Finals � � Chapter Eighteen� The name scribbled on my arm was of a former St. Elizabeth engineering student named Gordon Rogers. Googling his name didn’t lead me to much, but when I entered his name into Facebook, thanks to the mutual friends we shared (mostly professors and Holy Cross members), I was able to locate his homepage. � Fortunately for me, Rogers hadn’t adjusted his privacy settings, which allowed anyone to view his posts, friends and any dirty laundry that might be present. After reading a couple of uninteresting posts, I clicked on his information tab. Rogers had his St. Elizabeth email address, a personal email address and a number that I guessed was his cell. It was a start. � Although I was confident about my recent success, I was still paranoid about being discovered, and since I was a movie junkie, I knew the police were capable of unearthing a perp’s phone records. Thus the reason, I ended up calling Rogers from Anna Banana, a popular local coffee joint near campus. I was probably being too cautious, but if anything did develop with Quinn or Rogers, I had to look out for number one. � A Mexican mocha in one hand and a cordless phone in the other, I made the call to Rogers. � �śHello?” � �śHi, can I speak with Gordon Rogers?” I asked. � �śThis is Gordon.” � �śHi, Gordon, I’m with the University of St. Elizabeth paper, The Gazette. I was wondering if I might have a moment of your time.” � Like those creepy Scream movies, I heard breathing on the other line but Rogers remained quiet. The prolonged silence forced me to speak. �śMr. Rogers, are you there?” � �śWhat do you wanna know?” � I figured tiptoeing around the issue would be a waste of time and I’d eventually have to explain the reason behind the call. � �śI want to talk to you about Professor Quinn,” I began. �śI know the topic may be sensitive, but I promise I will disclose the information only as you see fit. I suppose I’m really trying to discern who the real Cheryl Quinn is, and I believe you may know that better than anyone.” � �śDo you know where the IHOP is on Greeley?” Rogers asked, after another lengthy pause. � �śYes.” � �śMeet me there at midnight if you want any information,” and with that, he hung up. � � � What a way to spend a Saturday night, going to IHOP to meet Quinn’s former boy toy when I could be out having a grand old time at a house party. I could be drinking beer, dancing with hot freshmen, and having stimulating discussions. Oh, who was I kidding? I was never one for outrageous parties. On occasion, I would go to one to give off the impression that I didn’t have a social stigma, but it was never my scene. I was more of a let’s cuddle on the couch while we watch Hugh Grant’s latest com-rom kind of guy, but the lack of a girlfriend and my abrupt desire to start killing off my classmates put a serious damper on those plans. � Despite the fact that I would have to drag my butt out of bed earlier than usual and put on my Sunday best for the Easter service, staying out later than usual to meet Rogers was worth it. If Quinn had filed a restraining order against him, I bet she likely had a good reason for doing so. Maybe Quinn and Rogers had had an unknown baby from their secret love affair and decided to give the baby up for adoption. Maybe Quinn had hired Rogers to kill one of her ex-husbands, but when he chickened out she got him expelled. Oh, the crazy possibilities were endless. � The Greeley IHOP was only a couple of minutes from the university, which made this midnight adventure a tad more convenient. Personally, I didn’t understand the whole idea of having pancakes for dinner. I was more of a traditionalist when it came to dining. I was not about to fill up on pancakes at midnight, nor was I going to consume steak and potatoes in the early morning, and I certainly will never be able to comprehend how anyone could eat cold pizza for breakfast. Merely the thought of putting cold cheese in my mouth first thing in the morning makes me want to blow chunks. � The IHOP was pretty desolate when I arrived a couple minutes after twelve. A few derelicts were enjoying their bacon and eggs, and a small number of Portland hipsters were sharing a rather massive stack of pancakes. A young man sipping on what I believed to be coffee was alone in a corner booth, and unless Rogers had yet to arrive, I guessed this was my guy. � �śGordon Rogers?” I asked, approaching the lone man. � �śThat’s me. You must be the guy from The Gazette,” he replied. � �śWayne York,” I said, extending my hand. �śNice to meet you.” � Refusing to stand, Rogers shook my hand then gestured for me to sit down. Looking at Rogers, my presumption that he and Quinn had bumped uglies a time or two didn’t seem too farfetched. If it wasn’t for his cleft chin and a visible mole on the tip of his nose, I would have thought I was talking to a scruffy Jake Gyllenhaal. His bloodshot eyes gave off the impression he was up past his usual bedtime