Anna

On the way to Mr. Spinoza's Logic class, Roderick bumps into a stunningly beautiful young lady. She is rather tall, with over-the-shoulder length blonde hair, bright blue eyes and an aristocratic nose; her bright red t-shirt and blue jeans only partially mask voluptuous curves.

"Oh!", says Roderick. "I'm sorry. Are you OK?"

She smiles. "I'm fine, thank you."

"My name is Roderick...this is Molly...and this is Megan."

The young lady waves shyly. "I'm Anna."

Roderick, Molly and Megan sit together in class. Anna sits by herself, in the back row.

Molly is in a funk. "My Italian teacher is the worst teacher ever," she whispers. I don't know what I'm going to do. I have to learn Italian to pass the Music exam."

Roderick is about to comment when Mr. Spinoza marches in the door. "Let's talk later," he whispers back.

Later arrives, but Molly is elsewhere. Roderick and Megan are sitting on his bed working on syllogisms. Megan has something other than syllogisms in mind. "Now that I'm your girlfriend, when are we going to do it?"

Roderick ponders. "Well, I really don't know."

"You want to, right?"

"Oh, yes, indeed."

"Well, what about now?" meows Megan, cuddling in her most alluring manner.

"Molly and I are pledged to be each other's 'first'."

"Oh!," says Megan, slightly surprised. "Aren't you already....?"

Roderick smiles. "No, not yet."

Megan is stumped. "Well, that's a shocker...I just assumed..."

Megan's surprise is not at all surprising. Among the youth of Beauneville, it is considered settled fact that Roderick and Molly are doing it. This is most likely due to an offhand conversation between Roderick and Betsy Flapper, when he praised Molly's "passion"; she thought he was speaking about carnal knowledge, while in fact he was speaking about Molly's rendering of Beethoven's Piano Sonata #17, which is more generally known as "The Tempest".

Roderick smiles. "Life is full of surprises."

Megan looks puzzled. "So, you have two girlfriends?"

"I don't know. Molly and I don't really think about that."

"You're just friends, then?"

"No, not exactly."

Fortunately, Megan has a high tolerance for ambiguity, mostly due to her low tolerance for rationality of any sort.

"Well!" she says. "You don't mind if I..."

"Of course not." Roderick has no illusions about Megan's moral restraint.

Meanwhile -- elsewhere -- Molly is in the Conservatory where the voice and piano students are gathered for a meeting with Mr. Pfitzner. Each year, the Music department pairs vocalists with pianists so they can work together on lieder.

Molly sees Anna, the blonde from Logic class, standing by the Bosendorfer. She walks over and stands next to her. Anna smiles.

Mr. Pfitzner explains the procedure, then announces the pairings. "Albertson, you're working with Figgenbaum. Babcock, work with Hartman. Bloom?"

Molly raises her hand. Mr. Pfitzner hands her a card. "Work with Zemlinsky. Schultz-Herda?"

Anna, standing next to Molly, touches her elbow. "I'm Zemlinsky", she smiles.

That evening, Molly, Megan, Roderick and Anna dine together, after which Molly joins Roderick in his room. They study a little, then retire.

In the dark, Molly curls up in Roderick's arms. "You started to tell me something in Logic this morning, something about Italian," he whispers.

"It's something I need to mull," Molly whispers back.

"Megan wanted to know when we're going to do it."

"What did you tell her?"

"That you and I have a pledge."

Molly squeezes Roderick and smiles.

Wednesday

"The history of banking depends on the history of money"; so says Mr. Rothschild in his History of Banking lecture. Attendance is light; Roderick has plenty of places to sit.

Last week, Mr. Rothschild covered the prehistory of money -- the development of grain-money and cattle-money, the emergence of obsidian as a precious metal around 12,500 B.C., until it was replaced by copper and silver in the third millennium B.C, and the introduction of coinage. All of this was illustrated with pictures of objects used as money.

Today, Mr. Rothschild speaks of Sumerian civilization and the propensity of denizens therein to deposit valuables at the temple in return for a receipt. The gods, so the Sumerians believed, would protect their valuables; a reasonable proposition unless the gods decide to zap you.

Meanwhile, Molly has her first Italian class, which is held in one of the seminar rooms on the second floor of the Main hall. It's a small class; some music students and there is a smattering of others.

