Teacher
I dropped out of college at the beginning of my junior year. After working outdoors all summer with a road construction crew, I couldn't go back inside the classroom. I may never have returned to the university scene, academically or socially, if not for Doreen. When I did the nude modeling job on campus to be around her, it opened doors I hadn't anticipated, and the older man from the coffee shop proved to be more important to my life than I could ever have imagined.
Natalia, the art class teacher, she told me who he was. Professor William Purcell, dean of the university's shrinking drama department. Fifty, tall and thin, always well dressed, usually in a suit, white shirt and tie. Wavy, light brown hair, combed straight back. Long, narrow face, with close set, hazelnut eyes. Straight thin nose, prominent tapered jaw. An actor's face. High energy.
He wasn't happy about Natalia's interest in me. Or the way she gazed at my penis while talking to him in the classroom. A confrontation appeared inevitable. One evening before the art class, I arrived in the crowded campus coffee shop carrying food on a tray from the cafeteria. When I settled into a seat close to Doreen, I also happened to be directly across the table from the professor. He watched me eating for a moment, then he moved forward in his chair, leaned an elbow on the table, and said:
"Who are you? Why am I seeing your face? It's not a face I want to keep seeing. You remind me of that simpleton Baron Nikolai Lvovich Tuzenbach, the young lieutenant from Chekhov's Three Sisters who falls in love with Irina. He quits the army to impress her. Gets killed in a duel."
I reflexively visualized myself punching him in the mouth. If he saw that in my eyes, it did not deter his verbal onslaught. Maybe he wanted me to respond violently, to display my immaturity. Earlier in life, I did have an emotional problem. But I learned to separate my feelings from my actions in confrontational situations while keeping my mouth shut and doing slow, deep breathing exercises through my nose.
"With that sad face you could do a convincing Oedipus. Kill your father, marry your mother, fuck your daughter, gouge your eyes out, and go wandering blindly throughout the world. You're a Stanley Kowalski from Streetcar, rough hewn, brutish, sensual, dominating, physically and emotionally abusive. Some woman like a relationship based on animalistic sexual chemistry. Primal behavior turns them on."
Was that supposed to be an insult? I wondered. He had everybody in the area watching, including Doreen, and he was obviously enjoying himself. His strong, mellow toned voice shaped every word with precision as he spoke. While I continued breathing deeply through my nose, looking into his face, into his eyes, playing his straight man on stage. But I had never been on stage so how should I know what came next?
"We'll be casting Titus Andronicus. You could be one of Lavinia's rapists, who cuts out her tongue and chops off her hands to prevent her from revealing what she knows. A lesser son would better suit your talents, I suspect. You can't be Tamora's lover, Aaron the Moor. He's black. You're not regal enough to play the Emperor of Rome or either of his two sons, Saturninus and Bassianus. Certainly not Titus himself. What does that leave us? Do you have a speaking voice? Let's hear it."
The professor apparently mistook me for a student, a wannabe actor attempting to develop a relationship with him and his exclusive circle of drama department friends and colleagues. Funny thing is, I found myself wishing I was that student. I had never thought about acting or working in theater before but something about the professor and what he said excited me. I held eye contact with him yet I could think of nothing to say. He looked back with a quizzical expression, and said: "I'm waiting."
"He's with me, William," Doreen interjected. The sound of her voice and the meaning of her words electrified me. She smiled when our eyes met and my heart filled with joy. Holding back tears, I bit my lip and blinked my eyes. Then she added: "He does have an appealing stage presence, however, even with his cloths on."
"You sure know how to pick them, Doe," the professor said as he pushed away from the table, his eyes still directed at me. The look on his face said something very different than his previous looks. It expressed interest, I thought, and I wasn't quite sure what to make of that. He would be the teacher and I would be the student, that much seemed obvious.
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Author's Note
me again
I'm loving these Doreen pieces.
Thanks, Jerry. I'm still reading yours, too, even if I don't always comment. I'm sometimes speechless.
+
Thanks, Matt, for your succinct comment. Much appreciated.
What a great scene! Must read the other Doreens now.
"Was that supposed to be an insult? I wondered. " Ha!
Carol, thank you very much for reading and commenting. I'll be catching up with your work soon.
I really like this J, there is an underlying current especially at the end. This story seduces the reader, and gives us a little more of the main character: "Earlier in life, I did have an emotional problem. But I learned to separate my feelings from my actions in confrontational situations while keeping my mouth shut and doing slow, deep breathing exercises through my nose." I'm interested on where it will be going. I like Doreen more, too!
