by Ruby Scott
Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
Secret Baby with my College Professor
by Kristen Chase
He was the professor everybody hated but loved at the same time. He was demanding of his students. He had no sympathy for the sob stories they presented to him when they hoped for an extension on an assignment. He was okay with embarrassing them, or anyone else, in front of an entire room of people. He always carried an angry scowl. Even the teachers had jokes about his cruel and inappropriate teachings. He was the only professor that would not allow his students to address him by his given name: David. It was Professor Walton, or Sir. But physically, he was a dream; six and a half feet of muscle that never withered. Even with the small wrinkles that had started to appear in the corners of his eyes, he somehow became even more handsome. His brooding eyes enticed us as much as it casted fear in us. He was envied for his looks but hated for his personality.
There were plenty of rumours going around about him; had been for years. The one that was most common, and I had initially thought the most believable, was the story that he had had his heart broken many years ago and had never been the same since. However, I found that very hard to believe once I met him; hard to believe that this harsh, horrible man had once had the emotional capacity to love someone, and that he was possibly a person that had acquired love from another, in return.
I had never had Professor Walton as a teacher in my two years of college but I couldn’t avoid him forever. He was the head of Literature and literature was my major. How could such an unpleasant man teach such an expressive subject? Literature was poetry in every form, romance in every sense, passion from every author. I saw no sense or passion in this man that now sat in front of me.
“You asked to see me, Sir?”
I looked down at my sneakers nervously stepping into his office.
“Yes, close the door please.” He didn’t look up from the papers he was writing on and I stood in the middle of the room awkwardly, wondering whether to sit down or wait to be invited. The silence between us seemed to last forever and then he carefully moved his papers to the side, clasped his hands on his desk and raised his head to look straight at me. He didn’t say anything and I desperately avoided his piercing eyes as I searched my mind for some sort of saviour.
“Alright, sit down Miss Samuels, quickly now. I’m a busy man.”
“Oh yes, sorry Professor.” I sat down quickly, my heart thumping inside of me, desperate to desert me; to leave me alone with this diabolical human, who still sat staring holes through me. I felt naked. I wanted to fling my arms around myself to hide all of my weaknesses; my vulnerabilities, in which I knew he could see just by looking at me with those hard eyes of his.
“Now, I want to be clear with you Miss Samuels and…”
The door swung open and I saw the expression of shock across Professor Walton’s face, one I had not seen before, as a furious man stormed into the office unannounced. The door flung into the bookshelf behind it and he was heading right towards me. Was it possible that I had now met the second angriest man in the world? And how unlucky was I that I just happened to be the one stuck in this small office space with the two men that could kill me with one look? Thankfully though, the man didn’t even look in my direction, his eyes fixating on Professor Walton, and he stormed up to the desk, planting his fists hard onto its grainy texture. Professor Walton’s surprise had turned back into the hard and tough expression we were all used to and he didn’t back away an inch from the man who was now leaning over the desk towards him. Mr Walton looked at him disinterestedly and I could see the angry man’s fists tightening and his nostrils flaring with every second that passed. I really wanted to leave the room but I was stuck between the angry man next to me and the wall of the office, and I believed my attempts to manoeuvre out of the chair may have caused some unfortunate interruptions, leading the mens’ glares upon me. So I sat there praying that at least one of them would leave soon; the first time anyone could ever say that they actually hoped to be left in the company of solely Professor Walton.
“You fucking bastard!” The man yelled, I’m sure spraying his spit across Mr Walton’s desk.
Mr Walton stood up slowly without saying a word or seeming affected at all by the insult just thrown his way. I suppose he was used to it.
“You might think you need to push around adults half your age, acting like a big guy because your dick’s too small…”
Mr Walton’s face twitched with despise and I winced with anticipation. But he just stood there and let the man finish his filthy sentence.
“…but where I come from, teachers are actually supposed to support their students not make them cry.”
Mr Walton stood staring back at the red-faced man, still not saying a word. I realised now that he wasn’t trying to be incredibly well-mannered and professional, he was using silence to make the man in front of him fester in his own hate, causing further anger and embarrassment to himself.
“And you’ve got nothing to say for yourself?”
“Hmmm.”
Professor Walton crossed his arms and acted as if he was thinking hard about what to say.
“Who is your child Sir?”
“Amy Bennett.” He replied through clenched teeth.
A smile formed on the Professor’s face.
“Ah I see, Amy. Maybe you are missing the point here Mr Bennett. Maybe, your child is the problem, maybe she’s just not that bright.”
The smug look on Professor Walton’s face soon disappeared as the man’s fist pounded against his fleshy cheek, forcing him to buckle over.
I gasped, and the man suddenly shifted towards me. I cowered automatically but he suddenly looked frightened and after a moment, he was out the door slamming it behind him.
