by N. C. Lewis
"Sorry I'm late," bellowed Professor Bingham, scurrying into the room.
I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them. I expected to see him stagger around and fall over, but the man was remarkably sober, his eyes bright and voice clear. At the lectern, he shuffled through a stack of papers, momentarily glanced at the top sheet, then began.
"It would be remiss of me not to mention that Medlin Creek Community College is a joyous place to work. I'm sure before we get too involved in today's meeting we can all agree on that."
There was a general murmur of agreement followed by a polite round of clapping.
Professor Bingham raised a hand, signaling it was time to end the applause. "Wonderful, wonderful. Now, I have an important surprise today. But before I get to that I'd like to know why, oh why, won't the college authorities expand the staff parking area? There is ample space at the front of the building if they would only move the disabled spaces to the general student parking area. I'm sure y'all agree that as the backbone of this institution we deserve better spaces."
Professor Bingham paused pushing his glasses up his nose and glancing around the room.
Silence.
Ava jumped to her feet. "Absolutely," she cried clapping her hands together.
Silence.
Ava glanced nervously around the room, raised her hands high and continued to clap. Like well-fed seals at show time, others got to their feet, their hands smacking together like the distant rumble of a growing storm.
It reminded me of the weekly executive meetings I used to attend in my corporate days in New York City. The boss would make a suggestion, any suggestion, and employees would jump up cheering and shouting joyously, even if the idea was ridiculous. He who shouted the quickest and loudest was likely to do very well in their next employee evaluation.
"Remarkably insightful suggestion," yelled Dan Sweet shouting over the noise.
Ava stared at Professor Bingham with a dazzling smile. "Amazing!" she said in a soft whisper.
Within minutes everyone was on their feet except Andy Arrow. He sat with his arms crossed glaring in turn at Dan Sweet and Ava Torgersen.
"So kind… so kind," grinned Professor Bingham. "That brings me to the delicate matter of student feedback. The results from last semester are in." His eyes narrowed, and he began to breathe noisily. "Five out of ten! That's what they scored my lectures—"
Dan Sweet opened his mouth but was too late.
"Disgraceful," interrupted Ava, again getting to her feet.
Dan scowled.
Professor Bingham smiled. "It will not be a surprise to you, that the average grade for the entire department is four out of ten. What do you make of that?"
Silence.
"I'll tell you," continued Professor Bingham working himself up into a lather. "Interest! Students these days seem to hold to the notion that it is our job to make the lectures engaging and interesting. To… ignite their interest in our subjects."
"Disgraceful!" cried Dan and Ava jumping up at the same time.
Just then the door opened. An elderly gentleman with gray hair, wearing a dark, pinstriped suit and shiny, patent-leather shoes, appeared. He stood in the doorway for a moment, with his wrists crossed at the waist. Then he strode into the room. Behind him bustled catering staff, dressed in black.
"Ah!" said Professor Bingham. "Our surprise and afternoon snacks have arrived at the same time. Doctor Tobias will deliver a short presentation on campus safety. But let's take a ten-minute, snack-and-chat break. We are using a new catering contractor today, and the food looks delicious."
Professor Bingham hurried over to Doctor Tobias, and the two men chatted quietly. Ava trotted behind trying to capture Professor Bingham's attention. Others got to their feet and left the room.
Chapter 12
The catering team bustled around like ants building a nest. A stooped, old man with a grizzled white beard and wild blue eyes hurried into the room. He set up a long table helped by an excitable young man with spiky, pink hair and a tattoo of a lion on his neck. A stout woman dressed in a black business suit filled the table with snacks.
There were neatly trimmed sandwiches, fruit, cookies, slices of ham, cheese, and deliciousness on tiny sticks—chicken with cubed cheese, ham with pineapple, battered fish dipped in a sweet and spicy sauce. Then a tall, thin man with a bushy, gray beard set down a large container of hot water with a choice of teas at one end of the table. At the other, he placed two pots of coffee, bottled water, and soda.
