No Hurry

Molly thinks she did pretty well on the Counterpoint I exam, thanks to coaching from Pamela and Anna. Counterpoint I covers the first species only, note for note counterpoint in two voices.

Pedagogy at Old Ivy is nothing if not exhaustive. The exam consists of a number of musical snippets which the student must mark either as correct or incorrect, and if incorrect identify the error; a successful student understands the rules of counterpoint, which are precisely enumerated and not subject to debate. The process is tedious, and "creative" students sometimes rebel, to which Mr. Albrechtsberger simply points out that Beethoven and Schubert wrote their greatest music after studying counterpoint, so unless the student has already published music as great as Beethoven's later works she should either get with the program or get out.

With exams finished, Roderick, Molly and Anna load their stuff in the Roadmaster and prepare to head for home. Meanwhile, Mr. Smith awakes in Derbyton, home of the annual Julep Derby. Once a year, all of the beautiful people gather in Derbyton for the running of the thoroughbreds. Women wear funny hats, mint juleps are served, and life pauses for two minutes of intense excitement.

The rest of the year, Derbyton is a dump in the middle of nowhere.

Mr. Smith meets with two clients today. The first is Delicious! Brands, parent company of the global fast food franchises Gangbanger Chicken, El Sombrero Tacos and Cosa Nostra Pizza. In the afternoon, he meets with Kopay Health Care, a leading health insurance provider. He thinks it's funny that Derbyton is the home of fast food chains and a health insurance company.

After meeting with Kopay, Mr. Smith drives the ninety-six miles to Porkopolis. The Interstate highway parallels the Sumbig River (upon which both cities are located). The Sumbig River was named by some fur traders exploring America's wilderness in the early 1700s. Exiting a forest in pursuit of beaver pelts, the explorers happened upon a great body of water and exclaimed "Hey! That's some big river!" The expedition's mapmaker duly noted this.

Porkopolis was a great pig-slaughtering city in the Nineteenth Century (hence the nickname of "Lard City"). Tomorrow, Mr. Smith meets with Fashion Plate, the famous eyewear retailer whose Porkopolis location owes little to economic logic and much to special tax incentives. Unfortunately, the local instances of the Unique Hotel chain, Mr. Smith's favorite home away from home are all sold out. Instead, Mr. Smith stays at Vertigo Suites, the chain whose signature architecture is suites stacked around a vast atrium and accessed by "bubble" elevators and a narrow catwalk with see-through railings.

"I've upgraded you to the top floor," says the desk clerk, brightly. Mr. Smith blanches and, white-knuckled, clutches his overnight bag as the glass-walled elevator whisks him to the top of the atrium. Creeping along the catwalk, back pressed to the wall, Mr. Smith tries to avoid looking down or thinking about the fact that he is currently walking along a cantilevered concrete platform about three feet wide that could come crashing down at any moment, taking him along with it.

Meanwhile, Roderick, Molly and Anna drive home in the Roadmaster. Molly and Roderick decide against stopping along the way to do in the back seat what people do in the back seat of Roadmasters, for several reasons:

(1) Anna is sitting in it.
(2) Molly doesn't think it sounds very comfortable.
(3) Roderick wants to keep that "new car" smell.

In any case, they decided it would be much better to "do it" at home, in their nice comfortable beds, and not in the presence of Anna.

Plus, there is no hurry. They won't be twenty-one for two and a half years, or so.

No Lady Visitors

The History of Banking exam is done. It was a bear, but Roderick thinks he did okay.

Back in his room, he checks for Nigel Farage news. He likes this video.

Molly is studying hard for Counterpoint this evening, so she's not coming over.

Hmm, nothing to do.

Roderick calls his dad.

"Hello!"

"Dad, it's Roderick."

"Hey, there."

"I'm done with exams."

"That's great! How'd they go?"

"Nailed Logic, and did pretty well on the rest."

"Congratulations!"

"Hey, you remember Anna?"

"The tall girl, from Milan?"

"Right."

"Yes, I remember."

"She got a perfect score on everything."

"Wow, smart lady!"

"And she didn't need 'special counseling' with the professors, if you know what I mean."

"Heh. I do know what you mean."

"Molly has her Counterpoint exam tomorrow, and then we come home."

"How's the Roadmaster running."

"It's great, Dad. With that automatic Dynaflow transmission, I don't have to shift for myself."

"Hey, guess who's coming to visit for the Christmas season?"

"Mr. Smiley?"

"Right, we just got his letter today." Mr. Smiley, Clothilde and little Alexander Smiley visit Beauneville twice a year, around Christmastime and in the summer.