Professor Walton was now lying on the floor with books spluttered behind him and I realised he had hit his head on one of the bookcases on his way down, now causing him to be lying on the floor not moving. I was terrified and I ran around the desk to his side. I kneeled beside him.
“Professor Walton, Professor.” I yelled and I heard soft murmurs escaping from between his lips.
I cradled my hand under his head and touched his face trying to awaken him. His eyelids slowly opened and instead of the hard eyes looking at me, that I was so used to, soft warm and pained eyes had replaced them and were now staring back at me.
“Sir, are you okay?”
He didn’t answer straight away and I began to remember who I was holding in my arms. I released his head from my hold and shuffled myself back a bit.
“Do you think you can stand up Sir?”
I didn’t wait for an answer.
“I’ll go and get help. I will be back soon.”
“NO!” He yelled in desperation and I turned back to him concerned.
“Sir, you need help.”
He ignored me and put his arm out for me to hold.
“Here, help me up to my chair.”
I obliged straight away and he stumbled the few steps to his chair and plonked himself down. He sighed and I stood beside him, once again not knowing what to do next.
“Sir, you’re bleeding. I think you should go to the hospital. You could have a concussion.”
He flung out his hand, waving it towards the drawers in the corner of his office.
“I have some first aid packs in that bottom drawer over there. Bring it here will you?”
“Yes, of course Sir.”
I quickly made my way to the drawers and took out the white box from the bottom, and brought it back to his desk, placing it in front of him.
“Well, I can’t very well do it myself Miss Samuels.”
“Oh, sorry Sir. Of course.”
I fumbled through the box finding some antiseptics and tissues to clean his wounds. This was extremely strange and I hesitated.
“Are you sure you don’t want a doctor to do this Sir?”
“Yes. Now come on
with it.” He hurried me, and I fumbled my way through, what I assumed was a first aid procedure, as he continued to sigh to himself and I stayed silent.
***
He wanted to continue the meeting and there was only so many times you can insist Professor Walton to go to the hospital, before he makes you fear for your own life. However, as he attempted to string his sentences together, I could see him struggling. I was trying desperately to ignore his pain but when he paused for a decent amount of time with his eyes squeezed shut and his hands grasping his forehead, I had to try again.
“Sir?”
“That will be all Miss Samuels.”
He dismissed me and I hesitantly raised from my seat.
“Are you sure I can’t do anything for you, Sir?”
He looked up at me and I could see his protective shield continuing to come down. He sighed again.
“I guess I should go home and rest. Do you have a licence, Miss Samuels?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Let’s go.” He said, assuming he didn’t actually have to ask me to drive him home. And he was right, I wasn’t going to refuse the professor and I definitely wasn’t going to let him drive himself home in this state.
He carefully pushed himself up out of his seat and he breathed heavily. He was weak and faint. I hurried over, without thinking, to help him again, and he stopped me immediately.
“Don’t be silly Miss Samuels. No one can know about what happened here, you hear?”
He made eye contact with me for the first time since he lay on the floor after his hit, and he quickly looked away again after I spotted a glimpse of fear in his eyes.
“Of course Sir. But I can help you to my car at least.” I offered and he shook his head disappointedly.
“No,” he sighed, “you can walk behind me if you must, just in case. That is it.”
“Of course.” I nodded and followed him out of the office.
I directed him every time we needed to turn, but apart from that, no one would have guessed we were actually walking ‘together’. I don’t think anyone would ever think that Mr Walton would actually have company, so this kind of attention was quite easy to avoid.
We made it to the car without me having to run to him to stop him from falling over, thank goodness. I was now thankful he hadn’t wanted me to walk with him to help him along, because as soon as I got out into the open, I found myself terrified that someone would spot us together, because now that I think about it, seeing the Professor walking with anyone, would have raised a red flag for anybody else’s eyes and then I would be bombarded with questions that Professor Walton had forbidden me to answer truthfully.
We pulled up outside an apartment block roughly twenty-five minutes away from the college, so I was feeling slightly safer that we wouldn’t be spotted by anyone we knew. I walked around to help Mr Walton out and he was already halfway to his door by the time I got around to the other side of the car. I don’t know what got into me but I yelled out to him in heated sarcasm.
“Yeah no problem, Sir.”
“What?” He grumbled as he swung his head around to look at the rude little girl that had dared to question him.
I automatically wished I hadn’t let his rudeness get under my skin and I was immediately terrified that my college life was going to end with a big FAIL. But as he spun on his heels to growl at me, his dizziness cast another spell on him and I was back at his collapsed side holding his head off the rough concrete beneath.
“Sir, Sir. Are you okay?”
“Help me inside will you?”
I didn’t answer, I just listened. I helped his arm over my shoulders and he stood up shakily. We walked to his front door and he fumbled in his pocket with his keys.
“I just need to sit down for a bit.” He mumbled lowering himself to the ground outside of his apartment.
Now I was beginning to worry that we hadn’t exactly been stealth enough in our journey to his front door, no matter how far away we were from the school.
