The ability to dream was gone, and in its place was a sense of lostness. So much had been lost. So much had been torn away. I longed to see the brook again as a raging river and sail tiny handmade rafts down its rapids. I longed to climb trees and emerge in the Amazon among the howler monkeys and a wild tribe of headhunters. But when I looked around, I could not see those things anymore. They too were gone.
It was with a great sigh of relief that I escaped the house and headed back to Locklear, which now seemed to me a safe haven. Of course, things are never as perfect elsewhere as we remember them to be. I was greeted by stories of twenty-pound turkeys, pumpkin pies, and enormous family gatherings that served as a harsh reminder of my pathetic family. At least I wasn’t the only one who had a miserable break. Charles came back in very low spirits. Apparently, his sub-par mid-term grades had caused his father to explode and berate him for his stupidity and irresponsibility, calling him a disgrace to the family name. The fact that all of this was said in front of his older brothers only made the belittling more painful. He and his father had not spoken the rest of the holiday, while his brothers chided him mercilessly.
We both struggled because of our fathers. His was overbearing and domineering, while mine was apathetic and absent. Both were failures. I felt bad for Charles. There was no way he could live up to his father’s expectations. He would never be like his older brothers, but his father was unable and unwilling to face that fact. My father, on the other hand, had no aspirations for his life or mine, so both Charles and I were rebelling against our fathers, just in opposite directions. This was, indeed, a rather strange predicament, leaving both of us feeling as if we clearly understood one another in our rebellions but thought the other rather odd in his approach to the general matter. Charles, while lacking drive, was far from stupid and could have done rather well for himself had he so fancied, but it was not to be. We both understood that to give in to our fathers was the ultimate defeat, and thus we struggled against them, as young men tend to do.
CHAPTER 15
The Summons
AS EXPECTED, ANOTHER NOTE FROM Dr. Groves arrived in my box, and I once again found myself seated in front of his haughty features in a small chair. He looked down upon me, enjoying his position of power.
“Well, well,” he began, “it seems that you have managed to pass the first half of your semester by the skin of your teeth. Your academic career hangs desperately in the balance.” There was a long pause, as he seemed to delight in my dangerous proximity to possible termination, like a shark when it tastes blood in the water. “But, that is not why you are here today. It has come to my attention from a number of reliable sources that there was recently an unauthorized gathering in the basement of the library. I will not go into any more details, but since you are a student-worker in the library, I wanted to know if you heard of any such event or saw any peculiar behavior.”
“No, sir,” I said. “I didn’t notice anything. As usual, the library has been rather quiet.”
His hands worked back and forth over each other as if he was trying to wash them in an invisible basin. Suddenly, he stopped and stared at me. “I find that is quite surprising, Tom, because the little escapade took place on the very night when you were working, and somehow students were able to enter through the rear of the library through the locked door. There are only three students who have access to that door, you being one of them. So let me repeat my question again. ‘Do you know anything about the unauthorized gathering?’”
He glared down at me like a high inquisitor, as if I were a pathetic little wretch he intended to squeeze until I squealed. “No, sir,” I said, repeating my denial. “I didn’t know of any gathering, and I do not know how they gained access to the library door.”
“That is unfortunate, Tom. I was willing to administer grace if you admitted your guilt, but I can see that you do not intend to cooperate. I will be brief with you. If I hear of your involvement in the previous event—or future events, for that matter—then you need not wait for a C on your final report card to be expelled. I will be watching you even more closely than before. Now be gone.”
I relayed my meeting to the Secret Sevens later that evening. I glanced around, expecting to see glum looks, but instead they were all smiling. “You little rascal, you,” one of the members blurted out. “You went into the dragon’s layer and lied straight to his face and lived to tell about it. He’s notorious for making kids rat. Groves will be on the hunt more than ever now, but that means that we’re irritating him like a stone in his shoe. Oh, he hates knowing that things are going on behind his back that he can’t control. It’ll probably keep him up at night, wondering what we are planning next. We certainly can’t disappoint him.”
Someone else piped up. “I say we flaunt it in his face since he knows about it now. Let’s make a banner inviting people to the next Secret Sevens dance. We’ll just have to find a different location.”
Patrick took over from there. “Excellent. So our first order of business is...” He ended in an excited crescendo. “I like where this is heading, gentlemen. No guts, no glory.”
It was 3:00 a.m. two nights later and brutally cold. Wind whipped all about us as we stood on top of the roof, bundled head to toe. Four stories up, we unraveled a giant sign welcoming students to the next Secret Sevens dance. We lowered it over the side of the building with long ropes until it hung just above Dr. Groves’ office. We tied the ropes to large cinder blocks and placed a new padlock on the trap door to the roof to make sure it would take a while before maintenance could get to the sign. This was just one of three large signs placed around campus to ensure that Dr. Groves got the message. We were not scared of him. The thought of him squirming with discontent when he saw the sign made me smile.
