Bye Bye Mr. Pelham

Fred took quite the start on Thursday morning. He was lying in bed after breakfast, resting his eyes, when a large shadow fell across him. He didn’t open his eyes right away, assuming it was a nurse come to take him for a walk. Suddenly the deep voice of his boss boomed above him.

“How are you doing, Fred?” asked the large man.

Fred jumped visibly. “Erch!” he said, grabbing his stomach as a sharp pain paralysed him for a moment. He stared wide-eyed at Mr. Grieves’ smiling face.

“Oh. Sorry young man, did I startle you?”

“Ye..ye..yes,” stammered Fred.

Mr. Grieves only chuckled in response. “How are they treating you?” he asked, once Fred had gotten comfortable again.

“Fine, Mr. Grieves. They’re really very good here,” he said, not quite sure why he felt he needed to give the hospital some sort of recommendation.

“Good, good,” nodded Mr. Grieves. “Do you know when you’re being discharged?” he asked congenially, at the same time glancing around as if assessing Fred’s private room and what it was costing the company.

All the details of the previous evening flooded through Fred’s head, but he mentally edited it before opening his mouth. “Yes, yes, sir. I’m being released tomorrow. My... um... friend is going to pick me up and take me home to my new apartment.”

“And your convalescence can begin,” said Mr. Grieves, sort of finishing Fred’s last sentence.

“Yes,” nodded Fred. “I’ll probably be off a couple of weeks,” he sort of whimpered, smiling sheepishly.

Mr. Grieves’ booming laughter filled the room. “Oh my boy, you’ll likely be off longer than that, but don’t you worry about a thing. You just get well. I just popped in to see if there was anything you need.”

Fred somehow found Mr. Grieves words disquieting. But the large man just smiled and smiled some more at Fred, who felt the need to respond, “um... well, no, I guess I’m all looked after, Mr. Grieves.”

“Well that’s good then!” boomed the man, making Fred jump slightly again, and shrink back just a little as his boss grabbed his shoulder rather gruffly and gave him a little shake. “You take care of yourself then, young man. And if there’s anything you need... anything at all, don’t you hesitate to call Helen and let her know. All right?”

Fred smiled gratefully. “Ok, Mr. Grieves, thank you!”

Grieves only chuckled loudly again, then with a cheerful wave, he turned toward the door.

Fred wasn’t sure what to think. It was awfully nice of Mr. Grieves to drop in and check on him like that. Yet something about the whole thing felt just a little uncomfortable. Just as Fred snuggled back into his pillow, a nurse came striding through the door.

“My, but that man was certainly loud, wasn’t he? Is he related to your mother?” she asked.

Fred laughed until he was shaking with mirth and holding his stomach in pain. “No, no...” he whimpered at last. “He’s my boss,” he explained. And then, “but you know, there are some loud people in my life,” he nodded, as if suddenly wondering why he’d been laughing.

It was the nurse’s turn to laugh, or at least chuckle as she got Fred up and helped him on with the extra robe for his walk.

Between the walk and all the strange merriment, Fred was quite exhausted when he got back into the bed. He thought of grabbing a nap, but could hear the lunch cart down the hallway and decided to eat first.

Myrtle, meanwhile, was having an interesting day as well, punctuated as it was by Mr. Pelham’s students coming in to ask her why there was no instructor for his classes. By the time Dick had caught on there was something afoot and strode into her office, there was a little gathering of students by her desk. He glanced a little nervously at them, then sort of sashayed closer to Myrtle, around her desk.

“Did he not call or anything?” he asked Myrtle.

She shook her head. “Nope. I haven’t heard a thing. Maybe you should check with the Dean.”

The words were no sooner out of her mouth than the Dean walked through her door too. Myrtle looked at the strange group in front of her and resisted the temptation to say, “I suppose you’re all wondering why I called you here this morning.” She held in a chuckle, but was sure her eyes would betray her amusement, so she looked down at her work folder quickly.

“So what’s all the fuss?” the Dean asked her. “I’ve got students in my office too.”

Myrtle cleared her throat and forced herself to look serious. “Apparently Mr. Pelham hasn’t shown up for his classes today ~ at least, not so far,” she said.

“He didn’t call?”

“No sir,” she said, shaking her head. “At least, he didn’t call my office.”

“Is that not procedure?” asked the Dean, a little haughtily.

“Usually,” answered Myrtle, “although it’s perfectly acceptable for him to call your office as well.”

“Humph,” said the Dean. Then, “would you please call him at home, Myrtle?”

Myrtle gazed at him. “Ok,” she said hesitantly, wondering why he didn’t get his assistant to do it. This, she thought, would have been the more suitable choice under the circumstances. But she dutiful picked up the phone under the Dean’s watchful gaze, the students not budging from their little grouping nearby. Myrtle flipped through her file and found Pelham’s number, then dialed. It rang several times, then a very agitated voice answered, rather loudly.

“Mr. Pelham?” enquired Myrtle softly. Suddenly Myrtle yanked the phone away from her ear and held it up. Everyone in the room could hear Pelham screaming abuse at Myrtle. The students began to giggle, Dick turned red, for what reason Myrtle couldn’t fathom, and the Dean’s nostrils flared, the look on his face all the haughtier, if that was possible.

