by Jared Stone
Lucian swallowed what was in his mouth and tried to collect himself to answer coherently. “Fine,” he responded, unable to break the eye contact between the upper classman and himself. “The classes seem pretty good overall. One is much harder than the rest because of the professor, but I’ll be okay.” He smiled modestly and could feel that his face was getting hot, which probably meant that he was blushing. Lucian hated how awkward he could be sometimes.
“That’s good,” Sam responded with a big smile that made Lucian blush even more. As the older boy reached down and began cutting his food, Lucian noticed that the food on Sam’s tray was identical to his own. There were several choices up there that night, but it appeared that they both had chosen the same ones. That’s a good sign, Lucian reasoned while letting a small smile escape onto his face.
After taking a few bites himself, Sam reengaged in conversation. “Well, Lucian, I just wanted to let you know that, if you need anything, I’m here for you.” Pausing for a minute while Lucian looked back at him with an intrigued look, Sam then continued. “I know this year might be a little tough on you with no roommate, and I see you sitting and eating alone a lot. If you’re ever looking to branch out and meet some people, I’d be more than happy to introduce you to some. Or join the frat! We’re still taking new members, and that’s a great place to meet people!”
Ah, so that’s his angle, Lucian thought to himself with disappointment. Lucian had a preconceived aversion to fraternities; he thought that they were very much like cults, only less mysterious and more idiotic. Though he had had no personal experience with them himself, he had seen enough in television and movies to feel confident in his perspective. In Lucian’s eyes, they were nothing but an excuse to get drunk and band together with other dimwits to reaffirm each other’s coolness and help one another feel validated. Overall, he had no desire to join.
“I’ll think about it,” Lucian lied, smiling politely. Not even the allure of being closer to Sam could convince him to make that commitment.
“Great!” exclaimed Sam with a big grin. “I think you’d fit in really well! And I know that I’d love to have you join!” Lucian was a little taken aback by this last statement, and he didn’t know if he was reading too deeply into it, or if Sam was even being genuine.
Sam pushed out his chair and stood up. Grabbing his tray, he said, “Well, I’m done!” Lucian looked down at the older boy’s plates. He had only eaten a few bites of his meal, and hadn’t even touched any of the glorious cake. Lucian was too bashful to ask if he could have Sam’s piece as well, though, so he stayed silent. Still, he thought it was a real pity to see such a thing go to waste…. “It’s been great seeing you, Lucian,” Sam added with conviction.
“You too,” said Lucian softly as he gazed at the upper classman. Sam gave Lucian a parting perfect smile and walked away from the table to empty his tray into the trash and leave. Lucian sat there silently, running through what had just happened in his head and wishing he possessed more confidence when it came to chatting with attractive boys.
3 - Encounter
Tuesday, September 23rd
“Which one among you is Mr. Aarden?” Schuntz’s razor sharp words vibrated through the high ceilings of the hall as the students were preparing to leave class that morning.
Lucian’s stomach sank when he heard this, and he abruptly stopped his packing and froze. He couldn’t imagine why Schuntz would single him out in such a way. He had hoped to make it through the class without that particular professor ever learning his name, as he imagined such a circumstance could only cause more trouble for him. He looked around quickly, on the off chance that some other unlucky student shared his last name, but he encountered no such good fortune. Sheepishly, he raised his hand.
“That’s me, sir,” Lucian said, speaking loudly so his voice would carry from his typical position in the second grouping of chairs down to the stage at the front of the hall.
Looking directly at the boy for the first time since the class had started, Schuntz said, “Please come down here, Mr. Aarden. I would like to have a word with you.”
Once again, Lucian felt a knot twisting deep inside of him. Swallowing hard to suppress his visceral reaction to being summoned by the professor, he stuffed the remainder of his things into his bag and stood up to approach the stage. He slid past several empty chairs and stepped out into the aisle. As he walked down the sloped floor to the front of the stage, he imagined that Chopin’s Funeral March should be his musical accompaniment to capture the mood of this journey to his demise. Willow passed by him on her way out of the classroom. Her hair streak and eye shadow were pink that day, but she thankfully had the good sense to break the color pallet with blue contacts. She met his gaze moment-arily and only raised her eyebrows once quickly, which Lucian interpreted as a wish of good luck…, though she very well might have been enjoying his misfortune instead.
Coming to the front of the stage, Lucian reluctantly climbed up the three wooden stairs to stand next to Professor Schuntz. The professor had been packing up his things into a black shoulder bag on the floor as Lucian approached, but he stood back up to his naturally imposing stature when the boy arrived. Lucian hadn’t before realized how tall Schuntz was, but standing next to him finally allowed Lucian to determine that the professor stood even an inch or two taller than he did. This difference was only accentuated by the professor’s superior posture.
“Mr. Aarden,” said Schuntz as he looked the boy in the eye unwaveringly. His commanding presence made Lucian feel very small and intimidated – a sensation he did not often experience in his life. The boy stood there as if he was literally petrified. “I would like to see you in my office in the Religion Department in approximately thirty minutes. Would you be able to do that?”
“Y-Yes” stammered Lucian in affirmation.
