Mind Change

by T'Gracie Reese

  She paused for a second, and then went on:

  “We the Board of Directors heard the president’s proposals for the first time at our ten o’clock meeting this morning. The rest of the board and I were shocked, as you may suppose. But out of our great respect for her, and for the memory of her honored husband, we decided rather than to act on a motion of immediate dismissal, we would plead with her simply to take no action for the remainder of the day––and week––while we were attempting to contact other leading figures of the university community, such as the Provost, Vice President for Daily Operations, Executive Chancellor, and others.

  She paused to let that sink in.

  A north wind freshened. It was becoming cooler, and the huge lights glared on the faces of the people ringed behind her, and standing just in front of the columns of the buildings.

  “Unfortunately, our strategy failed. The President, for her part, did not allow us the time she had promised, but proceeded to hold a completely unauthorized meeting with our valued part-time faculty, whom she cruelly deceived. Now, in retrospect, it is clear what the duty of the board should have been. We should have relieved the President of her duties immediately and asked the Provost to assume her duties while a search was made to replace her. Failing to do so, we failed our entire university community, and other similar communities around the county. And for this we are so, so, sorry.”

  Finally, she said:

  “Our only recourse, as we watched these sad and almost unbelievable events unfold, was to work through the university itself, and contact as many parents, as many members of the university community, as we could, and invite them here tonight––along with members of the local and national media, who have likewise been deceived––so that we could clarify, personally, the situation as it now stands. We will be doing this in a very few minutes. I would like now, though, before we proceed farther, to introduce the Provost of this university, Dr. Charles Iverson. I can announce now that Dr. Iverson will be assuming the duties of the President for the immediate future. Dr. Iverson?”

  The Provost followed her to the microphone.

  “I’ve just flown in from Vicksburg, and I may appear a bit haggard. But let me begin by saying how much I appreciate Barbara’s comments, and how deeply grieved I am to be assuming duties which, as challenging as they are, will of course prove even more daunting because of the course of events today. I regret the comments that came from the Office of the President, and must say quickly and clearly: our faculty will continue in their present duties, as will our administration. Any contracts that have been forced upon them within the past hours are specious, and non-binding, as are any retirement agreements. I will, in the course of a very few minutes, be making these points clear to the parents of our students, who are, rightfully, almost in shock about the news of the firings of their children’s teachers.”

  Short pause. Then:

  If there is one good thing about this situation, it is that it affords me the opportunity to reconfirm to the entire academic community, to our students, to our parents, to the nation, and to the world, that this university has assumed gladly, is assuming, and will continue to assume its crucial role as a major research institution.”

  Another pause.

  “What is such an institution? That question defies the simple answer, due in no short part because of the growing complexity of the world in which we live. But suffice to say, that it is a community of scholars living, interacting, working non-stop, on the cutting edge of all we know––on the cutting edge of medicine, or history, of literature. It is a community of minds pledged to the daunting––yes, sometime even the terrifying––task of extending forward the very boundaries of human existence. We have in our midst—and are extremely privileged to have gathered in our midst—a number of the greatest minds living, working, and writing, today. If we, as a community, as a group of administrators, can support, nourish, inspire these minds, then I can promise you, we will cure cancer!”

  Applause from some people in the now-growing media crowd.

  “And we will go not just to the moon, but Mars––and beyond!”

  More applause.

  “We will plumb the depths of the ocean, and unlock its mysteries. We will go to the very heart of the beginnings of life itself, as our partnership with the great Fermi Atomic Particle lab shows that we are already doing. Are there those who question the need for the human mind to be ever-probing? Of course. Are there those who ask for the immediate gratification of tangible proof, concerning the uses of their hard earned tax dollars? Of course, there are! There have always been the forces of anti-intellectualism. But because mankind has triumphed over those forces, we have the cameras that you are focusing on this podium today; we have the automobiles which you have driven here; we have the medicines that have prolonged and are prolonging our very lives. And so, to those who question the commitment of this great institution to the cause of research, be it medical, agricultural, economic, humanistic…I say no. No! We will never back away from our challenge. Never!”

  More applause.

  “As far as the events that have transpired today, we all deeply regret them. They have been brought about by accusations of waste and of poor oversight. Of course, we are concerned by such accusations. It is the job of the highly-trained administrators of this university to ferret out waste. We don’t want it; we shan’t countenance it. If it exists, we will root it out. This is the work that we are continually trying to do, and we will never waver. Given that these regrettable events have awakened public concern across the country—yes, I’m sure you’ve all heard the talk shows––”

  Laughter.

  “––given that fact, I am personally organizing a fact-finding committee, headed by myself, and augmented by the Chancellor, Vice Chancellor, Director of Human Resources, Director of Institutional Planning, and Vice Director of The General Fund…to find out if there is something truly behind these accusations, and do what we can to stop them.”

  More applause.

  “I also wish to stress this point. Yes, we are committed to the vitally important world of research, and to playing our part in that infinitely complex world. But we are committed most of all––to our students.”

  Louder applause.

  “Our research and our teaching—of those students, those precious students, those leaders of tomorrow—go hand in hand, and always shall go hand in hand.”

  Same level of applause.

  “Finally, I must offer my most sincere apologies to a special group of those who have been misled by comments coming from the Executive Office. We shall, of course, be studying in weeks and months to come, ways to expand both the role and the compensation of one of our most valued resources: that is, our adjunct faculty. We could not get along without these folks, who help out those of us in the actual university community daily, in a wide variety of roles. Just give us time.”

  A pause. Then:

  “It remains only for me to say how deeply disappointed, and angered I am at our local media outlets. The story that appeared in The Gazette this morning made it appear that the board, at least for a time, was supporting the actions of the president.”

  Upon hearing this Rick stepped forward and said, firmly:

  “They did support her actions.”

  “That,” said the provost, his voice rising, his face reddening, “is a lie!”

  A hush fell over the crowd.

  Nina, to her surprise, found herself taking Rick’s hand.

  How long had it been since she’d held a man’s hand?

  The provost:

  “Mr. Barnes, you should be ashamed of yourself. You wanted to write a sensational story, and you did.”

  “I wanted to write the truth, which is what I have been doing all my life.”

  “You wanted your name out there. And it was. Stories by Rick Barnes, distributed to the Associated Press, running in The New York Times.”

  Rick took another step forward, taking Nin
a with him.

  He and the provost were no more than five feet apart.

  No one else in the crowd moved or spoke.

  “Do you realize, Mr. Barnes, how many people have been cruelly deceived by your desire for sensational publicity?”

  “The only deception involved is going on right now, and it’s being perpetrated by you,” replied Barnes.

  “Again, sir, I tell you: that’s a lie, it’s a damned lie.”

  “Say that again, you son of a bitch, and you’ll regret it,” said Barnes.

  “I already regret a great bit,” countered the Provost. “I regret that I wasn’t present at the meeting this morning to prevent this massive fraud you’ve perpetrated. But I can tell you, you won’t get away with it. The university is taking two courses of action: first, we are demanding that The Gazette terminate your contract immediately.”

  Nina moved closer to Rick.

  Her arm was around him now, and she found herself holding tightly.

  She was trying to hold him back.

  But failing.

  His eyes were flashing, his breath heaving.

  “Second, we are preparing a major lawsuit against the paper. It has acted irresponsibly and caused great suffering.”

  “It has done its job and so have I.”

  “What you have done is attract national publicity. What were you attempting to do, Mr. Barnes?”

  And now the provost looked directly at Nina:

  “Were you trying to impress your new girlfriend?”

  Two flashbulbs went off.

  Then Rick lunged forward:

  “Uggghhh!”

  He was out of Nina’s grasp immediately, and before she could even scream, the two men were writhing on the ground, clawing at each other, their shoes kicking wildly and becoming entangled with the electric wires which seemed, like writhing snakes, to be everywhere.

  Now everyone was screaming, or shouting, or cursing, or pushing forward, or pulling back.

  Finally, several policemen had gotten Rick and the provost onto their feet, separated them, and cordoned them off, so that they could no longer see each other.

  “Rick!”

  Nina tried to reach him but could not.

  Within five minutes order was restored.

  Somehow, neither the provost nor the reporter who’d attacked him had sustained any major injury, although Rick was clearly giving away a great deal of height and weight to his huge adversary.

  Rick’s chin, Nina could see, was bleeding slightly.

  He sat beside her on a straight chair, daubing at the scratch.

  The press conference had broken up, with the group of suits and politicians threading their way toward the entrance to the field level, the provost among them.

  An older police officer stood before Rick and addressed him:

  “You all right, sir?”

  Rick nodded.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “I’m supposed to interrogate you.”

  “All right. Whatever.”

  “The people from the university are pretty mad.”

  “I’m pretty mad, too.”

  “They want me to arrest you and take you downtown.”

  “Can they order you to do that?”

  “No, sir. I act on my own discretion.”

  “Did you see what happened?”

  “Yes, sir. I was right there.”

  “Did you hear what he said?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What would you have done?”

  “Broken his jaw.”

  Rick shook his head.

  “I’m not that good at fighting.”

  “Well, Mr. Barnes, next time you just ask me.”

  “Is the provost going in there to speak?”

  “Yes, sir. Unfortunately, you didn’t hurt him.”

  “You realize I have to cover the story.”

  “If that’s what you have to do, Mr. Barnes, I’m not going to stop you. Just try to stay far away from the provost. Or anybody wearing a suit for that matter.”

  “All right. Thank you, officer.”

  “That’s quite all right. And remember: next time you just ask me.”

  The officer left.

  Within five minutes, they’d entered the stadium, and were making their way toward the top row.

  “Are you all right, Rick?” Nina asked.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry about that. I kind of lost control.”

  “Well, he was lying. We were both at the board meeting. We both know what they did. And didn’t do,” she said.

  “Yes, he was lying.”

  “Do you think they’ll really sue the paper?” Nina asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Everything he said was wrong. Vile and wrong,” she said.

  “Not everything.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “So what did he say that was not vile and wrong?”

  Rick smiled at her:

  “He said you were my girlfriend.”

  They continued to climb.

  The first thing that caught Nina’s eye was a row of chestnut-brown horses stretched across the field, each horse seeming sixty feet tall or so, each one standing perfectly still, each one ridden by a soldier.

  At precisely eight o’clock, a row of dignitaries paraded up onto the podium.

  Barbara Richardson tapped the microphone, as she had done earlier in the press conference.

  There was no sound, though.

  The microphone was dead.

  Then the lights in the stadium went out, and the Jumbotron—that is, the giant scoreboard above the North end zone stands––lit up.

  And there, in full color, on a giant television, was Lucinda Herndon, dramatically swinging open the doors of the Residence veranda and sweeping forward, to a microphone set up just in front of the rose bushes.

  “I don’t believe this,” whispered Rick.

  “I want to thank,” she said, beaming, “all of the parents and students who have come out this evening. I also want to thank Barbara Richardson, the esteemed chairperson of our Board of Regents, and Dr. Charles Iverson, who had until today, served us in the capacity of Provost. Please give them a hand.”

  Twenty thousand people in the stands applauded politely.

  The stage in the center of the field was in complete darkness, and the microphones did not work.

  You could see the forms that had once been dignitaries, and had now become shadows, remain absolutely motionless.

  “Lucy, I love you,” Nina whispered,

  The President continued:

  “Will you please watch the screen?”

  Her image disappeared, and was replaced by that of a lush green meadow, dotted with trees and magnificent, ten-story, white buildings.

  “What you see before you is a projection of the newest addition to the university. It will comprise fifty acres of land.”

  Ooooohhhs and aaaaahhhhs from the crowd.

  “And there will be twenty new ten-story buildings, which will be used for classrooms, dormitory space, and living space for new faculty. The addition will be called “The Richardson Complex,” in honor of the Chairperson of our Board of Regents, Barbara Richardson. Barbara––”

  A spotlight shone straight on Barbara Richardson.

  She smiled.

  “Will you please wave to the crowd, Barbara?”

  “If she waves––” Rick whispered.

  Barbara Richardson waved.

  “––then Herndon’s won. I’ll be damned.”

  The image of Lucinda Herndon reappeared on the screen.

  “The second announcement is one that I make with mixed joy and regret. I did accept the early resignations of a number of our faculty and staff earlier today. That is the matter of regret. My joy though comes from the fact that, due to these early retirements plus a wonderful and unexpected gift from an anonymous group of donors, we will be able to cut tuition and fees for the following year at
this university, plus the overall cost of attending school here, that is, books, food, lodging, etc.––costs which had amounted, as you know, to slightly under twenty-five thousand dollars per year––by one half!”

  A gasp from the crowd.

  “You have understood me correctly. You will only be paying one half of what you were paying last year.”

  And then cheering.

  And then standing cheering.

  Nina looked around. Men were hugging men, women were hugging each other—the very columns in the stadium seemed to be crying.

  The chanting started:

  Herndon! Herndon! Herndon!

  Finally, it died down enough so that she could say:

  “And now would you all join me in singing our National Anthem.”

  Everyone stood up.

  Piped music began.

  Ooww say can you see––

  A hush. Soft voices singing. Cathedral like silence. Some tears coming now.

  And the rockets red glaare!

  The bombs...etc. etc.

  Wild cheering beginning with––

  Laaand of the freee!

  ––and complete and utter jubilation by the end of braave!

  Then, for one last time, the beaming image of Lucinda Herndon in front of the wide veranda doors of the Residence, blowing a kiss and saying:

  “Good night, everyone! And May God Bless!”

  CHAPTER TEN: OYSTERS

  “That’s the most remarkable thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” said Rick, rising from his seat.

  Nina was about to answer—although it would have been difficult, given the melee that was going on around them—when she was approached by an undergraduate boy who wore a pony tail and had thick, black, horned-rim glasses. The boy bent low and said quietly: “You’re Ms. Nina Bannister?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “I’m one of President Herndon’s aides. She said I was to locate you, and give you this letter.”

  “Thank you.”

  She opened the letter and read:

  “Please join me for a late dinner after the meeting at the stadium. We’ll have oysters! If you walk to the residence, just wait for me at the back entrance. I’ll be there a bit after nine.”