Authors note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Rutwell College Chronicles:
Revenge of the Nerd's Father
Introduction:
Welcome to Rutwell College.
A place of learning. A steppingstone for all who enter its halls in the great journey of life.
For over two centuries, students at Rutwell have found themselves growing, stretching their limits, encouraged to try new experiences, to embark on paths they never considered before.
In these lecture halls and libraries, this haven of scholarship, the faculty find fresh minds to mold, empty vessels looking to be filled. Youth and experience coming together in creative and unexpected ways with astonishing results.
As the motto of the college says, 'Mens Aperta, Corpus Saturatum'... 'Open Mind, Sated Body'.
Chapter 1: The Briefing
Calvin Weeks rested his head on the steering wheel of his car. Like the vehicle he was sat in, Calvin had seen better days. He rose up from his slumped position, rising like a zombie from the grave, complete with a groan of suffering. Sitting back upright, Calvin twisted the rear-view mirror to inspect his appearance. His hair was shaggy and unkempt, the beard that covered his face looked more like a briar bush in a field than a man's facial growth. Both were long overdue a visit with a brush and scissors. Calvin patted himself down in search of a comb but came up empty. He mauled at both hair and beard for a few seconds with his bare hands trying to bring some order to the chaos, but it was a hopeless task.
He climbed out of his twenty-year-old, much dented car and stretched. At a shade over six foot five, driving for any sort of distance left him stiff, his tall body having to wedge itself into the driver's seat. He might have let his appearance slip some these last couple of years...he looked down at the grubby jeans, oil-streaked white t-shirt and worn leather jacket...okay, he definitely had let his appearance slip. But he had kept himself in shape, at forty he still had the same physique and fitness level he had enjoyed at twenty-five. It took effort and dedication and time. Then again, all he had was time.
A young white man, a student by the look of the books cradled under one arm, passed by him, eyes lowered, shoulders hunched protectively. Calvin got that a lot. Big, black and looking seedy, yeah, he had gotten used to folk being wary around him. He chided himself for prevaricating, there was no point putting things off any longer, he had a job to do.
Calvin walked across the car park towards the building marked 'Rutwell College - Administration Building'. It had been two days since his ex-wife had called him. He knew there was something wrong straight away because Gloria only ever called for two reasons, he was late with alimony or there was trouble. Since he was on top of the money situation Calvin had answered the phone with trepidation. He was right. Trouble.
Their daughter Josephine, Jo as everyone called her, had started college that year at Rutwell. He'd spoken to her the night before she'd left, told her how proud he was of her. Now four months later there was Gloria ringing to tell him that Jo had returned home and was refusing to go back to the college. She wouldn't open up to Gloria at all, wouldn't talk to Mark either. Mark was Gloria's new husband and as much as Calvin didn't like the guy, hard to like a man who is sleeping with your wife, he respected the way Mark had formed his own bond with Jo. So, if his daughter wouldn't tell her mother or her step father what was wrong, wouldn't even come on the phone to Calvin. Well, something was rotten.
Jo was the sensitive type she had been since she was born, which always seemed odd to Calvin as sensitive was never a word that could have been used to describe him. Gloria, well she made Calvin seem reasonable in comparison. Hot tempered was a massive understatement regarding that woman. Jo, however, took things to heart. If a friend didn't call straightaway, then Jo worried that she'd done something wrong, and they'd fallen out. If someone laughed, she worried that she was the source of the joke. Most of the time she overreacted, Calvin hoped that was the case now. Gloria had then asked him to drive out to the university to sort things out and Calvin agreed, not for Gloria, for Jo.
He tapped a finger on the desk, looking to draw the attention of the secretary who was sat outside the office of one of the college administrators, a Ms. Thompson. It was Ms. Thompson that had contacted Gloria, asking for information on Jo and when she might be returning. The secretary, a mousy looking brunette woman whose character and appearance seemed to have made her destined for such a role, squinted at Calvin through thick glasses.
"Janitorial services are two floors down," she said, looking back at her computer monitor.
