Myrtle was exhausted by the time she arrived at Fred’s that evening. There was food there she had planned to cook for them, but she stopped at the Chicken Hut instead and brought in chicken, fries and coleslaw for their supper. She was a little torn between eating supper or just going straight to a nervous breakdown.
Fred, of course, had no real appreciation of what she was going through at work and Myrtle wasn't ready to talk about it. And Fred was just as happy with Chicken Hut chicken as with a home-cooked meal anyway. It really didn’t matter to Fred, as long as he had supper. Although, after eating waffles for breakfast and peanut butter and banana sandwiches for lunch, he was in no danger of starving. Once again, he’d only just finished his wash when Myrtle arrived with the supper. They ate in silence, except for lip-smacking and other foody noises from Fred intended to demonstrate his appreciation. Myrtle was careful to just have a Brio with her supper. She wanted very much to sleep in her own bed that night.
After supper she encouraged Fred to come with her for a little walk again. It was exercise for Fred, but did Myrtle a world of good as well, just strolling slowly arm-in-arm with Fred in the crisp autumn air, relaxing and breathing slowly as they walked. It was probably the quietest evening the two had spent together. Myrtle just didn’t feel like talking, and Fred seemed quite content to just go with whatever Myrtle wanted. And yet there was no discomfort or awkwardness. They just strolled along together to the corner, then turned and strolled back to Fred’s apartment.
When they got back, Myrtle told Fred she’d had a rather exhausting day at the office and really needed to have an early night. He had a queasy moment of uncertainty, but then she smiled so sweetly at him that it went right away. He leaned toward her and kissed her most ardently and she returned it. But then she pulled away, just a little ahead of him. She was tired; he still wasn’t ready to follow through. They smiled at each other.
“Will you be all right, Fred?” she asked.
“I’ll manage, Myrtle. I know where everything is now,” he assured her. “You go home and get some rest. See you tomorrow?”
“Right after work,” she assured him.
The two exchanged one more hug, then Myrtle left. Fred made himself comfortable on his couch and picked up the TV remote. Myrtle drove home, rehashing her day on the way. At least, she thought, that would keep her awake till she got home. Once there, she lit a fire in the stove, grabbed a blanket and curled up on the couch for what was to be just a little while. She fell asleep there. Sometime during the night, Myrtle awoke and realized she wasn’t in her bed, so she put another log on the fire and went to snuggle in properly.
In the morning Myrtle awoke feeling more refreshed than she had in a long time. She adjusted the electric heat again, as usual, since she would not be home to keep the fire going, and she got ready for work at a more relaxed pace and wondered what to have for breakfast. Over a poached egg with toast and a fresh coffee, she fervently hoped that this day would be a quieter one at work.
She was in luck. It seemed, for the moment anyway, that all the drama had quieted and she could just get on with her work. Her perspective on only one thing had drastically changed: Professor Dilby could come into her office any time and ask her for almost anything, and she would simply do her level best to see that he got it. She hoped that pretty much everyone else would just stay away from her door... for the rest of week if possible.
Thursday was also a quiet day at work, giving Myrtle ample time to reflect on the lingering kisses she’d shared with Fred before leaving his apartment the previous day. She left work early on this day to take Fred to the hospital to have his staples removed. It went fairly well, at least, from her perspective. She had sort of entertained the idea of just stopping at a fast food restaurant for supper on the way back to Fred’s. But he exited the hospital examination room moaning in pain and squirming so, Myrtle felt it best just to take him home. There was no walk that evening. Myrtle just made supper and gave Fred some pain-killers for dessert. He apologized profusely for being such a big baby about it, but insisted that the doctor was less than gentle and his belly really hurt. Myrtle told him just as repeatedly that it was ok. She needed another good night of rest anyway. She encouraged Fred to just turn in early and she would leave and do the same.
Friday passed quietly, in almost monotonous sameness, except it was raining out, so Myrtle couldn’t convince Fred to go for his walk that day either, not even by reminding him that they met whilst walking in the rain. She suggested that they do some stretching exercises instead, but Fred made the excuse that his stomach still hurt and he just wanted to play some cards together. And so they did, until Myrtle left for home, parting, as had become their custom, with hugs and kisses at Fred’s door.
Myrtle showed up Saturday morning with donuts and they had breakfast together, then ventured outside finally for a walk in the cool, grey day. They got farther than the corner this time, but not much. When they got back, Myrtle busied herself cleaning Fred’s apartment and making lunch, while Fred snoozed on the couch. But on this day, Myrtle was not planning to stay all day. She pointed out the leftovers in the fridge just to make supper easy for Fred, but he’d have to have it alone.
“I have to get some cleaning done at home while there’s still some daylight,” she explained. “There’s quite a gaggle of dust bunnies partying under my couch,” she said with a little laugh. “I want to at least scatter them before beginning another week of being away from home.”
Fred understood. After all, Myrtle had been spending most of her time at his place. Later, in retrospect, Myrtle wished she’d invited Fred to come home with her and spend that night at her place. But she wasn’t sure he was ready for that and didn’t want to scare him or seem demanding. She thought they were building toward something very meaningful and was willing to be patient. So she told Fred she’d be back in the morning, but would be a bit late for breakfast, since she wanted to pick up a few groceries for them both. She paused, wondering if Fred would want to come shopping with her, but he didn’t ask to, so she just assured him she’d be there in plenty of time for lunch. She thought they could spend the afternoon together and maybe, if the weather wasn’t too bad, they might try to get a little farther on their walk. After an ardent kiss and a lingering hug, she left him standing there, in his robe, and went home.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Friday, February 17, 2012
The OK Corral?
Fred, meanwhile, had decided on toast and eggs for breakfast, and though he burned himself twice ~ once on the frying pan, and once again on the coffee pot, and had a terrible time getting the eggs out of pan, mostly because he hadn’t oiled it enough, his breakfast was quite good. He decided that real butter melted into hot toast was so much better than whatever they put on the toast at the hospital, no matter what was served with it. After eating, he left the pan soaking in the sink, rather hoping Myrtle would get the thing clean when she came to make supper.
