A dark caption.

Brenda Baker, thirty-nine, looked in the office of one of her daughter's professor's a Dr. Armitage. He didn't seem to be around and as she turned, she nearly bumped into him coming to enter his office.

"I thought I locked that." He quipped, annoyed she was looking in.

"You didn't, and it was open when I got here." She pointed out, her country midwestern accent immediately obvious. "I do have some manners."

"I see." He said. He doubted that, but that was neither her nor there at the moment. "Can I help you with something?"

"Yes, do you have a moment, professor?" She asked.

"Are you a student?" He asked. She sure wasn't faculty, that was damn sure.

"No, a parent of a student."

He sighed. This was some high school parenting nonsense, but every so often it did seem to find it's way to the university level... he bid her to enter and he sat down in his chair. She sat in a chair, her posture relaxed and informal.

"I'm not going to waste your time." She started.

You already are, he thought but didn't say.

"But my daughter seems to be having some issues with your class. Your introduction to neurology?"

"What's her name?"

"Susan Baker."

"That isn't a small class, but I think I know who you're talking about. Taller, also wears cowboy boots?"

"That's her." She said. "She tells me she's failing."

"It happens. Look, she's a sophomore and at this level we're in the weed-out classes. This is one of them. I'd tell her to give it her best shot, and if she fails either retake it, which happens for a great many students, or decide if she wants to pursue another major. This is pretty normal."

"Maybe for you, but not for her. Look, is there anything we can do? Or anything I can do to get her to pass this?"

"Aside from helping her study? No, not really. Nothing comes to mind."

"You sure? Nothing at all?"

At that, Dr. Armitage's eyes narrowed. No, she wouldn't, would she?

"Anything?"

"Professor, I'd do anything to help my daughter in school. Anything."

"Well, I do have an idea then if you want..."

Twenty-one year old Susan Baker walked up to one of the offices on the upper floors of the medical building. It was where all of the deans and other higher-ups had offices, and she had only ever been up here once. She had gotten a text from her mom, telling her to meet her up there.

She smiled as she walked down the hallway. She must have been able to make a deal with the professor. She had been against the idea of her mom intervening, telling her it was no big deal and that these things did happen but her mom, who had never been to college, could not understand that it was a very different beast from high school. Well, maybe that stubbornness paid off.

She rounded a corner and was still looking at her phone when she turned a final corner and looked up. She dropped her phone, her hands shaking, her face a mask of terror.

That was her mom's body, she had seen her mom wear that same outfit a ton of times, but above her neck where her mom's familiar head should be was the head of her professor! Her hands shook as she bent down to pick up her phone, her knees weak.

Her professor looked at her and smiled, putting her mom's hand against his middle-aged male cheek.

"So, your mom agreed to my proposal. Too bad she couldn't or didn't understand the jargon, but she did agree. Don't worry, you'll be able to visit her in the lab, that machine will do a fine job of keeping her head alive. As for you, you'll pass this class and I agreed to take you on and tutor you personally. How's that for university help? As for me, maybe I should teach my next class dressed like this? I do kind of look like the farmer's sexy wife, so maybe that might be a bit distracting."

She couldn't speak. All she could do was just stare, believing but not wanting to.

"Nothing much to say? Nothing for you dear mother's sacrifice for you? At the very least you could tell me, what would a good country woman wear more formally, because I need new clothes and I doubt you'd be so kind as to get hers for me!"