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LIGHT OF THE ATMA – THE SPARK WITHIN
“Wait up!”
“What for?”
“Hey -” Crogg called as he struggled to keep pace with Peter, “you’re talking to Uncle Elmer, remember? I understand!”
Peter stopped. “Do you?!”
“Well, I think so.”
“Then you’d understand I don’t want to go to England!”
Crogg gave him that ‘I know, but it’s not my decision’ look. “What can I do, Lad? My hands are tied!”
“Are they?! Seems to me I remember something someone once said to me. What was it? Oh yes, ‘There are men who say they can do things, and there are men who just plain do them without saying. Take me for instance!’” Peter mocked what Crogg once said to him, “‘I’m a man of few words, but give me an obstacle as large as the tallest redwood, and I’ll turn it into toothpicks.‘ Sound familiar?”
“You remember that? What were you? Two? Three?”
“What does it matter? Did you speak the truth or lie?”
“Hey, if I said it, I meant it! The only problem is, this particular problem we’re both facing, isn’t just one giant-sized tree, it’s a forest of them!”
Peter started walking again. Crogg kept up. Peter put on his jacket as he continued along. “I’ll tell you Mr. Crogg, I’ve changed my mind! I’m not going to England! I’m going to stay right here and work things out! This is my home and I don’t intend to leave it or lose it! ” Peter put himself into a running stride and left Crogg behind him.
Crogg put his attention on some of his men who were trying to catch up with him. When they finally caught up to him, he said to them, “Looks like we have a new problem Gentlemen. Looks like we have a new problem!”
Crogg apologized to Captain Montgomery but noted, “You can never tell how these events are going to turn out. I’ll have the family physician examine Peter and when he is up to the voyage, we’ll set the wheels in motion again.
So, if you would please, stay on call, Captain… in the mean time, I’ll have an even better room squared away for you, and a carriage and driver assigned to you. What do you say, you go out on the town as my guest, until matters are finalized. In the mean time give your men liberty, if you wish, my treat.”
“Yes Sir,” the captain responded congenially and left.
“CAN I BELIEVE MY EYES?”
Peter was tottering on the edge of self-control and loss of it. He had repressed his anger somewhat, but hate was fuming deep in his heart like a coal fire deep in a mine.
It was a miracle he didn’t disable Lefty. But Peter’s sense of justice was controlled by his conscience. As pained as Peter was made to feel by Lefty, he kept his attack in line with honor. But the chemicals of conflicting feelings in Peter were being mixed like nitro with glycerin, a jolt the wrong way and Peter could emotionally go off with a tremendous explosion.
Peter went directly to the carriage house, and ordered a driver to take him for a ride. He threw himself in the carriage seat and was driven up the north road. As they reached Apple Blossom Lane, Peter ordered the driver to swing the carriage west. Thoughts were going off in his mind like a fireworks show.
As they passed the Whipperspoon’s place, Peter caught a glimpse of his friend Christopher in the back yard. “Swing around,” he instructed his driver.
When they pulled up to the door, Peter climbed down from the carriage. The butler, having heard his arrival, immediately opened the door.
“Torrance, would you announce to Christopher, that I am here to see him?”
“I’m sorry Master Peter, Christopher is not home.” Peter squinted his eyes, and gave Torrance a strange stare, but before Peter could question him, Torrance rudely closed the door on him.
Peter walked around to the back, and across the expansive lawn where his friend was practicing his golf drives in his backyard golf course. Christopher, catching sight of him, got a smile on his face, and walked with his club in hand to meet him halfway. They shook hands as they met in the middle of the expansive lawn.
“Can I believe my eyes?” Christopher remarked. “The newspapers have you missing!”
“Yeah… you can’t believe everything you read in newspapers,” Peter remarked.
“Tell me about it,” Christopher commented. “My father’s busy planting stories in it every other day.” Looking at Peter with a serious expression, he told him how sorry he was for what happened to his parents. Noticing Torrance was busy spying out the back window, Chris remarked, “Looks like we’ve got some beady eyes on us.”
