Poem: "A Writhing Snake Pit of Envy"
This poem is spillover from the April 2024 Crowdfunding Creative Jam. It was inspired by a discussion with Dreamwidth user Dialecticdreamer. It also fills the "Throwing the First Punch" square in my 4-1-24 card for the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Bingo fest. This poem has been sponsored by a pool with Fuzzyred. It belongs to the college arc of the Shiv thread in the Polychrome Heroics series. This poem follows "The Hope and Freedom You Exude," so read that first or this won't make much sense.
Warning: This poem contains intense and controversial topics. Highlight to read the more detailed warnings, some of which are spoilers. It includes emotional turmoil, outrage, reference to recent educational abuse, raised voices, peer conflicts among faculty, persistent refusal of blame, delusions of competence, insulting language, sexism and ageism, divergent perspectives, professional consequences, and other challenges. Survivors of educational abuse should think carefully about reading this, as it refers to very common types of abuse -- and reading about someone actually facing consequences for such abuse could be either gratifying as a fantasy or upsetting because it almost never happens in the American school system. If these are sensitive subjects for you, please consider your tastes and headspace before reading onward.
"A Writhing Snake Pit of Envy"
[Friday, June 17, 2016]
Millie Fiore was furious.
She had missed one workshop --
just one! -- because she'd fallen out
of a tree and wrenched her left wrist
when sketching, and while she was
getting that checked, Otto Aschenborn
had run her class right into the ground.
"Can you believe it?" Millie said as she
paced around Mardy O'Keeffe's office.
Long brown hair twitched back and forth
like a cat's tail, following her motion.
Millie had her own office, of course,
but it was crammed with desks and
books and bohemian knickknacks
that she used in her art lessons.
Mardy's office was more open,
with a desk and nature art, plus
old books in a glass-front case
and newer ones on open shelves.
They shared a dottie with two others,
and it was quite a nice place to work.
"Otto may be a stuffed shirt, but he is
good at sitting committees and picking up
classes at the last minute," said Mardy.
Her long blonde hair was pulled back
in a sensible braid tied with leather.
"Which would be great if he hadn't
botched it," said Millie. "I mean, look
at this -- five students walked out. Five!"
She waved the paperwork in the air.
"Really?" Mardy said, her eyebrows
going up. "I heard about the walkout,
but not that it was so many. I thought
that it had been just that one boy."
Millie shook her head. "Two boys,
two girls, and one older man."
"That's not good," Mardy said.
"All right, let's think about this."
It was one of the things that
Millie liked about her -- Mardy
was calm and practical, used
to sketching animals in the wild,
and you couldn't flitter doing that.
"Okay," Millie said. She plopped
into a chair and tried not to fidget.
"We can't let him get away with it."
Mardy nodded. "That would set
a bad precedent," she agreed.
"So what would you like to do?"
"Well, the students need a refund
at the very least," said Millie. "They
booked the workshop expecting me,
but they didn't get what they paid for
and it turned into such a disaster."
"That's reasonable," said Mardy.
"What else are you considering?"
"I don't know, nailing Otto's hide
to the wall? Filling his car with
flower petals?" Millie said.
"Maybe something a little bit
more practical," Mardy said.
But then Millie could hear
Otto's voice through the wall,
complaining about something.
She dashed into the hallway.
Otto was trying to hold up his story,
but apparently his peers weren't buying it.
Antonius Bridgman, Professor of Urban Art,
was frowning and had his arms crossed.
The black man was sensitive about
issues of educational abuse.
Reuben Cooper, Professor of
Small Sculpture, was shaking
his head over something.
"No, really," Otto said. "All
I did was the usual critique,
and they just gave up!"
"The way I heard it,
said Antonius, "you
made a girl cry."
"Wait, I didn't hear
that part," said Millie.
"Well, look who's tardy,"
Otto drawled, looking at her.
"Otto, I don't appreciate you
throwing the first punch, even
verbally," said Sidney Evergood
Head of the Department of Art and
Art History. "I expect my faculty
to behave like responsible adults."