The door bangs open and in strides Mr. Manzoni. He slams down his books and addresses the class. "Il mio nome è il signor Manzoni e d'ora in poi le uniche parole che parlerà sarà italiano. Mi hai capito?"

Dead silence. The students stare at Mr. Manzoni blankly. Irritated, he scans a sheet of paper, then bellows: "Signorina Bloom!"

Dead silence.

"Bloom!"

Suddenly, Molly realizes that Mr. Manzoni is calling on her. She raises her hand. "Here!"

Mr. Manzoni explodes. "No! No! No! No! No! No! No!" (Molly understands that part.) "In Italiano!"

Molly stares at him uncomprehendingly.

Manzoni looks like he will explode. Lurching to the whiteboard, he writes "Il mio nome è Molly Bloom", underlining it several times. "Dire che! Dire che!", he says, jumping up and down and pointing to the phrase.

Molly continues to stare at him.

Meanwhile, in Literature Workshop, Megan reads aloud from the draft of her novel:

Charlotte sprawled on her bed in her evening gown for some time. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. She ran to the door and opened it, expecting to see Cassandra. It was Rex, the Stevens' rough-looking but handsome groom. He pushed his way into the room.

"Good evening Miss Charlotte."

"G-g-good evening, sir."

"Have you behaved yourself today?"

"N-no, sir."

"Then I shall have to spank your large pale bottom."

"Y-yes, sir."

Again, there is a knock. Charlotte opens the door; it is Bentley, the Stevens' rough-looking but handsome butler. "Good evening, Miss Charlotte, I hope I have not disturbed you. Lady Margaret wishes to speak with you in the Library."

"Lady Margaret? What ever for?"

"She did not indicate the purpose of her query, but asked me to convey to you the urgency of your attendance."

Miss Joyce interrupts. "Thank you, Megan. I'm sure we're all looking forward to hearing more next week."

At lunch, Roderick shared with Megan and Molly his fascinating discoveries about the Sumerian banking system. Megan hung on every word, but Molly felt distracted.

Miss Charlotte's Suitor

Inspired in equal parts by Jane Austen and E.L. James, Megan continues to work on her novel:

"Who is that rough-looking but handsome gentleman?" whispered Miss Charlotte Stevens to her dear sister Cassandra as they stood near the punch bowl. She gestured to a rough-looking but handsome gentleman standing near the entry to the ballroom of Puddleton Abbey, the handsome Georgian house in Yorkshire where the Stevens sisters dwelt with their distinguished but impoverished parents, and which they soon must sell unless the daughters could secure an income through astute marriage.

"Oh!" exclaimed Cassandra, her partially exposed breasts quivering beneath the formal gown that partially exposed her ample bosom. "Why that is Mr. Basingstoke, heir to a great fortune and the object of great desire among the young ladies because he is rough-looking and handsome, but mostly because he is heir to a great fortune. Miss Biddle says he is hung like an Arabian stallion."

"Does she now? And how ever would Miss Biddle know?"

"She has her sources. Miss Biddle also says he has an eye for you."

"An eye for me? What ever do you mean?"

Cassandra leaned over and whispered: "It means he wants to rip off your bodice, bend you over a chair and ravish you with his stallionesque manhood."

Charlotte blushed. "Shhh. He's coming this way." She fanned herself rapidly as Basingtoke made his way through the crowd, stood before them and bowed respectfully.

"The Misses Stevens, I believe? Miss Biddle said I should introduce myself. I am Basil Basingstoke."

Charlotte feigned disinterest. "We know of no Basingstokes among the better families."

"It's true," Basil said wryly. "My family is of no great distinction. But I am rich nevertheless, which makes me a suitable marriage candidate in Georgian England, especially for young ladies who lack an income of their own."

The orchestra began playing a minuet. Mr. Basingstoke extended his hand to Charlotte. "May I have the honor of this minuet?"

Charlotte nodded; they glided to the dance floor and joined the minuet. As they danced together, Charlotte inquired: "Is it true what they say, Mr. Basingstoke, that you are hung like an Arabian stallion?"

"Why yes, Miss Charlotte, I believe it is."

"And is it also true that you wish to tear off my bodice, bend me over a chair and ravish me with your stallionesque manhood?"

