Professors in Love

[darrenfate]

OOC This thread is for Mistress Jorja and myself. If you have an idea for a character that fits into the story please PM me. Please enjoy this unusual approach, and the story itself .

The idea is as follows: Two tenured professors discover a new world of romance and physical bliss. They are pure intellectuals who may be classified as social “misfits” before they find each other. This thread will explore the arcane world of “ivory towers” that are US universities today. With all this in mind we will spice our dialogue with all sorts of obscure though factually accurate references.

IC:

Professor Dana Franklin

Dana Franklin boy genius. At least it seemed to Dana that he never heard his name spoken of in any other way for the past 20 years. Now, at the ripe old age of 36, he found people had finally dropped the “boy” part. High school graduate at 14, doctorate from MIT in physics by 20, he had earned that appellation. Dana was also a maverick in the scientific community. His unique postulations on the origin of the universe and quantum mechanics led to his being spoken of in the same breath as Hawking, Feynman, and Teller.

The fame he brought the University through his publications and stature gave him long term employment stability. There is great power in that as Dana often stretched the Dean of Students patience with his often salty lectures and quirky behavior. Like leaving the windows open in winter while teaching in short sleeves, claiming cold “refreshed the mind”. Still, students enrolled in Yale's physics department every year because they wanted to be taught by the Dr. Dana Franklin.

A driving ambition and a laser-like focus on his research had made him the stuff of legend. These strengths, however, were also his weaknesses when it came to the opposite sex. All the way through school he was just too young and didn’t fit in with all the older more worldly women around him. The fact is despite infrequent offers from his female grad students, he hadn’t had a real woman in his life since, well, ever. The current college kids were just that, college kids. While inwardly flattered Dana never took them seriously. The irony of all this didn't escape Dana. When he was young they were too old. Now that he was older they were too young.

He put on his worsted brown blazer, complete with the requisite professorial brown leather patches on the elbows. The guest lecture tonight was a Case Western University professor speaking on the topic of The Craniofacial Index . It seems there is a statistical correlation between the Craniofacial Index and sleep apnea in adults. Dana always went to these things, he never knew where a good idea would come from. Putting on his overcoat to shield himself from the New Haven Connecticut winter he headed out the door...

 

[Mistress Jorja]

Professor Regina Queenston

the ice queen imbues oration!
speak tho' lips are dry, ragged tongue
lavender thirst, craving theocracy
she avalanches a yawn, boredom
- James Douglas

Regina was know by her students, fondly or otherwise, as the Ice Queen. Perhaps it was left over anger from the assignment she gave all of her freshman on their first day of class - analyzing line for line practically a book's worth of Byron, Keats, and Shelley. Or maybe it was her rigid posture and the cool, unfeeling way she dealt with the troublesome students who hadn't learned quickly enough that her word was the law within room C209.

Perhaps her colleagues echoed that mindset as well, although they had quite a bit more tactful approach about keeping it behind the closed doors of the faculty room. It was well known around campus that Regina would debate any and all subjects, forever insisting that her answer was the only plausible explanation to the question.

Whatever the cause, no one was quite sure what had made her freeze up in the first place.

As author of three volumes detailing the pivotal technical and emotional points of becoming a poet, and joint writer of an additional book that had quite a collection of minor literary awards to it’s name, her position with the University was secure. Brief freelance pieces in a variety of magazines kept her name fresh, and annually helped to draw more students into the English department.

Regina's specialty was Contemporary and Romantic Poetry, even if none of her students could ever imagine her having anything to do with the foolishness of love. She preferred - no, thrived on - leading a strictly academic life. She hadn't been on a date for years, although being in her mid-thirties, she could hardly be considered an old maid. In fact, if it weren't for her social skills, or lack thereof, she would have been alluring. If the blue-gray eyes weren't always gleaming with a cold anger, they could have been beautiful azure pools. If her hair wasn't always tucked back in a neatly pinned bun, the white gold locks might have fallen captivatingly around her shoulders. And if her throaty voice wasn't always criticizing and rebuking it might well have been considered sexy.

But, for reasons yet untold, Regina had lost the grace it took to be a woman and had instead become a muse of the literary arts.

 

[darrenfate]

DANA

Dana was surprised at the attendance. Abysmal. These guest lecture series were usually packed, standing room only enagements. Must be that the weather had kept all the fair weather folks away. Dana sat down in the back, remembering that he had promised to attend the reception afterwards. He sighed, those kind of get togethers never appealed to him but he was committed. He read the program. The speaker was Dr. Mark G. Hans, who is the Chair of Graduate Program in Orthodontics at Case Western Reserve University School of Dentistry. Hans has developed the Craniofacial Index. The lecture began.

The Craniofacial Risk index is the sum of about 14 measurements. When we use these measurements we can predict with 75% accuracy whether or not a person will suffer from sleep apnea or be likely to snore. This is the actual structure of the face as opposed to a measurement of fleshy tissue. Surprisingly, obesity plays little part in this. ...Generally the rounder the head, the more likely people are to snore...

