Chapter 5
I found the small office that was going to be mine for the semester and dropped off my things before heading to the classroom, where a few students were already waiting. It was a fairly large classroom with auditorium-type seating. In the corner of the room sat a parlor grand piano, while a large whiteboard and an extended desk stretched across the front.
I had mapped out my lesson plans for the semester with a little bit of help from Sarah, who had given me some pointers. I started writing a few highlights from the syllabus on the board and waited for everyone to get seated. The nerves and self-doubt started setting in, wondering if I really could do this, but I pushed them away. The worst that could happen was that I lose this job, which paled in comparison to the realities of what I was facing with my mom.
“Hello, everyone,” I said, walking up to the front of the room to face them. “I’m Hadley Olivier, and this is Music Composition 101.”
“Mommy!” one of the guys in the back of the room shouted, sinking lower into his seat as his friends beside him burst into laughter.
“Oh, I’m sorry, you must be in the wrong room. This is music composition, not psychotherapy for out-of-control oedipal complexes,” I retorted and the whole room erupted in laughter.
“What’s your name?” I asked as he sat up a little straighter, knowing he was busted.
“John-Luke,” he replied, grinning smugly. He looked like the son of a politician, with perfectly quaffed hair and a button-down polo shirt.
“How biblical.” I walked over to that side of the room. “Let’s try and keep the outbursts to a minimum, John-Luke. I’d hate to have any more Freudian slip-and-falls on my watch.”
He gave me the same cocky grin. “I’ll try, but I can’t make any promises, Teach.”
“Do give it your best effort,” I said with a wry smile. “Mommy has a lot of work to do. And if you’re on your best behavior, I’ll let you go play frisbee golf when we’re done.”
His friends were laughing and elbowing him, but he didn’t say anything further so I moved on.
“So, unlike a lot of people around here, I do not have a doctorate degree. But what I do have is a lot of real-world experience in writing and composition.” I did have a Master of Fine Arts degree from Northwestern and had some pretty great internships, but I found that terribly boring, so I decided I was going to speak from the heart when giving introductions about myself.
“What I love most about composing music is the infinite possibilities.” I thought of what Frank Zappa once said about composition. “There’s something exciting about being given a piece of time, and you get to be the one to decorate it.”
I looked around the room, and I seemed to have everyone’s attention, despite frat boy’s outburst. “Throughout this course, I’ll be giving you the vocabulary necessary to speak the same language as those who are already in this business, but beyond knowing the parlance, you’ll only be limited by your own creativity. So, let’s get started.”
I spent the next hour going over some introductory topics and tried to give real-world examples of where these things might apply, hoping it would have a greater impact. At some point though, I could see their attention drifting. Heads were resting sideways on fists, and there were one too many glazed looks on the sea of faces.
I abruptly stopped mid-sentence on my explanation of ledger lines and blurted out, “My god, you all look bored out of your minds.”
They all started to chuckle and straightened up in their chairs.
“Why don’t we change things up a bit?” I looked around and my attention focused on a young man sitting by himself midway up the auditorium. He had a kind face that resembled Chidi from The Good Place .
“You there,” I said, pointing to him. “What’s your name?”
He looked around to make sure it was really him I was speaking to, before deciding that I must be, since there was clearly no one else around him.
“Sam Matherne,” he replied shyly.
I smiled encouragingly. “Sam, tell me what kind of music you like.”
“Ummm… rhythm and blues.”
“Nice,” I said. “Who’s your favorite artist?”
He pushed his glasses up his nose.“I don’t think you’ve heard of him.”
“Can you check your watch for me?” I eyed the Apple watch on his wrist.
“Why?” he asked, looking down at it.
“I just want to know how many calories you burned jumping to that conclusion.”
He looked up, grinning from ear to ear.
“Why don’t you try me?” I said confidently.
“Eddie Kirkland,” he answered.
I grinned back at him before I sat down at the piano and started playing one of the few Eddie Kirkland songs I knew. Luckily, he had come up in my graduate thesis work so I got to show off a bit.
Sam could not wipe the smile from his face as I played“Meet Me on Sugar Hill”and sang along. I looked around to see I had piqued everyone’s interest. I broke down the composition of the song piece by piece, going over basic rhythm patterns and harmonic intervals. I got a thrill out of seeing them scribbling furiously on their little notepads. Did I just crack the code to teaching? I decided to try again.
