Continued

She was close, recalled Dani, the closest one ever to it, to me, whatever that THAT is.  She kicked through the leaves, reminiscing.  Two years ago, it was.  

She had long since toned down the flashy outrageousness that swirled around her at UCLA, the rock-star energy, the million-plus dollar unrestricted grant which bought her the undying hatred of all her faculty colleagues; there were the one who insisted that she had f*cked and blown her way to stardom.

It was a concession to honesty, not to outrageousness, that  she left the word "whore" on her resume, as it was true and consistent with her meteoric rise as a porn star, a porn director, and now, a professor of the film industry, the blue and the not-blue.

She was secretly hurt every time she tried to take a step and was scoffed at.  Imagine a porn-star having directorial ambitions; or a porn director, a claim to the real film industry?  Especially in the rootless, classless whirlwind that was LA - the Industry, where genuineness and hard work were mere wall-hangings.  Can you fake sincerity?  Can you look like you are qualified?  That's the sleazy stuff, in the 'legit world as much as the porn.  At least porn is honest - f*cking is f*cking, and the challenge is to make Something New out of this billion-year-old pastime.

She wore a long grey dress today and flats; no accessories or adornment; and she was Professor Rosenbaum to any and all when she was teaching.  The atmosphere she created in her classes was one of earnestness and respect; no nonsense.  A natural Jesuit for a Jew, it was said, and she took it as a compliment.

She had brought her grant from UCLA to USC, and then to LMU.  Her management of the grant was solitary and impeccable.  No luxuries or frills; no base and self-serving 'perks.'  Her office was nicely furnished, in dark oak and leather, a bit masculine but definitely solid, like a Victorian drawing-room.  

At her massive and imposing desk, at her left shoulder, invariably hung a locked wooden box, a meter high and a half-meter wide, of soot-darkened wood.  It first appeared over her desk at USC; and now, had come up the hill to LMU.  The Chorus of the Rude and Ignorant supposed it to contain sex-toys, or whips, or anything the empty greedy mind can put in a box.

It was never opened in public.  Dani would not answer to anyone what it contained.  It was not a topic for discussion.