or he was a user. Judging from the cup of coffee and his slouched shoulders, I was betting it was the former. � �śI already ordered, but the waitress should be back soon if you want anything,” Rogers said. � �śThanks, I’m good,” I said. �śI’m not too big on breakfast for dinner.” � �śWeird, most people are,” he said, matter-of-factly. I didn’t take offense to the remark because he clearly didn’t mean anything by it, but evidently I was in the minority when it came to ordering breakfast foods at irrational hours in the day. � �śYou a vegan or something?” � �śDo I look like I’m malnourished?” I asked. � �śYeah, kinda,” Rogers said straight-faced. � �śThanks for the concern,” I said dryly. �śJust because I don’t like eating pancakes at midnight doesn’t mean I’m a vegan.” � �śThis is Portland, the city full of granolas and hippies. I was curious, that’s all,” Rogers answered. � The waitress arrived carrying his pancakes, allowing for a break in our less than stirring initial conversation. She asked if I needed anything, but I told her I was fine with water. � �śSo what can you tell me about Quinn?” I asked, watching as Rogers removed his silverware from the napkin cocoon. � �śSince I’m about to eat my pancakes here, why don’t you tell me your motivation behind writing this article?” Rogers said, now drenching his pancakes in maple syrup. � �śI’m merely trying to find out a little more about Professor Quinn,” I said. � �śI figured that. I wanna know what you know about Quinn and how you came up with my name.” � Given my recent span of dastardly behavior, I thought about coming up with a fabricated story about why I was �śwriting this piece” but I didn’t see the harm in telling him the truth. I doubted he and Quinn were on speaking terms considering that Quinn had filed a restraining order against this short-stack lover, and really, what was the worst thing that could happen? � No one would slap the cuffs on me and send me to the big house for snooping on a seemingly sexist professor. Sister Robinson might reprimand me for researching a potential story without her knowledge if she happened to find out, but the old nun loved me and the ability to forgive was essentially written in her DNA. Truth be told, there was no reason why I shouldn’t tell Rogers about my discovery of the grade books, which is why I laid it all out for the St. Elizabeth alum. � As Rogers began devouring his three blueberry pancakes, I told him about my discovery of Quinn’s grade books and the purple folder, somehow managing to forget how I came about conveniently locating such documents. � Once I concluded telling Rogers about the unfair grade distribution, he took a break from jamming maple-enhanced dough down his gullet. �śSounds like you’ve done some fine investigating. I was hoping you hadn’t found my name in her day planner and figured that I’d be willing to help plan her tenure anniversary party or something.” He chuckled in a self-satisfied way and added. �śBut I’m glad that’s not the case.” � �śAssuming I’ve been deemed worthy, how about you tell me about your relationship with Quinn and why she filed a restraining order against you,” I said, praying I would finally get some answers. � �śShe basically ruined my life,” Rogers said, looking at me for the first time now that his plate was licked clean. � As the words slipped out of his mouth, I found them difficult to believe since the statement was said without an ounce of conviction. The guy had a bit of sass, but for the most part he had a rather ho-hum demeanor. Either Rogers was incredibly tired or Quinn hadn’t actually ruined his life. Whichever the case, I was beginning to think that this trip had been a waste of time and his preference towards keeping information bottled up was beginning to get on my nerves. � My scruffy friend took a sip of his coffee as I sat patiently waiting for more of an explanation. It was difficult to say whether Rogers didn’t want to openly discuss his relationship with Quinn, was falling into a coma, or was simply relishing the fact that he now had an audience. I was on the verge of relaying to Rogers that I had yet to master the art of telepathy but as if on cue, he finally began spilling the information I was so desperately trying to obtain. � �śI was an engineering major with a mechanical focus. I was accepted into Stanford’s graduate mechanical engineering program my senior year, which is one of the better engineering programs in the country. As you can guess, as an engineer, I’ve never been one for writing or the arts, so I held off on taking English 101 and my upper division social science electives until my final semester. I ended up signing up for Quinn’s Sociology 315 class, Politics and Society.” � �śI heard that class was tough enough to begin with, but with Quinn�ŚI can only imagine,” I said. Thankfully, my collegiate planning was well thought out, meaning I could spend more time focusing on my �śextracurricular