I try not to think about Juliette Kaczmarek.

I try not to think about how her friends called her Jules or that she was from Pittsburgh just a few hours' drive away.

I try not to think about her passion for music, which she was pursuing for the fourth year at Packard or her sorority sisters who've been searching for her since they realized that she hadn't just gone home for the weekend.

But most of all, I try not to think about whether I had anything to do with her disappearance.

I find myself distracted while taking roll, wondering if any of the names I call are for students who may know the missing girl. But as I get deeper into explaining the course content and my expectations for the semester, my focus shifts to one of my favorite subjects.

"Since you've all taken the intro prerequisite for this class, you all know that anthropology is the study of how biology and culture affect the decisions and actions of human society, right?" I ask, looking at a sea of blank faces in the lecture hall. After getting a few nods and a couple of grunts I'm going to assume are affirmative, I continue. "Okay, good. So in this context, what do you think I'm referring to with regards to oral traditions?"

Crickets.

My chest tightens. Non-participation is my worst fear in this situation. Well, a lewd answer might be a bit worse, but it's close.

I get it. No one wants to say the wrong thing. They don't want to be the first or stick out in any way, either. But if I'm going to be the only one speaking for the next sixteen weeks, that'll be disastrous.

"Can anyone give an example of what might be a type of oral tradition?" I prompt, scanning the room for someone who looks like they might have an answer. Most of the kids glance down when I meet their eyes, but eventually I find a girl who doesn't.

"You," I say, pointing to her in the second row since I haven't been able to put the names with the faces. "What do you think?"

"Uhm," she mumbles while biting her lip. "Prayers?"

I suck in a big breath. Hallelujah!

"Yes," I say with a smile as the girl's expression also relaxes. "Prayers that are verbally shared and passed down from one person to another are a big part of oral traditions. What else?"

I look around the room and see a few timid hands raised.

"Go ahead," I say to a young man in the back.

"Songs, maybe?" he says as the others quickly drop their hands.

"Definitely!" I exclaim, hoping that they didn't just run out of steam. "Any more ideas?"

"Poems," someone from the back yells.

"What about stories?" asks another student.

I smile, relieved by their increased enthusiasm. "Stories count, of course. Can we be more specific about what type of stories may be included within oral traditions?"

There's a brief lull as they consider the question and then the rapid-fire answers begin.

"History. . . . Legends. . . . Fairy tales. . . . Superstitions?" Some are more confident than others, but I couldn't be more pleased.

"Yes. Perfect! Those are all great examples and are in fact collectively known as folklore," I say, moving back to the lectern where I scroll to the first slide in my presentation, which happens to show that word. "Hopefully folklore is a term that in the very least my fellow Swifties are familiar with," I joke before realizing that I probably sound like I'm trying too hard. Clearing my throat in embarrassment, I continue.

I click to the next slide featuring a list that's very similar to the one that my students just yelled out.

"Many of these stories are meant to warn of dangers or follies through superstition, while others like fables are told to emphasize values held by a community like perseverance and patience," I say, glancing up at the now fully engaged expressions looking back at me.

I've got them hooked, so I continue.

"Folklore was often used in the past to explain concepts that couldn't be understood with the contemporary level of scientific knowledge and is how stories of vampires and zombies likely evolved. At other times, it was weaponized against minorities or unliked members of society the way tales of witchcraft led to the persecution of many healers or simple outcasts throughout the centuries."

A hand shoots up.

"Yes?" I call on the girl in the back row.

"Like with the Salem witch trials?" she asks.

I nod. "Exactly. Or the Dominican inquisitions of 13th century France, the 15th century publication of the Malleus Maleficarum in what is now present day Germany, or even the lynching of thousands in Tanzania in the early 2000s."

A collective gasp rings through the room at this last fact, but I go on.

"Now much of these oral traditions or folklore share common themes, tropes and often even characters. Can you think of any of these that are featured in more than one legend, superstition or fairy tale? I'll start first with the number 3, which derives from the Christian concept of the Trinity. You'll often see this as three daughters or three wishes. What else? Just go ahead and shout out your thoughts and I'll write them down. Don't worry about any order or logic. We'll categorize them later."

I write "3" on the whiteboard in red erasable marker and turn back towards the class.

"Young girls?" suggests someone with a deep voice and the disconnect makes the others laugh.

"Very good," I say, trying to minimize the student's embarrassment. "Folklore often features young women as the main character, likely as the protagonist."

I write the answer on the board under the three. Before I can turn around, another answer is shouted out.

"Princes."

"Excellent," I say, writing 'royalty' on the board. "Princess and princesses, kings and queens. Being in the ruling or noble class was often depicted as aspirational in folklore, although they also featured heavily as the bad guys, too. What else?"

"Fountain of youth!"

"Ooh, I like it. But let me be a bit more general and put immortality on the list, all right?" I ask, glancing over my shoulder. Not getting any objections, I begin to write as I explain. "This is an important category as it encompasses so much: from physical immortality bestowed by objects like the Holy Grail to spiritual immortality after mortal death in places like Valhalla."

"Demons or the devil, I suppose," comes another answer.

I nod and write it on the board.

"What about wolves?"

My hand stalls on the last letter. Finishing the 'L,' I turn.

"Do you want to generalize that in terms of just realistic predators? Maybe it would be worthwhile to think of them as a combined group with lions, foxes and bears," I suggest, curious as to how the student will justify her answer.

As expected, she shakes her head. "No. Just wolves. I mean, they're in so many fairy tales even without the shifter aspect."

"Right," says the boy next to her. "The three little pigs, little red riding hood--"

"Boy who cried wolf," interrupts a girl from the other side of the room.

"Wolf in sheep's clothing," says someone else.

"Oh, wow. The 'big bad wolf' is right," says another young man and the class laughs again, but I hold up the marker to get their attention.

"Not necessarily," I say with a smirk. "Ever hear of Romulus and Remus?"

"Are they from Harry Potter?" someone asks to another roar of laughs.

I shake my head. "Think two millennia earlier," I say. "They're the feral twin brothers suckled by a she-wolf who ended up founding the city of Rome. Dacians and Turkic peoples also have origin tales related to wolves, while the animal also features heavily in Nordic, Greek and Indian theology. One could argue that no other single creature—whether real or fantasy—takes on as many roles within Western folklore."

We spend the rest of the class discussing alternatives, but not even dragons, fairies or stags fit the bill. At the end of the hour and fifteen minute seminar, I leave the classroom feeling a lot lighter than when I entered it. I'm so pumped that I'm even planning on hitting the university fitness center after running home to change, but as my rental house comes into view, I come to a sudden standstill.

This morning, I had left my car parked curbside. There was no other choice since it still won't start and the mechanic couldn't take it until Friday. And while there is a similar make, model and even color parked in the same spot now, its spotless paint job and un-dented fender make it obvious that this one is a brand new version.

My will to spend the next hour on a treadmill evaporates as my heart rate shoots up. There is only one person that I can think of who'd have both the nerve and the finances to replaces my car, unasked and unprompted.

"Clayton Ward, I'm going to kill you," I mutter under my breath as I imagine giving him a piece of my mind for this.