(by Edward Zeusgany, copyright 2000, all rights reserved)

As the chief academic officer of the University, it was not unusual for the Provost to receive inquiries about present or former faculty members being considered for grants from, or employment by, prestigious organizations. What was unexpected, was that a high ranking official of the Ford Foundation should be asking about Emeritus Professor Robert Heston. The Provost remembered the man, because the President’s office had sustained a grievance filed by Heston. He had charged that the Provost, among others, had violated the faculty union contract, during the Professor’s review for promotion. Although the second review had vindicated the Provost, by confirming the decision originally reached; the Provost did not appreciate the rebuke from the President regarding the importance of following proper processes.

The letter from Ford was vague as to why Prof. Heston was under consideration. They wanted general information on the quality of his work, previous grants that he had received, and his character. The Provost reviewed the Professor’s file before drafting his reply.

Prof. Heston had seven grants while at the University, the last from the Fulbright Commission. There had been no hint of impropriety in his management of these contracts. Some people in the United Kingdom and in the States had been critical of his work on the Fulbright grant, but no one had suggested that he had not completed the contract.

Outside reviewers had examined Prof. Heston’s record when he was considered for promotion. One of these wrote that Prof. Heston, “… had produced a very small number of writings which have not appeared either widely or in prestigious publications. His work, though interesting and potentially useful, is limited in scope, detached from related work, and not particularly scholarly, either empirically or theoretically.” The Provost had used this quote in his letter denying promotion. Even if the content was not entirely true, if anyone were to be sued, it would be the reviewer.

The Provost wrote an innocuous letter of response, giving slight praise to Prof. Heston, “He served the University for twenty-four years.” He was sure that the Ford Foundation would take this as a negative recommendation, but just to be sure, he ended with, “We regret that his record did not warrant promotion from associate professor to professor, during his active service. In accordance with University police, he received his promotion upon retirement.” Should they want further information he suggested that they communicate with Prof. Hastings, the head of the program where Prof. Heston was assigned.

When the woman from the Ford Foundation called, Prof. Hastings tried to discover what their interest in Bob Heston was. “If you’re considering him for a position, I’m sure I could suggest someone more appropriate,” he said. If it were a grant, then perhaps the current faculty in the program would better suit them than a single retired professor. “I can’t make a proper recommendation, if I don’t know what he is being considered for,” he complained.

The caller parried these probes by returning to her questions. Somewhat frustrated, Prof. Hastings told her that Prof. Heston had not been a team player, that he insisted in doing things his own way and would not listen to advice. As a result, he had not been able to recommend Prof. Heston’s courses to his students. He said that Prof. Heston had not been professionally active. He hadn’t even attended the national convention of their primary professional association in the last eight years, and he had seldom come to the biweekly seminars that were sponsored by his own program.

When asked why Prof. Heston had retired early, Prof. Hastings said that was a decision he admired. “Given that he was unwilling to do what was wanted of him, he did the right thing by leaving. Of course, he could afford to retire, since he isn’t a family man.” When pressed on what he meant by the last remark, Prof. Hastings would only say, that as a single person, Prof. Heston did not have the sort of responsibilities and financial obligations that most men would have.

Prof. Heston arrived early at the Lord Jeffery Inn, so he went into the large first floor sitting room, that was to the left of the lobby. He sat down on one of two facing coaches that flanked a rectangular low table, the end of which pointed to an imposing fireplace, unusual for having a small, six pane window in the right upper corner of its blackened brick back wall. A Federal shelf clock stood on the mantle. To the left of the fireplace was an alcove formed by a bay window, where a baby grand piano sat, also waiting. The windows, containing 20 over 20 panes of glass, were swag and jabot draped. On the wall facing him, hung a large portrait of Lord Jeffery Amherst in the red coat of his military career, when he led the British against the Indian warriors.

Prof. Heston was not entirely comfortable with having accepted Parmly’s invitation to dinner at the Inn. It wasn’t the expense that bothered him. Parmly had told him that he had quite a bit of money, although he had not said how much. For all his youth, Parmly was no child, as Prof. Heston had come to appreciate over the last few weeks. If Parmly said that he could afford the Lord Jeff, then he could. His discomfort stemmed from his not knowing where all this might be leading.

On one hand, he thoroughly enjoyed the boy’s company. But he was becoming attached to him. He thought that Parmly might be gay, but it was hard to tell with sixteen year-olds. Many were sweet, but led mainly heterosexual lives. Surely Parmly could find some girl, or some boy near his own age, and would not have much time for the funny, middle-aged professor. He should distance himself a little, so as not to be hurt when this happened. To refuse to accept the return of hospitality, however, would be to treat Parmly other than as an equal. That, he would not do.

