Natural Selection

It was due to be handed in no later than 5:00 pm on Friday. Vance had spent an inordinate amount of time putting the finishing touches on his work and since he'd made plans to go to a movie with Abby Friday afternoon, he decided to turn in his project a day early to ensure the deadline would not be missed.

During the Friday movie, an annoying man was disturbing the experience for everyone. He started at the front and was systematically working his way towards the back, even shining a flashlight at times up and down the aisle. Needless to say, he was verbally accosted by many at the venue. Vance and Abby were just as annoyed when a flashlight was shined in his face.

"Vance. Vance! Come with me, right now!" The unidentified man conveyed in an urgent hushed tone. "It's important!"

Puzzled, Vance rose from his seat to find out why on earth he would be sought out while on a date with his beloved. Abby followed closely until the three had exited the theater having made their way to the lobby. Vance recognized the young man but he couldn't put a name to the face.

"Who are you and what do you want?" Vance asked in frustration. "And what's so important it couldn't wait?"

"You're a hard man to find Vance. Luckily if we hurry, we still have time."

"Time for what?" He queried.

"Time to hand in your Statistical Analysis Project. You can't miss handing it in on time. It counts as twenty-five percent of your grade!"

"I know that. That's why I handed it in yesterday you dummy. You pulled us out of the theater for nothing!" he seethed.

"Listen Vance. My name's Andrew Patterson. I'm a graduate student working on my Master's and a part-time TA working for Professor Gunther. As you know, the three books used for his course aren't available through the bookstore, and most of the students had returned theirs to his office to be checked and credited back to their account, minus the rental fee. I was sitting yesterday at a desk in the far corner of his office behind huge piles of those books, checking them for suitability for use for next year."

"Yeah, so? What does that have to do with me?" Vance asked impatiently.

"Everything!" Blurted the young man. "I was there yesterday afternoon when you came in to turn in your project early. I was surprised because most everyone waits and turns in theirs at the last minute. Apparently Professor Gunther either forgot that I was there or didn't see me sitting behind those piles of books. I saw you come in, hand him your project, and leave."

"Yeah, that's right" added Vance.

"Man, you'll never believe what happened AFTER you left. Professor Gunther stood there for a minute thumbing through your project with a smile on his face. Then he looked all around the room as if he was checking to see if anyone else was there. I stayed quiet as a mouse to see what he was up to. I figured he was going to meet a female undergrad in a tryst to get a better grade on her project. But it was worse, way worse than that."

Andrew continued, "Gunther walked to the door and looked up and down the hall both ways and when it was apparent that no one else was around, he walked back near his desk, stopped at the trash can and dropped your project in the trash and said to himself, "Whoops. I don't have a clue why you didn't get your project to me on time Mr. Rayle. You know how particular I am about such things. Unfortunately this zero will pull your grade down significantly. You'll still pass the course however and graduate, so don't fret Mr. Rayle."

Vance's eyes grew as big as saucers. "In the TRASH!? He threw my work in the trash? But why?"

"I don't have a clue, man. It shocked the shit out of me to witness that. Have you had some kind of serious argument or anything like that with Professor Gunther?"

"No, never. As a matter of fact, he was one of the one's I thought I was fairly close to. I don't get it." Then an idea struck him. He wondered if it had something to do with the blonde-headed bitch. Her obvious animosity toward him floated her to the top of the list of suspects.

"Well, for whatever reason, he has it in for you. If your project doesn't get turned in, it will seriously affect your grade and I just couldn't stand by and let something like that befall one of my friends."

"Please tell me you took my work out of the trash and put it back on his desk." Vance urgently stated.

"I thought about doing that, but then it occurred to me that it wouldn't change a thing. He'd just toss it later when he came across it and the result would be the same." Added Andrew.

"I'm FUCKED! All this hard work, killing myself, frying my brain until three in the morning nearly every day and all for nothing!" Cried Vance.

"It's not over 'til it's over man. If we hurry, we can just make it in time for you to still hand it in on time and receive full credit for your work."

"But like you said, if he has it in for me, he could just toss it later and still damage my grade."

