Wednesday, July 25, 2007

When I got home from Titans training, I checked my e-mail from the college. A reply to an earlier e-mail of mine was there and just said, "Just wanted to say hello."  The previous day we had gotten an e-mail about a fire drill in the building. I did not want to arrive before the drill since that would mean standing outside in the July sun getting wet from perspiration. I did want to arrive before Max left since I needed to ask him a favor I had contrived to allow the three of us some time together. I successfully timed my arrival when everyone was re-entering the building. Max was just going in. I had gotten into the habit of looking for him in the smoking area when I drove toward the garage. Since I am deathly allergic to tobacco smoke, this would have been a definite deal breaker. I never had seen him there and he never smelled of smoke. I hoped he had not seen me in my car with the broken wheel covers. I simply had not had time or money to get new ones. Even if he did drive a clunker, this was totally tacky. As I entered the atrium, I could see him with my peripheral vision just outside the library. I hoped he had seen me and would join me in the faculty work area. The first elevator that opened was one of the ones without a glass views. I would not be able to see if he was coming. While I was phoning students, I heard his voice coming from the hallway. I knew that if I were going to put my plan into motion, I would have to talk to him now. The urgency in me made me feel that I would explode. I went to the hallway and only saw goth boy. "Is Mr. Gentre still in the building?' I asked. He pulled out his cell phone and called. Max was just below us and was on his way up. I watched the elevator bank and then In the reflection of the glass door I saw Max appear behind me. How did he do that? I turned around and saw him approach me with perspiration on his forehead and moving in that jerky, geeky fashion he sometimes used. I asked Max to help me come up with some interview questions for his son. This was something I was completely capable of doing for myself from the course web site, but if Max could go out of his way to find milk for Tina, he could certainly help me find interview questions for his son. Rex had been absent the previous week and had missed his mock interview. The career advisor would not be available again during the term and I was going to have to do it. When I turned around and saw Max, he looked at me with even more appreciation than he had shown two days earlier. On that day I was wearing a figure-flattering butter yellow dress. I sat in a black office chair with napped upholstery. I went into the break room for lunch and passed Max on my way. He abruptly stopped me and began dusting something off of my back. Later in the ladies' room I noticed more of the substance on my hips. I was hoping that as he dusted, he might have noticed my muscle tone. After eating, I looked at the chair I had occupied. The substance was left from a black person grooming a short-cropped nappy hair style or from someone leaving behind hoodie fuzz. He had rescued me from mild embarrassment. His initial approving look on that day was easily surpassed by his look while we were discussing the questions. Finally he confirmed in words what his face had already experessed. "You look really pretty in that color. Your hair is so pretty today," he said. "Thank you, That's a very nice compliment," I said. He then began elaborating on some of the personal history of his son. In doing so he revealed some of the things I already knew from my online snooping. While Max was in the airforce, his ex-wife had abused his two daughters and Rex, especially Rex. She flew into violent rages that caused Rex to lock himself into his room, bracing his back against the door and keeping his feet against a dresser so that she could not open it and beat him. Max said he had bought houses for all three children and that he had lost all of them because of the divorce. She had filed a restraining order against him so that he could not be with them, claiming that he was the abuser. In all of this, the three children had developed intellectually. Rex had already told me that he built his first computer at the age of 12, and he had always seemed to have above average intelligence. I expressed this to Max. He told me he wished schools had been around that were not so restrictive. I told him about Montessori schools and that I wish I could become certified to teach at one. A telephone call interrupted our conversation. He answered with a sugary elongated hello that made me believe he was speaking with a daughter or love interest. My elation at spending so much time with him evaporated only to be revived. I said that it would probably be best if he could conduct the interview, since it was actually intended to be the responsibility of an administrator. I was contriving this just a little. He agreed. I said that because of the family ties, I should probably be present. "That would be even better," he said. He smiled more enthusiastically than I had ever seen him smile before. I promised to call or e-mail him a reminder and he complimented my hair and outfit again. In class that night, I was helping a student across the room from Rex when he asked me a question. I looked up to see Rex looking at me more intently and appreciatively than usual. I assumed he had spoken with his dad. During the break, Rex got some popcorn and offered me some. I politely refused and continued discussing the upcoming interview. During this conversation I told him about my job with the NFL and he revealed he had never seen a pro game. We talked some about his hometown college team and at some point he implied that his dad usually goes home and has very little to do after work. I wanted to tell him that I would be happy to change that, but I felt it would be best to keep my growing interest in Max a secret for at least another week. At some point I accidentally touched Rex's knee with the back of my hand and he seemed pleased. After the conversation with Max, I did not know if Rex really had a crush on me or if he saw in me the maternal qualities that had been lacking in his own mother. I at least understood why Max had been impressed with my quiet nature, and I guess it had had the same effect on Rex. I told him that I would try to score some Titans tickets for him. After reading Max's reply to my e-mail in which I thanked him for allowing me to take up so much of his time, I replied with a brief explanation of where I had been. I hoped he would be impressed that I had dined that evening during a training session in the Tennessee Titan's board room. I did not know what his bedtime schedule was like, but as late as this was, I assumed I would not get a reply until the next day. Because of the conversation the previous day, I had placed the two on my prayer list. I prayed for God to restore to Max all that had been lost as a result of his wife's lawyers taking advantage of her mental illness to soak Max financially. I prayed that God would bring Max back to the level of prosperity he had formerly known, the way he had done for Job.