AN: Okay, an extra short chapter, but I wanted to get something posted on this story. This chapter may seem a little controversial, but remember this is the fifties.
Since he dedicated one to me, I dedicate this chapter to jlbrew23 – I really like his Indy stories, and I love his Batman story.
Disclaimer: I do not own, and I'm ready to buy the movie on DVD when it comes out, like right now, please. Seriously, it's been two months since it came out and I want it now.
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"Welcome to my class," Indy sat after all the students had sat down, only a space or two empty. "This is a freshman level Archeology class. Please take out a sheet of paper and write down the requirements for this class."
All the other students began to reach down and pull out composition books and opened to the front page. Friends asked to borrow paper and pencils, and eventually everyone had supplies, except Mutt.
He started to ask the guy next to him for a paper, but the young man looked scornful at Mutt so he just sank down in his seat sullenly. He looked up at Indy with a disgruntled expression, half-surly, half-defiant.
"I am Professor Jones," Indy wrote his name on the board. "I will be your professor for this quarter. I will have office hours from 10-12 every Monday and Wednesday, and I may be available at other times with an appointment."
The whole class was scribbling down the information, but Mutt sat still with nothing in front of him.
"For this class," Indy continued as he opened one of his own books and took out a sheet of paper, "you will need the textbook available in the bookstore, a composition book for notes and research, pencils and pens, and access to a typewriter."
As he spoke, Indy walked in front of Mutt's desk and set the paper and a pencil down, clicking the pencil sharply on the desk before walking back behind his desk to write on the board again. "You will take three tests for this class. Each test will cover multiple countries, eras, and figures in both history and archeological research. At the end of the quarter, you will turn in a typed paper, minimum of 2,500 words."
"That much?" Mutt blurted out.
The whole class fell silent, the rustle of paper and pencils stopping as everyone stared at Mutt in disbelief.
"I'm sorry," Indy turned from the board. "Did you have a question Mr. –?"
"Williams," Mutt said, his eyes challenging and stubborn.
Indy stiffened, just little. Probably no one else noticed it, but Mutt saw his father's chin lift the tiniest bit, his jaw tightening. "That's odd," Indy said tersely. "A colleague said your name was Jones."
"They were wrong," Mutt replied.
"Fine," Indy stepped from the board, pausing by the desk and putting his hand on the corner, inches away from the closed box holding the snake. "May I see your drivers' license to clear up this mistake?"
"Jones is fine," Mutt muttered. Something about the way Indy was standing told him not to push it.
"You feel that the paper is too long?" Indy went on. "I believe that it needs to be that long to adequately cover a topic, including research and analysis. Double-spaced, typed pages, it's about ten pages. And I will know if you plagiarize. Any questions?"
Indy addressed the whole class, but he looked right down at Mutt.
No one spoke, and Indy returned to the front.
"I will be starting with ancient Egypt and looking at civilization and discoveries around the Nile," Indy continued. "We will be studying artifacts and major discovery sights, but we will also consider history, religion, culture, and politics of the Egyptians as they all play an important part for researchers to recognizing their artifacts."
Mutt sat like stone, refusing to write. Indy saw it, and his eyes glinted as he stared down at his disobedient son. "Mr. Jones, can you not be troubled to take notes?"
"Sorry," Mutt shrugged, "but I'm not sure I'll be attending this class for the rest of the quarter."
"You're thinking of dropping?" Indy asked, returning to stand by the edge of the desk.
The box shook slightly, the snake inside getting antsy.
"Something like that," Mutt replied.
"And do you think your parents will be please with your decision?" Indy's voice was icy.
The box rocked again, and the front row of students noticed it.
"My mom won't care," Mutt replied arrogantly.
"And your father?" Indy hissed the words.
The box was shaking violently, and the whole class was torn between watching it and the fight between their new professor and his student.
"My father abandoned us when I was little," Mutt shrugged. "I don't think he should have a say in what I do now."
Indy opened his mouth to retort, but a girl on the first row pointed to the box and said, "Look, it's moving!"
Indy glanced down and saw the rocking box. Reaching for it, he said, "It's probably something round rolling inside – Jesus Christ!"
The moment he lifted the top and saw the snake, Indy swung at the box, sending it tumbling to the floor.
