Tenure Track (23 page)

As the other students mulled how best to respond to this politically incorrect declaration, Kyle spoke up. “Yew got somethun’ against women, Professor?”

“
Only that I married one!” Lewis declared gleefully. “But that won’t be for long.”

Now the young men understood why Lewis had been in such a foul mood. They could all relate to woman troubles, but in the typical fashion of young males, had no intention of acknowledging Lewis’s heartache through emotional self-analysis. Instead, they ordered more beer and shared relationship horror stories, veering into crude jokes they would never have uttered in the presence of females. Kyle went to the old-time jukebox in the corner and ordered up the most pathetic “anti-love” country songs he could find, to which he crooned along with glee. His performance gave Lewis the best laugh he had had in a long time.

Some of the guys offered Lewis tips on how to pick up women now that he was about to be single again, a thought that had not even crossed his mind. He was not sure how much dating rituals had changed in the ten years since he had been with anyone other than Laura, though he did not have the emotional energy to find out anytime soon. At one point when Lewis took off his glasses to rub his bleary eyes, Kyle commented, “Doc, yew should throw them glasses away. Yew look ten years younger without ‘em,” to which another student rejoined, “Dude, you sayin’ you think the doc’s cute?”

“
Hell, no!” replied Kyle, mock defensively. “I ain’t thata way! I just think he’s less ugly without ‘em.”

Laughing at his own expense, Lewis reveled in the opportunity to act like a guy, free from the shackles of political correctness or decorum. It made him realize how much he missed having buddies. For the past several years his social life had centered around Laura, leaving little time for other friends. There were several male members of the faculty whom Lewis might consider friends, but those relationships consisting largely of academic conversations and activities. The closest thing he had to guy friends were his old college buddies, those who had carried him through his darkest times and with whom he still stayed in touch via e-mail. His former roommate, now a respected Wall Street stockbroker, frequently blew off steam by forwarding funny, obscene e-mails to Lewis, a reminder of their former, immature selves.

Here at this table, among these young men who someday wanted to be in his position, he felt like a freshman again, away from his parents for the first time and unsure what to do with his freedom. So he did what most college students would do: he ordered more beer.

He was on his fourth longneck when she walked in. He almost did not recognize Mandy when she took off her overcoat to reveal a white, pirate-style half-blouse, tied below her breasts so as to show off a diamond belly ring surrounded by a flat, firm abdomen. Beneath that was a low-cut black skirt, black pantyhose and low-heeled pumps. She was wearing her hair up, held in place by a clasp in the back of her head. She wore more makeup than usual. Sizing her up in that attire, she looked more than pretty. She looked hot!

Lewis saw her before she saw him. She stood talking to the manager for a moment while tying a short apron around her skirt. As she took out her pad and started to head to a table where some new customers were just sitting down, her eyes caught sight of the familiar face. Walking past his chair towards her customers, she gave a cheerful, “Hi, Dr. Burns! ‘Glad to see you here today,” sounding more like a waitress greeting a regular customer than someone who really knew him.

She was not their assigned waitress, so he did not get a chance to talk to her right away. Someone had flipped on a television set to reveal highlights from the previous evening’s basketball games, slowing the joking and storytelling at his table. With the eyes of his companions occupied, Lewis tried to catch glimpses of Mandy, without staring. He did blatantly gawk once, when she delivered an order with her back towards him. Bending over the table slightly, the waistline of her skirt shifted just enough to expose the top of a tattoo on her lower back. It looked like a heart, surrounded by thorn-like tribal patterns, the bottom half of which disappeared beneath her skirt. He felt his body flush as he wondered where that heart ended. He looked away quickly as she swung around towards the bar.

Kyle and his friends started talking about going to a movie. They asked Lewis to join them, even offering to pay for his ticket, since he had generously sprung for all of their beers and appetizers. Deciding he had had enough male bonding for the night, he declined, noting that he probably needed to put some real food into his stomach before driving home. Still, he was grateful that they had enjoyed his company well enough to continue sharing it for the evening.