Andrew injected, "Not if there were witnesses. If the three of us run over to his office right now and watch as you hand in your project and witness him receiving it and make some kind of comment about it, then he will have no choice but to accept it and grade it accordingly. He can't deny receiving it with two witnesses observing, especially if one of them is his own TA."

"That might would have worked, but you said he had already thrown it in the trash. My project work is probably long gone by now." Vance sadly realized.

Andrew pulled a big packet from behind his back and said, "You mean THIS project?"

Vance grabbed it from him and thumbed it through making sure it was all there. "Yes! This is it!"

"Vance, if we hurry, we can just make it before five o'clock, the deadline for getting it in on time."

Vance grabbed Abby's hand and took off running. "What are you waiting for Andrew? Let's go!"

The three of them made it with three minutes to spare. They stood outside Professor Gunther's office for a moment to catch their breath before casually walking in.

Vance handed Professor Gunther his project in front of Abby and Andrew. "Here's my project work professor. Looks like I just barely made it in time."

Abby chimed in, "After all the hard work I know that you put into that project honey, it would have been terrible for your grades if you hadn't delivered it on time."

Andrew patted Vance on the shoulder and added, "Good job. I'm sure Professor Gunther is looking forward to reviewing your work. Isn't that right, professor?"

Gunther, with a stunned expression on his face looked over the faces of the three facing him. He clearly knew that Vance had already handed in his project yesterday, yet here he was handing it in again today, and with two eye-witnesses in tow. He was ashamed of his actions and was keenly aware that they knew of his treachery. Worse than the shame of students' awareness of his perfidy, he would have to return the ten thousand dollar bribe he had accepted to carry out this plot against the hardest working student he had ever met. He was puzzled as to how Vance came to learn of his plight. In acknowledgement, he simply nodded to Vance and thanked him for getting it in on time, assuring him that he was looking forward to his insights.

When the three stepped back out into the hallway, Vance turned to Andrew, "I owe you my life man. You have no idea how close my life had come to devastation. If you hadn't intervened and helped me, my life as I had planned it would be over. Words are inadequate to express my gratitude, but from the heart, thanks man."

"Think nothing of it. I'm just sorry it took me this long to track you down. You're sort of a legend around here, the hardest working student I have ever heard of. It would be a crying shame for your record to be tarnished by some kind of grudge by a professor."

"How do you know me and why would you go to so much trouble for another student you've never met before?"

"Ahhhh, I see what you're asking now. Apparently you don't remember me, but I did what I did for two reasons. Three years ago, I was having a tough time in advanced calculus. I managed to get in a study group two weeks before the final exam. You were in that group. If you hadn't shed some light on how to work some of the formulas I found incomprehensible at the time, I would have flunked out and either had to repeat the class, or not be here at all."

He continued, "Secondly, and equally important to me, I'm also Sigma Chi -- ΣΧ, your fraternity brother. I've seen you take the shit jobs setting up and cleaning up so people like me can party-hardy. I'm your brother for life, man, and I couldn't just stand by and do nothing when my brother could be hurt by my inaction. I asked every brother I could find to spread the word to find out where you were. There must have been over two hundred phone calls made on your behalf, but we tracked you down. You had casually mentioned to Stephen that you were going to watch an oldie, 'Casablanca' this afternoon, and that's where I found you."

Vance eagerly shook his brother's hand, "And am I ever glad that you did. You have no idea. Thank you again!" In a flash, Vance realized the immense value of his association with the Sigma Chi fraternity. Suddenly his awareness that it took more than hard work to succeed struck him like a thunderbolt. There was an innate wisdom to the path he was following in the footsteps of his predecessor-benefactor.

Chapter 5

On Sunday, June ninth a beautiful sunny day greeted the thousands in attendance at the outdoor graduation ceremony at Harvard University. Both sets of parents were sitting together having finally met for the first time since their children became engaged, to watch them both walk across the stage to receive their diplomas. Abby received her bachelor of arts in Accounting and Vance received both a simultaneous Bachelor's and Master's Degree in Business Economics and Finance. His achievement was met with thunderous applause from the entire crowd and was called out as a special accomplishment by the Dean. Vance was humbled by the jubilant reception of the culmination of all of his hard work.

