“Class dismissed,” Professor Gault said. “Chapters five through nine next time.”
As they filed out, the thoughts came. “Another unproductive session. They’re graduate students. Years of education. And for what? They should be able to understand the dynamics of political polarization by now. Instead, they get caught in the web. An insect caught in the web is not the spider. By now they should be the spider.” He smiled at the idiocy of the thought. “They fall into the trap so easily and get stuck. One side is wrong—misguided—ignorant. And they identify with the side they think holds the high moral ground. Foolishness. Where are the minds that can bridge the chasm?”
Those thoughts followed him out into the quadrangle. It was a pleasant spring afternoon. Mathew decided to forget about the class and the conundrum. He found a vacant bench under a broadly shading tree, sipped his coffee, and vowed to contemplate nature until the clouds cleared.
She entered the quadrangle from the opposite side. He noticed her immediately. Looked to be midsixties. Around five ten, black hair, tanned olive complexion, she walked a measured pace as if in deep contemplation. As that was also his manner, he felt an immediate kinship. “Maybe a visiting professor,” he thought. “No, the clothes were wrong. Definitely not an American. There was a stylishness about her that American academic women mostly avoided. Faculty frumpy or freaky eccentric is what they opted for these days. He settled on the wife of a visiting donor and turned back to avoiding his conundrum. His miserably unsuccessful efforts to leave it behind were turning into a rout. It leered back at him from an impenetrable mist.
“You seem to be a man with a problem,” she said. He hadn’t noticed her approaching nor when she sat down at the opposite end of the bench. On closer inspection, her face was perfectly symmetrical. Her eyes were dark, almost black, matching the color of her hair. There was a presence about her that he found mildly disconcerting.
“I’m getting absent-minded,” he said. “Or maybe it’s the early stages of senility. I’m sorry. I didn’t notice you sitting down. It’s such a beautiful day. I’ve decided to play hooky from my…” He paused, not sure how to describe it. “I’ve not seen you around before. Are you new to the university?”
“You might say that,” she said with a gentle smile. “My name is Anna. And it is a lovely day for