activities” this semester. � �śShe ended up filing a restraining order against me by the end of that year, so that basically sums up how that class turned out,” Rogers said. � �śI suppose throughout the course of the semester you began to come to terms with Quinn’s grade styling?” � �śI began to come to terms that she was intent on ripping me a new asshole,” said Rogers, showing a tiny burst of passion for the first time. �śI knew the class was going to be difficult so when I started to get poor grades on my first assignments, I thought I needed to put in the extra effort to make sure I was grasping the important concepts. You see, I’ve never been one to get bad grades so I was more than a little shocked that my grades continued to suffer after I went to see her and spent hour upon hour making sure my papers were flawless.” � �śSo what happened?” I asked, hoping he was getting down to what brought about the restraining order. � �śOne day I was in her office having another pointless discussion about one of my projects when another professor asks to speak with her for a few minutes. As I’m sitting there waiting for Quinn to return, I notice her grade book is out on her desk. Since I was a senior and didn’t have any friends in that class, I was curious to see if other people were flunking as well, or if it was just me.� �śWhen I take a gander at her grade book, I notice that I’m not doing so terrible and am in fact the only guy in the class with a C+. Anyways, I start flipping through the grade book and I begin to see a pattern. The girls are getting A’s and B’s and the guys are struggling to get C’s and D’s.” � �śThen I’m guessing Quinn walks in and isn’t too thrilled about finding you flipping through her grade book?” � �śShe harshly asks me to explain myself, but I went off. I started dropping F bombs telling her to explain this stuff to me,” Rogers said. �śLong story short, I was escorted out of the Buckley Center and then a university hearing regarding the incident was scheduled posthaste.” � I found the odds of Rogers cussing out Quinn as probable as a fat kid being chosen first for a pickup basketball game. Yet the fact that a hearing was held did make the story more believable. I could go into The Gazette records to find out if Rogers’s incident had warranted a faculty hearing or if he was feeding me a heaping pile of baloney. � In many situations, the St. Elizabeth Student Government, SESG, was in charge of handling cases such as roommate disagreements, student drinking, gambling issues, and other trivial problems. Most of the students brought before SESG are head-cases that need a third party to intervene because they’re either too stupid or unreasonable to resolve their own issues. In serious cases such as Rogers’s, St. Elizabeth faculty members conducted these hearings rather than student officials. � �śAnd so how did this hearing of yours go?” I asked. � �śI was already pissed off about my grade in Quinn’s class and about having to go to a hearing, but what sent me over the edge was when Quinn suggested I attend therapy or an anger management session that would give me the guidance and possible medical treatment she felt I needed,” Rogers said seriously.� I wondered how anyone could possibly think that this guy needed anger management. He was like a human Eeyore. If anything, he needed a shot of adrenaline, not a therapy session. � �śDid you get a chance to explain your side of the story or at least inform the other faculty members of your findings?” I asked, curious to see if other professors were well aware of Quinn’s grading prejudice. � �śIt was like I was a child having a bunch of adults talk about me as if I wasn’t there. I told them about what I found, but Quinn whipped out her grade book that I’m sure she had altered and my accusations were discredited just like that,” Rogers said, snapping his fingers. � �śThe rest of the hearing they sat around discussing my punishment. Obviously, I didn’t get a say since I was basically speaking a foreign language to them and since Quinn was the bell of the ball, she had the final say in the decision. She concluded that I should immediately enter an anger treatment facility and if I was able to adhere to specific parameters, they’d let me finish my courses in the summer.” � �śOkay,” I said, still wondering if any of this was true. �śSo where does the restraining order come in?” � �śI wasn’t too pleased about Quinn’s decision so I went to ask her to reconsider. I had to move into my Stanford apartment by mid July and start getting set for my coursework. If I was stuck in Portland finishing my undergraduate degree then essentially I would have to wait until the following year to begin my graduate studies. So in order to get to Stanford on time, I had to finish out my classes in the spring, which is what I went to go talk to her about.” � �śAnd she shot you down, right?” I said, becoming slightly annoyed. At this rate, Lindsay Lohan was going to win an Oscar before I ever found out why Quinn filed a restraining order against this introverted engineer. � �śShe did. I went to her office. I even followed her out to her car, begging for an alternative.” � �śBut you knew she was in the wrong,” I said blatantly. �śWhy didn’t you try to go over her head?” � �śIn hindsight, that is what I should have done, but my aggression got the best of me. I had a few rather large textbooks and notebooks in my backpack and I lost it. I started swinging at her car with my backpack, causing some nice size dents. Public Safety saw the incident and stopped me. As they took me away, I yelled something like, �ŚYou’ll be sorry, I’m gonna fucking get you bitch!’”