They walked across the picture-perfect, sprawling green lawn to a great elm, whose statuesque beauty couldn’t be captured by even the greatest of the ancient Greek architects. A luxurious style lawn table sat adjacent to it. Peter took a seat as his friend was placing his golf club back in the bag.
“Boy, do you look like you just had a go of it! Did you have a run-in with someone?”
Peter huffed as he rolled his eyes, “With life!”
“Yeah – I can relate to that, but who roughed you up?” Peter breathed deep and stared off. “Come on Buddy,” Christopher prodded, “you’re talking to your best friend here. I can tell when something’s wrong. Look at you, you’re a mess!”
“My father’s estate has been put into Mr. Crogg’s hands.”
“Are you telling me he’s friend, turned foe? Did he do this to you?”
Peter huffed, “Not exactly.” He paused….”indirectly, I suppose.”
“Not exactly?! Indirectly?! For heaven’s sake Peter, be exact! I mean if you’re in trouble, and if I can do anything to help…”
Peer took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “It’s just that I feel as though my father’s estate is a carcass the wolves are tearing into…”
“And…”
“Well, ever since I’ve been brought back from Boston, I’ve had nothing but trouble with Mr. Crogg, and the few dozen ‘special’ guests of his, not including his many other nameless associates he invited to stay in my home.”
“Which one in particular did this?”
“Some mutant they call a prize fighter.”
“A prize fighter?! Good grief Man, you tangled with a prize fighter?!
“God!” Peter blurted out, “Do you know how petrified I was taking on that boxer?”
“For heaven’s sake Peter, what happened?!”
“Well, Lefty…” Peter began to say.
“Wait….Lefty Hannigan!!!? That lefty?” he blurted out again. “The contender for the heavy weight!!??”
Peter raised his eyebrows and nodded.
“Good God Peter! My father is following all the promos for this fight. He says that Lefty Hannigan is one of the greatest boxers to hit the scene. He has thousands betting on him to take the title; oh, but don’t tell anyone.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
“So….what happened?”
“…Well he cornered me in the arboretum. I was taking a walk through the gardens for memories’ sake… and was walking back up the path toward my mansion to be shipped off to England, when suddenly, he jumped out from behind a bush.”
“A bushwhacker, ehh? Then what?” Christopher was getting caught up in the depiction.
“Then things got worse,” and Peter narrated the entire event to Christopher. When Peter got to the part of Lefty kissing his mother’s picture, Christopher hit the metal table hard with his fist.
“De-generate!”
Christopher, a boy versed in amateur boxing, jumped up, and mocked what he would have done to Lefty. He suddenly stopped his little pugilistic show and looking at Peter, exclaimed, “God, I wish I had been there to see it!” and he threw a few more punches into the air.
When Christopher tired himself out he sat down, and became more serious. “So, you’re in a tug of war with your father’s partner, him on one end of the rope pulling you toward England, and you on the other end trying to keep yourself in Chicago. So, what do you think? Are you going to end up being forced to go to England, or what?”
“You know,” Peter remarked, “when a bird is caged, and the owner sends that cage off somewhere, the bird goes with it…”
“Hmmmm, I see what you mean.”
“If only complicated things had simple solutions,” Peter remorsefully wondered.
“Sometimes they do,” Christopher commented, “but when we become too close to a situation, we can’t see the forest from the trees. It’s like becoming near-sighted or something. We can’t see the overall view. We’ve got to back up, you see, far enough to get the overall picture.”
“I’ve heard that advice as many times as I’ve given it to others,” Peter commented, “but you never know what it means until it affects you.”
“I always hear my father telling my mother that she gets too wrapped up in other people’s business, so much that she really is not able to discern what is truly happening in their lives. ‘Step back,’ he always says to her, ‘and you’re likely to get the bigger picture.’ “
“Okay,” Peter remarked. “You’re not caught in my problems! What can you see that I can’t see?”