The snake lurched out of the box the moment it hit the ground, and all the girls in class started screaming. The guys stood up to see what it was.
Indy jumped up on his own chair, grabbing onto the back as he watched the snake wind on the floor. "Somebody get it!" he roared over all the screaming.
"I hate snakes!" one girls wailed.
"Watch it, watch it – here it comes," Indy yelled as the snake zigzagged back and forth on the wood. "Someone get it out, right now!"
Mutt would have laughed – his daredevil father who could fight his way through any danger was now standing up in a chair, completely panicked over one tiny snake. But Mutt didn't want to scare the girls (and there were quite a few pretty ones in the class), so he pulled out of his seat and went after the snake.
The snake did not like being thrown to the floor, and it kept wriggling in circles so it took Mutt a few seconds to grab it. Once he got a hold of it, he stepped towards Indy (still up on the chair) and held it out, asking, "What should I do with it?"
"Get it away from me!" Indy bellowed. His face was pale and sweaty, and he leaned so far away from the snake he nearly fell off the chair. "Throw it out the window, throw it out the window!"
Mutt went to the open window and tossed it out.
"Shut the window," Indy ordered, not venturing off his chair.
"It's too hot," Mutt objected.
"Shut it, and we'll end class in a few minutes before it gets hot," Indy commanded.
Mutt reached up and pulled the window down. Only then did Indy slowly step off the chair, and most of the girls went to their seats. A few were whimpering, and a small blond girl from the back ventured, "Why was a snake in that box?"
"I don't know," Indy put his hands on the desk and leaned forward, trying to breathe calmly. "Someone delivered it to my office, and I –" Indy stopped. He lifted his head up, pinning Mutt with a hard look.
Mutt tried to look cool and relaxed, but he finally shifted the smallest, and that was all the admission of guilt Indiana needed.
"That's it!" Indy roared. He grabbed one of his textbook and stomped around his desk. He grabbed Mutt by the back of the neck and hauled him out of the desk. A gasp passed over the class, but no one dared to say a word.
"We will be right back," Indy marched Mutt out into the hall. Indy glanced around furiously, saw the empty classroom next to his, and pulled Mutt into it.
"Oh, come on," Mutt said in a voice much more respectful and quiet than he had used all day. "It was just a little garden snake – it wouldn't hurt anybody."
"I don't care," Indy reached out and smacked Mutt on the back of the head.
"Hey," Mutt protested, rubbing the back of his head, but Indy smacked him on the shoulder and the arm, peppering him with open-handed swats wherever he could reach as he lectured.
"That is not how you act in a classroom. You don't pull pranks, you don't interrupt, and you don't show me attitude in my own classroom."
"Ow, Dad, stop," Mutt tried to put his hands up to fend off the smacks, but Indy was not having it.
"I'll teach you to interrupt my class," Indy grabbed him by the ear and pushed him facedown over the nearest desk.
"What are you doing?" Mutt demanded, but then Indy slammed the book against his rear end.
The swat made a huge sound in the empty room, and Mutt tried to lurch off the table to face his father, but Indy held him down with his free hand.
"Stay down," Indy ordered. He slammed the door down again, and Mutt shouted,
"You can't do that! I'm not five!"
"If you were five, you'd be over me knee and I'd be using my hand," his father declared, emphasizing his statement with a terrific wallop.
"Stop it! Let me up, you –"
"Call me a name, and I'll tan your hide after class as well," Indy threatened, swatting him again.
Mutt clenched his teeth together. It hurt – a thick textbook was being swung against his rear end with enough force to about knock him over – but he was furious that his father would do that to him in the middle of a college campus where anyone could just walk in. However, Mutt was determined to man it out and not protest – he wouldn't give his father the satisfaction of hearing him cry or beg for him to stop.
Indy swatted him three more times and then yanked him up. "Look at me."
Mutt rebelliously raised his eyes, knowing he better obey or suffer more swats.
"Consider this a warning," Indy told him. "You are going back into that classroom, and you better be the model student or you won't like what happens afterwards. I want you quiet and attentive. Other students are paying for this class. They are not paying to hear you mouth off to me. You're wasting their time and mine, and it ends right now. What do you have to say?"
