Edwards!”
Her pale hair was tied up in a messy bun and she was struggling with an armload of books. I jumped up and helped her before the stack cascaded to the floor.
“What’s all this?” I asked, turning over one of the worn paperbacks. “ The Hero with a Thousand Faces . Great read. Is this for a class or just recreational?”
Her face broke into a wide smile at my recognition of the book. “That’s actually what I was hoping you could help me out with.” Without being asked, she sat down on the chair across from my desk. “I want to do an independent study for my last semester. My sociology class was just a semester long so it’s ending in a couple weeks. There isn’t a single elective left that remotely interests me, and I have three study halls next semester. I don’t want three study halls.”
I couldn’t help chuckling. Even the overachieving students that argued over every lost point rarely went so far as to request additional work. “Ember, you’ve already been accepted to college, is there a reason you’re heaping more work on yourself instead of relaxing for your last semester?”
She nodded, as though she’d expected the question to come up. “Everyone knows you're a tough grader so I thought it would be good practice for college.”
“Do you really need the practice?” I queried. “The last paper you turned in to me had four pages of footnotes.”
She shrugged. “I like to be thorough.”
I leaned back in my chair, intrigued. “All right. Tell me your abstract.”
Her face lit up. Ember had always been a fierce contributor to class discussions, and she never seemed more alive than when she was arguing her point.
“I want to explore the archetypes of heroes and villains that appear throughout high fantasy literature using Joseph Campbell’s book as a guide.” When I didn’t immediately shoot down her idea she plunged on. “Mankind has told stories around campfires for as long as there’s been language. Fantasy literature is relatively new in literary years, and most teachers and scholars label it as junk. But fantasy is the genre that has produced modern day epics.”
She paused, gauging my reaction.
“You memorized that, didn’t you?” I asked dryly.
“That obvious?”
“’Modern day epic’ isn’t really a phrase you throw around until you’re a literary critic. Or advertising a summer blockbuster.” Literally perched on the edge of her seat, Ember was watching me with rapt attention as I contemplated her fate.
I wonder what might have happened if I’d said no and sent her on her way. Would we still have found our way to each other, or was that one moment the hinge our future turned on? We’ll never know.
“Yes,” I said. “You have me intrigued. Write me up a proposal, and I’ll speak to the principal to see if we can actually get you any credit for this. Not that you actually need it.”
If her smile had been bright before, it was blinding after I agreed. “Thank you, Mr. Edwards!” she exclaimed. “You won’t regret this!”
Do I regret it? I regret the way things turned out and the indignity she suffered. I regret how every grade she ever received became suspect because of what we did, nullifying years of hard work in the eyes of the administration. I regret that we didn’t manage to restrain ourselves until after she graduated. It might have raised a few eyebrows then, but it wouldn’t have cost me my job, and Ember her reputation. But I never, for one single second, regretted loving her.
Ember showed up at my office during lunch the next day with four typed pages clutched triumphantly in her hands. She waited expectantly as I read her proposal.
For as long as there have been stories told around campfires, the seemingly clear cut differentiation between good and evil has been discussed with a dramatic flair. The genre of literature commonly known as fantasy is relatively new, a vast majority of its texts having been written within the
Her pale hair was tied up in a messy bun and she was struggling with an armload of books. I jumped up and helped her before the stack cascaded to the floor.
“What’s all this?” I asked, turning over one of the worn paperbacks. “ The Hero with a Thousand Faces . Great read. Is this for a class or just recreational?”
Her face broke into a wide smile at my recognition of the book. “That’s actually what I was hoping you could help me out with.” Without being asked, she sat down on the chair across from my desk. “I want to do an independent study for my last semester. My sociology class was just a semester long so it’s ending in a couple weeks. There isn’t a single elective left that remotely interests me, and I have three study halls next semester. I don’t want three study halls.”
I couldn’t help chuckling. Even the overachieving students that argued over every lost point rarely went so far as to request additional work. “Ember, you’ve already been accepted to college, is there a reason you’re heaping more work on yourself instead of relaxing for your last semester?”
She nodded, as though she’d expected the question to come up. “Everyone knows you're a tough grader so I thought it would be good practice for college.”
“Do you really need the practice?” I queried. “The last paper you turned in to me had four pages of footnotes.”
She shrugged. “I like to be thorough.”
I leaned back in my chair, intrigued. “All right. Tell me your abstract.”
Her face lit up. Ember had always been a fierce contributor to class discussions, and she never seemed more alive than when she was arguing her point.
“I want to explore the archetypes of heroes and villains that appear throughout high fantasy literature using Joseph Campbell’s book as a guide.” When I didn’t immediately shoot down her idea she plunged on. “Mankind has told stories around campfires for as long as there’s been language. Fantasy literature is relatively new in literary years, and most teachers and scholars label it as junk. But fantasy is the genre that has produced modern day epics.”
She paused, gauging my reaction.
“You memorized that, didn’t you?” I asked dryly.
“That obvious?”
“’Modern day epic’ isn’t really a phrase you throw around until you’re a literary critic. Or advertising a summer blockbuster.” Literally perched on the edge of her seat, Ember was watching me with rapt attention as I contemplated her fate.
I wonder what might have happened if I’d said no and sent her on her way. Would we still have found our way to each other, or was that one moment the hinge our future turned on? We’ll never know.
“Yes,” I said. “You have me intrigued. Write me up a proposal, and I’ll speak to the principal to see if we can actually get you any credit for this. Not that you actually need it.”
If her smile had been bright before, it was blinding after I agreed. “Thank you, Mr. Edwards!” she exclaimed. “You won’t regret this!”
Do I regret it? I regret the way things turned out and the indignity she suffered. I regret how every grade she ever received became suspect because of what we did, nullifying years of hard work in the eyes of the administration. I regret that we didn’t manage to restrain ourselves until after she graduated. It might have raised a few eyebrows then, but it wouldn’t have cost me my job, and Ember her reputation. But I never, for one single second, regretted loving her.
Ember showed up at my office during lunch the next day with four typed pages clutched triumphantly in her hands. She waited expectantly as I read her proposal.
For as long as there have been stories told around campfires, the seemingly clear cut differentiation between good and evil has been discussed with a dramatic flair. The genre of literature commonly known as fantasy is relatively new, a vast majority of its texts having been written within the
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