“No,” Max said. “It was wrong.”
“Here is the second bulletin,”
the loudspeakers went on.
“Late this afternoon WESCAC read out the following tidings of great joy: A true Grand Tutor is about to appear in New Tammany College, to show right-thinking students and staff-members the way to Commencement Gate. I repeat: WESCAC has officially read out that a true Grand Tutor is about to appear …”
One heard no more of the restatement, owing to the great stir in the crowd. People murmured and shouted, hooted and whispered. Some wiped their eyes on their sleeves; some shrilly laughed. A few left the theater; many others seemed to want to, but could not bring themselves quite to it.
“How ’bout
that!
” Peter Greene exclaimed; he slapped my knee and shook his head admiringly, as though I had played a great amusing trick on him. Dr. Sear regarded me with a look of sharply interested doubt, and Max embraced me—almost fearfully, I thought—and then excused himself, mumbling that his bladder was full. I could not decide whether to rise and proclaim myself or hold my peace yet a while; moreover, for all my surge of feeling at the announcement, I had foresight yet to wonder what one did after the proclamation: having said, “I am that same Grand Tutor,” did one then sit down again, or commence Tutoring straightway? And what did one say? Where anyhow
was
Commencement Gate? Better, I decided, to bide a bit more time; the players were assembling again in the orchestra; the lights dimmed that had come on for the announcement; I looked around for Max, but he had gone through the exit behind us; the crowd still hummed and shifted as the committee and its chairman gathered before the Deanery door through which now the Handsome Mailman came and waved his arms for silence.
| MAILMAN: | You ain’t heard nothing yet . |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | We’ve heard a lot … |
| MAILMAN: | This college is a loser . |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | If you’ve got more bad news, don’t beat about the bush; lay it on us . |
| MAILMAN: | Okay. Then I’ll push along for home, since neither snow nor rain , et cetera. |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN; | We know . |
| MAILMAN: | I can’t complain about the weather here in Cadmus; it’s your women burn me up. “If the shoe fits, wear it,” so they say, and Mrs. Dean fit me like a—you know what I mean. I went upstairs to check the old girl out on first-class mail reception—you no doubt recall her parting words? |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | She meant to go and hang her dress up, I remember . |
| MAILMAN: | Oh boy, and did she ever! I near flipped when I walked in and found the Deaness stripped mother-naked … |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | Isn’t she a dear? |
| MAILMAN: | … and also swinging from the chandelier . |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | At her age! Pass her heart, she’s full of juice, that girl! |
| MAILMAN: | No more, my friend: she’d made a noose out of her gown and hanged herself, and there she swang: pop-eyed, purple-faced, and bare . |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | A pity! Now our plump and placid wives will be the only women in our lives . |
| MAILMAN: | Too bad for you; you’re in the wrong profession. Anyhow, I’d gone up for a session of playing Post Office, not to see a naked female corpse. It seems to me the woman could have waited till tonight, when I was gone . |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | It sure was impolite of her . |
| MAILMAN: | You said it. But, that’s how it goes. In any case, I forgot to close the bedroom door, and as I stood there swearing and ogling her, young Taliped comes tearing in. He yelled and hollered; I said, “Hi there, Taliped,” but he never did reply . |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | Another rude one. Cadmus seems to be a little short on hospitality . |
| MAILMAN: | That’s right. Anyhow, he grabbed a knife from somewhere and cut down his black-faced wife—I mean his black-faced mother … |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | Let it go; we get the general picture . |
| MAILMAN: | And you know what he did then? |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | I hope he wasn’t rude to you . |
| MAILMAN: | Judge for yourself. There lay his nude old lady, with the gown around her chin; he tore off his diamond-studded fraternity pin and also his old man’s—she wore them both, you know—then he let go an awful oath … |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | He’s good at that . |
| MAILMAN: | He said, “A flunking curse upon that pair of breasts I used to nurse and later played with in a different wise; the breasts that wore these pins! Flunk the eyes, your sun-blind husband’s eyes, these too-bright wretches, that blindly saw them!” He undid the catches then, and poked his eyes out . |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | “Too-bright sun”! He should have stabbed himself for such a pun . |
| MAILMAN: | I just report the news; I’m not a critic. The Dean’s blind . |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | Like our hermaphroditic Seer Emeritus, who foresaw this mess! What’s Taliped up to now? |
| MAILMAN: | You’ll never guess: he wants to make a general exhibition, to staff and students, of his low condition before he flunks himself . |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | We can’t have that. What would the Trustees say? But he can chat with us awhile, I guess, before he goes. It helps to talk things over. I suppose this is the poor chap coming now. Ugh! [Enter TALIPED |