Parmly found Prof. Heston in the sitting room, staring into space, as he so often did, lost in thought. The movement had awakened the Professor and he noted that Parmly must have already left his coat in the cloak room. It was quite cold outside, normal for the first Friday evening in November. Parmly smiled as Prof. Heston stood to greet him. They went immediately to the dining room.

The menu was very limited. There were three appetizers, two soups, no salad section, and six entrees. Except for the cream of brie soup, all of the selections were traditional American dishes. Parmly ordered the spinach salad appetizer to be followed by poached salmon. Prof. Heston chose service of salmon, followed by rack of lamb. At Parmly’s insistence, Prof. Heston ordered wine, a half bottle of Margeaux. The matre d’ took their order and brought the wine. A waiter unobtrusively delivered a basket of very hot poppy seed rolls and a pot of butter.

They were both pleased with the preparation of the food and with the service. Both were superb. The former was the primary topic of conversation, that and the lack of other patrons. There were only five other small parties in a large, square dining room containing about forty tables. Theirs was at a window overlooking the back courtyard, where drinks would be served in the summer months.

Prof. Heston related to Parmly, stories of various times that he had been at the Inn. When they were about finished with the meal, Parmly put his hand on top of Prof. Heston’s and told him that he had engaged rooms at the Inn and that he wanted Prof. Heston to join him there for cognac and coffee. It was the first time that they had touched.

They had been having a wonderful time. Prof. Heston was feeling mellow from the wine, the food, the agreeable conversation, the gentle touch of Parmly’s hand, his sweet smile and tone of voice. What might have flabbergasted him under other circumstances, did not. He accepted.

Parmly signed the check and they went up. He had a two room suite. A sitting room and, behind a closed door, a bedroom, so Prof. Heston supposed. Parmly asked Prof. Heston to call room service and order for them both. “It is absurd, that in America, I can’t have wine with my dinner or a liquor after,” he said. After Prof. Heston had made the call, Parmly went into the other room, saying, “I’ll just be a minute.”

Prof. Heston tipped the waiter, who brought the tray. When Parmly returned, he was wearing silk pajamas and slippers. Prof. Heston, stunned, rose from his chair. Parmly went to him, put his arms around Prof. Heston’s neck, and kissed him sweetly and gently on the lips. Prof. Heston’s arms went around the slender body, his finger tips in the grove formed by Parmly’s backbone.

“I want you to come to bed with me, “ Parmly said.

Prof. Heston wanted to say, “ I hope you know what you’re doing,” but Parmly always knew what he was doing. What would be the point of such a question? So, instead, he replied, “I’d like to.”

“Bring the tray in,” Parmly requested.

Prof. Heston found sex with Parmly to be like a swim in a cool pond on a warm summer day. It was luxurious, quiet, peaceful, satisfying. Of course, everything they did was safe.

Waking in the middle of the night, Prof. Heston became aware that he was alone in the bed. He wrapped a towel around his middle and opened the door to the sitting room. Parmly was there in a chair, dressed in his beautiful pajamas, slowly turning the pages of a book. He looked up and smiled.

“Can’t you sleep?” Prof. Heston asked.

“I don’t usually sleep more than a half hour at a time,” Parmly replied. “But I have several little naps each day.”

“So, you’re studying.”

“Yes. But I could take a break?”

It was Prof. Heston’s turn to smile. They went back to bed. Prof. Heston tried to think up new things to do with Parmly, who seemed to like innovation and variety. Prof. Heston was the initiator; Parmly the cooperator, moving his body to accommodate the plan, as soon as he understood what it was.

“I have the rooms for the weekend. Will you stay with me?”

Prof. Heston looked up from nibbling on a nipple. “How could I go?” he answered.

“I had hoped that I had driven my arrow in so far the you would have to stay.”

“We have a lot to talk about, then,” Prof. Heston said.

“In the morning,” Parmly replied.

“Yes, in the morning.”

“I have a pet name for you.”

“Oh?”

“Uncle Andrew. Would it be all right if I call you that?”

“Why that name?”

“Well, you don’t want me to call you, ‘Prof. Heston,’ and I don’t feel right calling you, ‘Bob,’ and your middle name is Andrew. That nickname just feels good to me, I’ve been using it in my mind for days now.”

“I guess I’m your Uncle Andrew then,” he capitulated, and kissed Parmly on his closed eye lids, over and over, from felt to right and back again.