“What about you, John-Luke?” I asked when I noticed he was chatting with his neighbor and not paying attention. “What kind of music do you like?”
He gave me an arrogant smile. “Yeah, music’s not really my thing, Ms. Olivier.”
That answer took me by surprise. “You really are in the wrong classroom.”
“Some of us have to be here,” he countered. “For some reason, the University of Stanford thinks a music course is necessary for my law degree.”
I turned and started to play the theme song for Law and Order as a chorus of laughter rang out. “A lawyer, huh? You plan to put the bad guys away?”
“I plan to defend them,” he said, smirking.
S hould have known .
I played the infamous dun-dun sound from the Law and Order scene starter, and he smiled despite himself.
“Well, there must be a reason you chose composition instead of another introductory course,” I said, trying again to make a connection.
Another cocky grin played across his face. “Yeah, I heard the teacher was hot.”
The kids were all trying to hide their faces or cover up their laughter with coughing, but it was no use. Eventually, the whole room was shaking with laughter.
“Alright, alright, settle down.” I shook my head. I needed to get this lesson back on track before I had Chris Hansen walking through the door on my first day.
A curious thought suddenly came to my mind. “So, who here is actually a music major?”
I don’t know why I never considered the fact that some of them might not even be interested in music. I looked around to see only about half the class had their hands raised. Now I just felt foolish for assuming they were all music majors. I went to a performing arts college so I’d always been surrounded by people in the same field of study. A very obnoxious teacher-esque idea suddenly sprang to my mind, but I was going for it.
“I just had a great idea, ladies and gentlemen!” I bounced on the balls of my feet excitedly. “I want all of you to pair up in groups of two or three to compose one single song, any genre. The catch is the group has to have at least one non-music major in it, and I want your composition to be about whatever it is that person is majoring in. I’ll monitor each group’s progress weekly and give feedback. It will count toward your final grade for the semester.”
There were audible groans and sighs as they looked around the auditorium, starting to size each other up. I knew what a pain in the ass group projects could be, but I was actually excited by this. I dismissed the class for the day before any real complaining could start up.
◆◆◆
“I guess it goes without saying this hasn’t been the best first day so far,” Sarah said as I met her outside the cafeteria for lunch. I had told her all about the morning I’d had, including the car breakdown and my biblical heckler.
“I don’t know.” I half-shrugged. “I think I made my point to polo shirt. And as far as the car goes, I’m counting myself lucky that someone was still there this morning that I was able to catch a ride from. Marge was on her deathbed. I should have looked into getting something sooner.”
I still needed to call a tow company to come pick up poor Marge. I was hit with a twinge of sadness at the thought of having to part with her.It was always a hassle to own a car in New York City, but I never even considered giving her up. My mom could never bring herself to sell Dad’s car and had kept it in a garage all these years. She gave it to me when I was old enough to drive, and I loved taking her out on the weekends. It was like a private getaway each time I got behind the wheel. I could drown out the noise of the city and let my brain be as creative as possible. Ironically, some of my best pieces of music had come about just through being silent and meditative.There was nothing I loved more than driving in complete and total silence—no music, no books on tape, no talking whatsoever. The white noise of tires moving along asphalt combined with the motion of the car always put me at ease and dissolved any tension I might be feeling.
“So, how was it being up close and personal with Alexsander the Great?” Sarah asked, interrupting my thoughts.
“It was okay, I guess. He didn’t say a whole lot,” I said, remembering his standoffish demeanor. “Honestly, I don’t think he likes me very much.”
“Ahhh, the shoulder tap thing.” I had filled Sarah in on what happened with Benson at faculty night. She’d laughed her ass off when I told her about the Dr. Dre joke.
“It wasn’t even me!” I protested. “Maybe I should tell him that.” It was pretty rude. I think I’d be annoyed if someone did that to me while I was mid-sentence.
“Oh, who cares? He sounds stuck up if that’s really what’s bothering him.”
“Maybe. But I think I need to make nice anyway. We might be seeing a lot of each other. We’re neighbors, after all.”
She shook her head. “I can’t even picture it. Seems like they’d put him up in a chateau or something, not faculty housing.”
“Don’t hate. They’re actually pretty nice.”
“You’re just saying that because you lucked out and don’t have to share it with a roommate.”