He spent much of the day watching daytime television and wound up getting rather passionate about the shortage of homes for stray cats, not only in the city, but also in more rural towns such as his. He comforted himself with peanut butter and jam sandwiches for lunch, with a big glass of milk, then took solace in an afternoon nap that pretty much consumed his day. He had only just had his wash when he heard Myrtle’s key in the door.
As luck would have it, after a rather harrowing and surprising day at the office, Myrtle went at that pan with something of vengeance when she got there. Then she cooked them a lovely spaghetti dinner as she pondered whether or not to tell Fred about what happened with Mr. Pelham and Professor Dilby in her office. They enjoyed a lovely supper, and after a couple of glasses of red wine, Myrtle divulged all. Whereupon, lips loosened by a combination of light pain-killers and red wine, Fred confided his continued worry over the visit in his hospital room from Mr. Grieves.
“Did he say anything about your job to worry you?” asked Myrtle in concern.
“No, nothing direct,” he answered slowly. “It... it’s just that he was being so darned nice,” explained Fred. “It just seemed so odd somehow.”
Myrtle wasn’t sure what to say, except to be reassuring. “I’m sure it’ll all be fine,” she said. “Why don’t we go for a little walk?” she suggested.
And so they did, getting just to the corner again, to get Fred his exercise. Myrtle knew she should go home early because she was really tired, but after the wine, she wasn’t sure she should drive. So when they came in from their walk, Myrtle made tea and they talked some more. When they looked up at the clock on the stove, it was really late and Myrtle decided that fatigue and wine was a bad combination to drive on, so she helped Fred get ready for bed, then made herself a temporary bed on his new couch. She borrowed Fred’s clock radio and set it to get up very early so she could go home to shower and change before work. It was really nice to have someone to talk to and spend time with, but this was getting a bit awkward, she thought. However, she was really tired and just wanted to sleep, so she decided to think about it tomorrow.
If getting ready for work on Monday was hectic and rushed for Myrtle, it was more so on Tuesday. She left the coffee maker ready to just turn on for Fred, and rushed out the door to her little home in the woods. There she showered, dressed and grabbed another protein bar. Myrtle knew that breakfast is the most important meal of the day and wasn’t exactly happy with the way things were working out. She hoped for a relaxing day at the office so she could give things more thought and figure out a better way to manage this relationship and its demands, in concert with her other responsibilities.
Alas, when she arrived at her office, a few scant minutes late, there was Mr. Pelham again, in her office, quite caught up in a heated argument with Dick. It actually turned out to be a good thing Myrtle was late, because Pelham had returned to berate her some more for his misfortune. Dick just got there first. After a long, drawn out hearing the previous day, he had been dismissed from the teaching staff of the college for verbally abusing his students and shirking his responsibilities. Several students had gone there to have their say, yet Pelham was still apparently determined to blame Myrtle for everything. He was now yelling threats at Dick that he would sue for wrongful dismissal.
Myrtle was just plain fed up with being blamed for the whole thing by both the Dean and Pelham. All she’d done was offer comfort to some upset students and a few words of advice and warning to Mr. Pelham. So much for being the voice of reason, she huffed at herself. Dick was standing up for her, arguing to Pelham that he was the author of his own undoing. As the whole scene played out, there were several students gathering around the door of the office, listening to the argument with interest, and amusement.
Myrtle really just wanted to drink her coffee and do her work, but here she was, first thing, on nothing but a protein bar, having to deal with this Gunfight at the OK Corral. Beyond annoying, she thought. Why didn't this crazy man just go away? Both Dick and Pelham glanced her way a couple of times, and the students behind her edged closer, watching. Pelham, red faced from arguing with Dick, turned a scathing glare on Myrtle, while Dick only sighed, a little pathetically. Myrtle wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. She looked around at the little gathering of mostly grinning students and wanted to laugh, once more, a little hysterically. Finally she put her coffee down on her desk, took a deep breath, put her hands on her hips and glared back at Pelham.
“I have had enough of you!” she declared. “You have insulted your students and blamed anyone but yourself for your own foolishness. You and you alone are to blame for what has happened to you. You get out of my office now, and you never, ever come back, or I’ll call the police,” she yelled. Then she cleared her throat and lowered her voice to an angry growl. “I’m not talking college security either, mister. I’m talking the cops. If you think you have troubles now, you don’t have much imagination!”
As she finished there was a smattering of applause amongst the students, and the look on Pelham’s face turned to surprise, then indignation. Then his eyes suddenly widened in fear, which surprised Myrtle, until she turned and saw that Professor Dilby had entered her office again. In fact, he stood very near her, his gaze obviously directed at Pelham. Even Dick backed away as Professor Dilby approached the unfortunate man. In fact, because Dick was behind him, there was nowhere for Pelham to back up. Professor Dilby walked right up to him and leaned into his face.
“I thought I told you to get out,” he said quietly.
Again Myrtle could not see Professor Dilby’s face, but she could see Pelham’s, and he looked quite terrified. In fact, Dick’s eyes were very wide as well. Once again Pelham squirmed around the venerable professor, then made his way through the gaggle of students, which they did not make easy, jostling him back and forth and laughing the while. Professor Dilby followed Pelham’s retreat, and only then did Myrtle get a glimpse of the deep darkness in the professor's eyes. If she was impressed by his saving her before, she was all the more so now. She had thought him a harmless, addled old man, but clearly this was someone it wouldn’t pay to cross. Myrtle was tempted to back off herself, but once Pelham had exited her office, Professor Dilby stood up tall, took a deep breath, and turned a most kindly gaze upon her. She frankly could have fainted. But she only smiled at the professor and made her way to her office chair.