"That would be nice," Otto said as
he glared at Millie. "Good luck with it."
Head Evergood sighed. "Ladies and
gentlemen, let's take this somewhere
a little more private, if you please."
He ushered them into his office, which
was a big beautiful room on the corner
of the building, with large windows
and hanging lamps like half-moons.
Low bookcases and cabinets ran
around the walls under the windows,
with a fireplace on the right wall.
In the middle were the desks and
a conference table with chairs.
It even had its own dottie, rather
than sharing one like the other offices.
Head Evergood took his seat at one end
of the conference table and beckoned
for the rest of them to sit down too.
"College is supposed to be a place of
learning, not a writhing snake pit of envy,"
he said. "Let's talk about what went wrong."
"I didn't do anything wrong," Otto protested.
"I just took over a workshop class for
a colleague who was not present.
The students were ... not ideal, but
I still finished the class despite that."
"You were supposed to teach them,
not drop them on their heads to see
if they'd bounce," Millie snapped.
"And you were supposed to present
that workshop in the first place, but
then you did not show up," Otto said.
"I can't help it that I fell out of a tree
and wrenched my wrist!" she protested,
waving her left hand in its flexible brace.
"You are old enough to know better
than to go climbing trees," he argued.
"Now you know why -- because you
fall out and can't meet your obligations,
so someone else has to pick up the slack."
"Now, Otto, I know you don't care for
climbing trees, but not everyone wants
to keep their feet on the ground every day
of their lives," Antonius pointed out.
"You really were hard on them, and
none of those students were actually
college students," Reuben added.
"Let's go over what happened,
so it doesn't happen again,"
Head Evergood suggested.
"Millie signed up to teach
a workshop and then didn't,
so I had to do it," said Otto.
"Millie had her doctor send
a report, and injury constitutes
an excused absence from work,"
said Head Evergood. "Millie,
will your wrist be all right?"
"Oh yeah, it's not broken,
just banged up," she said.
"It should be fine in a week
or two, but I won't be climbing
any more trees for a while."
"I'm glad you're mostly okay,"
said Head Evergood. "So Otto,
you volunteered to run the class..."
"Somebody had to do it, and it was
just mixing paint," said Otto. "I'm
good at that, so I volunteered. I
wasn't expecting the students
to be such special snowflakes."
"That's not the most polite way you
could put that," said Head Evergood.
"I received reports that five students
walked out of the workshop early."
"Well, it started with one snotty boy,"
said Otto. "When he decided to quit, he
egged the others on, and they followed."
"When did that happen?" said Antonius.
"Early in the class, or closer to the end?"
"Not even halfway through," said Otto.
"We were still going over mixing methods,
before getting to the free paint period."
"They'd probably appreciate a refund,"
Reuben said. "I didn't know it was so early."
"I wanted to ask for that," said Millie. "I
think that my students should get a refund
if the class was so bad they walked out."
"I've done that if someone had to leave
one of my classes en plein air," said Mardy.
"Most often it happens because of allergies."
"But they chose to leave," Otto complained.
"And why is that?" said Head Evergood.
"I have reports of a girl crying. Not all of
the departing students listed a reason,
or even filed a complaint. But one of
them did leave this in the classroom."
He flicked a small card onto the table.
It had a cartoon man standing in front of
a gumball machine full of black marbles and
a few white ones, holding a handful black marbles
and then a single white marble in his fingertips.
It read, In the infinitude of the universe,
there exist educational experiences
that I do not despise. Alas, you
are one of the black balls.
"I hadn't heard that part
before," Millie said, frowning.
"Oh, it's a kind of help card,"
Antonius said. "You know, like
when someone needs assistance
riding a bus and they hand a card
to the staff at the station because
it's hard for them to talk about."
"Okay, I've seen those cards,"
said Millie. "This looks like
someone has had a lot of
bad experiences in school,
then got another one here."
