After Chase made the introduction, Simon formally invited Hank to join.
More than curious and intrigued by the whole idea, Hank accepted wholeheartedly.
—
The last member of the group to sign on was Seymour Lynx, who was majoring in film and visual studies. “My dream had always been to be the next Sir Richard Attenborough, the British filmmaker of great films like A Bridge Too Far and Gandhi, to name two,” he stated with dramatic flair.
Seymour then reluctantly acknowledged that he had a bachelor’s degree in Jewish studies from the University of California in Los Angeles.
At which point Simon interjected, “Why Jewish studies, if you want to be a filmmaker?”
Seymour explained he had grown up amid the filmmaking business. “I basically teethed on film strips on the cutting room floor. Oh, coincidently, my father is a top production manager for MGM Studios. Filmmaking is in my DNA. It is my calling, and I want to be the best. From here, it gets a little complicated,” he admitted.
Seymour explained that his father had warned him that he was pursuing a career in a fickle business, and if he wanted to continue to work at the studio, he had to complete a formal education. “My skill level far exceeds what a formal education could possibly offer,” he boasted. Then, with less gusto, he added, “Having no choice, I relented.”
Therefore, Seymour enrolled in Jewish Studies, in part, to get back at his father who forced him to get a degree. In addition, having been reared an atheist; he suspected he had a lot of misinformation about religion. Surprisingly, he found that he enjoyed his religious courses. He even envisioned one day that it might present a new genre for his films.
“That wasn’t the end of it.” He grinned. Seymour told the group that he vividly remembered the first thing his father said to him on the day of his graduation. “Now that you have wasted the last four years of your life, plan on spending the next two years majoring in film and visual studies, and this time at Harvard.” Seymour mimicked his father’s edict. “I’m good, but my father is better, so here I am,” he conceded.
Seymour’s ego evidently complemented his appeal, so as he waxed on, the others did not find it the least bit offensive. With not much more to convey, he admitted that aside from filmmaking, he loved women, and more than women, he loved gambling. Poker was his forte.
He knew nothing of politics and was apolitical at best, which made him and Paolo decidedly strange bedfellows, one a political junkie and the other a political virgin. The two had met and had become friends during the second week of classes over a couple of brews at Jake’s, the local pub on Cambridge Street. The one trait Paolo and Seymour shared was that they oozed with charm, captivating the ladies.
Simon, again in his usual manner, had previously checked out Seymour thoroughly. He knew both Paolo and Seymour hung out at Jake’s, and had asked Paolo if he was of the opinion that Seymour would be a suitable fit for the study group.
Paolo said he was extremely likeable but offered to scope him out further; if he found Seymour acceptable, he’d formally introduce him to Simon. Of course, Simon already knew Paolo would be impressed, and the introduction would predictably be forthcoming.
Hence, Seymour became the fifth member of the study group.
—
Their majors were dissimilar, but their ambitions were the same. They were all overachievers who loved challenges. The fact that they all happened to become members of this study group was no coincidence. Simon had a list of potential candidates, and thus far, he had been fortunate to recruit his first choices. However, he had one more candidate he wanted to bring into the fold.
That would come later.
During the first year, the group met several times a week to discuss their various assignments. They found it invaluable to have their own personal computer lab and to be able to study freely in Simon’s apartment. They also managed regular time-out sessions at Jake’s Pub to chow down and relax.
Jake’s had a mezzanine level with a row of booths that overlooked the long bar below, and within a short time, most of the patrons were aware of a tacit understanding that the last booth was permanently reserved. It was where this group of eclectic students gathered regularly. Their subjects of conversation embraced a vast assortment of topics, usually outside the realm of their particular studies, tapping away at each other’s emotional, as well as their intellectual quotient.
It was also the place where these intellectuals came to know and admire each other, on a different, more personal level.
It was the place where they bonded.
4
TRUTH OR DARE
Throughout the first year of adjustment to academic life, some members of the group were fraught with personal dilemmas. Some brought on by themselves; some introduced by others. It was also a time when the group exhausted many hours studying together, coaching each other when necessary, and spending many evenings at Jake’s Pub.
Eventually, during the time spent at the apartment and their jamborees at Jake’s, this group of men began to feel more like brothers than schoolmates. To outsiders they seemed inseparable, and they were. It was also toward the end of that first year that they began to be more open and personal with each other and the group as a whole.
As for Chase, he was not normally prone to working in such proximity with others, so his desire to be part of this group was atypical. However, years before, Simon had instilled in him the confidence he needed, producing a burning ambition Chase had not previously experienced. His loyalty to Simon was for instilling in him a new desire of wanting to belong.
Similar to Chase, Hank felt a kindred spirit with Simon and the others as well, but on a different level. He sensed they all understood his personal quest, but it was Simon’s knowledge of the Internet that provided him access to an entirely new medium for getting out his message.
Seymour’s motivation was a little more complicated. With his father’s accomplishments overshadowing his own, he always strived to compete, and while the film industry was all he knew, he was becoming more restless about his future. He’d swing from genre to genre, his lust for the epic film being subdued. It wasn’t until listening to Paolo ad nauseam that politics crept into his psyche. Along with Simon’s understanding of the Internet, Seymour had found his true calling. He felt indebted to the group for his awakening.
