They have a house?
“Do you ever wonder what the Docs house is like?” Dick asked, throwing a stress ball in the air and catching it. He was leaning back in his chair, resting all of the weight on the back two legs with his feet propped up on the desk.
“I always just thought they appeared out of thin air,” Faham responded.
“Given they drive a ‘22 Packard, they probably have a hella nice house.” Jerry was walking in when she overheard the conversation.
“Why are you always two minutes behind?” Dick questioned,
“And how do you know what they drive.”
“They gave me a ride home last night after I was here for way too long. I bet they live in a…” she paused, “Actually, I have two. Can I have two?”
Faham grinned, pulling a notebook and three gel pens from her backpack. “Please, I think we can do two guesses each!” They all gathered around Faham's desk, Jerry sitting on the edge and Dick hovering to the side, leaning his hip on the other edge.
"Okay, I think they either have a cottage with a shit ton of plants or like a real ritzy high-rise apartment.”
“Nah, man, they have a small suburban house or,” Dick dragged the r sound out as he thought, “Or they have a building.”
“No, I'm going with a cottage in the woods or a castle” Faham tapped a pen against her cheek in thought.
“I think they have a normal home that has a garage for their cars,” Sigrid said, appearing behind their graduate students. They all jumped, spinning around from where they sat. Sigrid chuckled, leaning forward onto their cane, “I have lived in each of those dwellings, however, but currently, I believe my home is my business, yes? Unless you can explain each of your thoughts.” there was a glint in their eye their students recognized as a challenge.
Faham looked between her colleagues, debating if she should explain her answers. She hadn't worked with Sigrid for long. Jerry had been there the longest of the three of them. She decided that she would see what Jerry did before she answered.
“Well, based on the type of car you drive, I think it's safe to assume you live somewhere that is conducive to the car, so high rise, but you don't seem like a city person, no offense, so something outside the city. You also usually change shoes when you get to the building, but that could be for a lot of reasons. ” Jerry waved a hand in the air by her head dismissively as if she was shooing away a fly.
“Faham?”
“Well, you,” she started, “you,” she paused, “The vibe. That's all I have. Just you have the vibe of someone that would live in a castle.” she shrugged.
“I just think you’re eccentric and would need to live near the university.” Dick cut in.
“Well, you all have good reasons, vibe being my favorite. Feeling is one of the criteria for the National Register of historic places; after all, when you discuss integrity so being able to identify the feeling or, vibe, if you will, of something is a good skill. Very good, Faham.” They turned to Dick, “Spatially, it would make logical sense for me to live near where I work. It is also the simplest explanation making it the most likely solution. Good thinking, Dick. Jerry,” they turned, facing their oldest student, “good use of information available to you, the type of car I drive, as well as the shoes I change each day. Very astute.” they smiled that smile that made Jerry uncomfortable, “I'm proud of you all.” they turned and walked to their office, relying heavily on their cane.
Dick tilted his head, “So, who was right?”
“You'll find out. Just keep following your ideas.” the door closed to their office behind them. The students heard the step-clip-poof of Sigrid sitting in their chairs.
The students looked at each other before shuffling back to their respective desks. Jerry thought Sigrid had overdone it by jumping from desk to desk the day before.
When she had first started at the university, she had noticed that Sigrid sometimes used a cane and sometimes was practically skateboarding down the hallways. She had never asked, deciding it wasn't her business, but she had kept track of what preceded the days when they would rely on a mobility aid. Usually, she noticed, if their left hip was jostled or injured, the next day, it was almost guaranteed they would be needing assistance the next day. She wanted to know why. Did they have an old injury? According to publications, they had to be at least 50, but they didn't look any older than 30. Were they using it to prove a point? That didn't seem like them, and she had seen them in actual pain before when someone pushed past them on the staircase.
She started chewing on her pencil, glaring at the door. Thesis be damned. She wanted to know what was going on with her professor.
Google.com/search
Sigrid … …
“Hey, guys? What's the doc’s last name?”
“I think it's.” Dick paused,
“I don't know. Is it not on the school website?”
The sound of clocking keys filled the lab. Each student frantically searching for their advisor's last name. Jerry could swear she heard someone laugh from Sigrid's office. Almost.
“They have to have a last name, right? Like legally?”
“Unless they're older than last names,” Dick whispered, more to himself than anyone else. Jerry raised an eyebrow.
“Board it,” she mumbled.
“Hm?” Faham hummed.
“Oh uh, board it, it was ah uh bad reference.”
“Like conspiracy board?” she raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. It nearly reached her cap. She was doing a baby blue cap with a pink hijab today. Jerry couldn’t help but notice how well it complimented her skin.
“Yeah, actually.”
“We could start one.” Dick grinned.
It wasn't a bad idea. Jerry could have them over to study, and they could use it as a mental break. If anything, it was team bonding and mental health assistance.
“We could, Saturday at the cafe?” Jerry tilted her head. She knew she was making what Sigrid had dubbed a ‘confused grad student’ face.
“Wait, seriously?” Dick and Faham chorused. Both looked at her in a mixture of shock and amusement.
“Sure, why not. We were planning to do a maritime archaeology study class anyway, and I can totally convince Nico to give us coffee.”
“We couldn't take advantage of Nico’s shop.”
“By convince, I meant to pay for it. I couldn't ever take free shit from Nico. They are already the best roommate I could ask for.”
Faham gasped, “And they were roommates!”
“Oh, shut up!” Jerry laughed, “One o clock, Saturday bring yarn.” she stood shaking her finger at each of her colleagues. “I'll see you there.”
“We wouldn't miss it.”
Sigrid smiled to themselves from their desk. They had been listening to their students debate over their last names. They'd had one at one time, they were sure. Then again, over the years, they had been called so many things. Maybe this year's batch of students would be the first to figure out they were older than the university.
Many of their past students had theorized. In the eighties, a group of students had gotten close, but they had gotten bored with the theories halfway through the year. In the nineties, a professor had started asking them questions, but again, had gotten bored with the mystery after midterms.
They stood, moving through the office, staring at their bookshelf. “I think this may be the year someone figures it out.” they straightened their ‘Icelandic dictionary’; someone had borrowed it recently and hadn't put it away correctly.
“Yes,” they hummed, “this year, someone would figure it out. Maybe they would just need a little bit of help.”