10:32 am

Kevin took the long route to the president’s office. He knew the way, but he wanted to get a look at the crime scene from the concourse window. Laura let him take the lead, but he was pretty sure that although she’d not spent four years here attending classes as he had, she knew the layout better. Floor plans would be a lot easier to remember than the location of dozens of randomly placed leaves.

They passed through the door to the lower level of the Rakin Center which joined the faculty office building to the administration building. Either it was a really slow day, or there was too much of an attraction outside. The foyer was completely empty.

“It’s Miss,” Laura said quietly.

“Excuse me?” Kevin asked.

“It’s Miss Wynn, not Ms. Wynn,” Laura replied, stressing the ‘z’ in Ms.

“Oh, Okay, I didn’t think that was used anymore.”

“Yes, it is, or they are, ‘Miss’ and ‘Mrs.’, by most women, in fact. It’s just that those who object to them generally make more of a stink than those who don’t.”

They began to climb the stairway to the second floor.

“I’d never really paid that much attention. If it’s not that big a deal, why the preference?” Kevin asked.

“I didn’t say it’s not a big deal,” Laura said, calmly, “One of the foundational rules of Memorite learning is that big things are made of little things, and important things are made of trivial things. Therefore any small thing is potentially of infinite value.”

“Okay,” Kevin answered, obviously lost, “how about I call you Laura, then?”

“That would be fine,” she said, giving him a smile.

They reached the second floor and made their way to the concourse.

“Okay, now I’m curious,” Kevin said, “I may regret this, but, how can every little thing be of infinite value?”

“I didn’t say every little thing, I said any little thing. There’s a difference.”

“I’m not really seeing it,” Kevin said, “Is this some kind of Memorite way of thinking?”

“Yes and no,” Laura answered, “Memorites employ it, but it’s not really exclusive to Memorites. Let me give you an example.”

They had stopped at the windows that lined the concourse. They both looked down on the crime scene.

“What do you see out there?”

“A bunch of students, Officer Meadows, the crime scene, the woods...,” Kevin looked at her wondering if he should continue.

“Objects.”

“I guess if you want to call people, objects.”

“For this illustration, yes,” Laura continued, “Men and women think differently. Men tend to focus on objects, while women focus on the relationships between objects. I see students interacting, an officer holding his authority amidst students that may not respect it—in other words, relationships. Neither is better than the other, and in fact, they complement each other, but it is an undeniable, foundational factor of human cognitive development and functioning. It is seen as a minor factor by most, a ‘little thing’ if you will. But it is one of the most important foundations of Memorite learning. Before we can begin to learn, we must learn to learn. Before we begin that, we must learn how we learn. That ‘little thing’ is the building block upon which Memorites learn to learn. Once we learn to learn in the way our individual minds are built to learn, we remove most of the obstacles that interfere with learning.”

“Wow,” Kevin said, “but...,” he hesitated, “that sounds pretty simplistic.”

“Little, simple, still the same idea. That’s only the very beginning of Memorites learning. Which also brings us back to your question.”

“Which question was that?” Kevin asked.

“Why the title ‘Miss’ is important.”

“We’re back to that again?”

“Yes,” Laura said with a bit of a laugh, “Since women place greater importance on relationships, historically their titles have reflected the status of one of the most important relationships a woman has—her marriage.”

“Doesn’t that kinda put unmarried women at a disadvantage?”

“That would be a matter of perspective. Any factor can put someone at a disadvantage in the eyes of someone else. The question is whether that perspective is valid. In this case, it isn’t. An unmarried woman and a married woman are of equal worth. The title displays the simple presence of a specific relationship. It’s all about accepting who we are. Acknowledging that, allows us to exploit our strengths and strengthen our weaknesses.” Laura noticed Kevin’s look of confusion.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, “I guess I shouldn’t be giving you lectures in Memorite learning techniques.”

