Don dropped into one of the leather wingchairs with a deep sigh.
"What's the matter?"
"If I'd known registering for classes would be such a hassle, I'm not sure I'd of bothered. It was organized confusion."
"Did you get the schedule you wanted?"
"Yeah, it's not bad. At least I managed to get all the professors Mike told me about, except for English."
"What happened there?"
"He quit at the last minute, so now I'm in a class with no teacher." Don looked thoughtful. "Don't you have a degree in English?"
Kurt nodded.
"Why don't you apply? They're looking for somebody to take his classes."
Kurt frowned in thought. "Hmmm. I certainly hadn't thought about teaching just yet, but it might be interesting. How many classes did he have?"
Don pulled a schedule from his notebook and ran a finger down the page. "Two in American Lit and one in grammar."
"American literature was my major. If I were to do it, it would take a lot of work over the weekend to get prepared. Do you remember ... no, you wouldn't."
"What?"
"I'm trying to remember where I put those teaching notes Uncle Paul made up."
"Wasn't that what you had me help you take up to the attic? You put them in the file cabinet up there."
"That's right. Assuming I get the position, you'll have to help me dig them out."
"You mean you're really going to do it?" Don jiggled up and down on his toes. "It'll be great having you for a teacher."
"I haven't even applied yet, so don't get excited."
Kurt toyed with the idea for the rest of the evening. He looked over the vast amount of resource material provided by the books his uncle had collected. The file cabinet, he knew, was jammed with lecture notes, clippings, and related odds and ends. By good fortune, his uncle had never thrown anything away, but filed it carefully.
Academic records in hand, Kurt rode to the college with Don the next morning, going to the administration building. After filling in several forms the dean's secretary handed him, she motioned Kurt into his office.
"Mr. Lawrence, what can I do for you?"
"My son tells me that you are looking for an English instructor. After some thought, I decided to apply." He handed him the forms he'd filled out.
The dean looked over Kurt's resume, then at him with hope. "At present this is just a part-time position involving three classes. Your resume is impressive, but under the circumstances, however, I'm afraid the best I can offer you is an instructorship. If you will accept that, we'd be delighted to have you on staff. If you wish to continue with us, you will certainly be considered for promotion when the permanent position opens next quarter. You can't imagine what it's like trying to find someone this late."
"It will be good to get back to work."
"I think you'll find everyone here helpful. Your classes meet Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Your first class is at nine and the last at noon."
"How will that work in with Don's schedule? I thought we might ride in together on those days."
The dean picked up his phone, jotting notes as the information was relayed to him. "Don's last class on those days happens to be yours."
"Fine."
"The texts were selected by the former teacher and there will be copies in your office. Could you possibly be prepared for classes by Monday?"
"Of course."
"Wonderful! I would like brief syllabi for each of your courses when you have time to write them. Let me get the keys and show you where your office is."
After the dean left him, Kurt looked about the spartan space. What have I let myself in for, he wondered, as he pulled the door closed behind him and rode the lift to the ground floor. He glimpsed Don coming out of the student center. "My office is 312. Come by as soon as you get out of class so I can get home and start work."
Don's face lighted. "You got it!"
"Yeah. I think you've gotten me in trouble."
Don moved gingerly about the house. He knew that if Kurt were half as apprehensive about teaching as he was about all of the courses he was taking, he would need the mass of material he was working through. With Erik on weekend duty, there was nothing to disrupt Kurt's concentration.
Monday, Kurt faced the first class fully prepared, aware of the many suspicious glances in his direction and the absence of a normal amount of chatter as the students entered. Three students came through the rear door just as he completed the roll. He looked at them sternly. "This class will start promptly. I expect you to be on time."
Groans arose as he distributed copies of the course syllabus, announced the parallel reading to be done, and the requirements for the term paper. He noted the disinterest exhibited by several of them.
Once he regained the sanctuary of his office, he felt discontent. He had given them a challenge, now he wondered how many of them would take it.
There was little for him to do in the remedial grammar class beyond guiding them through the prepared exercises until they were ready for writing assignments. He was pouring a cup of tea from his thermos when his office door burst open. Don grinned at him. "Hi. I know it's early, but want something to hold you over 'til we get home?"
"Where?"
Don set down his drink, opened a white paper bag, and slid a sandwich across the desk. He dropped down in the other chair and unwrapped a sandwich for himself.
"There's a slop shop down in the basement. So how'd it go?"
"The grammar class is fine, but if your lit class is like the one I just finished, I don't know. Let me know what you hear the others saying when class is over."
Don ate rapidly and left for his next class. Kurt sat reviewing his notes. At a knock on the door, he looked up. "Come in, Dean."
"Would you tell me what you are requiring in your literature classes?"
Kurt handed him a copy of the class syllabus and briefly reviewed the requirements with a worried look. "Is something wrong?"
"Not at all. Three of your students have requested a change of section, saying that you're requiring too much. I thought I should check before accepting their excuse."
"I shall expect you to tell me if I'm out of line."
"I would, but your syllabi look fine. I definitely approve of your course as you've outlined it. I'll be happy to help if you have any problems."
When Kurt stepped into the room for his last class, the girl seated next to Don looked up. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth and stifle the sharp intake of breath, her expression was one of incredulity. She leaned over and whispered to Don, "Is that our teacher?"
"Yeah. That's Kurt."
She watched as Kurt wrote his name on the board, then leaned back toward Don and whispered, "How do you know Mr. Lawrence well enough to call him by his first name?"
"He's my dad."
"You're kidding! There's no way he's old enough to be your father. He's the most handsome man I've ever seen."
"He looks okay, I guess. Gee, you don't even know me yet and you're going to throw me over for him."
"No, silly, but I don't know when I've ever seen a beautiful man like him." She stopped whispering when Kurt closed the door.
Kurt winked at Don as he turned back to the podium, feeling secure. He watched with secret amusement the expression of disbelief that crossed Don's face as he outlined the requirements. Don leaned over to whisper something to the girl, but becoming aware of the sudden silence, he straightened up, his face crimson as he saw Kurt looking fixedly at him.
At the end of the period, Don left with the girl. Kurt picked up his briefcase and took the lift down. Don was waiting by the Jeep. "Jesus, Kurt! What are you trying to do, make it impossible?"
"What do you mean?"
"All that parallel reading and a term paper."
"My requirements are no more than you'd find at any college. If you keep up with your reading it won't be difficult, and you have the advantage of an excellent library at home." Kurt felt Don's resentment.
Dinner was quieter than usual and, afterward, Don studied as Kurt worked on his lectures for the next class meetings. Coastie sensed something unusual, for he curled up in Erik's chair regarding his humans with unblinking eyes.
Kurt ate a sandwich in his office. He had not seen Don since they had arrived. He looked up as his office door opened, expecting to see him, instead, Mike stood there.
"I was delighted when I got the dean's note that you'd joined us, Kurt. How's it going?"
"Not too bad for a first-time teacher, I guess. Have you seen Don?"
"He's down in the slop shop with a girl. That boy works fast. The first week of classes and he's already staked out one of the best looking girls on campus."
"I'm glad he's found someone he enjoys being with. I hope he doesn't let his work suffer."
"Don't worry about that, I'll keep him straight."
Don entered the classroom and took his seat without looking at Kurt. His set expression did not change as he took notes, nor did he speak when the class ended. Kurt took a moment to straightened the papers on his desk before picking up his briefcase. Don lounged against the wall opposite Kurt's office door, feet crossed, his hand and the hook in the back pockets of his jeans, a sullen look on his face.
"Ready?" Kurt asked
After dinner, Kurt sat pondering the resentment that permeated the two literature classes. The dean seemed satisfied, but he knew his students were not doing their assigned reading. Though Don had sat with the text for over an hour the evening before, Kurt knew that he hadn't the faintest idea of what he had read. If there were some way to find out what bothered Don, he could determine what changes were needed, but thus far Don refused to talk with him about it.
At the next class meeting, word of the pop-quiz had passed from the earlier section. Don whispered something to the girl beside him then sat back with a sullen expression as the test papers were handed out.
Kurt watched the students struggle with the questions. Those who finished quickly had obviously prepared. He graded their papers and returned them, with permission for the students to leave. He noticed that the girl beside Don had finished, but waited for Don to complete his work. They came to the desk together. Kurt noted the name on her paper - Nancy Peterson. He smiled as he handed it back with a grade of 96. Don's paper came as a blow - 51. He managed to maintain a calm expression as he entered the grade and handed the paper back. Don's face darkened; he seemed about to speak, but spun on his heel and stalked from the room, Nancy at his side.
"Damn it to hell," he snarled once they were outside. "Did you see what he gave me?"
Nancy nodded. "It's too bad, Don. Didn't you study?"
"Yeah. It's not fair."
"I don't think Professor Lawrence would be unfair, especially to you."
"Are you kidding?" Don replied with some heat. "If you think I'm going to get a break just because he's my dad, forget it. He's twice as hard on me because of it."
"Why didn't you change to Wolf's class, then?"
"Kurt used to be such a great guy, I figured there couldn't be a better teacher."
"He is good. He's tough, but he's fair. All you have to do is keep up with the reading. It isn't that bad."
"Yeah, but I've got other classes, too, and Schoënbrun is riding me in art."
"Have you talked to Professor Lawrence about it?"
"Why should I? He doesn't care! Didn't you see that look he gave me?"
"He was very disappointed, Don."
"I'll just bet. I'd better go. He'll be waiting and I don't want to get hassled."
Once they were on the highway, Kurt glanced at Don's set expression. "What happened to you on the test?"
"Nothing! I suppose I'm the only one that flunked."
Because of Don's surly attitude, Kurt said nothing more.
At the house, Don mechanically did those things that needed attention. After they had eaten dinner, Kurt said, "I'm going to the station for a few minutes. Want to come?"
"No. I've got to study. English," he added bitterly.
"Kurt, come in." As he looked up, the chief caught the serious expression. "What's wrong?"
"It's Don, Chief. You know I'm teaching?"
"Erik told me. I think it's a great idea."
"I thought so, too, but now I'm not sure."
"Why?"
"Don's in one of my classes. Since the second meeting, he hasn't spoken to me any more than necessary. I've tried to get him to tell me what's wrong, but he won't open up. If this is going to drive a wedge between us, I want no part of it."
"I'll come over with Erik for dinner Friday and see if I can find out what's going on." He laid a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "It probably isn't as bad as you think."
"I hope. I don't think I can take it much longer."
Erik was in high spirits when he arrived with the chief, but sobered quickly after Don's rude response to a simple request. He went to help Kurt in the kitchen. When the meal was ready, the chief seated himself at the table. Don stopped in the doorway and regarded them defiantly. "I'm not hungry."
The chief's chair crashed over backward as he jumped up with amazing speed. Kurt and Erik watched in shock as he grabbed the waistband of Don's jeans and marched him roughly toward the stairs, ignoring Don's demands to be released.
He dropped Don to his bed and faced him. "What the hell's wrong with you? You're acting like a spoiled brat."
Don shrugged.
"Don't shrug at me, damn it! What's going on between you two?"
"He's unreasonable!" Don flared back. "He's giving us so much work it's impossible. I flunked the test."
"Did you deserve to?"
Don thought for a few moments, calming. "I guess. I didn't do all the reading."
"Why not?"
"There's too much to do it all at once and I've got my other classes to study for."
"Then why wouldn't you talk to Kurt about it?"
"This is college. I ought to be able to make it on my own, but I can't."
"So you make problems for him, instead."
"Like what?"
"Remember when you had that wreck with his Jeep? You thought you had hurt him then, but that's nothing compared to what you're doing to him now."
Don looked up at the chief, surprise written across his face.
"I mean it. He's as new at teaching as you are to college, so he was lookin' fer you to let him know how he was a-doin', but you won't even talk over your problems in his class with 'im. This time you've really torn it, boy." The chief shook his head sadly. "I wouldn't never believed that you didn't give a damn about him after all he's done fer you."
"I do."
"It looks to me like you don't care about Kurt or anythin' else just so long as you git a good grade."
"It isn't like that."
"Then what? There ain't nothing comes easy in this life, as I thought you'd already learned. If you were half the man I gave you credit for, you'd be thankin' God everyday that Kurt loves you enough to make you his son and you'd be helpin' 'im, now that you can really do somethin' fer him that he can't do fer himself."
Don raised a tormented face. "I didn't know it was like that."
"Then you'd better be talkin' to 'im. He was sure some upset when he talked to me last night."
"He talked to you about me?"
"Why do you think he's spent so much time at the station the past couple o' nights? He's a-goin' to quit teaching soon as he can because he don't want to lose you. He loves you that much."
Don ran from the room.
After Erik and the chief had gone back to the station, Don talked for over an hour, Kurt listening intently. The rest of the weekend he thought carefully about what Don told him of the students' attitudes toward the class. Most of Don's own problems had come from a failure to organize his time and resentment at hearing others criticize Kurt.
There was a smile between them as Kurt called the roll on Monday and announced changes. When he turned from gathering his lecture notes, Don stood by the desk, holding the girl's hand. "I guess you know Nancy."
Kurt smiled. "I hope I do by this time."
"You're a great teacher, sir."
"Thank you. I hope you can teach Don something."
"Oh, no, sir, he's helping me. I love to read, but Don's marvelous at explaining symbols."
"See you in the parking lot, Kurt." Don pulled Nancy toward the door.
Kurt paused reflectively inside his office feeling relief flood over him.