"Well, I gotta go."

"OK, then. See you tomorrow evening."

Roderick has no lady visitors this evening, so he looks for more Nigel Farage videos, and finds this one.

Second Sunday in Advent

On Sunday morning, Roderick crawls out of bed to check Google for the latest Nigel Farage stories. He likes this profile in the New York Times.

The lump in his bed emits a muffled groan and Megan crawls out, naked. As she leans over to pick up her clothing, Roderick notices that her buttocks are bright pink.

"So I see you went to see Mr. Whitehead," he says.

"Yes, I did."

"Will he let you into the seminar?"

"Yes, but I need to meet with him weekly to make sure I don't fall behind."

"You're going to be busy next semester."

"Don't I know it! Four classes, Chicks With Glocks and now this. Plus my regular meetings with alumni to demonstrate my ongoing financial need."

"That shouldn't be a problem for you -- demonstrating need, I mean."

"Oh, I am so needy," says Megan.

There is no cantata today in St. Cecilia. Following common practice of the St. Thomas church in Leipzig during Bach's tenure, services for the second through fourth Sundays of Advent are "quiet services", with no music. Bach actually wrote a cantata (BWV 70a) for the Second Sunday of Advent while living in Weimar, but on arrival in Leipzig he rewrote the work for the twenty-sixth Sunday of Trinity. The original version is lost.

Quiet services create spiritual anticipation for Christmas festivities. Also, they give Mr. Pipes and Mr. Mendelssohn a break.

Miss Diana ("Dee") Colletage of the Romance Languages department delivers today's inspirational message: We Love Santa Claus Because He Brings Us Presents.

After the service, Roderick, Molly, Anna, Megan, Henry, Albert, Pamela and Natasha stroll over to the Old Ivy Inn for the regular Sunday brunch. Per usual, they grab the big round table by the fireplace and choose seats carefully to avoid placing Henry near Natasha. Molly sits on Roderick's left and Megan on his right.

Henry waves two sheets of paper. "Scores are in for Rhetoric and Math! Want me to read them?"

Everyone except Natasha agrees that reading the scores aloud sounds like a great idea.

"OK, Rhetoric, first. Roderick, 98; Molly, 83; Anna, 100..."

This last score provokes an outburst of "Wowsa!" and "Congratulations!" Megan pats Anna on the back.

"...Megan, 86; Me, 85; and the slut got 52."

Natasha lifts her nose in the air. "What do you expect? I'm an artist."

"Next, Mathematics. Roderick, 91; Molly, 89, Anna, 100..."

Again with the congratulations.

"...Megan, 80; Me, 99; and a pathetic 37 for the slut. So everyone except Natasha moves to the next level in both subjects."

Natasha doesn't bat an eyelash. "Daddy will fix it for me."

Roderick turns the conversation to more congenial topics. "Pass the scrapple, please!"

Molly turns to Natasha, on her left, and inquires: "When are you going home for Christmas?"

"Next Wednesday or Thursday. By the way, can you pose for me when we get home?"

"I don't know. You like to add things to the picture, and it's a little embarrassing."

"Don't be so puritanical, it was just a sex toy."

"It's kind of personal. I don't care if you use such things, but I don't."

"If I promise to leave out the sex toy will you pose?"

"Of course."

That evening, Roderick and Molly continue their self-imposed separation, so they do not distract one another during Exam Week. Roderick studies quietly for the History of Banking exam tomorrow. A few doors down the hall, Molly and Anna prepare for the Counterpoint final on Tuesday. Megan cleans her Glock; there is no exam for Literature Workshop, so she's done for the semester.

In her suite, Natasha leafs through her 'Molly' sketches, and prepares to be serviced by Umberto.

Punishment

Old Ivy College administers exams in a specially built Examination Building adjacent to East Quad. The exam rooms are well-lit and pleasant, with few distractions. Students taking exams sit at desks that are positioned sufficiently far apart that collaboration is difficult.

Testing procedures make cheating nearly impossible. Students must show credentials to a burly security guard upon entry. Devices of any kind must be stored in lockers. Under the "troika" system, three different professors develop the questions for each exam, and each student receives three sets of questions, so no individual professor knows more than a third of the questions on any one exam.

Megan caught on to this right away. Back in October, while eating lunch with Roderick, she commented about the "troika" system.

"I'm going to have to study," she sighed.

Roderick sipped his drink. "Well, yes, that's kind of why we're here."

"I'd have to blow all three of them to find out what's on the exam."

"That wouldn't be a problem for you, would it?"