"Not a good thing," said Reuben.
"We should be better than that."
"It's why I like taking my classes
outdoors when I can," said Mardy.
"Just getting away from classrooms
avoids a lot of educational triggers."
"But I didn't do anything wrong,"
Otto said. "I was being helpful."
"Did you enjoy the workshop?"
Head Evergood asked him.
"It was all right. It had
to be done," Otto said.
"Do you consider students
walking out of your class
to be an optimum result?"
Head Evergood asked.
"Well, no," Otto admitted.
"They're not supposed
to go until I dismiss them."
"Then you agree that things
did not go as planned and it
would be best to avoid that in
the future," said Head Evergood.
"I suppose so," Otto said. "I'd
rather not have to do that again."
"Finally," said Antonius. "I've only
been trying to convince you of
that for the last half an hour."
Otto looked unhappy. He might
ignore Millie because she was a girl
and relatively new as a professor, and
he overlooked Mardy at least half
of the time too, but he seemed
to care more about the men
he considered his peers.
"First of all, refunds are
approved for the students
who walked out of the class,"
said Head Evergood. "They
may choose cash back or
credit for a different class."
"Thank you," Millie said.
"That should help soothe
some of the ruffled feathers."
She wasn't about to ask Otto
for an apology when he
obviously wasn't sorry.
Her students deserved
better than that nonsense.
"Millie, can you think of
anything else that might
help?" said Head Evergood.
"Maybe we could work up
something about how to teach
and grade classes in summer,"
said Millie. "Even if they're open
to college students, they often
attract others who aren't and who
don't want such a rigid experience."
"I follow you," said Mardy. "I get
a lot of nontraditional students in
my summer classes. Some of them
come to college later, others don't.
They need a bit different approach."
Head Evergood made note. "Okay,
I'll ask around for more ideas on that,
and write up suggestions for faculty
teaching the summer courses."
"I'll need to check my notes, but
I do some different things in summer,"
said Reuben. "More recycled glass
and whimsical projects, those work."
"Otto, do you have any insights?"
Head Evergood asked him.
"I don't seem to see things like
the rest of you," Otto muttered.
"Well, did you enjoy teaching
the paint mixing workshop?"
asked Head Evergood.
"I thought it would be fine,
it's only mixing paint and I've
done that in technical classes,"
said Otto. "It just ... didn't work out."
"Maybe because your description is
different from mine," said Millie. "It
probably attracts different people."
She loved teaching basic classes
because it was so much fun watching
people explore the media. Mixing paints
let you do all kinds of exciting things.
Otto was much more fussy and
precise about it, but then, he also
ran classes on drafting for students
in engineering or architecture tracks.
"That brings me to another point,"
said Head Evergood. "When I took
this department several years ago,
I left its previous practices in place.
This incident makes me think we
should reconsider some of those."
"Like what?" said Antonius. "You're
not the only one who'd rather not
mess with established patterns."
"I think it's a good idea," said Mardy.
"What just went wrong is why we
should take a closer look at things."
"Custom has been that any teacher
qualified to cover a colleague's class
is free to volunteer," said Head Evergood.
"I think the faculty should make note of
what they do well, and what they do
badly so they should avoid doing it."
"That's a good idea," said Millie.
"I wouldn't want to try teaching
one of Otto's classes either."
"I could do some of them,"
said Reuben. "I wouldn't care
to try Mardy's classes, though."
"What, hers are easy to do,"
said Millie. "I love nature."
"Not everyone does, though,"
Antonius pointed out. "I think
the Head is right, we should
consider our skills and style."
"And when you can't find a match
to cover a class?" Otto demanded.
"Then we cancel the class, just like
we would if the planned space had
to be closed and we couldn't find
a replacement," said the Head.
"That would have been better,"
said Millie. "My students would've
been disappointed, but at least then
they wouldn't have gotten hurt."
"I didn't hurt anyone," Otto said.
"They were just being over-sensitive."
"Crying girl," Antonius reminded him.
