Part III

After a brief silence in which no one moved, Mr. Salimbene stepped back from the table and without a word to the group, gestured to the door that led to the formal dining room.  Everyone stood up but no one started for the door. Looking at one another, Joaquin was the first to let out a nervous laugh and say, “Well let’s go. Before it gets cold!”

Following Joaquin, Jonathan pushed aside the feeling that there must be hidden cameras and they were unwitting participants in some kind of reality show. One by one, they entered the dining room. The deep red of the walls and the imposing formal chandelier cast a gothic feel to the eight-person table which was already set with white china bowls and plates, crystal glasses already filled with red wine, and gleaming silverware. 

“What, no blue books?” Jonathan asked with a chuckle, referring to the plain notebooks handed out for exams.  For the first time since the evening started, his question elicited a warm response from the others.

A place had been set at the head and Mr. Salimbene was now standing behind the chair. On the side of the table closest to the outside wall were three table settings and small name cards just behind the plates. On the opposite side, close to the fireplace where a small fire was burning were two other place settings.

“Well here I am,” said Georgiana taking her place behind the chair at the far end of the table close to the entrance they’d just come through. Jonathan peered at the name cards and saw that he was to her left and Joaquin was to his left.  He glanced at him and then pointed to the chair, trying to be helpful. By process of elimination, John and Claudia walked to the other side of the table where they found that Claudia would be closest to Mr. Salimbene. 

“Was this seating arrangement intentional?” Claudia asked, looking at Mr. Salimbene.

“Yes.  By Dr. Magdelinskas,” he responded in a tone that said there would be no further elaboration on the reasoning. He pulled his chair out and sat down, signaling to everyone else to do the same.

“Why do I feel as nervous as I did when I took my very last exam with Prof M?” John asked aloud, the slight tremble in his voice allowing everyone to hear that he was quite sincere.  They all murmured their agreement as they took their seats. Everyone turned to look with expectation at Mr. Salimbene, who was now sitting with his elbows on the arms of his chair, his hands clasped at though in prayer, his index fingers forming a point under his chin.

“In the course of this evening, we will of course share a meal. During that meal,” and here Mr. Salimbene paused for a moment before continuing in a slow, measured manner, “the test that Dr. Magdelinskas alluded to will be administered.” 

Jonathan’s eyes flickered back to John and Claudia, sitting opposite him. They were doing the same. A distinct feeling of unease moved through the group.

“We will begin with his favorite soup,” Mr. Salimbene said, just as Ms. Nugent came through the swinging door in the back-left corner of the dining room, pushing a small silver serving cart with an elegant soup tureen on it. 

Claudia’s eyes widened, “It has to be saltibarsciai!”

“Bless you,” Jonathan said, furrowing his brow. “Salty what?”

“Shalteebarshchay,” Claudia said with more enunciation through a frown. “It’s a Lithuanian beet soup.”

Starting with Mr. Salimbene, Ms. Nugent removed the top of the tureen, setting it on the cart. Taking the ladle out of the tureen, she poured a purplish, pink liquid into his bowl.  Jonathan managed to keep his mouth shut but he stole a glance around the table to gauge the reaction of others. Claudia was smiling and quietly clapping her hands together. 

John, on the other hand, decided to give voice to what most of them were thinking.  “It looks…it bears a striking resemblance to…apologies Dr. Magdelinskas,” he said looking toward the ceiling.  He continued, “But it looks like Pepto Bismal!”

Claudia shot a dirty look at John who merely shrugged.

“So, Claudia, I take it you are familiar with this…dish?” Joaquin asked.

“Quite.  My grandmother, my father’s mother, was Lithuanian. She always made this in the summer time. It’s a little weird to eat a cold soup this late in the fall but I suppose Prof Mag couldn’t help when this dinner would happen, right?” she concluded.

As Claudia was speaking, Ms. Nugent continued around the table, moving next to Claudia and then John.  Although she had her hands in her lap, it was clear Claudia was quite excited and impatient waiting for everyone to be served.

Ms. Nugent next approached Georgiana who gave a weak smile and in a low voice asked, “Just a small serving, if you don’t mind.” Ms. Nugent paused, and then obliged, tipping the ladle so just a small portion fell into the bowl.

Approaching Jonathan, Ms. Nugent paused to look at him, expecting another to hesitation. Jonathan smiled and said, mustering more enthusiasm than he felt, “Yes, please. Thank you.” Ms. Nugent gave a tight smile and ladled a portion far more generous than Jonathan might have otherwise given himself.

Moving on, she approached Joaquin who leaned back a bit before gesturing to his bowl, saying, “Thank you.”

Having completed serving everyone at the table, Ms. Nugent replaced the soup tureen lid and proceeded to leave the room pushing the serving cart back into the kitchen.

Lifting his spoon, Mr. Salimbene signaled that everyone should start eating. No longer needing to contain herself, Claudia dove in with gusto and immediately started murmuring her satisfaction.

