June 28-July 2, 1970

My second week of student teaching was harder than the first. The 22-year-old certified teacher (to whom I was accountable) told me I would be doing most of the teaching while she sat and observed.

That meant every evening I had to study curriculum materials and prepare lesson plans. Since I didn’t know what I was doing with this new grade level, I had to dig into the seminar textbooks by the hour to figure it all out.

As for Nate’s days, he continued making calls and pounding the pavement seeking a third job, since day-after-day his name was passed over for construction work, and his pots and pans weren’t selling.

The two of us had virtually no time together and were suffering because of it. We did sit together over our simple dinners, but the rest of the time I was either gone or busy. The only recreation was late-night coffee breaks with Cathy and John… and of course fun in the bedroom.

One evening we gave ourselves the luxury of a walk through the neighborhood, taking Baron with us. His funny antics always lifted our spirits.

When we returned to our apartment, though, we discovered we’d locked ourselves out. The only option was to knock on a neighbor’s door and ask to use the phone. Then, after calling the landlord, the 3 of us waited on the front step.

We talked about our sticky situation with Baron being there, and how it could end badly. But I had an idea. “I could take Baron around to the back yard,” I said, “so Mr. Norman won’t see him.”

Nate, with his sterling integrity, responded exactly as I expected. “Better not.”

“But what is he gonna say?”

“Well… let’s just wait and see. Maybe it won’t be a big deal.”

When Mr. Norman finally arrived with his master key, he immediately zeroed in on Baron, perched in Nate’s arms. “Who’s this little fellow?”

Nate introduced them while Baron did his best to radiate puppy-charm. Watching our landlord pat him on the head lit a tiny flame of hope in me. But then he said, “He’s not your dog, is he?”

Nate and I took a quick glance at each other, which of course answered the question. “Well… he can’t stay here. Nothing against him, you understand, but that’s my rule.”

When we didn’t respond, he continued. “I’ll tell you what. You can have through the weekend to figure out what to do. But after that, he needs to be gone.”

Our feet were heavy as we followed Mr. Norman and his key up the stairs. He didn’t chide us for interrupting his evening or threaten to evict us. But as he gave Baron one last pat on the head he said, “By the end of the weekend.” And that was that.

My heart was hurting, but Nate summed it up well. “We knew this would happen eventually. And really, he didn’t even have to let us back in the apartment… with Baron.”

“I suppose,” I said. “And I guess being honest should count for something” – though right then I wished I’d done the dishonest thing and taken him to the back yard.

“The integrity of the upright guides them, but the unfaithful are destroyed by their duplicity.” (Proverbs 11:3)