Well, maybe only a pound or two,” I admitted. “Maine Coons are big cats, although Diesel is much bigger than the average male.”
The object of the conversation remained by my leg. His usualpractice was to approach a stranger and sniff, then wait to be petted. When he hung back like this, I knew it meant there was something about the person that put him off. My cat was an excellent judge of character, and I decided I should heed his judgment.
“So am I.” The stranger guffawed. “Bigger than the average male, I mean.” He flexed his shoulders and stared down at me.
Was that meant as a warning? Or was he simply showing off his superior size and musculature?
He had made no attempt to answer my question, I realized, so I created another opportunity.
“If you’ve never been on campus before,” I said in a fatuously pleasant tone, “Diesel and I would be happy to show you around. In addition to working here, I’m also an alumnus.” I held out a hand. “I’m Charlie Harris.”
The stranger eyed me for a moment, then stuck out his hand. “Porter Stanley. Thanks, but I don’t need a tour.”
That’s something
, I thought.
At least I have a name
.
Then Stanley appeared to reconsider. “Tell you what, though, I wouldn’t mind seeing inside that building.” With a jerk of his head, he indicated the administration building. “I really like antebellum architecture, and I never pass up the chance to see inside old places like this.”
“I’ll be happy to show you.” I wondered how Melba would react when she saw me bringing her mysterious and menacing stranger into the building. “Come on, Diesel, let’s show the nice man where we work.” I turned toward the building and didn’t wait to see whether Stanley followed me.
I launched into a history of the building as I headed up the steps to the verandah. I felt Stanley’s presence beside me. I paused on the verandah to point out a few features before I opened the front doorand motioned for him to precede the cat and me. He had to duck his head to enter, and his massive frame filled the doorway.
Inside I chattered away about the staircase, the antique carpets and furniture in the entrance, and the hallway. I saw that the door to Melba’s office stood open, as usual, though she wasn’t there. Then I remembered she had an appointment this morning with Penny Sisson, to file her complaint. I really would have liked to see her reaction to Porter Stanley, but there might be another opportunity.
Stanley nodded now and then during my peroration on the house, and to my surprise he didn’t look bored. He appeared to be taking in the details with considerable interest. Perhaps he really was fascinated by antebellum architecture.
Diesel remained silent. He made a couple of attempts to go up the stairs but I called him back. “Our office is upstairs,” I said. “He thinks we’re here to work today, but it’s actually my day off.”
Stanley nodded. He pointed toward Melba’s door. “What’s in there?”
“The outer part of it is the office of the administrative assistant to the library director,” I said. “She must be off from work today. She and Diesel are big buddies, and she would have been out here to see him the moment she spotted us.”
Stanley didn’t respond to that. “What else? Another office in there?”
I nodded. “Yes, the library director’s office is there, too. The room next to it.” I wasn’t eager to see Oscar myself, but I was too curious to see Stanley’s reaction if the two men did meet. “He’s probably in his office. Would you like to meet him?”
Stanley shrugged. “Why not?” He appeared not to be particularly interested in Oscar, but I still wondered.
“Let’s go knock on his door,” I said. “Come on, Diesel.” We headed into Melba’s office, and the cat sniffed and looked around for his friend. The door into Oscar’s office stood slightly ajar. As we moved nearer, I heard voices emanating from it. I
The object of the conversation remained by my leg. His usualpractice was to approach a stranger and sniff, then wait to be petted. When he hung back like this, I knew it meant there was something about the person that put him off. My cat was an excellent judge of character, and I decided I should heed his judgment.
“So am I.” The stranger guffawed. “Bigger than the average male, I mean.” He flexed his shoulders and stared down at me.
Was that meant as a warning? Or was he simply showing off his superior size and musculature?
He had made no attempt to answer my question, I realized, so I created another opportunity.
“If you’ve never been on campus before,” I said in a fatuously pleasant tone, “Diesel and I would be happy to show you around. In addition to working here, I’m also an alumnus.” I held out a hand. “I’m Charlie Harris.”
The stranger eyed me for a moment, then stuck out his hand. “Porter Stanley. Thanks, but I don’t need a tour.”
That’s something
, I thought.
At least I have a name
.
Then Stanley appeared to reconsider. “Tell you what, though, I wouldn’t mind seeing inside that building.” With a jerk of his head, he indicated the administration building. “I really like antebellum architecture, and I never pass up the chance to see inside old places like this.”
“I’ll be happy to show you.” I wondered how Melba would react when she saw me bringing her mysterious and menacing stranger into the building. “Come on, Diesel, let’s show the nice man where we work.” I turned toward the building and didn’t wait to see whether Stanley followed me.
I launched into a history of the building as I headed up the steps to the verandah. I felt Stanley’s presence beside me. I paused on the verandah to point out a few features before I opened the front doorand motioned for him to precede the cat and me. He had to duck his head to enter, and his massive frame filled the doorway.
Inside I chattered away about the staircase, the antique carpets and furniture in the entrance, and the hallway. I saw that the door to Melba’s office stood open, as usual, though she wasn’t there. Then I remembered she had an appointment this morning with Penny Sisson, to file her complaint. I really would have liked to see her reaction to Porter Stanley, but there might be another opportunity.
Stanley nodded now and then during my peroration on the house, and to my surprise he didn’t look bored. He appeared to be taking in the details with considerable interest. Perhaps he really was fascinated by antebellum architecture.
Diesel remained silent. He made a couple of attempts to go up the stairs but I called him back. “Our office is upstairs,” I said. “He thinks we’re here to work today, but it’s actually my day off.”
Stanley nodded. He pointed toward Melba’s door. “What’s in there?”
“The outer part of it is the office of the administrative assistant to the library director,” I said. “She must be off from work today. She and Diesel are big buddies, and she would have been out here to see him the moment she spotted us.”
Stanley didn’t respond to that. “What else? Another office in there?”
I nodded. “Yes, the library director’s office is there, too. The room next to it.” I wasn’t eager to see Oscar myself, but I was too curious to see Stanley’s reaction if the two men did meet. “He’s probably in his office. Would you like to meet him?”
Stanley shrugged. “Why not?” He appeared not to be particularly interested in Oscar, but I still wondered.
“Let’s go knock on his door,” I said. “Come on, Diesel.” We headed into Melba’s office, and the cat sniffed and looked around for his friend. The door into Oscar’s office stood slightly ajar. As we moved nearer, I heard voices emanating from it. I
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