By now her coffee had gotten a little cold, but she pulled the lid off it and took a deep drink. When she looked up, the professor had turned a funny little smile on the students that had them nodding and departing her office. Even Dick just sort of nodded in their general direction and toddled off. She had wanted to thank him, but the only one left in her office besides herself, was the kindly professor, smiling down at her.
“Myrtle, would you have a pencil I could have?” he asked.
He spent much of the day watching daytime television and wound up getting rather passionate about the shortage of homes for stray cats, not only in the city, but also in more rural towns such as his. He comforted himself with peanut butter and jam sandwiches for lunch, with a big glass of milk, then took solace in an afternoon nap that pretty much consumed his day. He had only just had his wash when he heard Myrtle’s key in the door.
As luck would have it, after a rather harrowing and surprising day at the office, Myrtle went at that pan with something of vengeance when she got there. Then she cooked them a lovely spaghetti dinner as she pondered whether or not to tell Fred about what happened with Mr. Pelham and Professor Dilby in her office. They enjoyed a lovely supper, and after a couple of glasses of red wine, Myrtle divulged all. Whereupon, lips loosened by a combination of light pain-killers and red wine, Fred confided his continued worry over the visit in his hospital room from Mr. Grieves.
“Did he say anything about your job to worry you?” asked Myrtle in concern.
“No, nothing direct,” he answered slowly. “It... it’s just that he was being so darned nice,” explained Fred. “It just seemed so odd somehow.”
Myrtle wasn’t sure what to say, except to be reassuring. “I’m sure it’ll all be fine,” she said. “Why don’t we go for a little walk?” she suggested.
And so they did, getting just to the corner again, to get Fred his exercise. Myrtle knew she should go home early because she was really tired, but after the wine, she wasn’t sure she should drive. So when they came in from their walk, Myrtle made tea and they talked some more. When they looked up at the clock on the stove, it was really late and Myrtle decided that fatigue and wine was a bad combination to drive on, so she helped Fred get ready for bed, then made herself a temporary bed on his new couch. She borrowed Fred’s clock radio and set it to get up very early so she could go home to shower and change before work. It was really nice to have someone to talk to and spend time with, but this was getting a bit awkward, she thought. However, she was really tired and just wanted to sleep, so she decided to think about it tomorrow.
If getting ready for work on Monday was hectic and rushed for Myrtle, it was more so on Tuesday. She left the coffee maker ready to just turn on for Fred, and rushed out the door to her little home in the woods. There she showered, dressed and grabbed another protein bar. Myrtle knew that breakfast is the most important meal of the day and wasn’t exactly happy with the way things were working out. She hoped for a relaxing day at the office so she could give things more thought and figure out a better way to manage this relationship and its demands, in concert with her other responsibilities.
Alas, when she arrived at her office, a few scant minutes late, there was Mr. Pelham again, in her office, quite caught up in a heated argument with Dick. It actually turned out to be a good thing Myrtle was late, because Pelham had returned to berate her some more for his misfortune. Dick just got there first. After a long, drawn out hearing the previous day, he had been dismissed from the teaching staff of the college for verbally abusing his students and shirking his responsibilities. Several students had gone there to have their say, yet Pelham was still apparently determined to blame Myrtle for everything. He was now yelling threats at Dick that he would sue for wrongful dismissal.
Myrtle was just plain fed up with being blamed for the whole thing by both the Dean and Pelham. All she’d done was offer comfort to some upset students and a few words of advice and warning to Mr. Pelham. So much for being the voice of reason, she huffed at herself. Dick was standing up for her, arguing to Pelham that he was the author of his own undoing. As the whole scene played out, there were several students gathering around the door of the office, listening to the argument with interest, and amusement.
Myrtle really just wanted to drink her coffee and do her work, but here she was, first thing, on nothing but a protein bar, having to deal with this Gunfight at the OK Corral. Beyond annoying, she thought. Why didn't this crazy man just go away? Both Dick and Pelham glanced her way a couple of times, and the students behind her edged closer, watching. Pelham, red faced from arguing with Dick, turned a scathing glare on Myrtle, while Dick only sighed, a little pathetically. Myrtle wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. She looked around at the little gathering of mostly grinning students and wanted to laugh, once more, a little hysterically. Finally she put her coffee down on her desk, took a deep breath, put her hands on her hips and glared back at Pelham.
“I have had enough of you!” she declared. “You have insulted your students and blamed anyone but yourself for your own foolishness. You and you alone are to blame for what has happened to you. You get out of my office now, and you never, ever come back, or I’ll call the police,” she yelled. Then she cleared her throat and lowered her voice to an angry growl. “I’m not talking college security either, mister. I’m talking the cops. If you think you have troubles now, you don’t have much imagination!”
As she finished there was a smattering of applause amongst the students, and the look on Pelham’s face turned to surprise, then indignation. Then his eyes suddenly widened in fear, which surprised Myrtle, until she turned and saw that Professor Dilby had entered her office again. In fact, he stood very near her, his gaze obviously directed at Pelham. Even Dick backed away as Professor Dilby approached the unfortunate man. In fact, because Dick was behind him, there was nowhere for Pelham to back up. Professor Dilby walked right up to him and leaned into his face.
“I thought I told you to get out,” he said quietly.
Again Myrtle could not see Professor Dilby’s face, but she could see Pelham’s, and he looked quite terrified. In fact, Dick’s eyes were very wide as well. Once again Pelham squirmed around the venerable professor, then made his way through the gaggle of students, which they did not make easy, jostling him back and forth and laughing the while. Professor Dilby followed Pelham’s retreat, and only then did Myrtle get a glimpse of the deep darkness in the professor's eyes. If she was impressed by his saving her before, she was all the more so now. She had thought him a harmless, addled old man, but clearly this was someone it wouldn’t pay to cross. Myrtle was tempted to back off herself, but once Pelham had exited her office, Professor Dilby stood up tall, took a deep breath, and turned a most kindly gaze upon her. She frankly could have fainted. But she only smiled at the professor and made her way to her office chair.