Dr. Groves was not seen at all the following day. I imagined he was hiding inside somewhere, seething over the open insubordination of his students. We all knew it was war. Groves tripled the evening security on campus, making it much more difficult for us to navigate around, especially as a group, so we decided the best place for the dance was on the girl’s side of campus. It seemed he had overlooked that possibility.
We needed a girl to be our contact person. While there was a good deal of debate over whom we should choose, eventually we settled on Julia Stine. She was a sophomore, and everyone seemed to know her except for me. From some of the comments made, I figured she must be a looker. Had we been able to meet in person to discuss plans, things would have progressed much faster. But for the sake of anonymity, we were forced to correspond only through letters. Julia was eager to help and recommended that we use the basement of the freshman girls’ dorm. The head resident director was rather old and hard of hearing. She went to bed at precisely 9:00 p.m. every night, snored like a banshee, and was impossible to wake. The basement was used only in case of tornado warnings and was in need of some serious cleaning. We left it up to Julia to find a crew of helpers, and she assured us things would be ready. Three weeks after the banners went up, all was set. By the day of the event, we had spread the news by word-of-mouth channels, hoping to avoid being discovered by Groves and his known spies.
As an extra precaution, I was to be a decoy. Shortly after locking up the library, I passed the campus guard, who usually walked by on his rounds at about that time. Upon seeing him, I bolted in the other direction as if caught in an act of indiscretion, and, as expected, he spoke hurriedly into his walkie-talkie and then took off after me. By this time, I knew every inch of the campus; the security guard never had a chance to catch me. I continued to lure him away toward the lake and the dock house. We had set up lights in the windows and a record player that could be heard from a short way off. Once the guard was within a couple hundred yards of the dock house, I doubled back to make it look like I’d headed for the dock house. If he heard the music, we assumed he would contact Dr. Groves immediately. He would most assuredly want to be there to spot the perpetrators personally when the party was broken up.
<
br /> CHAPTER 16
Baby Steps
HOPING FOR THE BEST, I made my way to the girls’ side of campus. It was obvious that students were being more cautious this time because I saw only a few here and there, and they all pretended to be going down to the town. I tried to look as inconspicuous as possible until I finally made it to the storm door, which was propped open ever so slightly by a small stone. I heard a few faint notes of music coming through the crack, but it was barely noticeable. I slipped in and made my way down the stairs, following the music in the darkness. The stairs were cold, but as soon as I entered the main room, I felt the heat of a hundred bodies encircle me and pull me in. I was late to the party. The room was already filled to overflowing. The women had been hard at work. The floor looked freshly scrubbed, and the walls were decorated with streamers and lined with metal folding chairs.
This time there was a much more even number of girls and boys, which boded well for me. Taking up my normal stance, I sat back and watched, but this time I was determined to have at least one dance.
Since my talk with Dr. Emory, I had decided to make some changes. The first move I made was to recruit Charles as my dance instructor. It’s difficult to explain exactly what happened during those sessions because the entire experience was rather surreal, but I will do my best to recount them for you.
Charles, of course, was very eager to help me with my dancing as long as I was willing to write a few papers for him. It was indeed a mutually beneficial exchange. Our first lesson took place in one of the unused lecture halls. There, standing on the slick marble floor, I proceeded to slip about in a most uncoordinated and non-rhythmic fashion. At first, nearly every attempt of mine made Charles burst out laughing, which would get me laughing, and before we knew it, we’d both be in stitches. The whole thing was exceedingly comical. My stupid, clumsy feet just refused to do what they were told to do, and I couldn’t stop myself from counting out loud to keep in step with the beat. I moved like a machine, all rigid and stiff, while Charles bounced and bobbed about, pleading for me to relax and bend, but my body refused.
I practiced with Charles as my partner, and of course he would make the most ridiculous faces he could at me and bat his eyes in an attempt to throw me off, but most of the time I was too busy in my own world of counting beats and shuffling feet to even notice. This just inspired him to be more theatrical, which led to more laughter. He argued that I needed to get used to being nervous and distracted, because those were the most natural feelings one had when first dancing with a girl. He was teaching me not to crack under pressure—or so he swore, at least.
Slowly, I began to catch on, but my knees still refused to bend like Charles’ did, and my hands were never quite as graceful and also seemed to sweat profusely. We both agreed that I’d been born with two left feet and a lousy ear for music, which meant my prospects of becoming even so much as a decent dancer were rather slim. Instead, the goal was simply to avoid embarrassing myself. So finally, after one last cram session, Charles declared that he had done all he could—I was ready!
Meanwhile, back at the dance, where I stood scanning the crowd, a blond bombshell caught my eye as she danced with a handsome-looking fellow. She had stunning blue sapphire eyes and luscious lips of rich red. You couldn’t miss her firm, rounded shape or those curvy legs that disappeared under a lacy red poodle skirt. She was the one I wanted to dance with—the forbidden apple of Eden. The more I watched her, the more beautiful she became. I followed her every move, feeling my nervous heart beat faster and faster. Everything else was a blur, a kaleidoscope of colors and faces playing in the background. The gods had taken human form, and here she was in all her splendor. She passed from one man to the next as I stared unabashedly at her every movement. Midway through the evening, Charles broke my trance with a firm thump on the shoulder.