That wasn't entirely unexpected given his appearance, but Calvin still felt he'd been judged a bit harshly.
"Calvin Weeks to see Ms. Thomson, I'm expected."
His voice was deep but a bit croaky sounding to his own ears. That's what comes when you don't talk to people much anymore.
"Oh, sorry. Um yes. Let me see if she can see you now."
The secretary disappeared into the office behind her, reappearing a moment later. She beckoned Calvin to come inside offering him a mildly apologetic half smile. He brushed past her, watching as she flinched to avoid contact. 'Need to see about a shower along with everything else I guess' he thought as he entered the office, closing the door behind him.
Sitting behind the desk was an older white woman, maybe fifty. Her hair had probably once been light blonde in color, but time had reduced it to a snowy white luster. The haircut itself was a short pixie cut that suited her well with her long delicate neck. Ms. Thompson also seemed to have managed to stave off many of the wrinkles you would have expected a woman of her years to have added by this point of her life, taking care of herself, something Calvin respected.
Her expression as Calvin walked to the desk was as frosty as the hair on her head, piercing blue eyes making Calvin instinctively cast her in the role of villain, 'The Ice Queen'. He had to struggle to keep a small grin from his face at the thought, a smirk at this point wasn't going to thaw out this woman.
Ms. Thompson indicated the chair in front of her desk, but she didn't speak until Calvin had eased his large form into the small chair. He shifted a little hoping to get comfortable, stopping as the icy look dropped another few degrees in temperature. Ms. Thompson then rose to her feet, extending her hand. "Mr. Weeks, I'm Clara Thompson".
'What the hell was she doing, getting me to sit and then making me stand again?' Calvin thought, rising up to take her hand. 'Pure power play' he decided.
"Nice to meet you, please, call me Calvin" he said taking her hand briefly. She was tall, not 'him' tall but close on five foot ten he reckoned. Calvin figured that she needed to be that tall to offset her huge bosom. He couldn't begin to figure out the size of them, but he silently wished her clothing was as worn as his own, maybe that way a button or two might have popped when she drew in an annoyed breath as he suggested she call him by his first name.
"Now then Mr. Weeks," she began as she retook her seat, Calvin slowly sinking back into his own. "Your daughter Josephine left the campus, let me see, almost a month ago and has not returned since then. Now normally the college is open minded about students needing a leave of absence, but we do need a reason for it and of course a return date. Your daughter, nor yourself as a parent, have been able to offer the college any such detail."
She paused at this point, giving Calvin the opportunity to respond. He hadn't anything to say so he said nothing, he just stared at the middle button on her blouse...did it look like it was weakening?
"Fine, well as I was saying. If no details are provided then it is the normal course of events to issue a notice to the student that failure to reappear for lectures by a set date will result in them losing their place at this educational facility." Another pause, another silent answer from Calvin.
"That date was reached yesterday Mr Weeks. However, it seems that you have some influence with our Head of Admissions, Mrs Garcia."
"Yes ma'am," Calvin answered.
"Would it trouble you to let me know exactly what that manner of influence is?" Ms Thompson enquired.
"I served with her late husband ma'am. Good soldier, better man."
"Oh, oh I see. Well, yes that would explain it then." She shuffled some papers in embarrassment. "Well Mrs Garcia has informed me that the deadline for Josephine's return has been extended till the beginning of the next semester. So for the moment her dorm room remains her own. I have a key for it here, perhaps you would like to go there, pick up whatever items Josephine requires brough home for the immediate future?"
"Thank you ma'am, I appreciate that." Calvin took the proffered key from her and found her passing him a laminated badge on a lanyard as well.
"This is a visitors pass, you'll need it for the dorm area. Mr. Weeks, my secretary, will provide you with a guide to the campus. I do hope that whatever is keeping Josephine from returning to us here at Rutwell will be sorted. Sooner rather than later."
"So do I ma'am. Goodbye." Calvin took her hand again, the handshake this time a little firmer, a little friendlier. He turned to go, pausing as Ms. Thompson cleared her throat.