When they had finished I surveyed the table, grabbed a ham sandwich, a chocolate chip cookie, and poured hot water into a china cup over a Chai tea loose-leaf bag.
"Oh my gosh, Ollie!"
I swiveled around. It was Millie. She wore a black blouse with matching pants and slip-on catering shoes. Over her shoulder, she carried a black handbag.
"Whoa Millie, what…" Then I remembered her new job.
"Can you believe it!" said Millie with excitement. "My first-ever catering job, and it's at Medlin Creek Community College with you!" Millie's mouth hung open, and her eyes were wide. "It must be a sign from the universe."
"You think so?" I said, nibbling my sandwich.
"I read in a book or was it on a podcast… anyway, when a coincidence like this happens you have to be very careful."
"Why?" I took another bite of the sandwich realizing I was hungry, and it was good.
"'Cause such points mark a split," Millie replied snatching up a handful of the deliciousness on sticks.
"A split?"
She covered her eyes with one hand, and with the other shoveled in the petite kababs. "Mmm, yummy this is good! "
"Sure is," I agreed, "but what about the split?"
She chewed for a moment. "The split is either positive or negative. If you make the wrong choice, you end up on the negative side of the split and terrible things happen for the next day or so, or until the next split. Then you get to choose again."
Now she had lost me. "I see," I said, nodding, although I didn't.
Millie tossed the empty sticks to one side and grabbed up another handful. "Ollie, my hands are full; can you pour a coffee? I need a caffeine shot."
"Watkins! What are you doing?" hissed a wiry man dressed in black with a shaved head, tiny eyes, and a golden badge on his lapel that read Perry Perkins, Catering Supervisor.
Millie shoveled in another handful. "Sorry, sir," she muttered munching fast.
Perkins jabbed a finger in the air. "The food is for the guests. Servers are here to serve, not dine."
"Sure thing," Millie replied with bits of food falling from her mouth.
"Go clean up the plates from the other side," ordered Perry.
"Yes sir," said Millie giving me a little wave as she dashed away.
The general volume of conversation had risen. There appeared to be no urgency to return to the meeting. I glanced around the room. Andy Arrow and Dan Sweet stood in front of each other with their legs spread apart and their arms folded over their chests. Their body language wasn’t friendly.
Professor Andy Arrow took a small step toward Dan. "I'm staying right here!" he exploded, causing everyone to glance in his direction. With a dramatic flourish, he pulled out another sheet of pink paper from his pocket and pointed a bony finger at Dan Sweet. "What is the meaning of this? I'm sick to death of your underhanded tricks. I'm sick to death of you."
Now the entire room was watching. Professor Bingham adjusted his glasses. Doctor Tobias stepped toward the two men. Ava rested a calming hand on his arm. I couldn’t read her expression. It wasn’t a smile, and it wasn’t not a smile. It was the kind of look you could guess at and have a fifty-fifty chance of getting right. But if I had to guess, I'd say she was grinning.
Dan turned to leave. "Let's discuss the matter at your retirement party. I'm going to the restroom."
"No! Stand still and listen to me," spat Andy putting a restraining hand on Dan's shoulder. "I'm not retiring and even if I do, you'll no
t get my post. Professor Bingham has someone else in mind."
The words seemed to ignite something in Dan for he exploded with rage. "Retire now you randy, old goat or I'll—"
Lightning gashed the sky, instantly followed by a rush of thunder that sounded like a truckload of stones smashed against the meeting room windows. It drowned out all sound. The room darkened.
Dan shook off Andy's restraining grasp. Then his eyes filled with fire and as wild as a savage bear, seized Andy by the throat. The two men struggled, twisting and turning, making it hard to see what was happening until it was too late. As another flash of lightning streaked across the sky, Professor Andy Arrow let out a terrifying howl, staggered back two steps, then fell to the floor.