“Well, Tom, a lot of good all our practicing has done you so far. You haven’t moved since the moment you got here! Come on, be a man and ask someone to dance.”
“I can’t, Charles.”
“Why?”
“Because the only one I want to dance with is her,” and I pointed to the blonde.
Charles whistled. “Oh boy, you do know how to pick ’em. That is Julia Stine, the most eligible bachelorette at Locklear University. I’d recommend you start by asking someone a little less intimidating to get your feet wet, but I commend you on your good taste.”
“No, Charles, she is the one.”
“Really, Tom, be reasonable.”
“It’s her or nothing.”
“Oh, wow. Look at you, Tom. I’ve never seen you like this. You are smitten.”
I nodded my head in agreement without taking my eyes off her.
“Looks like there’s no changing your mind now, so as your dance instructor, let me see what I can do.” He grinned that devilish grin of his and, grabbing a random partner, made his way onto the dance floor. He worked his way next to Julia and as soon as the song ended, he snatched her up. I could see him talking between twirls and spins and loops. As the song ended, he motioned for me to come over.
My legs turned to lead. Petrified, I wanted to run, but I knew that I had to do this. Awkwardly, I bumbled over toward them, bumping into couples who happened to get in my way. And then all of a sudden, I was there, standing in front of her. Charles ducked out quietly. There was no turning back now. This was my chance. To this day, I have no idea what song was playing or how long we stood there. I eventually reached out my hand and took hers. “Hi,” I managed to stammer. “My name is Tom. Would you like to dance?”
She smiled at me encouragingly. “I would love to,” she responded as she reached out and took my other hand. We began to dance slowly. I could feel the sweat running down my back and my sides. My legs felt shaky, and my feet were cement blocks with a mind of their own.
“Step, Step, rock step,” I said to myself. “Step, step, rock step.” I began to find my rhythm and smiled. I did a simple spin move and then back to the basic step, step, rock step. I was doing it! I cold barely believe it. I made eye contact with Julia and smiled again, unsure of what to say. “Step, step, rock step. Turn, turn, turn.” The song was winding down. I had to say something. “Thank you for dancing with me. This is my first time.”
She smiled at me again. “I know. Charles told me.”
“He did, did he?” Oh man, I promised myself I was going to strangle the little weasel when I got to him.
“Yes, but you’re doing very well for your first time. Dancing takes a lot of courage.”
“Well, thank you, but we can both be honest. I’m a hopeless dancer.”
We laughed together. “You’re not hopeless,” she said. “You just need a little practice.”
Then I heard myself speaking words before I knew what I was saying. Foolish irrational words, but love will do that to you. “Maybe you could help me with that sometime?”
She laughed. “You’re cute, Tom. We’ll just have to see.” She had a twinkle in her eye, and just like that, someone slipped in and took her from me as the next song started up.
Somehow, I managed to escape out of the dancing throng and find a seat. I had just asked out Julia Stine, and she didn’t turn me down. She said I was cute. Cute. Me! In my old sports blazer and shabby pants with my pathetic dancing. I couldn’t believe it. Of course, she hadn’t said “yes.” But “maybe” was better than “no.” I just sat there stunned.
Charles popped over and grabbed a vacant chair. “Ha-ha, you did it, old boy. I knew you had it in you. Okay, that’s not entirely true. I’m not sure if I was more nervous or you. There were a couple of moments where I was afraid you would lose it all together, but you pulled through. What did you think?”
“Before I answer any questions,” I shot back, “what did you tell Julia before while you were dancing?”
Charles looked at me sheepishly. “Not too much, really. I just sort of told her that you were my roommate and that it was your first time and all. That�
��s it.”
“Are you sure that’s all you said?”
“Well, I might have mentioned that you thought she was pretty or something along those lines.”
I groaned. “No, you didn’t, Charles. Please tell me you didn’t say that.”
“Well, what did you want me to say? I had to bloody well say something.”
“I can’t believe you told her I thought she was pretty.”
“I bet you didn’t darn well tell her yourself, did you? Wait! No need to answer. I can see by the look on your face that you didn’t. Don’t be mad at me. You owe me a big ‘thank you’ more than anything.” There was a long pause.
“You’re right, Charles. I do. I guess she probably knows that all the boys who want to dance with her think she’s pretty. She certainly is a looker.”
“Yes sir, she is a sight for sore eyes. And it’s sad, but I’m afraid she’s out of your league. I might have a chance with her and those big lips, though.”
I swatted at him. “Fat chance you and your little smirk will get with her.”
“Never underestimate the power of a good dancer and devilishly handsome looks, Tom. I could make the ice queen herself fall in love with me if I wanted.”
“Oh yeah? Well try this on for size, Mr. Fleet Feet: I asked Julia Stine out on a date and she said ‘maybe.’” I knew that my statement wasn’t entirely true, but it was close enough.
Finding Tom Page 9