“Well, from everything you’ve explained to me so far, I’d say you’re being given the run around.”
“But what motive would my father’s partner have to give me the run around? He’s practically as wealthy as my father was.”
“Peter, you’re the smartest boy who was ever in our school, yet you’re so gullible. You’re being played for a dupe, and you can’t see it because you are too emotional over things.”
“Dupe huh? So what do you suggest I do?”
“Well, if you don’t trust your grandparents, and you don’t trust Mr. Crogg, and you have no other place to go, I would say, hold your ground, and ask to see proof for everything already said and done. Get an independent financial advisor… someone from outside the area. Don’t trust anyone whose presently involved, because you never know where the ‘trap of deception’ is hidden, you see.”
“What if my father did gamble away his fortune, and the entire estate has liens against it, as Mr.Crogg says?”
Christopher smirked in disagreement. “Your father?! Oh, no. He was too shrewd for that. There are some things, some men just won’t do, and your father was one of those kind of men who protected his position and assets in life. He couldn’t lose anything unless someone really cagey and unscrupulous would steal it from him.” Christopher was confident as he shook his head. “No, no. I would say there’s something fishy going on here. If it were me, I’d go fishing.”
Peter leaned back in a restful pose. “You know what I would like to do, Chris? I’d like to go out West, get myself a horse, and ride the range.”
“Well, you’ve fancied that idea for a while.”
“You would too, if you met all the cowboys I’ve met from all those wild-west-shows.”
“Yeah, but I’m afraid it could never be. When I really think about it, it could only end up being a daydream for me, because I’m Ivy League through and through.”
“Well, chances are,” Peter replied “rather than poking around out-west, somewhere, rambling along behind some fantasy for freedom on the plain, I’ll actually be settling down in an eastern college somewhere, and putting all this behind me. I’m a realist after all. I’ll soon after, start living the life I’ve been educated to live. And, I think you’re right, Chris. I’ll hire some out-of-town attorneys and let them do my fighting for me.”
“Now, that’s better thinking, ‘ Christopher declared. “Put some distance between you and the problem. Give the task to men who have no personal stake in it. If there’s any dirt under the carpet, they’ll find it.” Christopher waved a servant over. When she arrived, he asked her if she would bring some cold drinks to himself and Peter. She nodded, and looking at Peter, commented, “You certainly do look like you could use a refreshing drink, Sir,” and, she walked away.
Christopher continued to talk, “My father says the secret of wining a battle with your opponent, is to shake down your competition before he shakes you down. And make no mistake about it Peter, you’re in a power struggle.”
You’re seeing Mr. Crogg as a friend one moment, then a foe the next. That’s signifies something is wrong with your vision of the situation. You’re allowing your personal feelings to get in the way. Get out of the line of fire.” Peter gave him a self-piteous look. “You can’t feel so sorry for yourself, Peter. Life is life and no one can control it that much. Many things are out of our hands… we just experience them, that’s all.” He paused to think more about the situation. He looked worried and spoke with a telling look on his face, “If what happened to you were to happen to me,” he shook his head as if aware of the possibility of imminent disaster, “my sister and I would become the worst of enemies, and I’d surely see the fangs come out of my other relatives, as far back as when the Mayflower landed at Plymouth Rock.”
Just then, who came dancing out from the house but Christopher’s older sister, Joanne, a stunning girl. She strolled over to the elm tree with lemonade. She was wearing a beautiful pink dress which was adorned with all sorts of decorations to enhance its splendor.
Peter and Christopher stood as she approached. She gave Peter a pleasant smile and like honey pouring from the mouth of a jar, spoke with sticky sweet tones as she placed the tray of lemonade on the table, then poured a glassful and handed it to Peter. “I heard that you wanted refreshments, so I personally volunteered to bring you some cool lemonade.”
“Thank you,” Peter responded as he took the glass from her hand, and drank it down. “You’re right, I was thirsty.”
“You both have been out here talking so long. Would you think it terribly unladylike of me to intrude on your conversation?” She stood there very pleasantly.
