Date: Sun, 13 Apr 2008 15:37:37 -0700 (PDT)
From: Master Terra D <masterterradil@yahoo.com>
Subject: Professor Starner flipped, part 1

Professor Starner flipped through the term papers. Dreck, every last one of
them. Even his best students' work was barely average; the average students
had made "D"s or failed, and the below average students...well, it seemed
English had become a lost language for this assignment.
	"At least 500 words on your worst fear"
	The baseball player with a "worst fear" of being cut from the
team. The gorgeous blonde bombshell, afraid of not being able to buy the
newest fashion. The techno geek, afraid he wouldn't be able to find the
latest gadget.
	A few had taken a humor approach, but none had taken the assignment
seriously. Where was the fear of having some deep, dark secret exposed?
Even if that secret was nothing more than a birth mark shaped like an
exclamation point above the buttock, or something equally as trivial. But
the "fears" were juvenile at best, infantile at worst.
	English Professor Jeremiah Starner was going to be handing out no
"A"s or "B"s, 4 "C"s, a dozen or so "D"s, and the rest were going to
fail. He'd already decided to reassign the work, giving everyone a chance
to improve their grades.
	He looked at the "C" list: his 3 best students and the baseball
player. Janice, Sherice, and Michael were easily the 3 best in class. Hugh
had impressed him. While being cut from the team was hardly a "worst fear",
Professor Starner was impressed by the writing and reasoning. A better fear
and a lot of proof reading would have increased that grade; the same was
true of the other 3.
	Starner slid the linen papers across the mahogany top and thought
of his students. Janice was that stereotypical mousy girl, brilliant, but
shy. She was rather attractive, but his it behind a librarian's hair style
and a poor selection of glasses.
	Sherice was outspoken, hairs in corn rows, always willing to
debate, and seldom wrong.
	Michael was the star of the English department. If he picked the
academic life, the college was assured of a star professor who would one
day outshine them all, and in a brief time. Light brown hair atop an
average frame, a less than angelic face, but a personality that lit up his
classmates' faces.
	Starner searched for the baseball players' paper. He couldn't
remember his name, constantly distracted by his handsome face. Steven?
Stacy? Stanley? He kept digging through the papers, remembering the tuft of
hairs constantly in view, peaking from the white t-shirt always beneath his
shirt. He had a not-quite square jaw line, a fun smile, brown eyes, wavy
brown hair. "Shit, another hard on."
	The paper was finally at hand. Samuel? Saul? Sylvester?
	Wayne, that was it.
	"My Worst Fear, Being Cut from the team"
	He'd almost failed him on the title work alone, but had plowed
ahead, as he did every paper. This one had done better than most others.

