Robin

Marc’s commute across Chicagoland with usually spent chatting with Lin, discussing his latest failed foray in dating or the frustration of being a student affairs professional at the University. Although Marc was usually able to wear all the hats his job required, this week had taken a larger toll. The idiocy of undergraduates was astounding. It seemed the high IQ was directly proportional low common sense and self esteem, as if the rules of basic human interaction didn’t apply to smart kids.

Robin Grayson, a third year, pre-law student, had disappeared from campus on Monday afternoon. It wasn’t unusual for students to take off for a few days; however, Robin didn’t show up for a date with his girlfriend, missed several days of classes, and left a cryptic note with his roommate. The National Merit Scholar has prone to making bad decisions, but he had perfect attendance and never missed an opportunity to argue with his Political Science professor.

After an alcohol poisoning, Robin was required to meet with Marc weekly to discuss the choices he was making. Like a scene pulled from Good Will Hunting, Robin was silent for the first session. The second session was a diatribe about Nietzsche and nihilists. It was in the third visit that Marc was able to kick the door open. He’d never forget the physical and emotional regression he witnessed that day, although he’d seen it happen once before.

Marc stroked the cell phone in his hand. He wanted to call her, ask her advice about the boy, yet his intuition told him not to dial the phone. The vision that he couldn’t shake was that Robin and Lin were two magnets drawn to each other and if he spoke to Lin the poles would shift and Robin would be repelled and never found.

Photo: Ouylle