“Isaac, you haven’t said anything today… Tell us YOUR thoughts on how Arsenic and Old Lace (1944) approaches the apparent ‘death of the theater’ that critics were alleging during this time period,” Dr. Pharr politely demanded.
There was a hint of frustration in his voice because discussion was stunted, which normally makes Dr. Pharr impatient. His Modernist Film Appreciation class is mostly discussion based, but everyone in this 4:30 p.m. class is usually ready to have dinner and shut off for the day. I think that most of us enrolled in this sophomore-level elective thinking that it would be a piece of cake because it’s about movies, but weren’t expecting the movies to be so old and boring. I was lost in daydreaming when Dr. Pharr called on me, so I quickly stumbled with my words as those classmates who were still conscious stared at me with looks of celebration and relief that they weren’t called on.
“I-I mean, didn’t the main guy say something about the death of the theater before that drunk and Frankenstien tied up and gagged him?” is all I was able to cobble together, basically recalling what I generally remembered about the movie. Dr. Pharr's defined, yet round cheekbones flexed as he lightly chuckled at me referring to the disfigured character as Frankenstein, then his deep brown eyes dug into me as he pressed for more.
“Yeah… So, how does this relate to what was happening to theater while film was on the rise?” he asked as he readjusted the cuff of his rolled up, royal blue and white plaid dress shirt sleeve that rested around his bicep.
“W-well… It’s… You know…” I mumbled trying to quickly think of something to say, but my mind was emptier than it was before I was called on.
“Dr. Pharr, maybe re-enacting the scene with you playing the guy who gets tied up would jog our memories” interrupted Caleb, the self-appointed class clown. His entourage, Noah and Jaxon, laughed and exchanged approving murmurs with each other. Annette, Caleb’s current catch, hyperbolically indicated “no Caleb just didn’t” with her nonverbals. Dr. Pharr chuckled again, but his pale olive colored face went a little pink with embarrassment as he turned to Caleb. His lips perched in a tight smile in the middle of his thick, but neat brown beard.
“Caleb… Thanks for derailing the discussion as usual,” Dr. Pharr composed himself then said, “I know how eager most of you must be to shut me up about these old, boring movies, but that’s what you signed up for when you registered for this class… but hey, if you guys could so much as pay attention to one movie and have a decent, critical discussion about it, I’d be willing to let all of you teach for a class meeting while I sit in the back with a sock in my mouth. So, let’s try to learn something for the time being.”
Class continued as usual with everyone only being half-engaged; Dr. Pharr being annoyed, but snarky about all the apathy in the room; and Caleb’s clown clique being obnoxious. Dr. Pharr seemed to be in his early thirties, but his dark undercut hair was highlighted with grey streaks and he had tired-looking bags under his eyes. Without being obese, Dr. Pharr is heavy set, but the sharpness of his nose coupled with a wide jaw compliment his physique. He's about 6'1 with broad shoulders that make it easy for him to diffuse his belly with tailored sweaters or blazers that go over plaid button-collared shirts tucked into skinny slacks or jeans. Professor Pharr usually tops off his outfits with ankle boots that match his thick belts.
When class was dismissed and I got to the line for the school’s coffee shop, Caleb and his friends were already standing aside waiting for their orders. They practically run out of Dr. Pharr’s class once he starts dismissing us seemingly out of fear that learning might catch them if they don’t move fast enough. When I got to the front of the line and made my order, Caleb cut off Noah from talking and quickly approached me.
“Hey, don’t worry, I got it.” Caleb said to me as he pulled out crumpled up bills that were just stuffed into the pocket of his Polo shorts. I looked at him not knowing how to respond. The barista looks like she’s had enough of his loud crew’s mere presence, but took his money.
“Thanks?” I said and kind of asked because I didn’t know why Caleb was approaching me out of nowhere. I’ve had a few classes with him before, but I tend to be the quiet loner type that might occasionally befriend a kind stoner I had a class with. Caleb was a bit too jockey and show-boaty for me.
Caleb stood about half-a-foot taller than almost everyone I’ve seen him next to. He is stocky, yet athletic in build, and always dressed somewhat preppy, but in a sloppy kind of way as if he were obligated by his peers and rich family to only wear Ralph Lauren and Lacost. I think what most people seemed to like about him is how nothing seems to bother or worry him in a climate where most people are anxious about keeping scholarships and maintaining their GPAs. So, most are insulted by his ultra lax demeanor while few are inspired by it.
“Isiah, is it?” Caleb asked as he walked me to the counter to wait for my iced coffee.
