He turned back to the class and pointed to the board, “If you haven’t already begun to write down this quote, I would suggest you start immediately, because this is what we will be discussing for the next four weeks. This is what all of your papers will be about and this is what your final project will be about. Learn that quote, digest it, process it and start applying it to your thinking.”
He turned back to the board and started to write again.
Harmonica Frank
Robert Johnson
Blind Lemon Jefferson
Muddy Waters
John Lee Hooker
The Band
Bob Dylan
Laura Nyro
The Grateful Dead
Creedence Clearwater Revival
Sly Stone
Allman Brothers
Elvis Presley
Bruce Springsteen
Chrissie Hynde
CSNY
Dr. John
Beach Boys
“This list goes on and on. It’s dynamic and it’s intertwined. Where does one influence end and another begin? Can they be separated?” Professor Stevens hit a button, static crackled through the room. Schooner and Mia both looked at one another in the same moment, wide eyed and wide smiled as the first strains of Robert Johnson’s blues classic “Come on in My Kitchen” began to play.
When a woman gets in trouble
Everybody throws her down
Looking for her good friend
None can be found.
You better come on, in my kitchen
There’s going to be rain in our door.3
Interim had officially begun.
CHAPTER 10
Three and a half hours flew by as they listened to music and talked about its meaning, its cultural significance and the topics they would delve into daily — What is the American birthright? What are the promises? What are the betrayals? How, as a people, do we come to terms with the chasm between promise and betrayal, and how is that portrayed in music?
It was fascinating and being exposed to music they’d never heard before had the foursome pumped up. By the time they got out of class and walked across The Quad to the dining hall for lunch, their excitement was palpable, thoughts and theories beginning to formulate and flow out of them. As they walked through the food line, they tossed around topics for their project (which they didn’t even have the guidelines for yet!), but that’s how psyched up they were.
Schooner found Henry and Rosalie to be down to earth, fun and really funny. He loved the way they busted on one another and the easy camaraderie in this group. They were just accepting him and taking him in. Making him one of their own. No questions asked. No judgments. No need for any particular status. He was ok with Mia, so he was ok with them. Ironic, he thought, absolutely the antithesis of how Beau had treated Mia.
When they all had their trays, they made their way to a table and the three had just assumed Schooner would say goodbye and head over to sit with some of his jock friends or tennis teammates, but he didn’t do that. He followed them to their table and sat down next to Mia.
He could see the surprise register on Mia’s face and he liked it. He’d had more fun with them in the past few hours than he’d had in his entire first semester with his dorm mates and the tennis team.
“So, “Little Miss Writing is my Strong Point,” are you going to help me with my papers so I don’t end up being totally annihilated by the famous red slash of death?” Schooner gave Mia his best megawatt smile.
Mia sneered back at him, “You’re going to have to do better than that, Pretty Boy.” And then she smiled, her freckle smattered nose, crinkling. She made Schooner’s heart smile — a feeling he didn’t easily recognize, but was surely enjoying.
He just looked at her, loving that she had called him on his shit. “Seriously, can you at least look them over before I turn them in.”
She nodded her head, “Yeah, of course. No problem. I’m not going to let my team mate look like a stupid jock,” she teased. “That would make us all look bad.” She motioned to Henry and Rosie who joined in on the “Bust on Schooner Session.”
Schooner knew in that instant that this is what he had been missing out on so far in his college experience. He thought back to his New Year’s Eve conversation with his mom, where he was so out of sorts. He knew something wasn’t quite right in his life (besides feeling railroaded into a predetermined future), something was missing. This was what was missing.
“Are you guys going to start reading and studying tonight? I’ve got tennis practice from 2-4 every afternoon, but I can meet after that.”
Henry turned to Mia and Rosalie, “What time do you guys want to eat dinner?”
“5:30?” Rosalie offered. Mia nodding her assent.
“Cool,” smiled Schooner, “that gives me time to get back from the Tennis Center, shower, change and grab my books. I’ll meet you guys for dinner and then we can go back to your dorm to work.”