“Not at all,” Peter answered. Christopher didn’t seem too agreeable, but said nothing.
Joanne suddenly chided herself, “Oh, how horrible of me to forget about… your sorrow. Please accept my deepest sympathies. For, you must be crushed. I know how much you loved your mother,” and she stood back for a moment, and looked strangely at him. “What happened to you Peter? You look an absolute disaster. Did you have an accident?”
“Well, yes I did, an accident of sorts,” and he toppled a bit from being dizzy.
“Oh my goodness!” Joanne rushed forward to him, and helped him to sit. She sat down in the chair next to him and held his hand as she looked at him with great concern. She turned to her brother and asked him to get the smelling salts. He hesitated to leave, causing Joanne to scowl at him with displeasure. So, he relented and obliged, but barely, and resentfully walked back toward the house, which was far from the green.
As he walked away, she turned back toward Peter and asked, “Are you all right Peter?” She got up and wet her handkerchief with some warm water that was left sitting out in pitcher on the table in the sun, and wiped his forehead with it. He glanced at her for a moment, then carefully sat back and stared off.
She looked at him with a more serious side to her thoughts and retook her seat. “Peter, you are probably the nicest boy I know. All the rest well… they have their dark sides, and mean streaks, but you have neither.”
Peter was distracted by his own problems and thoughts but appreciated her compliment. “That’s nice of you to have noticed.”
She gave a half shrug with some humility. “Believe me Peter, a woman has to take notice of things like that, because a woman will either have to put up with men who are imperfect, as such, or stear clear of them altogether… unless we get a little help from grace or pure good luck shining on us, and find someone who is more kindhearted than the rest.”
Thinking about Crogg, and any other given man about his mansion of late, he nodded that it made sense. As he glanced at her, he noticed her endearing look, and became more present-minded. “Oh, and you think I am… what… different?”
“Think about it Peter, we all grow up a little too fast, don’t we? Our childhood slips away from us while we play, and too soon, we are adults having to face problems that we were once blissfully kept from by our childhood amusements.”
Peter had many such memories, and thought that since he was not yet a man, he could hope to still have some time to capture more youthful experiences. But lately, with his parents gone, he was quickly being thrust into manhood, forced to fend for and defend himself and his right to his estate and life as he chose it.
Joanne looked at him wistfully, yet with something certain in mind. Suddenly he realized she was getting at a particular point. “You sound like a girl looking to possibly… ah… enhance her life?” How else could he put it?
“Not only me, couldn’t you agree?” Joanne stated, feeling he understood her well, “But everyone sooner or later needs someone to walk on the path of life with.”
“Right, right,” Peter agreed, but with some growing discomfort. “Eventually, I suppose we will all get there.” He diverted to her, “And what about you? The last I heard, the line of suitors started down the block, a mile back. Have you found none so suitable and mature as you?”
“Well, yes, I have had suitors,” she paused with shy vanity, “but no, none suited me, not exactly.”
“No? In what way?”
“I am the daughter of a wealthy, very wealthy timber baron… how many suitors do you think have called on me – for me, in this last year? The men that have come around, have talked about my father, business, stocks, and a whole lot about themselves.”
Peter grinned, not too surprised. He had seen more than his share of insincerity. “I can’t say I don’t know how you feel.”
Joanne was pleased, ” So you do understand then? We are afterall, so much alike. We do have much in common.”
Peter gave a slight look askance. “On a certain level of experience, I suppose we do in some ways. It’s only natural that people like us will have some such similar encounters as it’s human nature for others to look at us in a different light, since we are amongst the very privileged. Although I am not so sure of my future continuing on that path at this moment.”
“Oh Peter, I’m quite certain your path is as steady as always. You have always been ahead of your age and in charge of your own destiny. I have every faith in you. I always have.”
