interested,” Owen said fluctuating between stammering and excitement.
“I think I know what us means now,” replied Collin, “and if I can help anyone, I’d be glad to. There are lounging benches placed around the foyer. I’ll meet you out there in a few minutes, if that’s all right with you.”
“Good” said Owen, obviously pleased. “I’ll wait for you.”
Collin, now left alone, approached the area where Professor Yates stood talking to a student. There was one other student still waiting. Mr Yates had been putting them through about one every two minutes. He glanced at Collin approaching the area. The student with whom he had been talking was breaking away with the usual courtesies. The next student stepped up. Professor Yates engrossed himself in a lengthy conversation with him. Two minutes passed, three, four, five. Collin had experienced this before. He looked at his watch and thought of leaving.
On second thought though, he decided to stay and ride it out. At least he would stay long enough to be sure whether this delay was a coincidence or a standoff. His wondering about which it would be was soon answered. The conversation between the professor and the other student continued for about two minutes longer. Meanwhile Collin stood his ground, giving the impression he intended to stay in there. Looking at his watch, the professor sent the student on his way and Collin stepped up to him immediately.
“What do you want?” Professor Yates asked disdainfully and curtly of Collin, with emphasis on the you.
Collin braced himself, as he had done on many similar occasions. In fact he was able to handle such a situation so well now, that no notice of shock to his system was visible. “Just thought I would discuss some aspects of the course with you,” replied Collin in a calm and friendly tone that also seemed to say by its inference, Well for what other reason would I be here?
The Professor glared at Collin intensely and silently.
I could ride out that glare too,” Collin thought to himself, but then I know what it would lead to eventually; a complaint to the department head about me, a wayward student. Instead, he looked at his wrist watch, and then at Professor Yates, “Of course, if there is no time left, we can skip it. I’m sure the questions I have to ask will be answered as the lectures go by.”
“Yes”, said the professor, emphatically, lifting his shoulders a little, as if by the face saving opportunity Collin had just given him he was now in control again. “I’m sure they will, and time is running out.” He turned and began to pick up the papers from his desk and place them in his briefcase.
Collin bade him good night in a courteous manner and turned to leave the room. There was no reply. It had been a standoff indeed, from the beginning. Collin left the room, casually and unhurriedly, and went out to look for Owen Winslow.
As he entered the foyer, he didn’t have to look far to find Owen who now bounded towards him half smiling, half excited. The two met a safe distance from the lecture room door.
“You’ll have to excuse me for being so forward,” remarked Owen in a subdued voice, “for I did snoop on your meeting with Professor Yates, from a distance that is. I couldn’t hear the conversation, but the reaction was obvious, even from such a distance.”
“Come” replied Collin, “let’s go across the foyer a piece and have a seat, and we’ll see what it is you have in mind about ‘us’. In my whole life, you’re the first one I’ve met who has been so open about this matter.”
The two proceeded to an empty bench. Other students were scattered throughout, going and coming, talking, standing and sitting.
“I’m very sorry to be bothering you so this evening,” remarked Owen, “but I do think you can help us; you see we have a support group of fine cultured people, as we call them, formed here under the auspices of the Student Health and Counseling Services of this University.”
“Uh-ah” Collin answered disinterestedly, “that’s years behind me.”
“That’s what I expected, Collin, and that’s just the point,” Owen continued to press, “but you’ve make the grade. Our support group is made up of people like you, only much younger, who haven’t yet made the grade. You can help them I’m sure.”
Collin chuckled as he answered, “yea, I’ve made the grade. You saw what happened in the lecture room this evening.”
“But,” said Owen eagerly, “you did become a clergyman. I cannot help but surmise, judging from what happened this evening, that the going for you has been difficult at times, but you did make it, didn’t you?”
“Well, yes, after a fashion I suppose I did make it,” replied Collin. “Are you the overseer of the group?”
“I’m the facilitator, I got it together, but a psychiatrist from the Student Health and Counseling Services oversees all our meetings.”
“Ugh,” responded Collin. “Much to my regret, in my younger years I had an ugly experience with a couple of psychiatrists, and after that, brief encounters with two or three others, till, with God’s help, I took my life back into my own hands. I have no desire to be involved with them again, not for my particular life experiences.”
Owen’s exuberance faltered as he said in a disappointed tone, “Aw, I’m sorry I bothered you with this.”
Collin was moved by Owen’s disappointment. “Okay,” he said, more cheerfully, “we’ll say I made the grade. What can I do to help? Would you explain your support group further?”
Owen became obviously happy. “We meet once a week,” he said, “room 405, of this building- just one floor up. We meet under the guidance of Dr. Eldren, a retired psychiatrist who offers his services to the Student Health and Counseling Services, no connection to the Psychology Department. You won’t have to worry about Professor Yates. Dr. Eldren is a very mature, understanding and friendly man - no problem for you there, I’m sure. Would you, I wonder, come along to the meeting tomorrow evening at seven? Dr. Eldren will explain the purpose of the group much better than I. Will you come?”
“Psychiatrists are years behind me,” responded Collin, “but you’ve aroused my curiosity so much that I’m all ears. Will it be all right with Dr. Eldren if I come along to the meeting?”
“I feel sure it will,” said Owen with renewed enthusiasm, “but I will contact him tomorrow and let him know about you.”
Collin asked of Owen further, “How does your wife fit into this, or are you married?”
“I’m not married yet,” said Owen, with a twinkle, “but I have my eye on a fine woman at present. She is a member of our support group. She seems to like me too.”
“I see,” responded Collin. “My wife won’t want to be attending the meetings, but she may accompany me on the drive here occasionally, and wait for me at the library. She has done things like that with me before. Anyway, please phone me by five o’clock tomorrow evening, and confirm that it will be in order for me to be present,” said Collin as he reached into his pocket for a business card containing his phone number and gave it to Owen.
The two shook hands, exchanged parting courtesies, and separated, Owen heading for the stairs to floor four, Collin taking the elevator to floor one and the door out into the street.
I may