Megan feigns outrage. "I'm not that slutty," she says, reaching over and mock-punching him in the shoulder. "But come to think of it..."

"Anyway, some of them aren't into chicks," says Roderick helpfully.

There is no curve. In theory, everyone sitting for an exam can fail it, or get a perfect score. The test measures absolute knowledge, not relative knowledge.

This morning, Roderick has results from the Logic I exam. Perfect score: he's a lock for Mr. Whitehead's Logic II Seminar. Molly, Megan, Anna, Henry, Natasha: not so much. Roderick promises to help Molly and Anna; Henry will buckle down and study harder; Natasha will get her father to pay for tutoring, preferably by someone as well-hung as Umberto. Megan proposes to go and see Mr. Whitehead to see if he will agree to let her into his seminar.

"Better wear kneepads," quips Roderick.

Molly is puzzled. "Why would she do that?" Anna leans over and whispers something. Molly blushes.

"I hear he's into BDSM," says Natasha. "Hope you're feeling submissive."

Megan shivers. "I could totally use some punishment right now."

Anna changes the subject. "How'd everyone do in Rhetoric and Math?"

"They haven't posted the scores yet," says Roderick. "But I thought it was okay." They discuss the exams, and agree that the Rhetoric exam was tough, but the Math exam was fairly easy.

That evening, Roderick sits on his bed reading quietly. He and Molly have pledged not to sleep with one another until exams are finished, to avoid distraction.

Someone knocks on the door. Roderick answers. It's Megan, buxom and bubbly, her hair slightly disheveled.

"Hi, can I come in?" she purrs. "I've been naughty."

Exam Week

It's Exam Week at Old Ivy. Crunch time has arrived.

Let's recap the way things work at Old Ivy. To graduate, students must pass a series of exams. To help students prepare for the exams, the College offers a number of lectures and seminars, but students are not obligated to attend; they are welcome to study on their own or pay for a tutor.

The lectures at Old Ivy are delivered by adjunct faculty and are open to all students. Seminars, on the other hand, are limited to the twelve students with the highest exam scores in the previous level; they are led by senior faculty. Since the senior faculty write the exams, a seminar seat is highly coveted as the professors tend to drop helpful hints about what will be on the exam at the end of the semester. It's a virtuous circle; do well on the first exam and you get into a seminar, which improves your chances of doing well on the next exam.

Senior faculty can admit more students to the seminar at their own discretion. However, students must meet with the professor at the beginning of the semester and demonstrate to the professor's satisfaction that they merit special admission. Old Ivy's Board of Directors has no knowledge of the seemingly affluent lifestyles of senior faculty (considering the low pay), nor are they aware of the puzzling incidence in seminars of attractive young women who seem much less well-prepared than the other students.

Students who do not do so well on the exam must make do with the lectures, which are pretty good, but since the lecturers don't write the exams they can't drop hints. Alternatively, students can hire tutors. There is a cottage industry of tutors -- most of whom are upperclassmen or Old Ivy graduates -- in the vicinity of the college.

The Logic exam was yesterday, and Roderick nailed it. Rhetoric and Mathematics will be tomorrow morning and afternoon, respectively. Elective exams are next week; Roderick has History of Banking on Monday, and Molly has Counterpoint on Tuesday. Then it's off to Beauneville in the Roadmaster.

Roderick and Molly agree to sleep separately through Exam Week, so they won't distract one another with thoughts about doing what people do in the back seat of a Roadmaster. Lily Chang has kindly offered to come over and help Roderick study for Rhetoric, so now she sits next to Roderick on the bed as they review the work of the Sophists, Isocrates, Plato and Aristotle, and Roderick contemplates how surprisingly buxom Lily is for an Asian girl from Minneapolis.

Lily stretches, then begins to remove her shirt. "Do you mind if we study naked?" she inquires. "I think it's so much more relaxing, don't you?"

Roderick doesn't mind at all.

Roderick Pretends to be Shocked

Roderick awakes. Checking Instapundit, he finds this, which makes him want to learn more about statistics and data mining and stuff so he can do the same thing for the Right.

He crawls back into bed and snuggles Molly. They snooze for a little while, then dress, walk down to the Dining Hall, fill their plates and find a table for two.

Roderick leads off the conversation. "Megan wants me to take her for a drive in the Roadmaster."

"That sounds nice."

"She wants to do it in the back seat."

"Wouldn't that be uncomfortable?"

"It's a large back seat."

"Megan has a single room and you have a single room, so why bother with back seats?"

"I told her that it sounds like fun, but you get to go first."