"Yes, indeed. And first I wish to spank your large pale bottom."

Charlotte stopped dancing. "Sir, you are not a gentleman, and you shall never touch my large pale bottom." And with that, Charlotte flounced out of the ballroom and up the grand staircase to her bedroom.

Megan pauses and smiles. "Methinks Charlotte has not seen the last of Mr. Basingstoke," she says to herself. She continues to write.

Charlotte sprawled on her bed in her evening gown for some time. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. She ran to the door and opened it, expecting to see Cassandra. It was Rex, the Stevens' rough-looking but handsome groom. He pushed his way into the room.

"Good evening Miss Charlotte."

"G-g-good evening, sir."

"Have you behaved yourself today?"

"N-no, sir."

There is a knock on Megan's door. "Hey, Megan, it's me." It's Roderick, coming by to offer help on syllogisms.

"Damn!" mutters Megan. "Just getting to the good part." She closes the word processor, then runs to the door to greet Roderick.

Meanwhile, in Human Figure class, the instructor asks Molly to assume a pose as if she stands beneath a waterfall with her arms uplifted to catch the falling water. She does so. The aspiring artists, of which there are significantly more this year than last for some reason, gather around to interpret Molly's lovely form. It's cold in the room, and Molly has goose bumps. She thinks about Beethoven's Piano Sonata Opus 27 #1 in E-flat Major Quasi Una Fantasia, the one with the hilarious Scherzo whose recapitulation is not exactly like the exposition, the humor being in the "not exactly". The thought makes Molly giggle.

Subarboreal Love

Molly's schedule is settled. She will take Logic with Mr. Spinoza, Rhetoric with Mr. McLuhan, Math with Mr. Heytesbury and Italian with Mr. Manzoni. Old Ivy has no formal language requirements. However, since certain exams include texts in the original language, command of languages appropriate to the field of study is necessary to pass the exam. For a students like Molly seeking to take the Music exams, some Italian, French and a smattering of German are de rigeur.

Molly will also take piano with Mr. Clementi, and organ with Mr. Pipes.

Roderick has Logic, Rhetoric and Math with Molly and Megan, but needs to settle his electives. Mr. Smoot wasn't too encouraging about Political Economy, so last week he sat in on Mr. Rothschild's History of Banking class. He decides to visit Mr. Rothschild in his office.

"Excuse me, Mr. Rothschild?"

"Yes." It's a statement, not a question.

"My name is Roderick Smith."

"Uh-huh."

"I'm interested in a career managing investment portfolios, and I was wondering if I should take your class."

"Of course you should take my class. Everyone should take my class."

"Do you think it will help my career?"

"How could I possibly know that? I'm a professor, I study banking."

"But isn't college supposed to get me started in a career?'

"Pish posh. You come to Old Ivy to learn stuff. Then when you leave, you will go and learn entirely new stuff. That's how it works."

"That doesn't sound very efficient."

Mr. Rothschild shrugs. "What can I do? I'm a professor, I study banking."

Roderick decides to take the class.

In the afternoon, Roderick helps Megan with Logic, a truly Sisyphean task. Mr. Spinoza believes in teaching logic by immersion, requiring students to complete endless syllogisms. They are working on Aristotelian categorical propositions. Roderick writes an example for Megan:

Major premise: All humans are mortal.
Minor premise: All Greeks are humans.
Conclusion: All Greeks are mortal.

"Now you try." He hands Megan the pen. Megan writes:

Major premise: Men like buxom women.
Minor premise: Megan is buxom.
Conclusion: Roderick likes Megan.

"Hmmm", says Roderick. "Not quite. The correct conclusion is 'Men like Megan'."

Megan giggles. "Yes, that's true."

"Now to make your syllogism correct," Roderick continues, "the major premise would have to be 'Roderick likes buxom women'."

"That's true, isn't it?" says Megan, alluringly. Roderick notices, again, that the top two buttons of her blouse are unbuttoned, revealing...well, you know.

Roderick avers that he does, in fact, like buxom women, though this in no way detracts from his feelings for Molly, who is not buxom.

"Want to spend a little time under the Kissing Tree?" asks Megan, coyly.

"Let's finish these syllogisms", says Roderick, without committing to subarboreal love.

Later that evening, in bed side by side with Molly, Roderick traces his finger down her figure from shoulder to hips.