"That means somebody got hurt."
"I have to concur," said Head Evergood.
"A crying student is never a good sign.
Remember, once outside their window
of tolerance, they can't learn anything."
"That's why I try to keep my classes
lighthearted and curious instead
of grueling," Millie pointed out.
"I hate teaching intro classes,"
Otto grumbled. "I'd rather work
with students who are committed."
"I hate committees," Millie said.
"Everyone hates committees,
except Otto," Mardy replied.
"Then let's play to our strengths,"
said Head Evergood. "Otto,
you're excused from classes
for the rest of the summer,
except your specialty ones.
In exchange, you'll take on
more work in committees."
"That suits me," Otto said.
"Send me a list of committees
and I'll meet with each of them."
"This gives us time to work out
who can sub for whom, and who
really can't," said Dean Evergood.
"We'll get on that," Mardy said.
"I think it'll make an improvement."
"I've got my notes," said Antonius.
"I'll type them up and email them."
"I'm not sure about my classes,"
said Reuben. "There's bound to be
some overlap, but most of what I do
is three-dimensional rather than two,
and not everyone is familiar with that."
"I'll give you a hand," said Antonius.
"It's not all that complicated."
"I look forward to seeing what
you come up with," said the Head.
"Otto, stick around, I would like
another word with you. The rest
of you may return to your offices."
"Come on, Millie," said Mardy.
"We can work on the notes for
our class coverage together."
Millie followed Mardy out.
"I got most of what I wanted,
it's just not very satisfying,"
she said. "I wish I could've --"
"What do you MEAN you're
docking my summer-end bonus?"
Otto bellowed through the door.
"You made a girl cry, five students
walked out of class, and one of them
left a scathing card," Head Evergood said
in a quieter but still audible tone. "I'm not
dipping into the department's budget
to cover for your mistake, Otto."
"So much for issuing reprimands
in private," Mardy observed.
Millie burst into giggles.
She had gotten the rest of
what she wanted after all:
Justice.
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its character (Part 1: Sidney Evergood, Part 2: Millicent "Millie" Fiore, Part 3: Mardy O'Keeffe, Part 4: Antonius Bridgman, Part 5: Reuben Cooper), location, and content notes appear separately.
Warning: This poem contains intense and controversial topics. Highlight to read the more detailed warnings, some of which are spoilers. It includes emotional turmoil, outrage, reference to recent educational abuse, raised voices, peer conflicts among faculty, persistent refusal of blame, delusions of competence, insulting language, sexism and ageism, divergent perspectives, professional consequences, and other challenges. Survivors of educational abuse should think carefully about reading this, as it refers to very common types of abuse -- and reading about someone actually facing consequences for such abuse could be either gratifying as a fantasy or upsetting because it almost never happens in the American school system. If these are sensitive subjects for you, please consider your tastes and headspace before reading onward.
"A Writhing Snake Pit of Envy"
[Friday, June 17, 2016]
Millie Fiore was furious.
She had missed one workshop --
just one! -- because she'd fallen out
of a tree and wrenched her left wrist
when sketching, and while she was
getting that checked, Otto Aschenborn
had run her class right into the ground.
"Can you believe it?" Millie said as she
paced around Mardy O'Keeffe's office.
Long brown hair twitched back and forth
like a cat's tail, following her motion.
Millie had her own office, of course,
but it was crammed with desks and
books and bohemian knickknacks
that she used in her art lessons.
Mardy's office was more open,
with a desk and nature art, plus
old books in a glass-front case
and newer ones on open shelves.
They shared a dottie with two others,
and it was quite a nice place to work.
"Otto may be a stuffed shirt, but he is
good at sitting committees and picking up
classes at the last minute," said Mardy.
Her long blonde hair was pulled back
in a sensible braid tied with leather.
"Which would be great if he hadn't
botched it," said Millie. "I mean, look
at this -- five students walked out. Five!"
She waved the paperwork in the air.