“Sir, you can’t sit here, I need to get you inside.”
He started slurring some words and closed his eyes resting his head against the cold brick wall behind him.
“Please stay awake Sir.”
I reached over him awkwardly thrusting my hand into his pocket to get his keys.
“What are you doing?” He groaned, frightening me enough that I jumped.
“I need to get you inside Sir.” I said confidently and I grabbed the keys and opened the door of his apartment.
I helped him up again and walked him over to the couch in the middle of the large open lounge in front of me. I reached for my phone; I had to call the ambulance. I was not going to be an accomplice in someone’s death.
“Don’t even think about it.”
I looked over to Mr Walton lying on the couch with his eyes still closed. He didn’t even look in my direction. I could have continued the call, but I sighed instead and dialled a hospital to get some advice.
***
After a lengthy talk relayed from me, between Mr Walton and the nurse on the other side of the phone, we came to the decision for Mr Walton to just get some rest, and if he continued to feel any dizziness or slurred his words, we would go to the hospital. Well, this was solely Mr Walton’s decision actually. The nurse had insisted that we go to a doctor to ensure he was okay, but with much difficulty from him, she relented and he got his way, like usual. The unfortunate part, for the both of us I’m sure, was that I had to stay with Mr Walton for the next six hours to watch over him. Of course, the Professor refused this too but once some sense got into that stubborn head of his, he decided my company wasn’t going to be the worst thing in the world. And yes, these were his exact words. I wanted to walk out of the apartment in that exact moment without a word, but unfortunately, like I said, I didn’t want to have any part in his untimely death. However, I had had enough of his insults and his lack of appreciation for me, and I was not about to put up with it for the next six hours.
“Girl, get me some water from the kitchen would you?”
He flapped his hand towards me and the kitchen, still keeping his eyes firmly closed.
“My name is Georgia, Professor Walton.”
His eyes flung open and I knew my change in attitude had shocked him. He relaxed himself immediately though and continued his order.
“Yes, yes. Georgia, get some water.”
It was the first time I had heard him say my first name and I felt like I had made some sort of progression. My small accomplishment made me want to conquer more.
“Please would be nice.”
His eyes flung open again, even more surprised at my willingness to tempt the dragon for a second time.
“I will get it myself.” He huffed swinging himself into an upright position and walking straight past me without a glance.
He walked back with a glass of water. I hadn’t moved from my seat.
“Is it that hard to say please?” I asked, more frightened by him now that he was wide awake, but I pressed on.
“You should leave Miss Samuels.”
I sighed and mustered up all of my courage.
“What? And be blamed for your death? I suppose you would love to haunt me for the rest of my life wouldn’t you?”
I rolled my eyes and he stared at me in complete disbelief.
“I have no plan to come back to this world once I am gone, Miss Samuels.”
“And why is that Professor? Has the world really been that cruel to you?”
He laughed, and I felt my face burning with fear and embarrassment, but most of all, anger.
“Do you think I need to answer to you, Miss Samuels?”
“I don’t think you need to answer to anyone Professor, especially if you insist on living this angry, lonely world you have cocooned yourself in, forever.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re excused.” I spat with sarcasm, my heart beating faster and faster.
“You have a
lot to learn Miss Samuels. I have seen the world far more than you. I know much more than you.”
“And I suppose you have suffered so much more than me too Sir?”
“I haven’t suffered. Nobody in this country knows what real suffering is.”
“Well, that is a very uneducated view, Professor.”
“I don’t care.”
I chuckled at his lack of argument.
“My ten-year-old brother used to say that because he was too young to have a better response. I expected more from such an educated man as yourself.”
He leant forward resting his elbows on his knees and looked straight into my eyes.
“What do you want from me?”
“From you? I doubt there is anything you could say or do to help or benefit anybody in this world Professor.”
He laughed and then sighed, smiling as if he had finally figured me all out.
“Taking your anger out on me Miss Samuels? Was daddy cruel to you?”
“I never knew my father, Professor Walton. He died shortly after my birth. The same cancer that killed my brother when he was only ten years old.”
My satisfaction at the look of his face dropping at my words, was enough to hold my tears from falling down my face. I sat back, resting into the chair. I held his gaze that had now weakened with embarrassment and what I thought I could identify as sadness.
He finally broke our stare and we sat in silence for the next ten minutes, wondering how our conversation had taken such a dramatic turn.
“My wife died in a car crash on the way to the airport for our honeymoon nine years ago. I died that day too.”
His confession caught me off guard and before I could find any words to respond to him, he had left the room through a door to my right. This day just kept bringing the surprises.
***
I softly knocked on the door and creaked it open, knowing that I probably wouldn’t get a response. Professor Walton was lying on his bed with a photo clasped in his hand, pressed against his chest. I could see a shimmer on his cheek where his tears had left their marks. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him even though I still was angry at him for being such a horrible human being.