When Roderick Wakes Up Sunday Morning...

When Roderick wakes up Sunday morning, Molly is curled up in his arms. He sits up slightly in bed. Molly groans the way people do when they're waking up, stretches like a cat then snuggles up tighter, her blue eyes wide open. Roderick thinks Molly is beautiful. She really is, especially so when nude and snuggled up.

"Megan Cupcake wants to be my girlfriend", he says.

"That's nice", says Molly.

"You don't mind?"

"No, not at all. Just remember our pledge."

"I remember."

Some people think Molly is cold and unfeeling. In fact, the opposite is true, as anyone who has ever heard her play Schubert's A-Minor Piano Sonata D. 845 -- the one that closes with a diabolical Rondo in Allegro Vivace, which Molly plays like a whirlwind. Listen to Molly play Schubert and you feel her passion.

Of course, the guys who hit on Molly and come up empty-handed don't generally hang out in the concert hall. For the most part, they are guys who witness her modeling in the nude for Human Figure class, or guys who know other guys who witness her modeling in the nude for Human Figure class, and interpret Molly's willingness to openly display her lovely breasts and private parts as a desire for sexual contact with anyone who asks.

Many of these guys are familiar with Molly's sister Mary, who is not only willing but eager to indulge with any guy who proposes the right sum of cash. Hence, you can understand that Molly's disinclination to cavort with these same gentlemen is often taken as a lack of feeling, especially when you consider that the more aggressive lads risk a well-placed karate kick to the groin.

Hence, the scuttlebutt about Molly among a certain set boils down to (1) she's incredibly gorgeous and tempting, but (2) she's a cold bitch who will bust your balls.

The real truth about Molly is simply this: she has no interest in passing dalliances, and she is completely one with Roderick in a manner that is beyond analysis or explanation. It is simply a fact that they have always been together as long as they can remember, and neither can imagine a commitment to anyone other than one another. This transcends labels. Molly doesn't care if Megan wants to be Roderick's girlfriend, because Molly knows that Roderick has exactly one girlfriend.

Molly's faith in Roderick is well-placed. He will never violate the pledge they have with one another to be each other's "first". He can't imagine breaking this pledge, because Roderick will do anything for Molly and would never do anything against her.

He does, however, like the look of Megan's ample cleavage and wouldn't mind putting his head down on it.

In the afternoon, Megan comes over to Roderick's house so the three of them can work on syllogisms. There is much work to do: Mr. Spinoza teaches logic by immersion, and has assigned many syllogisms to work out. Molly may be passionate, but syllogistic logic escapes her. Megan has a flair for gossip and a literary bent, but she is hopeless at rational thought. Roderick helps them both.

Megan writes little love notes to Roderick on her worksheet. Roderick smiles kindly.

After Sunday supper, it's back to Old Ivy in Megan's Mustang. Before leaving, Roderick gives Knuckles and Laddie a hug, but the cats are out and about and unavailable for hugs.

Back in East Quad, Megan has a large suitcase, which Roderick totes to her room. She invites him in to sleep over, which he does whilst keeping his pledge to Molly.

Batshit Crazy

A rainy day in Beauneville. Roderick and Molly drove home last night in Megan's bright red 1965 Mustang convertible. Molly slept over.

Today for breakfast: scrapple and applesauce. At Roderick's suggestion, Molly dresses for breakfast. "My parents aren't used to dining with nude girls", he explains.

"So what classes are you taking?" asks Mr. Smith, slurping his coffee.

Roderick has a mouthful of scrapple and applesauce. "Mmmmpf mmpf mmmmmmmmmpff", he says, gesturing. He swallows. "My classes aren't completely settled. I'm definitely taking Mr. Spinoza's Logic class and Mr. McLuhan's Rhetoric class and Mr. Heytesbury's Mathematics class, but I haven't been able to speak yet with Mr. Strnk or Mr. Rothschild".

Mr. and Mrs. Smith nod. Mrs. Smith turns to Molly. "What about you, Molly?" she asks.

"I'm taking Logic, Rhetoric and Mathematics with Roderick, and studying piano with Mr. Clementi, but I still have to work out my electives".

Knuckles, who sleeps in a little bed in the corner of the kitchen, awakes.

