The Human Stain

'steward'"—he was employed at a level in no way commensurate with his professional training. Mrs. Silk he of course knew from the hospital. In Dr. Fensterman's estimation, there was no finer nurse on the hospital staff, no nurse more intelligent, knowledgeable, reliable, or capable than Mrs. Silk—and that included the nursing supervisor herself. In his estimation, Gladys Silk should long ago have been appointed the head nurse on the medical-surgical floor; one of the promises that Dr. Fensterman wanted to make to the Silks was that he was prepared to do everything he could with the chief of staff to procure that very position for Mrs. Silk upon the retire-ment of Mrs. Noonan, the current medical-surgical head nurse.

Moreover, he was prepared to assist the Silks with an interest-free, nonreturnable "loan" of three thousand dollars, payable in a lump sum when Coleman would be off to college and the family was sure to be incurring additional expenses. And in exchange he asked not so much as they might think. As salutatorian, Coleman would still be the highest-ranking colored student in the 1944 graduating class, not to mention the highest-ranking colored student ever to graduate E. O. With his grade average, Coleman would more than likely be the highest-ranking colored student in the county, even in the state, and his having finished high school as salutatorian rather than as valedictorian would make no difference whatsoever when he enrolled at Howard University. The chances were negligible of his suffering the slightest hardship with a ranking like that. Coleman would lose nothing, while the Silks would have three thousand dollars to put toward the children's college expenses; in addition, with Dr. Fensterman's support and backing, Gladys Silk could very well rise, in just a few years, to become the first colored head nurse on any floor of any hospital in the city of Newark. And from Coleman nothing more was required than his choosing his two weakest subjects and, instead of getting A's on the final exams, getting B's. It would then be up to Bert to get an A in all his subjects-doing that would constitute holding up his end of the bargain. And should Bert let everyone down by not working hard enough to get all those A's, then the two boys would finish in a flat-footed tie—or Coleman could even emerge as valedictorian, and Dr. Fensterman would still make good on his promises. Needless to say, the arrangement would be kept confidential by everyone involved.

So delighted was he by what he heard that Coleman broke loose from Ernestine's grasp and burst away up the street, in exuberant delight running up Central to Evergreen and then back, crying aloud, "My two weakest subjects—which are those?" It was as though in attributing to Coleman an academic weakness, Dr. Fensterman had told the most hilarious joke. "What'd they say, Ern?

What did Dad say?" "I couldn't hear. He said it too low." "What did Mom say?" "I don't know. I couldn't hear Mom either. But what they were saying after the doctor left, I heard that." "Tell me!

What?" "Daddy said, 'I wanted to kill that man.'" "He did?" "Really.

Yes." "And Mom?" "'I just bit my tongue.' That's what Mom said—'I just bit my tongue.'" "But you didn't hear what they said to him?' "No." "Well, I'll tell you one thing—I'm not going to do it." "Of course not," Ernestine said. "But suppose Dad told him I would?"

"Are you crazy, Coleman?" "Ernie, three thousand dollars is more than Dad makes in a whole year. Ernie, three thousand dollars!"

And the thought of Dr. Fensterman handing over to his father a big paper bag stuffed with all that money set him running again, goofily taking the imaginary low hurdles (for successive years now, he had been Essex County high school champ in low hurdles and run second in the hundred-yard dash) up to Evergreen and back.

Another triumph—that's what he was thinking. Yet another record-breaking triumph for the great, the incomparable, the one and only Silky Silk! He was class valedictorian, all right, as well as a track star, but as he was also only seventeen, Dr. Fensterman's proposal meant no more to him than that he was of the greatest importance to just about everyone. The larger picture he didn't get yet.