Back to Work?

Monday morning saw Myrtle well-rested and looking forward to going back to work, if only for a change of pace. When she entered the department, there was a crowd milling about in the foyer. As she passed through the throng, Myrtle felt very much as if she was the subject of their interest. But she just smiled, nodded and kept going toward her office. As soon as she opened the door, she saw a man standing there. He turned toward her as she came in. Myrtle recognized Paul Visman, the Dean of Arts. He was evidently waiting for her. She vaguely wondered if she was late, but knew she wasn’t. A feeling of uncomfortable anticipation came over her.

“Good morning, Myrtle,” said the Dean.

"‘Morning Paul,” she responded guardedly as she put her purse into her desk drawer. Then she just waited. He must be standing there for a reason, she thought. So she just stood there too.

“I wonder if we should wait for Dick,” he pondered out loud, clearly feeling awkward.

“If you like,” ventured Myrtle.

At that moment, as if summoned by some unseen hand, Dick sort of blundered through the office door. He seemed very perplexed and somewhat out-of-sorts by the crowd outside the office. He closed the door and stood looking at Myrtle and Paul, quite plainly put out.

The Dean cleared his throat a little loudly. “Myrtle,” he began. “Max Pelham has filed a formal complaint that you were very rude to him, and I have to investigate it.”

Myrtle instantly understood ~ everything. She thought she recognized some faces in the foyer. These were students ready to crucify Pelham. Myrtle felt a certain comfort from this. She couldn’t help smiling, just a little.

The Dean cleared his throat again. “Were you rude to him, Myrtle.”

“I don’t think so,” she said quietly. “I was stern with him, Paul. After all, he came in here yelling about how stupid his students are.”

“He says you yelled at him,” said Paul.

Myrtle’s smile only deepened. “I don’t yell,” she said quite simply. She met his gaze and held it.

They stood that way for several seconds, then the Dean looked away, clearing his throat yet again. “I see,” he said. “And what do you call ‘stern’?” he asked.

“Mr. Pelham was asserting, rather loudly, that all his students are very stupid,” said Myrtle. “I pointed out to him, rather sternly, that these students went through an admissions process and were judged suitable for this program by their faculty interviewer. In many cases, this would have been either you, or Dick.” She paused and looked toward Dick for effect. Both men seemed to be slowly digesting her words. “I thought he ought not question your competence the way he seemed to be doing, and I said so.” Again Myrtle paused and waited.

“He’s a piece o’ work,” muttered Dick.

Myrtle smiled. “I also pointed out to him that his students were no more fond of him than he was of them,” she smiled. “I don’t think he liked that.”

“Mmmmph,” said the Dean. “But you didn’t raise your voice to him?” he pressed.

“Quite the contrary,” smiled Myrtle. “I find people are more likely to listen if you lower your voice.”

“He said you should have just booked him an appointment with Dick,” pushed the Dean.

“And I offered to,” replied Myrtle truthfully. “But he just walked away in a huff.”

The Dean nodded thoughtfully and glanced at Dick, who squared his shoulders rather determinedly, chin out. “There is no way Myrtle did anything wrong here,” said Dick. “Pelham is a jerk! I’ll defend Myrtle as fervently as I must,” he declared.

Myrtle was quite touched. This was a very brave stand for someone like Dick. She offered a particularly warm smile in return, but said nothing more.

“Hmmmmmph,” said the Dean again. “Well, I must take this all into consideration,” he added thoughtfully.

Dick’s hand was on the office door to open it for the Dean, who seemed a little hesitant to leave. The crowd outside the door had milled a little closer. There was a certain threatening air to the gathering. Perhaps it was the concerned and often angry looks on their faces.

“Be careful out there,” said Myrtle, smiling.

The Dean glanced at her, then back at the crowd. “What are they doing here?” he asked, clearly intimidated.

“I think they’re here to defend me,” said Myrtle, a little gleefully. “I mean, they’re Mr. Pelham’s students and they’ve put up with a lot of verbal abuse from him. They aren’t happy about it. Some of them came to me for comfort. They’ve probably heard about the complaints and they’re here to have a say,” she finished, nodding toward the crowd.

The Dean’s mouth had fallen open and the look on his face revealed that some sort of light was dawning. He was apparently only just catching on to the true nature of the situation, and it showed. He quite unconsciously backed up a couple of steps. Dick looked perplexed, as if he didn’t know if he should shut the door again or not. But the Dean suddenly squared his shoulders and strode toward the door, pausing only briefly at the doorjamb. Then he strode into the crowd, which parted just enough for him to squeeze through.

Both Myrtle and Dick watched until the he disappeared, the crowd closing behind him. Then one of the students stepped toward Myrtle. “Is everything ok?” she asked.

“So far,” answered Myrtle, smiling, then she sort of nodded at everyone in general. “He’s ‘investigating’ Mr. Pelham’s complaints,” she said.

“We know,” said the student, rather neatly confirming Myrtle’s thinking. “He better come to the right conclusion,” she said, with more than a hint of threat in her voice.

Myrtle was a bit taken aback, but only smiled gratefully. She wasn’t really into mobs, but as long as they weren’t after her, she was going to just go along. She nodded again and retreated into her office. “Work to do,” she sort of mumbled.

Dick just sort of retreated back into the office too. He didn’t seem to want to venture out the door just yet, and Myrtle was happy for him to stay for the moment. She sat down behind her desk and opened her work drawer. Dick stood beside her, nervously fumbling with his tie and sleeves. They glanced at one another.

“Nothing like a little excitement to start the week off right,” muttered Dick quietly.

Myrtle smiled and opened her work folder.