The Bet (Persaud Girl)

by Mott, Teisha

  Andie sighed. How was she supposed to write a paper eight pages long on a subject as mundane as the US Presidential elections?

  “Will it matter?” She muttered through the pen cap, which was now chewed and frayed. “Well, it sure as hell won’t matter to me.” She sighed. Professor Brown, a.k.a. Uncle Marcus, was such a sweetheart when he sat at her family’s barbecue table, or when he joined them on Grandpa’s yacht. But, like Daddy, he was a total ogre when she met him in classroom. Andie knew that despite her best efforts, Professor Brown would not oblige her with more than a ‘B’. Only his precious goddaughter, ‘Samantha Doll’, could ever eke out an ‘A’ in his GT11A – Introduction to Political Institutions.

  “Hello, Andie!”

  She snapped to attention and looked into the dark brown eyes of Nathan Hansen. He was smiling down at her, showing off perfect white teeth and cheeks punctuated with the deepest dimples Andie could ever recall seeing on a boy. His curly hair was in cornrows, and he looked like he should be singing lead in a boy band.

  “Oh, hello um…” Andie pretended to forget his name.

  “Nathan,” he volunteered. “Nathan Hansen. Samantha’s friend. We met in the library the other night…”

  “Yes, I remember…” Andie sounded vague.

  “Nice to see you again.”

  Andie only offered a half smile. Nathan sat next to her without being invited. That was not something he would have done normally, but he knew that if he waited for her to offer him a seat he would end up standing forever.

  “So where are your sister and cousins today?” Nathan asked.

  “Somewhere on campus, I guess,” Andie replied. “I don’t know exactly where.”

  “I have some classes with Samantha,” Nathan said. “Well, an Econ one, anyway, and I always see Klao hanging around the hospital. Klao looks like her mother.”

  “People say she does.”

  “I’ve never seen Bianca though,” Nathan continued. “She doesn’t come around to Mobay Mercy.”

  “She lives in Ocho Rios,” Andie told him. “Her father manages Ocho Rios Mercy.”

  “That’s your Uncle Jeffrey, right?” Nathan felt like he was forcing himself to converse with Andie. “Dr Jeffrey Persaud? My Mom says he is the number one neurosurgeon in Jamaica.”

  “Right,” Andie said. “That’s my Uncle Jeffrey.” She had not looked at Nathan since he sat down.

  There was a period of uncomfortable silence.

  “And Klao’s brothers are in Medicine as well, right?”

  “Yes, they are. Final year.”

  “Wow, what a lot of doctors you’re going to have in your family! Nobody can get sick and stay sick.” He chuckled. Andie did not even crack a smile.

  “So you waiting to get into IFLT?”

  Andie nodded. “I have my father’s class there in ten minutes.”

  “I really enjoy Dr Persaud’s classes,” Nathan gushed. “He is very entertaining.”

  “I don’t know how he doesn’t have his own sitcom,” Andie said sarcastically. She glanced at her wristwatch, hoping Nathan would say he had a class clear across campus, and leave her alone, but he was not willing to cooperate with her.

  “What you reading?” He asked, peering into her open binder.

  “I am trying to brainstorm for my GT11A paper,” Andie explained. “It’s due next week Thursday.”

  “Mind if I look at your topic?” Nathan quickly scanned the tutorial sheet. “Good topic,” he commented. “What you have so far?”

  Andie did not respond. Instead, she stared at Nathan. He looked sincere enough, and seemed to be offering to help her. But why? She could not help but wonder. Didn’t Nathan realise that her father did not grade the Economics finals himself; that he had a whole slew of graduate students to do that for him? If he was chatting her up to get an ‘A’ in International Economics he was barking up the wrong tree.

  “Tabula rasa?” Nathan asked.

  Andie blinked. “What?”

  “Blank slate—is that it?”

  “No, no,” Andie said. “I have an idea. I was thinking that it doesn’t really matter who becomes president, Bush or Gore, because both will be bound by the constitution, and subject to the checks and balances of Congress and the Judiciary.”

