Hank Hides in the Ceiling Crawlspace and Escapes the Modern Languages Building

William Henry Devereaux Jr.’s flight from the Modern Languages Building turns the aftermath of a department vote into a literal crawl through the consequences of his own predicament. Trapped above the offices after the meeting, he scrambles through a contaminated ceiling space, then uses a deserted corridor, a restroom, and the building’s back stairs to get out. He reaches his car under cover of darkness, but the escape offers no clean exit: Russell is waiting beside it, and the sight and smell of William’s condition make the ordeal immediately visible.

The Vote and the Crawlspace

Half an hour after the vote, William is still in the ceiling, moving on his hands and knees through darkness and heat in search of somewhere to descend. Asbestos-contaminated tiles and insulation separate him from the light and companionship below. He has to reckon with the fact that his friends and enemies alike regard him as out of control, even as he resists that judgment. The contrast is pointed: he is nearly fifty, dressed for his role as chair of a large academic department, and the author of a book reviewed favorably by The New York Times; yet he is stuck above his workplace in urine-soaked trousers, afraid to climb down.

Returning to his office is too risky. His colleagues are moving in and out of the corridor, checking whether he has come back and regrouping around the meeting’s dramatic developments. William compares their agitated circling and shifting alliances to wasps around the hive on Russell and Julie’s deck after Russell sprayed it with Raid. The image makes the department’s post-vote activity resemble a disturbed swarm, while William remains physically trapped above it.

Descent and Escape

When the men’s room is occupied, William descends into the women’s restroom and locks the door to avoid sharing it with people who have a more legitimate claim to the space. Under its bright wall mirror, he sees that his trousers have dried but gathered the crawlspace’s dirt, dust, asbestos fibers, and mouse droppings. His hair is matted with sweat, his clothing is gray with grime, and a candy wrapper clings to his elbow. The mirror turns escape into an encounter with the evidence of where he has been: William recognizes that his appearance is not comic, despite the absurd circumstances.

He waits until the corridor is deserted, then slips from the restroom to his office. There he collects his satchel and the stories for his next day’s workshop before taking the back stairs. The route is cautious and improvised: he does not return to the corridor while colleagues are still passing through it, and he gathers what he needs before leaving the building.

The Parking Lot and Immediate Aftermath

Darkness is falling as William crosses the lawn toward the back lot, grateful for the cover. Only about half a dozen cars remain in the two-acre lot. He notices another car parked beside his Lincoln but dismisses the oddity, too tired to investigate. Seeing no one inside either vehicle from a distance, he gets into his own car and puts the key in the ignition.

The neighboring car rocks, and a head rises into view. William assumes he has interrupted a young couple, an explanation that lets him treat the movement as one more minor puzzle rather than a reason to stop. A horn forces him to look again: the person in the other car is Russell, his son-in-law. William parks, unlocks the passenger door, and Russell climbs in, still stretching and yawning. The smell wakes Russell fully; the dome light then exposes William’s grimy appearance. The escape has carried him out of the building, but not out of view: the man who was trying to avoid his colleagues now has to face a close relative in the unmistakable condition the crawlspace left him.