Braided Gold

by Glen Roylance

  He went on to describe his lengthy visit with Elizabeth on that second evening of his visit when, as one who was open and hungry for understanding, he had allowed her to teach him things he had never understood before. He had posed question after question that night, whereupon she had painstakingly and lovingly provided answers – believable and incredibly beautiful answers. He spoke of the second evening in his room when, with newfound faith, he had put into practice those things Elizabeth had taught him about personal prayer. He had undertaken this new endeavor with complete confidence that it would be efficacious, but had not anticipated the sublime joy that flowed to him from the invisible world. He had commenced this first effort at praying with a rudimentary understanding of those principles governing men’s worship of God, but had emerged with a deep and abiding sense of the reality and power of it all.

  That night Paul’s sleep had been untroubled as feelings of tranquility and hope enveloped him. It had been a night of deliverance from turmoil and a tormented conscience. When the first evidences of morning light had become apparent through his window, he found himself loathe to turn his attention to preparations for his return flight to California.

  Following an early breakfast with Elizabeth the two of them sat together in Elizabeth’s beautiful living room where they spoke of many sacred things and wept together. Tears of joy and profound gratitude were a completely new experience for Paul. The balance of those early-morning hours had moved along in a hurried fashion as he prepared for his imminent flight. Then came the tender good-bye from the woman he had greeted as a stranger two days before and whom he now regarded as a dear and trusted friend. There was a loving embrace and Paul was off to San Diego to deal with many unresolved problems, but this he did with newfound faith.

  All these things Paul shared with Claire without inhibition. Some people might have dismissed his experience as a maudlin melodrama, but this was not Claire’s response. She understood without asking questions and related to all that he said as if it were reality within her own life. Her heart went out to Paul, and the emotional barrier with which she had shielded herself from him finally went down. While there was no evidence that Paul’s foray into faith might not be short-lived, she trusted his new resolve implicitly.

  Moreover, something very curious began to transpire as the two of them spoke. During the early days of their relationship she had conscientiously tried to be a support to one of inferior faith and diminished emotional resilience. Now, for the first time, she felt something of a role reversal as she drew strength, comfort, and reassurance from him.

  Paul looked at his watch with the realization that there had been far too little sleep during the last several days to sustain him as he met the challenges a new day would bring in just a few hours. “I must go,” he said. “The hearing commences at 10 a.m. tomorrow morning, and between now and then I must organize my thoughts.”

  “How are you going to approach this ugly thing?” asked Claire.

  “That is not entirely clear to me as yet. But one thing is certain. The battle is over. If I, myself, have become sickened at things I have said and done, where is the basis for any legitimate defense in my behalf? Over the years I have succeeded in turning my life into a grand puzzle, but I am determined to put all of the pieces back together. That would not have been possible a week ago.”

  Claire motioned to the morning newspaper sitting on her living room coffee table. “The paper describes the hearing as being similar to a grand jury investigation without the element of secrecy. Is it true that the proceedings will be open to the public?”

  “To both the public and the media. I am confident that the whole thing will resemble a circus side show. I’ve become a public curiosity, Claire. Were it not for Michael, I would ask you to come and be with me, but that is out of the question.”

  Paul stood and Claire followed him to the door. This time it was she who initiated the embrace. The ensuing moment of tenderness seemed, in very deed, to open a new chapter in their relationship. Their lips met, as did their feelings – feelings about each other and about life that were full of mutual aspirations.

  “My prayers will be with you,” said Claire.

  “Thank you, Claire, and thank you for everything else you have done for me. I’m sure Michael will be fine. I’ll be here for both of you as soon as I can get away from campus tomorrow.”

  It was a quarter past seven the next morning when Paul’s phone rang. The emotion in Claire’s voice left little question as to why she was calling. “He’s gone, Paul. I checked on him during the night and he was doing fine, but when I went into his room this morning there was no pulse. Oh, Paul,” she said with the anguish of one who had now lost another loved one, “I’ve tried to prepare myself for this, but I didn’t expect it to be so difficult. I’ve grown to love him so much.” There were sobs, revealing the intensity of her sorrow.

  Paul fought for composure as he, too, felt the pain of a great personal loss. But he was determined that this blow would not rob him of the ability to respond properly in the face of these circumstances. There would be none of the dark cynicism nor the bitterness so characteristic of him in past years. As he struggled, it dawned upon him that he was obligated to see things clearly for both himself and Claire. A thought suggested itself and he yielded to it, accepting it as right and appropriate.

  “Claire,” he said, waiting for her to regain her ability to speak.

  “Yes,” she said momentarily.

  “What if we had been denied these few weeks with him – the trip back from Eagle Mountain and the hours we have spent with this precious little boy of mine? What if he had died before I had come to know him and love him? In his own way he has taught me things I couldn’t have learned any other way. If I must part with him, then I’m grateful to have had him for this brief season. And perhaps there is some hidden blessing in all of this for you, too, Claire.”

  She was quiet as he continued. “I won’t speak for you, but search your heart and see if your loving him and caring for him hasn’t also brought you a measure of healing. But there is something else for us to consider. Despite the difficulty in parting with him neither of us should question the right of a mother to come and reclaim the child she has loved since the day of his birth. I believe there was far more to Michael’s dream of his mother than you or I surmised last night.”