"I should certainly hope so, Mr. Smith," says Molly with mock reproach. "I believe we have a pledge to that effect."

"Indeed we do."

"And we need to keep to our pledge."

"We certainly will."

Molly chews on a piece of bacon for awhile, then inquires: "So when can we go for a ride?"

"Well, we're going to ride home after exams. When are you done with yours?"

"Next Tuesday."

"So we'll drive home on Wednesday."

"Maybe we can pull over to the side of the road somewhere?"

Roderick feigns innocence. "What for?"

Molly feigns reticence. "Well, you know..."

"What?"

"So we can fuck, of course." She giggles.

Roderick pretends to be shocked. Actually, he doesn't have to pretend, as he has never heard Molly use the word 'fuck'. "Why don't we just wait until we get home and do it in your bedroom or mine?"

Molly stands, picks up her tray, then leans over and whispers: "Why wait"? She giggles and departs.

Mr. Whiffle's DeSoto

Browsing on the internet, Roderick stumbles on this. He thinks it's interesting.

He checks for new stuff about Nigel Farage, and finds this, this and this.

At breakfast in the Dining Hall, Roderick fills his plate with scrapple and applesauce, then sits down next to Megan, who is buxom and bubbly.

"How's the writing going?" he inquires.

Megan brightens. "Well, thank you. My novel's almost finished, just polishing the denouement. I have to figure out a way for Basingstoke to reveal his sex-change operation to Charlotte without making Mabel suspect anything. And Charlotte must somehow escape Lady Margaret's dungeon."

"So it's a comedy of manners?"

"Yes, with ample spanking."

Roderick ponders that. Tricky piece of narrative. Well, he thinks, if anyone can write her way out of a dungeon with ample spanking, Megan can.

Megan breaks the silence. "Don't you feel a little creepy driving Mr. Lincoln's car?"

"Not really. It's the Beauneville Way." Roderick refers to the Beauneville Way of Doing Things, which includes keeping cars forever. Mr. Durant down at the DeSoto dealer likes to say that every car he's ever sold is still running, which is only a little bit of sales hyperbole because everyone knows that Mr. Whiffle drove a 1947 DeSoto Club Coupe into the Rushing River on a cold night in January 1954. Mr. Whiffle had consumed one too many glasses of Calvados at the Beaune estate and was on his way to a whorehouse in Stapleton when he missed the steel bridge by about ten yards and went straight into the river. The car sank like a stone and was not seen again, nor was Mr. Whiffle.

So except for Mr. Whiffle's 1947 DeSoto Club Coupe, every car sold by Durand DeSoto is still running. When Chrysler discontinued the brand in 1960, Mr. Durand never took the sign down, but just kept on trading in used cars and keeping the existing stock running. Since Beauneville denizens rarely drive farther than Stapleton, and generally stick to a leisurely pace on the highways, the cars just keep on running.

All this talk about cars is making Megan feel daring. "Maybe we could go for a ride some time and you can fuck me in the back seat."

"That sounds like fun," says Roderick, "but Molly gets to go first."

The Viennese Are A Curious Lot

Roderick and Molly get up early for the drive back to Old Ivy. Quickly, they load their stuff into the Roadmaster. Roderick starts up the beast, shifts the Dynaflow into reverse and backs out into Elm Street. Pausing, he shifts into Drive and hits the gas. A few intersections later they are out on the main road to Old Ivy. The Roadmaster smoothly upshifts and settles into a comfortable speed of thirty-five miles per hour.

"Wow, Molly" says Roderick. "With Dynaflow we don't have to shift for ourselves."

Curled up against Roderick on the bench seat, Molly feels curiously aroused, like she wants to "do it" with Roderick sooner rather than later.

The St. Cecilia Chapel is decked out with holly, ivy and other signs of the Advent season, including little Santa and Rudolph figurines. For the first Sunday of Advent, the Old Ivy Bach Chorale performs the Bach cantata BWV 61 Nun Komm Der Heiden Heiland. During Advent, members of the Old Ivy Chamber Orchestra accompany the Chorale together with Mr. Pipes on the organ. (During Trinity, the Chorale sings with just the organ). Since Bach did not write for the clarinet, Roderick sings in the Bass section.

The text of the Chorale, by Martin Luther, translates roughly as:

Now come, the gentiles' Savior,
As the Virgin's child revealed,
At whom marvels all the world
That God him this birth ordained.

Today's inspirational message by Mr. Macy of the Philosophy Department: Shop Early, We Celebrate the Birth of our Lord.

After the service, Roderick takes Molly, Anna, Megan, Henry, Albert and Pamela out to the parking lot to visit the new car. No sign of Natasha -- she's being serviced by Umberto.