She might be right about that. On my drive over from New York, someone from the Faculty Advisor’s Office called to let me know that my almost-roommate failed her background check, and they were unable to fill the vacancy last minute, which left me sans roommate. I had been disappointed at first until I saw the size of the upstairs bathroom we were meant to share.
“Did I tell you about Lex’s roommate?” I asked her.
“Lex? You call him Lex?”
“He asked me to. What’s so weird about that?”
“I don’t know. It’s the way you said it.”
“How did I say it?”
“Like you’ve seen him naked.”
Just as I was about to tell her she was nuts, I got distracted by who I spotted over her shoulder walking toward us with a man I’d never seen before.
“Well, if it isn’t Betty,” Stuart said with a sly grin. “We meet again.”
“Yeah, long time no see,” I smiled at him and his friend, who looked like he was breaking out in a cold sweat.
“Hey, I’m Hadley,” I said, introducing myself to his friend.
“Hi, my Peter… Shit… I uh, what I meant was my name is Pete… Peter, actually. But my friends call me Pete. Whichever you want, really.”
“Jesus, Pete.” Stuart slapped his palm across his face and let it slide off his chin.
“This is my friend, Sarah,” I said, chuckling. “Sarah, this is Dr. Strovinski’s roommate—”
“Stuart Benowitz,” she finished before I got the chance. “We’ve met.”
“You have?” I asked, perplexed.
Stuart’s eyes darted around as he fidgeted with his watch.
“Yep. On faculty night right before you got there,” Sarah said, fixing him with a steely glare. “He asked me what department I worked in and when I told him music and performing arts, he said he wasn’t surprised because I looked like a work of fine art.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Nice. Very original.”
He put his hands up. “Okay, in my defense… it’s a really easy connection.”
“Not very clever,” I chastised.
“Oh c’mon. What should I have said? ‘Hi, I’m Stuart. I saw you from across the room, and I thought you were very beautiful.’”
“Uhhhh, yeah. That’s perfect, actually,” Sarah said.
“Please. That wouldn’t have worked either. You barely glanced up from your phone when I first said hello.”
“That’s because I was waiting on my college roommate here, who I hadn’t seen in over a decade, to call me so I could go meet her,” Sarah said defensively.
His brow lifted. “You guys were roommates?”
“Not the same kind of roommates as you and Lex,” I said with an exaggerated wink.
He shot me a disparaging look. “Lex should be so lucky. I’ll have you know that I’ve had several women tell me that I’m the whole package, ladies,” he said with an arched brow.
“Your mom doesn’t count,” Pete retorted, and I fought to hold back my laughter. I guess the opportunity to rib Stuart allowed Pete to find his confidence again.
“Also, you could be the whole package, but you’re definitely at the wrong address,” Sarah added. With that comment, there was no silencing the laugh that escaped me.
“Give it up, man,” Peter said, slapping a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not going to happen.”
“I don’t remember asking for your opinion, Pete,” Stuart said, shrugging him off.
“You didn’t have to,” he quipped. “It’s on the house.”
“We were about to go in to grab lunch if you guys want to join us,” I said, interrupting their bickering.
“Sure,” Peter said quickly.
Stuart folded his arms across his chest. “I don’t know,” he said, pretending to be mulling it over.
“What’s the problem?” I asked.
“I’m not sure I should give you guys the unbelievable pleasure of my company after the treatment I’ve had to endure here today.”
“I wouldn’t play hard to get when I can tell you’re more hard to get rid of,” Sarah said impatiently. “Now drop the Pepé Le Pew act and come have lunch with us.”
She didn’t wait for his response as she marched into the cafeteria ahead of us. I heard Stuart mutter, “Fine!” under his breath as he followed behind her.
A smile stretched across Peter’s face as he turned to me. “I’d like to thank you both for this.” He placed his hand over his heart. “Putting Stuart in his place is not a service many provide, but one I’ll gladly pay for.”
I shook my head, chuckling. “No need. Our services are complimentary.”
We walked in behind the bustling crowd of students, making our way toward the serving station. I braved the chef’s special of the day, chicken marsala, which looked pretty decent, before joining the others at the table.
I took a seat next to Sarah. “So, where’s Lex?”
“Still working,” Stuart answered.
“Does he not eat lunch?”
“Actually, I think the boss man just periodically shuts down until we have time to put a little oil in him and get him plugged into a socket to recharge,” Peter answered, looking more relaxed now.