And that was how it began and a new group of friends formed. Schooner was amazed at his immediate comfort level with this group. They were funny, smart and not afraid to bust on him. They were fun. He didn’t need to pretend with them. He could be Schooner and they actually liked him. It wasn’t work to fit in with them.
When Schooner hit the courts that afternoon and Coach Boland started putting them through their paces, he felt a confidence that surpassed his usual bravado. This confidence was coming from a new place. A place with which Schooner was not familiar, but really liked.
CHAPTER 11
The nightly ritual had begun. Meet for dinner and then head over to one of the study rooms in Mia, Henry and Rosie’s dorm. They would spend a few hours working in the study room; scanning the reference books, listening to tapes of the music, working on papers, batting around ideas. Their conversations were lively, punctuated by Rosie’s sarcasm and Mia’s quick wit. They’d often have to draw themselves back from off-topic tangents that would lead into fits of laughter. Schooner had never remembered laughing so hard in his life. His face would hurt, his gut muscles would hurt. He and Henry often played the straight men (no pun intended) to the girls and their antics. Schooner was actually surprised how at ease he was with his burgeoning friendship with Henry. Henry was just another guy — and that really came as a revelation to Schooner. He would forget about the gay thing and just enjoy his banter and discourse with Henry. And if he were to really think about it, Schooner was more at ease with Henry than he was with any of his teammates.
After a few hours in the study room, they would leave the protected enclave and move the discussion to Mia’s room. Mia’s roommate, Caroline, was also on the European capitals trip. The three friends would break out the bong (which Professor Stevens had predicted) and Schooner would just stick to beer. With training 4 hours a day, he knew getting high would be detrimental to peak performance and he did not want to lose his hard earned, coveted first string spot.
The group would listen to music and the conversation would just flow. Sometimes it centered on what they were learning and how they applied it to themselves and their worlds. Sometimes they played marathon poker tournaments. Sometimes they just opened up and shared with each other.
Henry’s first experience with another man happened when he was only nine. His mom’s younger cousin from Ohio was living with them in exchange for babysitting Henry and his little sister when their mother was at work. One of the cousin’s boyfriends had molested Henry and did so nightly under the pretense of helping him with his homework and putting him to sleep, while the cousin tended to Henry’s little sister. The other’s sat horrified, listening to the details of what happened to the 4th grader. Henry just looked at the friends he had shocked into silence.
“It’s ok,” he said. “I liked it.”
“But you were just a child. He took advantage of you.” Mia countered, horrified, “that was wrong.”
Henry casually blew it off with a shrug of his shoulders. “If it wasn’t h
im, it would’ve been someone else. At least he didn’t hurt me.”
Schooner wondered if the girls were thinking the same thing that he was — that this man had hurt Henry immeasurably. Henry actually thought he deserved it. Deserved to be abused and violated. Schooner felt deep sorrow for his new friend and the brute jock in him wanted to pull this guy’s nuts off and hit them around the court with his racquet. Schooner realized how protective he felt of Henry and this crew. They were his people.
Rosie broke the tension with a snorting laugh. The other three just looked at her questioningly.
“I was just thinking about one of my “early” sexual experiences.” She said, making quotation marks with her fingers at the word early. She continued to laugh, shaking her head, before she was able to gain control of herself enough to share the memory.
“Ok, so when I was little, I used to defy my mother all the time. I know that’s hard to imagine,” she laughed and was met with a chorus of “Oh yeah, really hard to imagine,” she continued. “So my mother used to put me up in my room to “think about what I had done” and told me that I could come out when I was “ready to apologize.” She stopped and laughed, “I’m actually surprised I’m out of the room now.” They all laughed. “So, I would go up, sit on my bed and stew. I usually had no idea what I had done wrong or why my mother had put me up there. Maybe she needed a break. I don’t know,” she paused and loaded herself a bong hit, lit it and inhaled. With the smoke still in her lungs, she continued, “So, I must’ve been about five years old,” she blew out the smoke and started to laugh. “My mother had put me up in my room one day and I got really bored and started checking out my toys. I had this magic wand. It was a wooden stick with a purple plastic star on one end filled with like water and glitter and a picture of a unicorn on it. I think it came with a My Little Pony.”
