Glacier Gal

by Langdon, L.

  Glacier Gal

  ___

  L. Langdon

  © 2017 L. Langdon

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 1494952815

  ISBN-13: 9781494952815

  Glacier Gal

  L. Langdon

  For Joan

  Author’s Note

  Instead of inventing place names and descriptions, I borrowed the real ones. Thus, the geography is reasonably accurate. In any case, I couldn’t create an imaginary setting that was any prettier.

  The people and situations, of course, are totally fictional.

  Contents

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 42

  CHAPTER 43

  CHAPTER 44

  CHAPTER 45

  CHAPTER 46

  CHAPTER 47

  CHAPTER 48

  CHAPTER 49

  CHAPTER 50

  Chapter 1

  late April, 1969

  Gerri Barton was headed toward the Pee Dee State College Library, walking silently—almost stealthily—in her rubber-soled shoes. The street lights were still burned out, and, in the deep twilight, she could barely see the ground in front of her. The State of South Carolina had higher priorities than street lights at a small, segregated college. She turned around and scanned the area behind her. There was no one in sight. She wasn’t alarmed by the darkness—in fact, she was depending on it.

  If she thought about it, it was actually funny—here she was, sneaking into her college library to study for her last, big final before she graduated. But, if she was caught, it would be anything but funny. She would get in trouble. Probably not serious trouble—she had an exemplary record—but she didn’t want any stains on that record, especially now so close to graduation. The school librarian, Mrs. Blakely, however, might well lose her job. She was a high school friend of Olivia Barton, Gerri’s mother, and she had given Gerri an illegal duplicate of the key to the outside door of her office.

  Gerri used Mrs. Blakely’s office as a secret place to study. The library’s administrative offices, including Mrs. Blakely’s office, were closed at this hour of the evening. Gerri could use her office with no distractions and no interruptions. She didn’t do so lightly, only when she had no alternative. She was the first member of her family to attend college, and she had worked hard to do well. Money was a constant problem—she had gotten acceptances from other colleges, but Pee Dee College was only five miles from her family’s farm, so she could save money by living at home. But it was hard to study at home. There were always chores to be done, and she had two younger sisters who seemed incapable of being quiet for more than two minutes at a time.

  That meant that Gerri did most of her studying on campus—and the reading room of the library was the best place to concentrate for most of each semester. But as finals approached, the number of students studying in the library increased, and, along with them, the noise level increased. If Gerri studied there tonight, she would be constantly distracted.

  Worse than the noise problem this week was the problem of Thurman. Thurman Saunders had been her boyfriend—she guessed that she could call him that—for the last two years. They dated, they sang together in the Pee Dee College Choir, and, last, but not least, they did homework together. Did they have a future together? She didn’t know. Thurman had hinted at times that he wanted one, but nothing more. Did she want them to have a future together? She didn’t know. He was handsome, popular, and he had a lot of big ideas. But Gerri had reservations.

  He was dogmatic and intolerant of dissent. Particularly if it came from a female. And especially if it came from Gerri. Early in their relationship, Gerri had, in an informal group political discussion, disagreed with one of Thurman’s statements on Black Power. Actually, she had spoken up only in favor of the non-violence espoused by Dr. King when Thurman had been praising some of the more radical groups. He told her in rather nasty tones just how reactionary and out-of-touch she was. Her brief attempt at defending herself just brought more of the same. After that, it just seemed easier to try to avoid that subject altogether. Thus, when he later mentioned that black women should support their men and not try to supplant them in the struggle, she just tried to ignore it. Though she worried about some of his attitudes, she was more than happy to delay any confrontation and keep the peace.

  But it wasn’t only Thurman’s political and social attitudes that gave her pause. Gerri had promised her mother that she would retain her virginity until after she had graduated. That was a compromise—her mother had wanted the promise to apply until Gerri got married.

  Even before Thurman knew about her promise, it had proved to be an embarrassment to Gerri. Once, when she was a freshman, Gerri had found herself in a bull session with several girls who came from some large city up north. The talk turned to sex, and Gerri, wanting to contribute to the discussion, told them about her agreement. They were scornful and amused. She had been branded as hopelessly old-fashioned, as irredeemably ‘country.’ They reminded her that this was the decade of free love, and that she was missing out on part of the college experience with her silly notions.

  Maybe they were right—she didn’t much care. For Gerri, this was more about her promise to her mother and her duty to her family. After all, they were sacrificing to pay her college expenses.

  Thurman had accepted—albeit with some grumbling—Gerri’s sexual limits. That was a good thing—maybe. It would have been a good thing if Gerri had had a healthy confidence about her attractiveness, but she did not. Therefore, she had always had this niggling doubt that he truly felt a physical attraction to her. Oh sure, he wanted her in a ‘notch on his belt’ sort of way—she supposed that was nearly universal with guys. But, if that was all, then what drew him to her after it was clear that she wouldn’t sleep with him?