Peter gave a half frown and shrugged off her confidence. “Well Joanne, I am only fourteen years old. I didn’t know all of this loss and tragedy would come to knock on my door to undermine my life as I knew it. I’m not at all sure of myself lately. And as for relationships between adults, I can’t say I know anything of how they are supposed to share their lives together. I haven’t seen much about the way your regular person does it, actually.”
“How could I or you possibly be concerned about how regular people feel about love and relationships? We are exceptional. And I have every reason to believe that exceptional goodness in the character brings goodness into life. And you have always been your mother’s son. Everyone knows of her astounding goodness. You’re every bit like her in character, you know. Not that you don’t also possess your father’s great sense of shrewdness.”
Peter was both complimented by her sentiment regarding his mother, and pained to be reminded of his harrowing loss by the mention of her name. As for Joanne’s persistence, he could hardly believe she was really serious; after all, he was just a kid, and not interested in jumping into an actual relationship with anyone, certainly not yet and not under the adverse circumstances he was facing. “You’re a very wonderful girl, for certain. I am sure the right man will come along. As for me, I’m not sure I could be someone to anyone at all, not for a long time. I have a life to recover, and that may take a while. But you, you’ll find love soon enough, someone that you need.”
Joanne was not discouraged. But, she noticed Christopher trudging back. “Just keep in mind what I have said to you… my brother is coming back, and I won’t be able to speak in front of him. Anyway, Peter, you’re not as young as you think you are. You’re already burgeoning into manhood. Why the very way and manner you behave, and speak, how you express your thoughts… reveals to me, that there is a young man just beneath the very thin surface of that boyish image of yours.”
Peter was feeling bewildered. “I wish I were, because I could use to be my own grown up self right about now, but for the time being, I am afterall, just a boy, I’m afraid. I think maybe you have over-estimated my burgeoning manhood. I must admit, I still feel like a boy when it comes to these matters.”
Christopher finally came on the scene, much to Peter’s relief, and put more drinks on the table. He handed one to Peter. “How are you feeling?”
Peter shrugged. “I’m okay.”
Christopher handed his sister the smelling salts, and got the impression something was going on behind his back. “Is there something going on here?”
Peter shrugged again and shook his head. “Your sister was sharing with me a particular philosophy she has about life.”
Christopher become somewhat annoyed with her. “He’s my friend Joanne, not a prospective boyfriend!”
Joanne looked up at him. “What do you know about life Chris, except your world of golf? You stepped from being a boy with a golf club, to being a man with a golf club, but you still see yourself as a boy wanting to play with your toys, instead of thinking about your future. Besides, whether you know it or not, or like it or not, Daddy’s already made arrangements to introduce you to a certain young woman.”
Chris backed up with dismay and aggravation. “Me?! Is he out of his mind?! I’m only sixteen years old. I’m not ready for serious commitments. No man of this age, in his right mind would be, after all. We have life to live and oats to sow.” He glanced at Peter and nodded for agreement.
“Oats to sow,” she mocked, “Really? You mean trouble to get into. Daddy wasn’t more than 18 when he married Mother, and they knew one another for 2 years prior. You’re 16 today, but going on seventeen, and he wants you to be able to have a true blue friend when you go to college, this year. Daddy feels if you don’t have someone you can trust… the poor girls will formulate a plan, and launch an attack on you, and that to him, is launching an attack on his fortune.”
Christopher was annoyed with his sister. In retaliation to her for humiliating him in front of Peter, he said to him, “Do you know why she is after you?” Peter’s eyebrows went up, as if he wanted to deny noticing it. He’d been doing a pretty good job of evading it so far, he thought. “It’s because most of the family’s inheritance will be coming to me since I’m the son, and a mere sparse triviality will go to her. So she has to find someone with enough wealth to support her before ‘Daddy’,” and he looked straight at her when he said that, “…throws her out!”
Joanne looked sufficiently wounded. Peter frowned at the statement and the open hostility toward one another, and turned around and looked at Joanne, “I don’t understand… you’re a nice girl, and you are quite beautiful.” Joanne looked redeemed as Peter voiced, “Why wouldn’t your father want to take care of you? You are his daughter.” He looked at Christopher and asked,”Would your father really throw her out of house and home?”
