Chapter 7: Something brought you back to the kid that you were.

July 31st, 2020, San Luis Obispo, California - Earth

The one thing Charles Short liked about summer school was that the grading was easier. He had just finished the morning tests when an e-mail popped in. “Make up exam.” He was almost done! Four weeks of vacation until fall classes started, and of course one last thing pops up.

The name was hidden, all it had was a student's number 20010802. He hated this. Either this test would have everything wrong, or it was some bright genius who signed up for the course and never attended a class. He started grading, but there was a knock at the door that interrupted him.

She was not young, about forty, long brown hair, too thin dress barely strapped to her overexposed shoulders. It didn't convey authority or even sexiness for a woman her age, but it was fine attire for late summer. It was hot and no one should be here. “Hey, Charles, still here? I thought I was the only one left.”

“Candace! I didn't know you taught this summer. I have one more test to grade and I'm out.”

“OH, well, in that case.” She reached down and picked up a coffee cup. “I got a free extra coffee today, I just went with black. Would you like it?”

He began to nod, and then spoke up, “Yes. It's certainly been a summer. I think I might actually be done. I'm not sure if I'm coming back. Certainly not doing summer school again.”

Candace handed him the coffee and sat down opposite him. Doctor Short kept glancing back at the test. The first page looked correct.

“It can be hard. It feels like the students are either getting dumber or they don't need our help. The actual students we can mold and teach just don't exist anymore.” She sucked a bit at her straw and iced coffee.

The second page was all perfect. Shit a smarty pants. “Yes, I met a student who was perfect. I think I loved her. I thought she loved me, but she wanted something else. Her dad maybe. Is that weird? I didn't want to be objectified.” That was not how he meant to describe what happened when speaking with colleagues. A friend maybe if he had one.

She shook her head, “You guys actually do it?”

“What, no, she wanted me to put her in diapers. Read her physics papers to bed.” Charles said with a downbeat.

“What's wrong with that? I mean, other than the whole sleeping with a student.” Candace's switch of tone was fast enough for Charles to understand he had crossed a line.

“Oh, right, I hmm...” He had gotten used to just accepting he wanted to sleep with a student, and forgot it was inappropriate to mention. That actually was a lose your job thing. Why had he been so loose about that? The coffee tasted too sweet and was freeing his tongue.

“It was just a summer class. That doesn't count. I told her to go away, and I gave her an Aye minus. She was brilliant though. She had memorized the first chapter of the book, so probably didn't even need me to teach her.”

Candace shrugged, “I guess that's one solution. Just bribe them with a good grade to not sleep with you. I always thought it was the other way around.”

Page three was perfect. This was going too easy, definitely one of those smart boys who never attended class. He would have to find out who 20010802 is and maybe see if he was looking for an advisor. Would be good to have one last prodigy under his wing, he could be on the kid's wiki page someday.

“Where'd you get this coffee? It seems off.” He kept drinking the large cup. He needed to wake up to finish grading. Page four, Perfect. Dang. He submitted the grade. The software informed him he had already entered one. Probably just accidentally put in a zero when there was no original test. It asked if wanted to overwrite it. If he was fast enough looking at the students’ names, he could see whose grade changed. There were not too many to look at, he could see a change happen in real time.

Candace ignored his question, “In fact, that still seems like an abuse of power. Of authority. I think you should strongly consider retiring. If it's getting this bad in a summer class, imagine how bad it'll be in the fall. The urges will get worse.”

The coffee tasted like chocolate. Mocha flavor?

“Some girl or maybe a boy. I'm not sure if you would swing that way. She's going to show up next semester, deeply confused, get attached to you, ask you to be her daddy. Are you still going to say no the second time it happens? How about the third? In this case, I don't think you should be a professor here. Go back to being just a Mr. Short. It's incontinence - a showing of a lack of self-restraint. If you can't control yourself, you don't deserve to be a teacher.” Charles did not hear a word of her dress down.

He looked at the score, go from A- to A+, Grace Wu-Finnigan.

Wu. That was it. He knew a Mira Wu back when taught at Caltech a couple decades ago. That was quite the mess! Part of the reason he ended up here. He wondered if the two were related. Probably not, it was a common name.

20010802.

Oh, those are birthdays! He had worked at Cal Poly for almost twenty years and never learned that. If Grace's birthday is August two thousand and one, that means.

Halloween – two thousand. Mira was not technically his student at the time. It did not count.

The chocolate milk tasted funny.

Candace was looking at him as he struggled through that realization. He needed to say something and regain control.

“Look, we didn't sleep together, and I solved it. If the school wants to drag me down for this, I will destroy them. I know everyone's secrets. Including yours Ms. Sacagawea.” Candace looked at the man as if he had just aged thirty years. Like Grandpa Simpson yelling at the clouds. Maybe fifteen years ago lying about her parentage would have been a scandal. Now? No one cared.

“You didn't sleep with your daughter Charlie, but you slept with her mother.” She let that linger.

“It was a pleasure working with you.” Candace left, throwing what remained of her drink in the trash near the door. She eyed the room again, “I think I'll keep my office for the fall semester, but maybe move here for the spring. The Aye-Cee is better in here.”

He wanted to sleep with his daughter. He almost slept with his daughter! He was going to have some serious … mommy? issues from that. The coffee was getting to him. It was going straight to his bladder. He needed to get out of here. Two weeks to recharge and he would be back to normal. He could go another twenty years teaching. He moved quickly to clean up any last things, e-mails, notes on the desk, even looking for leftover food or cups. He wanted a clean slate for when summer vacation was over.

Knock-Knock.

This was the face of someone he did not want to see.

“Ms. Wu-Finnigan. I believe I told you I didn't want you in my life anymore.”

She moved forward and plopped into the chair Candace had vacated.

“I've come to the conclusion what I need to tell you, you actually need to hear. It doesn't work if I just passively try to expose you to this. This isn't like radiation; it has to directly hit you.”

Candace. She had told Candace what had happened, and they had tried to get him to resign and move on, and now his former student (he was not ready for the other word) was going to make the case to him directly. He needed to know what exactly she thought happened. Just stay calm, be in charge, he did not actually sleep with his student.

“Go ahead and say what you need to.” His request was with a seriousness and coldness. Like what she planned to say was not going to matter, but it was the polite and courteous thing was to allow her to speak.

“I've got a recording here; I think you should listen to it. Then we'll talk about it, and we'll see where you want to go from there.” She came over to the desk, pulling out her phone from a pocket.

Recording? Him and Grace? He did say he wanted to sleep with her the last time they met. Or maybe something even older? With him and Mira? Could her mom have kept something? This could be bad.

He should have objected, he wanted this to be over quick. He had to go to the restroom, and he did not have time to horse around. Then he heard his dad speaking.

It was strange that Grace would take out ear plugs, but not as strange as hearing his dad on a modern iPhone. That was a real disconnect for him. His dad had passed away in the nineties, and this sounded much younger. He listened to every word. And then Grace replayed the recording. Over and over. Three, four, five times. She made sure to keep it on loop until he let it all go.

There is a symmetry to it. Sixty years ago, on Charles Short's first day of school, he had an accident as well. It went through his dress pants and into the chair. It pooled onto the floor. Just like then his mommy was understanding.

Grace had a change of pants ready and a diaper. Daddy had given Charlie lots of special instructions. He had to listen to her and help her, and read for her, and be a big boy, and there was more but it was harder to remember what daddy had said separately from just things Charlie already knew to be true.