Straight Man

The Tracks is howlingand applauding, and Missy makes me stand up and take a bow. She locates my spare nose and glasses and makes me put these on so everyone can see it’s the same guy.
    When Dickie Pope, the campus executive officer, and Jack Proctor, our local representative, come on, neither looks amused, but whatever they are saying is drowned out by a chorus of boos. They are only on for about ten seconds, before the producer cuts to the studio news team, dissolved in laughter before they go to another commercial, and another cheer goes up in the bar. I am a hero, it seems.
    To celebrate, I make another trip to the men’s room.
    When I return, the clams are gone and Tony Coniglia, salt-and-pepper hair astir, is dancing with Missy to a hard-driving rock and roll song, the refrain of which goes, “Gimme gimme some lovin’.” They appear to be shouting this at each other, though they can’t hear above the pounding music. Tony, I can’t help noticing, has more range on the dance floor than he does on the racquetball court. In fact, to look at him now, you’d never guess he requires a handicap to be competitive. You’d think he’d be giving
me
points.
    I see that Teddy and June have joined the revelers at our table, which strikes me as unaccountable until I remember phoning and telling them to watch the news. I don’t recall telling them where I was calling from, but I must have, because here they are. They receive me as a hail-fellow, slapping me on the back. “I always knew you had it in you,” Teddy says, his expression a mix of fear and admiration. Like most academics, he is fascinated by childish, unprofessional conduct. It’s been a long time since he’s behaved outrageously, and he’s half jealous and half glad it’s me and not him. June too seems to be looking at me differently, as though she’s suspected for some time that my reputation as a semi-outrageous and unpredictable character, at least by modest academic standards, was undeserved. “It was great,” she admits. “The look on that duck’s face was priceless.”
    Any new respect I may have gained in June’s eyes, however, is lost when Tony Coniglia arrives from the dance floor with a pretty young woman. Tony and June go way back, and June doesn’t bother to conceal her contempt. This fall, the student magazine she advises printeda strong, unsigned editorial accusing several professors, identified by department, not name, of being sexual predators. One biology professor, it claimed, had a history of treating his classes as “a pool of potential sexual partners.”
    “
Goose’s
face,” Tony corrects her good-humoredly. He never responded, publicly or privately, to the magazine article, and there’s something in the tone of his voice now that suggests that he might have corrected every statement in the piece just as effortlessly. With a gallant flourish, he pulls out Missy Blaylock’s chair for her, as if to suggest that his most egregious human flaw may be an excess of charm. Missy’s upper lip is dewy from exertion, and there’re the beginnings of dark circles beneath her arms.
    “It was a goose,” Tony continues. “Who but an English professor would threaten to kill a duck a day and hold up a goose as an example?”
    “Duck, goose,” Missy says. “Same idea.”
    Tony throws up his hands.
    “Well, it is,” Missy insists.
    “How come nobody cares about facts anymore?” Tony wonders. “Whatever happened to accuracy? That used to be considered a virtue. Along with fair play.”
    Missy apparently concludes that Tony is making these observations to her, which is understandable, since he’s making eyes at her as he speaks. “I don’t know how to be fair to a goose,” she confesses.
    “By not calling it a duck,” Tony explains, as if to a child.
    Teddy must think it’s a good idea to change the subject, because he says, “Too bad Lily’s not here.”
    We all look at him.
    “What?” he insists, mostly to me, since I’m chuckling.
    “I don’t get it,” Missy Blaylock says.
    “Teddy’s got a crush on Hank’s wife, Lily,” Tony Coniglia explains happily. “He wishes she were here.”
    In the time it takes to say these few words, all the blood in Teddy’s body locates in his face.
    “Isn’t
she
his wife?” Missy says, indicating June with her thumb.
    Tony shrugs, admits this is true. “For some reason, he prefers Hank’s.”
    Missy leans forward to examine June, but without Lily for comparison, she