“Oh, no, it’s all very fascinating,” Kevin was halfway truthful. He was eager to learn more about Memorites but didn’t quite understand what she was trying to explain.

“So,” Kevin said, “how would I go about exploiting the strengths of my male, object-seeing brain?”

Laura laughed. “Get accepted to the Memorite Preparatory School at age six.”

Kevin laughed back.

“Did you see what you wanted to see from up here?” Laura asked.

“Not really. I just wanted to add a perspective to my view of the crime scene,” Kevin said. “Did you need to look any more?”

“No, I only needed a quick look.”

“Well then, the president’s office is this way.” Kevin gestured, and they started back down the concourse.

A few steps further and the concourse slanted up to meet the administration building’s second floor. The transition from the concourse to the administration building was designed to be impressive. The space opened up into the high-ceilinged entrance to the building. A curved wooden rail separated the carpeted walkway in front of the president’s office from the open space above the building’s foyer. The impact was supposed to accentuate the expanse of room in the foyer. Bright, but conservatively-colored, solid tapestries hung from the ceiling to hide the framework and make the eyes focus on the wide-open space. In the middle of the second floor, overlooking the entrance was the president’s office. The door was glass and was set in a glass wall. Prominent in the middle of the front office was the desk of the president’s assistant. She seemed to take pride in not only being on display but being in a position to see who was coming or going.

Kevin held the door open for Laura. To their left, inside the front office was a doorway that led to what appeared to be several office machines, a fax, a copier, etc. To their right behind more glass doors was a large conference room with a massive oval conference table. Curtains had been drawn across half of the glass, but enough was open to see the expensive details of the room. Behind the assistant’s desk was the door to the president’s office.

Debbie Sizemore would have looked like a queen bee observing her hive, except that, in spite of her dedication, drive and efficiency, she came across as a very unassuming person. She was five foot five and while what might have been considered somewhat overweight had she been White, was just about average for a Black woman her age. She had been Dr. Payton’s assistant for three years. He’d chosen her specifically when his previous assistant left to pursue further education. Debbie had been working as one of the secretaries for the English department. Dr. Payton’s previous assistant had been hardworking and loyal but hadn’t been able to proof his letters and memos, and the grammar and spelling mistakes that had slipped through were a constant embarrassment to him. He chose Debbie primarily because she had been able to handle being a secretary for English professors; so he assumed she would be able to catch any errors. What he hadn’t realized was that as the secretary for English professors meant that the letters and memos she typed up were generally already correct, and she hadn’t had the need to correct them. The one thing that Debbie was, was dedicated. The first time she let an error slip through, Dr. Payton had expressed deep disappointment in her. She’d gone home dejected, and cried most of the evening. The next day she paid a visit to some of the professors she’d worked for before, and explained her problem. They liked Debbie and agreed to take turns coaching her on the more common and mundane spelling and grammar errors that she would find. Proofing the president’s memos and letters themselves would have been out of the question because part of Debbie’s responsibilities was to ensure the privacy of his papers. But the coaching paid off, and not another error slipped through her watchful eye.

“Dr. Payton’s in a meeting,” Debbie told them as they walked in. She’d seen them from her vantage point. The glass door and wall, as well as the glass doors of the front of the admin building, allowed her a full view of the inside and outside of the front of the building. She had caught a glimpse of Kevin and Laura as they went from one part of the crime scene to the other. She’d made a quick phone call and confirmed who they were. Debbie always tried her best to be thorough.

“I’ll let him know you’re here.” She got up and gently knocked at the door, listened, then stuck her head in. Neither Kevin nor Laura could hear what she said, but she leaned back out and gently shut the door. Turning to them and smiling she said, “He’ll be out in just a few minutes.”

