Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. All persons depicted in sexual acts are at least 18 years of age and consenting adults.
I was blessed with a lot of beta-reading and editing help with this one. I need to give lots of credit, appreciation, and thanks to
Djmac1031
,
Todger65
,
Grumpyg
, and
Annabellebrito
for how well this story turned out. Huzzah!
Brace yourself. This is a long one, folks. I hope you enjoy. Feel free to drop a comment at the end.
I pulled my jeep into the nearest parking spot and killed the engine. I sat there for a minute, looking over the familiar scenery around me. The old buildings looked much the same as they did the last time I had been here, some thirty years ago.
Like so many others had done before me, I enrolled in college here at home right out of high school. I was aiming for a degree in history and wanted to teach. My parents struggled with their day-to-day bills, and still had my younger sister to care for, so I was on my own when it came to paying for my education. I took a job working overnights at a truck stop, emptying trash cans, cleaning toilets, and scrubbing shower stalls.
It was a tough time in my life. I had to put in a lot of overtime to pay my tuition. Even working those long hours, I struggled to meet my monthly obligations, much less feed and clothe myself. I wore the same ragged shoes to work and school, and it was a treat for me to have more than one meal every other day.
Suffice it to say, I was not doing well at the time. Very early on in the semester, I realized that I would not have the time to do any of the homework or reading needed to keep up. When the first grades posted, I was failing every class.
Right before my mid-term exams, I was approached by an Air Force recruiter on campus. He offered me money up front to enlist, and then another, even larger bonus once I finished basic training. I didn't even listen to the rest of his spiel. It was a paltry sum of money in the grand scheme of things, but at the time it felt like a small fortune. I was on a bus to San Antonio later that month for basic training.
My initial six-year obligation quickly morphed into a career of over thirty years. I took to military life quickly and excelled at most of it. I was trained as a Communications Specialist. I rose through the ranks at breakneck speed and spent many years of my stay in and around Washington D.C. Generals, senators, and cabinet members all requested my help. I spent most of my time translating documents and intercepted communications. I learned to read, write, and speak a number of languages, including Farsi, Arabic, Russian, and Mandarin. I dabbled in a little Swahili and Cantonese as well.
Shortly after I announced my military retirement, I was contacted by a former classmate from high school. Greg had recently become a dean at our hometown college, the same school I had dropped out of that first semester. Where I had gone one direction and left school, he had gone on to graduate, get a doctorate, and become a big shot school administrator. We had kept in touch off and on through the years, and he knew of my multilingual background.
The university was expanding the modern languages department, and he offered me a position teaching basic Russian and Mandarin. After a few phone calls and Zoom meetings, I agreed to take the job. I loaded up my belongings and headed back to my old stomping grounds down south.
I hadn't been back home in many, many years. After my mother died, my sister took over the house we grew up in. I didn't speak to her often. Her husband and I had a physical altercation at my father's funeral several years before that, and I did not want to open up any old wounds for either of us. I found an apartment and went in to meet with Greg a couple of weeks before school was to set to start.
So, I stepped out of my jeep and went to find Greg's office. It was on the top floor of the shiny new administration building on the other end of campus. His receptionist, a sweet older woman named Gloria, offered me a seat, and said Dr. Landers would be with me shortly. I was impressed by the modern interior design and artwork on the walls.
"Andrew, great to see you again," Greg said warmly, opening the large wooden door. "Come on in!"
We shook hands and I followed him in. I sat at the large glass desk across from him and glanced out the floor to ceiling windows looking out over the campus.
"How are you man?" he continued. "How long has it been since you've been back in town?"
"It has been quite a while," I nodded. "Ten, twelve years or so. Way too long."
"True, true," he said, buttoning his suit jacket and sitting down. "So, listen, we've hit a little snag that I wasn't expecting," his expression was suddenly stern. "We're going to have to delay you joining us on the faculty here."
"You're kidding me!" I half-shouted "I just moved in my apartment this past weekend."
"Hold on, hold on, let me explain, it isn't quite that bad." He said, trying to calm me down.
"I knew you had dropped out of school back in the day to enlist, but the issue is that you did not actually withdraw from those classes, you just left. Officially, you have a transcript full of 'Incompletes' for those classes. There is an old university policy still on the books that states that you cannot be hired with a transcript containing multiple incomplete grades from here."
Greg pushed a printed copy of my full transcript in front of me. I could see all my Air Force certifications and degrees up top, but sure enough, there, at the bottom, were four big red 'I's that jumped off the page.
"So, I'm screwed is what you're telling me." I felt very dejected.
"Well, no. Look I tried, I really did. But the regents were very clear; I can't hire you with those still there," he took a breath. "But they did say that if we could replace those incompletes with actual grades, then we could move forward with no issues."
Greg's face looked hopeful. I thought for a moment. "So, what, I take a couple of online classes and we're good?" This didn't sound so bad after all.
"Not really. Incomplete courses are not online eligible to be re-taken online if they were not originally taken online," he said, sounding like he had memorized that part of the policy ahead of time.
"Wait, that's not my fault, there was no online learning back then." I argued.
"That is true, but the policy still applies. You will need to do these classes in person."
"So, I have to take a bunch of freshman courses to clean this up?"
"Yes." he replied, bracing himself. "Look, Andrew, I know this is not ideal, but it would be just the one semester. I can freeze your contract, so your job remains guaranteed. We would just start in the spring instead."
I was quiet for a moment or two. I guess Greg sensed doubt, so he continued selling me on the idea.