For a moment the entire room, stunned into immobility, stared at the two men. Professor Arrow lay sprawled on the floor with Professor Sweet standing over him like a victorious Roman gladiator. There was no movement from Andy, his plump body lay still, his small eyes wide open, and his mouth twisted into a snarl. He also sported a deep purple bruise on his neck and lower jaw.
Then everyone began to yell at once.
"Look, look!" shouted the stooped, old man with the grizzled white beard, his wild blue eyes even wilder.
"My Lord, they ain't paying me enough for this," yelled the stout woman dressed in black business attire.
"More violence among academics than in the movies," hollered the tall, thin man with a bushy, gray beard. "They gotta pay us danger money or else I'm quitting."
"It's nothing but lawlessness in Medlin Creek now the sheriff's out of town," huffed the excitable young man with spiky pink hair and a tattoo of a lion on his neck. "Man, you're not safe anywhere these days."
Now, everything seemed to happen at once. Doctor Tobias hurried forward, knelt by the body and checked for a pulse and breathing. At the same time, someone dialed the sheriff's department, and another person called emergency medical services. Professor Bingham grabbed Dan by the arm and led him to a seat. He was shaking.
After what felt like several seconds, but must have been minutes, Doctor Tobias looked up and shook his head. "There's no vital signs. Andy Arrow is dead."
A roar of thunder, and the sharp onslaught of rain pelted against the meeting room window drowning out the screams that ripped from Dan Sweet's throat:
"Arrgh, arrgh, arrgh!" over and over again. I didn't blame him. I could see the terror of understanding in his wide eyes. It was awful.
Hours seemed to go by though I daresay it was only a few minutes before the deputies arrived. They tugged at Dan Sweet's arms. He took a deep breath, and for a moment appeared as if he would fight, then his shoulders sagged.
As the deputies led him away, his eyes filled with tears.
"My God no! Andy Arrow attacked me. It was self-defense. Y'all saw it. I'm a good person. No! No! No!"
Chapter 13
The deputies took their time gathering statements. One by one they questioned those who remained in the room. The catering team, except for Millie, slipped away shortly after the first officer, Deputy Dingsplat, arrived. Many of the professors did the same. They knew if they didn’t, like I, would have to hang around for hours.
Around midnight I finally pulled into the driveway at Ealing Homestead. A starless, inky-black sky filled with a weak-yellow moon cast long shadows as I hurried through the little iron gate to the front door. Bodie barked and yelped as I went inside.
"Poor Bodie; poor doggy, I left you at home inside all day, got to get you an outdoor kennel or something."
Bodie yapped and barked as if he agreed. I let him outside then hurried to the kitchen to refill his water and food bowls. At the kitchen table, I slumped into a chair, placed my head in my hands, closed my eyes, and for a moment succumbed to weariness. It would be so easy to surrender to sleep right here at the kitchen table. But I forced my eyes open and focused on the death of Andy Arrow.
The whole incident had played out before a room full of people. What had happened seemed obvious. Dan Sweet attacked Andy with such violent force that the old professor succumbed to the brutal injuries and died. A room full of witnesses all agreed; we all saw the same thing. Homicide usually isn’t subtle I thought as I rubbed my eyes.
Deputy Dingsplat's past comments resounded in my head. "Most of the time, with murder, you don’t have far to look." In this case, the only person we're looking at is Dan Sweet, and we've got him. The case will wrap up when Sheriff Hays returns to town on Saturday. Guess, we'll keep a "holding pattern' until then."
At the front door, I called Bodie. The hound scampered into the kitchen, took a slurp of water and curled up in his dog bed. In the bathroom I stepped into the shower and lingered in the hope the hot water would wash away the memories of a painful day. Alas, it didn’t. If anything, the memory somehow intensified causing a sour sensation to flood my stomach.
I took two pills and climbed into bed. I hardly remembered falling asleep. My last thoughts were about Dan Sweet and whether he would spend the rest of his life in prison. If I came to a conclusion about him, I don't remember anything about it. But I'll never forget the dream I had that clung in vivid colors in my mind as I woke up.
