“When you leave here tonight,” she continued, “If you don’t stop at the shelter on the way, you’ll go home to a cold house. Gladys will avoid any contact with you, your children will ignore you, and you will sleep alone in your den again.”
The emotionlessly clinical way she said it, as if she knew it all as cold, hard fact, infuriated him. But more than that, she was absolutely right, and there was only one way she could know any of it.
“You ARE spying on me!” he angrily shouted at her, changing his mind about throwing her out. Before he could take a step, though, she calmly continued.
“In a week’s time, your student, Sonja, will feel like the right decision,” she said, making him stop in his tracks. Something in her tone, or maybe it was the subject matter, made him listen. “She will initiate it, but in a way that makes you believe it was your idea. It will be the most you have felt in a long time, but not the best, and you will tell her afterward that it cannot continue.”
He peered at her, mesmerized. She spoke with a certainty that made him believe it had already happened just the way she described, and for a moment, he actually looked forward to the encounter. What would it hurt anyone to have a little fling? Gladys wouldn’t care! Neither would his kids! And he would have his own sweet little secret to carry him through the long days ahead of him. He couldn’t help a little smile.
“You don’t think it’ll hurt anyone,” she told him, making his eyes widen incredulously as her words mirrored his thoughts. “You don’t tell Gladys or anyone else, and keep it your little secret. And you assume that it’s over, until Sonja visits you again. Then, it is another visit, and another, until you need to find someplace off campus so no one will suspect you.”
His eyes narrowed at her; he would never do that to Gladys! But before he could tell the girl that, she said, “But Gladys does suspect you. She tries to tell herself that you would never do anything like that to her, no matter what problems you two are having, but she still wonders, and her suspicions fester deep inside, getting worse every time you cheat on her. You suspect that she knows, so you make excuses for your absences and late hours, but that only makes her even more suspicious. And when you start missing important family events, even your son’s big game, for a ‘late night of grading papers’, she knows for certain that you are cheating on her.
“The final straw comes when Sonja asks you to leave Gladys,” the girl said without passion. “She will claim to be pregnant and hold you to do ‘the right thing’, as she defines it. When you panic and refuse, and even consider repenting and confessing to Gladys, she threatens you, and you call it off with her in a huff. But she follows through on the threat, and even goes to your home to tell your wife everything. From that moment onward, your life is ruined.”
Professor Gloupe stepped forward, anxious to oust the girl and her precognition of his life out of his office for good. He didn’t want to hear anymore nonsense, but he froze at her next words; unaffected by his threatening stance, she said, “Enraged, Gladys leaves you for good. Your children, angry that you chose your affair over them and their mother, go with her, and you never see them again. The campus, informed of the affair by Gladys, herself, fires you and brings charges of ethical misconduct against you that guarantees you do not work at any other university or college ever again. Sonja visits you just once at the shabby apartment you finally end up in just to gloat over your downfall. She won’t be pregnant, I want you to know. She never wanted to have your baby in the first place; all she’ll be after will be the expensive presents you buy her, thinking that’s what love is all about. You will turn to alcohol to comfort you, and you will die in that apartment of severe liver damage that you will allow to fester because you cannot afford to get it treated.”
He stared at her for a while, feeling a little sick. The picture she painted felt so familiar, so real, as if it perfectly suited the direction his life was heading. Then, his inner cynic took hold, and he scoffed, “All that just because I didn’t adopt a kitten?”
She regarded him clinically, even cocking her head as she studied him. Then, she said, “Would you listen to another story?”
“Go ahead,” the inner cynic replied for him, and the girl immediately launched into another narrative.
“Tonight,” she told him, “When you go home, when you pass the shelter, you will notice it is still open. Needing to clear your head, you decide to step inside and see if you can distract yourself for a little while. Maybe you can forget your problems for a while, and maybe not, but you decide to take the chance. After all, you have nothing to lose.
“There, in one of the cages, laying all alone,” she added, “Is a lone kitten. She’s smaller than any kitten you’ve ever seen. She seems skinny and her fur is a little matted, and she’s missing one eye. She lays there looking so forelorn that you are drawn to her. She seems to be sharing your luck, lately. You take pity on her and ask the attendant about her, and you learn she’s a runt, but a fighter, and won’t let anyone handle her, and that’s why she looks like she desperately needs grooming. For some reason, you ask if you can try, and the attendant hands you a brush.
