Read Online Assumptions by C.E. Pietrowiak - Free Book Online

at
his desk at the front of the room, alone.
    The bell rang and the students scurried to
their places. Professor Embry flew through the door and began to
speak immediately. "Ladies and gentlemen, we've a lot of material
to cover today. Notebooks open, pens up. Today, I'll be telling you
all about the political implications of cartography in the 1940s.”
And he did just that, non-stop until the bell rang fifty minutes
later.
    Will packed his things quickly and headed for
the door. Jordyn followed him out. By the time she got through the
door, he was already half-way down the hall. She jogged to catch
up.
    “Hi, I’m Jordyn.”
    “Quig. I know.” He kept walking. “You didn’t
have to do that."
    “Yes, I did.”
    Will stopped.
    Momentum carried Jordyn a couple of steps
past him before she could turn around and continue the
conversation. “Have lunch with me.”
    Will looked at her, bewildered. "What?"
    "I'm asking you to have lunch with me."
    "That was a question?"
    "Sorry. Habit.” She cleared her throat.
"Would you like to have lunch with me today? How was that?"
    “Better."
    "So?"
    "Uh, sure. Why not?”
    “Good. See you.” Jordyn turned sharply and
continued on her way, leaving him standing in the corridor.
    “I’m Will,” he called after her.
    Jordyn wheeled back around and shot him a
sideways smile. “Emerson. I know."
    Will walked down the stairs to the first
floor past the receiving dock to a door marked "Janitor" in peeling
black paint. He knocked and the door gave way.
    "Professor Barrett?"
    "William, how nice to see you." Barrett poked
his head around the door and pulled it open until it bumped against
a box on the floor. "I'm afraid the place is still a mess."
    “Should I come back?”
    "No, no, come in. Students are always welcome
here, such as it is."
    Will entered the windowless room. It was
crammed full with a desk wedged into the corner against a utility
sink and already buried in papers and books, an old executive
chair, and a single bookshelf. Barrett pulled a card table chair
from the clutter, shoving away a box to make enough space to unfold
it for Will. “Please, have a seat.”
    Will sat. "How did you end up in here?"
    "No space. It's not so bad. Beggars can't be
choosers, right? Anyhow, they tell me they'll have the sink removed
and the door fixed sometime next week. If they hadn't contracted
out housekeeping I'd be sitting in the hall." Barrett did not
smile.
    "When do you start teaching?"
    "This afternoon, actually. I'll push in to
Philosophy for a couple of weeks. After that, I'll be in World
Cultures for the rest of the term teaching a section on religion.
Didn't I see your name on the roster?"
    Will nodded.
    "Now, William - or should I call you Mr.
Emerson - what can I do for you?"
    "I just came by to say hello." The bell rang.
"Sorry, Professor. I have to get to class."
    "Well then, you don't want to be late."
Barrett took a thick book off his desk and shelved it.
    "I love that book. Too bad he doesn't write
anymore."
    "You read Pritchard? Oh, right, your father.
You're in luck, then. I'll be using it for class."
    "I actually met him once. I was eight or
nine. We had tea at the Albright. He and my father argued about the
provenance of some artifact. I can't even remember what it was. I
just wanted more biscuits. Dumb little kid. His work is
amazing."
    "Indeed, it is."
     
    The lunch line was already out the door of
the commons. Jordyn leaned against a wall in the corridor. Will
jogged toward her. She pointed to the wall clock. Five past
twelve.
    Will shrugged. "Sorry. Habit."
    "Not funny, Emerson." Jordyn brushed past
Will. She smelled like white bar soap, clean and comforting. "I'm
starving."
    Jordyn grabbed a tray and got in line.
"Cheese and sausage pizza again? Haven't you people heard of
vegetables?"
    "Welcome to the Midwest. Come with me." Will
led Jordyn past the pizza to a small cooler with pre-packaged
sandwiches and cheerful Jell-O cups. "Here, Quig. Turkey on