"Yes, it's very worrisome." Fran leaned back against the edge of her desk and Mattie saw that her friend was as torn as she. "Jerry told me that President Buckley refused to approve the protest, but I fear that it will be held in spite of that."
"I'm afraid that even if our students are planning something peaceful, and I'm sure that's their intent, that outside agitators will come in and start something." Mattie sat down in one of the student's desks and leaned her cane against the side. "And, how on earth can that be prevented?"
"You're right, Mattie." Fran tapped her finger against her chin, and gazed out the large windows to the fall scene beyond. "Our college doesn't have the resources to block off the entire college, or police it fully, for that matter." She turned to look at her seriously. "Jerry and I have to drive down to his mother's house after classes today for her birthday dinner, so we won't be home until late tonight."
"I don't understand why President Buckley is being silent about this and not talking with the student body."
"Jerry thinks P.B. has his head in the sand." Fran whispered as she leaned forward. "And that he's in some sort of denial that anything could happen here."
They talked for a few minutes more, and the appearance at the door of one of Fran's students from her next class prompted Mattie to rise and start toward the door.
"Let me know if you hear anything." Mattie called back as she left.
"Will do."
Mattie hugged her brown tweed jacket closer to her chest and headed back in the cool afternoon air toward her classroom in the Stanley Arts Building, one of the older gray stone buildings across the quad from the newer, sleeker Language Arts building. Her boots and cane scattered the thick layer of multi-hued leaves that covered the sidewalk as students passed her on either side, and she looked around her at the serene college, its gray stone buildings with the red roofs seeming so stately and reassuring to her. She looked across the quad and saw several students deep in conversation as they sat perched on top of the massive boulder, nicknamed the 'kissing rock,' under the large maple tree. Her college was safe at the moment from the country's turmoil and she wanted it to stay that way. She felt a sense of dread rise up in her heart as she contemplated the night's planned event. Why had she not told Fran that she was going to attend the protest? Even though she'd told Matthew that she would be there only if the group had the consent of the administration, she knew there was no way she could stay home. She had to make sure they were safe. President Buckley had not issued any directives or warnings to the students or the faculty, other than notifying the department chairmen, and that puzzled her. Wouldn't you think that he would say something? For a college that was so strict on dress codes, and nightly curfews, how would the administration handle a loud, anti-war demonstration, for goodness sake. And that's what worried her the most...the silence from the school. That didn't bode well, in her opinion. It would be cold tonight, she should wear her long coat, she decided as she entered the building and walked up the stairs to her classroom on the second floor. She shrugged off her jacket and hung it on the wall hook, and walked over to her desk, leaning her cane against the wall as she organized the slides for her next class.