By now her coffee had gotten a little cold, but she pulled the lid off it and took a deep drink. When she looked up, the professor had turned a funny little smile on the students that had them nodding and departing her office. Even Dick just sort of nodded in their general direction and toddled off. She had wanted to thank him, but the only one left in her office besides herself, was the kindly professor, smiling down at her.
“Myrtle, would you have a pencil I could have?” he asked.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Knight in Shining.... Tweed?
Monday didn’t begin well. Myrtle slept in a little bit, hitting the snooze button more often than she should have. By the time she became conscious of how late it was, she had to really hurry to get ready for work. Myrtle hated being rushed. She just grabbed a protein bar for breakfast and decided to get a coffee from the cafeteria at work and have it at her desk. She wondered briefly how Fred was managing, and then sort of decided that he probably wasn’t even up yet. She figured he didn’t have to be, so why would he be? She hoped he'd be able to get his breakfast all right on his own, then turned her mind to the demands of her own morning.
In fact, Fred was up and around, wondering what to have for breakfast. There was bread, a new toaster, butter, jam and peanut butter, but there were also bananas, eggs, and a couple of different kinds of cereal and milk. There were also waffles in the freezer and syrup. Too many choices, he thought. It was enough to bumfuzzle a sleepy-headed fellow. He noticed that there was coffee and water already in the coffee maker, so he hit the button and decided to give the matter of breakfast a little more thought.
The atmosphere seemed somehow tense at work when Myrtle got there. She looked around and couldn’t really see any reason why it should. She thought maybe it was just her and her rushed morning. Setting her coffee on her desk, she put her purse away in the desk drawer and sat down. Pulling out her work file, she was glancing through it and sipping coffee when a shadow darkened her door. She glanced up into the angry glare of Mr. Pelham.
“I hope you’re satisfied,” he hissed.
Myrtle shrugged. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, quite surprised by his presence.
“Bah!!” he yelled. “You lost me my job because I made some precious students cry... the babies!”
Myrtle just stared at him for a moment. The man was clearly quite mad and he sort of had Myrtle cornered in her office. “That’s ridiculous,” she stated firmly, deciding the bold approach was really her only recourse. “You lost your job when you didn’t show up for work and didn’t call. Moreover you screamed at both me and the Dean over the phone. You made your own trouble with your behaviour!”
“Only after you had those students stare at me during my classes!” he accused, hunching his shoulders and taking a step closer.
Myrtle chuckled deeply and glared right back at the man. “You flatter me,” she said. “You make it sound as if I’m running the students by remote control. Well here’s a newsflash: those students were unresponsive to you because they dislike you. I had nothing to do with it. If you want respect from people, you have to show them some. And you didn’t,” she finished in a low voice.
Pelham took another step toward her, then suddenly yelped as a large hand fell upon his arm, squeezed hard and yanked him backwards. Pelham grabbed onto the doorway to regain his balance as a large man stepped between him and Myrtle.
“What business have you here, Pelham?” asked Professor Dilby in a deep, resonating, yet quiet voice that somehow seemed to convey menace.
But Pelham only leaned toward the larger but older man, as if he thought he could intimidate him. “I’ve been called in for a dismissal hearing,” he hissed in his face.
Far from retreating, Professor Dilby leaned even closer to the younger man’s face. “Is this hearing taking place in Myrtle’s office this morning?” he asked in a low and deliberate tone, so much so, it was a little frightening.
“N..n..no,” responded Pelham uncertainly.
“Then . get . out,” said Professor Dilby, slowly and succinctly.
Myrtle’s own heart was pounding. She certainly hadn’t expected the dismissal hearing to take place so soon. The replacements hadn’t even been given a trial run yet. Nor would she have expected to be cornered in her office by Pelham this way. Moreover, she certainly wouldn’t have expected the benign Professor Dilby, in his tweed jacket with suede patches at the elbows, to be her hero. She gave her head a shake, just in case it was all a dream.
The two men seemed frozen in time for a few seconds. Myrtle couldn’t see the look in Professor Dilby’s eyes from where she was, but Pelham’s own eyes had widened and he actually looked quite fearful of the older man. He sort of squirmed away from him in a manner that put Myrtle in mind of a garden snake getting out of the way of a hoe. Professor Dilby followed Pelham’s every move, leaning closer as the younger man squirmed away, until Pelham reached the hallway and walked quickly away. Then Professor Dilby squared his shoulders, cleared his throat and turned slowly back toward Myrtle. He took a deep breath, and smiled.
“Are you all right, Myrtle?” he enquired softly.
“Yes... yes I am,” she smiled, still not sure if it wasn’t all a dream. “Thank you, Professor. I ... I don’t know what he would have done. He clearly isn’t a well man,” she sort of trailed off.
“Delighted to be of service,” said the professor, bowing deeply. Then he chuckled and stood upright. “Could I possibly get an envelope?” he asked softly.
Myrtle could have laughed out loud... possibly a little hysterically. But she held it in and smiled gratefully at the professor, then gave him an envelope.
In fact, Fred was up and around, wondering what to have for breakfast. There was bread, a new toaster, butter, jam and peanut butter, but there were also bananas, eggs, and a couple of different kinds of cereal and milk. There were also waffles in the freezer and syrup. Too many choices, he thought. It was enough to bumfuzzle a sleepy-headed fellow. He noticed that there was coffee and water already in the coffee maker, so he hit the button and decided to give the matter of breakfast a little more thought.
The atmosphere seemed somehow tense at work when Myrtle got there. She looked around and couldn’t really see any reason why it should. She thought maybe it was just her and her rushed morning. Setting her coffee on her desk, she put her purse away in the desk drawer and sat down. Pulling out her work file, she was glancing through it and sipping coffee when a shadow darkened her door. She glanced up into the angry glare of Mr. Pelham.
“I hope you’re satisfied,” he hissed.
Myrtle shrugged. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, quite surprised by his presence.
“Bah!!” he yelled. “You lost me my job because I made some precious students cry... the babies!”
