Having Professor Magdelinskas for Dinner - Part IV & Epilogue

May 1, 2018 Cayetana Navarro

Part IV

“Undoubtedly, you have begun to wonder when the test that Jeremy alluded to in his video would begin and what it would consist of. I will now divulge the details and stipulations of that test,” Mr. Salimbene said, taking a tri-folded piece of paper out of his suit coat pocket.

Jonathan’s ears pricked at hearing Mr. Salimbene use Prof Mag’s first name. Although he had dispensed with that formality, he looked no less serious as he put on a pair of reading glasses, unfolded the paper, and peered down at it as though reading it for the first time, as implausible as that had to be.

Looking up, he began, “Jeremy’s instructions were quite clear to those caring for him in his last days as were his instructions to me, as executor of his last will and testament. As you should all be aware, he had a significant network of colleagues in both his profession as well as other fields. These individuals were as close to him as any family of choice could be and had no issue with helping him carry out his last wishes, no matter how…incredible.”

The way Mr. Salimbene’s voice fell on the last word made everyone at the table shift or fidget in some way. Jonathan, for his part, felt his stomach tighten. He returned to his earlier thought: just what had they gotten themselves into? Mr. Salimbene continued, now reading directly from the piece of paper:

“Students! On the menu for tonight, you will find a kidney bean and toasted corn salad, saffron risotto, and osso bucco con gremolata. What will make the osso bucco unique and far more intriguing than any preparation you’ve ever had before is that it will be a choice cut from my own body. Specifically, my legs. Rest assured I consulted with the best butcher and chef I know regarding this extraordinary choice of meat and I was convinced that this preparation would please the most discerning gourmand."

Mr. Salimbene took a deep breath, looked at each of them, and then returned to his reading:

"As you may have surmised, the test, which is completely voluntary of course, is whether you will choose to consume the main course or not. As I stated in the video, I have no heirs. I had only my students and of those, you are the most select group that I have chosen to offer this endocannibalism opportunity. You should of course all recall the term endocannibalism from your studies with me in Anthropology 102.

Regarding the specifics of the test, you must, to Mr. Salimbene’s satisfaction and his alone, consume your entire portion. While every attempt has been made to ensure everyone has the same amount, there will of course be variances. My apologies for that lack of imprecision.

The value of my estate will be divided amongst those who complete the meal having eaten their full portion. You should also understand that no portion of the meal and no part of the inheritance provided to those completing the test is transferable. There will be no cheating in this exam!

Students, I do hope you appreciate, I have devised this test, not just as a test of your intestinal fortitude, but as the only way I saw possible to ensure I live on in those I held most dear, much as the Wari people of the Amazon did. Although I never put much store by the spiritual aspect of their ritual cannibalism, I do respect the intent.

Finally, I am certain I know who will even attempt the test, who will successfully complete it, and who will simply walk away from it. Nonetheless, you were chosen because I wanted to give you this opportunity and because, whether I’m right or not about your final response to this exam, I wanted one final chance to share myself with you. Thank you and good luck."

Mr. Salimbene quietly folded the paper back up and set it down on the table. He removed his glasses and put them back in his suit coat pocket. He placed his hands in his lap and then, slowly as though through great personal effort, looked up at each of the stunned individuals before him.

Jonathan could not tear his eyes away from Mr. Salimbene. It was as though he were unable to look anywhere else. As though he had tunnel vision, he could only see the man’s face to the exclusion of anything else around him. Were it not for Ms. Nugent pushing her cart through the kitchen door, Jonathan wasn’t sure if he would have been able to break whatever spell he found himself in.

Like a single organism, every one of them turned to look at the cart. A mixture of horror, fascination, and disbelief rippled through every one at the table, including Mr. Salimbene. Ms. Nugent first stopped at his side.

“Sir, I believe you are having the vegetarian option?” she confirmed. He swallowed and nodded as though he didn’t trust his own voice at this point. She first dispensed the saffron risotto, then the kidney bean and corn salad, before lifting the cover off a small serving dish, revealing what appeared to be a most basic lasagna. Having filled his plate, she now turned to Claudia.

Again, she served the risotto and then the bean and corn salad. Finally, she lifted the cover off a larger silver serving platter to reveal five round cuts of meat with a small portion of bone showing, surrounded by a heavy sauce, bits of herb, and what appeared to be onion, carrot, and celery. Setting the cover down on the lower part of the cart, she stood back up, and took up a pair of serving tongs.

“Ma’am?” she asked, pointing to the meat. Claudia’s breathing appeared to have stopped as she looked up imploringly at Ms. Nugent. She blinked several times, opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

Finally, a quiet, “Sorry….”

Ms. Nugent, looked at her perplexed, as though she didn’t understand why there was any confusion. “Do you care which piece you get?”