“It’s actually Isaac,” I said, trying to brush him off while still being polite since he bought my drink.
“Oh, I’m sorry, man. I’m Caleb.” He reached out to shake my hand. I found that kind of formality from him off-putting, especially since we’ve seen each other around for a few semesters. However, I reluctantly reached my hand out to shake his. He had a firm, confident grip, which was somehow comforting and intimidating at the same time. The two of us made small talk until I got my iced coffee, then Caleb walked me over to the table his friends wound up sitting at.
After we all introduced ourselves, Dr. Pharr’s class came up. Annette complained about her grade, Jaxon and Noah groaned about how boring it is, and Caleb basically said that he just doesn’t like Dr. Pharr. When he noticed the puzzled look on my face, he explained that he didn’t like how Pharr can be a bit of a smart ass at times. Even though Caleb and Pharr butted heads every time we met for class, I still found it odd that Caleb had such an issue with Dr. Pharr. Sure, his retorts towards Caleb might be a little sassier than other professors, but I couldn’t understand having such strong opinions regarding Dr. Pharr or any other professors for that matter, especially if you knowingly antagonize them. However, I just went with it. Opinions are like assholes, everybody has one, right?
It didn’t take long for a different subject to come up and the group and I actually hit it off. We walked around campus and shot the shit about everything from movies to YouTube channels we follow. When it got kind of late, we all exchanged numbers and Instagram accounts to keep in touch between classes, then went our own ways. Seeing the things that used to annoy me about Caleb turn into things that I either overlooked or started liking about him was really strange.
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I found myself weirdly wanting Caleb’s approval. For example, if I said something that made him genuinely laugh, I would feel such a sense of accomplishment to the point that I’d make note of the things he finds funny, so I can make him laugh again some other time. I’m usually a fairly plain guy in terms of how I dress by wearing mostly jeans, black t-shirts, and non-descript hoodies. But the added confidence I’ve gained from Caleb’s acceptance led me to go to school in some beige vintage bomber jacket that I bought on impulse some time back, but figured that I couldn’t “pull it off” one day and Caleb complimented it. His compliment encouraged me to put more effort into my appearance by actually styling my hair and wearing more collared shirts. However, as with any honeymoon phase with a person, there were a few red flags with Caleb that I ignored.
Of course, I didn’t immediately realize just how much Caleb was changing the person I saw in the mirror because it’s not like he would directly tell me what to wear. He would just subtly indicate his approval of me in his cool guy way when I was actively trying to look cool for him. However, when I didn’t feel like putting as much effort into my appearance, Caleb would be quietly hostile towards me by pretending that he still hasn’t learned my name or talking about me to others in the group as if I weren’t there. The red flags that really stood out to me were when we would gather at my student housing apartment and drink.
As I got closer to everyone, I opened up my apartment to the group since I was the only one without roommates. The mood would always start out fun and light-hearted, then once Caleb got drunk enough, he would dominate the conversation and go off on rants about pretty much any person in his life who has authority over him. If nobody prompted him, he’d complain about his dad and how he’s threatening to cut him off if he didn’t try making a little money for himself. If somebody complained about a professor or boss for any reason, he would say things along the lines of hating being told what to do and despising the thought of his fate being in other people’s hands.
Something that was especially odd was when Dr. Pharr would come up in these rants even if nobody else mentioned him. He would say things about how Dr. Pharr should have more respect for him and how much he’d like to embarass him to “kick him off from his high horse.” These were usually the points in conversation where everyone would fall quiet because nobody shared or understood those feelings regardless of how much they disliked Dr. Pharr, but everyone knew that Caleb would swing the conversation back to Dr. Pharr or his dad if anybody tried changing the subject. This was an unusual thing that kept happening more often, yet nobody ever addressed it.
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Then one day in class, Caleb was being especially defiant. During discussion, when Caleb wasn’t loudly derailing the conversation, he’d quietly make cracks about Dr. Pharr to the rest of us, where we’d be obligated to quietly chuckle, then compose ourselves before anyone else noticed. He said things along the lines of how Dr. Pharr apparently said or did something revealing that he might be gay, that he thinks he can see the outline of Dr. Pharr’s crotch or wedgie because of how tight his pants are, or ask if he should make particularly inappropriate comments to him that usually have to do with his weight to see how he’ll react.
