The Case of the Defunct Adjunct

Chapter Three

Linda Wilson, Acting Associate Dean of Mahina State University's Student Retention Office, presided over the registration table. She wore her blonde hair pinned back by a pink silk hibiscus, which echoed the florid print of her muumuu.

Emma Nakamura nudged me. "Eh Molly, look. It's the Queen Bee—"

"Shh. Not so loud."

Linda from the Student Retention Office was Emma's nemesis. One of them, anyway.

"What? She can't hear us. We're all the way in the back of the line."

A nervous young man, whose crisply-pressed aloha shirt was too big around the neck, assisted Linda. As each attendee signed in and filled out a name tag, the young man handed over a folder and delivered what looked like a practiced speech.

"Aw, this line is gonna take forever. Let's just go to the bar. Look, it's right over there."

"I wish. I bet the Lehua Lounge is nice and cool inside." I shook the hem of my shirt to get some airflow around my skin. "What I want to know is, how does Linda wear those long-sleeved muumuus every day without passing out?"

"She's cold-blooded, that's why. Like a snake."

"I see she has another new assistant. She doesn't seem to keep them very long."

"That's 'cause every full moon, she mates with them, then devours them headfirst."

"Stop it. Do you think I should tell her about what happened this morning with Bret Lampson? You know, I already tried to tell them that I was concerned about him."

"Wouldn't do any good. She'll just come up with some reason why it's your fault."

"Yeah, you're right. Hey, guess who's a finalist for the teaching award."

"You?"

"Seriously, Emma? You think the Student Retention Office would nominate me?"

"Okay, who then?"

"Your brother's office mate."

"My brother's former office mate, you mean. Jonah's classes got cancelled, remember."

"Oh, that's right. Sorry."

"No way." Emma socked my shoulder to demonstrate her incredulity. "Kent got nominated? Fo'real? Who told you?"

"The dean's secretary."

"Kent Lovely? That stringy little schmuck—"

"Shh. Not so loud. Hang on, I'm going to grab something to read."

We were inching past a polished koa stand stacked with tourist brochures and free newspapers. I stepped out of line and grabbed a copy of Island Confidential.

"Ugh. Kent? He's even worse than his buddy Rodge. Seriously, the teaching award?"

"Kent is not worse than Rodge. Rodge is the reason we have to keep our doors open when we have a student in our office. That's why it's called the Rodge Cowper Rule—wait, did you just call Kent a schmuck?"

"Oh, maybe you forgot that I earned my Ph.D. at Cornell."

"You would never let anyone forget you went to Cornell, Emma."

"It's in New York."

"They say schmuck in Ithaca? Seriously?"

We had reached the front of the line. I started to write my name on the sign-in sheet. Emma picked up a glossy flyer from the table and waved it under my nose.

"Look, Molly. Wowing Your Students with Extraordinary Customer Service!"

Linda's young assistant recited his lines. "Good afternoon, ladies. Today, you'll learn about some Best Practices to help you generate peak customer satisfaction."

Linda caught sight of Emma and placed a hand on the young man's arm, as if to say, I'll take it from here.

"Hello, Emma. Molly. How nice to see you two here today."

"Hi, Linda." I smiled pleasantly, finished signing in, and offered the pen to Emma.

"Of course we're here." Emma snatched the pen from me. "No choice. They told us it was mandatory."

Emma scribbled her name and phone number on the sign-in sheet, and then we each took a paper name tag and a felt-tip marker. I wrote Molly Barda—College of Commerce on mine. Emma wrote "Emma" on hers.

"Linda," I said, "this customer satisfaction thing—you know, when we keep telling the students that they're the customers, some of them interpret that to mean the customer is always right, and they can do whatever—"

"The customer framework is a transformative paradigm," Linda interrupted. "New ways of thinking are going to disrupt education as we know it, with improved modalities of engagement. We'll be going over that in our session today."

"Yes, I'm sure it will be very helpful and interesting. All I'm trying to say is—if all I focused on was customer satisfaction, why wouldn't I just, I don't know, throw away the syllabus, let the students miss as many classes as they want, and then give them all As?"

Emma snorted. Linda looked startled. Maybe I had gone too far.

"Why Molly," Linda said. "I'm pleasantly surprised."

"You are?"

"That's very out-of-the-box thinking."

"It is? Oh, no, I didn't mean—"

Linda turned to Emma.

"It would be wonderful if all of our faculty were as open to fresh thinking as you are, Molly. Some of your colleagues are afraid to give up control in the classroom. They're threatened by change."

Emma folded her sturdy arms.

"Maybe some of us don't want to change into Clown College."

"We're not trying to start an argument." I grasped Emma's elbow and steered her away from the registration table.

"Yes we are," Emma protested.

"It was so thoughtful of the Student Retention Office to arrange this for us," I called back. "I know you put a lot of work into it. Thank you, Linda. Thanks, uh—"

I didn't know the new sidekick's name, and hadn't noticed a name tag.

"Have a great afternoon, ladies," Linda said. "Enjoy the retreat."

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