A Gothic Lesson in Love

by Curtis Bennett

  Irene pivoted in her chair expecting the professor but was surprised to see that it was Mildred. She stood up and immediately helped her place the bags on the counter.

  “How are yah, lass?” Mildred greeted her. “I see you have taken a liking to the professor.”

  “He’s not as scary as I thought,” Irene said as the two hugged. “And he’s fixed lunch for us.”

  “So, what else has the professor been up to?” she asked, pulling out household cleaning products.

  “We have been working out in the garden,” Irene replied.

  “Got a lot accomplished, I suppose,” Mildred said, grabbing an apron and wrapping it around her wide girth.

  “Pretty much,” Irene answered as she took a final bite from her sandwich.

  “I gather he is eating alone, up in his study upstairs,” the housekeeper uttered, folding the brown paper bags and placing them neatly in a bin holding similar folded paper bags.

  “I’m not sure, but more than likely, that’s where he went,” Irene said, sensing that this was a good time to ask about the professor. “You’ve worked here for quite a few years, Mildred. Why does the professor always wear that mesh covering and on top of that, a hood, even in the house?”

  “Yah know, he’s never told me why and frankly, I have never asked why.”

  “Have you ever seen him without it on his face?”

  “Never,” was Mildred’s one word response as she put away the kitchen cleaning products.

  Irene leaned back in her chair, somewhat flustered.

  “I see he’s a mystery to yah,” Mildred added.

  “Yes, he is,” Irene said, then asked, “Isn’t he a mystery to you, as well?”

  “Most certainly, lass,” Mildred mildly retorted, “but not to the point it might jeopardize my employment here.”

  “I see your point,” Irene replied, reaching for her drink.

  “So, what’s the good professor teaching you or are you here to volunteer your time, you know, returning one good deed for another?”

  “He’s teaching me about life, love, men, and other philosophical matters, I suppose,” Irene answered. “I must say that we did not talk much about any of these topics today.”

  “Life and love, huh,” the housekeeper uttered in response.

  “Yes, I think there’s a lot that he can teach me in these areas.”

  “Well, he is the expert, I suppose,” Mildred said dryly.

  Hearing an approaching sound the two women turned in the direction of it. It was the professor. He was holding an empty plate and empty glass. He had not taken any soup with him.

  “Good afternoon, Mildred,” he said entering the space.

  “Why good afternoon to yah, professor,” Mildred replied as she walked over to him and took possession of the empty plate and glass. “I purchased the cleaning products you asked me to pick up. And they are all neatly tucked away.”

  “Thank you, Mildred,” he replied. “As always, you can keep the change.”

  “Thank you, professor,” she said, setting the plate and glass in the sink. “Listen, I have a long list of work to do, and a shorten day to do it in, so I’ll leave you two to your own devices and get started. Have fun.” Mildred took pride in keeping the place cleaned and his pantry and freezer well stocked.

  “You too,” Irene replied.

  “Hardly, lass,” Mildred chuckled as she left the area.

  The professor quietly sat down at the opposite end of the table, his eyes barely visible.

  “What are we going to do next, professor?” Irene asked.

  “Talk,” was his one word response.

  “And on what subject, may I ask?”

  “Men, Irene.”

  “Men,” she echoed softly.

  “Yes men,” he qualified. “Now, tell me…what are your thoughts on men?”

  “In what way, professor.”

  “Let’s say, in a general sense.”

  “Well, from my teachings, men are God’s anointed and symbolic head of the family, and when –“

  “Irene, I want your view of men, not theology’s view,” the professor injected abruptly.

  “Well, I find them most interesting, if not intriguing to a degree,” she began without flinching.

  “In what way?”

  “They seem to hover about me as though they have nothing better to do with their time. Some are all under me every other minute, like lost puppies.”

  “You ever consider that they hover about you because they find you an attractive and interesting young lady?”

  “I’ve considered that,” Irene murmured. “But I’m not interested in them, not in that way.”

  “And what way is that, may I ask?”

  “In a romantic way.”

  “I see,” he murmured. “May I ask then, if it is the notion of romance you are adverse to or is it men?”

  Irene thought about his question for a second then chuckled. “Oh, no…don’t get me wrong, I like boys. I’m straight. But men can be so persistent, and some more than others.”

  “If they are persistent, would you agree with me that it is likely that they find you worthy of their time and interest?”

  “I would agree with you but only to the extent that it is in their own minds that they perceive I am worthy of their time and interest. I cannot say that I share their sentiment.”

  “Then let’s speak about perceptions,” he continued. “Now, let’s say that I agree with you that one’s perception is only in one’s mind…is that not truth for the owner of that perception?”

  “I would say that for many, truth is as elusive as trying to catch one’s own shadow.”

  “So, are you saying that truth is unattainable, even in the arena of romantic interests?”