However, since this day didn’t involve a lecture because we were supposed to work on a paper that was due for the next class meeting, Caleb didn’t feel the need to hold back. I was the only one in the group who brought anything to work on. Everyone else brought their laptops and things, but didn’t use them for anything constructive. When Dr. Pharr came to check on us, I asked him something about formatting. Dr. Pharr leaned over my desk to look at my screen, then Caleb chimed in.
“Hey Pharr, have you thought about getting pants that fit you?” Caleb asked with a drunk-like boldness. Annette, Jaxon, and Noah blushed and looked away while Caleb sat calmly, looking directly at our professor. Dr. Pharr furrowed his eyebrows at first because he was so focused on my work that he wasn’t sure if he heard Caleb correctly.
“What was that?” asked Dr. Pharr, hesitation and a hint of anger were in his voice. There was an eerie silence in the room. Even students in other groups quieted to listen.
“Why do your pants have to be so tight? Don’t you people have dress codes to follow?” Caleb asked, challenging Dr. Pharr. Our professor’s expression turned cold, but flushed with either embarrassment or rage. The silence in the room got much heavier. Caleb seemed to be eating everything up while still looking calm, but stern.
“Y’know, Caleb? If you’d like to know where I shop, we can go to the mall someday, but my pants should be the least of your worries right now” Dr. Pharr shakily remarked, trying to keep his composure. After a few more painfully silent seconds, other students went back to their dull murmuring and Dr. Pharr confirmed if I was all set on my formatting. Caleb just shrugged and pretended to get back to work.
I was able to tell that Dr. Pharr wanted to explode, but was holding it in. He stood up straight and nervously adjusted the hem of his ash grey, v-neck sweater before walking back to his desk. Our group remained silent until we were dismissed.
Caleb was taking this as a victory. At our usual spot in the coffee shop, Caleb relished about Dr. Pharr’s facial expression and how nervous and subdued the professor was for the remainder of class. He then said things about how he pays his salary, so he deserves to be put into his place now and then. Jaxon and Noah went with it, but the overall mood of the rest of us was still kind of tense. Annette wasn’t saying anything. Then all of our phones buzzed.
Dr. Pharr sent an email to the class saying that because of today’s “incident,” he is no longer going to give us class time to work on major assignments anymore because “if we aren’t going to be responsible with our time as adults, we don’t deserve his trust for what we do during class time.” He also mentioned that we will begin having daily quizzes that’ll determine our participation grades and even our attendance grades if we make so many zeros and that we all have “somebody to thank for this.” The tension at our table grew. Caleb’s celebratory mood turned to a quiet rage. His tan face flushed into a warm red. I didn’t want to witness the aftermath of this, so I made up an excuse to go home early and left the group at the coffee shop.
I immediately felt relief the further I got from Caleb, but I also felt worn out from all the tension of the day. I even considered ignoring whatever texts or phone calls I might get from Caleb that night and possibly even sitting at my old desk for the next class meeting.
I got home and winded down before deciding to work on my paper out of guilt, which surprisingly overwhelmed the anxiety about the upcoming quizzes. After a few hours of work, I checked my phone to see that I had a few Instagram messages from Jaxon, which was weird because it was usually Caleb who reached out to me. I even forgot that Jaxon and I followed each other because he hardly ever posts or directly interacts with me.
He asked how I was doing and made some small talk before addressing what happened today. I asked what happened with Caleb and he said that he doesn’t know because he and Annette went their own way shortly after I left, but he’s sure everything’s fine. Our conversation started reaching an expected lull and I started getting ready to go to bed a bit early, then Jaxon sent another message.
JAXON: Hey, so would you want to meet up with me at Pharr’s office tomorrow?
ISAAC: What?! Why?
JAXON: Don’t you feel bad about what happened today? I mean… I know WE didn’t do anything, but all this was from our group, so I just wanted to apologize. You seemed pretty shook when you left us today.
ISAAC: What does Caleb think about that?
JAXON: Dude, seriously? Caleb would never be up to do something like that. He’s pissed… I didn’t tell him or anyone. I don’t know about Annette, but Noah is too shy to go, but I’m sure he’s got our back for whatever we do.
ISAAC: So, it would just be you and me?
JAXON: Yeah
ISAAC: Okay. Maybe that’ll ease the next class meeting.
JAXON: Oh, definitely. I’ll be there at 6 and wait for you outside.
The thought of going to that man’s office and having to look him in the eye so soon after "the incident" made me tense all over again, but I feel like this could make things right at least on mine and Jaxon’s part. That’s what I kept telling myself in order to sleep that night.
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As much as I wanted to bail on Jaxon, I headed to Dr. Pharr’s office a little after 6 p.m. Jaxon was sitting on a bench, across the hall from Dr. Pharr’s door.