  Ah, that was the nub of it, and that was a major reason for this stealthy expedition. Thurman had always been academically needy—he had demanded Gerri’s help with his assignments, particularly in writing his papers. It had finally gotten to the point where Gerri felt guilty for abetting what amounted to his cheating. She was damned (morally) if she did, and damned (with Thurman) if she didn’t.

  Finally, a few days ago, Gerri had decided to test him. She had told him that some unspecified crisis at home would mean that she couldn’t come to school at all during the period between the last class and the start of the exams. She was ever so sorry, she told him, but she would not be able to give him any help. There was no chance that Thurman would come to her home to get help—he and her mother didn’t get along, and her father had made his scorn of Thurman abundantly clear. Just in case, however, Gerri cleared the plan with her parents. Even if Thurman got desperate and call
ed her at home, they would alibi her.

  She felt horrible about this deception. In fact, she had privately promised herself that if they made it through this period—if Thurman buckled down and did the term paper that he had been bothering her about—that she would reward him handsomely. To this end, she had made a trip to the Pee Dee College Health Center. With the help of a sympathetic nurse, she had walked away with a prescription for birth control pills. The girls who had laughed at her before would have been titillated if they had known. They never would know, of course. Gerri had already learned that lesson.

  She hoped that Thurman would be just as excited. Of course, if he didn’t pass her test, he would never know, either. Her mother wouldn’t know either way—not for a long time, anyway. Not that Gerri would be breaking her promise; she was graduating in less than two weeks, after all, but she just didn’t want to have that conversation with her mother.

  Gerri also hoped that she herself would be excited if this worked out. So far, she was ambivalent. She knew that feelings of guilt and obligation alone were absolutely terrible reasons for physical intimacy. Perhaps, she told herself, the excitement would come for her when the moment of truth got closer.

  She sighed as she thought about this. What did Thurman see when he looked at her? She knew what she saw when she looked at herself. She saw a fit young woman, strong from a lifetime of work on the farm. She still, on more days than not, walked the five miles from her home to school, carrying whatever books and materials she needed.

  What she did not see was anything resembling the popular taste in beauty. Her complexion was smooth, but her skin was dark. She didn’t have the slender body and long legs to carry off the tiny mini-skirts which were so in vogue. Twiggy, she was not, and would never be. That was OK. Gerri was comfortable with her 5 foot, 5 inch frame—at least when she wasn’t worried about what someone else might think of it.

  So what did guys think of that frame? Gerri had heard various terms over the years, and she had her own, private translations for each. Sexy—of doubtful sincerity—he wants to get me in bed. Fat—unfair and untrue—he wants to be cruel. Phat—similar to ‘sexy,’ but trying to be slicker about it. Thurman had called her that once before he realized that Gerri wasn’t going to sleep with him. He never called her that again. Stocky—not trying to be cruel, but certainly not what she’d consider flattering. Chunky—similar to ‘stocky’. And Solid—trying to be honest without being negative. Gerri liked that last one the best, since it conjured up good personality traits as well as a physical image.

  Suddenly, a noise brought Gerri back from her daydreaming. She stopped under a tree and scanned the area ahead of her. Her heart raced for a moment until she realized the noise’s source. A group of students had left the library by the public entrance and were walking toward the Student Center. They were on a brightly lit walkway and they were far away. No threat to Gerri.

  It was then that she realized that she had been walking slower and slower while she daydreamed. Trying to delay this, I guess… Smiling, she hummed a few bars of the Johnny Rivers tune, ‘Secret Agent Man.’ It’s a good thing that I want to teach. I’d be an awful secret agent.

  Now was her moment of truth. She took a last look around—there was nobody in sight. She left the deeper shadow under the tree and walked the last few feet to Mrs. Blakely’s door. She had the key in her hand, and she was in the office in seconds. She took a deep breath to calm herself, and quietly turned on the desk lamp—invisible from the outside, thanks to the heavy blinds—and set out her books and papers.

  ___

  An hour later, Gerri was making excellent progress on her studies when she heard voices through the vent. Mrs. Blakely had warned her of this eventuality, and had supplied the solution—a large, heavy cushion to block the vent. Gerri got up to put the cushion in place, but as she was about to do so, she realized that the voices were those of Thurman and his friend, Claude Winston.

  Claude asked, “How’s your paper coming? Is it done yet?”

  As this was the question that Gerri most wanted answered, she moved the cushion away from the vent and listened.

  “I haven’t made any progress. Gerri said a couple of days ago that she had something going on at home. I think I’ll ask for an extension.”

  Gerri was struck with an agony of conscience. Am I being too cruel? Maybe I should go out there and help him just for a while… But he should have done at least a little on it.