"Really?" Mardy said, her eyebrows
going up. "I heard about the walkout,
but not that it was so many. I thought
that it had been just that one boy."
Millie shook her head. "Two boys,
two girls, and one older man."
"That's not good," Mardy said.
"All right, let's think about this."
It was one of the things that
Millie liked about her -- Mardy
was calm and practical, used
to sketching animals in the wild,
and you couldn't flitter doing that.
"Okay," Millie said. She plopped
into a chair and tried not to fidget.
"We can't let him get away with it."
Mardy nodded. "That would set
a bad precedent," she agreed.
"So what would you like to do?"
"Well, the students need a refund
at the very least," said Millie. "They
booked the workshop expecting me,
but they didn't get what they paid for
and it turned into such a disaster."
"That's reasonable," said Mardy.
"What else are you considering?"
"I don't know, nailing Otto's hide
to the wall? Filling his car with
flower petals?" Millie said.
"Maybe something a little bit
more practical," Mardy said.
But then Millie could hear
Otto's voice through the wall,
complaining about something.
She dashed into the hallway.
Otto was trying to hold up his story,
but apparently his peers weren't buying it.
Antonius Bridgman, Professor of Urban Art,
was frowning and had his arms crossed.
The black man was sensitive about
issues of educational abuse.
Reuben Cooper, Professor of
Small Sculpture, was shaking
his head over something.
"No, really," Otto said. "All
I did was the usual critique,
and they just gave up!"
"The way I heard it,
said Antonius, "you
made a girl cry."
"Wait, I didn't hear
that part," said Millie.
"Well, look who's tardy,"
Otto drawled, looking at her.
"Otto, I don't appreciate you
throwing the first punch, even
verbally," said Sidney Evergood
Head of the Department of Art and
Art History. "I expect my faculty
to behave like responsible adults."
"That would be nice," Otto said as
he glared at Millie. "Good luck with it."
Head Evergood sighed. "Ladies and
gentlemen, let's take this somewhere
a little more private, if you please."
He ushered them into his office, which
was a big beautiful room on the corner
of the building, with large windows
and hanging lamps like half-moons.
Low bookcases and cabinets ran
around the walls under the windows,
with a fireplace on the right wall.
In the middle were the desks and
a conference table with chairs.
It even had its own dottie, rather
than sharing one like the other offices.
Head Evergood took his seat at one end
of the conference table and beckoned
for the rest of them to sit down too.
"College is supposed to be a place of
learning, not a writhing snake pit of envy,"
he said. "Let's talk about what went wrong."
"I didn't do anything wrong," Otto protested.
"I just took over a workshop class for
a colleague who was not present.
The students were ... not ideal, but
I still finished the class despite that."
"You were supposed to teach them,
not drop them on their heads to see
if they'd bounce," Millie snapped.
"And you were supposed to present
that workshop in the first place, but
then you did not show up," Otto said.
"I can't help it that I fell out of a tree
and wrenched my wrist!" she protested,
waving her left hand in its flexible brace.
"You are old enough to know better
than to go climbing trees," he argued.
"Now you know why -- because you
fall out and can't meet your obligations,
so someone else has to pick up the slack."
"Now, Otto, I know you don't care for
climbing trees, but not everyone wants
to keep their feet on the ground every day
of their lives," Antonius pointed out.
"You really were hard on them, and
none of those students were actually
college students," Reuben added.
"Let's go over what happened,
so it doesn't happen again,"
Head Evergood suggested.
"Millie signed up to teach
a workshop and then didn't,
so I had to do it," said Otto.
"Millie had her doctor send
a report, and injury constitutes
an excused absence from work,"
said Head Evergood. "Millie,
will your wrist be all right?"
"Oh yeah, it's not broken,
just banged up," she said.
"It should be fine in a week
or two, but I won't be climbing
any more trees for a while."
"I'm glad you're mostly okay,"
said Head Evergood. "So Otto,
you volunteered to run the class..."
