Chat0yant wrote:
I never see the principal at school anymore.
That might sound normal for a college, but my tiny school in my tiny New England town was far too minuscule to fit concepts like “normal.” The couple hundred students on campus who were stuck in this tiny, bleak town had no chance to complain, just as they had none to move away to a city with a respectable population number.
My thoughts continued to whine about nothing as I sat outside the English teacher’s office waiting to ask my professor a question. The principal’s office was on the other side of the hall, but a thin layer of dust on the mat confirmed his absence.
He used to wander around the halls of the three whole buildings that made up the campus and talk to the students: a little nosy and obnoxious, but friendly overall. Why hide himself away now?
My meanderings were interrupted by the Professor’s door opening. His head popped out of the doorframe as he apologized for making me wait.
“Please, Ms Anderson, take a seat.” He said warmly, returning to his desk.
He was a very pleasant professor, from what I’ve seen so far. He’s only been here since the start of the semester, but all the students like him. He’s very clear and passionate about language arts while still feeling approachable and easygoing. He’s also very attractive, with a face young enough to make the student body wonder about his age.
I took my seat in the brown wooden chair in front of his desk. His room was almost comically stuffed full of bookshelves and books, towering precariously on every empty nook and cranny except the chairs for students in front of the doors. Even the window was all but blocked with shelves, with little sunlight disturbing the occupants.
Despite his messy office, his clothes were immaculate if somewhat... nondescript. His dark brown suit was nice but seemed generic enough to have been just as likely from the 19th century as the 21st one. Same with the style he wore his almost-long black hair.
I always thought that seemed odd, considering how youthful and energetic Professor Opiri was with his students, that he dressed like an old, stuffy scholar.
“A penny for your thoughts?” He interrupted my continually distractable musings.
“Oh, nothing, sorry. I had a question about something you said in class.” He smiled and nodded here. “You mentioned the origin of the idiom ‘be careful what you wish for’ was related to a Chinese saying, and then talked about it’s connect to the Greek mythology of king Midas. So, what is it’s true entomology?”
The professor was silent for a few moments, then looked out the window (or where the window would be if not hidden behind two large bookshelves).
“Tell me, Ms Anderson, how would you expect a professor to have a definite answer to a question whose roots lie in millennia past?”
I blinked blankly at him, but he continued:
“Even the phrase I used earlier—’penny for your thoughts’— doesn’t have a clear cut origin. Many attribute it’s first use to Thomas More in 1522. But how can you prove that was it’s first use? Even if you could prove he used it, how would you prove no one had before.
Of course, I would not contribute such creativity to a deary man like that.” He laughed to himself and paused to let me respond.
While processing this assertion, I noted his odd habit again. The professor had a habit of adding little comments to his lessons that seemed to undermine or contradict his statements. Of course it was obvious they were jokes; it’s not as though he could have met a man from 500 years ago to think him dull. But, the way he said them sometimes was... unsettling. Like the joke was actually that no one would ever believe that they were not jokes.
After a minute, I wondered “Then, what is the point of studying etymologies at all? The same could be said for any words or idioms.”
“Ah, what indeed,” He responded, smiling. “Perhaps the reason lies not in acquiring a perfect test answer, but in the clues they provide for the meaning behind the words.”
This left me just as confused as when I had entered his office. I suppose that was evident on my face, because he grinned in amusement at me and continued talking.
“Tell me, Ms Anderson, how has this town changed in the past year or so?”
I felt even more confused now. What did that have to do with my original question? I wasn’t sure if I wanted to answer the question or derail entirely and interrogate him on why he was taking the scenic route towards making sense.
I supposed I should give him an answer, so I thought on it. I found nothing really stood out to me, though. I’d spent the past two years studying and working to make it through college, with an occasional respite of time with my friends or relaxing with my parents at home (which wasn’t much of a break, since my house was five minutes away).
After deliberation, I answered, “Nothing much. A tiny, boring town like this doesn’t have dramatic changes or events happen. Mr Blake the farmer accidentally shooting the sheriff’s tires out after a night of drinking is the craziest thing that’s happened here as far back as i can remember.”
