by Mitch Goth
but simply could not.
"Hello, Yellow Springs," Wes smiled, revealing his flawless white teeth, "and hello to all the brand new Antiochians among us, as well as those from the past. I'd like to welcome all of you to Antioch College," a sea of applause paused his speech. "Thank you, thank you. You know, nobody under this tent has had an ordinary journey in life, myself included. And I think that's how we all ended up here," the crowd chuckled. "I'm serious," Wes snickered a little as well, "we all have incredibly unique, one of a kind stories and lives. And, if you're anything like me, you constantly look around you and wonder, 'why me? How did I manage to end up here?'. I remember times like that fondly. I remember when I first went into business, my first few weeks working the stock market from my mom's Winnebago, business was slow, I was damn near broke. I sat in that hot, muggy RV and thought, 'why me?'. Then, a few years later, when I was in my campaign office in Delaware, controlling my race for Governor, I couldn't help but wonder the same thing. Why me? It's probably something you're all wondering to yourselves right now. Why you? Why are you all here? Why were you all chosen to revive this school? Well, let me do something no one ever did for me, let me answer that question for you. You're here because you're the best fits for this place. You might not think you're the smartest, most elite group in the world. But, I assure you, in Antioch's eyes, you're the very best. You are the quirkiest, you are the most capable, you are the most Antiochian. So, one more time, I say welcome to Antioch College!"
At this, Wes stepped down from the podium as everyone in the tent stood up and provided a thunderous applause. Wes waved and smiled to the group as they all watched him. He looked, acted, and waved just like a politician.
Evan watched this man with mixed feelings. He could tell this man was a seasoned speaker, and he couldn't tell whether Wes was being sincere in his speech or simply speaking what the students wanted to hear.
But, as Evan looked around at his new classmates, he could see that what Wes had said was at least partially truthful. These kids, his peers, didn't look elite, they didn't look ivy league. But they looked smart, they looked real. This brought some peace to Evan's mind. The quirkiest, and the most capable.
4
After the speech, the students shuffled out of the tent and made conversation with the alumni and faculty. But Evan was in no mood to make small talk with anyone. He made haste back to the dorm building, hoping to get a few more minutes of alone time before his roommate arrived. Although Evan figured whoever he was, he was already there and moved in comfortably.
Skipping the elevator and taking the stairs, Evan headed down his hall, anticipating a roommate cluttering up his space. Just as he was about to reach his door, a figure came out of the room across from his and blocked his way. It was the loud blonde guy from his table under the tent.
"Hey, I remember you," the blonde guy smiled brightly, "you were at my table downstairs. I'm Brad."
"Evan," Evan greeted quickly, trying to get past his blonde acquaintance as fast as possible.
"Well, Evan, looks like we're neighbors," Brad continued blocking Evan's way, albeit unintentionally.
"You know, I'd love to make small talk," Evan lied, "but I kind of just want to unpack some things and call it an early night."
"An early night?" Brad raised an eyebrow. "Is that a damn joke? The sun's still high. Come explore with us."
"Who's us?"
"Me and my roomie," Brad pointed to his open door just as his roommate came out of it. A tall, well tanned guy. He wore small glasses and a subtle smile. Evan could tell already that his two neighbors couldn't be more different.
"Hi, John Paul Buffett," Brad's roommate extended a hand, "but everyone calls me JP."
"Nice meeting you," Evan shook his hand, still in a hurry. "I was just telling your friend I was gonna call it an early night."
"You can't go to bed now," JP explained in a curiously calming tone, "there's so much life out in the world right now. Spending that time sleeping is squandering a once in a lifetime experience."
"Once in a life time experience?" Evan nearly laughed.
"Indeed, it will never be this point in time again," JP went on. "There will never be a day exactly like this one. You never know who you could meet, or who you could run into."
"Yeah, you can sleep when you're dead," Brad pressured Evan. "Come see the town with us. I hear it's hippy-ish as hell."
"It's a very cultured, calm place," JP agreed in his own way. "Yellow Springs is a sight to see, and an experience to feel."