On Sunday, Parmly announced that he wanted to keep the two rooms on a permanent basis. Prof. Heston objected that it would be huge expense, and he had a perfectly good house in the country that they could use.

“The income from my trust fund is over ten million a year,” Parmly countered. “The cost of staying here is trivial. If we live at your place, I would be spending an hour a day commuting. And you would have to make the trip twice a day, unless I hired a car and driver.”

“I don’t mind being your chauffeur.”

“But I do. Here, the campus is right next door. And it will be a lot more convenient for us to get together during the day whenever we want to. That is what the money if for, so we can do what we want and not be inconvenienced. Do me a favor and stay here with me. Please?”

“But I can’t afford to pay my share.”

“Would you have charged me, if we lived together at your house?” there was a pause, Prof. Heston was silent. “No, I didn’t think so,” Parmly continued.

Later that day, they went together to the front desk of the Inn. “I’ve convinced my Uncle Andrew to stay in Amherst and take care of me,” Parmly told the assistant manager. “Will there be any difficulty in our keeping the rooms?”

“Nothing that can’t be managed,” she said.

Parmly had the rooms put in both of their names. Prof. Heston signed the registration card using both his first and middle name.

*****

Walter deForrest received a note from Parmly Billings inviting him and a guest to dinner with Parmly and his Uncle Andrew at Prof. Heston’s rooms at the Lord Jeffery Inn on Thursday evening at 7:30, R.S.V.P. Walter sought out Parmly in order to ask him about the invitation. Parmly had told Walter about the amusing little retired professor from the University, whom Parmly had met. Walter had seen them together on campus a few times. He was curious as to how this person had become, “Uncle Andrew.”

He found Parmly at the library. First, he thanked Parmly for the invitation. Walter could see that his friend was very happy about something. “The Professor isn’t really your Uncle, is he?” Walter finally asked.

Parmly smiled enigmatically, “There isn’t any reason for anyone here not to think so, except for you.”

“You plan to see a lot of him, then.”

“A great deal.”

“If people see you together often enough, they may catch on.”

“I don’t care if they do. People of quality will know that it’s none of their business and it doesn’t matter what the rest think. You will come wont you, to dinner?”

“Of course, I’m looking forward to meeting him.”

“Will you bring a date?”

“Yes, but I don’t know who. That will need some thought.”

“A boy or a girl?”

Walter blushed, “A girl, Parmly,” this said with finality.

“Have you never thought about men?”

“Well, hardly ever.”

“Thank you, Gilbert and Sullivan. You’re an honest man, Walter.”

“I try. And I’m your friend, too, Parmly.”

“I know that, Walter, and I appreciate it. That’s why you are our first guest.”

“Your seem to be very serious about Uncle Andrew.”

“I am.”

He is a lot older than you,”

“True enough.”

“How do you know he wont leave you as soon as you are older?”

“I don’t, but his last relationship was with a man only three years younger then himself. That lasted fifteen years.”

“He told you that?”

“No, I had him checked out.”

“You did?”

“There are all sorts of unscrupulous people around. I had to be sure.”

After careful consideration, Walter asked Erica Lyon to accompany him to dinner with Parmly and Uncle Andrew. Like himself. Erica was in her junior year and the child of a family that had been wealthy for generations, but she also had solid intellectual abilities. Walter thought that she and Parmly might get along well together, and that would take some of the pressure off him. Walter’s knowledge tended to be limited to the area of finance, whereas Parmly had many interests.

Walter proved to be correct. Most of the conversation was between Erica and Parmly. He and Prof. Heston made occasional contributions. Nevertheless, it was a pleasant dinner, served in one of the little dining rooms that could be reserved for private parties. Walter felt a little glow of wellbeing as he and Erica walked back to campus.

Erica said that she had enjoyed herself. Then she asked, “Did you notice how affectionate Parmly and his Uncle were toward each other?”

“Parmly says that he’s his favorite uncle.”

“Even so, all the little pats on the hand, the looks and smiles, the, ‘Would you care for …,’ this or that.”

“They do seem fond of one another.”

“You don’t think there is anything incestuous going on, do you?”

“Oh, I’m sure not,” Walter said with the sort of conviction that is based on certainty.

Erica laughed. “I’m pulling your leg, silly. I know that Prof. Heston is not Parmly’s uncle.”

“How do you know that?”

“Parmly’s mother was a Putnam.”

“Oh!”

“Well, they are the most interesting people around. Parmly’s fascinating all by himself, but with ‘Uncle Andrew’ … It’s sweet of you to be protective of them, Walter. I think so much more of you, because of it.” Erica put her arm through his. “I’m so glad that you asked me to go with you.”