  “Not bad,” Nathan said, smiling, and Andie smiled too. “That would be fine if you were still doing A’Levels, but you’re at University now, and you have to deepen your intellectual capacity. I am sure Professor Brown will want your paper to have more scope than that!”

  Andie’s smile became a frown. “What you mean?”

  “Think about it,” Nathan continued. “When Professor Brown asks ‘will it matter?’ he’s also asking ‘to whom will it matter?’ A good paper will delve into the political philosophies of each candidate, and then seek to analyse what those ideologies would mean to the American people. Things like… what are their platforms on foreign policy and social welfare... How does each react to modern societal issues like homosexuality, abortion, war, healthcare, education…? How will Bush, the wealthy Republican oilman, affect the guy in Utica, New York who is both homeless and jobless? What will be the implications for the Colorado businessman, who pumps millions into the economy through the manufacture and sale of guns and ammunition, if an antiwar/pro environment Democrat like Gore sets up office in the West wing? If Gore wins, the US will have its first Jewish vice president. Will that augur well for the United States? Will it affect the Jewish community? If yes, why? If no, why not? You see, Andie, when you’re explaining ‘Will it matter?’ it has to be clear to whom it will matter.”

  Andie studied him keenly. “Wow, you should be lecturing this course. How come you’re so smart?”

  Nathan smiled. “Dunno. Just one of those weird, inexplicable acts of nature. The same God who made you so pretty gave me a knack for Politics.”

  Andie blushed. Did Nathan Hansen just say she was pretty?

  “If you want, I could help you with your paper,” he offered.

  Andie’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why?” She could not resist asking. “What’s in it for you?”

  “Why do you think something has to be in it for me?” Nathan asked.

  “So why would you want to help me?”

  “Because if all you can come up with on your own is constitutional constraints, then clearly you need help!”

  Andie opened her mouth to offer a scathing retort, but nothing came out. She realised that Nathan was right. She did need help. She was planning on going to Grandma and Grandpa Persaud on the weekend, and asking them to help her. Grandpa Ravi, though well into his seventies, was still as sharp as a tack, and was sure to be able to offer a wealth of knowledge on the U.S. Presidency. But here was Nathan Hansen, just as smart as Grandpa, and twice as cute, offering to help her. What should she say to him?

  “I don’t know…” she began.

  “It’s your choice,” Nathan shrugged. “I major in International Relations, and I know what I’m talking about. I have nothing to gain by helping you, and there are no strings attached.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Andie said finally.

  “I live on Preston Hall, Cluster six, household C,” Nathan said. “You can call me whenever you need me.”

  He tore a page from his five star notebook, and in huge letters, he scrawled his name and dorm extension on it. He folded the sheet and handed it to Andie.

  “Thanks,” Andie whispered. A boy had never given her his phone number before. The only boys who ever showed any interest in her were her twin cousins Dylan and Darrin, Klao’s brothers. In fact, the only date Andie had ever been on was her graduation ball from Hialeah Academy, and Dylan, who was bored with studying, and had nothing more interesting planned, allowed his Uncle Andrew to coerce him into escorting her to the big event.

  Andie stuck Nathan’s
number into her binder and smiled. “Maybe I will give you a call…”

  “Andie, aren’t you going to be late for class?”

  She looked up into her father’s dark eyes. Dr Andrew Persaud was dressed as he usually was—like the husband of a top fashion designer—nothing like his stodgy peers. He was nearing fifty, but was still as dashing and debonair as he was at twenty years old.

  He looked from his daughter, to Nathan, and back at Andie again.

  “Daddy!” Andie jumped up as though the bench was on fire. I was waiting on class and Nathan was helping me… You know Nathan, right? He is in your International Econ class, and he majors in IR as well as Econ… and he was giving me tips for my GT11A paper. Uncle Marcus, I mean, Professor Brown’s class. I’m working on the paper, it’s due next week and I was not doing too good…” Andie realised she was rambling and decided to shut up.

  Dr Persaud smiled. “Hello Nathan.”

  “‘Afternoon Dr Persaud,” Nathan smiled back. He was not at all nervous around Andie’s father. Dr Persaud was his favourite lecturer. “Are the results from the first in-course test ready yet?”