"Somebody had to do it, and it was
just mixing paint," said Otto. "I'm
good at that, so I volunteered. I
wasn't expecting the students
to be such special snowflakes."
"That's not the most polite way you
could put that," said Head Evergood.
"I received reports that five students
walked out of the workshop early."
"Well, it started with one snotty boy,"
said Otto. "When he decided to quit, he
egged the others on, and they followed."
"When did that happen?" said Antonius.
"Early in the class, or closer to the end?"
"Not even halfway through," said Otto.
"We were still going over mixing methods,
before getting to the free paint period."
"They'd probably appreciate a refund,"
Reuben said. "I didn't know it was so early."
"I wanted to ask for that," said Millie. "I
think that my students should get a refund
if the class was so bad they walked out."
"I've done that if someone had to leave
one of my classes en plein air," said Mardy.
"Most often it happens because of allergies."
"But they chose to leave," Otto complained.
"And why is that?" said Head Evergood.
"I have reports of a girl crying. Not all of
the departing students listed a reason,
or even filed a complaint. But one of
them did leave this in the classroom."
He flicked a small card onto the table.
It had a cartoon man standing in front of
a gumball machine full of black marbles and
a few white ones, holding a handful black marbles
and then a single white marble in his fingertips.
It read, In the infinitude of the universe,
there exist educational experiences
that I do not despise. Alas, you
are one of the black balls.
"I hadn't heard that part
before," Millie said, frowning.
"Oh, it's a kind of help card,"
Antonius said. "You know, like
when someone needs assistance
riding a bus and they hand a card
to the staff at the station because
it's hard for them to talk about."
"Okay, I've seen those cards,"
said Millie. "This looks like
someone has had a lot of
bad experiences in school,
then got another one here."
"Not a good thing," said Reuben.
"We should be better than that."
"It's why I like taking my classes
outdoors when I can," said Mardy.
"Just getting away from classrooms
avoids a lot of educational triggers."
"But I didn't do anything wrong,"
Otto said. "I was being helpful."
"Did you enjoy the workshop?"
Head Evergood asked him.
"It was all right. It had
to be done," Otto said.
"Do you consider students
walking out of your class
to be an optimum result?"
Head Evergood asked.
"Well, no," Otto admitted.
"They're not supposed
to go until I dismiss them."
"Then you agree that things
did not go as planned and it
would be best to avoid that in
the future," said Head Evergood.
"I suppose so," Otto said. "I'd
rather not have to do that again."
"Finally," said Antonius. "I've only
been trying to convince you of
that for the last half an hour."
Otto looked unhappy. He might
ignore Millie because she was a girl
and relatively new as a professor, and
he overlooked Mardy at least half
of the time too, but he seemed
to care more about the men
he considered his peers.
"First of all, refunds are
approved for the students
who walked out of the class,"
said Head Evergood. "They
may choose cash back or
credit for a different class."
"Thank you," Millie said.
"That should help soothe
some of the ruffled feathers."
She wasn't about to ask Otto
for an apology when he
obviously wasn't sorry.
Her students deserved
better than that nonsense.
"Millie, can you think of
anything else that might
help?" said Head Evergood.
"Maybe we could work up
something about how to teach
and grade classes in summer,"
said Millie. "Even if they're open
to college students, they often
attract others who aren't and who
don't want such a rigid experience."
"I follow you," said Mardy. "I get
a lot of nontraditional students in
my summer classes. Some of them
come to college later, others don't.
They need a bit different approach."
Head Evergood made note. "Okay,
I'll ask around for more ideas on that,
and write up suggestions for faculty
teaching the summer courses."
"I'll need to check my notes, but
I do some different things in summer,"
said Reuben. "More recycled glass
and whimsical projects, those work."
"Otto, do you have any insights?"
Head Evergood asked him.
"I don't seem to see things like
the rest of you," Otto muttered.
"Well, did you enjoy teaching
the paint mixing workshop?"
asked Head Evergood.