Claudia burst out laughing, as it occurred to her that this woman must have no idea what she was serving. She was just trying to be polite! “No, oh my goodness no, I…well, actually now that you mention it. I ate so much soup, I’ll take whichever piece you think is smallest!”

Ms. Nugent looked back at the platter, and attempting to oblige, selected a piece and put it on Claudia’s plate and then spooned a portion of the vegetables and sauce over it. She then proceeded to John who, swallowing hard, choked out, “No preference.” Ms. Nugent served him and then moved around the table to Georgiana.

Georgiana turned and looked at the serving platter as though she were going to make a specific choice. But instead, she shoved her chair back, stood up, and smacking the corner of the cart, caused Ms. Nugent to jump in alarm. Georgiana flung her napkin down on her plate and turned to glower at everyone before her.

“This is…,” she spluttered, “this is madness! I can’t believe any of you are going to really go through with this…this…charade. Even if that’s what we think it is, and let’s be honest, this wouldn’t be the first time Prof Mag would play some horrendous joke on all of us just for his own amusement, I am not about to indulge his…his vanity…his ego…my God, his incredibly inflated self-importance!”

“Ms. Charlton…,” Mr. Salimbene started but she cut him off.

“No, it’s fine. I don’t need any part of his estate or his ego! I bit off far more than I should have years ago,” she said, immediately staring to laugh, in a slightly higher pitch than was natural, at her unanticipated humor. With that, she turned and stormed out of the dining room back into the parlor.

Ms. Nugent followed after her, turning briefly at the door to beg everyone’s pardon, saying, “I just need to fetch her coat. I’ll be back momentarily!”

As though a thunderstorm had burst and then just as suddenly subsided, it was quiet in the dining room again. They all looked down at their plates, lost in their own thoughts until Mr. Salimbene coughed and said, “Well…it would appear the possible share of the estate is now down to equal quarters.”

Jonathan reached for his wine glass, and after giving it a quick swirl, took an enormous gulp. As he set it back down, he saw Joaquin reach for his, give him a sidelong glance, and then chuckle, saying only, “Agreed….”

They all turned, hearing the front door open and close, followed by Ms. Nugent’s hurried steps as she re-entered the dining room. “I’m very sorry, Mr. Salimbene, I went as quickly as I could!”

He waved one hand in the air as though to shoo away her apology, saying, “Ms. Nugent, there’s nothing to apologize for as that was clearly out of your control. Please do continue.”

Before he could finish speaking, she was already back at the cart and looking at Jonathan. Taking a deep breath, he looked at the serving platter. It certainly appeared to look like any other cut of red meat. “Any piece will do, Ms. Nugent. Thank you,” he said turning back to the plate before him. She began serving the risotto, salad, and then placed what now looked like an incredibly large piece of meat with a considerable portion of bone in the middle before ladling the sauce and vegetables over it.

“Sir, you have the choice from the two that remain,” Ms. Nugent said, approaching Joaquin on his left side.

“As the others have said, I’m happy with whatever you give me,” he said looking up at her. “But tell me, emm, what will happen with the last piece now that Ms. Charlton has unexpectedly left?”

Jonathan’s eyes widened, realizing why Joaquin thought to ask about this extra piece. Looking around the table, he saw the horror on the other faces as they understood the same thing.

“Well, I suppose it will just go into the trash if no one wants it,” she said as though it should be obvious.

“You know what, perhaps I should just take both,” Joaquin said feigning enthusiasm. “I haven’t eaten all day so I’m sure I have the, eh, appetite for it.”

“As you like, sir,” she said, beginning to fill his plate with food, ending with two pieces of osso bucco. With visible relief, Ms. Nugent took her cart and retreated to the kitchen.

“She doesn’t…does she have any idea?” Joaquin asked a little stunned, looking at Mr. Salimbene.

He nodded no, causing Claudia to gasp. He explained, “She was only asked to serve the meal. It was prepared in advance for her. What you did just now, Joaquin….very admirable. I confess that such a scenario escaped me and everyone involved in the preparation for this evening. It should go without saying that you need not eat both pieces in order to fulfil the requirements of the test.”

The room fell silent as they all stared at their respective plates. John reached for his wine and drank almost half of it before setting it back down and then asking, “Well…is anyone definitely going through with this? I mean, does anyone think they can without any doubt?”

A long pregnant pause filled the room as they all looked at one another. Perhaps recognizing this was a conversation he should not really participate in, or perhaps out of genuine hunger, Mr. Salimbene began eating, starting with a forkful of lasagna.

“I…I will. I am,” Joaquin said first. “I have eaten a lot of strange things in my life. I don’t see why this should be any different.” And although he did not begin with the meat, he did fill a fork with the corn and bean salad and started eating.