“You bend close to the cage and speak softly to her, but she doesn’t respond. No matter what tone you use or what promises you make, the kitten doesn’t respond the way you want. You’re about to get angry at the poor thing when you see, really see, how sad she is, and it reminds you of your own sadness. So, you sit next ot her, and you sympathize, and you tell it your own story, and ask it hers. You read the card on her cage, and you know she’s had a hard beginning at life. You open her cage and invite her to come out, if she wants. And, to your amazement, she does, and she curls up on your lap. And, while she’s there, you brush her, and eventually, she purrs. You make special arrangements with the attendant, and you take her home.
“Gladys is against the kitten, telling you it is the last thing they need in your house. But your children love it, and they want to play with it, but you notice how scared it is and you gently, for the kitten’s sake, tell them that they will have to wait until the kitten is more used to them before they can play with her. You do not see it, but Gladys notices the change in you already. You have taken the first step in controlling your temper.
“You and Gladys argue over the kitten after the children go to sleep, but it doesn’t have the usual fury. And, for once, Gladys gives in, leaving you confused and wondering how you won.
“Days pass, then weeks. You and the kitten are almost inseperable. You name her, and she comes when you call. You find an excuse in her to come home right away from the office to feed her and to play with her, and she becomes the topic of conversations with your wife and children that you hadn’t had in a very long time. You rediscover Gladys’ smile, and that twinkle her eyes, and you find more things to talk about. Any thought of Sonja or the prospect of an affair is pushed out of your mind by more important things, like grocery shopping together and gardening, and rediscovering everything about Gladys that made you fall in love with her in the first place. And, you discover just how interesting and funny and smart your children have somehow become, and you regret the time you missed while they were becoming such wonderful people. And, you promise yourself, and them, that you aren’t going to miss any more.”
She stopped, just like that, and regarded him calmly. The professor couldn’t believe she would leave him on a cliffhanger like that; it was almost sadistic! Leaning forward, he eagerly demanded, “Well? What happens next?”
“That’s for you to decide,” she told him. Then, inexplicably, she turned to go.
This time, he leapt forward and grabbed her arm to stop her. When he realized what he’d done, he quickly let her go and stepped back, afraid he’d hurt her, but she showed no indication of pain or injury. She turned back to him, her face as placid as ever.
“Before you go,” the professor pleaded, struggling for the right words to convey the thoughts jumbled up in his head, “I have to know! Who are you? Where are you from? Why are you here? And, how do you know those things?”
She didn’t answer, but stared at him as if he should already know them. He straightened in shock and stared at her dumbfounded for a moment. Then, he put to words the new thought in his head.
“Are you a time traveler?” he gasped in awe. “Are you from the future?”
She didn’t answer, and he took that for a yes. He studied her for a while, then hopelessly asked, “Why me? Why are you visiting me?”
She still didn’t answer, and he could gleam nothing from her silence. So, he asked, “Am I so special? Am I so important that you risk changing the future by coming here?’
“Professor Gloupe,” she replied calmly. “Everyone is important to the universe. Everyone is important to someone. And, someone is important to you. Keep that in mind on your journey.”
“Journey?” the professor repeated in confusion. “What journey?”
But she only gave him a little serene smile and walked out the door. When he tore it open only an instant later, to ask her more about his future, shenwas gone, as if she had never existed.
He looked up and down the hallway for her, to no avail. Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, he went back into his office and sat behind his desk. He glanced down at the drawer, yanked it open, and pulled out the whiskey. He stared at the bottle for a moment, then went to his window and poured the contents out into the bushes outside. After that, he set the empty bottle back on the shelf as a momento before reaching for his phone.
“Yes, it’s really me, Gladys,” he chuckled into it at her incredulous question. “And, I’m really on my home right now. Yes, I know I had to stay late to look over some papers, but it didn’t take as long as I thought. The reason I’m calling is, I’m making a stop on the way and didn’t want you to worry. No, it’s a surprise, and a good one! Be home soon!
“I love you!” he added as the piece-de-resistance. And it felt so good saying it, and meaning it, after such a long time.
Tales of a Tired Daddy 