B00A1ID5X0 EBOK

by Heldt, John A.

  Michelle remembered the career fair from her first run through 1980 not for what it offered but for what it didn't. Though three media organizations had set up shop on the basketball court, publishers were noticeably absent. She watched with great interest as history repeated itself in real time. Shelly Preston marched into the gym, talked to a woman pushing careers in public education, and quickly left.

  April Burke entered the chamber a moment later. She stopped at a table sponsored by a local savings and loan but seemed less interested in its brochures and free pencils than the handsome man in his early twenties manning the station. When he inevitably turned his attention to others, she headed for the door.

  Brian Johnson hung around longer. He went from table to table and collected a handful of cards and brochures and more than a few freebies. When he completed the circuit, he headed for the stands and sat down with his haul. He sat in a spot ten feet away and two bleachers down from Michelle but seemed oblivious to her presence.

  "It looks like you cleaned the place out," Michelle said.

  Brian looked up and smiled.

  "Hi, Miss Jennings. Yeah, I guess I grabbed my share."

  "Do you mind if I look at a few?"

  "Not at all."

  Michelle stepped over the bleachers and sat next to the boy whose interests apparently included everything from computers and banking to the Army and the Marines. She picked up two brochures, looked them over, and placed them on top of a stack at Brian's side.

  "This is quite a collection. I didn't realize you were considering a career in the military."

  "I'm thinking about it," Brian said.

  "What about college?"

  "I'll go. I'm just not sure I want to go right away. I can't afford it, for one thing."

  "There is something called financial aid, Brian."

  "I know. I mailed the forms last week. My dad is pushing college. He went to Oregon State and wants me to do the same. But he went on a scholarship. If I go, I'll have to take out some loans. I don't want to run up a lot of debt before I figure out what I want to do. If I join the Army or the Marines, I can at least save some money for school."

  "That's smart. I can relate to that," Michelle said. "It took me five years to pay off my college debt, even with help from my husband, and I went to a state school. But is joining the military really what you want to do?"

  "I don't know. I'm going to think about it over the summer. If I still need the money, I'll join. If I don't, I probably won't. But part of me wants to do it anyway just to prove myself."

  "What do you mean by 'prove yourself'?"

  "I mean prove myself physically. I'm tired of being a nerd. Girls don't go out with geeks, not in this town anyway. The only girls who talk to me anymore are Shelly and April and that's probably because they feel sorry for me. It gets old after a while, you know."

  Michelle cringed when she heard the words. She had forgotten how tough high school could be for boys who didn't measure up to the Scott Richardsons of the world.

  "I know. But if you are going to join the Army or the Marines, don't you think you should do it for the right reasons? You're selling yourself short, Brian. You have a lot to offer. You'll find the right girl someday. I'm sure of it. Patience does wonders."

  "I've tried patience for eighteen years, Miss Jennings."

  Brian stared blankly at the career fair before turning to face Michelle.

  "I'm ready to try something else."

  CHAPTER 38: SHELLY

  Thursday, February 14, 1980

  Shelly looked at the letters and thought of a Clint Eastwood movie she had seen on TV the previous week: The Good, the Bad and the Ugly. The title of the flick summed up not only the mail on the table but also her life.

  The good letter informed her that she had won one scholarship worth a thousand dollars. The bad letter informed her that she had been denied another worth five times more. The ugly letter was a notice from the city that property taxes were increasing forty percent.

  "I'm sorry, honey," Evelyn Preston said. "I know how much this means to you."

  "It's so unfair."

  Shelly glanced at each of the people around her dining room table and evaluated their reactions to the distressing news. Her mother appeared genuinely disappointed but also relieved. She had expressed doubts from the beginning about the family's ability to pay for an Ivy League education. Fred Preston wore the expression of a broken man. He had been his daughter's biggest cheerleader and seemed to consider his inability to fund her dream as his greatest failure. Scott Richardson, however, seemed anything but broken. Though he had frowned and shaken his head at appropriate times, he was the first to find a silver lining.

  "You can still take creative writing classes in Eugene and maybe even Corvallis," he said.

  "I don't want to go to school there, Scott. I want to go to Yale."

  "The money's not there to do that," Evelyn said. "We've been over this."

  "What if I take out some loans?" Shelly asked. "I'm sure my financial aid package will include some student loans and, if it doesn't, I can go to a bank."

  "You're still looking at twenty thousand dollars of debt when you get out, Shelly," Evelyn said. "Even if you could get the loans, how would you pay them back? Writers don't make much unless they're very successful. You don't want to start life as a college graduate in a huge financial hole."

  Shelly glared at her mother. She knew she was right, but she didn't care to hear her position stated so forcefully. Evelyn's pessimism wasn't helping her find a Plan B.

  "Maybe we can mortgage the house," Fred said. "There has to be a way."

  "If we mortgage the house, what are we going to do in retirement?" Evelyn asked. "I just don't see how we can do this, Fred. We've got to look at the numbers honestly."

  "I'll get a job. I'll sell my car. I don't care. I want to make this happen," Shelly said.