“Workaholic?” I inferred.
“That’s an understatement. He never stops.”
“Sounds like a tough person to work for.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Peter said thoughtfully.
“No?”
“There’s a reason we follow him all over the country.”
Besides being crazy smart, I wondered what else there was.
“His outgoing personality?” I teased.
“Not exactly,” he said, smiling. “He’s dedicated to his work but when you’re that gifted, it’s hard to shut your brain off. He works harder than anyone I’ve ever known, but it’s more inspiring than it is frustrating.”
I considered what he said and thought that was actually a nice sentiment. I would love to feel inspired by my superiors rather than creeped out.
“It’s all about helping the world to be a better place. He really does want to make a difference.”
“Yeah, well from what we’ve heard, you guys are saving the world and getting a huge budget to do it,” Sarah said. “Meanwhile, I have to go ten levels up the chain of command to get a new eraser, and I’m pretty sure my piano’s from 1985.”
“So, you guys both work in the music department?” Pete asked.
“Composition,” I answered.
“Musicology,” Sarah said.
Peter had a woeful look. “Damn, my mom was right. I should have stuck with those clarinet lessons.”
“Yeah, the music department’s hogging all the good-looking women,” Stuart said. “All we’ve got are AARP members and that chick that says “knock, knock” before entering every room.”
“Sounds like you’ll be able to stay more focused on your work while you’re, you know... working,” I pointed out.
“Wow, seems like Lex was able to join us for lunch after all,” he said, tone laden with sarcasm. “You sound just like him.”
I stuck my tongue out at him, and he gave me a wry smile in return.
“So, how was your first day teaching?” he asked, changing the subject.
I looked down at my food, pushing it around a bit. “It was okay.”
“Some kid tried to throw her off,” Sarah said, answering his questioning look at my lukewarm response.
“What’d he do?”
I waved him off. “Just yelled something inappropriate.”
It wasn’t even what he said. It was the fact that I clearly seemed like an easy target to them. Could they smell rookie on me? Darling little bloodhounds, trying to sniff out incompetence.
Stuart shook his head. “I can imagine.”
“What about you? When do you start your classes?” I asked, trying to divert the conversation.
“Not until Thursday.”
“And you’ll be teaching a neurobiology class?”
“No, I’m not technically a neurobiologist. Lex needed a chemist for his team, so that’s how I started working with him. After all these years, I’ve absorbed enough to get by, but my PhD is in chemistry, so that’s what I’ll be teaching.”
“And then what? You do your research on all the other days?”
“Yeah, we got started in the lab today.”
“What kind of research are you guys doing exactly?” Sarah asked.
“We’re trying to create an implantable device for Alzheimer’s patients to deliver medication to the affected segment of the brain to delay neuronal death and possibly even reverse it.”
“Wow, that’s pretty amazing,” Sarah said, and I nodded in agreement. “I hate to admit it, but you’re kind of impressive.”
“Yeah, I could barely pass basic algebra in high school,” I added.
He straightened with a hopeful gleam in his eye. “Wait, I did tell you guys I was single, didn’t I?”
He just couldn’t help himself.
Sarah used her hand as a fake phone and started to dial. She nodded at me to pick up.
I played along. “Hello?” I answered.
“The delusion’s coming from inside the house,” she whispered dramatically.
At that, I broke into a fit of laughter, with Peter joining in. Stuart just rolled his eyes, sagging back down in his chair.
When the laughter finally died down, I got an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. It took me a few minutes to identify what it was: guilt. Here I was, sitting around laughing and carrying on with my life, while my mom was going through one of the hardest times in her own life. She said this was what she wanted for me when we talked about moving here, but it still didn’t sit right with me.
As we got up from the table to leave, Stuart asked, “Betty, before I forget to ask, are you going to need a ride back home?”
“I can just take an Uber.” I didn’t want to burden anyone.
“I’ll take you. It’s on my way home,” Sarah offered, and I accepted.
“Great,” Stuart said. “Now I can officially report back that your transportation has been covered, and I can stop hearing about it.”
I wondered what he meant by that. Was he talking about Lex? It didn’t seem likely that he would care how I was getting home, but maybe he was just being courteous. I could picture the relief on his face when Stuart told him that he wouldn’t have to bother with me and could practice remaining as quiet as humanly possible.