The Halls of Academe Ch. 03

"Who else could it be?"

I shook my head. "I've never had any contact with Nathan Lewis. I've certainly never told him about my private life. There's no way he could have found out about us."

Something in Drew's expression caught my eye. "What? What's wrong?"

He sat down on the battered couch in my office, not looking at me.

"Glenn, Nathan knows about us."

"How?"

"I--I guess I told him."

"You what?" It took a moment to comprehend what Drew had just said. Anger and disbelief hit me all at once. "I thought you said you'd never had any personal contact with him."

Drew looked off into space as he started to speak.

"It was a couple of weeks ago. Lately Nathan's been struggling. Been absent a lot. Failed the last essay exam I gave."

"If I were harassing a professor with false accusations I'd feel bad about it too."

"Then out of the blue I get an e-mail from him. Wanted to see me about the test. I said sure--what else could I do?

"He comes to my office, sits down and starts talking. Says he'd been under a lot of stress about his personal life, et cetera. I thought maybe he was going to ask me for a makeup, or to give him an "A", in exchange for dropping the sexual harassment charge.

"All of a sudden he looks at me and says, 'I'm gay. And I'm in love with you.'"

Despite myself I was becoming engrossed in Drew's story. "My god. So he did write those notes."

Drew nodded. "Nothing like that ever happened to me before. I didn't know what to do. Then he started to cry. I don't think he was faking it, Glenn. He was really upset. I went over to him. Before I knew it his arms were around me. He was holding on to me like a drowning man. I hugged him back, I admit it. But I swear to you, nothing else happened."

"But I don't understand. How did he find out about us?"

Drew shifted uncomfortably, raising his hands in a tense gesture. "Well--I told him that I knew what he was going through. But that didn't mean I was in love with him or that we could ever have a relationship.

"He looked at me and said, you have someone already, don't you? I didn't see any reason not to tell him the truth so I said yes. He didn't miss a beat, he said, it's Dr. Reynolds, isn't it? I was so shocked, I couldn't say anything. He must have figured out he was right from my reaction."

"Jesus." This was getting worse and worse. "How did he know?"

Drew went on as if he hadn't heard. "I tried to change the subject, told him he needed to talk to Counseling Services, maybe join the gay students' organization here on campus. He said he couldn't do that, his father would find out. Figures that he's not out to Elden."

He looked stricken. "I thought he was all right with everything when he left. I really thought I had convinced him to stop all this nonsense. Now this. I can't believe it."

He struck himself on the forehead. "What the fuck are we going to do, Glenn? How can we show our faces around here after what's happened?"

I spoke with a confidence I didn't really feel. "The more normal we act the sooner people are going to forget this. Not that many people saw the signs anyway."

Drew refused to be encouraged. "It'll be all around campus by lunch time."

"So what? We've done nothing wrong. Being gay isn't illegal anymore."

"Easy for you to say. You're tenured. You'll still have a job after this year."

I gripped his shoulder. "And so will you. I'm going to talk to Jon as soon as I can get in his office today. Better he hear it from us first. Oh, god." I had looked at my desk clock. "I can't believe I have to teach now."

I gathered my materials and forced myself down the hall to the classroom. Once I got started it was okay, though I had my moments. I was sure every whispering pair of students in the back of the room was talking about how the gay professor just got outed. I imagined sympathy in the eyes of others who I knew liked me.

Bad news travels fast. My heart sank when I entered the Provost's office that afternoon and saw the grave expression on Jon's face.

"All I can say, Jon, is that we've done nothing to warrant this kind of treatment."

"Hate speech and harassment have no place on this campus, I agree." Jon shook his head. "Still, I think Drew was unwise to volunteer so much personal information to a student. Or touch him in a manner that suggested any sort of physical attraction, especially when the student had already accused him of harassment."

"He was only trying to help." My fist pounded the arm of the chair I was sitting in. "What kind of world is it when we can't even comfort a student in distress?"

He raised his brow. "In this case it seems to have had the opposite effect." Jon seemed to realize how harsh his words sounded. He reached across the conference table and touched my arm. "I know this is frustrating, Glenn. But other than ask the campus police to investigate there's not much we can do in the short term.

"At Drew's hearing we can certainly ask Nathan about this other incident, if the evidence implicates him. If it turns out he put up those signs, there are severe penalties for that kind of behavior, even if his own charges are upheld. That's the best we can do for now."

More bad news was in store when I got back to my office. Marcia Hannon was waiting to see me.

"I heard about what happened to you all," she said. "That sucks. I can't believe any of our students would do a thing like that."

"Well, one--or maybe more than one--did."

"Listen, Glenn, I hate to bring this up, but first-year faculty evaluations are due soon. I'm going to have to mention this sexual harassment thing."

