the Introduction from
'The Complete Short
 Works of Daniel Pagoda

Professor Mark was a short, desperately friendly woman with a tendency to wring her hands everywhere she went in class. To her credit, she was always trying to get to know us better. Two weeks into her course, she had decided the best way to get to know us was to assign short story assignments. I happily turned in my latest revision of “The Face” and awaited her comments.

I had almost forgotten about that story as well when, one morning, she returned our graded stories. I didn’t receive mine.

She stood up in front of the class with a packet of papers, stopped wringing her hands long enough to give a cheery clap, and announced that she had good news.

“One of your classmates has written an absolutely stunning piece of work,” she said. “In fact, I consider this young author’s work so well-done that I’ve made a special recommendation on his behalf to the creative writing scholarship contest. I may be jumping the gun, but I think Daniel’s got it in the bag.”

She emerged next to me, grinning. Her hands strangled a copy of “Swindled.”

“Mister Harper, editor of the campus literary magazine, liked Daniel’s story so much he sent me a copy,” she continued. “I fell instantly in love. It’s very much a throwback to the modern realists of the early twentieth century. The use of metaphor is phenomenal, almost professional. Daniel’s other story,” she said, turning to the rest of the class, “The one he handed in for class, wasn’t enough to really stir my waters, but this is wonderful. You just may have a fine career ahead of you, Daniel.”

I nodded dumbly. Professor Mark handed me my story and offered a few closing congratulatory remarks. She advised the class to open our textbooks and prepare to discuss our assigned readings.
“Mister Pagoda,” she said, “Perhaps you’d allow us a look inside your literary insights and tell us what you thought of the text you were supposed to have read.”

To this day, I cannot remember what I responded with, but whatever it was, the entire class burst into laughter. It took all of them, including Professor Mark, considerable time to calm down.

I didn’t laugh. I wanted no credit for something I didn’t consciously craft.