  “I am saying that truth, for some, is unattainable because truth must first be based in reality and the reality I speak to is that one person does not make a relationship. It takes two. If one person has an attraction for another and that other person shares not those feelings, what I am saying is that there is no truth in the reality of that situation because the feelings involved are not reciprocated.”

  “I agree with you in that sense, now that you have introduced clarity to your position, and well so, might I add,” the professor replied. “But let’s speak to the reality of the person infatuated with you. Though truth may be lacking initially in his outreach to you, should that be reason for him to walk away from the situation, or should he hold out hope that his persistence might pay off in the long run, whereby, truth will eventually enter the realm of reality?”

  “I believe you are speaking as to whether or not a man should give up after being rebuffed.”

  “You could address it that way.”

  “I think that in matters of career goals, educational goals, political goals, and personal goals, one should not be taken aback by the first barrier to confront them. But in matters of the heart, I am dubious as to whether or not this applies or is as practical a response.”

  “So, you are saying that the goals you have so aptly mentioned are quite worthy of a man’s pursuit, in light of any obstacles placed before your pursuer, but a man should not think you worthy enough of a person or goal to pursue?”

  “Well, that’s not quite what I was saying,” Irene replied examining his logic a little more closely.

  “So, you are worthy of being pursued, I gather.”

  “Only by those I want to pursue me, I reason.”

  “I take from this that only you will be able to determine the person and the romantic outcome because only you know and define the men you want to pursue you. Am I to understand that a man, not cleared by you as a pursuer, will ever be able to get into the game? Is that a fair assessment on my part?”

  “I am not saying that all of my romantic interests will be predetermined but most of them will be.”

  “But if only those, with whom you are attracted to, are allowed to compete for your heart, how might someone not fav
ored by you initially get a fair chance of demonstrating his romantic interest and personal credentials to you?”

  “I really don’t know,” Irene finally admitted. “I’ve have to give it more thought.”

  “Well, you do that,” he said rising up. “We’ll continue this conversation day after tomorrow. Any questions?”

  “Yes,” she said. “What exactly was my lesson today, professor?”

  Without hesitation, he said, “The value of hard work and the lesson of fairness.”

  “Could you elaborate, please?”

  “You said earlier that you loved the garden, am I correct?”

  “Yes, most certainly,” she answered rising up from the table as well. “It is the most beautiful garden I have ever seen or worked in.”

  “Well, much like relationships, achieving the wonderful results you have witnessed in my garden, requires hard work and a lot of devotion and patience, no matter the obstacles. You have demonstrated today that you are not averse to hard work, meaning that you are not afraid to put forth the necessary time and effort in the endeavors you pursue. And that is a good thing.”

  “I see,” she said, then added, “And what about the lessons of fairness?”

  “That’s what you are going to think about over the next day or two.”

  “I see,” she replied having put two and two together. He was talking about men who found her interesting but she was indifferent to in return; possibly ruining any opportunity of making a new friend.

  “Anything else before we part ways?”

  “I noticed that you had no need of your cane after lunch.”

  “I have good days and bad days, Irene.”

  With that he escorted her to the front door.

  Irene had just wrapped up a quick five minute phone call to her mother in the states when her aunt arrived home from Liverpool. Springing up, she assisted her aunt with her luggage and several large shopping bags. The two made their way into the living room.

  “Well, hello my niece,” she said spiritedly, setting one of the bags on the sofa. “How did things go for you while I was away?”

  “Just fine,” Irene answered, placing the other bag on the coffee table. It contained a record album.

  “Go ahead and look at it,” Audrey said. “It’s the first album from the group I went to see.”

  Irene removed the album from the bag and looked it over.

  “The Beatles,” she murmured. “What an odd way to spell beetle. But clever, nevertheless.”

  “Irene, you should have been there,” Audrey said, her voice filled with excitement. “Marge and I decide to go to the concert. Sure, it was a much younger crowd but those boys were so incredible. And so adorable. And their sound was out of this world. Just fabulous!”

  “I’ll have to listen to the album later,” Irene said as she plopped down on the easy chair.

  “Girl, it’s been some years since I screamed so loud,” Audrey added, her dimples flushed, her smile dreamy. “It was just so wonderful. I also bought some new paint supplies.”

  Yes, I was in your art studio looking at some of your impressionist paintings and was bowled over,” she said. “You are so talented. I just love your landscapes.”

  “Why thank you niece. I try,” Audrey said. “And you, did you get together with Morris?”

  “We went out to dinner and a small get together with some of his friends.”

  “Did you enjoy yourself?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “That’s all?”

  “That’s all, auntie,” Irene answered nonchalantly.

  “Well, do you two plan on getting together again?” Audrey asked as she sat down on the sofa.

  “I wouldn’t mind that,” Irene said to her aunt’s relief. “He’s a pretty decent guy. No, I would not write him off.”

  “So, what else did you do doing my absence?”

  “I visited a few villages and I even met Morris’ uncle over in Aylesbury.”

  “Now that sounds both interesting, and promising.”

  Audrey picked up the Beatles’ album and glossed over it.

