Chapter 1

1985

“Fight or flight is a rather common behavioral trait among most animals. More aggressive species and/or more aggressive specimens within species tend toward fight, while less aggressive ones are more inclined toward flight. Humans commonly prefer flight, but by no means aren’t capable of fighting, and it is this very diversity that makes humans the most heterogeneous species on the planet.”

As the Director of Graduate Studies, Department of Sociology at Columbia University, it wasn’t often that I got to speak to first-year students. But each year, I would make an appearance at one of the large, auditorium-based classes, shock the graduate student cum instructor, and spend the better part of an hour imparting some of my decades of experience on the young minds, trying not to sound preachy or pontificating.

A young man about halfway up raised his hand, the smirk on his face indicative of his upcoming attempt at some form of wit at my expense.

I nodded at him.

“Professor, aren’t you being politically incorrect by calling humans hetero when it’s so obvious that many are openly gay, or are you of the “don’t ask, don’t tell” caveman mentality?”

There was an immediate rise in the murmuring, a few chuckles, and even a few “oh shits,” but the one I liked best was “watch this,” obviously not a freshman but someone who had attended one of my previous lectures.

“Mister...?” I inquired of him.

“Jarden.”

“Ah yes, Mr. Jarden. Thank you for your helpful insight into human relations. You would be stunningly correct in that humans are most certainly not ‘hetero,’” and I noted with glee that Jarden’s chest was puffing up immodestly, “except that I stated that humans are ‘heterogeneous,’ which means diverse in character or content.” There were a few “Oh, snaps,” but I was by no means finished. “Now, judging by your apparel,” as people in the audience took in his high school varsity-lettered jacket, “you may be spending too much time smashing heads and not enough time enriching yours. I would suggest that you seek the help of the beautiful young lady next to you whom you came in with,” the girl’s eyes peeking up at me from her smartphone, “but from the way she is sitting, her posture, and the eye-roll that she gave when you imparted such wisdom upon all of us, I suspect that your desire to advance your booty call meter with her will be met with a less than desirable response.” Time for the final blow amidst the scattered howls of laughter. “Or perhaps you were simply too enamored with your last test score of 18, not 18 out of 20, Mr. Jarden, but 18 out of 100, the lowest test score in the history of this department. I believe,” as I started to clap, “a round of applause is due to Mr. Jarden.”

The room erupted into thunderous applause and whistles. Mr. Jarden no longer had a smile on his face and had sunk a few inches down into his seat. The girl seated next to him was now the one sporting the smirk and had her eyes locked on me.

Later that afternoon, there was a knock on my office door.

“Come in,” I spoke loudly.

The door opened, and it was the girl from the morning lecture, the one who was seated next to Mr. Unfortunate.

“Ah, how many I help you...?” I left it lingering, looking for a name.

“It’s Lisa, professor. I wanted to stop in and let you know that I don’t have affiliation any longer with Michael other than we share rides,” she saw the puzzled look on my face, “Michael Jarden,” and when the puzzled look disappeared, she smiled and continued. “Anyway, I enjoyed your lecture and wondered if you’d have some time this evening that I could stop by and discuss a few things with you.”

I took a closer look at Lisa. She was a willowy brunette with remarkably green eyes, long hair that just hinted at a preference for curls, and a style of dress that belied her status as a student.

“I’m busy until 10 pm.”

“10 pm is fine; I’ll be studying in the library until then. Thank you, Professor.” And with that, she was gone.

By all means, mused the spider to the fly, come right in.