The wedding was set to take place in two weeks in Columbus, Ohio. The three couples celebrated the milestones that were openly acknowledged that day. To say that both sets of parents were proud of their children would be the understatement of the year. The next morning, Abby was returning home with her parents to complete last minute preparations for the upcoming nuptials and wouldn't see her beloved for two weeks. They shared a tender but ardent kiss before parting.

As he drove with his parents on the long drive back home to Greensboro, they caught him up on all the happenings since he'd last been home. He had only returned home during Christmas break each year because his summers were always filled with classes.

When they stopped for lunch about half way back, his mother handed him a letter, addressed to him. "This came for you two days before we left. I figured you might not want to wait until we were home before opening it."

Vance eagerly received the envelope from his mother and quickly tore it open.

Congratulations on your graduation and accomplishments. My information indicates that you will be heading home on Monday, June 10th. I will be at the same hotel of our previous encounters on Tuesday June 11th, conference room three at precisely 2:00 pm. Don't be late.

Your benefactor's representative.

Vance showed the letter to his father and mother. "Well, I hope you don't have any plans for me tomorrow afternoon. Apparently all they need to do is snap their fingers and they expect me to jump."

"Honey, you must admit that they have invested an extravagant sum of money into your education and that fact alone should earn them access to you on their timetable. Why do you seem so antagonistic about meeting up with them?" His mother asked.

"Mom, it's not that I have anything whatsoever against my sponsor or the company I hope to be working for shortly. I am appreciative as hell for everything they've done for me. What bothers me the most is that....that she-devil of a woman that I have met with every time so far, and judging by the tone of that letter, I'm sure I'll be the target of her cynicism once again."

"Are you suggesting that your benefactor has a grudge of some kind against you?" Asked his dad.

"I didn't want to say anything before, you know, not wanting to talk bad about the ones who were providing for my education. But there is more to this woman than you know." He brought them up to speed on the caustic interactions between him and the blonde-headed bitch. He also recounted the story of the mystifying incident with Professor Gunther. He recounted her telling him that his pursuit of the Master's Degree and job prospect would be at his peril and that he would with certainty, fail. In his opinion, she had to be behind the attempted sabotage of his career.

His mother offered him her advice, "I know that you have reason to believe that she might be behind some nefarious plot against you, and you may very well be right. However, if there's one thing I learned from your father and he has drilled it into your head as well is this: Be sure that you know that you know that you know that you know. Before making any decisions or acting on impulse, can you say that you have hard evidence to support your assertions?"

Vance just looked down at the floor because he knew she was right.

"And another thing" she continued, "Isn't she the one who, despite her delivery, made it possible for you to achieve your miraculous accomplishments? Wouldn't it have been much easier for her to have simply not given you the chance at all? Perhaps she does have some unknown axe to grind with you and maybe one day you'll find out exactly what it is. But until then, keep your cards close to your chest. Ignore her antagonism and her verbal barbs. Perhaps that's her way of testing your character. Like your dad and I have told you hundreds of times, always remember who you are and who you represent. You have never given us reason not to be proud of you and I'm sure you won't stop now."

"You're right mom. Sometimes I lose sight of that. I'm a Rayle through and through and proud of it, proud of my lineage, proud of my extended family, and proud of my parents. Thanks for keeping me grounded. I know where I came from and I hope to never forget who I am. I'll meet with that 'devil' woman tomorrow and rise above her pettiness."

He arrived in the parking lot at 1:45 and sat out in the car taking deep breaths and trying to park his mind in a control zone. He was so close to completing all of the challenges placed in his path and he wasn't about to let anything or anyone stand in his way, not even the blonde-headed bitch. He walked into conference room three at 1:55 pm. And without a word, proudly walked to the only chair meant for him and took a seat, noticing that she, once again, did not rise to meet him nor offer him her hand, which he already expected. But he noted that she was still as deceptively lovely as he remembered her.

"Well, I suppose you're about to gloat and say 'I told you so' aren't you? When last we met, didn't you say you'd make me eat my words?" Declared his nemesis.

Vance elicited a smile but otherwise sat there mute. He was in his happy place.

"What's this? Cat got your tongue? Well, no matter. I've already sent you congratulations in writing, so I'll not waste my breath repeating myself except to say that you surprised me. When we first met, you were an unruly fourteen year old with a big chip on your shoulder. Now you are a twenty-two year old graduate who has never held a single job in his life."