Evan thought this over. All he really wanted to do was be alone in his room while he still could. Then he thought over what everyone always told him back home, what he'd begun to tell himself. He wouldn't get anywhere or see anything in life if he didn't get out and live.
"Come on, you're killin' my buzz," Brad went on pushing. "Are you coming with or not?"
"A trip into town will ease your anxieties," JP added.
"My anxieties?" Evan was curious how JP could tell he was nervous.
"They're painfully obvious," JP nodded. "You're crawling with anxiety. Come with us, shake some of it off. I guarantee you'll sleep better than if you go to bed now."
Evan sighed, "Alright, I'll go to town with you guys."
"Wonderful," JP smiled.
"Bitchin'," Brad added. "Alright, lets hit the town, kids."
5
As the trio waltzed across campus, Evan and JP both strolled quietly, watching Brad point at buildings and list off a slew of historical facts about them. When Evan first saw him, he didn't think much of Brad. He figured he wasn't much more than a loud mouthed kid who got into Antioch due to nothing more than dumb luck. But, as Evan listened, he found what Brad was saying sounded well researched, almost eloquently spoken.
"And that thing over there is the Student Union building," Brad pointed to a oddly shaped building just across the parking lot as they strode off the campus and began the trek into town. "Or I should say it used to be," he laughed.
Evan found this building almost amusing. It was constructed so awkwardly, he could tell that from the exterior alone. There were windows of all different sizes and they all seemed to be in clusters exactly where they shouldn't have been. The building looked like it was originally meant to be perceived as futuristic. As Brad explained, it was build seventy years ago, making its attempts to predict the future of architecture far off and truly laughable. It's derelict condition didn't add anything to it's eye-candy factor. The shrubs and plants surrounding the building were either overgrown or dead, all the windows were dirtied and dark, all those that weren't broken anyway.
"What did a place like this use a Student Union for?" Evan inquired. He knew what they were for in normal schools, but he had no idea what Antiochians would do in one.
"There was student government, cafeteria, cafe, club centers, hang-out places, the whole shebang," Brad explained as the building disappeared from view.
"A place where Antiochians could go and independently grow their minds," JP added.
"Now all that grows in there is mold," Brad grinned, "the black, deadly kind."
"Shame," Evan shrugged, not sure what else to say.
"Eh, not that bad," Brad replied. "If it were a more historic building around here, I'd be more concerned."
"You seem to know a lot about Antioch's history," Evan pointed out. "Where'd you learn it all?"
"Google."
"You learned all of that from Google?"
"You can never underestimate the power of the internet," JP smiled. "Such a wonderful age we live in."
"Damn right," Brad agreed. "It took a few hours, but I learned everything I wanted to know."
"Why spend so much time on history?" Evan asked.
"It's my major, I should probably like it a little bit," Brad explained.
"I don't remember seeing that on the list of majors in the catalog," Evan searched his mind to recall all the majors available at Antioch. He didn't remember there being very many.
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br /> "It's gonna be self-designed, I'm not gonna let any college tell me what I can learn." Brad exclaimed with a joyful smile.
"You can do that?"
"Indeed," JP answered. "Antioch has always been a place where you are allowed to learn what you want to learn. There aren't very many boundaries to be had. They want it to truly be a place to grow and thrive in your own personal experience and environment."
"You should be in a commercial for the place, damn," Brad said with a chuckle.
"So are you doing self-designed too?" Evan wondered at his tall, bespectacled new friend.
"Nah," JP shrugged, "I'm thinking taking the college up on their philosophy major. But who knows. The future is impossible to predict, so why try?"
"What about you?" Brad aimed his gaze at Evan. "What are you thinking for your major?"
"Political Economy." Evan stated simply. Both Brad and JP made uncomfortable noises upon hearing it.
"That is unfortunate," JP said apologetically.
"Why?" Brad snickered, shaking his head. "Why would you come to Antioch for that?"
"Because it's one of their majors, and they have good teachers for it," Evan explained. "Not to mention, free tuition."
"Yeah," Brad figured, "no tuition is nice, and it is one of their set up majors. But, they had good teachers, they don't anymore."
"What?" Evan was instantly confused.