Sitting alone, he ordered a cheeseburger and a glass of iced tea from his waitress, who asked, “Is there anything else?”

Seizing an opportunity, he pointed towards Mandy. “Yeah. Can you tell that waitress over there that I need to speak to her when she gets a chance? She’s a student of mine.”

“
Sure,” she said, hoping her aid would increase the size of his tip.

Lewis sat numbly watching the television screen while trying to articulate an appropriate apology. He was still contemplating the proper amount of groveling when his cheeseburger arrived, delivered by Mandy herself. “One cheeseburger with the works,” she announced in her classic waitress voice as she sat the plate down. “Can I get you anything else?”

She pulled out her pad and pencil, as if to take another order. Then she leaned forward and whispered, “I have to look like I’m workin’. It doesn’t look good for the waitresses to sit and chat with people, especially since this isn’t my table.”

Not wanting to waste her time, he forged ahead. “I just wanted to apologize for being short with you this morning. I-I was in a bad mood. I had a fight with my wife last night on the phone and didn’t sleep very well—.”

“
No biggie,” she assured him. “Everybody has bad days. Forget it.”

Her kindness making him feel worse, he ran on, “No, no. I was out of line. It’s just—look, I’m actually getting a divorce, so things are a little crazy right now. Forgive me if I don’t act like myself some days.”

She was thinking that he had no idea how odd he often behaved. Surveying him now, though, he looked kind of cute and pitiful. His hair was extra curly from having dried after his shower; he was wearing a sweatsuit, the first time she had ever seen him in anything other than preppy clothes; and he had a small stain on his shirt from a dropped dollop of salsa.

“
I know,” she said, taking pity on him. “I overheard some folks talkin’ about it in the office.”

No doubt Perry and Isobel,
he thought.
The flying monkey and his wicked witch.

“
For what it’s worth,” she told him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, “I know it sucks.”

Before he could respond, a customer at one of her tables motioned. “Gotta run. Hang in there, Dr. Burns!”

Lewis ate his cheeseburger in silence, still glancing over at her whenever he could. A couple of times their eyes briefly met, but the hardworking waitress focused on her tasks. As the bar started to fill up with customers waiting to hear Punked Out Jobe, Lewis decided to clear his seat, leaving a nice tip for his helpful waitress. He wanted to say something else to Mandy, but stopped himself, deciding to leave her to her work. She paused at the bar to watch as he retreated out the door.

That night Lewis slept very deeply, a combination of exhaustion and alcohol. He also dreamed. For as long as he could recall, all of his erotic dreams involved Laura. He had been faithful even in his sleep. Tonight he dreamed of a heart-shaped tattoo on a lower back. He imagined caressing that tattoo and gently reaching down to feel where the fine point at the bottom touched the top of the indentation between the owner’s buttocks. He dreamed of kissing that tattoo, letting his tongue slip down into the crease and going where it may.

He awoke, bathed in sweat, a familiar dampness covering his pajama pants. He lay there in the darkness, breathing steadily and smiling to himself. He soon drifted off again, enjoying the most glorious night of rest he had had in a long time.

After that night, Lewis’s workplace behavior returned pretty much back to normal, although he was still a little more on edge after talking with his attorney and grimaced every time he passed Perry in the hallways. While Lewis went ahead and hired their will man, Laura secured the “bull dyke lawyer” that Dr. Waters had recommended.

Whether just wanting to avoid another fight, or taking the advice of her attorney, Laura would no longer speak to him. Everything she wanted him to know, she conveyed through her lawyer, whom he also never saw nor spoke to directly. It was just as well that Laura never tried to call, as his old phone numbers no longer worked. After the telephone fight, Lewis retired both their landline and joint cell phone accounts, relying solely on a new cell phone he picked out himself.