“Is he in there?” I asked, half hoping that he cancelled his office hours.
“Yeah. I haven’t seen him, but I think so” Jaxon replied calmly. He stood up and walked up to me. We looked at each other, sighed, then he knocked on the wooden, windowless door with a black placard that said “Lyle Pharr Ph.D.”
“Come in” Dr. Pharr called out from the other side of the door, his deep voice sounding faint behind the heavy wood. His face politely lit up when he saw Jaxon and I.
“Gentlemen, what can I help you with?” Dr. Pharr asked cordially. He was wearing a beige shirt and navy blue tie with little purple, grey, and baby blue dots. His stone-grey cardigan was buttoned all the way up and navy blue blazer was unbuttoned. The glare of big, thick-rimmed glasses we haven’t seen him wear before shined at Jaxon and I. We briefly exchanged puzzled glances from his friendliness. I guess we expected him to still be upset from yesterday. We walked in and closed his door, then awkwardly shuffled to the open seats in front of his desk in his small office.
“Well… Isaac and I wanted to talk about yesterday…” Jaxon said hesitantly as I studied the diplomas and posters of old movies on Dr. Pharr’s wall. Our professor’s face remained pleasant, but his eyes narrowed a bit behind the thick lenses. Dr. Pharr quietly let out a painful sigh.
“Look, guys…” Dr. Pharr started, but Jaxon cut him off.
“We don’t know what got into Caleb. How he acted doesn’t represent the rest of us…” Jaxon said quickly as if he had been rehearsing this line.
“Y-Yeah. We’re sorry…” I stuttered to help Jaxon.
“Noah would be here too, but he has practice” Jaxon explained, still sounding nervous. Dr. Pharr’s face softened and he sat back in his chair. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted again. This time by a knock on his door. Dr. Pharr stopped short, then responded.
“Yes?” Dr. Pharr greeted. Nothing was said from the other end, but the door opened. It was Caleb.
I looked nervously at Jaxon, but he looked down. Without acknowledging Jaxon and I, he asked Dr. Pharr how he can access his last graded paper from our class’ website. Dr. Pharr's face twisted quizzically. He must have been expecting Caleb to be apologizing like we are, but he's not only asking about something that we should know how to do by this point in the semester, but also something that feels very unimportant at this particular moment.
“Sh--Sure, Caleb… Can you wait a minute? I’m still helping other students, as you can see” Dr. Pharr said patiently, gesturing back towards the door.
“Look, this shouldn’t take long” Caleb demanded, still not registering that he’s interrupting something. Now, Jaxon looked at me and we both shuffled nervously in our seats.
“Alright, Caleb” Dr. Pharr said with resignation in his voice. “You can’t find it in the My Grades tab?” he asked.
“My what?! Where is that tab?” Caleb asked, sounding flabbergasted. I rolled my eyes at this bit and somehow felt Jaxon do the same even though we were no longer looking at each other. It’s classic Caleb to act completely inept about basic functions in order to annoy people into giving up and doing things for him. Dr. Pharr’s confused amusement began turning into annoyance, but before he could dignify any sort of answer, Caleb spoke again.
“Can you just show me?” Caleb asked, but it didn’t even sound like a question. In fact, he stormed into the office, brushing against Jaxon, and approached Dr. Pharr behind his desk to see his computer screen. Since this caught Dr. Pharr off guard, his eyes widened and his posture tensed up. He reached for his mouse before Caleb could get to it and clicked around, trying to keep his movements from looking frantic.
Caleb lumbered over Dr. Pharr from behind his office chair. I almost didn’t notice Noah creeping by Dr. Pharr’s doorway. He must have been around the whole time, but Caleb ate up the scenery as usual. I suddenly had a sinking feeling that something wasn’t right. Dr. Pharr seemed to reach the page Caleb was asking about.
“Everything I graded is here and available and nothing seems to be wrong with…” Dr. Pharr started to say as he looked closely at his computer screen, but was cut off when Caleb clamped a hand over his mouth and held his head back against his chair. At this moment, Noah quickly stepped into the cramped room and quietly closed the door behind him. Dr. Pharr let out a muffled groan of confusion as he reached for Caleb’s hand. This was Noah’s que to approach the disoriented professor.
Confusion took over and I went blank for a second.
When a bit of my shock wore off, I started getting out of my chair to do something about what was happening, but Jaxon nudged me back into my seat. When I looked at him, expecting his face to reflect my panic, Jaxon calmly put his finger to his lips while keeping his other arm extended to keep me back. This all must have been a setup.
