Frankentown Read Free

would always be living in his father’s shadow.
    His father, Walter T. Cabella also used to be a teacher at the University before him. He taught Archeology, and was the strictest teacher around. A teacher who made many a student cry.
Unlike Frank, he was not an engaging speaker, and regularly put his audience to sleep with his droll, monotone voice, only to be surprise him that most of his students were failing his class. He was known for being a hard-ass, and frankly, even to Frank, he was always a bit of a nazi, figuratively speaking.
    His tests were notoriously difficult and his expectations of the students were unreasonably high. Most people undeclared archeology as their major and were glad to get a passing grade. Several determined students finally broke through each year, all of whom went on to become respected authorities.
    He wasn’t a very good teacher. The few that survived through the hell that were his lectures, had to deal with the dick that he was, and passed his class with an A or a B.            
    His students distinctly disliked him, but couldn’t help feeling respect simultaneously. Walter Cabella was very smart, when he wasn’t being condescending.
    Those who had enough would say:
      “Fuck that guy!”
    Those that survived him would reply:
    “Just don't piss that guy off.”
    Of course, they were right.
    As a kid growing up, Frank had no intent or interest in pursuing archeology.  
    Blatantly ignorant of all truly good things life had to offer; Frank grew, unable to grasp their value through his old man’s darkened view. His dad was a dick, and archeology was just as dreadful, so the thought of it alone failed to ignite even a sliver of excitement in him.
He promised himself he would be the exact opposite of what was left of the memories of his long lost father.
“Rocks, is all it is.” Frank once said to his father.
    “Rocks? I’ll stuff a rock down your throat.:
As he saw it, Walter left Frank without any good qualities.
In a way, it was as though he knew of his father’s disappearance ahead of time.  
    Clairvoyance, however, was not one of his identifying characteristics.

Chapter Two
    Big Head or Passing Bottles

    A couple of months before it would have been about the time to have a mid-life crisis, had he ever gotten married, Frank got a farewell email from the head of biology, a sixty-nine year old Marlon Anthony Alabaster who was finally hanging up the towel and was retiring. Then, mere few days later, he got an email from the Dean about ‘them’ making decisions about who to recommend to take over his duties.
Although it was not done in the traditional way, it was not out of the blue. He was still the second best biology professor on campus and was not easily replaceable, but more importantly, the University was protecting their investment. When word passed around that University would indefinitely suspend research on Marine Biology, Monterey Bay welcomed him with open arms and agreed to sponsor his research by making their proprietary equipment available.   The data collected would have to remain proprietary to Monterey Oceanic Research, subsidiary of ‘NERD’,
the National Ecologic Research & Development, unless tagged with one of the few tags from the University inventory.
    He was being being baited elsewhere.
    With the grant for his main field of research being cut, Frank had to make a choice, which the University has decided to make easier to avoid the loss of one of the best teachers on campus. With the few tags that the University had, they were allowed to tag squid while on Monterey trips to use as a teaching aid. The last of the equipment came from the last grant came in, along with a lead-lined jacket Frank requested months ago as replacement, but started wearing it downtown instead.
    Frank, along with two professors from the university, glorified drinking buddies, Allen and Steve, went out to drink to courage.
He already had tenure, but becoming Head of Biology