  “Not quite,” Dr Persaud replied. “But you should have a pretty good idea how you did.”

  “Pretty much,” Nathan acknowledged. “I don’t mean to sound too sure of myself, but I think I got them all—all except the last two. I just couldn’t figure those out.”

  “I know,” Dr Persaud said. “The office made an error with those, so I’m giving everyone two free points there. Seems you may have earned yourself a hundred. Congratulations!”

  Andie picked up her binder and slung her backpack over her shoulder. “We should get to class Daddy. Bye Nathan. Thanks for your help.”

  “See you Andie! Call me if anything.”

  He watched her walk into the IFLT with her father. She looked diminutive walking next to him; and except for the coal black eyes and the smile, they did not look like father and daughter. Dr Persaud was tall and muscular with curly black hair and olive skin. Andie was pale and slender and remarkably petite, with wavy red hair. But that smile… Nathan knew that warm, infectious smile. He had seen it years ago when he had first arrived in Jamaica. He was a petrified nine-year-old boy whose father had just killed himself, and whose mother had moved him to a strange country away from all his friends and familiar surroundings. He was sitting in the examination office of Montego Bay Mercy Hospital waiting for his physical, when the tallest doctor he had ever seen walked in. He had kind brown eyes and the most comforting smile.

  “Hello. I’m Dr Persaud,” he said. “You must be Nathan.”

  His full smile and twinkling eyes made Nathan instantly at ease. As he grew older he learned that Dr Michael Persaud owned the Montego Bay Mercy Hospital along with his wife, Dr Kimberly DeLisser, and his younger brother, Dr Andrew Persaud, PhD would one day be his Economics professor.

  Nathan smiled as he watched Dr Persaud and his younger daughter entered the IFLT. Maybe it would not be so bad getting close to Andie Persaud after all.

  ***

  Andie glanced at her Ebel wristwatch for the fortieth time that half hour. She nervously used the frayed cap of her pen to scratch her scalp, and willed her body not to fidget. EC10C – Introduction to Microeconomics was usually boring, but today it seemed even more so. The air conditioning unit was down, the room was hot, and the air thick. To Andie, it seemed as though her father had been lecturing for an eternity, drawing graph after graph on the whiteboard. Andie glanced at the girl seated next to her, nodding sleepily. She had not written one word of notes all lecture long. In fact, all she had taken to class was a pen, a sheet of loose-leaf paper and a huge purple and white jacket that read ‘Preston Hall – Payless’.

  “Well, you certainly don’t need the jacket today!” Andie mumbled.

  The girl yawned and looked at Andie with a half-smile. Andie returned the compliment. From the sheet of paper Andie saw that her name was Fern (either that or she was obsessed with someone called Fern, as the name was scribbled in at least six different font styles across the paper). She was in most of Andie’s classes, and her GT11A tutorial. She never took notes, but always led long, heated debates that sometimes rattled Professor Brown. Andie wondered whether Fern knew Nathan Hansen. Thinking of Nathan made her remember that she had his number. She pulled the sheet of scrap paper from her binder and opened it. Nathan Hansen. Cluster 6C; ext 278.

  She imagined herself phoning Nathan. He invited her down to Preston Hall to work on her paper. Later on, he invited her out again, and soon, Nathan was her boyfriend. But before he became her boyfriend, Andie thought she had to find out more about Nathan. The only person she could think of who might know Nathan really well was this Fern.

  “You know Nathan Hansen?” She imagined herself asking Fern.

  “Yes, he’s a very nice guy,” was the imagined reply. “He loves helping ‘freshers’ with their GT11A papers.” Or “Yeah, he’s a skunk. I hate him!” Or, “He’s my boyfriend, and if you dare call him, I’ll kick your ass!”

  Andie looked at Fern again. It did not seem impossible that Fern could kick her ass. Fern was much taller than she was, and she looked mean. Well, at that moment, with her eyes half closed, she looked stupid, but Andie knew from GT11A that she had the potential to be seriously mean…

  “Andie!”

  Her father was looking down on her, and he looked seriously mean—not to mention seriously pissed, and definitely prepared to kick her ass!

  “Huh?” She exclaimed before she could stop herself.

