The Abused Muse Is Not Amused

*Note: the following journal entries were taken from the work of Dr. Rasmussen Stenchill, a well-known pioneer in the field of body dysmorphia and plastic surgery. As is well-known, Dr. Stenchill disappeared without any prior notice and left his colleagues wondering what did happen to the distinguished scientist. No information has been discovered in these notes to help throw light on his missing person file.

- Standington PD

Sunday, March 27^th, 20—

I have begun a new job at a new college named Standforth. Hopefully, I will not face any of the problems faced at the ordinary institutions that once hired me and claimed to provide complete access and funds for research. After a busy morning of tours around the campus and unloading of equipment, I did find the time to sit with the dean, Mr. Tether, and find out why I was hired after my previous problems. He seemed pretty clear about why: “With your reputation and our facilities, how can we not take this school into a new world of science?” And then he offered me a drink! Not much of fan of brandy…

And I start on Monday.

Monday, March 28^th, 20—

A little tired, but I think that I am a “good fit” for these students. Most of them want to be researchers and scientists, but I can already see that only a few have the mind and skills to make it. One student in particular grilled me on how much money was really available to do work in their field (I did not give numbers that were bound to change when he graduated). Mr. Tether found me after the session, but he seemed a little distracted by another instructor. Beautiful woman, I must admit, and he admitted that she had just started work in the humanities department in the previous semester. Danielle Monk. Dance and literature. I tried not to laugh out loud at this, esp. with the look on my boss’s face. He thanks me for my work and proceeds to follow her, like a mouse in her experiment. This will be interesting to track. May even help in my research? Taking notes.

Sunday, April 3^rd, 20—

I should describe my week: I only have to work in the classroom three sessions a week. This allows me to refer to my notes and get some work done on papers and projects that had been referred to the college. Mr. Tether has put me in touch with a group of PhD candidates who understand the importance of keeping things private and appear to have some actual skills in a laboratory. This will continue until the summer vacation period. Exams may take up some time (three sessions with about 45 students in total – some names have not shown up yet for any of the classes; less to deal with and mark). All lesson plans are copied and taken from previous classes and I have added my own material (as agreed upon).

Should also mention Miss (Dr.?) Monk. Saw the dean in one of the open quads and her in a discussion. She seemed quite emotional as they spoke (looking out an upper-floor window limits what I could learn about this). He walked away, leaving her standing there for a moment, and then she took a seat on a bench and – I had better be careful about this – began to stretch. Impressive flexibility (so, yes, dance). She drew some stares and did not care. Went on for a few moments until she finally got up and went to the Arts building (I had that locale pointed out on my tour). This intrigues me. Again, could this be researched? End.

Wednesday, April 6^th, 20—

Encounter I should mention: Dr. Monk. In the main cafeteria, I found myself in line behind her. She offered to sit with me in there (not my usual place for eating). Discovered much about her that I did not suspect. Her family has ties with the school (might explain a great deal); father was also a professor (mathematics); mother a dancer and instructor (worked with Martha Graham and Merce Cunningham – will look them up). Showed much interest in what I was doing (she admitted to wondering if she needed to get “work done”; I was honest and said that it only for extreme cases where the health of the patient is involved). She smiled. And then Mr. Tether saw us together. I could see how uncomfortable he was. She did not notice him. Only saw me. No smiles or gestures to approach us. My abrupt step away confused her. Not sure what this will mean.

Sunday, April 16^th, 20—

This is why I do not like to get involved with people in the workplace. Dean Tether asked me about my relationship with Dr. Monk. I explained that I only met her the one time in the cafeteria (still our only meeting). He clearly did not believe me and confessed his feelings for her. I did not mention the scene I saw earlier in the quad, but I recalled it in my thoughts. He then began to…cry. Yes, the man who hired me cried. Not a problem to me. Would have been better if he had done it in his office and not in the laboratory near my staff (told them we were done for the day). And then the man asked for my advice. Again, I hate to get involved with the problems of my coworkers, or bosses. I tried to give him some advice: talk to her; find out if she likes you; flowers and chocolates. Not sure what else I could have said. I mentioned her parents (he appeared to not know as much as I did – another problem?). Said that she might want someone interested in dance or literature. He appeared to accept this. Called me “his one true friend in the school”. This will be a problem. Can barely think about my own work without this nonsense. Hope it passes.

*

(Several pages were removed from the journal at this point; it picks up after classes have concluded and exams were in progress)

*

Monday, May 23^rd, 20—

Dean Tether does not notice much. Monk has tried her best to be polite to his advances and let him know that she is not interested. He keeps asking me for advice. Did not tell him the complete truth about what has happened these last few weeks (have to keep this all secret).

Dating Dr. Danielle.

She does appreciate my work and lets me know a lot about how dancers behave and take care of their bodies (a very interesting idea I still want to pursue; perhaps after exams). Appreciated that I looked up those two dancers (Cunningham and Graham were actually quite famous); mentioned that she had books she wanted me to read (Didion sounds interesting). And then it began. We met at a café that Tether did not know about; dinners and lunches; talks about our lives and where we want to be one day (may have revealed too much about my work; some uncomfortable reactions to this but she did ask some very interesting questions). She admitted her concerns about her body (mainly height and weight; rather silly, I thought; she appreciated my work but I had to tell her that she should not worry; no lies). She also revealed something interesting about her department: annual end of the year event where they have a project completed over the semester shared with the school. Main auditorium (Evercrest Hall) in June. Of course, I am invited. Tether never mentioned it to me at any of our meetings. No sign that he is aware of what is happening.

Exams going well. Two more weeks to go.

Sunday, June 5^th, 20—

This may be the last entry I leave here. Exams concluded and graded (surprising number of students passed). Main event: the project. This is worth noting in full. In main auditorium, placard at the front door: The Abused Muse Is Not Amused. It was amusing to read. Did not see Dr. Monk right away. Presenter told us to take a seat. I have one reserved near the front (guided by one of her students). Long speech. Main points that stayed with me: “a few powerful moments worth remembering”; “special care of special people”; “wrong to think that this is anything personal”. Worth keeping note on those lines. Lights went down. Music played by student orchestra. Main stage opened with line of dancers in red. As the light played on them, they sang along (a humming and a chanting melody). Very graceful. Then, another dancer appeared at the back of the stage. White outfit with mask. Taller than the others. Better dancer. And the music stopped. Danced without it. Stopped and looked at all of us for a moment. That was the moment when I noticed how close I was sitting to the Dean (Tether was also in a reserved seat). And I should have known what was happening. Danielle was bathed in sweat and looked wonderful. I thought that the show was about to end. Very near to clapping. Noted the silence, and Tether’s look. He was not looking at her. It was me he stared at. And then Danielle spoke.

Won’t re-write the whole speech here. Embarrassing to sit through your life’s work through another person. She did get it all right: the plastic surgery work; the studies of dysmorphia; the interest in “improving” (her word, never mine) what was already there. And then she looked at Tether. She got that right, too: the endless calls; the unreciprocated desire; the uncomfortable moments when she was with him. And then a declaration.

So, my career at the school is over.

No official word from anyone (Dean Tether looked ill when I last saw him). I can read things better now. She helped me.

And she is with me.

We met after things ended. Message from her told me that she could now be done with that life. School was not enough for her. “Was it enough for me?”

Was going to leave her with all this embarrassment.

Made a choice.

A very beautiful choice.