Paolo’s reason was simpler: he loved being in the group. Maybe it was an Italian “guy” thing. It certainly provided him with a built-in audience that liked listening to what he had to say. Surprisingly, he liked to listen to them as well.
It was one of those nights at Jake’s, after they professed their gratitude for being part of the group, that they committed their allegiance to the fraternity.
From the sidelines, Simon concluded the time was ripe. Until that moment, he’d had many opportunities to test their talents. Now, the time had arrived—for the final and most crucial test—their loyalty.
Simon took the opportunity to suggest they engage in a high-stakes version of truth-or-dare, that seemingly innocuous game of placing an opponent in a situation with potentially embarrassing consequences. The high stakes are borne out of the depth of questioning. “It would be an opportunity to cement our relationships further, sharing on an even deeper level some of our secrets,” he said, encouraging them.
But it would also be his way to evaluate privately their level of devotion.
It was nearing eight o’clock on a Saturday night after several rounds of beer. So it was clear at that moment why they toasted each other with the words, “Why not!”
Jake’s became the scene of their truth-or-dare game where they would divulge some of their inner thoughts and learn some surprising details about one another, but only after they had taken a pledge to maintain total secrecy.
—
Sitting in their booth, Simon spun his empty beer bottle. With the neck of the bottle pointing to Chase, the game began.
Chase opted to turn to Hank,
and asked, “Truth or dare?”
“Truth,” he responded with a smile.
Chase then posed the question, “Were you aware that the information about the dean was false?”
Hank, the consummate organizer, was surprised that Chase even knew about his ordeal. He explained how he had planned to pull a group together to demonstrate against the administration for its minority scholarship selection process, at which time he was going to implicate the dean of the Graduate School of Arts and Science.
“I received an e-mail with shocking information pertaining to the awards allegedly granted to several of the selection committee’s family members, including the dean’s,” he reported. “Admittedly, I reacted hastily and broke one of my cardinal rules to validate all information.”
Unfortunately, by a strange coincidence, the dean’s office discovered Hank was the organizer of the protest. The dean, feeling Hank had impugned his reputation, was considering having him stand before the student ethics committee and face the possibility of expulsion.
Actually, Hank was aware that the e-mail was from Simon, who provided the information as a “private” dare, challenging Hank to dispute the administration’s actions. All along Simon had known the information was false, but did not enlighten Hank at the time. Brazen as usual, Hank had believed Simon not only could, but also should, help him out of the mess. He knew that Simon was one of the dean’s favorites and had asked him to intervene on his behalf. On several occasions, Simon had helped the dean with some crucial problems. Coincidently, they involved efforts to thwart a computer hacker who wreaked havoc with the campus database.
Hank’s misguided position was set straight when Simon appealed to the dean with a passionate defense. He was able to convince the dean it would not happen again, and assured him that Hank would correct the record regarding the authenticity and merits of the minority scholarship program. It was a close call.
“I promised Simon I wouldn’t engage directly in controversial issues, a difficult commitment for a dedicated activist.” He smirked. He consoled himself by rationalizing the concession was justified by his feeling of indebtedness toward Simon for bailing him out of a jam.
Although, after the episode, Hank did challenge Simon and asked him if he knew that the information was false.
Simon had matter-of-factly responded, “Yes, but you didn’t know that at the time, and that was the point. You rallied around a cause, and you’ve demonstrated once again your ability as a great organizer.”
Hank suspected from the beginning that it was a test, an initiation rite of some kind. He admitted to himself that he foolishly went along, thinking it was worth the risk. He wanted to become part of this exceptional group, with members he admired and had become fond of, including Simon.
Hank took the “truth” option, but with a slight variation—he omitted the part Simon had played.
In Simon’s mind, Hank had proven his ability by rallying the troops around a cause, and had proven his loyalty by not implicating him in his “private” dare. He admired Hank’s passion and fiery determination to fight injustice, but thought it best not to encourage him further and put the group potentially at risk. Those vital gifts and skills that he recognized in Hank were essential to the study group.
It was Hank’s turn to spin the bottle, and that time the neck pointed in Paolo’s direction.
Paolo turned to Seymour, “Truth or dare?”
Seymour, ready to take him on and with nothing to fear, said, “Truth.”
Paolo asked straight out, “Do you have a serious gambling addiction?”
Clearly, the questions were becoming a bit more personal.
Seymour, with full confidence, responded, “No more!” He went on to explain that several months ago he was at an after-hours club, in the posh neighborhood of Beacon Hill, participating in an illegal high-stakes poker game. He admitted he didn’t even have sufficient funds beyond the opening ante. True to form, he believed he was unbeatable.
Seymour, looking around at the others, said, “Then there was a police raid and they arrested me.” He bragged that he was ahead at the time, but as luck would have it, his winnings were confiscated. Then, in a slight whisper, he said, “I had no recourse so I reached out to Simon and asked him for help.” He had needed Simon to bail him out, which he did the next day. Seymour quite humbly admitted, “I can’t remember a time when I was so terrified. Spending the night in police lockup; being in a cage with real sleazy types was more than I could bear.”
