Chapter 6

Every university of any size has one. A small area of land that has been set aside as sacred ground – made holy by the blood, sweat, and tears of generations of students. In the manner of a shrine, the university builds seats surrounding that patch of turf so that students, past and present, can come, and, as observers, participate in the Saturday ritual called College Football.

On this, the first day of school, the groundskeeper made a discovery that turned the whole university on its' head. There, in the center of that most sacred places of the university, was a ramshackle shack made of material taken from one section of the seats. A tendril of black smoke leaked out a crooked chimney. Sounds of fighting, bickering, and yelling were nearly muted by the constant sound of hammer hitting anvil.

The groundskeeper, either having a heart attack or doing a very good job of faking one, staggered back to the locker room where the coaches were reviewing the plans their first home game of the season. The words that came out of his mouth were so incredible that the coaches had to see for themselves. They ran from from the locker room to the field. The physical trainer stayed behind to call an ambulance for the groundskeeper.

Sean was headed into the very first class of his college career. It appeared to be a university rule that all Freshmen were required to take at least one eight o'clock class. The rumor was the rule existed so that all students could finish their first year with a solid D in some subject.

Much to Sean's surprise, Henri landed on his shoulder. A number of students, a pitifully small fraction of those stumbling blurry eyed towards their classes, took note of the duck. A few thought it was a figment of their imagination brought about by too much alcohol the previous night.

"The dwarves are in trouble," Henri said.

"Where are they?" Sean asked still making his way to class.

A few more students took note of Sean walking down the hall quacking like a duck. No one was alert enough to make a comment about it, though.

"In the giant nest shaped thing," Henri said.

Sean said, "I'll check it out after class."

"What's a class?" Henri said.

"It's a meeting where we go to learn stuff or get bored," Sean answered.

"That dude is talking to a duck," a student said.

"Can I go?" Henri asked.

"Sure," Sean said.

A coed cooed, "Oh, look at the cute duck."

Henri preened and said, "There's a woman of discerning taste."

"Hey Duck! Hunting season opens up soon. I'll be seeing you," another student said.

Henri said, "Not if I see you first."

"Don't worry about him," Sean said.

Henri said, "I've got a month of target practice before hunting season starts. By then, he'll run when he sees a duck flying overhead."

Sean spotted the room in which his class was going to be held in. He entered and took a seat in the front row. Henri took a seat on the desk next to his. Sean looked around the room.

"We must be early. There are only six of us in here," Sean said.

"This is exciting," Henri quacked.

Professor Gibbons walked into the classroom. He went to the front desk and set his papers down. He looked around the room with a snarl on his face. There was a whole room of seats available, and only one person chose to sit in the front row. The other five people were all seated in the back row.

"I see that you poor miserable excuses for students have not heard about me. I'm sure that you didn't believe the rumors that I like to flunk everyone out of the course in the first two weeks of class so that I don't have to teach an eight o'clock class. That is not a rumor, that is a fact."

Henri quacked, "This isn't going to be boring."

Professor Gibbons roared, "Is that a duck in my class?"

Sean raised his hand and shouted, "Oh! Oh! Call on me!"

"You!" Professor Gibbons screamed while pointing at Sean.

"Yes, it is a duck," Sean answered thinking it was pretty nice to start off a class with an easy question.

"What is a duck doing in my classroom?"

Sean raised his hand and shouted, "Oh! Oh! Call on me!"

"You!" Professor Gibbons said pointing at Sean.

"It came to learn from the smartest nicest teacher on campus," Sean answered.

Henri quacked, "You're laying it on a little thick there."

Professor Gibbons shouted, "Duck! You came to the wrong room for that!"

"This is not going to be boring," Henri said looking around to see if there was a window he could fly out.

Professor Gibbons leaned across the desk and glared at Henri. He said, "I take the school motto very seriously. You will shut up and learn something. Do you hear me, Duck?"

"Yes," Henri quacked.

Sean thought that was worthy of comment. He smiled broadly and gave the man two thumbs up. Professor Gibbons snarled at Sean. Opening up his grade book, Professor Gibbons flipped through the pages until he reached the roster for this particular class. He smiled evilly at the room.

"Jane Andrews..."

A woman's voice squeaked, "Here."

"I wasn't calling roll!"

"Oh."

"What is the purpose of government?" he asked in a bellow.

"I don't know," Jane answered trying to crawl under her desk.

Although she wasn't sure what to expect in college, she surely hadn't expected her first class to be like this. All of her teachers in high school were nice. They didn't yell or bellow like this guy.

"Wrong answer!"

"Sorry," she said near tears.

"Blaine Chaucer. What is the purpose of government?"

Blaine said, "That's what I'm in this class to learn."

"If you had come to this class to learn something, you'd have read the book! Did you? No! You came here expecting to be spoon fed like a little baby. Well, guess what. There will be no babying in my classroom. You are adults and you will act like adults," Professor Gibbons shouted.

Two of the students in the class stood up and ran out of the room. Professor Gibbons watched them leave. He rubbed his hands together and looked down at his role sheet.

"Sean Michaels. What is the purpose of government?"

"It's to protect the people from threats originating from both within and without the geopolitical boundaries over which the government claims sovereignty," Sean answered.

"That's the wr... ," Professor Gibbons started to shout. He paused, he frowned, and then he said, "That's the textbook answer."

"I know. That's where I got it from," Sean said.

Professor Gibbons looked at Sean. He was sitting in the front row and actually was prepared for class. He hadn't had a student do that in years. He muttered, "Damn, there's still four of them left."

Henri quacked, "Five, if you count me."

"Duck! What did you say?" Professor Gibbons bellowed.

Henri quacked, "I said – five, if you count me."

"Ronny Spengler. Are you an anarchist?"

Ronny answered, "I don't know."

"Do you even know what an anarchist is?"

"No."

"Wrong answer!" Professor Gibbons shouted.

Ronny stood up and said, "I don't have to take this!"

"Then leave," Professor Gibbons shouted.

Ronny and another student fled the room. Professor Gibbons said, "Then there were two ... uh ... three if you count the duck."

Professor Gibbons shouted, "Blaine Chaucer. Are you an anarchist?"

"Yes," Blaine said with a smirk. "I don't believe in government."

"Really?" Professor Gibbons asked with a very evil expression on his face.

"Yes," Blaine said smugly.

"What are you going to do when I go over to you, rip your head off, and shit down your neck?" Professor Gibbons asked in a loud roar that probably echoed down the halls of the entire building.

"You can't do that. That's illegal," Blaine said pompously.