	The next day, Starner sensed some of the students knew what was
coming. About 5 seats were unusually vacant, although they filled as the
period ran on, students straggling in, knowing looks on their faces, their
papers waiting for them at their seats.
	"...now that we've gone over what's wrong, let's talk about doing
this right," Starner started to wrap up his class. "Everyone will pick a
real fear. If you're greatest fear is that you'll be dressed in orange when
the fashion is blue, drop this class now. Seriously, there's the door."
	He gestured. One girl did a double look, but sat still.
	"Be real. Be true. Don't make something up to impress me. Write
from the heart. I will not share your fear with anyone else. You had a week
to do that last paper. This one is due next class."
	He pointed to the door, and the students filed out, many for their
last Friday class, knowing they'd be busy over the weekend, some trying to
save their scholarships.
	Tracy stopped at Starner's desk.
	"Can I have some extra time? I'm the maid of honor for my sister's
wedding Sunday, and I could use at least until Wednesday," she tried to
smile.
	Starner looked up.
 	"Maybe that should have been your worst fear, Tracy," he did
smile. "Paper please?"
	She handed it to him. He looked at the title.
	"Your worst fear is never marrying, despite you writing that no one
in your family has ever not married nor ever divorced," Starner said. "And
you wrote that your engaged to a man you've dated 5 years, and the date is
set for a week after the spring term ends. Plus, you offered no reason why
it was your fear."
	She did a "cute" smile, tilting her head to the side.
	"Have a title to my office by 5 p.m., and I'll let you have until
Wednesday to turn in the paper. An outline will be due at Monday's
class. And you'll have to reference at least 2 articles to support it," he
said, not even looking up. "Otherwise, it's due Monday. By my watch, you
have 2 hours to turn in a title. You can slip it under the door as I really
don't plan to be there, but I'll check it by 6 p.m."
	She ran out the door.
	Next was Barb, then Carol, then Robert, then...
	One excuse after another, the worst grades begging for more
time. Two he allowed until Wednesday – the second receiving the same
terms as Tracy, the rest he didn't.
	He barely got the students out before the next teacher came in for
the 3 p.m. class. Professor Starner could hear a few students following
him.
	For 5 minutes he dealt with them from his office, finally shooing
them to work.
	The door closed and Starner enjoyed about 30 minutes of silence.
	Knock, knock.
	Starner sighed.
	"Yes?"
	"It's Wayne. May I come in?"
	"'May'?" Starner thought. "Maybe he has been paying attention."
	"Enter."
	The hunky athlete sauntered through the wood-trimmed doors, the
professors' offices a different feel than the cafeteria-sterile,
tiered-seated classrooms. Wayne had paid attention in his speech classes
and made eye contact with the 40-something, black-haired professor. Starner
was about Wayne's height, and stood as Wayne approached the desk. Wayne
guessed Starner worked out as he presented himself well and his clothes
hung off his frame in a manly manner. Starner didn't dress in the
suit-and-tie uniform of many professors, especially in the English
department. Starner wore Henley shirts, or Polos. He seldom wore anything
for a tie.
	"It's due Monday," Starner started, sitting after the pair had
shaken hands. "Run spell and grammar check on it before you hit print."
	Wayne shifted in his seat.
	"I don't have a problem with the report being due Monday, Professor
Starner," Wayne said, maintaining. "It's the paper itself."
	 "What about it?" Starner asked.
	"The topic."
	"And?"
	Silence.
	"What's your worst fear, Wayne!" Starner shouted, standing up and
slamming his fist into the desk top. "It can't be being cut from the
team. You're on a fucking athletic scholarship! You're a typically `C'
student who gets tutored in every class. Your fear can't be getting
cut. Face your fear!"
	Wayne kept eye contact, but did blink.
	"You sure no one will see the paper?"
	"Yes. You hand them in, I grade them, I hand them back."
	"Today's were waitin' on the desks," Wayne countered.
	"These won't. And you won't pass them forward to submit them. I
will either take them at the front, or walk around and directly take
them. Anything else?"
	Wayne kind of frown, but it made him a bit endearing to Starner.
	"My fear is everyone will find out I'm gay," Wayne stated.
	Now Starner was silent.
	"I'm not stupid, Wayne. Everyone knew this assignment was coming,
and everyone knows the follow up assignment. Students do talk from one year
to the other," Starner said, assuming knowledge on Wayne's part.
	"I'm not following you, prof," Wayne stated seriously. "I don't
really do that for my liberal arts classes."
	"The next assignment is `How will you over come your worst fear?',"
Starner said. "Seriously, if that is your worst fear, how on Earth will you
be able to write the follow up paper?"
	"I didn't know that."
	"I suggest you deal with your real fears," Starner shrugged.
	"But I am gay, prof." Wayne sat his ground, not moving from the
chair.
	Starner was gay, too, and openly gay. He didn't discuss it in class
because it didn't have anything to do with English, but he did bring
friends to public functions and everyone knew. That might have included
Wayne, but Starner had discovered a long time ago that most students just
didn't care about their teachers' private lives.
	"Well, Wayne, you have until Monday to write that paper," Starner
said.
	"Jeremiah..."
	"That's `Professor Starner' to you, Wayne," he cut the athlete
off. "I can sympathize, but the assignment is the assignment. "If you can't
do it, come up with a second worst fear."
	"That's being dropped from this college because of my grades, hence
my being `cut from the team' fear," Wayne explained.
	"That's why you received a `C' because you couldn't articulate your
fear," Starner said.
	Wayne's face scrunched at "articulate". Starner sighed.
	"Find it in a dictionary, Wayne," he said.
	"But you're gay," Wayne protested, hoping for sympathy that way.
	"Wrong tact," Starner immediately stopped Wayne. "Yes, I'm gay, but
I'm your professor, and I demand you do the work, and do it well. You'd be
a `B' student in my class if you'd just use the tools in your computer word
program.
	"Your paper is due Monday, your worst fear, and nothing you can do
or say is going to change my mind."
	Wayne sat and pouted a bit. When Starner said nothing more, Wayne
stood, gave Starner a deep look, then left.
	A few minutes later, Tracy's paper title slid under the door.

	Monday morning, Starner was greeted with papers in envelopes from
the department secretary.
	"Fear of getting STDs because I'm sexually active."
	"My worst fear is I'll die of cancer like every woman in my
family."
	"I fear you'll fail me because my worst fear IS not being
fashionable" With the sub-head of "My mother is a designer and my gay dad
is a model."
	"Screw this. I don't need the grade."
	More than three-fourths of the students had turned in early work,
and Tracy had submitted an outline. Nothing from Wayne.
	Starner headed to his first class, 8 a.m. He'd hated these when he
was a student, and still disliked them. Second class was 9 a.m., then 10
a.m., then a nice break until the 2 p.m. class.
	Always arriving early, Starner found more enveloped papers, just
about everyone in the class.
	By 2 p.m., he had just 3 students in the room: Tim, Michelle and
Wayne.
	"Did I miss something?" Starner asked, surveying the room.
	Tim held up Starner's class schedule, and Starner remembered he'd
not scheduled class for today.
	"I'm sorry, students," he said. "Just hand me your papers, and go."
	Tim and Michelle were gone in seconds, leaving Wayne, who Starner
now noticed wasn't wearing his signature white t-shirt.
	Wayne handed two papers to the professor.
	The top one was titled "My worst fear is my teammates are more
homophobic than my dad". Starner made a mental note to give Wayne a copy of
Starner's page on how to write up titles, then looked at the second paper.
	"My real worst fear is my professor won't have sex with me"
	Starner looked up. "You just flunked my class, Wayne."
	"What?!?!"
	"You're no longer my student. I'll handle your transfer to Doctor
Milo's classes," Starner said, no looking up, but writing on a sticky
note. "Doctor Pamela Milo and I have very similar work plans, and you'll
need this for her class." He handed the first paper back, the sticky note
on top. "You're lucky she and I work closely together so you won't have to
retake the semester."
	He stood and walked from the room, leaving Wayne stunned.
	He read the sticky note – "I'll be in my office until 3 p.m."

	Wayne received no response to his knock on Starner's office
door. He tried again, and again nothing.
	He tried the knob, which didn't turn, but the door opened when he
pushed.
	It was dark. It was a quarter `til. He stepped inside, and decided
to close the door and wait in the dark.
	The door clicked hard when it shut.
	"Overcome your fear, Wayne," Starner said in the
darkness. "Overcome your fear."

	To be continued...

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Master Terra D
masterterradil@yahoo.com