Dana smiled at all this, thinking that this should become a new dating criteria! People could wander around with a tape measure and predict whether their partner would snore when sleeping after sex! Too funny. The lecture soon ended, and Dana walked over to the president's house for the reception...

 

[Mistress Jorja]

Professor Regina Queenston

Looking up at the round analog clock, I put aside the term papers I was grading. Cultural Studies – the issues of ideology, hegemony, and class difference portrayed through poetry and the written word. Gathering my coat and purse, I locked my office carefully and proceeded down the stretching halls of the old school.

Tonight, a Dr. Mark Hans was lecturing on the Craniofacial Index, and it’s relativity to modern-day treatments. These were the type of presentations the English department was seldom invited to attend, but I always found out about them one way or another. Making frequent appearances at academic functions, but routinely skipping faculty parties and such nonsense, was how I kept my reputation as a literary purist.

I had long ago promised myself that I wouldn’t stop learning until I knew everything. Each new idea I was exposed to was a potential spark for creativity. An author writes best from her own experience, and an open-mindedness about all such subjects kept the imagination sharp and the prose fresh. As T. S. Eliot once said "We shall not cease from exploration, and at the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time."

After the lecture, the president was having one of his infamous “receptions,” which in my opinion was merely an excuse made up for the sole purpose of justifying the ridiculous amount of alcohol consumed during such occasions. It was my place to make an appearance, no matter how grudgingly, and despite the resentment and occasional green-eyed jealousy that was aimed in my direction.

Smoothing down my pantsuit, I took a deep breath of the wintery Connecticut air, preparing myself mentally to suffer through another long evening of this essential camaraderie and the necessities of idle chitchat. I would have far rather have been at home, sharing my night with a thick, leather-bound book its pages yellowed with age and velour bindings cracked from its well read conidtion, than with these imbecilic patrons of teaching whom I, sadly, had to call my colleagues.

 

[darrenfate]

DANA

Dana walked quickly. Oddly he never looked up at the night sky with its veritable cornucopia of brilliant stars and extraterrestrial bodies. Dana knew that he would get lost in those sights. All these years as an astonomer and yet he still was transfixed by the overwhelming beauty of what lay so clearly above them. The light now reaching earth had in some cases originated while the pharoahs still ruled Egypt. So near yet so impossibly far away. In some ways the story of his love life all over again.

He reached the house of Dr. Charles Levin, the Yale president and put his coat away. He had not seen Dr. Levin since his trip to China the past May. He chatted with him for a while before he was drawn away. Dana saw the speaker and listened to him regale the surrounding people with his research leading to the development of the Craniofacial index. He turned away after a time, ready to leave, thoughts of the index still buzzing about his facile brain. He stopped to look at the person before him.

Standing with her back to him was a woman. Her hair was all pulled back into a precise bun, allowing Dana to divine the shape of her skull. Hmmm, round and perfectly formed. The Hans ratios seemed to be in order. With the impetuous "aha" of sudden enlightenment Dana spoke aloud.

"It all fits, the theorem that Hans had just postulated. I'll bet that this woman snores while sleeping!"

With a certain horror, Dana realized he had said these words aloud, and as she turned to face him he realized that indeed she had heard him!

 

[Mistress Jorja]

Regina

"'ll bet that this woman snores while sleeping!"

I wasn't the nosy type of person who frequently eavesdropped on other people's conversation; but at this strange line I couldn't help it if my writer's curiosity was peaked. It sounded like a flubbed pickup line – the kind you hear from the regulars at some late night trucker joint, directed towards the waitresses, and the speaker so full of whiskey he has not the slightest clue what he was saying.

Turning away from the conversation dwelling on the rational portrayal of mythical characters in modern-day settings, I found myself looking at another professor. I recognized the face, but the name escaped me. Someone from the science department, most likely, because the scholars of each mixed like oil and water.

By the blush in his face, and the lack of anyone on the receiving end of his comment, I realized that line had been directed at me. I did, in fact, occasionally snore, but it wasn't like there was anyone ever there to notice or be bothered by it...or even that I would admit such a thing to a perfect stranger. Arching an eyebrow, I set my plastic cup of tasteless fruit punch on the piano bench, not sure whether to be amused or offended.

"Excuse me?"

The first this that popped into my mind after I understood that it was to me whom he had accidentally spoke, were Esmond Jones's words.

Just a slip of the tongue, a misused word,
My whole world tumbled, your love swiftly flew;
My rock turned to sand, love is so absurd,
Not like the written word of poets old and new.

 

[darrenfate]

DANA

Dana froze in his tracks. unable to escape. As the woman turned around he groaned inwardly. Not her! Regina. He had been on the receiving end of her rapier like tongue once before. Dana had lost, badly. He remembered the circumstances well.

They had been at a bridge party, he was sitting in as a substitute. They had finished the first rubber with 700 bonus points on a 4 spade bid he recalled. They were chatting waiting for the next table to become free to switch partners. Regina had used the word sabotage to describe how it was her team lost. Dana had piped up with the etymology of the word. He said that it had come from the French term for wanton destruction derives from striking workers throwing wooden shoes, or sabot, into machinery in order to destroy it. Regina had looked at him with amusement and then corrected him.

"Sabotage does indeed derive from the French sabot and from striking workers, but not in the sense suggested. While sabot can mean a wooden shoe, it can also mean a metal shoe or clamp for holding a piece of metal in place (it can also mean a type of anti-tank ammunition, but that's another story). Specifically, sabotage comes from the practice by striking French railway workers of cutting the sabot that held railroad tracks in place.

Regina had looked at him laughing! How Dana hated to be wrong! She admitted she was an English professor then. Now he had insulted her, well at least the shape of her head! God how awkward he felt as her eyes bore into him. He flailed searching for the right words to say in apology, delaying just a little too long. He was beaten before he said a thing. Lamely he said -

"Ohh Regina! I am so, sorry about that. Just spoke out loud there, do forgive me please. It just seems that you have the perfect head shape in Hans proportions to snore...."

Dana's face grew ashen, if there was a hole close by he would have crawled inside it!

 

[Mistress Jorja]

Regina

Merely raising an eyebrow at the professor’s response, I realized exactly who it was I was dealing with. The Dr. Franklin. Of course, how could I forget one of the University’s favorite pets? He had been part of the bridge club I belonged to before I discovered my talent at cribbage. Luckily, he had not shared that interest and our ways had parted.

Unsure how to continue our conversation, I took advantage of the idle time to look around the president’s lavishly decorated sitting room. My eyes lighted upon an antique desk clock, most likely early 1900’s from it’s shape, and etched with the same markings as the London firm that had crafted Big Ben. He certainly had expensive taste; a rare piece in such fine condition as this was easily worth more than what I had taken home this month.

The far wall was covered with a wine rack, the bottles with their faded, peeling labels peeking from individual shelves. Walking over to them, I trailed my finger over the vast selection, critiquing each year silently.

“Golden gleams of sunlight streaming
bring to the soil a crimson glow
as we sit imbibing in this wine so red
and softly sweet, an equilibrium is reached
enthusiasm burning steadily within our souls.”

I quoted, reciting the mellow words in the husky tone I reserved only for poetry readings.

I met Dana’s gaze, remembering our last battle of wits and who had come out on top. Never missing an opportunity to again flaunt my extensive knowledge in all things, I picked up one of the dusty Veuve Cliquot, examining the neck of the bottle closely.

“In the Greek and Roman cultures, wine was kept using wax and resin – effective for the time period, but not at all practical in the sense of the word. The clay amphora jars were difficult to reseal and the wine frequently turned.”

Picking up the bottle-opener/corkscrew combination, engraved with the president’s initials, I turned it over in my hands.

“The bark of cork oak became popular after the invention of the corkscrew, a term that wasn’t fully adopted until around the 1720’s. In literature, though, there are references to bottlescrews and steel worms as early as the mid-17th century.”

 

[darrenfate]

DANA

Dana, at first was mortified that he had said those words aloud, it was so well awkward. When he saw Regina lapse into her academic speech patterns in a curious way he was relieved. This was a game he could play, in fact he had few equals.

Despite her earlier win in their first "battle" of the wits, the game was long and the war comprised many battles. Perhaps Regina foreshadowed the coming encounter as Dana continued the next stanza of her poem...

In turmoil many will be injured;
Even though they may now relax in the cool of the night.
Sombreros and scarves will not protect the soul.
As the phenomenal artistry of the land comes alive with the moon;
Blood red lines fire up the imagination of Masters.

Pausing dramatically for effect, Dana relished his ability to use summon obscure reference data when needed. Here was the perfect vehicle for him. He continued ..

"Oak barrels and amphora jars were all devices to maintain anarobic conditions for the wine dear Regina. Alcohol fermentation is after all simply the formation of alcohol from sugar. Yeast, when under anaerobic conditions, convert glucose to pyruvic acid via the glycolysis pathways, then go one step farther, converting pyruvic acid into ethanol, a C-2 compound. All of this chemical mumbo jumbo results in the fine wines on the rack before you. "

For some odd reason, Dana for the first time just then looked upon Regina the woman. Perhaps it was her delicate fingers that traced their outlines on the bottle that she had picked up. Perhaps it was the husky though utterly feminine voice with which she spoke. Whatever it was, Dana for the second time this evening spoke his mind bluntly -

"You are a very beautiful woman, I don't know why I never noticed before. "

Dana's voice trailed off then, unsure of what to say next ...

 

[Mistress Jorja]

Regina

“Beauty is just who gets the larger half of the proverbial Mendelian stick…but thank you.”

I felt a warm pink flush appear high over my cheekbones. Other professors tended to react to my comments with a cool rebuff of their own. But Dana took me by surprise with his compliment.

I was never comfortable when the subject centered on me, and I felt my mind go blank for a moment - a horribly disconcerting feeling for someone who drew a shaky layer of confidence merely from their intellectual resources. Floundering blindly for someway to fill the awkward silence, I took the first thing relative to the subject of skin deep beauty.

“beauty makes terms
with time and his worms,
when loveliness
says sweetly Yes
to wind and cold;
and how much earth
is Madge worth?”

E.E. Cummings - whose publishers made his entire name lowercase, but whose signature featured three capital letters – was a topic of discussion for today’s class. Setting the bottle gently down, still unopened, I reached for the bland fruit punch, trying to wet my parched throat.

“Edward Estlin is a personal favorite of mine. He did what few other poets could – mixing satire with the serious and tough with the tender. Love is the voice under all silences, the hope which has no opposite in fear; the strength so strong mere force is feebleness: the truth more first than sun, more last than star... If more men took lessons in sensuality from him, the divorce rate would be far lower.”

 

[darrenfate]

" Ahh, fair Regina, beauty is just simply a matter of genes and DNA is it? A most unexpected left brained answer from a woman who clearly has the soul of a poet and the heart of a writer. "

"I simply said what I was thinking, a rare enough occasion in and of itself. I had hoped that among peers, we would be safe to say what we really feel. You have done a marvelous job at avoiding the point of all this. Distraction is a good response when one seeks to avoid the issue at hand. We have both seen students give brilliant answers to the wrong question. You are safe with me, and I hope that I am equally safe with you. "

"Now this conversation can continue on in two ways from my vantage point. We can lapse into a discourse where we collegially talk like this and that, complain of the usual things like the Dean of students and funding as one choice. Or, my preferred path, we could have an honest discussion about our lives, our hopes and desires."

"Believe me, I am most impressed by what you say, you are an academic giant here on campus and deservedly so. I hope that you will not be offended when I tell you that it is not what you say, but how you say it that fascinates me most. Your voice is melodious and strong yet also compelling. I feel like a schoolboy, trying desperately to find a way to keep you talking. I love the voice. So choose Regina. Shall it be conversation "A" or "B"? "

"Oh. And for the record, I still think you beautiful. Your eyes are like limpid pools of mercury swimming in all white seas...."

 

[Mistress Jorja]

Regina

“I assure you my life is anything but interesting – and as if this party isn’t enough already, I wouldn’t want you to fall asleep out of sheer boredom.”

I smiled slightly, unsure why a Professor of such stature would be interested in learning anything about me. Sure, there were many who found my work and studies fascinating, but never the woman behind the quill.

“Arachne, I am not. Weaving a story around myself, and out of thin air at that, is one of the many untimely fates I’ll spare you from this evening. Yet I sense genuine interest, Professor. Why? My words tell the entire story – you really needn’t look deeper than the surface. It’s all there, in black and white, for the world to see, the masses to read, and the few to understand.”

Did he honestly mean what he said? I didn’t know. Sociology had never been one of my strong suits – in the classroom, or in practice. Dana’s compliments, however, had me blushing furiously again. My headstrong surefootedness almost entirely melted away in his presence.

This man was more of a mystery then the disappearance of the nuclear envelope during the prophase of mitosis in a Coregonus clupeaformis cell.

 

[darrenfate]

DANA

Well, the last lame line about Regina' s eyes being pools of mercury she had gracefully held back comment on. Come on Dana, he exhorted himself, you can do better than that! He was in a place that he was unaccustomed to. The role of the nervous erstwhile suitor.

He found himself following her words but was really watching her reactions and her movements. She was quite graceful, her hands and fingers in particular formed long arched lines from her arms. He saw her face redden slightly, was that a blush? Indeed it is! So, perhaps Dana was not the only one with physical feelings towards the other. He heard her say ...

" ...for the world to see, the masses to read, and the few to understand....”

Regina made her last point and paused then, clearly it was his turn -

"My first inclination if this were a "normal" type A conversation would be to comment on the remarkable rebound of the Coregonus Clupeaformis or Lake Whitefish in the Great Lakes. Most attributable, I am sure to the methodical sterilization by the Michigan DNR of Sea Lamprey males in their St. Mary's river spawning grounds."

"I do not choose the easy, comfortable road here Regina. I heard you say something that fascinates me. When I write a white paper I know that few will even ever hear of it, many fewer will read it, and only a literal handful understand the importance of the piece. The structure of the scientific method allows me few creative writing options, and offers no glimpse whatsoever into my own mind."

"Your writing is different. As you say the entire "world" can read, even the dullest can glean something from your work at face value. Ahh but those few that can follow your literary references, those who have read the authors you allude to these are in for a treat. The leaps of analogy you make are positively brilliant, the descriptions you portray make me feel, see, and touch your subjects. Your character, General Jorja Zaroff shall have her place in fictional history long after we are both dust. Your writing has been a window to your mind for me fair Regina, I have read your books, and feel that I know a great deal about you. I feel connected to you.

Never in my wildest dreams though, did I expect to physically feel so drawn to you. Words fail me, words are your forte' not mine. I am overwhelmed by your beauty. Inside and out. May I kiss you ?

 

[Mistress Jorja]

Regina

Swallowing hard, I turned my eyes away from Dana, laughing uncomfortably to break the awkward silence. The wine bottle was still in my hands, and I gripped as if it were to be my only salvation.

“Have you ever tried writing, Dana? There’s more to it then just a naturally poetic soul. Lines and rhymes…meter and time. You’d be surprised at how many scientifically adept take brilliantly to the vast world of creative prose and poetry.”

My slender fingers, which once an Aaron Copland fan had commented looked better suited for a world-class pianist, strayed to my lap.

“It’s a good, therapeutic way to tame the demons of frustrations and get the weight of problems off your shoulders at the end of a difficult day. At least, it’s how I’ve always coped through sun as well as shade.”

Somehow, I had gotten off subject again. Maybe I was avoiding it on purpose. Throughout my life, I had been what some might have fancied an ‘old-fashioned’ girl. The men were supposed to be the ones to ask the women out…not the other way around. Taking a deep breath, I plunged onwards.

“But I digress. What I wanted to know…I mean, if your busy schedule allows for it…and of course if you want to or not…there’s a poetry reading this weekend at the Scientia Coffee House. It’s off-campus a little ways, and I’m doing a poem or two. I guess I’m what you’d call a regular there. And you can read too, of course...but you don’t have too...Listening is fine.”

The heat rising quickly in my cheeks again at this meaningless babble, I contemplated the best way to fill the silence. Shifting slightly and leaning forward, I closed my eyes demurely and brushed my lips softly over Dana’s, lost in the sensations of the moment. I drew back, unsure, the soft warmth lingering.

"And yes, you may kiss me," I whispered quietly.

 

[darrenfate]

DANA

Dana had monopolized her time, and the crowd was already beginning to thin. He had received more than several inquistive looks from colleagues who had waited politely for an opportunity to suck up to him, Regina, or both.

Dana was aware of all this, yet cared not a whit. He had been annoyed at her indirectness at first. Only when he realized that it was her natural nervousness and shyness shining through did he really relax. He hung on every word, then spoke -

"Regina, first of all, I would love attend the reading. I don't have anything of my own to read though. I'll be your most attentive listener. You can tell me all about it as I walk you home. Its only fair, after all I took up your entire evening. I want to make sure that you are safe. Oh and ...."

Dana stepped forward and kissed Regina full on the lips. Startled at first, Regina recovered and kissed him back. With a clatter she dropped the wine bottle to the hard wood floor. Luckily for them it didn't break. All eyes remaining in the room did, however, swing in their direction!

 

[Mistress Jorja]

Regina

I startled myself by leaning into the kiss. It felt good to let myself go for once, instead of being forever the strong one. Dana seemed to be the only person I had ever been able to put my trust in. Melting at his persistent lips, I opened my heavy lids to look around.

My gaze at one fell upon the Dean of students, who was standing grimly in the opposite corner. His stern mouth was set into a thin line and he didn’t even attempt to look like he was having fun. Breaking off the kiss with a start, I turned away from Dana to collect my purse and jacket.

“I’ll meet you at the door in ten minutes,” I told him. He was quite a bit more popular with the faculty then I’d ever be. I knew he’d be cornered more than once in his attempts to leave. Disappearing around the corner and down the hall, I found a tiny powder room.

For once I felt I needed to make a lasting impression. My appearance, although crisp and businesslike at all times, lacked any ounce of femininity. Rummaging through the medicine cabinet, I pulled out an array of cosmetics. The Dean’s wife had more makeup then a MaryKay sales woman, and I had no idea where to start.

My artistic side took control as I brushed on a light layer of foundation. It was a skill you never quite forget…like riding a bicycle. At last, I dabbed on a pale mauve hue, and glanced at the slender sterling watch dangling from my wrist.

Hastily gathering up my belongings, I elbowed my way through the crowd, coolly ignoring any approaches. As I approached the front hall, I was amazed to feel my heart racing. I bit my lip tentatively and held back a moment, breathing deeply to alleviate the nervousness.

Dana caught my eye and gestured for me.

“On the plane of hesitation
bleach the bones of
countless thousands
who on the verge of sucess
sat down to rest
and resting died.”

I murmured the soft words of warning to myself silently, before stepping forward to join him.

 

[darrenfate]

DANA

As his eager student talked Dana swore he was going crazy. He saw the heavy set young man move his lips and heard words but for the life of him, Dana couldn't have cared less what he said. Something about head sizes and the lecture this evening. The lecture! It seemed a thousand miles away and years ago. Yet it had just been that evening. Regina had completely captivated his thoughts.

With a sage nod of his head, Dana muttered something about seeing the boy in class the next day. Later he'd realize that the student had no current classes with him.

The thought of writing poetry to please Regina fired his imagination, he was eager to try his hand at it. These rhyming couplets played in his head, he grinned as he thought of her reaction, hoping she'd be pleased :

Newton's Motion, second Law
says that for every single act you saw
reacting swiftly just as fast
Is an opposite one that will last
exactly as long as the first movement
the formula allows for no improvement
So all in all it comes to this
What will happen when we kiss?

As Regina joined him Dana noticed her makeup change, and nodded approvingly. He held out his arm, and they strolled to the door. He opened it wide for her, chivalry never dead within his breast. She stepped forward and he joined her walking out into the chilly night ...

 

[Mistress Jorja]

Regina

Looking both ways surreptitiously, I made sure I had ducked Mrs. Fracks for the evening. She was the dotty old Botany professor that insisted on knowing the full extent of everyone’s business. I wasn’t in the mood to be the blaring headlines at tomorrow’s faculty lunch. To some degree, I was embarrassed with this sliver of newfound femininity that I was flaunting to the world.

Strolling as casually as I could manage, arm in arm with Dana, I hoped it didn’t show that it had been a laughable four years since I had let a man get even this close.

We walked down the Maple-lined streets of the college town. I tugged on my black gloves – the leather kind made for driving expensive Italian sports cars. The red Maserati, perhaps, that had been the lustful “naughty” object of my teenage years as opposed to any boy.

My grasp tightened on his arm occasionally as I stumbled over a stray pebble or loose rock every now and then. These reoccurring incidents, combined with the wine he had convinced me into imbibe, gave me a rare case of the giggles.

As we walked through the streetlight speckled residential neighborhood, we chatted idly about everything unimportant in life. I told him a little about what the coffee house was like, a few refreshingly humorous accounts of my latest creative writing assignment on the student’s families, and rambled embarrassingly about my cat Onyx who was probably the last and only member of the opposite sex to hear me talk on like this.

Although I had been dreading the walk, I felt myself surprisingly disappointed as we reached my front porch. Rummaging in my coat pocket, I pulled out a set of keys on a single, no-nonsense silver chain.

“Professor Fran…Dana…thank you. Walking me home really was quite unnecessary; but I’ll concur that it was the pièce de résistance to a most interesting evening.”

 

[darrenfate]

DANA

Dana walked and talked lightheartedly the entire way back to her place. He felt like a kid, he was happy to let Regina talk. As she waxed on about the coffee house, he could see her eyes shine with unvarnished pleasure. More than anything else, Dana wanted to make her feel like that.

The brisk night went unnoticed, Regina's cheeks glowed a healthy pink from the wind. As she stood on her front stoop and sopke, Dana lost all his bravado.

She clearly wanted to go inside, and suddenly he remembered all the awkwardness that had been for so long his constant companion. He stepped forward and gave her a perfunctory hig and then said -

"I really look forward to seeing you tomorrow night at the coffee house. I'll be there at 7 PM just like you said. Goodnight Professor".

With that he turned and walked away. He got about 10 paces before he realized how lame that had sounded. He heard her door open and close behind home. Professor! Why had he said that? Her name is Regina . <Heavy sigh>. Well, he wasn't going to let those last few moments spoil an otherwise great night.

When he arrived at home, Dana put on Al Di Meola, the Egyptian Danza track. Di Meola had the kind of sheer technical speed and wizardry on an electric guitar that made the scientist part of Dana revel in its sheer virtuousity.

Dana put on the water for some green tea, and settles in at an antique wood desk to write. He was determined to try his hand at poetry. Somehow he trusted Regina not to laugh at his unpolished style. His thoughts drifted to her again, especially the kiss they shared. He began to write a poem -

Atoms were once thought to be ....

 

[Mistress Jorja]

Regina

Shutting the door behind Dana, I couldn’t resist watching him trot down the steps and walk away at a leisurely pace. Pulling myself away from the peephole, I leaned against the door for a second to keep a short burst of laughter from bubbling up inside me.

Allowing myself the sinful indulgence of a victorious squeak, I tossed my keys onto the front table and snapped on a light. Onyx was peering down at me from his throne at the top of the stairs, wondering what had gotten into me. I, vainly, ignored him.

Too emotional to sleep, I dragged out the manual typewriter. It had seen four full-length manuscripts, two poetry collections, numerous edited student anthologies, and the occasional theatrical script. And tonight, I hoped, it would also see a masterpiece or two. I needed something with a little kick to it for my coffeehouse venture: zest and spice…mystery and intrigue…words that bit back.

