Mr. Chalk Chapter 12

12

Professor Ruth, as her students liked to call her, was hurrying back to her office from class. “Why does timetabling,” she thought to herself as she dodged another slow moving student, “always schedule my classes in different buildings?” 

With only fifteen minutes between classes, Ruth had to finish her first class, rush back to her office, grab her notes and supplies for the second class and dash off to a different building.

The lapels on her grey suit jacket flapped slightly as she quickly weaved between the slower moving students on the sidewalk. A white long sleeve silk blouse, pleated skirt and low heels complemented her jacket. The professional looking ensemble was highlighted by Ruth’s slim athletic figure and dark auburn hair that fell loosely to her shoulders. Students would tell her that she looked like Grace from an old sit-com. Ruth hoped that was a complement, having never seen the show or having much time for television.

“I swear,” thought Ruth, “that timetabling crew just sits up they’re in their office laughing at me sprinting between buildings.”

Ruth entered the Doreen Building of the Arts and raced down the hallway to her office. She fumbled for her office keys as she tried to balance her collection of books, binders, student papers and notes on her right arm. She managed to grab the key ring from her pocket and was attempting to thumb through the assortment of keys on the ring with her left hand. “Come on, come on!” thought Ruth as the key ring began to slip from her grasp. Her attempts to balance all the different loads suddenly turned into a juggling act.

The juggling act was short lived, however, as Ruth now stood in front of her office door holding only the key ring. All her previously held books, binders, notes and student papers were now lying on the floor. Ruth calmly looked at the key ring, selected the correct key and swung open her office door. She took one small backward step behind the pile of paper academia lying on the floor. “Dammit!” she yelled, as she swept her right foot forward in a large sweeping motion. Her foot caught the pile of students’ papers and sent them soaring into the office. The papers fell like autumn leaves spreading completely across her desk, the floor and a tidy little man sitting in Ruth’s chair.

“Who the hell are you?” exclaimed Ruth. She was angry but she was also startled at seeing an intruder in her office.

“Hello,” replied Mr. Chalk as he began to stack the papers from his lap onto Ruth’s desk.

“Stop doing that,” Ruth protested, “and tell me what you are doing in my office?”

Mr. Chalk stopped stacking papers on the desk and looked up at Ruth.

“I’m sorry for the interruption,” said Mr. Chalk, “but it was imperative that we meet.”

Ruth glared at Mr. Chalk and slowly moved towards her desk. Standing on the opposite side of the desk to Mr. Chalk, she reached for her phone. “If you don’t tell me who you are,” said Ruth, pointing the phone’s receiver at Mr. Chalk, “I’m calling security.”

Mr. Chalk stood and adjusted his suit jacket. “Why, I’m Mr. Chalk and I’m so pleased we finally have met.”

Ruth waited for Mr. Chalk to continue with his introduction but he simply stood there with a small smile on his face.

“Get out,” said Ruth pointing to the open door with the phone receiver.

“I beg your pardon,” said Mr. Chalk.

“Get out,” repeated Ruth. “I’m late for my next class and you are sitting in my office without my permission.”

Mr. Chalk gave a slight bow towards Ruth.

“My apologies for arriving at an inopportune time,” said Mr. Chalk “might we meet later?”

Ruth was now clearly flustered. “Yes…no… well maybe,” Ruth said in exasperation. “Just get out and we’ll talk later.”

“Excellent,” said Mr. Chalk, “until later then,” as he began to walk around from behind the desk. Ruth circled the desk in the opposite direction with the phone receiver still in her hand. 

As Mr. Chalk left the office, he turned, gave another small smile to Ruth and disappeared down the hallway.

Ruth stared at the open door of her office with the phone receiver still in her hand. “What the hell was that?” thought Ruth and then suddenly realized she was late. She slammed down the phone receiver and started frantically searching for her books and notes.

Bundling her papers and books under one arm, Ruth sprinted out of the office, shut the door behind her and began running to her next class. “I don’t need this,” she kept repeating as she headed down the hallway and out the front door.

Once outside, Ruth began to sprint across the campus to the Engineering Sciences buildings. Ruth enjoyed teaching this class because it was a general introduction to the ancient civilizations of the Americas. It was taught as an option to non-archaeological students and allowed Ruth the flexibility to become more of a storyteller and bring history alive. To Ruth, history was more than bits of pottery and dusty remnants of the past. It was about people who lived, loved and died. They were the old ones and their stories were our stories; guiding us through the uncertainties of life.

Ruth hurriedly entered the classroom and glanced at the clock on the wall at the front of the class. As she looked up at the clock, she could hear groans of disapproval from the engineering students at the back of the class. The general accepted rule around campus was that if a professor was more than twenty minutes late for class, the class was cancelled. Ruth was eighteen minutes late.

Ruth gave a weak smile as she turned towards the class and placed her bundle of books and notes on the lectern. “I’m sorry I’m late,” smiled Ruth as she directed her gaze to the front rows of the class. The students smiled back and were generally appreciative that the class was beginning. Ruth then shifted her gaze up and towards the back rows of the lecture theatre. “And I’m sorry I’m not late enough,” smiled Ruth to the group of engineering students who were only two minutes away from bolting from the class. The engineering students caught the inside joke, and glancing at one another, opened their notebooks for the class.

Ruth began to sift through her papers at the lectern but soon began to realize that she had forgotten to bring her notes for the day’s lecture. “I don’t need this,” she said to herself as she began the lecture without backup notes.

She was still in a foul mood by the end of the class but also slightly impressed at how well her lecture was received by the students. “Maybe there is something about not using lecture notes,” thought Ruth, “the lecture had seemed smoother and created more interest with the students.” There was even a polite, yet small, applause at the end of the class. “That’s never happened before,” thought Ruth.

The students began to close their notebooks and pick up their belongings as they milled towards the exit of the classroom. All of the students except for one. He had sat in the back row of the class, with his hands gently resting on the desk, listening intently to Professor Ruth for the entire lecture. He was the same young man with the sky blue eyes that had assisted Mr. Chalk earlier that day. “It’s all starting to come together,” thought Bradley Dubell as he watched Professor Ruth Hawkins leave the classroom.