  "What's wrong with the state schools?" Evelyn asked. "They were good enough for your sister and your brothers. You've already been accepted at Oregon and OSU. There's no reason you can't go to either place and accomplish your goals."

  "It's not the same, Mom. How many times do I have to say that?"

  Shelly slapped the bad scholarship letter to the table.

  "I need some air."

  Shelly got up from her chair, grabbed her jacket, and stormed into the night. She felt guilty about dumping on Evelyn. She knew her mother sincerely wanted the best for her. But she was tired of reason. She wanted her dream.

  She paced up and down her brightly lighted driveway for nearly a minute when she heard the front door open and saw Scott emerge from the house. He zipped his coat and walked slowly her way with an envelope in his hand. When he reached her, he held it out.

  "I know the timing sucks, but I wanted to give you this. Happy Valentine's Day."

  Shelly took the card and opened it. Cupid was on the front with a quiver of arrows. She smiled slightly when she read the message and kissed Scott lightly on the lips.

  "Thank you. I have a card for you in the house. Let me get it."

  Scott grabbed Shelly's arm.

  "No. Stay here. The card can wait. You can give it to me tomorrow or next week. I don't care. I just want to make sure you're all right."

  "I'm fine. It's my future that's a wreck."

  "Don't you think you're being a little melodramatic?"

  "No. I do not. This is a big deal, Scott, a very big deal. Do you know how lucky I was to even be accepted? There are more qualified people in our senior class. There are more qualified people on this street. This was my chance to get out of Unionville and do something big. I don't want to settle – not if I don't have to."

  "Who's settling? So you stay in state. You can still write. You can still do big things. We can both do big things," he said. "OSU is not so bad."

  "What makes you think I would go to Corvallis? I got into Oregon, too, and there are more opportunities there for liberal arts majors."

  "W
hy wouldn't you go to Corvallis? Unless the real reason you wanted to go back East was to get away from me. Is that what this is about?"

  "No, Scott, that's not what it's all about. Believe it our not, I really am driven by academics. But since you raised the subject, what's the problem with Eugene? It is forty freaking miles away. We could still see each other on weekends. Is that not good enough? Or do you have to have me under your watch twenty-four hours a day?"

  "Shelly, calm down. I'm not saying you can't go to Oregon. I'm saying I'd rather see you go to Oregon State."

  "Well, I'm really glad you're not telling me I can't go to Oregon. I'd hate to think what I'd do if you put your foot down."

  "Shelly, be reasonable."

  "I'm tired of being reasonable, Scott! I'm tired of people telling me what I can or can't do. It's my life. I have a say in it too."

  "Shelly . . ."

  "No, Scott. Don't say a thing. Not another word."

  Shelly glared at him and held up a hand.

  "I can't talk anymore."

  She stepped toward the door.

  "Good night."

  CHAPTER 39: SHELLY

  Monday, February 18, 1980

  Shelly had never thought of the attendance office as a place to escape her troubles, but she did as she walked toward the tiny chamber on her lunch break. She had not seen Michelle Jennings in several days and was eager to reconnect with someone who created joy in her life and not consternation.

  "I've been bad," she said as she approached the window with a sheepish grin. "I'm sorry I haven't taken the time to see you lately."

  "That's quite all right, Shelly. You have a life and I don't," Michelle said.

  Shelly wagged a finger.

  "Now, that's not true. Not anymore. I'm so happy for you."

  "Thank you. I'm happy for me too."

  Shelly laughed.

  "So are you still getting married in April?"

  "That's the plan," Michelle said as she pushed some papers to the side and gave Shelly her undivided attention. "Robert wants his daughters to be there. I want you to be there too."

  "You can count on it, particularly if it gets me out of school for a day."

  "I can't help you with that. April 12 is a Saturday. But if you're ever in a pinch, you know where to come to fix your tickets."

  Shelly chuckled. The woman had an elephant's memory.

  "You don't forget a thing."

  "No, I do not."

  Shelly glanced at a clock on the wall behind Michelle and saw she still had ten minutes before the next bell. She wished she had more. She never tired of these discussions.

  "Are you planning to get married in the church?"

  "Yes. But it will be a small affair, maybe a dozen or so people."

  "What about a honeymoon?"

  "It looks like Hawaii in June."

  "Take me with you. I promise to be good."

  Michelle smiled.

  "I'll throw it past Robert, but I wouldn't pack your bags just yet."

  Another student approached the office window and handed Michelle a note and a sob story about missing third period. She signed the slip and sent the boy on his way.

  "Speaking of packing bags, are you getting ready for Yale?"

  "That's looking pretty iffy right now. I didn't get the big scholarship and now I have to find at least five thousand dollars a year to go."

  "Didn't you get any other financial aid?"

  "I got a thousand-dollar scholarship and a grant, but they won't get me even halfway there. If I want to go to Yale, I'm going to have to go into serious debt."

  "What do your folks think?"

  "Dad wants to help but can't. Mom wants to help but won't. She sees nothing wrong with Oregon and Oregon State. If they're good enough for my siblings and half the senior class, then they are good enough for Shelly Preston."

  "What do you think?"

