The Green Revolution by Ralph McInerny

man who had to be Roger Knight. Genoux knew him by reputation; he had been pointed out to him from a third-floor window of the Main Building, guiding his golf cart among the students on the walk. Within a few years, the man had become a legend. He seemed to know more about the place to which he had come than those who had spent a lifetime there. How could such alleged genius be housed in that massive body? He had caught Roger’s eye and was beckoned forward.
    â€œFather Genoux, isn’t it?”
    Genoux was amazed. They had never met. He had no reason to think that Roger even knew he existed. “ The Ethics of Austen. ” The huge man made a little face and wagged a finger.
    â€œYou’ve read it?” This was Genoux’s doctoral dissertation, rotting as he would have thought like Miss Havisham’s wedding cake in some obscure corner of the library.
    â€œI found it interesting. For a dissertation, that is.”
    The other man said, “I am Francis Parkman. Are you the Genoux who works in the president’s office?”
    Startled, Genoux laughed a nervous laugh. “Work in the president’s office? That’s an oxymoron.”
    Roger Knight, at least, appreciated this.
    â€œYou have a bad habit of not answering letters.”
    What would he say if he knew the letters were filed under CRANKS ? Parkman, chairman of the Weeping Willow Society, did not look at all like Genoux had imagined.
    â€œNot the ethics of Austen,” Roger chided.
    â€œI wish I could discuss it now,” Genoux lied, “but the fact is I dropped by to ask Professor Knight if he could possibly meet the wife of one of the trustees on Monday.”
    â€œThen you do accommodate some wishes.”
    â€œMimi O’Toole. She’s staying in the Morris Inn. She wants to talk about Baron Corvo.”
    â€œFor lunch?” Roger asked.
    â€œThat would be perfect.”
    â€œOnly if we can be served on the patio.”
    â€œI’ll let her know.”
    Mission accomplished, he wanted to flee, but Parkman was now positioned in a way that would make that difficult.
    â€œFather, know this. We are quite serious, and we intend to get the information we ask for. We intend to get responses to the sensible suggestions we have made. We are not in the grip of some momentary pique. For many of us, if this is the last thing we do in our lives, we will be content. So please don’t think that our society will fade away like a football season.”
    â€œI promise to pass this on,” Genoux said.
    â€œThreats are never seemly, particularly threats of litigation. I speak as a judge. But you might consider that there are many strange new laws and even stranger judicial decisions. Surely you wouldn’t want to be sued by alumni whose desires are the good of this institution?”
    All this was said in the calmest of tones, Parkman’s voice raised only because of the level of noise in the apartment. In self-defense, Genoux took his hand and shook it vigorously. He nodded at Roger.
    â€œMonday.”
    â€œDid you say Mimi O’Toole, Father?” Parkman asked.
    â€œYes.”
    Genoux waited, but there was nothing further.

14
    Only after persistent questioning had Father Carmody told Iggie the line from the Cataline Orations.
    â€œDid you pass that class?”
    â€œFather, I loved Latin.”
    â€œNot a reciprocated passion. You better go easy with that stuff.” The priest nodded at Iggie’s glass. There was some giant who kept filling it up. Iggie’s glasses were in his shirt pocket, and even apart from the alcohol he had consumed, the world would have been blurred.
    â€œAt this time of night it goes down like water.”
    â€œThat’s what it largely is. It’s the rest that does you in.”
    â€œNot Iggie Willis.”
    â€œDoesn’t your profession require a steady hand?”
    The image of Pearl drifted by Iggie’s clouded mind, followed