Catch a Falling Knife

and worse. “At least you need a lawyer to discuss your defense with and to educate you on courtroom procedure, such as cross-examining your accuser.”
    Mark shook his head, morosely. “I can’t face my accuser.”
    “What about your constitutional rights?  What about trial by jury?”
    “Since Crescent Heights is a private school they make their own rules. The Bill of Rights doesn’t apply to them. And this is billed as an informal inquiry, not a legal procedure.”
    “But it can get you suspended.”
    “Or possibly fired.”
    “Did you know about this…policy when you went to work there?”
    “Yes, but I didn’t think I would have a problem. Besides, I needed the job.”
    Mark had completed work on his Ph.D. at the University of North Carolina last fall. His preference would have been to get a job at UNC, here in Chapel Hill, or Duke, in nearby Durham, where I had taught, but he wasn’t able to land a teaching position with either of them.
    “Do you at least know who filed the charges?”
    “Yes. But I can’t tell you.”
    “Can’t? Or won’t because you think I would make trouble.” I have not been known to sit idly by when things go wrong.
    “I’m under a gag order.”
    “I assume your accuser is a woman. At least you can tell me that.” Start with the basics.
    “Yes, a female student in my beginning Physics class.”
    Our waitress came and served the main course, halibut for me, a beef dish for Mark. We both took the fried apples, which were very good here; they smelled and tasted of cinnamon. I let Mark take a few bites of his food. He needed the nourishment. A disaster like this could end his teaching career almost before it started. But it wasn’t going to happen without a fight. Mark wasn’t a quitter, and besides, I wouldn’t let him give up. But first I had to find out what had happened between him and this…ungrandmotherly epithets came to me.
    I picked at my food, not eating much. Finally, I said, “Tell me as much as you can about this girl.”
    Mark finished chewing his mouthful. “She’s a sophomore. I believe she’s twenty. I think she’s bright, but she’s cut class a couple of times. The lecture is at eight o’clock and not all the students are early risers. At least once I noticed her sleeping in class.”
    “What does she look like?”
    “Like our waitress, only lighter.”
    He had noticed her. He wasn’t dead yet. “Lighter in weight or in color?”
    “She’s white.”
    “Rate the looks of this white girl on a scale from one to ten.”
    “That’s politically incorrect.”
    “Don’t make jokes, Mark. This is serious.”
    “She’s an eight, easily. She might be a nine, dressed up, especially later in the day.”
    That wasn’t good. The story of a beautiful girl was more likely to be believed than that of Raggedy Ann. Or was it? Perhaps the plain girls got more sympathy. “Tell me what happened between you two.”
    “Up until last week I had just answered questions for her in the lab. Of course I do that for everybody. But last week she came to my office.”
    “Lil, you didn’t tell us you were going to have dinner with Mark.” I looked up at Tess and Wesley, who had just come into the dining room together. Tess had an eye for younger men. I didn’t blame her; I do too. Since they both knew Mark, handshaking and air-kissing went on for several seconds.
    “So why are you keeping Mark all to yourself?” Tess persisted.
    I love Tess dearly, but sometimes she can be awfully nosy. “We’re talking about family matters,” I said, hoping she would go away.
    “Are there wedding bells in the future?”
Meaning between Mark and Sandra. I said, “I’ll tell you all about it later.”
Tess looked miffed, but at least Wesley could take a hint. He guided her to another table.
    “Where were we?” I asked, turning back to Mark. “Oh, yes, you were telling me about the time the white girl went to your office.”
    Mark collected himself. “She came in just as my office hours were ending.”
    “What was she wearing?”
    “Uh…jeans. And a sweater, I think. And a jacket. It’s still winter.” He paused.
    “Okay, go on. I won’t interrupt again.”
    “She came in and closed the door. I told her my office hours were over. She said she just had a quick question. I said I kept my door open when I had visitors.”
    “Especially female visitors.”
    “One of the tenured professors told me to do that. But she ignored the hint and sat down.”
    I