Christopher spoke with some satisfaction, “You bet he would!”
Joanne looked wounded.
“But why?” Peter pursued.
“Well, you see, Peter, everyone that comes up here to call on her believes she is also going to inherent a large portion of our father’s empire. but this fortune here, like his empire, belongs to me. As soon as they find out she’s not going to inherit a penny, they up and leave all of a sudden. I wonder why?” he said snidely. ” And why do you suppose her sights are on you?”
Peter looked perturbed at Christopher’s carelessness, and wondered why her father would be so disconnected from the welfare of his only daughter who wasn’t an unkind or unpleasant girl.
Just then Mr. Whipperspoon came out on the range but stayed way back. He sent a servant to tell his son he wanted to talk with him. As Christopher left to see what he wanted, Peter noticed Joanne had tears in her eyes. He reached over, and touched her hand with concern. “Why are they abusing you this way?”
“Don’t you know Peter, sometimes men don’t want to share their money, or power with women, even if it is their own daughters, or wives or sisters,” and tears poured down her face.
“Perhaps I could be of some assistance to you after all. Would you mind?”
She looked up at him, “How?”
Peter glanced up and saw that Christopher had walked over a small hill, so he explained, “Let me make this short before your brother gets back. I happen to know a few young men with the very qualities you’ve described. If you would allow me to introduce them to you, I’m sure they will find in you, what I I know you to be, and that is a sweet-hearted young lady who will impress the best of them, and no doubt in my mind, the right man will emerge for you.” Though doubtful of any such gracious outcome, Joanne tried to have hope as tears rolled down her face.
Suddenly Peter could see Christopher walking back with anger to his step. Without further delay he said , “Please, give my apologies to your brother and father, and especially to your mother…” and he got up and sprinted across the lawn to his carriage, hopped in and rode away.
Christopher walked up to his sister, and demanded, “What did you say to him to cause him to run away? Did you tell him that Mr. Crogg was over here talking to me? If you told him I was spying on him for Mr. Crogg… I’ll get you for it.”
Joanne ran to the house and into her room. Christopher stood there thinking that Peter didn’t need to know that, and Mr. Crogg didn’t need to know how he tried to help his friend.
What kind of advice could a sixteen year old boy give to one even younger? Even though they were schooled in academics, Peter ahead of his time, and learned in the sciences, the world for them, for the most part, remained as theory. Each boy had witnessed power struggles before, but which one knew how the game was actually played, fought and won?
Serious hidden danger lurked in Peter’s path of life. Like the deceptively tiny iceberg viewed above water, whose true destructive mass lay unseen… massive obstructions lay below the surface of circumstances which surrounded Peter’s life.
As advice giving Christopher intended to be, he lacked that one essential element that could set Peter’s course back on track from the wrong course it was deliberately placed on – honest experience! But, in a deeper sense yet, he lacked the Grace of God as he could conveniently play two sides of the fence to suit himself and appease all the forces around him. He was developing into a young man with deep angles and prejudices. Though he was honestly trying to share advice with Peter, at the same time, he was cow towing to Crogg, more deceiving Crogg than Peter, because he had no choice but to bend to his will at least superficially, as Crogg had connections that would impact his father’s business and therefore Christopher’s future interest. Of course he would develop a shrewd ability to comingle with all sorts, leaving one not knowing if he were fully friend or foe, having been brought up an apprentice to cleverness.
But as kind as Christopher was to Peter, he was equally unkind toward his sister. And even though some sibling rivalry is to be expected, the depth of animosity from him toward her seemed unfounded to Peter, as if it must have been more cultivated in him over the years of his upbringing by some greater force of example.