"Fine," Mutt muttered.
"'Yes, Dad'," Indy prompted sternly.
Mutt began to glare, but Indy raised the textbook up in warning.
"Yes, Dad," Mutt gave.
"You pull anything like this ever again, and I'll use my belt," Indy promised. He pointed to the door. "Move."
The moment their professor had left with his unruly student, the students had begun to whisper to each other, wondering what on earth was going on. One student, a brown-haired boy named Philip, had been brave enough to tiptoe to the front of class and put his ear up to the wall.
"He's yelling at him," Philip reported. The whole class fell silent, barely breathing.
"The snake couldn't hurt anyone, the kid's saying," Philip continued. "But the professor doesn't care. He's still yelling, yelling, yell –"
The sound of a loud swat rang out, and the whole class froze.
A few seconds of awful silence, and then another swat.
Philip turned and hurried back to his seat. They all stared at the wall in horror as the sound of more swats came through.
"Oh, it's awful," one girl whimpered once the swats died. "I never imagined they used corporal punishment here."
"They did at my high school," a boy whispered. "And it was a wooden paddle there, with holes drilled in it."
"Mine just used a ruler on your hands," someone else volunteered.
"But this is college," a red-headed girl protested. "Not grammar school or high school – college, where adults go. They can't do that here – can they? Oh, did you see how angry he looked? I've never been more scared in my life, I wanted to cry."
"Well, that jerk put the snake in the box – I saw him carry it in," another boy spoke up. "Dr. Jones must not like snakes. And it's kind of a stupid prank. Like you said, this is college, not grammar school."
"And he was interrupting, too," another girl commented. "Just running his mouth to no end. I mean, I barely had time to write –"
She fell silent as the door opened, and Mutt walked in, followed closely by a very grim Professor Jones.
Dropping the book on his desk, Indy grabbed Mutt by the collar and the back of the chair he had jumped on. Pulling both the chair and his son to the corner, Indy turned the chair to face out of the corner and pushed Mutt down into it.
"Eyes on me, Mr. Jones," Indy ordered.
Mutt's cheeks flamed as he glanced back to the rest of the class who were all watching him, but then he set his eyes on his father, hoping he could ignore the rest of them. His hands were shaking slightly, but Mutt clenched them into fists and dropped them in his lap. He was never speaking to his father again – hell, he was disowning the man forever. As far as Mutt was concerned, Henry Jones, Jr. did not exist.
He could have forgiven the man for smacking him on the back of the head and on the arms – Mutt was pretty sure he had deserved that much for interrupting. And he might have forgiven him for the handful of swats with book because he knew Indy's phobia of snakes, and if they had been at home, Mutt might have accepted the punishment reluctantly. But to do it in the middle of the college and then make him sit up front – unacceptable.
Indy went on to describe the rest of the work for the class, but Mutt did not hear a single word as he sat there seething. Indy paused to ask if there were any questions, but no one dared ask anything.
"Good, see you tomorrow," Indy nodded to dismiss the class.
For most of his classes, his students slowly got their things together and moseyed towards the door, stopping to chat with him or query about future projects. But today, they all gathered up their stuff and moved to the door as fast as they could, not one meeting his eye as they passed him. In a matter of seconds, the room had emptied, and Indy found himself alone with his son.
"I hate you," Mutt told him bluntly.
"I'm not too fond of you right now either," Indy retorted. "Come on, I'll walk you to your next class. And I swear, you give Dr. Matthews any of this attitude, and I will pound you into the ground."
"I'll tell Mom," Mutt said, barely audible.
"And I'll tell Mom what really happened," Indy returned. "We'll see how she takes it, you interrupting my class. This is my job, what pays for our house and clothes and food. Would Mom like you acting this way? Would Oxley?"
Mutt scowled at the way Indy talked about his mother, calling her 'Mom' as if Mutt was a little kid and calling her Marion would confuse him. But that was true – this was his father's job, just like Ox's job. And Mutt knew he would have never treated Ox that way.
"Fine," Mutt relented. "I'll go to the classes."
"And don't you ever find another snake," Indy warned, "or I'll fill your bed with scorpions."
"That's not the same," Mutt protested, but Indy was already pushing him towards the door.