At our next class meeting Wyatt reverted to his previous behavior. There was no mention of his petition to free Charles Manson, no suggestion that I reminded Wyatt of a previous teacher he had really hated. He sat quietly and attentively in his usual seat near the door. He offered no comments, asked no questions. At the end of the period, he left without incident. This conduct continued for the remaining two weeks of the quarter. The last class meeting came and went. In it I directed students’ attention to the relevant section of the course syllabus and reminded them once more that their final grades were based upon their grades for their weekly assignments and revisions, on the grade for their final essay as a whole, and on their attendance, cooperation, and effort. I reminded them that the college recorded neither a plus nor a minus on their official grade report and transcript—only F, D, C, B, or A. I explained that within approximately two weeks the college would mail final course grades to students’ home addresses. Wyatt’s weekly grades were a string of Cs and C+s. His final paper was C. He had earned no grade higher than C+. I considered briefly his almost perfect attendance, entered a C for Wyatt on the official grade report, entered likewise the final grades for his classmates and for the other sixty-five students in my three other classes, and tidied up my cubicle. I would be vacationing during the first five-week summer session and would not return until the second five-week session began in mid-July. Roxanne stopped me in the hall on my way out the building.

“I talked to Wyatt yesterday,” she said.

“Good.”

“Yes, I told him what you said he said and that you had been concerned about it."

At this news, I must admit, I registered mild alarm. Telling Wyatt flat out that I had reported him to his special needs counselor seemed to me an unusual way of dealing with the incident I had reported in confidence. It was certainly not the response I had expected, but what did I know? I was no psychologist.

"Wyatt denied saying it,” Roxanne informed me.

Hmm.

I could tell that Roxanne felt stymied. She gave me a look. What more could she do? It was Wyatt’s word against mine. He had been well-behaved, had he not? At Techno I had grown accustomed to unusual students, eccentric behavior, odd remarks, the whole wide range of possible human conduct; and, after all, I prided myself on my liberality, tolerance, and patience. For all I knew, there was even a grain of truth to Wyatt’s distinctly unpopular belief regarding Charles Manson. I did not agree that Manson should be released, God forbid, but now that I thought about it there probably was some prejudice involved in the consideration of his parole. The media had sensationalized every detail of the slayings. I didn’t really know for sure what had actually happened. Had Manson personally slaughtered those innocent people? Or had his criminally gullible disciples carried out what they understood to be Manson’s wishes? I wished I knew the facts. I should research—no, that was absurd. As for Wyatt’s confused emotions towards his teachers past and present, he hadn’t specifically named me, although I had drawn that conclusion. He didn’t behave as if he hated me personally. His conduct had not been menacing. Oh, for God’s sake, this job was driving me insane! To hell with it, I thought—my school year is over. Forget it, I told myself. Let me out of here! I shook my head in befuddlement and surrender—oh well—and started to take my leave.

“One last thing,” Roxanne announced as I turned to walk away.

“Yes?” I detected a tiny hint of concern in her frown.

“When I confronted Wyatt about what you said he said"—Roxanne very carefully enunciated the words what you said he said—"you do understand that I did mention your name?”

“Yes," I said. "All right."

Confused myself about what might be the proper procedure for something like this, I waved goodbye to Roxanne as I continued on my way down the corridor and out the door of Techno and home to my long summer vacation away from work and the special needs of students like Wyatt. Praise god.

............................................
INSANITY to be continued