The Tales of Saint Anthony, The First Day

Jean Francois, Old Man on Campus

Jean Francois sat on his stoop watching the rain fall.

It had been a quiet day at Augsburg even with students beginning their return to campus. The heat of August and the impending storm kept the traffic muted.

After weeding his garden in the morning, Jean swept his sidewalk and scrubbed his front steps. Now he sat on his porch at his home off Riverside, smoking his pipe and sipping brandy.

He was enjoying a quiet afternoon, just as he thought he would when he was a younger-man working for the Park Board.

He had been hoping to spend the day watching blonde-haired Lutheran coming back to school, Jean never grew tired autumn's annual peregrination, of commencement with all the students dressed in their best, and the girls showing a little more leg every year...it was why he built his hose here across the street from the theatre arts building and the athletic field.

Jean stared at a patch of peeling paint on his window trim, he had not planned on touching the east side of the house until next spring. He felt a sense of dismay upon seeing it at this time of year.

Perhaps it was due to the excessive heat and rain we had endured over the summer, Jean thought, though in his heart he blamed himself for a job poorly done.

While sitting on his porch he watched a nice sedan pull up to a sudden stop across the street. He recognized Dr. Johnson driving it, a distinguished member of the faculty who had joined the college in the previous year.

Jean had been instructed to monitor his comings and goings for Ermes Batelier, the Commissioner of Parks, a very powerful man in the city, and jean's former boss.

When Dr. Johnson had first come to campus Jean had received a call from the Commissioner who had asked him to keep tabs on the man and to make regular reports of his activities, including the company he kept. He told Jean that he would call for the reports as needed.

Jean was happy to do it, and happier to see an extra ten dollars a week appear in his pension check for his troubles.

It wasn't a bad life, he thought.

The tall and slender, bird-like Dr. Johnson got out of his car and rushed into the building where his offices were, just as the heavy rain began to fall.

Jean thought he looked disheveled, his clothes were already damp, if not with rain then he had soaked them with sweat.

Jean had never seen the professor in such a state, though he nearly always radiated a sense of nervousness, as if he was always expecting the worst and was never satisfied with anything.

Jean shook his head in judgement, an unpleasant fellow he thought.