Read Online Arkansas by David Leavitt - Free Book Online Page B

the paper down.
    â€œWell?” I said.
    â€œWell...” He scratched his head with his pen. “It’s very interesting, Mr. Leavitt. Very ... imaginative. The only thing is, I’m not sure it answers the assignment.”
    â€œHow so?”
    â€œThe assignment was to make a case for someone or other being Jack the Ripper. And basically, what you’re saying is that it doesn’t matter. That any of them, or all of them, could have been Jack the Ripper.”
    â€œExactly.”
    â€œBut that’s not what Professor Robinson asked for.”
    I spread my hands patiently on my lap. “I understand what’s worrying you, Ben. Still, try to think about it this way. You have a murder mystery, right? A whodunit. Only there’s no clear evidence that any one person did it. So the B student thinks, I’ll just make a case for the most likely suspect and be done with it. But the A student thinks, More is going on here than meets the eye. The A student thinks, I’ve got to use this as an opportunity to investigate a larger issue.”
    â€œI can see all that. Still, this stuff about twentieth-century modernism—I have to be honest with you, Mr. Leavitt, to me it sounds a little pretentious.”
    â€œPretentious!”
    â€œI mean, very intelligent and all. Only the spirit of twentieth-century modernism—that can’t hold a knife. That can’t strangle someone. And so I’m afraid Professor Robinson will think it’s—I don’t know—off-the-wall.”
    Clearly Ben had the limited vision of the B student.
    â€œWell, I’m sorry you’re disappointed,” I said.
    â€œOh, I’m not disappointed exactly! It just wasn’t what I expected.”

    â€œFine. Then I’ll go home this afternoon and rewrite it. You just have to tell me who you think actually did do it—”
    â€œMr. Leavitt—”
    â€˜Was it M. J. Druitt, or James Stephen, or Dr. Pedechenko? Or how about Jill? It could have been Jill.”
    Ben was silent.
    Then: “Mr. Leavitt, you can’t blame me for being worried. A lot rests on this paper for me. You, you’ve got nothing to lose.”
    Was that true?
    â€œAnd
you
don’t risk expulsion if you get caught.”
    â€œWell, naturally, and that’s exactly why I’m offering to rewrite it.” (My anger had dissipated.) “After all, Ben, you’re the customer, and the customer’s—”
    â€œDo you have to make it sound so ... commercial?”
    â€œIsn't it?”
    â€œI’m not sure,” Ben said. “I never have been.”
    Once again he took out his pen. From the bottom of his breast pocket, I noticed, a tear-shaped blue ink stain seeped downward. “You must have put your pen away without the cap,” I said.
    â€œDid I? I guess. I do it all the time.”
    â€œMe too.”
    With my forefinger, I stroked the stain. Ben’s breathing quickened.
    â€œLook,” he said, “about the paper. You don’t have to rewrite it. I mean, if I didn’t appreciate it, it probably says more about me than about you, right?”
    â€œNot necessarily—”
    â€œAnd anyway, I didn’t come to you to get a B paper, I came to you to get an A paper. And if I don’t recognize an A paper when I see one, all that points up are my limitations.”
    â€œMaybe.” I moved my finger downward, to brush the cleft of his chest. “Or maybe it only points up the fact that I have a wider experience of these things. Remember, I’ve never gotten anything less than an A on a paper in my life—for myself or anyone else.”
    â€œMr. Leavitt, please don’t touch me like that. Someone might see us.”
    â€œI’m sorry.” I took my hand away.
    â€œThank you,” Ben said, clearing his throat. “And now I guess I owe you something, don’t I?”
    â€œOh, don’t worry about that.