  "I think I'm screwed. I want to go to Yale. I go crazy just thinking about it. Every time I see my acceptance letter I see a brass ring. I see a chance to get out of this Podunk town and get a world-class education. But my mom has a point. Twenty thousand is serious change. I don't have that kind of money, and I'm not sure I want to go into debt. Thankfully, I've got several more weeks to think about it. I'm going to take every day."

  "You do that."

  Shelly started to bring up another topic when she glanced to her right and saw Nick Bender lean against the wall a few feet away. He wore the patient smile of a man who wasn't planning to leave until he had received his audience. Shelly returned to Michelle.

  "Can we talk after school?"

  "I'd like that. I should probably get back to work anyway."

  "OK. I'll see you then."

  "Bye."

  Shelly waved at Michelle and then drifted over to the patient Mr. Bender, who wore the same shirt and pants he had worn to the "Welcome to the Eighties" dance. A loosened tie hung around his neck. She had spoken to him only twice since that night but didn't need Johnny Carson's Carnac the Magnificent to know what he wanted.

  "Hi, Nick. Did you dress up just for me?"

  "If I said yes, would you believe me?"

  "No."

  Nick laughed.

  "OK. I'll fess up. Today is retake day for senior pictures."

  "That's right. You still look nice."

  "Thanks. But I didn't come here to fish for compliments. I came here to ask you out."

  "I'm flattered, Nick, but we've been over this. You know I'm still dating Scott."

  "I also know you had another fight last week. Look, Shelly, all I want is one date. It doesn't have to be anything special. If you don't want me around after that, I'll leave you alone."

  Shelly saw both risk and potential reward. She didn't want another boyfriend, but she didn't want to continue down the same road with Scott either. He would have to accept that she was free to date others sooner or later and if sooner was better, then sooner it would be.

  "I'll tell you what. Let's go bowling Saturday. Scott will be at the state high school science competition. We'll go as friends. If you can agree to that, I promise to keep an open mind about going out again. But that's the best I can do. My life is way too complicated right now."

  "You've got a date, gorgeous."

  "A friendly date, Nick. Nothing more. I'll meet you there at eight."

  CHAPTER 40: MICHELLE

  Friday, February 22, 1980

  Michelle looked at Jerry Nelson and saw a teacher, a hunter, and a man her fiancé called his best friend. She also saw a handsome, graying man who asked a lot of questions, a man who made her slightly uncomfortable. She studied him closely as she listened to manly banter and worked on what was left of her Caesar salad at the Bull Rider.

  "So how were the roads?" Robert asked as he looked up from his plate.

  "They were bare and dry, for the most part. We hit some ice over Snoqualmie and a little slush near Ellensburg, but that was it. I hope it stays that way."

  "You're continuing to La Grande tonight?"

  "We don't have a choice," Jerry said. He leaned back and put an arm around his wife. "My brother is hosting a breakfast at eight and insists that we be there. The last thing I want to do is ruffle his feathers on Julie's big day."

  "When is your niece's wedding?" Michelle asked.

  "It's at four. Why she picked February is beyond me. She could have had the ranch in June, when the weather's glorious. But you know how kids are."

  "So tell me about you two," Janet Nelson said, mostly to Michelle. "How did you meet? How long have you been dating?"

  "We met the first day of school and started dating a few weeks later, right before the big hunting trip. Robert caught me impersonating a teacher in his classroom and decided that was reason enough to ask me out."

  Robert smiled.

  "Is that so?" Jerry asked.

  "It is. As a matter of fact, he asked me out by asking me a story problem."

  Jerry laughed.

 
"I hadn't heard that. You haven't changed," Jerry said to his former roommate. He turned to Michelle. "He was that way with Linda too – all business. Then again, why court someone with poems and flowers when you can do it with algebra?"

  "Oh, stop it," Janet said. She elbowed her husband and then looked at Robert. "I think it's very romantic. What matters is that you both found each other. I'm glad to see you move on, Robert. You look good. You look happy."

  "I am, Janet."

  Michelle put a hand on Robert's back and patted it as a waiter stopped by their table and filled four glasses of wine. He picked up their salad plates and headed back to the kitchen, passing three unoccupied tables along the way.

  The waiter returned ten minutes later with heated plates of prime rib, baked potatoes, and broccoli. Michelle Jennings, health food nut, dug right in. But it wasn't long before she lifted her eyes from the main course and again took note of her surroundings.

  "I see a lot of empty chairs," Michelle said. "Is there a basketball game tonight?"

  "There is, but it's on the road. The boys are playing in Ontario," Robert said. "The reason this place is so dead is because everyone is at home watching the Olympics. Tonight is Team USA's semifinal with Russia."

  "That's right," Jerry said. "I wish we could stick around to see that. I'd much rather crack a few cold ones at your place and watch the game than get back on the road. Of course, I don't think it will be much of a game."

  "What do you mean?" Janet asked.

  "I mean that the Soviets are a bunch of military types who have played hockey together for years. They're the best in the world. Our guys are pretty good for an Olympic squad, but they're college kids. There's only one player back from the seventy-six team."