least take solace in my students. We could suffer through this together. I put my notes on the podium, smiled at the students before me, and waited for them to quiet down.
"Good evening, and thank you for that sublime introduction, Jessica." A couple of chuckles. "Ladies, tonight we're in for a treat. The departments of English and Media Studies are proud to give you tonight's guest lecturer, Elisabeth Hasselback." Politely enthusiastic clapping. "As a native Rhode Islander, Elisabeth is a New Englander through and through. An alumna of Boston College, Elisabeth's prestigious resume includes graphic design for the Puma Clothing Company, a stunning and gritty foray on the reality tv show Survivor: Australia, and most impressively, the fifth female voice of opinion on the exceedingly popular op.ed. program, The View. She is the mother of three, and is the proud wife of Seattle Seahawk's quarterback, Matt Hasselbeck. She's incredibly honored to be speaking in front of you today, and would like to thank God; without whom, nothing is possible." PAIN!!! "Without further ado, I give you Elisabeth Hasselbeck."
She walked up to the platform, I shook her hand, turned, and went to my seat by Wendy. Somehow, in the shoddy skimming job I had performed on the notes earlier, I didn't register any of that. Not one fact. Not one reference to God. Wendy gave me a pained and pitied look. I must have looked shell-shocked.
She had been well into her "lecture" by the time I was prepared to tune in, and I so regret that I did. She was denying the merits of public option healthcare, and calling Democrats socialists - clearly, her argument was coming straight from the ire of Republic pundits with nothing better to do than take bribes from pharmaceutical companies. I had my head in my hand, trying to find a happier place within me, calculating if I could escape the auditorium unnoticed, and then flee toward safety...
And then, it happened.
As I sat in forced silence, trying my own patience to its max, I heard the words "lesbian activists" and "Wellesley liberal brainwashing." I dropped my face from my eyes, and I looked at her for the first time.
My eyes were transfixed - as much as I couldn't look before, now I couldn't look away! I felt my heart thrum faster in my ears, blood rushing to my head. She was telling the women of Wellesley that they were being lied to - that the "lesbian administration" was trying to "brainwash them" into not only the ultimate liberal agenda, but was trying to turn them gay. We were, according to her, recruiting them for our own nefarious purposes, book by blessed book, lesson by dykey lesson. Her adivce? For the women of Wellesley to drop out! Find God! and "See the light of the world, the truth of the country before it's too late! Before you're completely brainwashed - until your parents don't know you anymore!"
The blood rushed faster, the echo of my heart quickened and became a lot louder. The edges of my vision reddened, like my eyes had just been filtered over with blood - I was vaguely aware that Wendy had her hand on my arm - I felt my nails digging into arm rests of the seat, fibers finding their way underneath my nails - the world seemed to be getting smaller - everything felt small; except for me. I was growing, I was gaining strength. My eyes were still fixed on her, locked as if the importance of everything in the world depended on it ... I wanted to hit her. No. I REALLY wanted to hit her - slam her head into the podium, drag from the hall, and throw her through the glass doors, fragments of glass exploding everywhere - it was an urge toward violence I had never felt in my life! Then I felt Wendy pulling on my arm...
"Uhm, Professor ... we need to go. NOW."
I couldn't move - if I moved, I would throw her through the glass doors - I would shove her face into the podium. I felt the armrests disintegrate underneath my finger tips....
"Wendy....what's.....happening to......me??" I was trying to speak as low as I could, through gritted teeth - but everything felt louder, thicker, heavier. People were moving around me, my arm was fully extended, Wendy on the other end, pulling for all she was worth.
"PROFESSOR - NOW!" She tugged my arm hard, and I followed, still looking at the demon at the podium. I could sense activity all around me - every inch of my skin felt like it was on fire. I could feel the head radiating from chest to my face, every muscle in my body was tense and ready to spring. Wendy somehow managed to pull me into a back hallway - the door to the auditorium closed shut; my eye-contact was broken. I couldn't see her anymore. The heat, my hands, my skin, the redness in my eyes - vanished. I felt my pulse slow, and my blood settle. I was back.
I looked down. I was drenched in sweat. I was shaking. I looked at Wendy.
"Wendy ... what just happened to me?" I was very deliberate and cautious with my words, desperate for an explanation.
"I ... I don't know, Professor." Her voice was tentative, scared, worried, full of care and concern. "You ripped up the chair. You ... you were glowing. And growling."
"Glowing? I felt hot...like I was on fire. And growling??"
"Y-Yes." I furrowed my eyebrows and immediately looked to the double doors, expecting a mob to come through. I wasn't sure, but I was pretty sure it wasn't normal. Wendy saw my panic and said, "I don't think anyone noticed but me. The student body was ready to riot, they all went out through the main doors. I pulled you back here."
"Oh God. Thank you. Thank you, Wendy. That's never happened before. I promise that's never happened before!"
"It's okay, Professor. It's going to be okay."
"No, it's not going to be okay. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong. Everything in me is different - I can feel it." I stumbled back against the wall - where I had felt so strong, not 5 minutes ago, I now felt like a new-born fawn - weak, stumbling, shaking. I started to cry.
"Professor, it's going to be okay. I have an idea. I'm not sure if it will work, but I know someone we can ask about ... about this."
"Wendy - promise me you won't tell anyone. ANYONE. Please."
"Of course not, Professor. I promise." She looked into my eyes with earnest, and grabbed my right hand. "Come on. I'm going to drive you home."
It wasn't until then that it hit me - Ellie.
I sat in Wendy's car, tears silently rolling down my face in confusion and fear as we drove to the house.
My life would never be the same again.