Mr. Opiri walked around his desk and sat on the corner facing me. “Let me attempt to deduce some changes.” He put his hand on his chin in thought. “I remember many folks complaining about last year’s weather. It was too hot and sunny. And then there was the incidence with coyotes and bobcats making a mess of the farms. Wasn’t there news also mentioning that there had been a depression in employment and business, and that it was getting worse?”
Huh? What on earth was this batty prof. getting at?
“I...guess that’s true. I remember my parents complaining about all those things and how they were getting worse. But, that’s all normal stuff. It’s just how it goes in a little rural town like this.”
“And now?”
I stared at him for a probably impolite amount of time, trying to connect the dots of this labyrinthine conversation. And people say that I’m bad at staying on topic...
“...I...guess it’s gotten better? I know the weather channel has been saying the weather this year has been unseasonably cooler, with lower UV counts than normal. I... our neighbors said that they haven’t had any trouble with rogue predators. And most adults I’ve talked to are raving about how the college has started working with lots of businesses in and out of the city, so our economy is doing much better. But... I’m still not seeing what this has to do with my question?”
He was silent for a minute, then continued “And, any oddities worth mentioning?”
My head was starting to feel muddled. I always come and bother my professors with questions about my subjects. Much better to use office hours as much as possible and get good grades. This always happens when I talk with Professor Opiri though. I wonder why.
What was my original question?
“Um... Well not unless you count all the pictures of bats blowing up on the school’s social media rooms. They’ve gotten so comfortable and...friendly. I’ve seen selfies of people feeding them. That’s weird in my book. And...” I stopped.
“Yes?”
“Well, Principal Quarry has been oddly quiet this semester. He usually walks around, talking everyone’s ears off. I think he’s been holed up working with the library renovations? All the teachers are talking about all the new and unusual books we’ve been getting in. Old ones, too? I think...”
“Ah yes! The library! The expansion has unified many departments and businesses together. It’s almost like the town has quietly started to revolve around our dear little school.” He beamed, clearly excited about anything involving books.
“And quieter.” I added. The campus and town has started to seem a little more... sedate this semester. More peaceful. It was nice, but also... eerie? Like no one had the energy for pointless drama or quarrels anymore.
“...And is that bad?” Asked the professor.
I thought for a bit. “I...suppose it’s exactly what most people would have wished for the town. Better weather, the pests scared off, a unified purpose. Peace.”
Was that peace?
“So, the town has gotten everything it could wish for?”
I stared at his friendly face as he asked that. Was that rhetorical? Peace sounds nice. Yes, yes this sounds good I think.
Did I answer that out loud or in my head?
He remained silent for a minute, still smiling. “Tell me, Ms Anderson, does the phrase ‘Be careful what you wish for’ make more sense after hearing a supporting story beyond just the basic definitions of the words?”
Had the sun always been this dim? Had we always felt this...anemic?
He continued smiling at me as he stood up. “I think that’s enough discourse for today. It’s not good for students to spend their time holed up with their boring, old professors.”
He laughed softly. “I think you’ve spent enough time trying to solve this idiom. There’s no point in fretting over it now. There is no need in worrying about wishing after the wish.”
He offered his hand to me to help me up out of my chair. Was that weird? My brain and body felt sluggish, like when I’m half awake and half stuck in a disarming dream.
“Would you care to know the etymology of my name?” He asked, as he walked me to the door.
If he had asked me such a strange question at the start of our meeting, I’m sure I would have been curious. But now... why would I need to know that? No sense in digging up mysterious and messiness when everything is just fine.
Had he asked that question to his students before?
He simply smiled when I shook my head. “Get home safely, Ms. Anderson. Can’t have one of my best students getting into trouble on my watch.”
He winked jokingly and went back into his office.
...
Yes. Why bother wishing for explanations when the present was exactly what you’d care for?
Content in this knowledge, I walked back to my house to study. My house in my quiet, dreamlike little town where no one had to worry anymore about such grandiose things as analyzing how these changes had come about or what they meant. Our peaceful little village where no one could wish anything was any different.
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I wasn't sure where this was going but it turned into something nice.
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