He showed more friendship toward Peter, apparently because they were both of the same gender, than to his only sister, merely because she was not. Peter thought he should have been appreciative to have a sibling, if even a sister, and somehow less alone in the world, especially in case of unexpected tragedy. One could after all develop a fine and rewarding relationship with a girl, such as one’s mother or sister, and what a loss for not trying. Peter, having been in such cherishment of his mother, could not help but view him as wrong-hearted about his own mother and sister. No wonder that Joanne felt that men were unkind, because in her world, they were. How would her brother eventually make a good husband and father, with such a disrespect for women now, and what of the eventual fate of his daughters if he ever had any? How would they escape the same fate of contempt if he could not resist issuing it out to his sister and mother now? Such were the unexpected entanglements of any given person. No one was ever really what they appeared to be on face value.
“I THOUGHT I FELT SOMEONE
STARING AT ME”
Peter left Christopher’s mansion with advice half-cured to maturity, sorting out the good from the bad, and sighed with pity at his barbaric treatment of his sister. Joanne wasn’t unkind or dislike-able. She was in fact very pleasant and additionally, physically beautiful, enough to have won a few beauty contests, but her father was grinding away at her, and therefore, Christopher was too much, ‘Like father – like son,’ in this instance.
Peter resigned to himself as the carriage pulled away, ‘If I can help her one day, I will certainly try.’ .
Peter directed his driver to take him to the university. He intended to visit his friend, Professor Von Baldwin. He was a chummy sort of man who held a doctorate in philosophy, among other degrees, and occupied a small flat on campus.
The driver pulled the rig to a stop in front of the professor’s apartment. Peter jumped down from the carriage, walked up to the door, and knocked on it.
After waiting a few moments with no response, he knocked again. He could hear a voice call from the inside. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” and a little old lady with mop-gray hair opened the door. “I’m not as young as I used to be,” she chided. “You young folks are so impatient,” and she gave him a look of bewilderment as though she may have recognized him.
“You’ll have to forgive me,” she said, “I left my spectacles in my room,” and she squinted to try to pull into focus a clear image of who she was talking to.
“It’s Peter Smith, Miss Foster.”
“Oh yes, Peter. Come in. What are you doing standing out there? Come in, come in. I’ll take you to the professor. He’s in the reading room.”
“I can find my way Miss Foster, if it is more convenient for you.”
“All right, all right,” she replied. “Far be it from me to take you where you already know to go,” and she closed the door as Peter walked in.
Peter went directly to the reading room. He found the professor on the far side of the room up on the loft standing with his back toward the door. Peter stood in the doorway, and observed the professor as he was perusing the pages of a small book.
Suddenly, the professor turned around. Seeing Peter standing there, said, “I thought I felt someone staring at me.” He closed the book, and placed it back on the shelf, walked over to the balcony and gave Peter a studied look. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
The professor slipped off his reading glasses folding them and placing them gently in his vest pocket, and descended the stairs to the ground level.
Peter shrugged his shoulders, and moved his eyes about the room as the professor sat at a little reading table in the back of the room.
The professor bent his head a little as he thought of Peter’s sorrows, and troubles… “Please – please, come in and come sit down.” Peter walked in, and took a seat.
The light which beamed in through the window streamed downward lighting every little particle of dust in the air as they drifted around with the movement of the air. The professor, sitting opposite of him, looked into his eyes with compassion.
“I can guess why you’re here. And, I am glad you came to see me. I rather hoped you would.” His voice was full of sympathy. “Your mother was a kind-hearted, generous, and caring woman.” He paused a meaningful moment. “I owe my gratitude to your father for my position here at this university. If it were not for him, I wouldn’t be teaching here. You see Peter, I have lost something too, with the loss of your good parents.”
“What’s that professor?”
“Good friends.”
Peter nodded, but noticed the professor’s sullen mood. “Is that it?” he wanted to know.
“Well, I am getting old and so, that means I am losing my position here?”
‘Because of why? You’re not so old.”
“Well, Peter, my position here in this university, was dependent upon donations and allocations for my department. All the funds for this department have been cut back from the general fund… and that means when, something changes, if it’s a big enough change, like loss of funds, it’s inevitable other things change with them, like loss of position.”
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