"No offense to the current faculty, I'm sure they're great, but we don't have any Political Economy professors anymore. Not yet anyway."
"But I signed up for classes this semester."
"I'm sure you did. I don't know who's teaching it, but it's probably not anyone like who they used to have. Congrats, Evan, you picked the major the college is least prepared for," Brad laughed devilishly. "Shit, sucks to be you."
"It'll be fine," Evan assured them, although his tone was hardly convincing. Was the PECO major really that ill-advised? Evan hoped not, but deep down, he knew they were right. With how the rest of the college seemed to operate, he doubted the classes would be any less unconventional.
6
As students frolicked about the campus and relaxed on the main lawn, a set of eyes watched them from above. This deep hazel gaze belonged to Wes Harding. He watched his new students socialize, relax in the grass, and play hacky-sack in a large circle. It all confused him. They were all strangers to each other, they all should have been just getting acclimated to one another, unpacking their belongings in their rooms and their social lives throughout the halls. Instead, they all seemed to be friends already. It was so foreign to Wes, so puzzling.
Finding the sight of the students too thought provoking for comfort, Wes turned away from his window and turned to peer around his new office. He hadn't gotten properly unpacked and situated yet. Many of his books and supplies were still in boxes, stacked atop his large mahogany desk. Around the office, there was much more clutter, although none of it was his. Tool boxes, short ladders, paint cans. The whole room still stank of drying paint. The crews had just finished it up the day before.
The campus's South Hall, the administration offices, was the last building to go under renovation, and it came down to the final hours before the essential portions were done. Many offices were still being worked on, but the most important rooms were done up well enough. The entire first floor was pristine, as it was the thing new and prospective students would see the most. The art gallery was cleaned and repainted, the only thing it was missing was art. The upper floors were still under some work, Wes's floor included. It annoyed him and only made him think over what exactly he'd signed up to do.
Just then, Amanda wandered in, colorful expression painted on her. Her happiness bore a stark contrast to Wes's unsure annoyance.
"You seem happy," he observed, turning back to the window.
"My favorite school is alive again, why shouldn't I be happy?" Amanda replied, noticing his odd look. "What's up with you?"
"I'm...concerned."
"What's there to be concerned about? We've got a gaggle of happy, excited students down there."
"What kind of students, thought? They're a confusing bunch, aren't they?"
"I don't think so. And if they confuse some people, that just means they're a little Antiochian, which is a good thing."
"Is it?"
"I like to think so, yeah," Amanda nodded, puzzled by her boss's emotions.
"They're all so laid back, so relaxed already. Most people in their positions would be shy, uncertain. These kids are frolicking, and playing hacky-sack," he turned to Amanda. "Hacky-sack, Amanda, it's not normal."
"It isn't normal, it's Antioch. You ought to get used to it if you're, you know, running the school."
"I can run it fine," Wes assure her, "but that won't stop me from worrying over the culture we're cultivating around here."
"You're worried about that?" Amanda nearly laughed. "These kids are gonna fit in perfectly around here. Have you seen the town at all?"
"Yes, Amanda, I have. What's your point?"
"This class is exactly what the town wants, what the town needs. They're exactly what the school needs, exactly the kind of people that will love it around here."
"I thought hippies were supposed to like it around here."
"You could say that, hippies have been around here since I was a kid, and were around here before then. That culture is just a cornerstone of Yellow Springs."
"I can't shake the feeling they'll gum up the works," Wes groaned, sitting down behind his cluttered desk.
"Gum up the works?"
"Those people are always unpredictable, always wildcards. Who's to say I won't end up being Daddy Warbucks to all these Little Orphan Antiochians."
This brought a smile and a small chuckle to Amanda, "Good lord, Wes."
"What's amusing?" Wes replied stressfully.
"You really ought to get out and see the community, get to know people around here," she explained. "You're so concerned with running the school, you're forgetting to get to know the school, not to mention the town. If you don't get out there soon, you'll lose their respect, and that'll look really bad for all of us."
"I can handle it, Amanda, everything will be fine," Wes promised less than convincingly.
"Are you sure about that?"
"Sure enough, yes."