  There were moments of silence before Claire responded, and when she did she spoke in a quiet, controlled voice. “Yes, you’re right, Paul. I’m sure you are right.”

  Paul continued, “Neither of us can dismiss the sadness we feel, but there must be no bitterness.”

  “What do you want me to do, Paul?”

  He looked at his watch and did some quick mental calculations with respect to the unrelenting schedule of that difficult morning. “I can be there in about a half hour,” he said. “Will you be all right until then?”

  Claire responded thoughtfully, “I appreciate your willingness to come, but really, there’s nothing that you can do here. If you’ll trust me to make the necessary arrangements, I’ll go ahead and take care of things. That will free you up to do what you need to do.”

  “But it wouldn’t take long.”

  “Don’t come just for me, please. I’ll be fine, really.”

  “Well, then, maybe that would be best. I’ll make contact with Anna and Elizabeth before I leave here.”

  “Best wishes for all that’s ahead of you today,” said Claire sincerely, then quietly added the phrase she had never, as yet, trusted herself to speak to Paul, “I love you.”

  Mitch was waiting for Paul in the hallway of the Life Sciences Building. They shook hands, exchanged superficial pleasantries, and then proceeded immediately to Paul’s office. In his last meeting with Mitch, Paul had scheduled this time for the two of them to make any last-minute preparations prior to the hearing.

  “Paul, I know things look bad for you, but if we can just hold to the strategy I outlined the last time we visite
d, I think we may still have a chance.”

  “How rigid are the proceedings?” asked Paul.

  “Rigid? What do you mean?”

  “Are the procedures set in concrete? Would it be possible for me to make a preliminary statement?”

  “What on earth for? Why would you want to do something like that?”

  “Would it be allowed?”

  “The procedures are not as rigid as those that are followed in a court room, but I really don’t see any need for you to …”

  “Would you then make the arrangements for me to make a preliminary statement?”

  “Just how early in the proceedings would you want to do this?”

  “I want to do it before things start – before anything else has been said.”

  “Paul, this is highly irregular. What is it you want to say?”

  “Just arrange it, will you?”

  “You’re really set on this thing, aren’t you?”

  “I am.”

  “Well, the Board of Trustees has designated a presiding officer. I’ll speak with him if you wish and see if something like that might be allowed.” Then, changing the subject, Mitch reached in his briefcase and retrieved some paperwork he had completed in preparation for the hearings. “Before we’re out of time let’s review the game plan for today’s session.”

  “Mitch, I appreciate all that you’ve done, but I really don’t think it’s necessary for us to talk further. I remember very well everything you said the last time we met. What is most important to me is that I have some time alone here in the office before we commence. Why don’t you just go ahead by yourself and I’ll meet you at the hearing.”

  “Are you all right, Paul? You don’t seem to be yourself this morning.”

  “I’m more myself than I’ve ever been, Mitch. There’s no need for concern.”

  Mitch was frustrated as he left Paul. Their conversation had left far too much unsaid. Nevertheless, he knew Paul well enough to be confident that there would be no further consultation that morning. He was uncomfortable about the request Paul had made of him, but he would dutifully ask the presiding officer to allow Paul to make some preliminary remarks. He hoped that the request would be denied.

  The hearing had originally been scheduled to take place in an auditorium within the Administration Building, but because of the unforeseen events of recent days and extensive damage to that building it had been moved to the main theater of the Aztec Fine Arts Center. Also, this larger campus facility had become a logical alternative in light of the large crowds of students and people from the community that would come to witness the spectacle.

  When Mitch arrived at the Fine Arts Center journalists and TV crews were officiously bustling about, making it seem that this was their production. The auditorium stage had been set up with two opposing banks of tables and chairs. Tables on one side of the platform would accommodate those faculty members impaneled to sit as a jury in this investigation which, in some ways, would resemble a courtroom trial. Facing them on the other side of the platform was a table where Paul, his attorney, and counsel for the Trustees would be seated. Flanking this long table were chairs where witnesses would await their invitation to be questioned. At the center and to the rear of the stage a podium had been placed where witnesses would stand as they responded to questions from the faculty panel and the attorneys. Microphones had been placed on each of the tables on the platform and at the center podium.

  Mitch would be allowed to speak on Paul’s behalf when he thought it to be judicious, but the rules of the hearing did allow for questions to be posed by the faculty panel or the attorneys directly to Paul. Mitch had arranged for several key witnesses to testify in Paul’s defense. In all matters, including the flow of the proceedings, the appointed representative of the Board would preside and take the lead.

  It was anticipated that the auditorium would be filled to capacity. About a hundred seats in the center section had been roped off and reserved for faculty members and other VIP’s. A number of seats had also been reserved for the press corps.

  Mitch waited broodingly in the stage wings for the presiding officer to arrive. It would be important to express Paul’s wishes early on, before the pressure and hubbub of the proceedings would make it difficult to speak privately. An audience of curious onlookers, hoping to get good seats, had already begun to assemble.

