The Grounding of Group 6 by Julian F. Thompson

Author:Julian F. Thompson [Thompson, Julian F.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Published: 2012-01-03T04:30:00+00:00

Homer Cone had not come close to laughing for a good two weeks. Except in class, of course, where certain times you had to laugh to keep from crying. He really doubted if Euclid himself could simplify geometry to the point that some of Doctor’s baby boneheads could contend with it on equal terms. But that was par for the course. Homer Cone was never one to overrate the clients of the Coldbrook Country School. Colleagues sometimes said that they were “teaching” English 4, or first-year Spanish, but Homer Cone preferred to say he was “conducting class,” in business math or algebra—whatever.

“I cannot call this ‘teaching,’ ” he would say, munching on a jelly donut in the teachers’ smoking lounge. “When someone ‘teaches,’ other people ‘learn,’ and that does not seem possible for this year’s crop of moneyed melon-minds.”

Older faculty would shake their heads and chuckle at these misanthropic musings. “There goes good old Homer,” they would say. Younger teachers, fresh from Vassar and Purdue, would ask each other why a decent school would keep a moldy, big-domed, prehistoric fart like that around. “Back at Choate, when I was there,” they’d whisper, sneaking sideways looks at Homer Cone, “they had this asshole by the name of Ackroyd. …”

Yet it wasn’t just his classes that had Homer Cone annoyed; there also was the matter of Group 6. He’d said that he would “comb the woods” until he found them; he’d said they “had a date” with Homer Cone. But at the rate that he was combing, the date was very apt to start off with a “2.” That’s talking year, not month or day.

And that was only the beginning of his problems.

Most of all, there were these outside complications. Doctor had mentioned that he planned to get in touch with his so-called leading authority in that particular field, the man who’d recommended Rittenhouse as someone who might…lead Group 6.

Well, Doctor had done that (he’d called up Homer Cone to tell him so), and (he further told H. Cone) he’d been pretty much unprepared for the “passion and, er, well vulgarity” of that important gentleman’s reaction.

The leading authority had advised Doctor (so Doctor said to Homer C.) that he had plans to “contact up” a certain relative of his, whom he would urge to travel, with dispatch, to Coldbrook (“… get his ass down there before I start to cut it into steaks and chops …”) and sever all connections with young Rittenhouse as soon as he could find him (“… shoot that college prick right up his nose …”). The relative would be in touch with Doctor in an hour’s time, to make specific plans for his arrival.

In fact, it was half an hour later (Doctor made that clear to Homer Cone) when he got the call that he expected. The leading authority’s relative’s name turned out to be Emfatico. “Like ‘emphatic,’ with an o,” said Doctor, in his gentle voice. “Arnold B. Emfatico. He’ll be here in the morning…‘oh, what a beautiful day,’ ” sang Doctor.

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