Two Days Later

Even after six years, Morgan wasn’t used to speaking to this class. He didn’t have a fear of public speaking, but with Julie enrolled in the course, he never wanted a slip-up. His pre-class prepping routine usually occurred in his office, but his tardiness prevented him from doing so. A brisk jog across two quads through campus got him to his class, while a sixty-something-year-old professor covered for him. Morgan thanked him, and the older gentleman gave him the stink eye in passing.

With his briefcase sprawled on the podium, he took a hard look at his auditorium-size classroom. It slopped from the back to the pseudo-stage supplied with a pair of giant chalkboards he rarely used. With a student roster of forty in a room that seats seventy, he peered at each student, searching for his crown jewel pupil. He scanned each student and didn’t find her. Clearing his throat, he addressed his class in a casual October greeting of how the seasons didn’t change in their portion of California. Morgan removed his blazer and adjusted his tie before realizing where the class had stopped in the lesson the previous week.

Despite the proximity of midterms, Professor Abbott continued with one final lecture. “Who’s ready to talk about our nation’s founding fathers?”

Several students grinned at the topic, eager to listen to another of his engrossing lectures. Morgan looked back down at his notes and memorized his bullet points and stepped in front of the podium.

“After the Revolution, our colonies were united; all had a common goal, whether from Virginia, Georgia, the Carolinas, Pennsylvania, or New York. Once the country united, that’s when the divisions began to show.”

He paused when his star pupil, Julie, walked in and sat in the back of the class. She attended one of his courses before, a roster size of twenty while he taught an advanced class of psychology. Despite her distracting run-in, the students remained focused. Following her is Roland, suited, a barrel-chested African American, around fifty years old. His appearance caused Morgan to pause a bit longer than the girl’s entrance.

Julie looked back and observed the guest behind the class, the man’s suit didn’t appear to be cheap nor expensive, a possible government official. Who are you? Julie pondered but refocused on the lecture.

Morgan recovered with a cough and slowly walked from the left side to the right part of the stage. “If you look back at the constitutional convention, there was a lot of acrimony; it was not a united effort. Some states did not initially agree to the constitution, where it took them a bit of wrangling.”

Morgan continued his lesson about the Bill of Rights. Despite what most students would call dull subject matter, Morgan had a certain charisma about him, making it difficult for anyone to ignore his presence. He was comfortable with who he was, owning the room at his appearance, yet always making himself approachable to questions during and after class. Despite being head of the psychology department, Morgan kept his ego at the door, never revealing to his students that he is a department head. He also taught a single history class per semester.

“It was Jefferson’s idea to have a bill of rights because he was about individualism and individual rights. But Alexander Hamilton didn’t think it was necessary. The main reason is that we had fought this war and didn’t believe that we needed to write it down. It was a very… British way of thinking. However, some states wouldn’t agree to a constitution without a bill of rights. So, they created the bill of rights, which is the first ten amendments.”

Finally, he faced his students. “Even after there was division, but not just between Jefferson and Adams. No, that’s just the most well-known division between our founding fathers. Here is where a lot of the groundwork for the Civil War was being planted.” Morgan put out his palm and pretended he was planting a seed, and for a moment, his eyes turned to the tardy student. He almost burned a hole in her, then his eyes floated to the stranger in the doorway, who obviously to Morgan, saw the entire chess game.

Julie couldn’t help but think back to her friend group, where an action on one idea brought up week after week could split them. The concept that Amanda doesn’t belong and how she could be removed. Julie imagined a group vote being split. She, Shawn, and Morgan voting for her to stay, and Curt and Mark voting her to leave. The only person left would be Dean, and who knows which side he would vote.

Morgan blinked his eyes and refocused back to his job. He repositioned himself onstage and leaned against the edge of a table and continued to be in sight of the doorway guest. Morgan continued Civil War talk, discussing: slavery, the first political parties, and Washington’s farewell address warning us to be wary of political parties.

After another 20 minutes, Roland grew tired of waiting for class to end, so he tapped his watch, prompting Morgan to finish the lesson by giving out an assignment. As students started filing out, the Roland squeezed into the room, allowing the others to leave, all but one student, Julie. The tardy girl had a spoke with Morgan, and the guest stepped close enough to them where Julie felt his presence and turned her head back. She gave him a polite smile and said goodbye to Morgan. “Jules, I’ll see you at Shawn’s tonight,” Morgan said as she walked away but hovered close to listen.

The guest stepped closer and reached out for a handshake, “Professor Morgan Abbott, how the hell are you?”

Like a gentleman, Morgan returned the favor, “Good, how about you, Roland?”

Julie slowly gathered her belongings, cleverly eavesdropping but only caught the greetings portion of the conversation. She made her way out the class, and at the doorway, she glanced back and found the guest staring at her, unbeknownst to her, she and he had similar questions towards one another, Who are you?

She continued her day going to another class, but between courses, she arrived at Morgan’s office only to find him absent. One of the few professors to have an open office policy, because most avoided gun-wielding students angry about their slipping grades. The urge to discuss the guest dwelled deep within her, but she settled for silence. Reaching in her Jansport backpack, Julie grabbed and placed the slim jim set atop his desk. She stopped as her mischievous side engulfed her mind. She didn’t have a choice but accept the call of duty. Julie opened a small backpack pocket and removed a handful of brass objects and dropped them in his coffee cup; each piece sounded like change hitting an empty fountain. Happy with herself, Julie left and headed to her place to prep for tonight’s meeting.

An hour later, Morgan returned to the office following his lunch with the suit; immediately, the department secretary handed him a note for a meeting with all the other psychology professors to discuss acquiring an interim student teacher. Boring. Following a bit of small talk encouraged by the secretary, she left him alone, and he clicked on his coffee maker and looked over some paperwork. Once the brew completed, he grabbed his coffee cup, and the jingle inside prompted him to look inside. Peering at the shiny objects, he dumped the contents atop his desk. Brass shell casing of various sizes sprawled across his desk. He grabbed a shell casing, the bottom reading .45 cal. I love the calling card, Jules.