“Damn.” Maureen grumbled. “Allison if you do go to Stanford will you be back in time for the softball season?”
“No.” Allison responded curtly.
“The team needs you.” Maureen pushed.
“Why?” Allison laughed. “Is it the way I can’t hit, throw or run? Maureen how many times do I have to tell you not all of us girls are good in sports. Look at you. You are a total jock and the picture of heterosexuality. Lesbians having an innate ability for sports is a myth.”
“Then why are you so good at tennis?” Maureen teased.
“That is the Martina gene.” Allison snorted. “And I am not talking about that snotty little punk who is on the circuit now.”
I listened to the two of them banter back and forth. “Why did you lie about playing basketball? A few moments ago you wanted to play?”
“How about you Stephanie?” Maureen asked innocently.
“What?”
“Do you play softball?” Maureen repeated.
“Yes.” I answered honestly this time. “I used to play first base and I did a little pitching. It was hard in school to stay on a team because I was always younger than everyone else. But in Grad school I played with a local team. I did okay.”
“Great! You can join the team in the spring.” Maureen cheered then she bounced out of the room.
“How is our softball team?” I asked noticing that Allison was still refusing to look at me.
“The Relics.” Allison chuckled. “We suck.”
“Great.” I moaned. “Who cares. I ‘m looking forward to playing again. It should be fun. After all winning isn’t everything.”
“Tell that to Maureen.” Allison commented dryly.
I stood there for a moment uncertain as to how to keep the conversation going. I made a couple of attempts and received one-word answers in response. Finally Allison stood and excused herself muttering something about going to the library. Not once did she look at me. I sulked over to my desk and finished working on my syllabus for tomorrow’s classes. I worked on the computer for what seemed like hours. I looked at my watch and realized that Allison’s class was meeting. I told myself that I was going over there to listen to her theories on the Brady Bunch and it had nothing to do with wanting to see her. I ran hoping to catch the class before it was over.
As slipped quietly in and hid in the back of the room. Luckily her class was running late again. The students were captivated as always. But it was obvious that Allison was wrapping things up. I loved to watch her in action. Maybe I could learn something from her about teaching. I needed to find out what her schedule was for the new semester.
“So what have we learned from television?” Allison asked her students. “From the facts and the distortions that the media has offered to us?”
“That most lesbians would choose Jan as their favorite Brady.” One girl shouted out. The classroom erupted with laughter as I blushed.
“Yes.” Allison agreed with a smile. “That is true even though neither the character or the actress are gay. Which is too bad since Eve Plumb grew up to be …” Allison paused slightly as she noticed me standing in the back of the room. ” … um … she grew up to be very attractive.” She finished looking directly at me. I could feel the heat from the haze of blue cast in my direction. Quickly she turned away appearing to be at a loss. “Anyway … I … um … I’m sorry.” She apologized and shook her head and closed her eyes for a moment as she ran her hand threw her dark hair. Her eyes opened and she was back fully composed. “Friday is the final and I wanted to talk about that. I am sorry that the summer session ran late this year. But the construction on campus has thrown everything off track.” She paused once again and closed her eyes briefly. “For the final there will be eighty questions. No true or false and no multiple choice. There will also be two essay questions.” There was a collective groan emitted from her students.
Allison smiled at their response. “I also want you to be prepared that there will be no questions regarding television.” Her students were visibly shocked. I had to agree with them. I never heard them discussing anything but television. The first time I watched her all they discussed was the original Star Trek series. Allison just stood there and smiled that all knowing smile of hers as she worked that single eyebrow up into it’s familiar arch. “Ladies, Gentleman and others.” The students laughed once again but this time their discomfort was evident. “Now before you jump out of your seats and attack … allow me to enlighten you. When you signed up for this course, you enrolled in a course offered by the history department. I know that it is easy to forget that when you are talking about I Love Lucy. But all of this time you were really talking about American history. Therefore I am basing the final exam on our discussions. I paid very close attention to those discussions and I am banking on that you did too. Some of you may have continued those discussions after leaving this classroom.”
I watched as many students nodded their heads in agreement. “How do we review for the final?” One panicked young man squeaked.
“Relax.” Allison reassured her students. “Just think about what we have talked about. We covered a great deal of history this summer. Don’t forget that the focus was on a thirty-year span. The three decades we talked about were the 50’s, the 60’s and the 70’s. Remember the name of this course American History A Culture in Conflict 1950 to 1980? Don’t freak out! Every time I teach this course everyone ends up in a panic over the final. Trust me on this I am certain that you all will do just fine.” No one seemed to relax even with Allison’s reassurances. “Now I also wanted to remind all of you that I will be teaching extra classes this fall. Because I may not be here for the spring semester.”
My heart sank at the thought of Allison leaving. “You are leaving?” One student said, voicing my own fears. “No.” Allison responded calmly. I felt as if I could breath again. “But more than likely I will be teaching a seminar at Stanford. I will return before the end of the semester. It is a possibility that I will teach a short seminar here when I return. Nothing is definite.” The offer from Stanford that she and Maureen had been discussing earlier. I know that she needed to do this but still I did not want her to go. What if Stanford offers her a position?
“Professor Kendell?” One older student called out. “Is there any chance that you will be teaching the course on the history of the tobacco industry?”
“No.” Allison replied firmly. “That course is being taught by Dr. Steiner. But she will be using my book Signs along Tobacco Road and I have agreed to come in for a discussion.”
“But you won’t be discussing any of the inside info?” The student pried.
“I can’t.” Allison answered coldly.
I wondered what that was all about as the students asked a few more questions regarding the up coming semester. “Speaking of up coming courses.” Allison’s deep voice broke my train of thought. “I suppose some of you have been wondering about our mystery guest for the past few weeks.” She direction their attention to me. “She is with the FBI and you are all in trouble for what you said about J. Edgar Hoover.” Allison teased. “Seriously this is Dr. Stephanie Grant and she is new to the history department here at Haven. Dr. Grant will be teaching several courses on the American Civil War and one on the history of the Free Masons. So you might want to check her out.” Many of the students chuckled at Allison’s blunder as she blushed. “I meant to say check out her classes you animals. Now get out of here and do not I repeat do not freak out over the final. I will see you all on Friday.”
The students departed with unusual speed. I sensed that they were not heeding Allison’s warning not to freak out over the final. “Thank you for the endorsement.” I said as I approached her.