  “And you haven’t made any progress since then?”

  Thank you, Claude.

  Thurman said something that she couldn’t hear, and then added: “I went to Orangeburg last night.”

  “You went to see Carlotta when you had a paper due?”

  Who on earth is Carlotta?

  “She wanted to see me.” He chuckled. “Carlotta can be very persuasive.”

  Who the hell is Carlotta??? By this time, Gerri had abandoned all pretense of blocking the vent. Something was seriously wrong here, and she needed to know what. She set the cushion on the floor next to the vent and sat on it, eavesdropping—without shame—on their conversation.

  “When are you going to tell Gerri about Carlotta? You should have done it long ago.”

  “I know, I know. I’ll tell her soon.”

  “You’re such a triflin’ turkey. You don’t want to tell her before she finishes your schoolwork.”

  Gerri heard Thurman make some indistinct protest, but she didn’t care. All vestiges of guilt about testing Thurman—and about eavesdropping, for that matter—were banished. She was gripping the cushion so tightly that she was afraid that she might rip it. How could I have been so trusting? So stupid? She felt a tear slide down her cheek and rubbed it angrily. He’s not worth any tears, damn it! She turned to the vent, and heard Claude talking again.

  “Suppose Gerri finds out about Carlotta?”

  “You’re the only person on campus who knows. She won’t find out unless she’s hiding under this table.” There was the scraping of a chair. “Nope, she’s not there.” Gerri could hear Thurman laugh.

  “Just be careful. I don’t know…Gerri deserves better; she’s a nice girl. And she’s a solid, all around person.”

  Thank you, again, Claude. She smiled through her tears at his use of ‘solid’ to describe her.

  “You’re right, and I like her. Geraldine’s cute in her nappy-headed way. But Carlotta… Carlotta’s so fine, with that bright complexion and her long, wavy hair. And you should see her long legs in one of those mini-skirts.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I get it. So why doesn’t she do your paper?”

  Thurman laughed suggestively. “I don’t think that’s her specialty. She’s damn good at other things, if you know what I mean.”

  “I thought you told me a couple of weeks ago that this wasn’t just about sex.”

  Gerri made a disgusted face. Here, she had been thinking that Claude was on her side—but he had known all along and said nothing. She could have a little bit of sympathy for him. He was Thurman’s friend, after all. But still…

  She was so preoccupied with her thoughts that she almost missed Thurman’s response. “It is more than sex—although Carlotta’s a hell of a lot more liberated than Gerri is. It’s about adventure; about the willingness to try things. Carlotta and I are thinking about going up to New York this summer. Gerri’s got her life all planned out. She’s going to teach high school mathematics and settle down right here. I’ll bet she’ll never even leave South Carolina.”

  Gerri had heard enough. She didn’t want to lose any more study time over Thurman’s betrayal. She returned the cushion to the vent and sat back down at the desk. Maybe she would cry a few more tears after her test—in private—but she wanted her performance on that test to be up to her usual standards.

  ___

  Much later, as she walked home from the library, Gerri allowed herself to think again about the overheard conversation. A bit to her surprise, she was already over the tears, but she nee
ded to think. Should she have known? Were there some signs that she had ignored? She sighed in frustration.

  If nothing else, his use of her full name, Geraldine, told her that he had no real respect for her. There was nothing really wrong with the name, but Gerri just didn’t like it—just as she never cared for the crotchety great aunt that she was named after. All of her friends respected her wishes, and it was rare that she even heard that name.

  She thought about Thurman’s closing remarks. Funny how some guys tried to equate being ‘liberated’ with giving free sex. But his last, cruel salvo especially bothered her. She could see how Thurman might think that she lacked a sense of adventure, but it was untrue and unfair. She simply didn’t have the money or the time to go on trips. And she had been out of South Carolina. OK, so it was only as far as North Carolina in her senior year of high school. And the part about settling down and teaching high school math: was it a crime to want to use your education? And she wasn’t that tied to her hometown. In fact, she intended to apply for jobs at a number of school districts.

  Still, she reflected, trying to put a bright face on it all, she could call herself lucky. Though she had been humiliated, it was totally in private. She didn’t have to face her tormenter. Then she realized that she was kidding herself. She didn’t have to face him now, but Pee Dee State was a small school, and she was sure to run into Thurman before the end of the semester.

  She stewed about that. Only one thing was clear to her—he mustn’t find out that she knew about Carlotta. The chance was too great that he would connect her knowledge with his conversation with Claude. Nothing must remotely suggest that Gerri was in the administrative offices after hours—that would lead straight to Mrs. Blakely and cost her her job.

  Beyond that, however, she didn’t want Thurman’s pity; she didn’t want to appear to be a victim, never mind that she was just that. So she would be casual, but dismissive. He might think that she was being callous, but why should she care what he thought?

  ___