Even after the professor retired from teaching, he continued to advise and assist Blake, helping him earn a privileged chancellor’s scholarship to pay for his Master’s degree in System Control. However, after his wife died, the professor rejected the love offered him by friends and family, shunning Blake from his life as he did everyone else, seemingly resigned to waiting out his final days alone … so Blake thought.
Blake pulled into a parking lot at a seaside restaurant on the Malibu coast. The lot bustled with Los Angelinos and tourists anxious to valet their cars and hurry to a packed outdoor bar with vast ocean views.
“Blake,” the professor hollered from amidst the crowd.
Turning, Blake was shocked by the professor’s mussed hair and splotches of gray stubble that didn’t mask a face thinned by weight loss.
“I look like crap, I know.”
“Are you feeling okay?”
“Physically I feel fine. But you can’t imagine the pain of being alone this late in life. It’s like a punishment.”
“I wish I could say something to make it better.”
“Nothing needs to be said. Besides, I’m not one to spite God’s will. In fact, I think for the first time in my life I can appreciate his actions; God left me behind to finish a task I started decades ago. That’s why I asked you to meet me.”
“I’m honored. But you don’t need to wait for special occasions or moments of need to call me.”
“Yes, I know. Maybe things would be easier if I didn’t shut everybody out. I guess it was my way of not being an unwanted burden on my kids.”
“You could never be a burden on me, Professor Eldred.”
The aging professor placed an arm around his favorite student. “I appreciate that, Blake. You give me encouragement that calling you was the right thing to do.”
After being seated at a table overlooking a quiet stretch of beach, the professor confessed to eating at the restaurant several times a week, alone. Blake struggled to understand why the professor insisted on perpetuating his loneliness.
“So how’s your summer going?” the professor asked.
“I heard from NASA,” Blake said, no excitement in his voice.
The comment struck an inner cord with the professor. He had been an active participant in Blake’s pursuit of a career with NASA, then disappeared from his life for the culmination. He knew from Blake’s tone that the news was bad, but before he could respond, a waitress interrupted.
“Can I get you gentlemen some drinks?”
“More than ever,” the professor told her. “Beer, Blake?”
“Corona please.”
“Make that two, and two shots of tequila. A little hooch never did any harm,” he told Blake, showing his first unforced smile. “Especially after bad news.”
“It’s that obvious NASA said no?” Blake grimaced.
“I’m afraid so.”
“Four thousand applicants for twenty spots. I didn’t even get a second thought.”
“I’m sorry, Blake. You can reapply when you have more experience. For now, there are other options to consider. As I understand it, you have department approval to pursue your Ph.D.”
“I don’t know if the Ph.D. is in the cards any longer. I need money. At least I want to start earning some.”
“One rejection letter and you’re giving up on your dream? You knew that you were a long shot at this point.”
“I know, but the thought of staying in school doesn’t sound appealing anymore. This dream about working in the space program, I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ve got to put in almost as many years as I would have with medical school, except there’s no guarantee that I’ll be doing what I want when I’m done.”
“You never had a desire to practice medicine. You just wanted the salary. If money is all you’re concerned about, go into business.”
“That’s never been an interest either.”
“Exactly my point. You need to do what you love; eventually the money will follow.”
The professor was again acting as the mentor Blake knew and admired, confident and optimistic with time-tested advice. Now it was Blake feeling sorry for himself. “I’m just worried that if I get my doctorate and don’t make the space program, my career will be focused around research and teaching. I’ll be in school my entire life.”
“And that’s not a good way to make a living?”
The waitress returned with the drinks.
Silently berating himself for insulting the professor’s livelihood, Blake tossed the tequila into his mouth and threw back his head to swallow. “That comment didn’t come out the way I intended,” he strained to say through a burning aftertaste.
“Actually teaching was a concession for me.” Not wanting a young drinker to show him up, the old man downed his tequila without the slightest cringe of his sunken cheeks.
“I always thought you were passionate about teaching,” Blake said thoughtfully.
“I became passionate after the fact,” the professor said. “There are a few things about my past that I never shared with you, or anyone for that matter, besides Constance. Ghosts you can call them. Being a humble professor and subservient member of society kept them from haunting me. The advantage I have now is that ghosts can’t haunt a dead man, or a man who is ready to die.”
“Talking about them seems to invigorate you.”
“That’s God’s doing. As I told you, he left me alone in the world for a reason. I also believe he kept you out of NASA for a reason. Instead of getting down on yourself, you need to find out what that reason is.”
“Something tells me you already know.”
“I have an option for you to consider. That’s all.”
“I’m wasting my days working out and lying in the sun,” Blake admitted. “I could use some options at this point.”
“There’s a project I’ve been working on since Constance passed. The timing is ripe for you to get involved. I think we can convince the department chairs to allow you to conduct an ad hoc field of study for your Ph.D. based on our research. I’ll see that your tuition is covered and you have money to live on, and maybe have some left over for a change.”
“This is a surprise.”
“The experience will also be crucial to your future plans. There’s no doubt that space exploration will become more privatized in your lifetime. The foreign space agencies are also working with American firms, planning shuttle programs far more advanced than NASA’s. This research will enable you to mold your future with these private companies. To hell with NASA and any regrets you might have about not becoming a doctor. I’m going to put you in control of your destiny.”
“Sounds like you have it all planned.”
“Just some ideas … with tremendous potential.”
“What’s the topic?”
“Gravitational-based propulsion systems. I’m going to teach you to build your own spaceship.”
“Where’d all this come from?”
“My very distant past.”
Blake took a moment to comprehend everything the professor had just dropped on him. “On the surface you make it sound too simple to pass up.”
“The topic has a few drawbacks,” the professor admitted.