Later in the morning, Molly walks over to the Church of Nothing. There is a big pipe organ left from the days when people used to be devout -- nowadays, it's mostly used to accompany Tibetan throat singing during the weekly Taize service. Opening the main door of the sanctuary, Molly bumps into Mary Bloom in her long white dress. Mary is on her way home from a meeting of the Young Virgins youth group.

Mary grabs Molly by the arm. "You should join our group! You really are a virgin aren't you?"

Molly wriggles free and steps up to the organ. Switching it on, she hears a great sigh as the bellows fills with air. Releasing one of the flute stops, she plays a chorale without the pedals, just to hear the sound. It's nice.

She pulls out all the stops and ramps up the volume. It's truly grand.

Kicking off her shoes, she tries the pedals. Just a scale at first -- she's seen a video of a professional organist play the pedals, which she tries to emulate -- heel and toe, heel and toe, heel and toe. Not smooth. Again. Heel and toe, heel and toe, heel and toe. Sloppy, very sloppy. She's determined to get it right.

Meanwhile, Megan visits Roderick. They sit on the porch for awhile, but since the rain has stopped she suggests they put the top down on the Mustang and go for a ride. Roderick thinks that's a great idea -- and so they drive off, Megan behind the wheel, speeding along the back roads through the apple orchards. Out on Eastmeadow Road, Megan pulls over to the side of the road and stops in a quiet place underneath a huge old oak tree.

From the driver's seat, Megan looks at Roderick inquisitively. "Is Molly your girlfiend?" she asks. "Because I want to be your girlfiend."

Roderick isn't quite sure how to answer. His relationship to Molly is difficult to categorize and explain to others. Also, he's concerned about Megan's feelings and very aware that Megan is batshit crazy and carries a Glock, which is at present strapped to her hip. He scans the horizon.

"OK, then", says Megan, starting the car. "It's settled, then. I'm your girlfiend."

They drive off at high speed. Roderick sees considerable advantages to having two girlfriends, though the benefit is somewhat less when one is armed and batshit crazy.

Not-Zaftig Odalisque

There is a room at the East end of the Old Ivy Main building called the Conservatory, so named because the morning sun floods the room through large windows. There is a large collection of potted plants, orchids, lemon trees and such, but the most prominent feature of the room is the Bosendorfer Imperial Grand piano, the kind with 97 keys. Access to the room is strictly limited; Mr. Clementi teaches piano in this room, and certain of his students -- including Molly -- are permitted to practice here.

Molly arrives early, unlocks the door and enters. Her eyes widen; the piano is a beauty.

She sits, and adjusts the bench. Touching the keys reverently with her long graceful fingers, she pauses, then launches Beethoven's Opus Two F-Minor Sonata. The piano sounds darker or richer than a Steinway; the extra notes at the bottom of the keyboard resonate sympathetically even when not struck, adding additional body to the tone.

Meanwhile, Roderick knocks on Mr. Strnk's office door; there is no answer. Inquiring of the secretary, he learns that Mr. Strnk is again out today. He wonders if Mr. Strnk exists.

At the shooting range, Megan whips off a couple of clips. Pausing at the end of the round, she examines the target. Ten shots, ten in the bull's eye. She's quite pleased with herself.

Around eleven-thirty in the morning, Roderick meets Molly under the Thinking Tree. It's customary to refrain from talking near the Thinking Tree, so others may think. Roderick sits on the ground under the tree, his back to the trunk, and puts his hands on the ground just so. Molly sprawls.

They think for awhile.

The Kissing Tree stands farther down the Quad. It's customary for couples to kiss when sitting beneath the tree. Roderick and Molly will visit the Kissing Tree, but not today.

There is another tree beyond the Kissing Tree, standing in the meadow that slopes to the river, where the tall grass offers some privacy. We shall not elaborate about what it is customary to do under this tree, which shall remain nameless for the present.

Oops. Molly is late for Human Figure class; she waves to Roderick and runs to the studio, where she quickly sheds her flannel shirt and jeans. As the students gather round, Mr. Ingres, the instructor, asks her to lie on a couch in the center of the room. She does so, like a not-zaftig Odalisque.

Under the Thinking Tree, Roderick's reverie is interrupted by the Prelude to Die Walkure played at ear-splitting volume. Mr. Pfaltzgraff is feeling frisky.