Under an orange moon, I sat on a long bench sipping hot tea from a delicate bone china cup. A huge spider, fat, with small eyes and a large mouth, jumped out of the china cup. The insect began spinning a silken web, all the while its soulless dark eyes scrutinized my face. Somehow, it seemed to grow larger as it spun each silken thread as if drawing energy from some unseen source.
Within minutes it was the size of my face, and I could see its evil eyes rotating in their sockets. I let out a scream, but no words came out, only a sawdust dry, "Arrgh!"
As I got up to run, a soft arm slipped around my waist holding me fast in place. Again, I tried to scream, this time nothing came out. I swiveled around to see John smiling down into my face.
Sometimes my late husband comes to me in my dreams. It's not scary, just comforting. When he visits, I sense he is at peace even though his last moments were filled with the terror of being held hostage in an inferno. I snuggled tight against his chest. He bent his head and whispered something into my ear. The tone was urgent, but I couldn’t make out the words.
Frustrated, his face crumpled into a frown, and he pointed back toward the china cup and the spider. The web was complete, but the spider was gone. The silken creation shimmered like a rainbow under the orange moonlight. For several moments I stared hard at it. Then I saw it. A silken thread in the center of the web spelled out a single word in capital letters—"TOXIC."
I knew I had been dreaming and sat up in bed wide awake wondering what to make of it. They say a dream is your subconscious trying to tell you something important. After several minutes I lay back down on the pillow but spent the rest of the night with my thoughts.
Chapter 14
I rolled out of bed close to nine with a headache and a sour stomach. The sky was full of heavy, gray clouds when I let Bodie outside. "Looks like a repeat of yesterday," I muttered as the dog trotted along the dirt path.
It had been an uneasy sleep, and I was still groggy when I sat at my desk to review the list for the day.
10 a.m. Coffee with Millie.
12:30–5 p.m. Teaching.
7 p.m. Dojo.
Today, I thought, as I reviewed the list, I will eat proper food. No snacking, no alcohol, and exercise at the dojo. After a hot shower, I was awake and eager to catch up with Millie.
◆◆◆
I strolled into Moozoos a little after ten a.m. The little café smelled of a delicious combination of yeasty baked bread with the earthy scent of freshly brewed coffee. The place was empty.
"Weather's keeping the tourists away," explained the assistant barista. "Martin, the boss, has gone to visit with Gratia, so I'm on my own this morning. I guess they are comparing notes about the unfortunate death of Andy Arrow."
"Suppose so," I replied, not wanting to discuss the subject.
I nodded.
The assistant barista leaned his arms on the counter. "Must have been like watching one of those kung fu movies."
"Eh?" I replied, confused.
The assistant continued. "They say Professor Arrow landed a jumping, spinning kick into Dan Sweet's torso. Then Dan staggered around gasping for breath. Everyone thought it was over, but Dan recovered at the last moment to throw a desperate kung fu strike at Professor Arrow's neck. Killed him instantly. That kung fu is deadlier than Hulk Hogan in his prime. Is it true it took ten deputies to subdue Dan?"
"Oh, now that is going a bit too far. Dan went quietly. Now, I'd like a medium house brew," I said trying to steer the conversation into safer ground. Right now, I didn’t want to think about Andy Arrow, or Dan Sweet, or death, or murder. All I wanted was a hot coffee.
"Coming up!"
The assistant barista hummed as he prepared the drink. It was a merry little tune, the type one hums when all is well with the world. I wanted to hum along with him, but deep down I knew something wasn't right. I just didn’t know what.
"Millie will be here in a few minutes. This one's on her," I said taking the drink and heading toward my favorite seat by the window.
As I sipped coffee and stared blankly out onto Creek Street, my mind kept wandering back to the events of yesterday. Dan Sweet had an attitude problem—there was little doubt about that. Despite his short stature, big eyes, and small mouth that made him look like a friendly elf, Dan was arrogant, offensive, manipulative, and repulsive. I didn’t like the man, but something niggled in the back of my mind, something Professor Bingham had said.