Myrtle just stared at him for a moment. The man was clearly quite mad and he sort of had Myrtle cornered in her office. “That’s ridiculous,” she stated firmly, deciding the bold approach was really her only recourse. “You lost your job when you didn’t show up for work and didn’t call. Moreover you screamed at both me and the Dean over the phone. You made your own trouble with your behaviour!”
“Only after you had those students stare at me during my classes!” he accused, hunching his shoulders and taking a step closer.
Myrtle chuckled deeply and glared right back at the man. “You flatter me,” she said. “You make it sound as if I’m running the students by remote control. Well here’s a newsflash: those students were unresponsive to you because they dislike you. I had nothing to do with it. If you want respect from people, you have to show them some. And you didn’t,” she finished in a low voice.
Pelham took another step toward her, then suddenly yelped as a large hand fell upon his arm, squeezed hard and yanked him backwards. Pelham grabbed onto the doorway to regain his balance as a large man stepped between him and Myrtle.
“What business have you here, Pelham?” asked Professor Dilby in a deep, resonating, yet quiet voice that somehow seemed to convey menace.
But Pelham only leaned toward the larger but older man, as if he thought he could intimidate him. “I’ve been called in for a dismissal hearing,” he hissed in his face.
Far from retreating, Professor Dilby leaned even closer to the younger man’s face. “Is this hearing taking place in Myrtle’s office this morning?” he asked in a low and deliberate tone, so much so, it was a little frightening.
“N..n..no,” responded Pelham uncertainly.
“Then . get . out,” said Professor Dilby, slowly and succinctly.
Myrtle’s own heart was pounding. She certainly hadn’t expected the dismissal hearing to take place so soon. The replacements hadn’t even been given a trial run yet. Nor would she have expected to be cornered in her office by Pelham this way. Moreover, she certainly wouldn’t have expected the benign Professor Dilby, in his tweed jacket with suede patches at the elbows, to be her hero. She gave her head a shake, just in case it was all a dream.
The two men seemed frozen in time for a few seconds. Myrtle couldn’t see the look in Professor Dilby’s eyes from where she was, but Pelham’s own eyes had widened and he actually looked quite fearful of the older man. He sort of squirmed away from him in a manner that put Myrtle in mind of a garden snake getting out of the way of a hoe. Professor Dilby followed Pelham’s every move, leaning closer as the younger man squirmed away, until Pelham reached the hallway and walked quickly away. Then Professor Dilby squared his shoulders, cleared his throat and turned slowly back toward Myrtle. He took a deep breath, and smiled.
“Are you all right, Myrtle?” he enquired softly.
“Yes... yes I am,” she smiled, still not sure if it wasn’t all a dream. “Thank you, Professor. I ... I don’t know what he would have done. He clearly isn’t a well man,” she sort of trailed off.
“Delighted to be of service,” said the professor, bowing deeply. Then he chuckled and stood upright. “Could I possibly get an envelope?” he asked softly.
Myrtle could have laughed out loud... possibly a little hysterically. But she held it in and smiled gratefully at the professor, then gave him an envelope.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Home, Sweet Home
Fred actually had a terrible time getting to sleep, even though he was very tired. In the short time he’d been in the hospital, he’d grown accustomed to sleeping in the adjustable bed, in a slightly reclined position. He tried to get comfortable in his new bed, but it felt hard and flat. He piled all the pillows he could find under his head, but that made his neck hurt a little. It still wasn’t healed completely and he had to be careful how he joggled his head about.
After finally falling asleep, he woke himself up again not long after with his own loud snoring. His head had slipped off the pillows and he’d wound up flat on his back, sprawled across his new bed. Funny, he thought. He’d managed to bother someone with his snoring after all. Himself. He rolled over and groaned loudly. His stomach hurt. He wanted to get up and take some pain killers, and yet he was too tired to move. He wondered vaguely what was on TV at this time of night. Maybe an old National Geographic special, he thought. Maybe a Jacques Cousteau voyage, or a program about whales, he thought. He pictured this in his mind, wondering what it would be like to be aboard the Calypso. It wasn’t long before he drifted back to sleep.
The next morning, Myrtle was there bright and early, bringing coffee and donuts with her for a treat. Fred was still in bed when she got there, but he was wakeful and when he heard the door, he got up, put on his robe and peeped out to make sure it was Myrtle. She was the only other one with a key, but Fred had a landlady walk in on him once when he was having a bath. He’d scrambled out of the tub to see who was invading his apartment. It was hard to say who was more frightened ~ Fred seeing his landlady in his living room, or the landlady seeing Fred in a wet robe with little blobs of suds clinging to his legs. Anyway, he no longer took things like that for granted. He breathed a satisfied sigh when he glimpsed Myrtle setting something down on the dining table, then he turned and slipped into the bathroom, closing the door a bit loudly so she’d know where he was. He didn’t want to startle her the way he had the landlady.
He was very glad to see the coffee and donuts when he came out, and of course, glad to see a smiling Myrtle waiting at the table for him. They enjoyed a nice, relaxed, prolonged breakfast together, then Fred, a creature of habit and training, wondered if he shouldn’t walk around for awhile. Chuckling to herself, Myrtle suggested he go and have a nice, refreshing wash while she took something out of the freezer for their supper later. Obediently, Fred headed for the washroom.
And so Saturday passed in almost boring, yet strangely comfortable domesticity. Fred enjoyed Myrtle’s attention and Myrtle enjoyed looking after him. She reminded Fred that she had to go to work on Monday, so he’d be on his own all day. She’d come by to have supper with him, but he’d have to get his own breakfast and lunch. So she went over with him what foods were in the kitchen so he wouldn’t starve while she was away. After lunch she encouraged Fred to get dressed and go for a very short walk with her down the street outside his apartment building. They didn’t go far. Fred still tired easily, so even though he was eager to be able to walk to where there were shops and that nice little restaurant, there was no way he was going that far yet. They settled for walking to the corner and back again, then rode the elevator back up to Fred’s apartment. With all the challenges of being in his new digs, it was enough.