  “I talked to mother just before you came in.”

  “Ooh, how’s my sister doing?”

  “She’s doing well. She and Margo are planning to visit dad’s gravesite next week. She visits him at least once every two months, you know.”

  “Yes, she does,” Audrey added. “Your mother really loved your father and he loved her just as much. I was really crushed by his sudden death.”

  “Yeah, we all were,” Irene said, sadness evident in her voice.

  “You know, being in love can be so exhilarating, especially when you find the right person who reciprocates that love.”

  Her aunt’s use of the word reciprocate produced a sudden flashback to Professor Seabreeze’s last lesson and the task he gave to her on the topic of fairness. From that moment on she could not get him off of her mind nor let go of her growing curiosity about him.

  Chapter 7

  The professor sat down at his piano in his study and began to play a favorite jazz tune. It was a melodic, soulful, syncopated piece. It was a musical selection that would ordinarily end in a round of applause in some packed hall, but not on this occasion. This piece had only an audience of one.

  As he played spiritedly he thought about his star pupil and their next lesson. She had left quite an impression upon him and that was not an easy undertaking for anyone out to impress the professor. Yet, she had won him over and without being pretentious or superficial. She was bright and intelligent, and more than the brightest person her age. Yet, she was well-grounded and easygoing. It was unusual for someone to be that mature and that well-grounded, and at her age, he told himself. This raised his curiosity even more. He would have to probe her mind further to see why she seemed so indifferent to the notion of romance. There had to have been some tectonic shift in her emotional psyche somewhere in her past for her to display such detachment from men and in a romantic sense. But he knew that if he was going to get to the bottom of this he would have to gain her trust first. With that thought, he brought his one man recital to an abrupt halt.

  That evening, as she took a break from her medical drama, Irene set the book down on the bed as images started to flood her mind in contemplation of what the professor had in store for her. She had taken to heart what he had said about fairness and decided to explore it further, so she called Morris to see if he’d like to have lunch with her the following day. Without hesitation, he agreed to meet her for lunch.

  Later the following morning, under the rising sun, she hopped onto her scooter and rode over to the town of Aylesbury. Along the way she passed numerous cedar, red oak, and green ash trees, until she came upon the professor’s residence. She was tempted to stop for an unannounced visit but tossed that notion to the curve. She did not want to run contrary to the guidelines he had put into place. Besides, she did not want to miss her lunch outing with Morris. With others this would be considered a lunch date. But Irene preferred the term lunch outing since she did not view this as a date, just a casual get together.

  Morris appeared at the front entrance of his uncle’s locksmith shop the moment she pulled up on her scooter. He looked fabulous standing there, she thought as she disembarked from her bike. He was wearing a pair of thigh hugging blue jeans and an open plaid shirt that allowed her to catch a glimpse of his muscular frame before he buttoned up.

  Approaching her, he gave her a bright cheerful smile. Though not interested in him romantically, it had not escaped her that he was obviously interested in her. In what way, shape, or fashion was another matter. To appease her aunt, she would allow him the opportunity to get to know her but only in a casual way.

  “It’s good fancying seeing you again Irene,” he said, as he ran his hand over his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “Fair weather today, huh?”

  “Oh, the ride over was so relaxing,” she said as she put on a pair of sunglasses.

  Mo
rris flashed another smile before saying, “Come on, I’m taking you to a different restaurant this time. You like broiled shrimp and steamed oysters?”

  “God, I love seafood,” she replied, as her chestnut brown eyes lifted to his.

  “Then let’s go and have some,” he said as they took off down the block to Mallory’s Seafood Shack.

  “So, how is your uncle doing?”

  “He’s just fine,” Morris replied as they waited for their order to arrive. “We’re pretty busy today so that is why I did not bother to take you inside. Besides, this will give us a few extra minutes together.”

  Irene smiled, unsure of what to say. At that moment their order arrived, which gave her the opportunity to steer their discussion in another direction.

  “My, this looks so delicious,” she said beaming. On her plate sat a mountain of broiled shrimp in butter sauce and fries, or chips as the British say, and a side dish of a half dozen steamed oysters. Some crackers and two small bowls of hot butter were placed at the table for the oysters.

  “Well, eat up lass,” Morris urged as he dipped an oyster into the butter sauce. “Umm, this is delicious.”

  Irene took her fork and pierced an oyster and dipped it in the butter sauce and followed it with a crisp cracker. “Oh, this is so divine tasting.” Her eyes were closed when she made the remark.

  “So, what have you been up to since I last saw you?” he wanted to know.

  “Just resting and seeing some of the sights.”

  “That’s good,” he said after taking a sip of cola. “I was really afraid that I might not ever hear from you again after our last outing. I truly apologize for offering you too much drink.”

  “That’s all right,” she replied, taking her glass of lemonade in hand and sipping it. “I should have told you that I wasn’t a drinker but I didn’t want to spoil the good time you were having and I did not want to appear the oddball in the group.”