He blinked his eyes closed and back open very slowly, looking straight into her eyes, but still remained silent.

"Your benefactor has instructed me to give you a graduation gift." She opened her large purse and removed a six inch by six inch square gift box, expensively wrapped. She carefully placed it upon the table and slid it over to him. "Open it. This meeting can't proceed until you do."

He finally broke his lock on her eyes and took in the small package. Without a clue as to what it could be, he picked it up to unwrap in in front of her. He was shocked at the weight of it. He wondered if she wrapped a solid block of lead for him; it was that heavy. When he finally had it open, he found inside what looked like to be a chrome plated ashtray. He picked it up, and examined it for any inscriptions, finding none.

Then he tossed it roughly back on the table. "Leave it to you to get me something useless. I don't even smoke."

She closed her eyes, tilted her head forward slightly, and slowly shook her head back and forth and barely whispered to no one, "Just what is it that you think I'm supposed to see in this idiot?"

"Oh, so I'm an idiot now simply because I don't smoke? It that it?"

"No. You're an idiot because of your shortsightedness, even after your upper echelon education. Basically, you're still that same smug fourteen year old boy who met me here eight years ago."

"What are you talking about? What shortsightedness? Just because I didn't ooooooh and ahhhh over some cheap chrome ashtray?"

"No. Because I have one just like it and although I don't smoke either, it is one of my most treasured possessions. It was given to me by your benefactor when I graduated from Harvard and he wanted you to receive no less than me." She said, tearing up. It was the first sign of any emotion from her other than unspecified anger at him. Apparently her ashtray meant a lot to her, though it made no sense to him.

"Look, I don't mean to disparage a gift, any gift. Tell my sponsor that I appreciate it very much. Quite honestly I thought that you had picked it up for me just to insult me yet again. I apologize for my preconceived notions." He said apologetically.

"Maybe, just maybe there's some hope for you after all. I didn't pick it out for you, your benefactor did, as I said. I was instructed to have one made for you identical to mine so that our graduation presents would be equal. Personally I don't believe you deserve such a wonderful gift, but I am obligated to represent your benefactor's wishes to the letter."

"Please forgive my ignorance, but can you tell me what's so wonderful or special about this ashtray? Looks pretty common to me." He gestured.

"Okay, I'll tell you what my ..... my benefactor told me when I was given mine; perhaps that will clear the mystery up for you."

"Go on" he invited.

"A number of years ago, I was where you are right now. No, I didn't have quite the accomplishments and accolades you received at Harvard. But I was just as dismayed to receive such a lowly gift honoring my college graduation, until he explained it. I don't recall his exact words, but perhaps I can remember enough to give you the gist of it. This ashtray is a metaphorical representation of you. People see it and believe that it is a lowly ashtray, and like you just now expressed, holds no real value except to collect the ashes, cigarette butts, wads of trash, chewing gum, spit and anything else people abuse an ashtray for."

She continued, "Most people whose paths you cross will simply view you as having little to no value, just like that ashtray. They believe your purpose is a lowly one because they don't know the real you, who you are inside. They just look at you on the surface, as you just exhibited moments ago. But it's not JUST an ashtray you young ignorant....." She suddenly stopped, as if a realization had just occurred to her.

"That ashtray weighs exactly eighty ounces, -five pounds. It has a very thin layer of chrome plating on the outside concealing what is hidden underneath. I'm sure you're wondering what's underneath right now....lead? Steel? Iron? You would be wrong on all counts. What's underneath the inexpensive chrome exterior Mr. Rayle is gold. Twenty-four carat .999 pure gold. And in today's market, that gold costs two thousand dollars an ounce. Two grand per ounce times eighty ounces comes to $160,000.00 Mr. Rayle. Why gold you ask? I wondered the same thing when engaging my benefactor. He said that people see what they want to see when they look at you and size you up. But it's what's underneath your exterior that really counts. What's underneath is your character, your integrity, your honesty, your loyalty, your drive and determination to improve yourself so you can help others. More simply put Mr. Rayle, my benefactor told me that reputation is what other people THINK of you; character is what you ARE."