Myrtle had brought some cards and and a couple of board games with her and she gave Fred the choice of what to play. So until it was time for Myrtle to make their supper, they played cribbage. Then Fred grabbed a nap on the couch while Myrtle worked away in the kitchen. Fred complimented her so much on the supper of chicken pieces, potatoes and broccoli, and how much better it was than hospital food, that Myrtle wondered if he actually hadn’t liked it. But another look at his guileless face and his empty plate convinced her that he was just glad to be out of the hospital.
Sunday passed in much the same way. Myrtle went home for the night a couple of hours after supper on Saturday evening, and showed up again Sunday morning with treats for breakfast. Fred couldn’t help thinking that he could get used to this. He got a slightly better nights’ sleep in his new bed and was up to greet Myrtle on Sunday morning. All and all, it wasn’t a very exciting weekend, but they enjoyed each other’s company, passing the occasional shy but twinkling glance at one another as they learned more about the things they had in common and talked about everything from work, to food, to politics. Fred was very pleased to learn that Myrtle leaned a little to the left politically. His mother was a dyed-in-the-wool Conservative, so he had shied away from the political right his whole adult life. He would have been very disappointed if it turned out that Myrtle shared his mother’s political views. That could have even been a deal-breaker, he thought. By the time Sunday evening rolled around, they were actually both a little weary of the rather intense “sharing.” Myrtle headed for home after a rather ardent kiss from Fred, followed by a rather huge, proud grin from him. She almost couldn’t help laughing, but she only giggled happily, waved and headed out the door.
Once home, Myrtle tidied up and picked out her work clothes for the next day. She was happy with how things were going with Fred, but she also felt a little stressed about it all. What if they got together, she wondered. She liked her little house. Would Fred be willing to move again? Or would he expect her to move into town with him. Luckinbill, she thought. She wondered kind of vaguely if Fred would mind if she didn’t change her name if they got married. She gave her head a shake, then began to wonder if the new teaching assistants for Pelham’s class were going to work out. She felt vaguely panicky about that, certain that the Dean was still somehow holding her responsible for the whole affair. She wondered if it would be acceptable to let the two new young men carry the course through to its conclusion, or if the search for a new instructor would have to continue. She sighed deeply. There was so much going on in her life right now. She felt just a little overwhelmed.
Myrtle decided she needed to relax before trying to sleep, so she made herself a hot cocoa and poured in a liberal shot of brandy, then settled on the couch with a book. She would read until her eyelids grew heavy, then she’d try to get some sleep. A work morning comes early, she thought. And after work, she’d be making Fred another supper. This, she thought, could all get a little exhausting. Yet she smiled happily as she snuggled in and scanned the book for the place she’d left off.
After finally falling asleep, he woke himself up again not long after with his own loud snoring. His head had slipped off the pillows and he’d wound up flat on his back, sprawled across his new bed. Funny, he thought. He’d managed to bother someone with his snoring after all. Himself. He rolled over and groaned loudly. His stomach hurt. He wanted to get up and take some pain killers, and yet he was too tired to move. He wondered vaguely what was on TV at this time of night. Maybe an old National Geographic special, he thought. Maybe a Jacques Cousteau voyage, or a program about whales, he thought. He pictured this in his mind, wondering what it would be like to be aboard the Calypso. It wasn’t long before he drifted back to sleep.
The next morning, Myrtle was there bright and early, bringing coffee and donuts with her for a treat. Fred was still in bed when she got there, but he was wakeful and when he heard the door, he got up, put on his robe and peeped out to make sure it was Myrtle. She was the only other one with a key, but Fred had a landlady walk in on him once when he was having a bath. He’d scrambled out of the tub to see who was invading his apartment. It was hard to say who was more frightened ~ Fred seeing his landlady in his living room, or the landlady seeing Fred in a wet robe with little blobs of suds clinging to his legs. Anyway, he no longer took things like that for granted. He breathed a satisfied sigh when he glimpsed Myrtle setting something down on the dining table, then he turned and slipped into the bathroom, closing the door a bit loudly so she’d know where he was. He didn’t want to startle her the way he had the landlady.
He was very glad to see the coffee and donuts when he came out, and of course, glad to see a smiling Myrtle waiting at the table for him. They enjoyed a nice, relaxed, prolonged breakfast together, then Fred, a creature of habit and training, wondered if he shouldn’t walk around for awhile. Chuckling to herself, Myrtle suggested he go and have a nice, refreshing wash while she took something out of the freezer for their supper later. Obediently, Fred headed for the washroom.
And so Saturday passed in almost boring, yet strangely comfortable domesticity. Fred enjoyed Myrtle’s attention and Myrtle enjoyed looking after him. She reminded Fred that she had to go to work on Monday, so he’d be on his own all day. She’d come by to have supper with him, but he’d have to get his own breakfast and lunch. So she went over with him what foods were in the kitchen so he wouldn’t starve while she was away. After lunch she encouraged Fred to get dressed and go for a very short walk with her down the street outside his apartment building. They didn’t go far. Fred still tired easily, so even though he was eager to be able to walk to where there were shops and that nice little restaurant, there was no way he was going that far yet. They settled for walking to the corner and back again, then rode the elevator back up to Fred’s apartment. With all the challenges of being in his new digs, it was enough.
Myrtle had brought some cards and and a couple of board games with her and she gave Fred the choice of what to play. So until it was time for Myrtle to make their supper, they played cribbage. Then Fred grabbed a nap on the couch while Myrtle worked away in the kitchen. Fred complimented her so much on the supper of chicken pieces, potatoes and broccoli, and how much better it was than hospital food, that Myrtle wondered if he actually hadn’t liked it. But another look at his guileless face and his empty plate convinced her that he was just glad to be out of the hospital.
