The Works of Philip Kaveny
To this point Fenwick had kept his cool, but strangely enough though being called a “Lard Bucket”, hardly bothered him, being interrupted did and he in fact lost it as he said.
“Either you listen to me and do not interrupt me or I am calling you a women’s transit cab, to take you home. Further I will promise you that if you do that I will never and I mean never come to your Godamm writers group again.”
“Fenwick McLeod is that a threat or a promise”
Fenwick reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, and he had the women’s transit number in memory and he simply went to push the call button as he felt Joan’s hands fingers did into his wrist as she said.
“Go ahead and tell me your stupid theory about Byron, if you were not such a lard bucket and if you not so broke that you neither had a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out, and if you ever wrote poetry rather than that stupid Saga of Igor well maybe some little cutie might fall for the idea that you were a Bryon knock off Imation rather than the real thing.
Fenwick tried to reach for his phone but then Joan said,
“I give up I have tried everything with you, I practically, offered myself to you, I insulted you, I am sorry I scratched your wrist, nothing seemed to bother you. Okay tells me about Lord Byron in three hundred words or less.”
Just as Fenwick was about to weigh in with his literary theory of thirds Allissa and Alexandra came bouncing over to the both sort of giggling and sort of said in unison.
“We both just checked out or tablets and it seems that we both have a test in our meta-ethics course. We both need to do well on it. And we know that you teach beginning ethics, and that you are available for tutoring on short notice. “
Fenwick said, “Who do you have that, Dr. Shout, or Dr. Mayer, both of them are real douche bags who think it is their job not to teach ethics but make you hate it.”
Alexandria and Allissa started jiggling and giggling, and Joan though what in the name of god did I do some previous life to deserve that sort of thing. Then she said.
Sorry girls Fenwick was about to explain one of his literary theories. “
Alexandra said to Fenwick, “Give me your hand, and Allissa give me a magic marker which Allissa produced for her costume”
Alexandra wrote a phone number on Fenwick’s palm and said, “Allissa and I are roommates and we get off work at 1:00 AM. It’s been a really good tip night and we are willing to pay you fifty bucks each if you can tutor us to so that we ace the test, if we don’t you get nothing”
Joan looked aghast at them and said, “Doesn’t violate some sort of rule against cheating”
Alexandra said “Well not really we checked out with the campus legal department, and it seems that as long as Fenwick is not teaching the course and as long as he is not giving old tests or anything like that well we can hire who we want to tutor us ”
“Do you mean you want me to call you and stop by and tutor you for a test your are taking tomorrow after I have drunk two pitchers of beer, eaten nearly two pizzas, and eaten whatever was in all the empty bags that are covering the table”
Allissa giggled and said, “You got it right Big Guy this is a onetime offer, and if you do the job right we got lots of friends, that are in need of tutorial services”
Joan took charge and said in a very emphatic voice.
“Girls clean all this garbage off the table, and bring Fenwick and I a pot of coffee”
Alexandria and Allissa gave each other a W…TF look and doubled it as Joan now much more herself as Joan took charge and said.
“ Look if you two Bimbo’s, can stop acting like you are Bimbos here is what is going to happen, you will meet Fenwick and I over at my apartment, and if there is any tutoring to be done, Fenwick and I will be doing it together. Now do you two want to ace professor Meatloaf exam, or do you like your jobs so much that you want to be doing them for the rest of your life “
It seems that Fenwick McLeod had spent most of the night saying.
It was almost as if his life was a vinyl record struck in the grove.
Meanwhile Laura Larson, Byron woodcock were having coffee in Byron’s living room.
“Laura are you feeling any better, do you want to stay here tonight, and I can sleep on the Futon.”
Laura had never seen a straight man with an Apartment like professor Woodcock. Most men who lived alone were like bears with furniture. She thought to herself. I Bet Fenwick really live in a dump and he probably, picks his furniture up on trash from the curb. It was here she was in Byron Woodcocks apartment, a place she always dream of with its oriental motif, nearly two thousand square feet, in the former repurposed cooperate headquarters Union of Royal which use to employ two thousand industrial workers, in the city of Chippewa Valley, in West central Wisconsin.
Now that she had got almost where she dreamed she found herself asking,
“What sort of dump does Fenwick McLeod live in, or does he just sleep in his car?”
Byron turned to answer her and said,
“Well he does life in in kind of rough circumstances “
Byron was quietly amused he was used to getting what he wanted from women and not having to work very hard for it. He was not used being asked about other men. There was something whimsical, about it because he had watched Laura Larson, be transformed from almost a caricature of a single female English to a Viking shield Maiden, who could not stop asking him questions about Fenwick McLeod.
Then Laura said, “So do you guys work out together? She went on, “Joan said you kicked his ass, tell me about it.”
Byron wondered for a long time how much he should tell Laura, though he looked like he was in his mid-thirties, he was really in his mid-forties, and when he got out Annapolis, he had taken a commission in special operations and had in fact been though Navy seal training. But all he said was. Fenwick had a bad day he, was a pretty good 191 pound wrestlers and qualified for the nationals, but he was always of balance. The truth was even on his best of best days Fenwick McLeod could not have as they said in Wrestlers parlance carried Byron Woodcocks shoes out on the mat