Kevin and Laura took seats in the cushioned chairs to the left of the door. Kevin looked at Laura, intending to make small talk and he noticed she had her eyes closed and was tapping on her TacCom. Deciding not to interrupt, he grabbed a magazine off of the table next to him. He flipped through it casually, not really paying attention when the word Memorite caught his attention. He turned the magazine so he could see the cover. ‘Education Monthly’. Not one he generally read. He turned back to the article and read it quickly. Quite a slam on the Memorites.

“We found the article to be highly amusing,” Laura said, surprising him.

“Oh,” Kevin replied, feeling like he’d been caught, “so you’ve read it?”

“That particular magazine isn’t very high on our list of important periodicals, but the article has been circulating among Memorites as a joke.”

“A joke? I don’t think the author intended it that way.”

“Well, it amuses us,” Laura said, smiling.

“How much of this is true?” Kevin asked.

“Well, it depends on what you mean by true,” Laura replied, “Technically all of it, otherwise it wouldn’t have been printed, but the words are twisted to make sure the reader perceives a different message than what is technically true. Most of it is conjecture and opinion, which is generally based on wild leaps of imagination. No children are ever forced to attend either the Memorite Preparatory School or the Memorite Academy, and only the top students graduating from the Memorite Preparatory School continue into the Memorite Academy. Many graduates of the Memorite Preparatory School do not continue with middle or junior high school, because they instead begin college. It is against the law to release the standardized test scores of any student, regardless of what school they attend. And you yourself have seen that our abilities are not ‘rigged’.”

“Has the Memorite Society responded to this?” Kevin asked.

“Well,” Laura laughed, “it was felt that the accusations were so transparent that the article itself served as a condemnation of the author’s views. Why kick a dog when he’s down?”

Kevin had to laugh at that. “Of course, you’re putting a lot of faith in the intelligence of the average non-Memorite.”

“Faith in the potential of human ability is exactly how the Memorite Society came into being. We’re just continuing that practice.”

The door to the president’s office opened, and someone stepped out, followed by Dr. Payton.

“Saturday should be a good time for that,” Payton said to him. Turning to Kevin and Laura, Payton once again beamed, “Well, Debbie worked really hard, and the schedule is set,” he grabbed a paper she had held up. The man he’d been meeting with spoke quietly to Debbie, and she opened a schedule book and began looking it over.

“Here are the times the faculty members you indicated will be meeting with you. I told them to come here. Our conference room is free for the afternoon, and I assumed that would be adequate.”

“That’d be perfect,” Kevin said, “That’s very considerate of you.”

“Oh, well think nothing of it.”

“I wonder,” Laura interjected, “if it would be possible to look over Professor Engstrom and Professor Walser’s offices.”

“Well,” began Payton, “I was faxed the search warrants earlier this morning, so you’d just need the keys.” He turned to Debbie who was still whispering with the visitor. “Debbie can you get a hold of Shawn Miller and have him meet Detective Gould and Ms. Wynn...,”

“It’s Miss Wynn,” Kevin said with a serious face showing only the barest of smiles at the corners of his mouth.

“Miss Wynn,” Payton said slowly looking at Laura for confirmation. She smiled, and Payton continued, addressing his secretary. “Have Shawn meet them at Professor Engstrom’s office and tell him to leave the key with them, as well as the key for Professor Walser’s office.”

As Debbie picked up her desk phone, Payton looked at Kevin and Laura.

“If you’ll wait Debbie can show you where Professor Engstrom’s office is.”

“Oh,” Laura answered, “that won’t be necessary. We know how to get there.”

“Good,” Payton said, “let me know if I can be of any more assistance.” And he returned to his office.

Before they could start to leave, Debbie reached out and touched Laura’s hand.

“Just a minute,” she said into the phone, then covering the mouthpiece she whispered to Laura, “I prefer ‘Miss’, too,” and winked.

At the door, while Kevin held it open for Laura, he said to her, “Okay, I guess I’m just dense when it comes to women.”

“Or maybe you just don’t perceive the importance of relationships,” she said to him as she walked past.

Behind the glass of the office, Debbie watched them leave, smiling.