Sunday, August 12, 2018

Chapter Two: The Professor


Washington, D.C. – 1996

            It was the first day of school for Alexis Redding and her boyfriend of four months, Jefferson “Jeff” Reed. For Alexis, it was in Georgetown University, where she worked as a college professor. For Jeff, it was at the high school where he worked as a music teacher.


            Alexis thought herself blessed to be in a relationship with such a wonderful guy like Jeff, particularly with this day being her first in teaching African American History. “What if it’s to a whole class of African American kids?” she nervously pondered aloud.

            “There are many white professors that teach A.A. History, Alex.”

            She loved the way he abbreviated her first name like that. No one, to the best of her knowledge, ever called her “Alex” ‘til she met Jeff.

            “You’ll be just fine,” he assured her, sealing it with a kiss.

            After breakfast, Jeff and Alexis left their apartment for work.

            Alexis took the bus to Georgetown; on the way, she switched on her Walkman and listened to her favorite morning tune: Michael Jackson’s “Human Nature.” Her arrival on campus was carefully observed from afar, unbeknownst to her, by a young blonde in a black leather jacket and a brown Great Dane.

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            The A.A. History class started with a number of students much smaller than Alexis anticipated.

            Among them were Craig Jones and his father, Willie (who was merely there to ensure his son gets an education and a job), Fred Jones (no relation to either Craig or Willie), Daphne Blake, Norville “Shaggy” Rogers, Velma Dinkley, and a hooded student sitting in the far corner of the classroom.

            “Is this everybody?” Alexis asked.

            Taking role, she saw one name on the roster that hadn’t answered: Gen Curtsinger.

            Why does that last name sound so familiar to me?

            Gen did arrive to class, albeit a few minutes late.

            She seemed like a bit of a rebellious Gen-Xer to Alexis – mid-twenties blonde in a black leather jacket.

            As weird as it was for Alexis to admit, she was relieved that – out of the seven students in her class – only one of them was African American; though she mentally countered this by noting how it was probably not something to be relieved about.

            “Alright,” she began. “Now that we’re all here, let’s introduce ourselves. My name is Professor Alexis Redding.” She wrote it on the blackboard for them to see, dusting the chalk off her hands afterward. “I’ve taught here in Georgetown for a year now, but this is my first year in teaching African American History.”

            “How can a white woman teach about the history of black people?!” Craig spoke out of turn, much to the displeasure of his father.

            “Shut yo butt up, boy,” Willie scolded. “You should be focused on gettin’ your ‘A’ before I whip your ‘B’.”


            Craig never felt more embarrassed; it didn’t help much to hear a few other students snickering at the scene he and mostly his father made. “Man, do you really need to be in here with me?” he begrudgingly asked him.

            “It’s O.K., Craig,” Alexis said. “Your question is justifiable. But you’ll be surprised just how much I can teach you. For instance, did you know that the Tuskegee Airmen who fought in World War II underwent 1,578 combat missions? 1,267 for the Twelfth Air Force and 311for the Fifteenth Air Force.”

            Willie giggled with gratification. “Whew! Mac-a-roni! I’m gettin’ my money’s worth with this white woman!”

            Alexis wasn’t sure how she got on showing off to her new pupils, but she redirected the discussion back on topic by pointing to one of her flashier students, starting with the one wearing the ascot: “Wanna introduce yourself, Mister…?”

            “Fred Jones,” he stood up and said. “My gang and I enrolled together.”

            “Your ‘gang’?” Alexis questioned, not too big on the term.


            “I mean, my friends,” Fred elaborated, gesturing to the other three flashy students. “Daphne, Velma, and Shaggy. We’ve been friends for years. And as important as it is for us to get our education, we’re also in process of investigating an even more important mystery.”

            Alexis was a little intrigued by that last part. “Well…I certainly hope you solve it. Thanks for sharing, Mister Jones. Glad to have you and your friends here with us.”

            “See there?” Willie whispered to his son. “Even in college, white folks got way too much time on their hands.”

            “Miss Curtsinger?” Alexis centered on Gen. “Mind telling us a bit about yourself to the class?”

            Gen stood and gave a very brief, cryptic response: “I’m here for a friend.”

            “You mean that you’re filling in for someone?” Alexis presumed.

            “I guess you can say that,” Gen said before sitting back down in her desk.

            “O…kay?” Alexis reacted to the short, awkward exchange, opting not to dwell so much on Gen’s secrecy. Instead, she moved on to the last student: the hooded gentleman in the corner of the room. “Looks like we saved the best for last. Tell us a bit about yourself, sir.”

            “Skip me,” he requested in a gruff voice.

            “Aw, c’mon,” Alexis urged. “Just a lil’ something – doesn’t have to be big.”

            At her insistence, the man stood and removed his hood, exposing his shaven scalp and rugged beard. “My name’s Everett,” he frigidly said. “And I’m here to kill ya, Professor.”

            Before Alexis could have a moment to reflect on what the man just told her, she watched him pull out an odd-looking handgun from his hoodie and fire what she hardly believed to be a laser that nearly killed her. She ducked, leaving the laser to strike the blackboard behind her, scorching it so much that her name was no longer there.

            The next moments passed like a blur to her.

            First, Gen sprang to her defense, attacking the assassin with a bō staff that Alexis didn’t even see her walk in with.

            While the two fought like ninjas, Fred and his friends guided Alexis, as well as Craig and Willie, out of the room and building altogether. As soon as they were outside, they heard a crash, turning in time to see Everett thrown out the fifth story window, his body smacking onto the concrete with a sickening thud.

            There was no possible way he could have survived.

            Gen rushed out soon thereafter, lightly bruised but otherwise unscathed.

            “What is going on?!” a reasonably shaken Alexis exclaimed. “Who are you?”

            “I’m you from the past,” Gen told her, acting more enigmatic than before.

            Chattering from where Everett landed to his death brought Alexis’s attention to a crowd of concerned people gathered around there. “You killed that man,” she reproached Gen, her savior.

            “He would’ve killed you, if I hadn’t,” Gen deflected. “Now let’s get out of here. We need to get back to my T.A.R.D.I.S.”

            “Your what?!” Alexis cringed.

            “Now hold on one minute,” a heavily reluctant Willie interjected. “I got my boy into this school to get his education and a J-O-B! And we ain’t goin’ anywhere with you crazy white folks ‘til he does!”

            “Pops,” Craig griped. “We just got our butts nearly blown off!”

            “I don’t give-a…!”

            Willie ceased his protesting, once he felt Gen’s bō staff rested on his shoulder, with its owner issuing a threat that sent chills down his spine: “Come with us or I’ll shatter every bone in your body with this thing.”

            It didn’t take long for Willie to rethink his choice.

            “Well, let’s go,” he conceded. “I ain’t gonna argue with a crazy white lady.”

            And so, Gen led the class away from the scene.

            Had they remained there for a while longer, they would have witnessed the impossible recovery of Everett.

            It began with a golden glow of energy that shrouded his broken, inert body.

            In seconds, the man was healed to the point of consciousness, getting back on his feet and walking off, much to the surprise of the crowd around him.

            Of course, it was no more off-putting than the eerie glow in his eyes.



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