Chapter 2: The University
MacGruder University was the most prestigious college in all of New England. If my Uncle Jack hadn't convinced me that college was the best first step, I would never have agreed to go. In a way, I suppose I was only pursing an education because he wanted me to. If there is one other person who cares more for me than Kim, it is definitely my Uncle Jack. Of course, I had to put up a small fight first. Kimberly and I were 18 years old by the time we finally attended college. Although I was extremely grateful that my Uncle Jack paid for not only my entrance but Kimberly's, as well, it just wasn't what I wanted to do. No matter how much I struggled in forcing myself through it, I just couldn't seem to do it with a happy attitude. The only reason I was somewhat glad about going to college was the fact that I had an absolutely incredible professor: Professor Blaten. Blaten, who was our History teacher, specialized in mythology and folklore. You know how when you're a kid you always have a favorite teacher? Well, that's how everybody felt about Professor Blaten. He was everybody's favorite teacher. He always made what we were learning so much fun. Most of the time, it was almost like we weren't even in school. Even though most of the topics he taught were quite serious, he always managed to inject them with some sort of contagious humor. The fact that our teacher wasn't so uptight made us want to work so much more diligently. All of the students (including me) wanted to make him so proud. Professor Blaten could definitely teach a thing or two to all our old, stuffy teachers back in high school.
Throughout our stay at the university, Kim and I became quite good friends with Professor Blaten. When I first met him, I fell completely head over heels in love with him, but never dreamed of telling him so. I remember the very day I first laid eyes on him. He was so incredibly handsome. He has a very soothing, yet authoritative voice and also strong and comforting hands. He is of average height for a male, about 5'10"; he has a very commanding presence and a strong athletic build. He is also a spectacularly sharp dresser; he's always wearing some sort of custom made pin stripe suit, I never understood that.
On absolutely no occasion could I tell whether he felt the same way about me as I did him, but I did know that we were both glad that we became such good friends. Most of the time, even when in the class room, we were always on a first name basis. I noticed he would usually pick me as a volunteer as often as he could and also joked and laughed, more so with me than anyone else. Professor Blaten opened up to me about things he felt uncomfortable discussing with his own family. He told me of his sister's death when he was a child, what inspired him to become a history teacher, and also his life long feud with his father (which was a highly sensitive topic for him).
On a particular Friday afternoon before our final, Professor Blaten and I sat outside on the steps of the school and discussed once more the relationship he longingly dreamed of having with his father.
"Thomas, you have to call your father. I'm sure if you do, he'll realize he needs you as much as you need him."
Thomas just looked at me with doubt, as he crossed his hands and put them between his knees.
"How can you be so sure, Liz? As far as I know, he hates me, he always has."
"Okay, firstly, that is impossible. Everyone loves you, Thomas."
Thomas just kept looking at me with disbelief. I decided that day that I couldn't simply change his mind about the matter, so I spoke a little more logically.
"Thomas, I can't promise you that if you call him everything will be fine, but I can promise that if you do call you'll finally know and won't have to keep wondering."
"Okay, Liz. Someday, someday."
"You know Thomas, someday is just a code word for never. You know that don't you?"
Before he had time to answer, he looked at his watch and saw that we were about to be late for class. He then got up off the steps, pulled me up as well, and we then both made a run for the door.
Now, once Professor Blaten had pulled out his papers and got settled in, he began writing on the chalkboard in a particularly sloppy way. It looked as if the word he spelled was "Fire." It stood alone with no other words. His back was turned to the class as he appeared to be transfixed with the word. He began tapping his piece of chalk on the board as if he was contemplating writing something to go along with fire, but then left it alone.
"Now class", he said in a questioning manner, as he now faced the entire class. "Can anyone tell me what fire is classified as? Anyone?" He asked as the entire class was silenced by his perplexing and seemingly meaningless words. "Well, is it simply an element of the universe or is it something more? Is it possible to classify fire as an enemy or an ally?"
Everyone began murmuring to each other, saying, "This isn't what we've been studying," And, "I hope there's no test on this."
I had never before seen professor Blaten teach a matter more serious than this one and not joke about it. He then acknowledged the class' bewilderment and elaborated on his confusing tirade.
"According to legend, the Forbidden Flame was said to heal any and all wounds of the natives. It was also said to shield and protect them from opposing enemies. However, if in the wrong hands, the Flame would make for the ultimate weapon, causing chaos and destruction for all, except whoever possessed the Flame."
When Professor Blaten was speaking, the class was even more silent than before. I didn't know what the class was thinking, but I knew he had to have some purpose to what he spoke, that is, I most certainly knew he wasn't crazy. To me, he seemed to actually believe what he was teaching.