I was stunned. "How did you know about that?"

Marcia sighed. "I know I'm not supposed to know. Jon Evans probably figured since I'm doing Drew's evaluation, I needed all the information."

"He told you?"

She nodded. "It does speak to Drew's effectiveness as a teacher."

"I fucking can't believe it." Had the whole world turned against us?

"Glenn, forgive me, but you might not be seeing this with a totally objective eye."

I began to get mad. "Marcia, just because I'm fucking Drew doesn't mean I can't see when someone's about to get smeared."

She was offended. "I'm not going to smear him. And there's no need to be crude about it."

"Have the charges against him been proven?"

"Well, no."

"When the Provost has the hearing and Drew's found guilty of sexual harassment, then you can put that in his eval. IF he's found guilty."

"But what if it doesn't take place until after the evaluation's due?"

I had to end this before I lost my temper. "Jon Evans, of all people, should understand why an evaluation might be late in a situation like this. Marsh, I can't stop you from writing anything you want, but promise me--as a friend--you'll hold off until I've talked to him. Please."

She looked unconvinced, but said, "Okay."

Fifteen minutes later I was in my car, headed out of campus. I had to get out of what had become an alien and hostile place. I was furious at Jon, and I didn't even want to see Drew. Had I ruined my career--and his--for nothing more than a workplace fling? Voices were starting to whisper in my head and I didn't like it.

I drove southward toward the city. It was a gorgeous spring day, an ironic contrast to the turmoil I was feeling inside. I don't recall consciously deciding where to go, but in a short while I found myself pulling into the dirt parking lot of a small city park. It was a greenbelt surrounding a creek that somehow still ran mostly clear and sparkling through what had recently been a rural region north of the city.

On this weekday afternoon there were only one or two cars in the parking lot. Though I'd come here to be by myself, I still felt an unexplainable disappointment. I got out and headed up the trail running alongside the creek.

It was a long walk that soon became taxing, as the woods thickened and the smooth dirt path narrowed and clambered over rocky ridges that began to rise from the ground. After a while I was puffing with exertion. Sweat dripped down my brow and soaked the back of my dress shirt.

I was so engrossed in keeping my footing on the bumpy trail I didn't notice the man coming toward me until I almost ran into him.

"Oh, sorry," I said, startled.

"No problem," he replied. He was better dressed for the trail than I was, in faded jeans, work boots and a battered T-shirt. His blue eyes were vivid in his tanned, weather-beaten face, his chin grizzled with gray stubble, the same color as his untidy hair. He grinned, showing a gap where he had lost several front teeth. Otherwise he might have been good-looking.

He didn't move to let me pass, and a faint uneasiness rose in me. To cover it I said a bit too loudly, "Good day for a hike."

He nodded, still with that grin on his face, his eyes not leaving my face. I stepped past him on the narrow trail, brushing against his body, catching a whiff of his strong, unwashed scent, sweat mingled with stale tobacco and alcohol.

I began to walk fast, stumbling a bit on the uneven terrain, conscious that no one else was in sight and hoping the stranger wasn't following me. I'd gone only a short way when I couldn't stand the suspense and stopped, forcing myself to turn and look back.

The man was still standing in the same spot. His back was turned, and he was looking over his shoulder at me. He caught my eye, and his body shifted.

One rough hand went to the crotch of his jeans.

I stood as if rooted to the ground, my pulse pounding in my ears. In a flash I knew why I had come to this place.

The man's hand moved, caressing himself. He nodded, flashing his gap-toothed grin again.

My feet moved of their own accord, back down the path toward him. As I approached he left the path and walked into the woods, away from the creek.

When I got to the spot where he had disappeared there was a faint side trail winding between the trees, through the tangled undergrowth. I saw his retreating form some distance away. Without conscious thought I struck out after him. My breathing was fast and shallow, my mouth dry, my cock hard and painful against the front of my pants.

By a tall tree he turned, facing me, and dropped to his knees. His mouth opened. His tongue shot out in a lewd, unmistakable signal.

I reached him, panting. His hand stroked my bulge.

"Want some head?"

I nodded, fumbling with my zipper. My hands were shaking and it took a minute, but at last I stood, exposed in the woods, totally at this stranger's mercy. What if he were a psycho? I saw the gleaming lust in his eyes and discarded the thought.

"Nice cock, man."

Strong hands grabbed my ass. Hot, wet, silky pleasure engulfed my erection. I gasped, turning my unseeing eyes up to the sky. I grabbed his shoulders, running a hand through his greasy hair.