� �śYou’re joking me,” I said, starting to laugh flippantly. �śI mean no offense here, but from the impression I’m getting you’re more like a lethargic stoner than a UFC fighting muscle head. I find it hard to believe that you started slinging your textbooks at her car.” � �śI know I have a relaxed demeanor,” he said calmly, still trying to convince me of his hostile nature. �śBut you have to understand for the past two years I’ve been living a Zen lifestyle, my vision has been blurred by a drug-induced haze. I’ve been on more medications than I can count. This is one of first times in a long time that I’ve actually felt like my old self. I used to come here all the time to cram for tests with my friends. I know it’s pathetic, but having pancakes was a treat for me tonight.” � �śSo you’re telling me you’re basically a pancake-deprived, washed-up engineer living out his life in a delusional bubble?” � �śWell, you kinda put a negative spin on things, but basically that’s correct.” � �śYou’re sitting here at IHOP with me instead of building stuff or whatever it is you mechanical engineers do. I would be pissed off if I were you,” I exclaimed, trying to convey the severity of Quinn’s crimes. �śAn unfair professor ruined your chances of going to graduate school. Doesn’t that make you in the least bit upset?” � �śIt does, but all of that is in the past. Thanks to my counseling sessions I’ve learned to forgive and forget” Rogers said. � �śThat’s just it though Gordon, you shouldn’t,” I said, feeling like a football coach giving his pregame speech to a quarterback with jitters. � �śYou can do something Gordon, and I can help you. We’re the ones who know she’s guilty. It’s not just about revenge, don’t you see? Sure, we can put Quinn in her place and make her pay for ruining your graduate life at Stanford, but this is about more than us. I feel it is our responsibility to help other students so they don’t have to go through what you went through. We can stop this injustice. We can make a difference. You need only to believe.” � It wasn’t much in terms of motivational speeches, and yet I was starting to believe the filth coming out of my mouth. Students like Trevor, who were clearly buffoons, needed my help or else they would continue to fail and wonder what was required to earn a good grade without knowing their professor was just a conniving, sexist bitch. The dark voices were once again beginning to murmur, they knew I had the means to end Quinn’s reign of terror. The only question still unanswered was whether or not I would have a sidekick for this malicious enterprise. Judging from Rogers’s raised eyebrows, he wasn’t quite ready to become my Robin. If this venture was going to happen, his inner monster needed to take form quickly because although killing Quinn would be as easy as taking sheep to the slaughter, this was Rogers’s fight, not mine. � �śHow do you presume we go about doing that? The professors at USE aren’t going to listen to us, you know that, right?” said Rogers. � �śWho says we have to involve faculty members?” I asked. �śWe can handle this matter ourselves.” � With a perplexed look about him, Rogers appeared to have no clue what I meant, until suddenly as if stung by a bee in the hindquarters, he leaned across the table. �śAre you talking about vigilante justice?” � Vigilante justice was folklore. Social deviants such as Robin Hood used their skills and equipment in their arsenal to correct a societal wrong. In many instances, the adoring public dubs this individual a hero. Killing for the sake of bettering humanity is an extreme act exceeding vigilante justice. Since my acts of crime were less than acceptable, my place was not alongside such folk legends. A few fans of Dexter might pat me on the back for ridding the world of a coke addict and a rapist; but to most, murder is a heinous, unforgivable act. Juries and judges are capable of doling out verdicts pertaining to human life, but not immature college students. Few would understand the need to dispose of Brent and Harvey, which is why unlike Robin Hood, my feats would be talked about on the evening news, not around campfires. � However, in this particular case, vigilante justice was conceivably a better idea. My sinister