Truman Cadaver

1. Auflage 2013
ISBN: 978-1-4835-0315-8
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 308 Seiten

Reihe: Cadaver

For daring to suggest that creationism might be a better answer to our origins than Darwinian evolution, Professor Noel Mason and his wife Janice Mason face life-threatening terror at the hands of an emotionally disturbed student.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Truman, Jon

Leseproben

CHAPTER 3 Brooks' heart sank as she saw Noel droop his head and slowly shuffle back toward the front door, the opened letter hanging loosely by his side. "Better sit down, Brooks," he said as he entered the front door. "Why? What's wrong, Noel? Is it bad?" "Please," Noel pleaded. "This is hard for me." Not wanting to add to his obvious pain, Brooks quickly sat on the edge of the dinette chair, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. "Whatever it is, we'll live through it," she said. "We've been through tough times before." Noel averted his eyes as if to conceal his hurt. He stepped up to the sink, gazed blankly out the kitchen window, but said nothing. It was as if he were trying to think how to break the news to her in the least painful way. How like Noel, she thought as she waited for him to say something. Anything. Her heart sank even further as she watched him whisk a handkerchief from his hip pocket and raise it to his eyes. "Noel…please. Let me help." Unable to stand it any longer, Brooks rose and slipped behind Noel. She put her arms around his waist and hugged him gently. As she stood there, he slowly twisted around. He cupped her shoulders with his hands and looked into her eyes. "Brooks, I don't know of any other way to tell you this, but…" That's when she saw it. The corners of his mouth began puckering upward and his eyes sparkled. And, unable to restrain himself any longer, he grinned broadly, and shouted, "WE'VE GOT IT!" Caught off guard, Brooks just stood there. Stunned. When what he had said finally soaked in, she didn't know whether to whoop for joy or wallop him for teasing her. "NOEL," she shouted, as she opted for the second choice and punched him in the stomach. Noel buckled over in mock pain, and then began backing away from her. One arm shielded his abdomen while the other, extended like the stiff-arm of a tail back, warded off her advances. "Brooks! Get a hold of yourself. You're going to hurt somebody. ME!" Brooks couldn't help it. She laughed. Noel did the same and soon, they embraced, and after giving her a short but welcome kiss, he said, "Come on. Sit down, Hon. Okay?" "We've been through that routine before." Once again, Noel laughed. "Listen," he said, waving the letter in front of her as if it were a white flag. "I'm serious. Sit down and listen to this." Brooks cast a suspicious glance at Noel, and sitting, she regarded him curiously as he joined her, unfolded the letter, and began to read… Dear Dr. Mason, On behalf of the University of Tennessee, it's my privilege to offer you the position of Visiting Professor for the summer quarter commencing on Thursday, June 18th— Brooks smiled softly and eased back into the chair. She let out an inaudible sigh of relief and bowed her head in prayer. She had much reason to be thankful. Noel had been through so much, and this letter…? Well, it was, in a sense, a vindication. The University of Sydney had, after all, treated him shamefully. It had all begun about a year ago when Doctor Tilton, the Dean of the College of Archeology, called Noel into his office. *  *  * "Have a seat Dr. Mason," Tilton said, his vocal chords tensed for confrontation. He skipped the amenities and added, "I understand you are a Christian. Is that right, Dr. Mason?" "Yes…I am," Noel said, making no attempt to disguise his concern over the nature and tone of Doctor Tilton's inquiry. "Why do you ask?" "Well, it's come to my attention that you've been teaching religion in your classes, and…" "I've been what?" Noel interrupted. "Oh come now, Dr. Mason. Let's not be melodramatic. Everyone on the faculty knows you don't believe in evolution. But, as far as I'm concerned, you can believe whatever you like. You cannot, on the other hand, teach whatever you like." Noel had never been too fond of Doctor Tilton. In his estimation, he was a little too pompous and officious for one housed in a five-foot-five inch, featherweight frame. That Noel had even harbored such feelings for the man had, on more than one occasion, spurred him to his knees in search of a more forgiving attitude; and, it seemed to have worked. That is, until today. "Dr. Tilton, I don't know where you get your information but I assure you, I haven't been teaching religion. I admit, I