Sunday passed in much the same way. Myrtle went home for the night a couple of hours after supper on Saturday evening, and showed up again Sunday morning with treats for breakfast. Fred couldn’t help thinking that he could get used to this. He got a slightly better nights’ sleep in his new bed and was up to greet Myrtle on Sunday morning. All and all, it wasn’t a very exciting weekend, but they enjoyed each other’s company, passing the occasional shy but twinkling glance at one another as they learned more about the things they had in common and talked about everything from work, to food, to politics. Fred was very pleased to learn that Myrtle leaned a little to the left politically. His mother was a dyed-in-the-wool Conservative, so he had shied away from the political right his whole adult life. He would have been very disappointed if it turned out that Myrtle shared his mother’s political views. That could have even been a deal-breaker, he thought. By the time Sunday evening rolled around, they were actually both a little weary of the rather intense “sharing.” Myrtle headed for home after a rather ardent kiss from Fred, followed by a rather huge, proud grin from him. She almost couldn’t help laughing, but she only giggled happily, waved and headed out the door.
Once home, Myrtle tidied up and picked out her work clothes for the next day. She was happy with how things were going with Fred, but she also felt a little stressed about it all. What if they got together, she wondered. She liked her little house. Would Fred be willing to move again? Or would he expect her to move into town with him. Luckinbill, she thought. She wondered kind of vaguely if Fred would mind if she didn’t change her name if they got married. She gave her head a shake, then began to wonder if the new teaching assistants for Pelham’s class were going to work out. She felt vaguely panicky about that, certain that the Dean was still somehow holding her responsible for the whole affair. She wondered if it would be acceptable to let the two new young men carry the course through to its conclusion, or if the search for a new instructor would have to continue. She sighed deeply. There was so much going on in her life right now. She felt just a little overwhelmed.
Myrtle decided she needed to relax before trying to sleep, so she made herself a hot cocoa and poured in a liberal shot of brandy, then settled on the couch with a book. She would read until her eyelids grew heavy, then she’d try to get some sleep. A work morning comes early, she thought. And after work, she’d be making Fred another supper. This, she thought, could all get a little exhausting. Yet she smiled happily as she snuggled in and scanned the book for the place she’d left off.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Fred Goes Home
Although it really wasn’t part of her job description, Myrtle spent much of the rest of Thursday calling around for a substitute instructor to oversee Mr. Pelham’s courses. It wasn’t an easy task. Myrtle suspected it was the Dean’s way of punishing her for whatever role she played in all the fuss. The Dean didn’t like interruptions in his routine and he could be very autocratic that way. So Myrtle accepted the task graciously and kept at it. Most certified instructors were either unavailable due to other commitments or were off on some sort of sabbatical. So she changed her approach and found two graduates of the program who’d taken and passed the courses in question. Both were “between jobs” at the moment. One was a little frank about why, but Myrtle suggested he keep it quiet in the interview that he’d accidentally burned down a set while working on a film. She told him to just not bring even a lighter with him to the interview.
Neither of these former students had training to teach, but one, or even both of them could be hired as teaching assistants to get around that. Myrtle arranged for them to come in and speak with Dick Friday morning. Then she notified the Dean’s assistant of this, in case the Dean wanted to meet with them as well.
Having done her best, Myrtle felt a lot better about asking Dick if it would be all right for her to leave early on Friday. Assured that things were looking up, Dick agreed. Myrtle could only hope that at least one of the replacements would fill the bill and nothing would go wrong, requiring Dick to change his mind. She wondered sort of vaguely how many flammable papers were on Dick’s desk, but then gave her head a shake. By the time she left work, she was in a fairly cheerful mood and looking forward to springing Fred from the hospital the next day and looking after him on the weekend.
For his part, Fred was still more or less recovering from Mr. Grieves’ unexpected visit. For some reason, it made Fred feel worrisome about his job. He just had a nagging feeling there were things going on at work he didn’t know about. He tried to put it out of his mind though, because there really wasn’t any point in dwelling on it he kept telling himself. There wasn’t anything he could do about it at the moment. By the time Myrtle showed up, he was very relieved to see her.
They enjoyed their supper together as had become habit, and they chatted about things unimportant, though it would have been clear to any outsider that both were just a little preoccupied and inattentive of the other, since there was a lot of repetition going on. But neither of them seemed to notice, so they babbled their way through the evening until visiting hours were over.
Myrtle slept only fitfully that night, dreaming on and off about strange creatures showing up to interview for the teaching job. One had the body of a mule and the head of Mr. Pelham. Myrtle woke up laughing from that one, the symbolism being all too obvious.
Fred’s own sleep was punctuated by rubber-soled feet running in the hallway and dreams about Mr. Grieves’ huge face leaning over him, tsking away at how sad it all was. Fred did not wake up laughing from that one.
Friday saw them both groggy but a tad excited too. Both the young men who showed up to interview as Pelham stand-ins seemed very bright and confident, though the one Myrtle silently dubbed the “firebug” seemed a little nervous too. Myrtle had already suggested to Dick that if he couldn’t make up his mind, he consider splitting the classes between the two. “It might,” she reasoned, “give them both an opportunity to see if they like to teach, and give you a back-up if one backs out.”
Dick had nodded in somewhat wide-eyed agreement, then went to his office to wait. Myrtle saw the Dean totter by her office just before the due time for the first interviewee. He didn’t stop in to say good morning to Myrtle, which surprised her, leaving her feeling both a little alarmed and a little relieved at the same time. A couple of hours later, Dick came by Myrtle’s office smiling. He and the Dean had decided to hire both young men as temporary teaching assistants. The Dean’s assistant would draw up the employment agreements and the first of the young men would cover Monday’s classes with a copy of the course plan in hand, and any of his own notes from the class he could find. Myrtle breathed a sigh of relief. It would seem that, for now at least, the Pelham affair was over. And Myrtle was off the hook. At least, she hoped so, as she replayed in her mind a sideways glance from the Dean as he passed her office again.
