recall that she was less than ten years older than him. Feeling like a first grader summoned to the principal’s office, he stammered, “Uhm, uh, Dr, Stevens, I-I need to ask you about a student.”
She looked at him sternly through lowered lids as if to say I don’t have time to waste. Just spit it out .
“ Amanda Taylor. She was a student of yours last—,” he began.
“ Yes, I know,” she interrupted through pursed lips.
“ Well, she applied for a job as my research assistant and put you down as a reference—”
Dr. Stevens continued looking through her mail as she replied in a firm but clipped cadence. “Yes, I know. Excellent student. Very hard-working. Inquisitive mind. I’m sure she will do a fine job for you.”
“ Uh, okay, good,” he replied. “Anything else I should know?”
Looking at him as if he had an I.Q. of 60, she explained, “Only three students earned A’s in my survey courses last year. She was one of them. That should tell you all you need to know.”
“ Yes, it should,” he replied, properly chastised.
She looked at him again with eyes that read Well, what else do you want?
“ Uh, thank you,” he said, acknowledging that it was time to slink away.
The next day, he was surprised to hear Dr. Stevens’s voice calling from behind him in the hallway. He turned to see her standing with a pretty, somewhat heavyset young woman who looked to be biracial. The student was carrying a large stack of CDs.
“ Dr. Burns, this is Ms. Dejean, one of my students from the Center for African American Studies.” The girl with the tuft of loose brown curls and deep green eyes shifted the weight of the stack to extend a hand. “Ms. Dejean shares a domicile with Ms. Taylor, in case there is anything else you need to know about your new research assistant.”
“ Aah, you must be the roommate who told her about the job,” he said, dropping her hand before the CD stack could collapse.
“ Yessir,” Blanca Dejean said politely. “She’s really lookin’ forward to workin’ with ya.” That was a lie, but the girl knew better than to reveal her best friend’s real first impression of the professor. Lewis thought he detected a familiar New Orleans cadence in the girl’s accent. He started to ask about it when Dr. Stevens ended the conversation.
“ Right now we need to be going. Come, Ms. Dejean.” As soon as Dr. Stevens tapped her cane on the floor, she and her protégé were off again. Lewis stood alone for several minutes, trying to figure out the exact purpose of the introduction. He finally concluded that it had probably been Dr. Stevens’s subtle way of telling him that if he really wanted to know more about Mandy Taylor, he should ask someone else. Then again, she might just have been trying to help him out. He could never quite figure out the mysterious professor’s true intentions.
He was still mulling over his colleague’s behavior that evening as he entered the silent one-bedroom home he and Laura had purchased during their first year at the flagship. Laura had been gone for two months, yet he still could not get used to the household silence. The deathly quiet as he rose in the mornings and returned home in the evenings led to a new habit of leaving the television or radio on just for background noise. Still, he could never fully avoid the emptiness whenever his feet echoed across the hardwood floors.
Lately he wished he at least had a dog running around the house for companionship. Laura always said a pet would tie them down too much, and besides, she had complained, “dogs slobber too much.” Still, it always seemed somewhat un-American to him to not have a canine. He couldn’t recall one period growing up when the Burnses didn’t have at least two pets of some kind, including various adopted stray mutts, as well as untold numbers of wild creatures the boys constantly captured during their free-range explorations.
To ease his loneliness in Laura’s absence, Lewis
She looked at him sternly through lowered lids as if to say I don’t have time to waste. Just spit it out .
“ Amanda Taylor. She was a student of yours last—,” he began.
“ Yes, I know,” she interrupted through pursed lips.
“ Well, she applied for a job as my research assistant and put you down as a reference—”
Dr. Stevens continued looking through her mail as she replied in a firm but clipped cadence. “Yes, I know. Excellent student. Very hard-working. Inquisitive mind. I’m sure she will do a fine job for you.”
“ Uh, okay, good,” he replied. “Anything else I should know?”
Looking at him as if he had an I.Q. of 60, she explained, “Only three students earned A’s in my survey courses last year. She was one of them. That should tell you all you need to know.”
“ Yes, it should,” he replied, properly chastised.
She looked at him again with eyes that read Well, what else do you want?
“ Uh, thank you,” he said, acknowledging that it was time to slink away.
The next day, he was surprised to hear Dr. Stevens’s voice calling from behind him in the hallway. He turned to see her standing with a pretty, somewhat heavyset young woman who looked to be biracial. The student was carrying a large stack of CDs.
“ Dr. Burns, this is Ms. Dejean, one of my students from the Center for African American Studies.” The girl with the tuft of loose brown curls and deep green eyes shifted the weight of the stack to extend a hand. “Ms. Dejean shares a domicile with Ms. Taylor, in case there is anything else you need to know about your new research assistant.”
“ Aah, you must be the roommate who told her about the job,” he said, dropping her hand before the CD stack could collapse.
“ Yessir,” Blanca Dejean said politely. “She’s really lookin’ forward to workin’ with ya.” That was a lie, but the girl knew better than to reveal her best friend’s real first impression of the professor. Lewis thought he detected a familiar New Orleans cadence in the girl’s accent. He started to ask about it when Dr. Stevens ended the conversation.
“ Right now we need to be going. Come, Ms. Dejean.” As soon as Dr. Stevens tapped her cane on the floor, she and her protégé were off again. Lewis stood alone for several minutes, trying to figure out the exact purpose of the introduction. He finally concluded that it had probably been Dr. Stevens’s subtle way of telling him that if he really wanted to know more about Mandy Taylor, he should ask someone else. Then again, she might just have been trying to help him out. He could never quite figure out the mysterious professor’s true intentions.
He was still mulling over his colleague’s behavior that evening as he entered the silent one-bedroom home he and Laura had purchased during their first year at the flagship. Laura had been gone for two months, yet he still could not get used to the household silence. The deathly quiet as he rose in the mornings and returned home in the evenings led to a new habit of leaving the television or radio on just for background noise. Still, he could never fully avoid the emptiness whenever his feet echoed across the hardwood floors.
Lately he wished he at least had a dog running around the house for companionship. Laura always said a pet would tie them down too much, and besides, she had complained, “dogs slobber too much.” Still, it always seemed somewhat un-American to him to not have a canine. He couldn’t recall one period growing up when the Burnses didn’t have at least two pets of some kind, including various adopted stray mutts, as well as untold numbers of wild creatures the boys constantly captured during their free-range explorations.
To ease his loneliness in Laura’s absence, Lewis
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