by R D Hathaway
She looked at it again. “Naw, that’s too much.”
Her phone rang. “Metro, this is Rennie.”
“Hi, Rennie, this is Will, down in the vault. You called about some Simpson prof, back in the twenties. I’ve got some info on him.
“Great! What’ve you got?”
“There’s some scattered stuff here, Rennie. There’s a notice of him speaking to some organization on Egyptian stuff, and then, there’s his wife dying when she has a baby. Man, that sticks it, huh? Oh, and then there’s the big hoopla of him going to work in London, and then another on him coming back in a box. Wow, it’s like live hard, die hard?”
“I guess so, Will. Can you send me copies of those?
“Sure, you can take me out to lunch, and we’ll talk.”
“Will, you shouldn’t be chasing old ladies.”
“When you work in the vault, you can’t be choosy.”
They both laughed.
“You know, Will, you could have said something like, ‘Rennie, you’re not old. You’re hot!’ Give me a little help here, guy.”
“Right, you’ll have that stuff tomorrow.”
Rennie looked at her watch and put all the paperwork and notepads back into the binder. She slid down in her chair, tapped at her temple with a pen and looked at the ceiling. She wondered how she could catch Mrs. Knoche.
Rennie lurched forward and uncovered a file marked, “City Condemnation.” As she looked through the pages, she paused and looked up.
“Dang it,” she said as she tossed her pen on the desk. She got up and picked up her bag and the file labeled, “Simpson – Justus.”
As she walked past the end cubicle, she said, “Susan, I’ll be in Indianola. Back tomorrow.”
***
Coming to a stop sign, she looked right. There were no other vehicles in sight and her route was straight ahead, but she needed a break. A quick stop at her house could be quick and a cold beer would taste just right. It was only Tuesday, but it had already been a long week.
Turning into the driveway, she saw a man sitting on the porch steps. He was leaning back and smiling with his eyes shut. She walked up and stood in front of him, blocking the sunshine.
He opened his eyes. “Hey, girl, did you come home early for me?”
Rennie sat down next to him. “Well, Steve, what brings my ex to town? You must need something.”
“Come on, Ren, give me a break. It’s springtime. Can’t you just enjoy life a little?”
“You know you’re out of luck here. So, why the visit? Hmm, could it be you need money or a place to stay? What is it this time, Steve?”
“Come on, can’t you ever just enjoy life a little? Can’t you get out from between your ears?”
He laughed and turned again into the sunlight. They were quiet for a long time.
Finally, he said, “I miss you, Rennie. We had good times. I know we aren’t going to get together again. That doesn’t mean we can’t still enjoy a little company now and then.”
“Steve, I’ve moved on. I don’t want to deal with the past.”
He turned again and looked at her. “Hey, I’m just passing through. I just wanted to say ‘Hi’ and see how you’re doing. Nothing heavy. You look good, Rennie. But you’re dressing more like a man with this pants and sport coat thing. It is better than the old granola look.”
She grinned. “Oh yeah, so men’s wear turns you on now?”
Steve feigned a feminine giggle.
“Where’s your bike, or don’t you have a ride again?”
He stepped off the porch a few steps and pointed at a truck parked in front of the house. “There she is; that’s my ride!”
He spun around. “It’s great, Rennie. You know, I kind of move now and then, and a pickup is great for that!”
“You working, Steve?”
“Well, you know, I’m working all the time. It’s just not at the same thing. I’m too creative to stick with one thing. You know that! That’s why we’re so great together. Your little head never stops spinning and neither do my wheels. Hey, you wanna go for a ride in my new pick’em up? Come on. We could go out to the lake and get wild and crazy.”
Rennie shook her head. “Steve, I’m in another place now. I grew up.”
Steve threw his arms in the air. “Boring! Hey, you know what ‘grown up’ means? It means ‘settle’ and I won’t settle. Life is all about growth and going places and, well, living; and, loving!”
“How about dying, Steve? What about that?”
“Hey, when you got to go, wouldn’t it be nice if you had lived once? Man, I’m living. I’m living every day.”
“Really, Steve, you’re living? So, living is running away from commitments and doing whatever you want to do no matter how it affects others? Is that living? Is that loving? Just what is that?”
He put his hands on his hips and stared at her. “Thank you, mister prosecutor. You’ve got all the questions and no answers. You’re always asking questions and looking for answers, looking for what you call ‘truth.’ Do you have any idea what it is that you are looking for? God, you might want to answer that question first!”
“Haven’t you heard, Steve? God supposedly has all the answers. He just isn’t around anymore to tell us what they are.”
Rennie got up and brushed off her bottom. “Hey, let’s not fight. I hope you find some happiness somewhere; something that lasts more than just the moment, something meaningful. I know it seems like work to you, but when you find it, it’s easy. You can get excited about it and you are willing to do whatever needs to be done.”
“So, this newspaper thing, is it ‘THE thing’ for you? Is this what gets you hot on life?”
Rennie picked up her bag and stepped close to Steve. “Thanks, for coming by. Now, leave.”
She walked up the steps into the house and closed the door without looking back. As she crossed the old, hardwood floors, a grandfather clock chimed in another room. She took a beer out of the refrigerator and went into the living room.