Roderick's Roadmaster squats in the parking lot like a very large gleaming curvaceous thing that squats in parking lots. Sun gleams off the chrome bumpers, side mirrors, "bullseye" hood ornament and the four VentiPorts on each swept-back fender.

"Wow!" says Henry. "It's a Roadmaster!"

Molly, dressed in her customary plaid flannel shirt and jeans, rubs her thigh discreetly. She's feeling turned on again by the thought of sitting on that bench seat

"Can we go for a ride?" asks Megan.

"Sure," says Roderick. "Pile in." So they do, with Molly sitting between Roderick and Megan on the front bench seat; Henry, Anna, Pamela and Albert occupy the back.

Roderick navigates the sedan down College Avenue at a safe speed, then accelerates on the main road. The Roadmaster wobbles along at top speed on its squishy suspension.

"Whoa!" exclaims Albert. "We're doing at least thirty!"

Molly feels something damp between her legs. Megan thinks that now would be pretty good for some "me-time". Pamela, on the other hand, regrets that she failed to mention her propensity for car sickness.

Later, Roderick looks on YouTube for recordings of the cantata they sang this morning. He likes this one, though he thinks it curious that some of the violinists are not from China, and there is no sign of buttock-fondling among members of the choir. The Viennese are a curious lot, he thinks.

Roadmaster

On Saturday, Roderick awakes to the morning sun. He pokes the warm lump next to him; Molly moans and pulls the covers over his head.

Stretching, Roderick pads over to the laptop on his desk and surfs. He likes this story about Nigel Farage, and forwards a link to Lily Chang.

The memorial service for Mr. Lincoln is at ten this morning. Roderick, Molly and the Smiths breakfast on scrapple and applesauce, then walk the short distance to the Church of Nothing, where they meet the Blooms. Filing into church, they occupy one of the long pews in this order: Mr. and Mrs. Bloom, Mary Bloom, Margaret Bloom, Catherine Bloom (accompanied by Mr. Fuzzums and Miss Kitty), Roderick, Molly, Mrs. Smith and Mr. Smith.

It is customary at the Church of Nothing that the pastor places an urn holding the cremains of the departed on a table before the alter. The urn is flanked by a rosebud on either side (contributed by the Church) and additional flowers contributed by well-wishers and loved ones.

Today, the late Mr. Lincoln rests in his urn, flanked by two solitary rosebuds.

Catherine tugs on Roderick's elbow. "I'm having a nice day," she says.

Roderick puts his finger to his lips to shoosh her. The memorial service is starting.

A memorial service at the Church of Nothing is quite simple. There is no ceremony, sermon or formal remarks. Instead, members of the congregation simply sit quietly and, when the spirit moves them, rise individually and share their thoughts about the departed. When all have said their peace, the service is over.

Silence.

Mrs. Bickle rises. "He never smiled or anything." She resumes her seat.

Silence.

Miss Shlepstein from City Hall rises. "He was a nasty old man and I hated it when he came to my office."

More silence.

Roderick rises. "We used to wash his car." He sits down again. Molly noodges him.

Cough, cough, cough.

A man Roderick doesn't recognize rises. "He turned me down for a loan." He sits.

Silence.

Miss Prickle, a nurse who works for Dr. Schlong, the urologist, rises. "He groped me every time he came to the office."

The service over, Roderick and Molly walk home with Mr. and Mrs. Smith. On arrival, Mr. Smith beckons to Roderick. "Come on, there's something I want to show you in the garage."

Roderick shoves open the door to the carriage house out back -- which the Smiths use as a garage. Next to Mr. Smith's Studebaker Commander Roderick sees Mr. Lincoln's shiny black 1948 Buick Roadmaster four-door sedan resting comfortably.

Mr. Smith waves a pair of keys. "It's yours," he says, beaming. "Bought if from Mr. Lincoln a couple of months ago, when he went to the hospital."

"Wow" says Roderick. "A Roadmaster!"

Opening the driver's side door with a creak, Roderick slides beside the wheel, while Molly clambers in the other side and slides across the bench seat to snuggle next to him. Firing up the 150hp power plant and shifting the Dynaflow transmission into reverse, Roderick carefully backs the behemoth out of the garage and down the driveway much the way an ocean liner leaves its berth.

Shifting into Drive and pressing the gas, Roderick commands the beast to lumber up Elm Street. Passing twenty miles per hour, he thinks to himself that this moment is everything he's ever dreamed about: motoring up the street in a Roadmaster, with Molly by his side.