Fav
Myra, thanks for reading. Yes it's a slowly developing story. That's how my mind works. But I am getting better at supplying details for the reader, which my mind takes for granted. From reading your writing and others here I'm slowly developing a sense for what is necessary to make a story complete and fun to read.
Wow JMC. I'm not sure of the order of the various pieces anymore, but I just finished Doreen III, and find myself here. This scene you have set up (which benefits from the earlier pieces, BUT, this story stands alone even without such earlier pieces) is really fabulous! The Professor's dialogue -- erudition intended to slay -- the tidbits we learn about the narrator (dropped out of school, prior emotional problems, prone, perhaps to violence, the learned response of deep breathing to avert improper reactions), provide wonderful gist for this scene, and ongoing relations between Prof and narrator - especially since narrator finds himself wishing to, perhaps, be "the student". That here in this piece Doreen (who in some of the earlier pieces has been an enigma) speaks up and, in some fashion, claims the narrator. Terrific dialogue. Terrific tension. Star from me.
Sorry for my lengthy comments. But also, the thing that I find so interesting is the constancy of your use of slightly formal language, in all the pieces. I can't describe it yet, but I find myself really liking the formality bang up against the narrator's view of himself as lacking in the education that those he is surrounding himself with, possess. Provides such a fascinating contrast.
Cherise, don't apologize for your lengthy comments. They are more than welcome. You are absolutely correct in all of your observations. Teacher is going back into Doreen III and adding the professor's dialogue: I enjoyed doing that and will probably do more of it. I'll keep adding more descriptive detail along with it. I'm really happy you are reading it and like it.
This took some surprising turns in such a short distance. I was rooting for a ruckus in conclusion. I hope it's part of a book; or at least a short story. So much I now want to know is unresolved.
Larry, thanks for reading. It almost concluded in a ruckus but cooler heads prevaled, at this point. I hope to resolve some issues in future posts soon.
Lots of stuff going on here, but enjoyable to read. Especially like the paragraph that begins with ""With that sad face you could do a convincing Oedipus."
Matthew, Thanks for reading, glad you enjoyed it, your comments are always appreciated.
So I've just come upon your Doreen pieces and I must take it all in slowly. Will do so in the next couple of days, when I can find time to get here. I really love this piece, it is so rich and layered and dense. Is that the word? yes, dense, as in packed, I think so. I am intrigued, want to read more.
Thanks Michelle, I appreciate all your comments and suggestions and continuing to read.
Some good storytelling going on here.
Veronica, thanks for reading, for your comment, and for your fav. I'm glad to know you liked it.
Liked it. Teach is a charismatic bitch. Most readers will relate well to him.
eamon, I appreciate your reading this. Teach is still around. Maybe it's time to visit him again. Thanks for the reminder.
Beginnings of a very good story, a longer story is there waiting to be told. Great dialogue, especially from the professor.
Henry, thanks for reading and for the positive comment, I greatly appreciate it.
I like it. A professor with a shrinking drama department, who understands people as literary characters ("You're a Stanley Kowalski"). Certainly a teacher to be followed, someone to help sort out the world. Seems more like a memoir than fiction -- if there is a difference. Thanks for the read.
Martin, thanks. The professor is a character in a longer work in progress. Memoir and fiction, yes, a mixture of both and it's difficult at times to remember which is which.
Reading through your comments, the story, I'm elated to find out this is a small piece in a bigger vignette. I really enjoyed this, J.
The language is fluid, brilliant, and unpredictable. You can feel it is bringing you nearer to some place you no doubt want to arrive. A subdued energy (rage? ennui?) marks its hard, unmistakable foot-print throughout. The rest of time, its laying dormant -- sharping its monstrous talons. *
Wow! Not what I had expected from the beginning of the confrontation. Hope you finish the longer work!
Ivan, brilliant comment, thanks. I'm sorry to have taken so long to respond. I don't know how I missed it. I am disorganized and lazy but I usually manage to follow up on story comments.
Lucile, yes, finish the longer work. This is a piece to which I have not returned for far too long. Thanks for reading and commenting and drawing my attention back.
The subtle shift in relationships is fascinating.Love thia:
"He's with me, William," Doreen interjected. The sound of her voice and the meaning of her words electrified me. She smiled when our eyes met and my heart filled with joy. Holding back tears, I bit my lip and blinked my eyes. Then she added: "He does have an appealing stage presence, however, even with his cloths on."