| TALIPED: | Yes, it’s me, friends . |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | I. |
| TALIPED: | It’s I, and I confess I’m right bad off . |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | You are that, Dean. It makes me somewhat ill to see you . |
| TALIPED: | My heart breaks for you. I was so handsome in Act One, and now look . |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | Ech. |
| TALIPED: | It’s bad, huh? |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | If you’re done, sir, we’ll be seeing you . |
| TALIPED: | I’m not done yet . |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | I thought perhaps you were . |
| TALIPED: | I wish you’d let me speak my piece; it’s my catastrophe. Gee whiz, it hurts to know as much as me! |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | As much as— |
| TALIPED: | Never mind! I’d like to choke that shepherd-type who saved my life . |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | The bloke did no one any good, that’s a fact. If I were you, I wouldn’t end this act a blind old beggar: death would be much nicer, I believe . |
| TALIPED: | I don’t need your advice, sir. Suicide has never been my cup of tea, and it would mess the symbols up. Excuse me now; I have some things to curse . |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | Well, all right; go ahead . |
| TALIPED: | I’ll take a verse or two to flunk that ditch called Dean’s Ravine because I didn’t die there; then I mean to flunk old Isthmus College and the chap who raised me as his son. I’ll take a slap at Three-Tined Fork, and when I’ve flunked it I’ll curse marriage and love-making for a while, since they’re what made me what I am today. Ten minutes ought to do the whole curse . |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | Say, I guess we’ll have to take a rain-check on it; here comes your brother-in-law . |
| TALIPED: | That clown! Doggone it, he’s got no right to steal my biggest scene! |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | Be careful what you say; he’s Acting Dean these days, you know . |
| TALIPED: | Oh boy . |
| | [Enter BROTHER-IN-LAW |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | [ TO BROTHER-IN-LAW ] |
| | Good evening, sir! |
| | Nice to see you! |
| BROTHER-IN-LAW: | Sure it is. You were always glad to see me, I recall. But never mind. Come on and help me haul this eyeless bastard out of here before he tells some news-reporter the whole story. He never can leave well enough alone; he’s always showing off . |
| TALIPED: | Gee whiz! |
| BROTHER-IN-LAW: | [ TO TALIPED ] |
| | Don’t groan for pity now, you sonofabitch. You had it coming . |
| TALIPED: | Lay off, Uncle; I’m in sad enough condition. Look, why not expel me from the place? |
| BROTHER-IN-LAW: | I’ll let the Proph-prof tell me what to do, not you. I wish I’d thrown you out nine years ago . |
| TALIPED: | Me too. Alone, I’ll wander up to Dean’s Ravine and die where Mom and Dad first ditched me. Or I’ll try, at least … |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | Do try . |
| BROTHER-IN-LAW: | Try hard . |
| TALIPED: | I will; and yet I know somehow that my end won’t be met in any ordinary way. Some queer fate lies ahead for me; if not this year, then next—some strange, spectacular surprise . |
| BROTHER-IN-LAW: | Nonsense. Must you always dramatize everything you do? |
| TALIPED: | Grant one request , |
| | Uncle dear … |
| BROTHER-IN-LAW: | What now? |
| TALIPED: | I have the best-looking daughters and the brightest sons on campus, right? |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | You have the corniest puns; I’ll vouch for that . |
| TALIPED: | The boys can get along without me, but I think it would be wrong to leave the girls behind . |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | Another play on words, and naughty, too . |
| BROTHER-IN-LAW: | The girls will stay with me. No use to complicate things further. You are their dad and brother; if you were their lover too, we’d never get things straight . |
| | [Enter KIDS Make your goodbyes short; it’s getting late . |
| TALIPED: | [ TO KIDS ] Poor kids! You’ve got a rugged row to hoe. You won’t have any boyfriends, ’cause they’ll know your daddy was your brother. Boyfriends hate to hear such things as that about a date . |
| KIDS: | Some big brother you turned out to be. You’re pretty sexy, though . |
| BROTHER-IN-LAW: | I think that we should stop right where we are . |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | Me too . |
| TALIPED: | [ TO COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN ] |
| | Are you still here? |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | Where else? |
| BROTHER-IN-LAW: | Well, girls, say toodle-oo to Taliped. It’s time for him to go . |
| KIDS: | Toodle-oo, Pops . |
| TALIPED: | No! |
| BROTHER-IN-LAW: | Yes . |
| TALIPED: | No! |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | Yes . |
| TALIPED: | No! Leaving my pretty girls behind is quite the hardest thing on campus! |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | I was right: He can’t resist a dirty joke . |
| BROTHER-IN-LAW: | [ TO KIDS ] |
| | Get lost now, girls . |
| KIDS: | Okay . |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | Bye-bye . |
| TALIPED: | No, wait! |
| BROTHER-IN-LAW: | You’ve bossed us long enough, pal; I’m in charge here now. You weren’t too good at deaning anyhow . |
| COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: | [Aside] A good administrator’s hard to find . |
| TALIPED: | [Aside] I might take up proph-proffing, now I’m blind . |