The roar of an engine lacking a good muffler, sounded through the neighborhood. Tires briefly screeched and the noise disappeared down the street. She held her bottle up. “Here’s to you, Steve. Go have your fun, and … whatever.”
She dropped onto the old sofa, kicked off her shoes and put her feet up on the coffee table. Balderdash jumped onto a chair and sat upright, looking at her before saying, “Meow.”
“Hi, buddy. How’s your day?”
The cat responded again.
“Right. You and me, pal.”
She knocked down a few gulps of the drink and trudged upstairs to her bedroom. Rennie looked in the back of her closet and removed a hanger with a long, light cotton skirt. She caressed the cloth for a moment, then slipped off her slacks and put on the skirt. Playfully, she turned to one side and then the other, as she watched herself in the mirror.
She looked at the cat. “What do you think, big guy. Am I hot, or what?”
Walking toward the closet, she noticed her alarm clock and stopped. “Oh, my gosh, it’s almost two thirty!”
She changed back into her slacks, brushed her teeth, gargled, and looked in the mirror. “Oh, Ms. Knoche, you and I need to go out and have a few.”
By 3:15 she was hurrying across the Simpson campus toward Hillman Hall. Along the way, she passed by a man sitting on a bench and reading a newspaper. He wore a nice suit, and for some reason, he did not seem to belong there. Rennie instinctively slowed her pace and peeked back at him. When she reached the building, she paused. Something felt wrong.
She went into the Administration office and asked the student if Ms. Knoche was in or when she would return. Answers were uncertain so Rennie left the building and walked across to the Chapel. The steps were a good place to watch for the old woman, but she felt out of place there. She h
ad not had time for spiritual matters for a long time.
Rennie noticed Ms. Knoche coming down the walk. “Hey, Ms. Knoche! Nice to see you again.”
The old woman looked straight ahead and rumbled forward.
Rennie slowed down and matched her pace. “You know, this story about Professor Justus is fascinating. He was quite a guy. It was pretty sad, though too.”
The woman ignored her.
“I’ve heard you’ve been here quite awhile. Someone said your predecessor was here a long time, too.”
They continued down the walk.
“Did she ever say anything about Professor Justus?”
Mrs. Knoche suddenly stopped. She turned and looked at Rennie. “Are you investigating me?”
Rennie leaned back. “Of course, not. You’re a valued resource here and I appreciate your help. I don’t want to get anything wrong.”
“Well, there was plenty wrong with that Justus.”
The old woman turned to walk again but stopped. Her cheeks flushed with color. “I don’t know anything, okay?”
“Ms. Knoche, this isn’t about you, but I guarantee you, I will find the truth. You can help me and serve this school, or you can stand back and see what happens.”
The woman’s eyes grew large and her lips twitched. She wobbled over to a bench and sat down.
Rennie sat next to her.
“I don’t know. Evelyn was here before me. She said he was not a good man, your professor. I don’t know any details, just the attitude.”
“What attitude is that, Ms. Knoche?”
“You know his wife died, in childbirth.”
“I read something about that.”
“Then, pretty quick, he was off to London and involved with two women. That’s what they say.”
Ms. Knoche looked around, then whispered, “Some said he was involved in stealing antiquities. That’s what got him killed! It was disgraceful. This fine school deserves better.”
“Ms. Knoche, from what I learned about him, I have difficulty with that.”
“I know, I know. Something obviously snapped. But Evelyn was certain.”
“Did Evelyn actually know Professor Justus?”
“Oh, yes,” the old woman nodded quickly.
“She was just a young thing at the time, and when she first met him, she thought the world of Professor Justus. He was the most handsome and nicest member of the faculty. He was an expert on the Middle East, and he traveled to give programs on his study of Egypt and the Bible. For Iowa, that’s pretty exotic.”
Mrs. Knoche relaxed a little. “After his wife died, you can imagine, he couldn’t teach for awhile. He could hardly talk to people, according to Evelyn. Then, he heard about all that weird business in Egypt, with King Tut or something. He got focused on that and away he went. He was just supposed to be gone for the summer, but he never came back, alive that is.”
Rennie patted her arm. “Ms. Knoche, it seems you’ve been holding this back, protecting the college from this story for a long time.”
The woman straightened out her dress and turned to Rennie. “Evelyn was heartbroken. When those women showed up for the funeral and then again years later, she knew the professor was not who he seemed to be. He must have changed. They can do that you know.”
“Who were these women, ma’am.”
Ms. Knoche’s eyes grew large. “One was a princess they said. Evelyn said she saw her at the funeral, and she was not nice; arrogant, they said. She was stone cold and didn’t speak to anyone. But she directed everything, all the arrangements, even his monument.”
She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, dear, it’s been a long day.”
“Would you like some water or something? We could go for coffee.”
“No, it’s alright.”
“Ms. Knoche, you mentioned two women. Who was the other one? Were they together?”
“Oh, no, that’s what set Evelyn off. It was years later. This other English woman showed up, quiet as the first and formal, but not as elegant, and she asked about Professor Justus. I guess she visited the graveyard and a few places. Then she was gone. No one knows who she was. Evelyn thought he had gone wild in England and chased the ladies.”