Jonathan decided, in honor of Prof Mag, he’d give it an honest try, grabbing a bit of the hardboiled egg that was in the middle, and bringing a full spoon up to his mouth.  His immediate reaction was to question why it was so sour but then he noticed the mingling of other flavors such as the sweetness of the beets and the dill.  He looked up and noticed that he wasn’t the only one finding the dish rather more intriguing than he had originally anticipated. 

“Well...,” Joaquin murmured. “This is a pleasant surprise.”   

“Right?!” Claudia said somewhat rhetorically, quite pleased at his favorable response.

“I confess, I would never order this off a menu, but…it’s not half bad,” John said joining in the agreement. “Georgiana?”

“Emmmm…,” she demurred.  

“It will grow on you,” Claudia assured her.  “What do you think, Mr. Salimbene?”

All eyes turned to their host, who had been quiet during their conversation. He looked up and Jonathan was sure he detected the slightest shimmer of moisture in his eyes. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “Jeremy introduced me to saltibarsciai the first summer after we graduated from college.”

Everyone grew quiet. For all the individual, deep, and intense memories each of them had of this extraordinary man with whom they were all privileged to study under, it was clear Mr. Salimbene had a far deeper connection than any of them could pretend to have.

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Salimbene, but if you wouldn’t mind sharing, was Prof Mag always so….” Georgiana trailed off, trying to find the best word. Or perhaps, thought Jonathan, she was trying to find the least offensive word.

“Eccentric?” Mr. Salimbene offered. “Peculiar?” And then he chuckled. “Queer?”

Jonathan shifted in his chair.  Claudia cocked an eye-brow. 

“I mean that in the more archaic sense of the word, of course,” Mr. Salimbene added setting his spoon down. “Jeremy…Dr. Magdelinskas possessed the most extraordinary mind I’d ever encountered. And yes, it was clear to me from day one that I’d never meet anyone like him again in my lifetime,” he said emphasizing the words ‘in my lifetime.’

“Let me give you a most mundane example. We devised a game, mostly for my amusement, to be honest. Jeremy had an incredible collection of CDs, many of which were classical in nature.  Operas, symphonies, etc. So, this game consisted of Jeremy facing away from me so he couldn’t even see which case I pulled out. Then I would put a CD in the player, select a random track, press play and then sit back,” he said, starting to grin for the first time all evening. “He would, I kid you not, within the first few bars, tell me the composer, the piece of music, and the movement.  Every single time!” Mr. Salimbene concluded with a great burst of laughter.

The rest of the table joined him but it was clear as much as Mr. Salimbene enjoyed telling this anecdote, it was still tinged with a heavy sadness.  Jonathan got the distinct feeling that this was just the tip of an iceberg sunk deep in the ocean.

“Thank you for sharing that,” Georgiana said in a voice just above a whisper.  “So yes,” she continued. “He was always a bit queer,” she finished, with a slight chuckle.

“I will never forget, I was just a freshman,” Joaquin began.  “And it was very early in the semester and he was lecturing, scribbling away on the board, and of course we were all frantically trying to keep up.  And as he’s speaking to us in English, he suddenly starts writing all in Latin!”

John started slapping one hand on the table, as he burst out laughing, “That happened to you as well?! Well, except in my instance, it was French.  Just as though a switch had flipped!”

Joaquin laughed, and asked, “And did he suddenly realize what he’d done, step back, and then say, ‘Well, if you don’t understand this…”

And before he could finish, they all said in unison, affecting Prof Mag’s speech pattern, “I suggest you look it up!”

The temperature in the room seemed to rise by a degree or two, as they all enjoyed this moment of collective memory and experience. Jonathan started to think, perhaps this is why we were all chosen.  He knew we’d all carried memories like this with us long after we’d left the university.   

“And yet,” Jonathan said, “he was also relatively humble. It wasn’t until I was his teaching assistant my senior year that I even discovered how young he was when he got his PhD.”

“I’m not sure it was modesty,” John interjected, “so much as it was he had absolutely no reason to put on airs. He knew exactly what he was about and didn’t need to prove anything to anyone.”

Jonathan paused to consider this but before he could respond, Georgiana added, “And that would probably explain why he was so demanding. He just couldn’t appreciate that anyone else wasn’t capable of the same caliber of work as he was.”

Her tone suggested that she still carried some unresolved bitterness.  Nevertheless, it didn’t provoke any disagreement either.  As much warmth as Mr. Salimbene’s story added to the room, Georgiana’s brought it back down.  Everyone returned to eating their soup, without additional comment.

As each of them, in turn set their spoons down inside the empty or nearly empty bowls, Mr. Salimbene started to look somewhat distressed. Ms. Nugent came through the door with the cart again and with far more speed than when serving the soup, cleared their bowls from the table and went straight back into the kitchen without comment.

It wasn’t until the kitchen door stopped swinging completely that Mr. Salimbene finally cleared his throat and began to speak.

Part IV & Epilogue

 

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