  Finally, Dr. Davenport, a representative of the State Board of Higher Education, ascended the stairway to the platform. Mitch moved quickly in his direction. Introducing himself, he asked if they might have a word in private. Davenport agreed and the two men stepped into a small hallway just beyond the stage area.

  “Dr. Kirkham has asked that I make a request in his behalf,” commenced Mitch. “Even though there will be ample time for him to respond to the charges that will be addressed in this hearing, he feels the need to make a preliminary statement to the faculty panel and for the benefit of the Board of Trustees.”

  “Mr. Poulas, I know of only two members of the Board that will be attending today’s hearing.”

  “Yes, we understand that, but Dr. Kirkham was desirous of making a statement for the record.”

  “Then I suggest that he prepare a formal written statement and submit it to us. We’ll see to it that it’s included in the record.”

  “Dr. Davenport, this is very important to my client.”

  “I promise you that he’ll be granted adequate time to express himself in the normal course of this hearing.”

  Undaunted, Mitch continued. “I don’t mean to be burdensome or unreasonable, but all this is very difficult for Dr. Kirkham. Would it not be possible – ”

  “Mr. Poulas, these days have been difficult for all of us. I’m sorry, but I’m just not inclined to bend any procedures to make this thing more palatable to Dr. Kirkham.”

  Whatever his strengths or limitations, and irrespective of what he felt about Paul’s unusual request, Mitch was ever loyal to his clients. In that spirit of loyalty he made one final attempt to sway the chairman from his intransigence. “Dr. Davenport, this faculty panel has the power to curtail the career of a tenured professor. Despite the objectivity normally associated with higher institutions, the mood among the faculty and in the community makes it likely that there will be little real objectivity in today’s scrutiny of this man’s life. However damning the evidence against my client appears to be at this point, there are many important things that have not yet been heard. Perhaps the most important of these has to do with his own feelings about the charges brought against him. I plead with you in the spirit of fairness to grant him this request. We’re not asking that any of the harshness of these proceedings be stripped away or that the panel’s efforts to get at the truth be blunted in the slightest. We only ask that a man who stands to lose everything he’s worked for, for so many years, be given a chance to say a few words that might soften the tone of this inquiry into his professional standing.”

  Dr. Davenport wilted somewhat in the face of Mitch’s persistence and his obvious sincerity in pleading for a favor in behalf of his client. “Five minutes, and no more!” he said. “And if his remarks turn into a harangue, I’ll have him silenced. Will you make that clear to Dr. Kirkham?”

  “Thank you, Sir. I promise you that my client will not abuse this privilege.”

  Paul arrived just before the proceedings were to commence, and by this time Mitch had worked himself into a frenzied frame of mind. He could not understand Paul’s late arrival, nor could he comprehend Paul’s unwillingness to communicate with him at a time when a proper defense of his professional standing was of such great importance. In fact, he had begun to wonder if Paul might choose to absent himself entirely from the hearing. But at the height of his consternation he caught a view of Paul as he stepped through a doorway into the wings at the side of the platform. Mitch arose and quickly hurried to him. The two spoke briefly together, then stepped on to the stage and took their seats. They continued to whisper back a
nd forth as the chairman called the proceedings to order.

  “This panel of inquiry convenes today under the authorization and direct commission of the Board of Trustees for state universities in California. The matter before us is an investigation of alleged unprofessional conduct by one of our colleagues, Dr. Paul Kirkham.” He then gave a brief summary of the charges. “This panel has pledged itself to a fair and impartial hearing of the evidence involved, and when it has come to a unanimity of feeling about the charges against Dr. Kirkham, it will make one of two recommendations to the Board of Trustees: either that the charges against Dr. Kirkham be dismissed and that he be exonerated, or that he be formally and publicly censured for unethical conduct contrary to the ideals and standards of higher education in the state of California. Implicit in such a finding would be the recommendation that Dr. Kirkham be dismissed as a tenured faculty member at San Diego State University and that he be regarded as unfit for positions of trust in other state-sponsored institutions.

  “And now, before the presentation of formal evidence commences in this case, the Chair will tender an opportunity to Dr. Kirkham to make a brief reply to the charges that have been levied against him. Dr. Kirkham, we invite you to take your place at the podium to my left and briefly address this body.”

  Paul walked slowly to the podium. He stood in this place of focused attention for a moment or two before commencing. His eyes scanned the faces in this panel of his peers, among them the new Chair of the Psychology Department, Rex Hale. It was noteworthy that the Trustees had originally specified that no department heads should sit on the Board of Inquiry. Obviously that guideline had been meant only to exclude Leo Dykeman.

  Paul surveyed the witnesses seated to his left and then turned his eyes to the large crowd packed into the auditorium. There, to his surprise, he saw Claire seated next to Leo and Myrna in the front of the hall. Her presence was gratifying to him. Below the platform a television cameraman moved into position. The large audience was in rapt attention. More than a celebrity, Dr. Paul Kirkham had become a phenomenon! He spoke slowly without aplomb or dramatic flair. Even for the skeptic, Paul’s words carried a spirit of credibility.