To Sail Beyond The Sunset

‘Mrs Johnson, our policies are not set in stone. While most of our students are men, we do not exclude women who seriously desire what we offer. We are a Catholic school but we welcome non-Catholics. Here at Rockhurst we do not actively proselytise but perhaps I should warn you that Episcopalians, such as yourself, exposed to sound Catholic doctrine, often wind up converted to the true Church. If, while you are among us, you find yourself in need of instruction in faith and dogma, we will be happy to supply it. But we will not pressure you. Now... Are you degree-seeking? Or not?'

I explained to him that I had registered as a special student and potential candidate for a bachelor's degree at KCU. ‘But I am more interested in an education than I am in a degree. That is why I have come here. I am aware of the reputation of the Jesuits for scholarship. I hope to learn things here that I would not learn on the other campus.'

‘One may always hope.' He scribbled something on a pad, tore it off and gave it to me. ‘You are a special student now, entitled to attend any lecture course. There are additional fees for some courses, such as laboratory courses. Take this to the Bursar's office; they'll accept your tuition fee and straighten you out on other charges. Stop in and see me in a week or two.'

The next six years, 1946-52, I spent in school, including summer sessions. My home had no babies in it and no small children. There is not much work in such a household and what there was, I delegated - to Doris, sixteen and just starting to check her Howard list under my protective chaperonage, and to Susan, who was only twelve and still virgin (I felt fairly sure) But an outstanding cook for her age. So I started in on her sex education, being aware of the strong correlation between good cooking and a high libido... only to find that Aunt Betty Lou had done well by my girls in bringing them up as innocent sophisticates, well-informed about their bodies and their female heritage long before they would have to face that heritage emotionally.

I had just one son at home, Pat, fourteen in ‘46. I decided, somewhat reluctantly, that I was going to have to check on his knowledge of sex - before he contracted some silly disease, or impregnated a twelve-year-old moron with big breasts and a small brain, or got caught in a public scandal. I had never had to cope with this before; either Brian, or Father, or both, had taught my sons.

Patrick was patient with me.

Finally he said, ‘Mama, is' there something special you want to ask me? I'll try. Auntie B'Lou gave me the same examination she gave Alice and Doris... and I missed only one question.'

(Shut my mouth.) ‘What was the question you missed?'

‘I couldn't define "ectopic pregnancy". But I can now. Shall I?'

‘Never mind. Did Aunt Betty Lou or Uncle Nelson discuss the Ira Howard Foundation with you?'

Some. When Alice started courting, Uncle Nelson got me aside and told me to mind my own business and keep my mouth shut... then to see him again when I wanted to start courting myself. If I did. I didn't think I would. But I did. So I did... and he told me about baby subsidies. For Howard babies. For Howard babies only.'

‘Yes. Well, dear, Aunt Betty Lou and Uncle Nelson seem to have told you everything I could tell you. Uh... Did Uncle Nelson ever show you the Forberg etchings?'

‘No.'

(Damn it, Briney; why aren't you here? This is your job.) ‘Then I must show them to you. If I can find them.'

‘Auntie B'Lou showed them to me. They're in my room.' He smiled shyly. ‘I like to look at them. Shall I get them for you?'

‘No. Well, at your convenience. Patrick, you seem to know all about sex a boy your age needs to know. Is there anything I can tell you? Or do for you?'

‘Uh... I guess not. Well - Auntie B'Lou used to keep me supplied with fishskins. I promised her that I would always use them... but Walgren's won't sell them to anyone my a age,'

(What else has Betty Lou dope for him? Is intercourse with an aunt incest? Correction: is an aunt-in-law incest? They are certainly no blood relation. Maureen, mind your own business.)

‘All right, I'll keep you supplied. Uh, Patrick, where have you been using them? Not who, but where?'

‘Right now I only know one girl that well... and her mother is very fussy. Her mother has told her to do it only at home, in their basement playroom. Or else.'

(I did not ask about ‘Or else'.) ‘Her mother seems very sensible. Well, dear, you can do it safely here at home, too. But nowhere else, I hope Not in Swope Park, for example. Too risky.' (Maureen, who are you to talk?)

All three were good children and I had no trouble with them. Aside from some mild supervision the household ran itself and I had plenty of time for school. By the time Susan married in August 1952 I had not one but four degrees: bachelor of arts, bachelor of laws, master of science, and doctor of philosophy. Preposterous!

But here is how the rabbit got into the hat:

I could not claim a high school education because a high school diploma dated 1898 would have been horribly inconsistent with my claimed Howard age (forty-four in 1946). Oh, whenever possible I listed my age as ‘over 21' but, if pinned down, I claimed my Howard age and avoided situations that could possibly tie me into anything that happened before about 1910. Mostly I did this by keeping my lips zipped - no ‘Did you know so-and-so?' and no ‘Remember whens'.

So, when I registered at KCU ir was not as a freshman, but as a special student. Then I asked for advanced standing and degree-seeking status, through examinations, and did not boggle at the high fees quoted to me for special examinations to discover just where I stood in English and American literature, American history, world history, mathematics, Latin, Greek, French, German, Spanish, anatomy, physiology, chemistry, physics, and general science. During the remainder of that semester I took examinations steadily, cramming for the next one at night and sometimes attending lectures across the boulevard for dessert.

Toward the beginning of the summer session I was called to the office of the Dean of Academics, Dr Bannister.

‘Please sit down, Mrs Johnson.'

I sat down and waited. In appearance he reminded me of Mr Clemens, even though he did not wear white suits and did not smoke (thank goodness!) those horrible cigars. But he had that untidy halo of white hair and that look of a jovial Satan. I liked him on sight.

He went on: ‘You have completed your special examinations. May I ask what standing you expected to receive here?'

‘I had no expectations, Doctor. I asked to be examined in order to find out where I belong.'

‘Hmm. Your application shows no schools.'

‘I was privately tutored, sir.'

‘Yen, so I sce. You've never attended school?'

‘I have attended a number of schools, sir. But briefly, never long enough for academic credit. My father travelled a great deaclass="underline"

‘What did your father do?'

‘He was a doctor of medicine, sir.'

‘You used the past tense.'

‘He was killed in the Battle of Britain, Doctor.'

‘Oh. Sorry. Mrs Johnson, your correct advanced standing is that of bachelor of arts - no, no, attend me. We do not award that degree or any degree simply on the basis of examinations with no time in residence. Do you expect to be on campus for the next two semesters? The academic year of 1946-47?'

‘Certainly. And this present summer session as well. And then some, as I purpose asking to be accepted as a candidate for a doctor's degree if and when I achieve a baccalaureate.'

Indeed. In what field?'

‘Philosophy. Metaphysics, in particular.'

‘Well. Mrs Johnson, you amaze me. In your application you describe yourself as "housewife".'