I had raced on my bike to get to the lecture hall as quickly as possible, but still had arrived a little bit after the talk began. My zoology professor had strongly recommended attending the talk to her class and not quite being an A student, I felt perhaps I should attend.

As I entered the lecture hall I found all seats filled so I stood at the back of the hall and listened to the talk.

I was enthralled.

My professor had raved about Professor Jenkins from whom she had taken a class twenty some years ago, when she herself had been a student. Dr. Jenkins had had a brilliant career when he suddenly disappeared from the scene a year after the class she had taken. She told us that his class had been the crucial factor in deciding to choose zoology as a career.

I found the brief article in the campus newspaper somewhat intriguing. Jenkins’ new paper, which had been mailed to the university a few months past, was described as revolutionary and the article also said that his views about evolution were radical. Although I had not read his paper, the topic of his talk was entitled “The Evolution of Cats.” I was certain that his talk would focus on his findings in the paper.

During the talk, I found that I was both shocked and impressed. This is truly a radical idea, I thought to myself!

His theory, that cats were evolved from snakes, was incredible. He described the tail structure of cats, as compared to the tail structure of snakes, as well as offering a comparison of the eyes, the teeth, the brains and the comparative social behavior of the two animals. It was mind-blowing. Quite impressive. I began to understand the excitement of zoology, as his findings were both compelling and persuasively delivered.

The head of the Zoology Department was quoted in the article about the talk as saying, “Dr. Jenkins’ theories will turn the study of zoology on its head. After only a few minutes of the talk, I believed!

Unfortunately, after several minutes I found I could not remain in the hall. I had rushed out of my previous class, not taking time for a bathroom break, but I could not hold off any longer.

Taking care of my business as quickly as possible, I returned to the hall to find the room filled with applause. Professor Jenkins was receiving a standing ovation as he was escorted off the stage by two tall gentlemen, exiting to the side.

A little disappointed, but still excited by the talk, and quite hungry, I decided to ride off campus and get a tofu burger.

I jumped up on my bike and rode down the narrow alley beside the lecture hall and slowed as I saw a white van parked by the side exit door. Professor Jenkins was being assisted into the back of the van by one of his escorts, who buckled him in and closed the door.

I paused in the narrow space by the van to walk my bike on past, when the name on the van caught my eye. “Pinehaven,” it said.

“Excuse me, I asked the gentleman leaning against the van, who was finishing a smoke, ”is the professor going to a funeral?”

“A funeral?” said the gentleman, “Why’s that?”
“Oh,” I said, “I just saw the name on the van and thought. . .”

“You thought that Pinehaven is a cemetery,” he laughed. “That’s a good one! No, Pinehaven is a mental institution.”
“A cemetery,” he repeated, as he laughed and walked around the van to open the driver’s side door.
That was an odd exchange, I thought as I rode my bike to MacTofu’s.

Later that evening I got on the internet to learn more about Professor Jenkins. The sources all described him as a brilliant young professor, who had twin doctorates in psychology and zoology, but who was chiefly known for his contributions to zoology. Jenkins had ended his academic career early, simply vanishing from the academic arena without fanfare.

Both psychology and zoology, I thought. I was filled with excitement. My principle problem in school was that I couldn't make up my mind between sociology and zoology. I loved animals, but was fascinated by human behavior. How could I have two careers so different? It looks like Professor Jenkins had managed it. After a successful career in academic zoology, he left to enter a career as a psychologist at Pinehaven. Maybe I could do that too!

I realized that I had a strong desire to learn more about my mystery professor.

Next, I did a google search for Pinehaven and my city.

“Aha!” I said, as I found a web page that gave me a description of Pinehaven as well as directions to drive there. it was located just outside the city.

A few days later, as I drove to Pinehaven, I mused to myself. I too would like to pursue dual academic careers. While I had a great love of sociology, Imy interest in zoology was growing. Could I possibly manage having two major careers? If Professor Jenkins has done it, perhaps I could, as well. Although no one has so far described me as brilliant, I was still young in my academic career, only a sophomore.

As I pulled into the driveway for Pinehaven I was impressed by the lovely grounds. Inside the high wrought iron fence, was a green expanse of well maintained lawn, several pine trees, and lovely flowers growing near the large brick building.

At the front desk I checked in and said that I was a student of zoology at the university and had seen Professor Jenkins’ talk and wondered if I could meet with him. She looked at me for what seemed like a long minute and said, “I suppose that would be possible, but you really should have called in advance. Let me see what his schedule is for today.”

She looked down at some papers on her desk as I chattered away, a little bit excited. “Of course, if he is too busy today, I understand. If I could only have ten minutes with him and I am willing to wait, or come back another day. I found his talk really exciting, imagine that cats could be evolved from snakes!”

“We thought his paper was quite good, as well,” she said, “and we were very supportive, and pleased that the university liked it. Unfortunately the paper he is working on now seems not to be so promising.”

“Oh, what is that?” I asked.

“This one is an explanation of how horse shoes originally grew on ironwood trees,” she replied. We had hoped with the paper about cats and snakes that he was showing some signs of improvement, but now he’s back writing the loony stuff.

“But I think you can visit him this afternoon. He is just finishing up an art activity now, and after his meds you can see him for a few minutes. It might do him good."