Chapter 8: The Forks prepare for a long swing through the western states. Professor T. ponders a vivid dream and Abigail Weiser takes advantage of his unsuspecting nature. 

Mork T.’s eyes popped open around midnight. He hadn’t felt this giddy since The Forks’ early days. That is, before the charms of his grunge-metal song & dance routine began to wear thin. After an obligatory visit to the toilet, he would try to get right back to sleep as tomorrow would be a long day of travel along familiar highways. Sometimes however, the call of nature sings subtilly, not loud enough to force an immediate nocturnal trip to the commode, but just enough to invoke that foggy state of consciousness where textures, moving objects, interactions, and colors are vivid as ever, with the waking mind also present enough to recognize the dream state and, depending on the desirability of the images, works to keep the dream state going. In this straddled state, Mork T. witnessed a stunning tapestry of swirling figures, all moving in color-streaked spirals around his awareness. A hurricane of sensation where the locus of observation was like an aircraft in the eye of a category 5 storm. He saw artifacts of human progress and scientific inquiry. He saw the icons of religious tradition, spires of great cathedrals, microscopes, holy books, high-tech weapons, bottles of communion wine, communication satellites, pipe organs, advanced medical imaging machines, and gilded pulpits swirling around him in an ever expanding spiral. And just as Professor T.’s awareness worked for a finer focus at these swirling shapes, the dream state evaporated like so much morning fog. As he reached for the flush handle, he tried to focus his bearing toward slipping back into a cozy position in bed in order to get right back to sleep. Before pulling the covers and placing a pillow between his knees, he made a mental note to take up the dream impressions for later ponderings.  

And now, in the department office, taking care of final details, Abigail Wiser, long-time office administrative manager, approached Professor T. with Buck Wellstone’s application paperwork. Just a couple more signatures, and the process would be complete. She approached him with a Mona Lisa smile. Had Mork T. been a bit more aware of his surroundings he would have noticed Abigail was dressed somewhat more provocatively than is her normal workday routine. She knew the rest of The Forks and Buck Wellstone were to meet in the office at noon. They would grab a lunch in the university cafeteria one last time before boarding the Chool Bus and striking west for Salt Lake City by way of Glenwood Springs, Colorado. Abigail was hovering a bit closer to Professor T. than he was comfortable with, but he thought nothing of this since he believed their relationship had settled into a strictly professional mode years ago. Little did he know, but Ms Wiser was setting him up to be caught by his traveling companions in the act of misconduct clearly prohibited by the policies of Title IX.

As Billie, Jack, and Buck entered the closed door of Professor T.’s office, what they witnessed would be very hard to interpret as purely innocent.

She tripped, fell against him, he caught her, hands around her waist and just as the Forks were entering the room, Abigaile struggled against Professor T.’s hold as if to escape an unwanted groping. As the Forks stood there, jaws agape, Professor T. tried to maintain a dignified countenance, but Abigaile played her part with great panache. “This isn’t what it looks like,” said Professor T. looking wide-eyed at his companions.

“Have a great trip,” said Abigaile with a cold sneer as she elbowed her way out of the office.

After an awkward, silent beat, “well… who’s hungry,” Jack enthusiastically inquired, eager to get past the chilly silence? 

“Right… shall we,” Professor T. gestured toward the open door, leading the gang toward the cafeteria?

It was a perfect day for a road trip, and as Billie steered the Chool Bus into Silverthorn Colorado. Evening was approaching, it was time to pull over for some rest before pushing on to Salt Lake City where their next focus group interviews would be conducted on the campus of the University of Utah. 

In a quiet reverie, with the hypnotizing sound of rubber to the road, Professor T. recalled images experienced in the early morning hours of this day. It seemed as if his unconscious was sending him messages related to the research The Forks were conducting. For most of his adult life, Professor T. would be dismayed at the behavior of his fellow Kanoradians. Staunchly conservative in rural areas, and moderately progressive in the population centers. Even so, there was much in the way of rancorous discontent between neighbors, even family. Some folks driven to the point of insisting the only solution to this stubborn culture clash would be a rematch of the Civil War. And with the rise of Social Media’s dominance of the Internet, these divides grew worse with each passing year. Professor T. dubbed this the “fibrillating heart of our divided nation” and he hoped this research project would help people see a way out of this corrosive state of affairs. Professor T. wished citizens would find a way to promote a willing detente between neighbors who have different ways of seeing the world. And so, the image of a swirling vortex of science and religion icons spinning around as if both attracted and repelled simultaneously held some hinting charm in his mind.

Then the memory of Abigail Weiser, someone with whom he had years of shared professional experience, inexplicably forcing a close unwelcome physical encounter within eyeshot of witnesses had him puzzled. He knew she had crushed on him many years ago, but believed she had grown to accept the fact that he was not open to that kind of relationship, especially with co-workers. The encounter caused no great consternation and so his thoughts drifted back to the research project.

The sound of Sam Jackson berating Billie for missing a turn in Silverthorn broke Professor T.’s reverie. Jack and Buck were finishing a chess match when Billie pulled the Chool Bus into the RV park where the gang would rest for the night.

“Check,” cried Jack with an almost surprised tone. Buck took a moment to confirm, but sure enough, “I think it’s mate,” he mumbled. “Well played,” Buck congratulated his new colleague for an interesting match.

Next Week:
Professor T. ponders mental residue of the previous evening’s dream and the newly expanded Forks make sightseeing plans before resuming research interviews.

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