“That’s all fine and good, Joaquin,” Claudia said sounding incredulous. “But Christ, this isn’t just some strange thing you find in some rural village of Mexico!” She seemed to find it hard to believe that he could be so blasé about the distinction.

“Mexicans don’t eat just anything,” Joaquin responded with just a hint of acid in his voice. “But we are thankful about what is offered to us and revere the effort that goes into preparing a meal.”

“When I was living in Paris,” Jonathan jumped in, “I remember seeing a van pull up to a boucherie. The driver jumped out, opened the back doors, slung a gutted pig over his shoulder, and walked in with it. I remember thinking, ‘wow, that’s not something I’d ever see in the US!’”

“This is a freakin’ person on our damn plate! And someone we knew!” John exclaimed, losing all pretense of being an over-educated aesthete he’d feigned earlier. “We’re not talking about appreciating quaint customs as an eager exchange student here!” John said, his voice rising with his exasperation.

Jonathan started to feel a combination of anger and embarrassment starting under his collar and traveling up to his ears. In a fit of pique, he picked up his knife and fork and started cutting meat off the bone. In his haste, he sliced too hard, causing a shriek from the knife against the plate. Stabbing the piece of meat with his fork, he lifted it up to his mouth.

The sound of Claudia saying, “Oh my god…” was enough to cause him to pause and look at the meat dangling off the end of the tines.

Jonathan looked up and saw all eyes were now on him. Breathing heavily, he croaked out a hoarse, “We’re just animals. No different. No better.” And with that he stuck the fork in his mouth, pulled it out and started to chew. Closing his eyes, he tried desperately not to think about what he was doing. He tried instead to focus on figuring out what it tasted like. Pork? Veal? Definitely not the stereotypical ‘just like chicken’ often associated with unusual meat.

After swallowing, he opened his eyes, looked around, and realized with absolute certainty that he’d crossed some line from which there was no going back. Swallowing hard again, he set his fork down, reached for his glass of wine, and took another gulp.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” was all Claudia could say before she jumped up and fled the room for the foyer and the small bathroom down the hall.

Jonathan looked at the men who remained, trying to gauge their reaction. John was again staring down at his plate. Mr. Salimbene was still eating, albeit with much slower deliberation.

Joaquin was alone in looking right at him, and unusual for the circumstances, with a smile. He chuckled, barely audible, before picking his fork back up, along with his knife, and started to cut off a bite-sized piece of meat.

To force himself to keep going, Jonathan started eating the salad and risotto but he kept a sidelong look at Joaquin to watch for his reaction. Like Jonathan, he closed his eyes as he started to chew. As he opened his eyes, he said to no one in particular, “Basically like pork, isn’t it?”

Claudia walked back into the room. John looked over at her and said, “It’s a regular ‘Chef’s Table’ in here, Claudia. You should come have a seat and watch the show!” His sarcasm was unmistakable.

“I’m sorry. No. I can’t do this. Any of this,” she said gesturing at the table, the room, and then the house itself, it seemed. “Mr. Salimbene, thank you, but if I may get Ms. Nugent…,” she started to walk toward the kitchen but before she could get to the door, Mr. Salimbene rang a small bell beside his plate. As though she were standing right behind the door, it swung open before the tinkling of the bell stopped.

“Ms. Nugent,” he began, gesturing toward Claudia, “She has taken ill and must leave. If you wouldn’t mind collecting her coat for her,” he finished.

“Certainly,” she said walking past Claudia who then turned to follow her.

Pausing at the door, Claudia looked back at the table. “Good luck. Invite me to the book release party,” she said, attempting a weak smile, referring to Prof Mag’s additional requirement that the ‘winners’ write his biography.

They all smiled to be polite but no one felt like her departure was something to celebrate.

“Mr. Smith,” Mr. Salimbene said, pointing to his plate. “Will you be making an attempt?”

“I….No. I admire you guys, but I cannot bring myself to eat….,” John trailed off. “I’m not leaving. But I’m sticking to the vegetarian fare,” he laughed. “Hell, I might be going completely vegetarian after tonight,” he added.

They all started eating again just as Ms. Nugent walked back into the room. She stopped to clear the two plates left behind by Claudia and Georgiana. As she started for the kitchen, Jonathan abruptly swallowed what was in his mouth in order to blurt out, “Ms. Nugent, if you would so kind and make up a doggy bag for me! I can’t bare to let any of this go to waste!”

Understanding his intent, Jonathan said, “Me as well, please!”

“Well it’s good to see someone knows good food when they see it,” she said with a hint of reproach directed at the two women who had left with such haste as she went back into the kitchen.

“Xipe Totec,” Joaquin said, after finishing another bite of meat.

“Sheep of what?” John asked puzzled.