Crumpling my first few attempts, I shot three-pointers with them into the wastebasket on the opposite side of my study. I sat and stared out the window for a long moment, my reflection gazing passively back at me, inquisitive eyes bright. Finally, the words began to flow, and I started to write, unsure of the finished product even as the first letter was written.

for the foolish and naïve
the young and unbound optimist
it all starts with one look
one word, one touch, one kiss

the bitter ecstasy
of gnawing on an aspirin
dried up plains of love
desolate and barren

jaded by an untamed breeze
emerges the timeworn pessimist
whom, day and day on end debates
nothing more poisonous than one kiss

 

[darrenfate]

DANA

The time passed oh so slowly, as morning became afternnoon then finally evening. Dana was stuck on the ends of the poem, both ends actually. He knew what it was he wanted to say although the words themselves eluded him.

He was struck by the fact that the words he selected were really "chosen in" as opposed to any other kind of writing style. Each word had its audition solo, then in front of the others in its couplet and finally in the overall construct of the verse. Words that made the first cut, sometimes lost out in the end as whole couplets and stanzas were discarded. The process fascinated Dana, more so than almost anything else had ever done.

Finally the moment was at hand. The clock showed a bare 6:00 pm, but Dana chose to stroll there early and get a lay of the land. The Scientia Coffee House was but a brisk 20 minute walk away. His completed, neatly folded poem was safe in his breast pocket. Dana could swear his heart thumped so loud that passers by would stop and stare.

The place was a marvel of old grinding machines with every coffee type imaginable available for purchase. Indian Malabar, Jamaiican Blue Mountain, Blue Java, Sulawesi, and Mocha from Yemen to name a few lined the walls. He saw a space for tables off to the right. Already a few long haired collegues of his from the social sciences that he barely recognized began to drift in.

Regina would know them all, he was sure. Regina. What was it Churchill has said? Something like a riddle inside an enigma wrapped in a mystery. An apt description of her. Deep and layered. Still, though despite all her intellectual credentials, Dana was most attracted to her physical beauty. He longed again for her kiss and to hold her in his arms...

 

[Mistress Jorja]

Regina

The coffeehouse was sandwiched between a used bookstore, a treasure chest for the knowledge-hungry, and a dust-laden antique store. It was hardly distinguishable from the outside; certainly not somewhere that someone would wander into on a whim. The group that gathered there was eclectic, but tight, due to the word-of-mouth only reputation.

It was one of the few places I could relax and almost be myself. Scientia felt more like a home than my gingerbread Victorian, with it’s sprawling lawn and Parthenocissus tricuspidata-covered stone garden walls.

On the outskirts of the artsy district, it was walk-able from my house, one of the many benefits living in a college town.

Spotting Dana the moment I entered, the bells jangling giddily above the door, I slid down in a chair across from. I smiled as I saw him sqinting at the vast menu, done in flowing script and a rainbow of chalk colors.

“A bit daunting, isn’t it?” I set my portfolio on the glass-topped table, scanning the crowd intently.

“I recommend the caffe macchiato…the only better I’ve had was in Bologna itself, Guerrazzi Street.”

 

[darrenfate]

DANA

Dana stood as Regina breezed in, felling a little awkward. He wanted to embrace her with a big bear hug, but his academic sense of the "politically correct" held him back in front of strangers. He was unsure of his status with her. "Male friend" seemed too impersonal, "Boy friend" too strong. The scientist in him needed a label for everthing. It was the order of things. All living organisms are divided into 5 Kingdoms: Plants, Fungi, Animals, Protoctista and Bacteria. From there phylum, class, order, family, subfamily and genus. Where he fit in Regina's life he had no idea. If she would just give him an org chart ....

"Hello, Regina! Great to see you. I'll have that coffee. I've always dreamed of traveling to Italy, perhaps some day ..."

Regina had no such thoughts about how he and she fit into th egrand scheme of things. . She was happy just to be here and settled in opposite him. Dana was overwhelmed suddenly at the vast differences between them. He felt very self conscious all of a sudden. Nervously he turned his poem over and over in his hands.

A large man with a Mormon's goatee and no mustache stood and got the group's attention. He welcomed everyone, then volunteered himself to kick things off. With a slightly trembling hand he stood and recited a beautifully crafted poem. Dana's eyes widened. The ability to put together words that didn't rhyme but still fit together in a poignant way was far beyond his talents. He glanced over at Regina, who was looking at him with an amused look on her face. Why, Dana had no clue -

"What ?" was alll he was able to muster...

 

[Mistress Jorja]

Regina

Applauding quietly, Regina sipped her caffe macchiato slowly, nodding in recognitions of her cue to go next. Soothing out her portfolio, she cleared her throat, walking to the front of the room. Winking at Dana as she did so, she leaned on the podium, flipping open to her book-marked page.

“This was an experimental piece, written between Robert Scott – whom some of you may know as one of the most popular contemporary local poets – and myself. The original was a bit longer, consisting of a conjunction of many art forms exchanged over a period of time between us, but it was toned down a bit for this reading.”

Tilting her head slightly in recognition of the applause, she continued, her voice changing like the folds of damp velvet with each inflection.

The berries set you all aflame,
Like underground fire, no on
Knows, or can tell the pain you feel.

The masonry from heaven
Descends on you and
You get hungry;

The brick beautiful,
The pavlovian “fall upon me”
But no. The Wafer wild and

Random lets you just ache
In absence, you can almost
Taste it as it leaves you strewn
Wide, in this, Your Lunch of Linger

And this is when, (you know it),
Water walks by, in all her fluidity,
Looking for this fire, and gives
You the “once-over.”

You go and give her the finger-

Its tip all stained black, the only
Sign of your incineration.

The smolder so quiet, You
Can hear your sins, ashwhite.
You don’t even burn, just sinder.

Then the Wind will come and blow
You into a thousand implications.
Don’t fight Her – Just patience,
Patience.

Pursing her lips, she glanced at the crowd, judging and measuring their reactions. Before, Regina thought as she sat again nervously, she had been able to treat Dana as just another colleague.

Everything go more complicated as time moved on. In Aristotle’s age, animals were classified by where they lived: sky, earth, or water. But when Linnaeus came along, he was able to alter 2,000 years of thinking, single-handedly. Now, taxa were determined by such complexities as internal structure, biochemistry and evolutionary phylogeny.

Yes, she had been able to treat him as the professor next door, because that’s exactly what he had been. But now, she had born a bit of her soul to him – not to mention the whole room. He had seen a bit of the real Regina, beneath the Starbucks attitude and business suit demeanor. Now, it wasn’t quite as easy to keep up her act.

 

[darrenfate]

Exquisite!

Dana was moved by the powerful images of Regina's words and the seemless way in which these non rhyming stanzas fit together. The ability to create a poem like that was far, far beyond his grasp. The thought of her corresponding with the great Robert Scott made him feel strangely jealous. It was a perfectly natural thing to do of course, Dana himself had frequent exchanges with such luminaries as Stephen Hawking, Daniel Tsui and W.D Phillips. Yet for the first time in memory, Dana was green with envy.

Regina settled in back at his table, a look of triumph etched on her face. My God, Dana thought, she is beautiful. Several others spoke, always with a passion for their subject but perhaps without the magical quality that Regina's words had possessed. There was a lull in the proceedings, and Dana knew it was now or never. Regina sensed his hesitation, and held out her hand to his giving him unspoken encouragement. Dana stood and made his way to the front. Clutching his poem, he began to speak feeling slightly better with each passing sentence -

"Hello. And thank you for the warm welcome. This is my first poem and as befits an effort of this kind I have chosen a subject not far from my home ground. There are not many poems that have scientific topics so, I did not find many role models. I can only hope for two things. One is that you forgive the sometimes awkward choice of words, I read somewhere that poets "select in" the right words to fit their poetry. I did indeed get my first taste of that creative process. Secondly, I hope that you get as much enjoyment from it that I did in its writing. I now present, Discovery.

Atoms were once thought to be
Indivisible blocks of life
It took but one Clear Eye to see
That you could cut them as with a knife

Photons were the first ones found
Positive charges now laid bare
All of science heard the sound
Discovery filled the air

Unto this mix electrons enter
To balance the photons plus
Polarity achieved, charges centered
Equilibrium always a must

Neutrons then became the glue
At first they were just a guess
The idea stuck, then rang true
The atom now not a mess

The Clear Eyed One, the first to peak
Gave mankind a gift of size
For in this quest for truth to seek
He won the Nobel prize

What relevance this you ask of me
Is your poem not at an end?
When I’m done I hope you’ll agree
There is a message I need you to send

I fell swiftly for you, stars in my eyes
A willing receiver of your kiss
Then shock set in for to my surprise
A large part of you I almost missed

I thought at first I knew you
Your life an open book
But as time passed, wiser I grew
As the atom’s lesson I took

For in your being I found great light
Then contrasting shades of dark
The positive ironically brightest at night
Negative lurking, its difference stark

Like a gem with it’s polished faces
Reflect differently from each point of view
Revealed different personality traces
That I only wish I knew

You the woman are very complex,
Ambitions, dreams, goals, and sorrow
Passion, intelligence, politics and sex
I could list traits until tomorrow

Emotions tumble over me, cresting on a wave
To be your Clear Eyed seeker bent to the task
It’s for this, your permission that I crave
To be your Einstein is what I humbly ask

Dana was breathing hard as he finished, and although he was eagerly looking forward to gauging Regina's reaction, he had steadfastly avoided her eyes the entire time. There was a polite smattering of applause, and Dana made his way back to her table. Her upturned hand awaited his and he slowly raised his gaze to meet hers ....