have on occasion shared a few arguments from the creation-science point of view, but…" "Ah-HAH," Tilton blurted out, believing he had just proven his point. "That's what I mean." "Dr. Tilton, creationism is hardly religion. When I shared with my students that—contrary to the theory of evolution—coal has been formed even after the appearance of man, I was not teaching religion." "Oh. Is that so?" Tilton snapped back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You do know that a fossilized human skull composed of brown coal has been confirmed, don't you? By Professor Otto Stutzer? A leading authority on coal geology?" Doctor Tilton hesitated. "Of…course I do, but that doesn't prove anything." "Maybe not, but it sure suggests something, doesn't it?" "Dr. Mason, I don't plan to sit here and listen to your religious prattle disguised as science." Noel knew if he stayed in Doctor Tilton's office any longer, he might do something he'd be sorry for, so he quickly rose to leave, so quickly in fact, Tilton flinched. Noel, however, didn't even notice. He marched briskly toward the door, his back to Tilton. Once there he stopped, wheeled about, and measuring his words carefully said, "Dr. Tilton, shouldn't we scientists be open-minded? Shouldn't we, of all people, be allowed the freedom to search for the truth, to challenge a theory which is, by its very nature, not provable?" Doctor Tilton's countenance slowly underwent a metamorphosis. Deep creases etched themselves between his brows. His lips compressed into a thin, taut line and he glared at Noel. "…Believe me a fool if you like," Noel continued, "but grant me the courtesy of being a scientist, one just as objective as you, or any other evolutionist…" Maybe Noel should have stopped there, but he didn't. "…Why is it you, and other evolutionists like you, ignore all the evidence contrary to your pet theory, or in your inability to refute it, brand it religion?" Doctor Tilton sprang to his feet and pointed a tremulous finger at Noel. "Dr. Mason, you're fired!" Noel just stood there for a moment, staring at Doctor Tilton. He started to speak, and would have, had he not been suddenly struck with the thought that maybe—just maybe—his dismissal had been planned from the very start, and not by Tilton either. Tilton might be nothing more than a pawn in the whole affair; and the more Noel thought about it, the more he was convinced that God was involved. He had to be, for Noel no more believed in accidents than he did luck. All things are caused, or at the very least, allowed by God. But then, Noel also knew that God doesn't always approve of what He allows. Even so, Noel drew comfort from his conviction that God was in some way involved in what had happened, and slowly, calmly, he turned toward the door, opened it and quietly left without so much as a backward glance in Tilton's direction. A week later, Noel was an unemployed professor of archeology. Worse, he was an unemployable professor of archeology. His chances of teaching again were, at best, slim. Certainly there would be no raving letters of recommendation from his alma mater, not if Doctor Tilton had anything to say about it, and he did. In the months that followed, Noel collected his thoughts and put them into a book. Much to his surprise, it turned out to be more than a therapeutic exercise. Entitled Scopes Revisited, it was a smashing success. It went into many reprints, and soared to number eleven on the Publisher's Weekly list of best selling nonfiction. Moreover, it didn't coast off the chart until twenty-four weeks later. Offers to speak poured in. To top it off, there was a hint of an offer from the University of Tennessee in Knoxville for Noel to join the staff as a visiting professor for the ensuing summer. If approved, it included an offer to debate one of America's leading evolutionists, UTK's Dean of Biological Sciences, Doctor T.M. Sheldon. To sweeten the pot, which to Noel, was already so saccharin it could choke a fly, the debate was to be televised on cable TV. There was only one problem. The board had some reservations about adding someone as controversial as Noel to their staff, even if only for the summer, and Noel understandably feared the worst. But the letter he had just received affirmed that his fears had been unfounded. …In addition to the aforementioned remuneration, both housing and transportation will be provided. In closing, I look forward to an educationally profitable summer, and thank you in advance for your contribution to that high goal. Noel spun the letter around so Brooks could see it. It was signed—Doctor Winston Powers, Chancellor, University of Tennessee, Knoxville. As Brooks gazed upon...