“Splendid,” responded Schuntz with a cold severity that did not match his choice of words. “There is something I wish to discuss with you. Do you know where the Religion Department building is located, Mr. Aarden?”
Lucian swallowed again before speaking up. “I don’t think so, sir,” he replied. Lucian had never been in the habit of calling anyone “sir” in his life, but he felt inexplicably compelled to do so with Professor Schuntz.
“It is located three buildings to the west of here. It is rather diminutive in size and will be labeled ‘Center for Religious Studies.’ I believe that I may rely on your acute powers of observation to assist you.”
Lucian hesitated for a second, not sure whether this last assertion was a question or sarcastic jab, but he finally responded with, “Yes sir.”
“I will see you in thirty minutes, then, Mr. Aarden,” said the professor as he very deliberately placed the strap of his black bag onto his shoulder and walked away from the boy and out the exit. Lucian paused for a moment and pretended to look at something on his phone before leaving through the same door himself.
* * *
Lucian exited the theater and quickly found the Religion Department without trouble. He first had to use the map app on his phone to figure out which way was West, but, after that had been established, Schuntz’s precise instructions were easy to follow. Lucian spent the twenty minutes of extra waiting time sitting on a bench he had passed along the way. The sun that day was bright, and it was very pleasant to sit there and soak up its warm rays. The horrible, repurposed theater which held Schuntz’s class had no windows, and the whole class period felt more like sitting in a dark prison camp than a classroom…, especially with the warden who taught it. Lucian closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to calm his restless nerves, which were now dancing wildly in anticipation of the upcoming rendezvous with Schuntz.
About five minutes before their scheduled meeting time, Lucian stood up from the bench and walked over to the front door of the Religion Department. The building was certainly small: only two stories high and very thin, barely fitting even a single room on either side of the central entrance. It was
also clearly very old – maybe even older than the fallout shelter theater – and the once-white window lattices had turned brown, with paint flaking off in long, curling tongues. The outside of the building was entirely brick, which did not show the long passage of time to such an evident extent. Yet, even these bricks were darkened and soiled by the many years, and it was apparent to all who passed by that the department housed within was not of particularly high priority to whoever made placement decisions on the University board.
If Lucian thought the exterior of the building looked ancient, it was nothing compared to what he found inside. Passing through the creaking, crooked, green door, Lucian stepped into what appeared to be a wormhole to the 18th Century. The entranceway floor that stretched down the hallway was a dark brown wood which groaned underneath his feet with every step. The walls encasing the very tight passage were simply eggshell in color, though Lucian felt that they had, ages ago, been pure white. Four doors could be seen, two on either side of the hall, and a rickety old wooden staircase to Lucian’s right ascended to the upper floor. Several bulletin boards hung from the walls, and, on them, countless flyers were stacked, one atop another, with pushpins barely able to hold the mass of paper to the cork-board beneath. The smell which invaded Lucian’s nostrils was old and dusty, like that of cleaning out a grandparent’s attic.
To Lucian’s left, a directory was hung on the wall, and this appeared to be the newest item in the entire building – its shiny gold lettering serving as a guiding light to an otherwise bewildered traveler. Lucian found Schuntz’s office on the board, which directed him to the second door on the left side of the first floor. Once there, he took a deep breath and released it to dispel his stress. He then reached up and knocked twice against the wood of the door. “Enter,” Schuntz’s steely voice commanded from within. Lucian turned the knob, hesitantly pushed the door open, and entered the room.
Schuntz’s office was unlike anything Lucian had ever seen outside of a library. Each of the four walls were lined with giant oak bookshelves that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. Every space on these shelves had been taken up with a book so that one could not see a single deviation from the endless continuum of multicolored spines. The works were not modern novels, but rather seemed to be ancient relics of times long past. Aside from the walls, a series of tables had been set up to hold the overflow from the shelves, and anything remaining beyond that was simply stacked in vertical piles upon the floor. The office even held the musty, characteristic smell of an old book, but Lucian found he actually enjoyed this nostalgic scent very much. It reminded him of better, simpler times as a child in elementary school, when he would go with his mom to the local used book store and search around the cluttered shelves for books on ancient mythology.
Schuntz was sitting behind his desk with his back perfectly straight upon an uncomfortable-looking wooden chair. The surface of his workspace was cluttered with several books, of course, along with a stack of papers upon which Schuntz was writing. Probably a collection of students’ essays, Lucian reasoned. Behind the professor, high-pitched flute music issued out of somewhere. Lucian couldn’t see any radio there, but it was perfectly conceivable that such a device was hidden among the towers of tomes. Lucian did not immediately recognize the song, but he felt as though he had heard it before.
“Ah, Mr. Aarden,” Schuntz said as the boy entered the office. “Please, come and sit.” The professor motioned toward the chair that stood opposite his, across the desk. Lucian quietly walked over and placed himself upon the seat.
Schuntz sat there for a moment, looking at Lucian in silence. His stern face held no hints of the reason for calling the boy to his office, and Lucian waited nervously, guessing at the myriad scenarios which could unfold.