intuition wanted to terminate Quinn as if she were an unwelcomed rodent, but something a little less dramatic could still do the trick. � �śYes,” I whispered back. � �śLike what?” he asked silently, making it appear as though we were discussing top-secret classified information. � �śIf you had the chance to reclaim your life and avenge the injustice done to you, would you? All it takes is grabbing her attention and provoking a little fear. Fear is a powerful thing.” � �śHow do we know that we wouldn’t further enrage Quinn by whatever it is we do?” Rogers asked. � �śSimple. Commit an act so terrifying she’ll be afraid for her life,” I began. �śYou see, anarchists have one advantage over the just and that is, they have no fear. If you have no concern over the repercussions of your actions then you have no boundaries. Individuals are riddled with rules, rules implemented by the government, by societal norms, by employers, by spouses, and the list only continues. But when you live without rules, you’re able to control those who do abide by them. You have the power.” � As a college senior, I’m no stranger to recognizing or even having the occasionally �śAha!” moment. These incidents happen when you finally discover how to equate a difficult homework problem, such as understanding how to amortize a company patent, or sometimes a professor will give you an example that helps put the issue in clearer context. Whatever the reason, the expression is easily detectable. The individual’s lips come together forming an �śO” shape as if they were about to take a sip from a Slurpee. It’s as if a switch is flipped; that flash of recognition benchmarking the moment when a once unfamiliar concept is suddenly understandable. � Sitting across from Rogers it was easy to see that he had finally grasped the point I was trying to make as an inaudible �śah” escaped his lips followed by a brief head nod. Up until this juncture in the conversation, I wasn’t sure if this lackadaisical master of Zen was capable of taking up the quest of destroying Quinn, but judging from his expression, it appeared as if the repressed Gordon Rogers was resurfacing and would bring with him a fervent desire for revenge. He appeared ready to join me on the dark side, or so it seemed. � �śLet’s blow up her car,” Rogers said, reaffirming my belief that he was ready for his mission. � I was a little surprised by the sudden suggestion, but the idea did coincide with our vigilante agenda. My only concern was how we might pull off such a feat. � �śThat would get her attention,” I replied quietly back. �śCan you do that?” � �śYeah, I’m a mechanical engineer. It might take me a few weeks to create a car bomb suitable for our needs but it’s not that tough,” Rogers said. �śBut how do we go about making it clear to Quinn that we know her game and want it to stop so she doesn’t destroy any other students’ lives?” � �śLeave that part to me,” I said, not wanting to completely miss out on the fun. �śYou just worry about her car.” Thinking back to Rogers’s earlier incident with Quinn’s car, I couldn’t help but add. �śI have to say, you really have it in for Quinn’s car.”� �śI remember one day she told this girl in our class how she got her last husband’s car in the divorce. She said that he loved his Rolls more than anything in the world, which made her taking his prized possession all the more satisfying.” � I suppose if I was smart, interpreting Rogers’s story would lead me to believe trifling with Quinn wasn’t the best idea. Teaming up with an unstable alumnus who in all likelihood might place a car bomb underneath my own Honda, or rat me out to a professor or the police, didn’t seem too logical either. � However, like a runner drenched in sweat, my self-confidence that stemmed from previous successful endeavors was oozing from every pore of my body. I had brilliantly gotten away with two counts of murder and no one was thinking Wayne York was anything more than a classmate or friend to the departed. Sure, Quinn was a different caliber opponent and Rogers wouldn’t be my first choice when it came to picking an apprentice but I was feeling like Lady Gaga after a successful night at the VMAs. I was entirely too good to be stopped. I was in an elite class of my own, and despite common knowledge that all serial killers or social deviants face the music sooner or later, I was going to risk helping Rogers so we could take down Quinn. � Rogers and I sat for a few more minutes hammering out the details of our scheme before we shook hands, finally leaving IHOP at 1:30 in the morning. As I drove back to my house, I felt as though we had developed a decent plan but I was still worried I didn’t really understand the real Gordon Rogers. � My dark voices told me he could be trusted and that he was more than capable of helping me end Quinn’s reign of terror, but I wish they would have given me the complete brief on Gordon Rogers, rather than just the cliff notes. � � �