“I can see why that would have bothered Evelyn. Listen, I promise that what you have told me will remain confidential, and if I come across anything that is not good for the image of Simpson, I won’t include that in my story. Okay?”
Ms. Knoche’s gaze slowly rose to meet with Rennie’s eyes. “I have this feeling you may open up something that you might regret. There are dangerous forces out there. You need to know when to step back. Evil is easily disguised. Professor Justus may have run into that. Be careful.”
A chill ran up Rennie’s spine. The image of the man on the bench, reading the newspaper suddenly came to mind.
A mischievous smile slipped across Mrs. Knoche’s mouth. “I’m sorry I can be a crotchety old woman. This is a good school, and I’ve been here a long time. I guess I think of it as mine.”
“Ms. Knoche, could I ask you for some advice? I was talking with someone today, and we got talking about life.”
Rennie took a long breath.
“Well, you’ve probably known a lot of people and you are obviously a very intelligent and thoughtful person. I wondered, what would you say makes life meaningful?”
Ms. Knoche’s face beamed. “That’s the easiest question, dear. I’ve not only seen but met many important people. Every four years, even the President comes to Iowa, and I’ve met most of them!”
She laughed and hit her knee. “To have a meaningful life is based on what you give and not what you get. Our society is devoted to just getting things, and getting them now, when they want them. That’s why I think, as rich as this country is, we may have the saddest, most empty people in the world. The people who have given the most are the happiest people. The ones who are just out to get for themselves, they get the headlines, the flashy cars and are popular, but their cup is always empty. They are always trying to fill it up.”
Rennie put her fingertips on the old woman’s arm. “I’ll bet your cup is overflowing, Ms. Knoche.”
“Well, I’ve been lucky to have had the opportunity to help a lot of people here.”
She put her handkerchief to her nose.
Rennie sensed she had lost track of her mission. Over the years, she had become good at blocking out tenderness.
“There is one last question. Did Professor Justus have any family here? Is anyone left?”
“Oh, no. I don’t think so. I’m not sure where he came from, but it wasn’t around here. It’s kind of sad, really. He started out alone, had a family, and then was alone again. Now, he’s gone and there is no one to remember him.”
She squeezed Rennie’s hand. “You write whatever you like. I know you’ll do the right thing.” She smiled. “It’s good to finally get it out.”
Rennie laughed. “Yes, this ordeal is over. Thank you for sharing and for being a wonderful part of this school.”
As they arose, Ms. Knoche placed her hand on Rennie’s arm. “Just remember, dear, when you’ve given your all for what you believe in, your rewards will be greater than anything you could ever imagine.”
London, UK
The British Museum
1923
II - 4
Excuse me, Miss Shefford,” Matthias asked.
He looked away, shifted from side to side, and ran his fingers through his hair. “I, uh, Mr. Warrington said I should go to lunch now and, I’m not certain what people do here.”
He waited for a moment. He noticed that her face was nearly white, like fresh papyrus. Her lips were pressed together as though she was concentrating very hard, but he worried she may be angry. “Miss Shefford?”
She exhaled a deep sigh. “I’m sorry, Professor
Justus. This has been an awkward day.”
She turned and looked at him. “I’m sure it is particularly awkward for you.”
She relaxed back in her chair. “Our luncheon period is forty-five minutes, but no one keeps track of our time. It is quite a decent system, really. Sometimes, I think they forget I am here.”
Matthias sat down and tilted his chair back. “So, do you bring something in or go out to eat?”
“Oh, I cannot afford to eat in this neighborhood. I just bring a few snacks from home. What would you like to do today?”
“I’m not sure. Going for a walk and seeing what’s available outside would be nice. We could, oh, wait.”
Matthias pulled his attaché across the desk and opened it. He removed the tin box Mrs. Whitley gave to him and set it on top of his bag. “I just remembered. Mrs. Whitley, the host where I stay, sent this along.”
Miss Shefford peeked at the box. “My, biscuits, and from Harrods. How nice! Will you be sharing these?”
She suddenly seemed like a delicate and innocent little girl. Matthias was delighted to see her smile.
“Well, let’s open this up, Miss Shefford. Hmm. It doesn’t seem to have any biscuits in it, just some sliced apple, a pickle, and what appears to be a sandwich.”
She grinned. “Mrs. Whitley must be a thoughtful lady, but I would ask her what happened to the sweets!”
She laughed but caught herself. “I’m sorry, sir. That was not appropriate.”
She looked down for a moment and straightened out her skirt.
“Not at all, Miss Shefford. So, are biscuits sweets?”
“Yes, Professor, I believe in America you call them cookies.”
She looked into his eyes for what felt like a long time. Abruptly, she stood up. “Professor, obviously your linguistic skills will be useful here. As for lunch, it appears yours has been resolved. If you like, we can sit in the staff comfort room. That is where my refreshments are kept.”
“I’d be delighted.”
Matthias watched her cross the room, her heels clicking on the marble floor. When she reached the door, she stopped and looked back at him. She raised one eyebrow, and then walked across the hall.