  “Would you mind astral projecting back to the here and now and telling the class the conditions under which a firm will operate at a loss in the short run?” Dr Persaud demanded.

  Andie gulped. She glanced at Fern, who was suddenly wide awake and alert. She looked at her notebook. There were no notes to speak of; just doodles all across the page—doodles that her father doubtlessly saw. It was bad enough getting caught in dreamland by your lecturer, but when he is your father as well….

  “Oh, crap!” She muttered.

  “No, ‘oh crap’ is not the answer I am looking for.” He sneered. “Try again.”

  There were scattered giggles across the classroom, and Andie’s face became red with embarrassment.

  “Firms will operate at a loss in the short run because in the short run price is greater than average variable cost, but less than average total cost.”

  “And what would make them want to continue operating?”

  “Because shutting down would result in even greater losses, which is all of their total fixed costs,” Andie whispered.

  “Why would they incur these losses?” Her father asked again.

  “Because they cannot shed their obligations to pay these fixed costs,” Andie answered.

  “What are some of those fixed costs you make constant reference to, Andie?”

  Andie coughed to prevent her voice from cracking. “Interest it owes the bank, or rent due on leased space…” She prayed he would not ask her anything else.

  “Hmm,” Dr Persaud commented, as he returned to the board. “See me after class.”

  “Yes, Daddy—I mean, Dr Persaud.” Andie’s eyes filled with tears. How could her father be so mean to her in front of everybody? Why did he have to go out of his way to embarrass her? She glanced at her watch again. It was five minutes until the end of class, and she did not have another one for two hours. She wanted to spend her free time in the library gathering information for her paper, not getting cussed out by her father/Economics lecturer.

  “We’ll pick up here next time,” Dr Persaud said, ending the class. “The tutorial sheets are available at the Economics office. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

  Andie watched her classmates put their books together, while an eager few crowded her father on the stage. She adjusted her shirt, and took a deep breath. Fern had t
ied her Preston Hall jacket around her waist, and was waiting for the mob to subside before leaving the IFLT. She looked at Andie.

  “My mother taught me Accounts at A’Levels,” she confessed. “It is still my worst subject. I totally get what you’re going through.”

  “Thank you, kindred spirit!” Andie smiled, happy for an ally.

  “I prefer going by Fern. Fern McNally.” She picked up her sheet of loose-leaf paper and pen. “See you Andie.”

  “Hey, Fern,” Andie called.

  “Yeah?”

  “You live on Preston Hall?”

  “The jacket gave it away?” Fern asked with a smile.

  Andie nodded, smiling back. “You know a guy called Nathan Hansen?”

  “He’s my Hall brother,” Fern said. “Why?”

  “No reason,” Andie shrugged. “I know he lives on Preston and… I was just wondering…”

  “Well, in case you are wondering further,” Fern said, “he is as sweet as a teddy bear, and quite single—if you’re interested.” She grinned, showing off a mouthful of braces. “Later!”

  Andie decided that she liked Fern. She understood the horror of having a parent for her teacher, and she knew Nathan Hansen. Andie did not have any friends on campus except her sister and cousins. All her friends from Hialeah Academy had gone on to universities in America. She had begged to be sent off abroad too, but her parents thought that the University of the West Indies was just as good, if not better than American colleges. She had thought it strange that those sentiments were coming from people who had studied in those very American universities. She had even pointed out to her father that the only Persaud who was qualified to talk about the efficacies of a UWI education was Uncle Jeffrey, and that was only because he had defied Grandma and Grandpa Persaud, withdrawn from Harvard, and enrolled himself into UWI when tertiary education was free in Jamaica. Her father had pointed out that Uncle Jeffrey was living proof that UWI was in a league of its own, because Uncle Jeffrey was also the only Persaud to earn a Rhodes scholarship, and was the most noted neurosurgeon in the entire Caribbean. Andie had to swallow the bitter pill, and fill out the application to UWI while the young people she had grown up with went off to Brown and NYU and Yale. Six weeks after starting, she had failed to make friends. Now, things might be changing. Now, perhaps Fern McNally could be her friend. Fern and Nathan.