“Xipe Totec was one of the Aztec gods,” Joaquin answered, before taking another forkful of kidney bean and corn salad. After swallowing, he continued, “The god of regeneration to be specific. He was honored with human sacrifice as many Aztec gods were but in his particular case, the sacrificial victims had their skin flayed which was then draped over statues of the god to represent how he had flayed himself in order to feed the people. It was symbolic of how maíz has to break free of its outer skin to germinate. The meat of the sacrifices was then used to make pozole.”

“Get da hell outta heh,” Jonathan said, his accent coming out again in his surprise. “I’ve had pozole! That’s the stew with hominy in it, right?”

Laughing, Joaquin answered, “The very same. It has its roots in the Náhuatl word potzonalli. And what is hominy other than corn that has been stripped of its outer skin?”

“Well, now I understand completely and unequivocally why you were his favorite,” Mr. Salimbene said with the smallest hint of a smile. “If you recall from the video,” he added, “Jeremy had a pretty clear idea of who would pass his test and who would not. He had absolutely no doubt you would be one of the…emmm, finalists,” he finished.

“If he already knew, then why did he have all of us to this freakshow?” John blurted out, perturbed at being subjected to a far more macabre evening than he had anticipated.

“Witnesses, first and foremost,” Mr. Salimbene said, setting down his fork and taking up his glass of wine. “And because, as he said, he was not completely certain everyone would not find the requirements of the test to be impossible.” He raised his class and tipped it toward Jonathan and Joaquin before taking a drink.

“Ok, I understand Joaquin being selected, but then why me,” Jonathan said, setting his fork and knife down on the plate, which he then pushed ever so slightly away from himself.

“To be perfectly honest,” Mr. Salimbene said, “I think he felt you simply would not back down from a challenge. He knew enough about your history and the challenges you had faced to get where you are, he expected you’d follow through simply because no one would believe you could.”

Jonathan closed his eyes. He could see Prof Mag’s office, books filling every shelf, stacked on the floor, covering the desk. He remembered standing there, a young kid in ill-fitting clothes, completely out-of-place at an elite New England college.

And then he heard Prof Mag’s voice, clear as though he were right in front of him, saying, “Well, what diamond in the rough do we have here?”

Four years later, on commencement day, Pro Mag had put both hands on his shoulders and said, “You polished up nice, kid. You’re sharper and harder than anyone thinks. You’ll be something to reckon with once you believe it yourself.”

Opening his eyes, but blinking several times to clear the tears, Jonathan looked at Joaquin to discover that he was already looking back at him. “Well, Joaquin, do you want to write the forward or shall I?”

Joaquin smiled and said, “I’ll let you have the first crack at it. I have a feeling you already have some thoughts.”

“I do indeed,” Jonathan replied, “I do indeed.”

Epilogue

Although Jonathan’s life changed considerably after the obligations for the inheritance were met, he spent a couple of years attempting to explain this singular extraordinary event that altered the trajectory of his life. It was only after he sat down to write down his recollections about that night that he realized that was his purpose: to be a writer. Having worked tirelessly with Joaquin to complete “A Life Most Extraordinary: Jeremy S. Magdelinskas,” he knew his talent was real. Now he was free to direct it however he wished.

Joaquin, no doubt fulfilling a key desire of Prof Mag’s when he conceived of this bizarre test in the first place, went on to earn a doctorate in anthropology. It surprised none of the others that his PhD thesis was groundbreaking work studying the small and obscure indigenous group who made the bottles filled with the tequila he had had the night of the dinner. A FedEx delivery person arrived with one onyx bottle of Clase Azul Ultra Extra Añejo Tequila at each of their home’s with just a note that read, “To Prof Mag.”

Georgiana spent several years trying to convince herself that what transpired and her response to it didn’t much matter. Almost despite her best efforts to the contrary, she did ultimately decide to enter the teaching profession after getting a master of arts degree in anthropology. At times, in the midst of giving a lecture, or working with a particularly difficult student, she would hear Prof Mag’s voice in her head and smirk a little.

John, more than the others who’d refused the plate, wrestled with, and regretted his decision. While no one else thought to blame Prof Mag for what they did or didn’t do, John tried to hold Prof Mag responsible for every poor decision and bit of bad luck that happened to him after that night. His slow descent into alcoholism almost seemed pre-ordained after that night.

Claudia did her best to push the whole thing out of her mind, as though it hadn’t happened at all. Her efforts to live what she thought would be a normal life, led to a marriage, two children, a comfortable home in the suburbs, and a position as a director of product management in a financial services firm. Every so often, when her husband was away on business and after the kids were asleep, she would pull out the letters Prof Mag had written her and ponder: what if?

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Photo is from page 61 of the Codex Borgia.

For more information on some of the elements in this story, please refer to the following sites used in the research for this story:

You can learn more about the home I visited over 20 years ago that served as the inspiration for this story here: http://loring-greenough.org/

Food and Drink

Human Meat:

Cannibalism: