Chapter 20

Mizz Patel’s turn:

“Thank you, Doctor Seavers, for allowing me this visit,” I said. I know, this sounds so deferential. My mother drilled into me that a little subservience is often the key to opening doors, so I determined from previous conversation with this man that it would be a good approach.

What do I gain? Position. Certainly not for ME. My position within Auburn University is set. I am comfortable, my reputation enhanced by the fact that some of the students I recruited, the Sisterhood, the Munchkins, have brought great credit upon our science and engineering departments. No, my friend, this is not about benefiting Aneeta Patel, this is about making a path for two young ladies, Deena and Haley Simon.

“I am glad that you elected to visit,” he said. “Haley and Deena Simon are pushing our university’s procedures, much as Carlita Johnson has done. You say, however, that these two may be ahead of Carlita in capability?”

“It is likely,” I said.

“I discussed their mathematical prowess. I looked at ACT and SAT scores. I have had them interview at length with several professors at my university. Frankly, I am worried that we may be overestimating their capabilities. I have never...”

“I understand, Doctor Seavers,” I said. “Many at Auburn had similar reservations. I think I may be able to help, though. Let me introduce you to my chauffeur...”

“Chauffeur?”

“Yes, she flew me here.”

“I don’t see what bearing that has...”

“Indulge me.”

“Certainly.”

“There’s a red-haired girl in your lobby. Can you have your receptionist send her in to talk with us?”

“Certainly.” He punched his phone. “Is there a red-headed young lady sitting there?” Pause. “Yes?” Pause. “Would you please direct her to my office?”

We waited a few moments. I did not speak, allowing the silence, for effect. Sometimes I enjoy a bit of drama.

Knock on the door. “Come in,” Doctor Seavers said.

Cindy stepped in. Cindy in her everyday togs, looking like a college student ready for a day on campus – jeans, comfortable shirt, athletic shoes – tasteful although quite informal.

She looked at me, then at Doctor Seavers.

I took a breath. And a chance. “Doctor Seavers, I’d like to introduce you to Doctor Cynthia Richards, bachelor’s in mathematics, master’s in electrical engineering, PhD in physics, research fellow at Los Alamos, MIT and Stanford, department head for robotics development for 3Sigma Robotics, affiliated with Auburn University, Google and the Department of Defense. Also a commercial pilot with instructor, multi-engine and instrument ratings. Cindy is the youngest person ever to receive a doctorate at Auburn. The paper she defended for her degree was also a subject of much interest at Los Alamos.”

He looked Cindy up and down, seeing what I described. It’s Cindy in her ‘flying togs’, which are the same as what Cindy wears 95% of the time.

“Good morning, Doctor Seavers,” Cindy said.

“Good morning, Doctor Richards. You’re rather a phenomenon.”

“Thank you. My friends Haley and Deena are poised to mirror me, sir.”

“And you’re confident of this?”

“Mizz Aneeta has not been wrong yet. I’ve been trying to get them back into Alabama with us, but Deena’s family situation keeps her here. Her dad -- Haley’s husband, is the new manager of our facility here.”

“I see. I get the distinct feeling that we will be working closely with you on their education.”

“More likely we will together direct their learning. It’s like pouring water into a bucket and telling it to make sure it fills in the corners,” Cindy smiled.

“I like that analogy, Doctor Richards,” he said, his smile broadening.

“Oh, please, I feel so awkward when somebody calls me ‘Doctor Richards’,” she returned. “I rather enjoy being Cindy. Even if it’s ‘Cindy who knows things’.”

More smiles. “All right, Cindy who knows things. I know some people who change colors if we do not acknowledge their doctorates. Now, Deena and Haley ... Mizz Patel?”

“We at Auburn would like to keep them in at least one of our degree programs, either engineering or mathematics. We are prepared to work out a schedule by which they can meet our engineering requirements by distance learning, wherein they meet an instructor, bring the books home, and return to campus for oral and written examinations as the instructor may warrant to establish comprehension.”

“Is that what you did, Cindy?” Doctor Seavers posed.

“Modified somewhat. We were living in town there. I sometimes visited an instructor in the middle of working through a class, sometimes not. I was interviewed by instructors, by the overseeing staff of the School of Engineering, and on one occasion, the chancellor himself sat in on an interview. They made very sure that I was NOT taking shortcuts. Mizz Aneeta is prepared to do the same for Deena and Haley.”

“I would like to talk with one or two of your professors, if you do not mind, Cindy. Mizz Patel.”

“I can give a list,” I said.

“Seriously, Cindy ... Research fellow with Los Alamos?”

“I am. So is my year older adopted sister, Doctor Dominique Granger.”

“And you think that Deena and Haley can be in the same arena?”

“Or they can be entry-level drudges in an engineering house. But they can be engineers in record time here.”