He took the phone from Myrtle. “MR. PELHAM!” he bellowed into the mouthpiece. “Mr. Pelham, this is the Dean! I assure you I will not keep you! You will be notified of the date of your dismissal hearing by my office before the end of classes tomorrow!” With that, the Dean handed the phone back to Myrtle, turned and strode from her office. As quickly as he was walking away, Myrtle was certain he still must have heard the spontaneous cheer that burst forth from the gaggle of students in her office.

Another Ride on the Midway of Life

The rest of the week was a bit of a roller coaster ride for both Fred and Myrtle. The atmosphere at the college was still very tense as the Dean seemed to be taking his time with any sort of action or decision. Hostility toward Mr. Pelham was at an all new high as students apparently conspired to stare stonily at him during his lectures. It was, of course, his undoing. He tried hard to ignore them and just get through his lectures, but by Wednesday afternoon he simply couldn’t take either the sulky lethargy displayed by some, or the open hostility of others. He slammed a pointer down onto the desk in one classroom and began yelling at his students again, threatening to not even bother showing up to teach them anything if they were going to be so horribly unreceptive. His voice gaining in volume and pitch as he spewed his threats and insults, the students began to glance at one another and smirk. This was the last straw. Red faced and quite plainly furious, Pelham gathered up his notes and books with shaking hands and strode from the classroom. He didn’t turn up for his Thursday classes at all.

Myrtle, meanwhile, was working away at a steady flow of pedagogical-related demands, both usual and unusual, trying all the while to keep her mind off all the fuss, even though the feeling of being watched never really went away. If it wasn’t a student glancing sidelong at her as they passed in a hallway, or Professor Dilby come to stare at her, it was the Dean, who seemed to just pop up where least expected, like the lunch room, the equipment room, outside the ladies washroom, or just in the foyer. Myrtle smiled and nodded at them all, feeling a little as if she must surely develop a sore neck by the end of each day from the strain. She also assumed that the Dean must be gathering quite the dossier on her rather mundane daily activities. But she said nothing. Myrtle was enough of a pragmatist to know that news would come a-knocking just as soon as it was ready for her ~ especially if it was bad.

And Fred? He was getting anxious to get out of the hospital, even though he was still feeling weak, and even though he still spent much of his time sleeping off the pain-killers. He was getting fewer pain-killers each day, but he was sleepy-headed anyway. In fact, on Tuesday Myrtle had to wake him, because he was lying on his back, snoring loudly when she arrived. He was certain some of his sleepiness was due to boredom. Oh, he obediently took his walks, a little farther and a little longer each day. But when those were done, there were only so many magazine articles he could read to keep busy. By the time Myrtle showed up at the end of Wednesday, he was quite desperate for company and a little affection.

For her part, Myrtle was tired and a little stressed out, but glad of the change of pace. She was sure that if she’d just gone home after work each day, she’d likely spend the whole evening preoccupied by what was happening at work, and wind up even more stressed out. Fred was a happy diversion ~ a little bit fun, a little bit pathetic, a little bit goofy ~ he usually kept her from thinking about work at all. Although the hospital food was beginning to pale for her, despite its being good, she was enjoying having supper each evening with Fred.

They were both surprised when Fred’s doctor came in on Wednesday evening to inform Fred that they needed the bed and he was to be discharged the next morning. In fact, Myrtle panicked a little. She stood up and stared wide-eyed at the doctor.

“Something?” he said, noticing her surprise.

“Um... I... I.. work all day. I can’t get off tomorrow to take him home.”

“Is there anyone else...?” the doctor began, but both Fred and Myrtle were shaking their heads vehemently, as if both were picturing Flora clomping into the room to take Fred home.

“Can’t you keep him a bit longer?” asked Myrtle, a little desperately. Fred whimpered and she turned. “I’m sorry, Fred, but I just can’t get off work on that short notice, especially with what’s going on,” she said, immediately regretting those last few words.

Fred nodded sadly, then glanced at her. “What’s happening Myrtle?”

She just shook her head. “I’ll tell you about it later,” she said, waving a hand at him. Then she turned back to the doctor. “I can sneak out early on Friday if you can keep him till after lunch. Then I’ll come get him,” she promised.

The doctor looked at Fred’s chart again, then promised to be right back. Myrtle glanced at Fred again as the doctor disappeared through the doorway. “I’m sorry, Fred.” she said again. “Things are a little hairy at work right now, and I just can’t....”

“It’s ok, Myrtle,” he assured her. “But what’s been going on?” Myrtle moved closer to Fred and took his hand. She was casting around in her mind trying to figure out exactly what to tell him when the doctor came back into the room. They both looked up.

“Ok. I’ve checked with the nurses and they say we can swing it. Fred will be ready to discharge after lunch on Friday, but he won’t be in here. We normally discharge in the morning to get the room ready for the next patient. So Fred will be dressed on Friday morning and wheeled to the patient sitting room for his lunch. You can pick him up there, ok?”

“Oh, thank you doctor,” said Myrtle, as Fred smiled and nodded his agreement.

“No problem,” smiled the doctor. “So I’ll be back tomorrow then with your instructions, Fred.”

“Ok,” squeaked Fred. Then, clearing his throat, “that’ll be great.”

Once the doctor had left, Myrtle settled down beside Fred to tell him about what was going on at work. She glossed over it a bit, and down-played the whole thing, which only made her regret mentioning it all the more, since without the gory details it really wasn’t much at all. She changed the subject as soon as she reasonably could, and they passed the evening pleasantly until the announcement came that visiting hours were over. At home that evening, Myrtle wasted no time hitting the sheets. She just had a feeling the end of the week was going to be a busy time.