He took another step towards independence by adopting a dog. Determined not to invest in some
frou frou purebred that Laura might have selected, he set out in search of the perfect shelter mutt. Walking along the pens of one overcrowded shelter on a Saturday morning, he regretted the wasted years he had spent not offering a home to one of these lost souls, empathizing with his mother’s compassion for strays. After passing by at least a half a dozen pens, he spotted the perfect furry companion. There, in a small outdoor kennel was some creature of unknown origin whose homely appearance reflected possible traits of bulldog, basset hound and about five other sad-looking breeds. The shelter workers said that the male dog, whom they estimated to have been about two years old, had been found scavenging food behind a local BBQ restaurant. He was very people-friendly, but so far his less-than-attractive appearance had deterred many would-be owners.

Lewis immediately liked the creature, who left a trail of slobber as he eagerly licked the professor’s hand through the chain-link gate. As Lewis listened to the shelter worker describe the adoption process and fees, he glanced over to see the dog raise up one leg and lazily lick his private parts as if he had absolutely nothing better to do.
Yep,
Lewis thought,
this is a guy dog!

Lewis’s furry new roommate settled in quickly, rejecting the newly purchased dog pillow for a more comfortable spot under the covers of the big bed at his master’s feet. Having a warm body nearby was rather comforting, although it took Lewis a few nights to get used to the noisy sound of his roommate’s snoring. The mongrel’s somnolent wheeze brought forth visions of Darth Vader with a head cold. As Lewis bonded with his companion, he struggled over what to name the creature. It needed to be a guy name, but something that fit a dog, like “Duke,” “Spike,” or “Butch.” Yet none of those truly seemed to fit this four-legged cur’s personality

Overall, he was a very well-behaved canine, but seemed a bit bored at home all by himself, as he informed Lewis by turning a pair of wingtips into chew toys on his first full day alone. Deciding that his furry friend needed more socialization, Lewis impulsively brought him to work the next morning—Valentine’s Day.

This would be his first lovers’ holiday in years as a single man, reminding him why he used to think it was the most evil of holidays, designed by greeting card companies to make single people feel especially bad about their loneliness and couples feel inadequate about their own celebrations. Of course, for the university community, the date was permanently stained as a time for mourning rather than celebration. The third anniversary of Bloody Valentine’s Day would be marked by memorial services and earnestness, but less palpable grief than the previous two years. Lewis decided that this morning when he paused his lecture at 10:23 a.m. to remember the fallen, he would also pray for
all
lonelyhearts and lovers for whom this day would generally suck.

He left early so that the duo could walk to campus on the cool but clear morning. His only classes that day were graduate seminars or small upper-division courses, so he thought he might even bring the little nipper for show and tell with his students.

Lewis’s Valentine’s date was eager and frisky as they began their trek, running ahead most of the time, then slowing down considerably after a couple of steep hills. By the time they reached the university, Lewis was practically dragging the mutt behind him. Almost without thinking, the professor started telling his companion all about the school, offering a canine campus tour. He explained differences in various styles of architecture, marking aesthetic trends over time, along with the contributions of various campus leaders whose profiles were cast in bronze around the Commons. The creature did not seem particularly impressed, however he did not seem to object, either, panting and drooling in the same unchanging manner until they reached Hammond.

Walking into the faculty lounge, Isobel shot a disapproving glare at the mongrel, making Lewis begin to debate the wisdom of his impulsive decision to bring him. At that moment, Sheila Stevens and Blanca Dejean walked by and stopped in their tracks. Lewis could overhear Blanca whisper none-too-quietly, “Ech! That is one butt-ugly dog.”

Dr. Stevens was more tactful. “Do we have a guest with us today, Dr. Burns?” Feeling like a kid caught sneaking an unwanted puppy into his bedroom, Lewis sheepishly explained who his new companion was.

“
What is his name?” Dr. Stevens asked, much to his surprise, leading to the confession that the dog did not have an official moniker. “Well, that will not do at all,” she chastised. “Every creature must have a proper name.” With that, the imposing scholar leaned one hand on her cane and bent at the waist, just far enough for the dog’s tongue to reach her fingers for a friendly lick. Blanca’s eyes reflected as much shock as Lewis’s.