“I think I’m forming an opinion,” he said. “I think we can formulate a path forward for both our universities, Doctor Patel.”

“I am pleased to hear that,” I said. “It will be good for Deena and Haley. Your university will receive some notoriety, and so will ours...”

“And two bright young students will become the sort of people who bring forth good things for all of us,” Cindy added.

“Okay,” Doctor Seavers said. “So Cindy, what good things are YOU bringing forth?”

I watched Cindy do that demure ‘who, me?’ thing.

“I’m herding cats in a robotics lab. My staff is large, but the core consists of three twelve year olds, two girls and a boy, and an eleven-year-old. And sir, if you find me unnerving, I can introduce you to Terri Addison, who’s supposed to get a baccalaureate in December with Rachel Weissman. Auburn just categorically refused to anoint an eleven year old, so Vicki Duncan has to wait. I think that while she’s waiting, Derek Helton, the twelve year old boy, will catch up to her. He’s late to the game.”

“But what are you DOING there?”

“Robots. Semi-autonomous robots. Hardened military robots. Little smart robots for specific functions like site security, search and rescue, just hanging around and being helpful, whatever idea comes out. We have a staff of college grad and student engineers and programmers and technicians, and we make some very interesting machines. Some of them are getting harder and harder to think of as ‘just machines’. One of them was ring-bearer at my mom’s wedding.”

“Do you have pictures?”

“We have our own YouTube channel,” she said. “Here’s my card. The YouTube URL is on the back. And QR code if you want to use your smartphone to watch.”

I’m watching one of MY students at work and it makes me feel very good. Cindy. Confident and self-assured and in control. Now, if I can only have a part in getting Haley and Deena to this stage.

Doctor Seavers and I talked for twenty more minutes before we decided we’d reached an agreement. I left his office with an air of satisfaction, but you must know that I will be watching MY new students, and I reserve the ability to get very aggressive with my own Auburn University if I find that this arrangement is not working.

I know that Auburn has not awarded engineering degrees for long-distance students, but then I remind myself that only a few years before, that it had not awarded engineering degrees to fifteen year old girls, so I think I could play my best cards to force the issue if I deem it necessary.

Cindy and I end up visiting Haley’s school where we talk with her high school guidance counselor and observe Haley conducting a bit of a math class for some of her fellow students.

Following that excursion, we returned to the hotel to prepare for dinner this evening. Cindy has selected a restaurant based on our conversations. We expect to meet with Deena and Haley and Haley’s unlikely husband as well as Carlita Johnson, her husband Dave and their ‘friend’.

Bill’s turn:

Sometimes I feel like I’m in the middle of a carnival ride. Here I am, there’s no way to get off, so I just as well sit back and ‘enjoy’ it, where ‘enjoy’ may mean surprised, apprehensive or really really happy.

Still, many days are a surprise. Surreal. Funny.

Last week we’d gone out for dinner and on the way back we stopped at a superstore for a few items. I went in with Haley and Deena. Haley holds the household credit cards and we’ve had plenty of conversations about spending. Deena, being our daughter, gets an allowance, transferred weekly to her prepaid credit card.

Deena laid her purchases on the counter, the young lady at the register rang them up. $25.81.

“I DID it,” Deena exclaimed. “The ROOT of all EVIL!”

The girl at the register looked perplexed. I hid my own questions.

Haley started laughing. “It IS. It REALLY IS!”

“Okay,” I said. “Let me in on the joke.”

“Daa-aadddd!” Deena feigned a whine with that evil grin on her face. “Six-six-six, you know, 666, in the Bible, is the ultimate evil. Twenty-five point eight one is the square root. So, the root of all evil...”

She and Haley watched my face.

“Gahhhh,” I said. “That’s HORRIBLE.”

“But numerically correct,” Haley poked.

The poor girl at the register sort of looked at me.

“Math joke,” I said.

“Ohhhhhh okayyyyyy,” she said, smiling dubiously.

Tonight, though ... dinner with ... What would YOU call them? Cindy Richards, that’s Doctor Richards in one venue, Cindy of the Skies in another, is one. Doctor Aneeta Patel, recruiter for Auburn University’s School of Engineering, is another. There’s a ‘family’ – Dave Johnson, his official wife, a little raven-haired Guatemalan girl, and their ‘friend’ Brindy, a juicy brunette with soft blue eyes.

And me and my wife and my daughter.

Dinner. Table for eight. Not once was football mentioned. We did get Cindy’s opinion of a hundred thousand dollars’ worth of student loans for a degree in comparative literature.

“She’s getting a job as a librarian,” she said. “Terribly sweet girl. Intelligent? Sure. But thoughtfulness wasn’t her long suit. I told her that if she went back and fleshed out that degree to something we could use, we’d hire her.”

Deena poked me. “Dad! That’s it! You KNOW how I love writing, and I’m GOOD at it.”