Chapter 8: An Opportunity

Just after three in the afternoon Sharon was with some graduate students, discussing some esoteric grammar changes between classical and modern Arabic when the secretary to the Dean of Languages knocked gently on the door came into her study.

"The sign says busy," Professor Klein remarked tartly.

"Your telephone was diverted to me," explained the timid girl.

"Yes. That is because I didn't want to be disturbed."

The girl quailed visibly but persisted, "There is a call for you."

Getting no reaction beyond a blank stare, she added, "On the telephone."

"Go away, and tell them to ring after four o'clock but before half after," was the response.

"But ... but..." The secretary seemed on the point of bursting into tears.

"But what?" snapped the thoroughly exasperated Professor.

"It's ... it's the President who wants to speak with you," she finally managed to say.

"The President? Of the University?" The disbelief was evident in Sharon's voice, for the President never concerned himself with any of the internal workings of the University, leaving that to the Board of Deans.

"N-no ... of the United States," she stammered, "I never spoke to ... before ... ever."

"Oh, tell her I'll call her back after this meeting is over. It can't be important."

The graduate students looked as horrified as the secretary at this apparent discourtesy.

Seeing their faces, she explained, "We were at school together and then in the same Sorority, and I helped her a little with her campaign. I expect it's a routine 'thank you' call actually from one of her aides; it is a little galling that it has taken them over a year to get round to it."

When the frightened girl added, "She's holding right now," Sharon finally gave in and pressed a button on her 'phone.

"Hello? Sharon Klein here."

...

"Hello Maria. Sorry it took so long; I was busy and they had to come and fetch me."

...

"When?"

...

"What's so urgent?"

...

"Well, if you insist."

She replaced the 'phone and turned to the secretary, "Tell the Dean I'll be out all day tomorrow and cancel all my classes and meetings. Apologise to them all, but I have been called to the White House for some reason; Maria wouldn't tell me why over the 'phone. Oh, and it was her in person, so now you have spoken to our illustrious President Maria Jeslyn Suarez."

Promptly at eleven the next morning, as instructed, she presented herself at the Pennsylvania Avenue entrance to the Executive Office Building next to the White House. After the first of a number of identity checks she was escorted deep into the building, down some stairs, along what felt like miles of passages, up more stairs and then told to wait outside a door where a large man in an ill-fitting suit stood. By then her bona fides had been checked four times.

'Why do they call the President's bodyguard the Secret Service when they are so obviously just that?' she mused.

The door opened and an aide said, "Please come in," whereupon she found herself in the Oval Office.

"Professor Klein?" asked an aide, who looked as though he should still be in grade school.

"That has been checked four times since I stepped off the street. Do you really think I would be here if I were someone else?" she snapped.

"Sorry, ma'am. The President just stepped out for a moment and will be with you shortly."

Soon after that, Maria came into the room and greeted her effusively.

"Sharon, so good of you to come. I have a problem I want you to solve for me."

The Professor was cautious, "I don't know about that. I lost a lot of time during the campaign and I haven't caught up at the University yet."