“Do you enjoy music, Mr. Aarden?” Schuntz asked suddenly. Lucian was taken completely off guard by this seemingly random inquiry.
“Yes, I do, sir,” the boy responded. “I think it’s very relaxing and great to listen to.” That was the best thing Lucian could think to say, but he immediately realized that it sounded very elementary and trivial. In all honesty, Lucian would never have considered himself particularly knowledgeable when it came to most genres of music. He had grown up primarily listening to the radio in the car and at home, which invariably cycled through five of the same pop songs for about a month at a time before changing its playlist to the five new hit songs to play ad nauseam. What the American populace considered enjoyable was certainly fun to sing along to, but it also offered very little in terms of musical quality. Lucian found himself at a loss for vocabulary when discussing the finer points of style and the merits of any musical score.
“Indeed,” replied Schuntz with one eyebrow raised in obvious disdain for Lucian’s ill-fated attempt. “Music is one of the greatest forces in the world, Mr. Aarden. It encompasses an inalterable harmony which unites all that is the same in this universe. Ritual, on the other hand, represents an unchanging rite which highlights the differences. Through these two forces, man’s temperament is regulated and existence is brought into balance. Music and ritual reform the people, and, without them, there would be chaos.”
Lucian could do nothing but absently stare at the professor and slowly nod his head. Even though he didn’t comprehend what Schuntz was trying to say, he surely didn’t want to disagree with him on it.
“I assume that you wish to know why I have called you here today, Mr. Aarden,” Schuntz continued, thankfully without asking for the boy’s input on the previous matter.
“You can just call me Lucian, sir,” Lucian said with a smile. He was hoping to show a friendlier side to the professor, with the goal of softening any future interactions between them. But, much to his dismay, Schuntz’s face scowled even more than usual.
“And why should I do that, Mr. Aarden?” he asked sternly. “Your family’s name is one of the most important aspects of your existence. It holds within it the legacy, pride, and accomplishments of your ancestors, without whom you would not be. You should feel fortunate to carry within you the honor of those who came before you.”
“Oh,” was all Lucian could think to say in response. The professor and student then sat there in awkward silence for a moment.
“But, to the matter at hand, Mr. Aarden,” Schuntz said suddenly, cutting through the discomfort with-out flinching. “I have had the opportunity to read your most recent essay….”
As he said this, he flipped through the pile upon his desk and withdrew from it a stapled collection of papers from the middle. Lucian’s stomach sank again. That was why he had been asked to come to the office: because his writing and ideas were sub-standard.
“It was actually quite… cultivated,” Schuntz stated with a hint of surprise that would have been almost insulting to Lucian…, if the boy had not been even more astonished than the professor.
“Really!?” Lucian blurted out without thinking.
“Yes, really…,” Schuntz affirmed without humor. The man’s unaffected attitude served to effectively squash Lucian’s enthusiasm for the time being, and he stayed silent as the professor continued. “Your writing displayed insights and perspectives unusual for someone of your limited age and experience. It appears that you have some innate comprehension of forces greater than yourself.”
Lucian attempted to suppress a beaming smile from breaking out across his face, but he could feel just the edge of it peeking out from the corner of his mouth. He was very proud of this accomplishment, especially from someone as demanding as Schuntz. At the same time, there was a twinge of guilt which lingered in the background as he reminded himself that he had written to please the professor, not to remain faithful to his own sentiments.
“As you might know,” Schuntz continued, “I serve as the head of the Religion Department. I wonder, Mr. Aarden, if you have given any thought to your choice of a major yet.”
Lucian paused for a moment, not entirely knowing how to respond. He had given it some thought, but it seemed t
hat his grandiose plans for the future and his greatest subjects of interest changed drastically on an almost daily basis. He had not yet chosen a definite major, but he reasoned that there was still plenty of time, having only just started school.
“I have not, sir,” Lucian replied meekly. “Well, I have thought about it…, but I’m still not sure yet.”
“I see...” said Schuntz, placing his elbows on the arms of his chair and folding his hands on his desk. “Well, Mr. Aarden, I would strongly encourage you to give some thought toward a major in Religious Studies. It appears you have a gift for contemplation of a greater sort, and it would truly be a pity to see that ability wasted.”
Lucian almost laughed. Of course I don’t want to be a Religion major! I wanna make money. Get a great and important job. Go out and do something with my life! None of that can be accomplished with a major in Religious Studies!
“I’ll think about it, sir,” Lucian responded with a smile, so as not to alert the professor to his distaste for the very notion. Thinking back on his previous conversation with Sam, Lucian realized that he had probably been deceptive in his answers too often recently. I’ll have to try being more genuine with the people around me in the future…, he noted in his head.
“Wonderful,” said Schuntz with a slight inflection of his voice that was, honestly, the most excited Lucian had ever seen him. “Please come and speak to me when you have determined for certain.”
With this, Lucian stood up and nodded his head at the professor. “Yes, sir,” he said. Schuntz nodded briefly in return before picking up the top paper of the pile and beginning to read the first page. Lucian took this as his cue to exit, so he grabbed his things and walked back out through the office door.