The stranger sucked me with abandon, sliding back and forth on my rod, spit dripping out of the corners of his mouth and onto the dirt beneath in long, viscous strings. The obscene slurping noises he was making turned me on even further. I felt the climax rise up in me and pulled back, not wanting to end it yet.

"What's the matter, buddy?" he asked.

"Uh...I don't want to cum in your mouth."

He shook his head, his missing front teeth making his grin maniacal. "You got to. Love to swallow. Let me taste it."

A groan escaped me as he flicked his tongue rapidly over the sensitive head. He chuckled before engulfing me again down to the root, burying his nose in my pubes. There was no holding back. My hips began to thrust of their own accord and in a few seconds my aching balls emptied, delivering blasts of hot liquid through my exploding organ into his eager mouth. I heard my cocksucker choking and gulping. My knees buckled and my body jackknifed as I fought to keep from collapsing, ragged gasps emerging from my mouth, almost choking myself trying to keep quiet.

Finally I regained control. My cock was painful in the aftermath of orgasm and the feel of the stranger's mouth was unbearable. Panting, I pulled out, still dribbling. A shudder went through me as his tongue claimed one of the drops.

The man stroked my leg. "Thanks, buddy," he said, his voice hoarse, his eyes watery. "Tasted great."

Guilt and panic struck at the same time. What the hell was I doing out here? I stuffed myself back in and zipped up as fast as I could, trying not to look at the stains on my pants.

"Got to go," I said to the unknown man, then turned tail and ran back down the trail, thinking only of getting away. I stumbled over the rocks, almost falling a couple of times, but didn't stop until I was back in my car. Sweat poured off of me as I backed up and headed onto the paved road that led out of the park.

Back home I stripped, threw my clothes in the wash and jumped in the shower, trying to wash away all trace of what I'd done. It wasn't until gallons of hot water and soap had coursed over my body that I began to feel better. The tight knot that had been in my stomach all day gradually disappeared and numbness and exhaustion took its place.

I got out, dried myself, switched off the phone in my bedroom and got under the covers.

Much later I awoke. It took me a moment in my groggy state to realize what I'd heard. Far away there was a heavy thudding. Someone was pounding on my front door

"Glenn? Are you in there?" It was Drew's voice.

My eyes went to the bedside clock, glowing in the now dark room. It was quarter to eight. I'd slept for nearly four hours.

"Oh, shit." I struggled out of bed, my limbs still leaden with fatigue, my head pounding. I heard Drew hit the wood again and called, "Coming!" as I finally found a pair of boxers.

"Jesus Christ," Drew said. No sooner had I got the door open than he had swarmed in and gathered me into his arms. "Where the hell have you been? I was so worried."

"Asleep."

"I waited in your office for ages. Thought you had just stepped out."

"In my office?"

"Yeah." His eyes searched my face. "Your door was wide open when I came by around three."

I shook my head. "I must have forgotten to shut it. Guess I was kind of out of it."

"After I'd waited half an hour I got worried. No one had seen you since lunch. Your car wasn't in the parking lot, and I couldn't get you on your cell phone."

"Sorry. I just needed to get away."

"I don't blame you. It's been an awful day, hasn't it?" Drew said, as he walked me to the living room couch.

"You don't know the half of it." Guilt was stirring in me. "I tried to do some damage control, but it's like shoveling quicksand."

"You know, the students were great. A couple of them even came up after my afternoon seminar and said what a rotten thing they thought had happened to me." His face darkened. "I hope I can control myself when I see that asshole tomorrow in World History. Fuck this nurturing shit. I'd like to punch his smug little face in."

"Don't let on that you're upset. Besides, we still don't know for sure he had anything to do with this."

"I suppose you're right. Anyway, I wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction." Drew got up from the couch. "You must be hungry. What did you do this afternoon? Not sleep for eight hours, I hope."

"I--" The lie I was about to utter stuck in my throat. "I did a fucking dumb thing."

Drew smiled. "Naw--not you. What?"

There was no good way to say it so I didn't even try. When I finished my two-sentence report there was silence. I stared at the floor.

"Well," Drew said.

Words came from me in a rush. "Back when I first moved here, after I'd gotten kicked out of that school in Oklahoma, I was so lost. I went cruising in that park all the time. It was a way to numb the pain, Drew--like drinking or dope. Today I caved in under the pressure. Fell off the wagon. It's the only way I can explain it." Desperation made my voice harsh. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

He said nothing.

"Don't you believe me?"

He shrugged. "Yeah."

Then he walked away from me, toward the door. In that instant I felt the chill of despair. I had lost him again, and had only myself to blame.

"Drew!"

He turned, his eyes somber. "I'll have to think about this a while. Alone. I'll see you around school, okay?"

The thud of the front door closing was like a falling guillotine.

TO BE CONTINUED