Then, he continued on an even more personal level, saying, “I also have a confession. I’m broke.” He said he knew they all thought he was some rich kid from Beverly Hills, but the fact was his father had him tethered to an exceedingly tight financial leash. Since the stunt he played at UCLA, his father paid the tuition directly to the university and parceled out a measly allowance to him, which was in part why he continued to gamble.
Looking directly at Simon, he said, “The reason I don’t gamble anymore is that Simon has been functioning as my informal sponsor for Gamblers Anonymous.” It was clear that he was grateful to Simon for his friendship.
Seymour was happy to unleash a personal burden to a group of people he felt he could trust. He took the “truth” option without reluctance. It didn’t negate the fact that, at the time, he had a suspicion that Simon had something to do with the raid. Actually, the night of the game, he had invited Simon to join him, only to have him reply that he might meet up with him later and asked for the address where they were holding the game. The day after the arrest, Seymour asked Simon if he was involved, and he admitted that he had alerted the police.
Simon quipped, “Think of it as shock therapy.” Actually, Simon knew a police officer in the Beacon Hill precinct. He told him he would provide him with information on the after-hours club’s activities, if he would agree to arrest Seymour and keep him overnight but not charge him, and the police officer agreed.
“I did it for your own good,” Simon insisted, “and I was only trying to help you overcome your addiction.”
Seymour was angry beneath the surface, for several weeks, but eventually he appreciated Simon’s intervention. He never divulged to the group Simon’s involvement in the raid, only about the bail.
Perhaps this time, Simon’s motives were altruistic.
In any case, Simon didn’t need to test Seymour’s proven talents in the filmmaking industry. What was more imperative was that he passed the loyalty test. He worked closely with Seymour to calm his wild streak and redirect his creativity to more worthwhile activities, those directed specifically toward the group.
—
Unfortunately, for Paolo, Seymour spun the bottle and the neck pointed to Simon. As Simon adjusted his seat to face Paolo, he had already surmised the question Simon would pose, and there was no way Paolo would risk taking a dare from him. He planned to respond with an emphatic “Truth.”
As predicted, Simon, in a jocular way, asked, “With all your dalliances, have you ever gotten a girl pregnant?”
The others in the group were somewhat aghast at how personal the questions actually had become, but Paolo knew Simon was just setting him up, again.
Paolo’s predicament had required money and smooth talking. He could handle the latter, but he had needed Simon for the other. He revealed to the group that he had a friend who was pregnant and seeking to have an abortion immediately. He discovered the procedure was expensive, costing upward of $500, money he didn’t have because all his savings had gone to his tuition.
Looking in Simon’s direction, he said, “I trusted Simon would lend me the money if he thought a loan would resolve my dilemma.”
Never one to miss an opportunity, Simon had loaned Paolo the money.
Simon grinned as he looked at Paolo, and interjected, “I know you’re a ladies’ man and always assumed one day it would lead to complications of one kind or another.” Simon held that he was pleased to support one of his brothers, and of course, money was n
ot an issue.
Paolo, ignoring Simon’s boast, continued. “As it developed, I had a friend who was indeed pregnant, but not by me,” he assured. A minor detail he had left out when asking Simon for the money. While he felt a trifle dishonest for deceiving Simon, he felt the end justified the means. He glanced at Simon for his reaction; there was none.
“I won’t tell you her real name, but let’s call her Alicia.”
Paolo explained the father of the child was her boyfriend, Josh, the son of a U.S. senator. Josh, evidently a pathetic person, was deathly afraid of being disowned by his father if he ever discovered the pregnancy. Josh had begged Paolo for his help to make the problem “go away,” something to which Alicia reluctantly agreed. Paolo didn’t respect Josh, who he considered rather spineless. The request for money further sanctified his feeling toward Josh.
After receiving the money from Simon, the solution proved to be more complicated. Paolo knew it could be a high-risk game for all of them, especially Alicia. It was 1996, and the reported level of violence and public disruption against abortion providers had elevated in terms of protests, hate mail, bomb threats, and, up to that time, eighteen murders, as reported by the National Abortion Federation.
Danger aside, the following day, Alicia entered a clinic on the other side of town to meet with an abortion doctor, escorted by Josh and her faithful friend Paolo. Shortly after Alicia was ushered into the treatment room, Paolo became extremely distressed.
“I had to prevent Alicia from making an irreversible mistake, but, not wanting to intrude further, I didn’t act because it was Josh’s responsibility.” Paolo, however, was able to convince Josh to retrieve Alicia and stop her from going forward with the procedure, after assuring Josh that he would help them find a solution to their problem.
“Fortunately, Josh was able to intervene in time,” he said with relief.
However, just as they were about to leave the building, the senator arrived in a rage and headed straight for Josh. Alicia, still shaken from what had almost occurred, was then facing an entirely new trauma.
Brotherhood Beyond the Yard (The Simon Trilogy) Page 3