"I thought it would be fine,
it's only mixing paint and I've
done that in technical classes,"
said Otto. "It just ... didn't work out."
"Maybe because your description is
different from mine," said Millie. "It
probably attracts different people."
She loved teaching basic classes
because it was so much fun watching
people explore the media. Mixing paints
let you do all kinds of exciting things.
Otto was much more fussy and
precise about it, but then, he also
ran classes on drafting for students
in engineering or architecture tracks.
"That brings me to another point,"
said Head Evergood. "When I took
this department several years ago,
I left its previous practices in place.
This incident makes me think we
should reconsider some of those."
"Like what?" said Antonius. "You're
not the only one who'd rather not
mess with established patterns."
"I think it's a good idea," said Mardy.
"What just went wrong is why we
should take a closer look at things."
"Custom has been that any teacher
qualified to cover a colleague's class
is free to volunteer," said Head Evergood.
"I think the faculty should make note of
what they do well, and what they do
badly so they should avoid doing it."
"That's a good idea," said Millie.
"I wouldn't want to try teaching
one of Otto's classes either."
"I could do some of them,"
said Reuben. "I wouldn't care
to try Mardy's classes, though."
"What, hers are easy to do,"
said Millie. "I love nature."
"Not everyone does, though,"
Antonius pointed out. "I think
the Head is right, we should
consider our skills and style."
"And when you can't find a match
to cover a class?" Otto demanded.
"Then we cancel the class, just like
we would if the planned space had
to be closed and we couldn't find
a replacement," said the Head.
"That would have been better,"
said Millie. "My students would've
been disappointed, but at least then
they wouldn't have gotten hurt."
"I didn't hurt anyone," Otto said.
"They were just being over-sensitive."
"Crying girl," Antonius reminded him.
"That means somebody got hurt."
"I have to concur," said Head Evergood.
"A crying student is never a good sign.
Remember, once outside their window
of tolerance, they can't learn anything."
"That's why I try to keep my classes
lighthearted and curious instead
of grueling," Millie pointed out.
"I hate teaching intro classes,"
Otto grumbled. "I'd rather work
with students who are committed."
"I hate committees," Millie said.
"Everyone hates committees,
except Otto," Mardy replied.
"Then let's play to our strengths,"
said Head Evergood. "Otto,
you're excused from classes
for the rest of the summer,
except your specialty ones.
In exchange, you'll take on
more work in committees."
"That suits me," Otto said.
"Send me a list of committees
and I'll meet with each of them."
"This gives us time to work out
who can sub for whom, and who
really can't," said Dean Evergood.
"We'll get on that," Mardy said.
"I think it'll make an improvement."
"I've got my notes," said Antonius.
"I'll type them up and email them."
"I'm not sure about my classes,"
said Reuben. "There's bound to be
some overlap, but most of what I do
is three-dimensional rather than two,
and not everyone is familiar with that."
"I'll give you a hand," said Antonius.
"It's not all that complicated."
"I look forward to seeing what
you come up with," said the Head.
"Otto, stick around, I would like
another word with you. The rest
of you may return to your offices."
"Come on, Millie," said Mardy.
"We can work on the notes for
our class coverage together."
Millie followed Mardy out.
"I got most of what I wanted,
it's just not very satisfying,"
she said. "I wish I could've --"
"What do you MEAN you're
docking my summer-end bonus?"
Otto bellowed through the door.
"You made a girl cry, five students
walked out of class, and one of them
left a scathing card," Head Evergood said
in a quieter but still audible tone. "I'm not
dipping into the department's budget
to cover for your mistake, Otto."
"So much for issuing reprimands
in private," Mardy observed.
Millie burst into giggles.
She had gotten the rest of
what she wanted after all:
Justice.
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its character (Part 1: Sidney Evergood, Part 2: Millicent "Millie" Fiore, Part 3: Mardy O'Keeffe, Part 4: Antonius Bridgman, Part 5: Reuben Cooper), location, and content notes appear separately.