As all this was going on, Fred was out of his hospital bed, struggling to put on his clothes. His stomach still hurt, so bending over to put on his shoes was impossible. Fortunately a nurse showed up to hurry him along and helped him on with his socks and shoes both. Then he got a wheelchair ride to the patient lounge where he sat watching a talk show on TV, feeling just a little as if he’d been kicked out of his home. One of the nurses showed up with a tray for him at lunch time, as arranged. After that, a nurse brought him his instructions for caring for his incision, and his medication to take home. Then he just waited. When Myrtle showed up, he was very happy to see her and very ready to leave the hospital and go home to his new digs.
The logistics of parking the car and helping Fred into his apartment were a little challenging, but once inside with Fred safely on the couch, both started giggling as if they’d gotten away with something. Fred was too excited to nap, so Myrtle showed him where everything was so he could manage when she wasn’t there. Then they chatted until suppertime, when Myrtle made them a homemade meal of spaghetti and meatballs. Fred thought it was the best thing he’d ever eaten, but he got sleepy shortly after, so Myrtle tucked him into bed and went home early. It really had been a tiring day. She’d considered staying over on the couch just in case Fred needed her, but he knew where everything was, was getting around pretty well, and Myrtle wanted to sleep in her own bed. So she promised to be back early the next day to make breakfast, then she headed for home.
Fred was only too happy to be left alone in his own apartment, with his own, new bed, where he could snore his heart out without bothering anyone. Tired, he snuggled in for the night.
Neither of these former students had training to teach, but one, or even both of them could be hired as teaching assistants to get around that. Myrtle arranged for them to come in and speak with Dick Friday morning. Then she notified the Dean’s assistant of this, in case the Dean wanted to meet with them as well.
Having done her best, Myrtle felt a lot better about asking Dick if it would be all right for her to leave early on Friday. Assured that things were looking up, Dick agreed. Myrtle could only hope that at least one of the replacements would fill the bill and nothing would go wrong, requiring Dick to change his mind. She wondered sort of vaguely how many flammable papers were on Dick’s desk, but then gave her head a shake. By the time she left work, she was in a fairly cheerful mood and looking forward to springing Fred from the hospital the next day and looking after him on the weekend.
For his part, Fred was still more or less recovering from Mr. Grieves’ unexpected visit. For some reason, it made Fred feel worrisome about his job. He just had a nagging feeling there were things going on at work he didn’t know about. He tried to put it out of his mind though, because there really wasn’t any point in dwelling on it he kept telling himself. There wasn’t anything he could do about it at the moment. By the time Myrtle showed up, he was very relieved to see her.
They enjoyed their supper together as had become habit, and they chatted about things unimportant, though it would have been clear to any outsider that both were just a little preoccupied and inattentive of the other, since there was a lot of repetition going on. But neither of them seemed to notice, so they babbled their way through the evening until visiting hours were over.
Myrtle slept only fitfully that night, dreaming on and off about strange creatures showing up to interview for the teaching job. One had the body of a mule and the head of Mr. Pelham. Myrtle woke up laughing from that one, the symbolism being all too obvious.
Fred’s own sleep was punctuated by rubber-soled feet running in the hallway and dreams about Mr. Grieves’ huge face leaning over him, tsking away at how sad it all was. Fred did not wake up laughing from that one.
Friday saw them both groggy but a tad excited too. Both the young men who showed up to interview as Pelham stand-ins seemed very bright and confident, though the one Myrtle silently dubbed the “firebug” seemed a little nervous too. Myrtle had already suggested to Dick that if he couldn’t make up his mind, he consider splitting the classes between the two. “It might,” she reasoned, “give them both an opportunity to see if they like to teach, and give you a back-up if one backs out.”
Dick had nodded in somewhat wide-eyed agreement, then went to his office to wait. Myrtle saw the Dean totter by her office just before the due time for the first interviewee. He didn’t stop in to say good morning to Myrtle, which surprised her, leaving her feeling both a little alarmed and a little relieved at the same time. A couple of hours later, Dick came by Myrtle’s office smiling. He and the Dean had decided to hire both young men as temporary teaching assistants. The Dean’s assistant would draw up the employment agreements and the first of the young men would cover Monday’s classes with a copy of the course plan in hand, and any of his own notes from the class he could find. Myrtle breathed a sigh of relief. It would seem that, for now at least, the Pelham affair was over. And Myrtle was off the hook. At least, she hoped so, as she replayed in her mind a sideways glance from the Dean as he passed her office again.
As all this was going on, Fred was out of his hospital bed, struggling to put on his clothes. His stomach still hurt, so bending over to put on his shoes was impossible. Fortunately a nurse showed up to hurry him along and helped him on with his socks and shoes both. Then he got a wheelchair ride to the patient lounge where he sat watching a talk show on TV, feeling just a little as if he’d been kicked out of his home. One of the nurses showed up with a tray for him at lunch time, as arranged. After that, a nurse brought him his instructions for caring for his incision, and his medication to take home. Then he just waited. When Myrtle showed up, he was very happy to see her and very ready to leave the hospital and go home to his new digs.
The logistics of parking the car and helping Fred into his apartment were a little challenging, but once inside with Fred safely on the couch, both started giggling as if they’d gotten away with something. Fred was too excited to nap, so Myrtle showed him where everything was so he could manage when she wasn’t there. Then they chatted until suppertime, when Myrtle made them a homemade meal of spaghetti and meatballs. Fred thought it was the best thing he’d ever eaten, but he got sleepy shortly after, so Myrtle tucked him into bed and went home early. It really had been a tiring day. She’d considered staying over on the couch just in case Fred needed her, but he knew where everything was, was getting around pretty well, and Myrtle wanted to sleep in her own bed. So she promised to be back early the next day to make breakfast, then she headed for home.
Fred was only too happy to be left alone in his own apartment, with his own, new bed, where he could snore his heart out without bothering anyone. Tired, he snuggled in for the night.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
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.
“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.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
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.
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.
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