I looked back at Dr. Pharr’s desk to see my professor squirming as Noah strapped his wrists to the arms of his office chair with duct tape. His head was pulled back and his bright red face was tilted up as Caleb’s meaty hand rested heavily over his beard. Dr. Pharr’s glasses were now resting crookedly at the tip of his nose.
His muffled protests were more hysterical now that his confusion turned to terror. They sounded raspy and shaky. The distress in Dr. Pharr’s incomprehensible pleas seem to be the only thing in the room I could relate to. It makes sense because who knew that it would come to whatever this is or what sinister intentions Caleb has? Who knows what Jaxon and Noah agreed to that brought us all here?
There was an eerie zen to Caleb’s face as he held Dr. Pharr. Even though Jaxon and Noah are taking part in all this, I see a bit of emptiness and uncertainty in their eyes, showing that they probably realize that they’re getting into something deep, but refusing to acknowledge it. Yet Caleb seems just as cool as he normally is, looking at Dr. Pharr’s flushed and panicking face as if he were just scrolling Facebook on his phone. In fact, it seems as though Caleb is drinking all of this in. Afterall, Dr. Pharr, a man who is usually composed and confident, looks fairly small at the moment. The thought suddenly creeped into my mind that this must be something that Caleb had been fantasizing about considering how much he despised authority and craved utter control and power.
Noah then pulled out what looked like a small hand towel and moved it toward Dr. Pharr’s face, but stopped when he noticed that Caleb wasn’t moving his hand. He looked at Caleb with slight confusion. Caleb lifted the hand that was resting on Dr. Pharr’s shoulder to get the towel from Noah. Caleb moved his hand from the professor’s mouth.
“Please! Don…Ehr” Dr. Pharr pleaded for a split second, but was cut off by the rag suppressing his tongue and jaw. He let out a muffled cough that was mixed with failed attempts to speak as his lips reluctantly rested around the towel, some of it draped over his bottom lip. Dr. Pharr’s cheeks flexed and eyebrows raised as he looked at his wrist restraints. He was breathing heavily as he processed what was happening, but he seemed to be trying to calm himself down.
Noah looked at Dr. Pharr, then lifted the roll of duct tape to Caleb, offering it to him. Caleb motioned for him to move towards the door. After Noah got out of the way, Caleb firmly clamped his other hand over Dr. Pharr’s mouth, causing him to flinch. His chest nervously oscillated as Caleb pushed Dr. Pharr’s glasses back up his nose to rest in front of his eyes and forced him to sit up straight against the back of his chair. Dr. Pharr’s brown eyes showed utter helplessness. A terrifying smirk peeled across Caleb’s face.
“Ew! You got teacher spit all over me!” Caleb said playfully as he wiped his hand on the lapel of Dr. Pharr’s navy blue blazer. Then he finally seemed to notice me and the tension my body was conveying.
“Isaac! You’re part of this” Caleb declared, still smirking. Jaxon and Noah were looking at me with forced smirks as if Caleb just cracked one of his jokes during class. The stress of everything flooded my mind, so it took me a second to realize what Caleb was talking about. Then it all became clear. Caleb sensed my hesitation, not only at this particular moment, but yesterday when I nervously dismissed myself. They were plotting all of this and Jaxon made me meet him here because Caleb somehow knew that my loyalty to him was slipping and that I would never agree to something like this.
By forcing me to be here and voyeuristically watch my professor get assaulted, Caleb is in full control. Like Mr. Pharr, I can’t physically escape the situation even though I’m not physically in Caleb’s grip. Regardless of how powerless I am at the moment, Dr. Pharr is in this situation because of me. He had his guard down because he trusted me more than anyone in this group of hoodlums. If I hadn’t left the group yesterday, Caleb’s madness might not have escalated to this extreme.
Since I witnessed everything without stopping my friends or letting them hurt me from trying to stop them, I’m essentially part of the problem. Afterall, it has become known around campus that I am part of this friend group now. At this point, if I tried anything, I’d either wind up in Dr. Pharr’s position, tied up and manhandled while awaiting God-knows what, or blamed for some of it if I got away and told somebody because it would be my word against the horrifying solidarity these friends have with each other. To Dr. Pharr, I probably seemed like bait that intentionally lured him into this trap because I’m yet another lost soul just like Jaxon, Noah, and Annette, even though I’m just an unwilling worm that’s stuck to a hook.
TO BE CONTINUED
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