"Will you at least come down and actually meet some of the students today? You really should if you're going to be working around them from now on."
"Can I get some real work done first?" Wes wondered, flustered.
"Fine, but I'll be back in half an hour, then we're going out to meet people."
"If you say so."
"You'll see," she smiled as she strolled out of the office, "I'll turn you into a real Yellow Springer in no time!"
7
At a wrought iron table outside a cafe in town, Evan sipped hot tea and observed his surroundings as Brad and JP made idle conversation. He'd seen the town when he visited the school and when he finally came to move in, but this was the first time he'd actually taken a few moments to analyze it. Now he was seeing everything he'd overlooked before, which only made Yellow Springs more interesting to him.
Directly across the street from them was a steel drummer playing renditions of pop songs. He had a small collection of people around him, listening, tossing money in the box he had on the ground by his feet. In any other city, people would see this person as a nuisance, a beggar. In Yellow Springs, he was legitimate entertainment, a miniature concert people could attend on their way to the bank or post office.
Not far from the drummer was an alleyway where an almost constant stream of people came in and out. This alley wasn't your average dark, big city kind. With bright red brick walkways, wildflower gardens, brightly colored storefronts, it was Yellow Springs' answer to a shopping mall. One of the many things about this town that was similar to other towns, but at the same time so amazingly different.
To Evan, this town was almost paradoxical. Eve
ryone who walked the streets walked so happily, they strolled without a care. So many shops that would never find success anywhere else thrived in this town, herb shops, art import businesses, and even a store that sold nothing but jewelry made of kitchen utensils. They were such specialty places, but everyone flocked to them. One of the many things Evan couldn't quite understand about Yellow Springs.
As Evan's gaze slid around his surroundings, his eyes landed on someone walking across the street. Walking just as happily as everyone else, just as happily as she had been when she was in the tent in the sea of strangers. This intriguing, thought-provoking girl was back in his sight, just as interesting as she was before, just as odd to him as the rest of the town was. His eyes followed her as his mind wandered. But, it didn't take long for someone to notice the person in his sights. After a few moments, Evan's view was interrupted by snapping fingers right in front of his face. Evan came back to reality in a flash. He instantly shot a glare at Brad, who was grinning at his new friend's scowl.
"Found a person of interest already, I see," he laughed.
"What are you talking about," Evan wondered, defensively.
"Come on, we all saw you looking at her," Brad replied, watching her now as well.
"If anyone cares, her name is Emily," JP pointed out.
"You know her?" Evan asked, interest peaked.
"She sat at my table for the president's speech. She's comes on a bit strong for my taste, but everyone lives in their own way," JP answered with a shrug.
A bit strong? These words echoed through Evan's head. What could that mean? Was it any good?
"Go talk to her," Brad suggested, "introduce yourself of something. Don't just sit around and creepily ogle a cute girl from a distance. It makes us all look bad."
"Yeah, I'm not gonna do that," Evan sat back in his seat, sipping his tea.
"Why not? You're obviously interested."
"I'm not the best with people, and I would prefer not to publicly embarrass myself," Evan admitted.
"If everyone were afraid of embarrassment, no great discoveries would ever be made," JP responded philosophically.
"Why don't you go talk to her," Evan inquired at Brad, "you said it yourself, she's cute. Why don't you go introduce yourself?"
"Because, I'm gay," Brad replied simply.
Evan cocked his head in confusion. He looked over this blonde, well-put-together smart ass and couldn't quite put two and two together. Was he lying just to make believers look stupid? Was he being serious?
"I know, I know," Brad sighed, "I don't really look like the type."
"Not at all," Evan agreed.
"I was under the impression gay didn't have a type," JP figured.
"It doesn't," Brad said. "And thinking I'm not the type is rather gaycist," he shot smart grin at Evan.
"Gaycist?" Evan was puzzled by this new term. "Is that a thing?"
"I'm making it a thing," Brad replied. "Homophobia is such a dumb term. They're not scared, they're just assholes. Thus, gaycist."
"I know I'm taking away from an enthralling conversation," JP interrupted. "But Emily's gone."
Evan turned around and looked down the street. She was nowhere to be found. He came back defeated,