Schooner sat up abruptly from the big overstuffed throw pillow he was lounging against and grabbed Mia’s arm, practically spitting out his swig of beer, “Oh no, where is she going with this?” They all started to laugh.
“You are a bright, bright boy,” Rosie pointed at Schooner and continued, “so one day, I took off my frilly little pink and white panties. Do you believe she dressed me in frilly stuff? Lord knows why I’m so fucked up! Ok, back to the story. So, I took my panties off and started to masturbate with this magic wand. I remember masturbating with it and singing…La La La La La…”
Schooner, Henry and Mia were literally rolling on the floor laughing, all making hand motions and sing songing “LaLaLaLaLa.” Mia was pounding on the floor with her fists, her face planted in the carpeting and Schooner had his face buried in the back of her head, nuzzled into her hair, cracking up. When they sat up, he turned to Mia and said, “When is her birthday?” Motioning to Rosalie — which set off another round of laughter. “You’re going to be an easy one to shop for this year.”
When they all got regained control over their laughter, Rosie continued, “Ok, so picture this…”
“We are!” Henry interrupted and the laughter started again.
Through her laughter, Rosie continued, “So, I had no clue what I was doing, but I knew it felt good, so I started getting in trouble on purpose, just so I could get sent to my room and do this thing that felt so great. I guess I got away with it for a few weeks when my mother walked in during the middle of one of my sessions, saw the magic wand in me, freaked out and grabbed it.” Rosie pouted out her lower lip, “She took my magic wand away,” she sniffed.
“I got your magic wand right here for you, Baby.” Henry motioned to his crotch.
Rosie scoffed, “You might have a magic wand for him,” she motioned to Schooner, “but not for me.”
“Ummm, I can have fun with my own wand,” Schooner choked, blushing.
“I’ll bet you can!” Rosie teased and they all broke into another fit of laughter.
CHAPTER 12
The general consensus on campus was that no new food had been delivered to the dining hall for Interim and that the staff there was just recycling old food and using leftovers. The already questionable food quality seemed to degrade by the day — making dining during the regular semester seem like a Wolfgang Puck inspired meal (which it clearly was not).
Everyone was pissed and grumbling about how much their parents were paying for this high priced private college education and that they could at least get some decent food. How many days in a row were they going to be expected to eat “Chicken Surprise.”
Sitting at the next table from Schooner, Mia, Rosie and Henry were some of the football jocks from Schooner’s dorm. They were complaining loudly about the food and the one complaining the loudest was an offensive tackle known as Beast. Schooner realized he didn’t even know Beast’s real name, although he had lived in the same dorm with him since late August.
Fall semester, Beast had been rushing one of the jock fraternities. As part of his hazing, Beast spent one month, day and night, in a pink leotard and a pink lace tutu. He also was not allowed to shower for a month — or wash the leotard. Now while the leotard and tutu were a bit strange for Beast, not showering for extended periods of time was more the norm, than the exception. A few days into the hazing, Beast was odiferous. By the end of the month, it was hard to walk past him without gagging. Tables in the dining hall cleared, classroom desks were rearranged to one side of the room and his roommate, Vince, took up residence on a couch in the dorm’s lounge.
Beast was huge, 6’4” and 300 lbs. He had a head full of unkempt hair and a straggly beard. Not known for his eloquence or intellect, the joke around campus was that he would probably scare off small children and possibly farm animals.
“This food fucking sucks!” He proclaimed, loudly.
“Tell us something we don’t know.” Rosalie muttered and the four chuckled.
“We don’t have to take this!” His bellowing continued.
Beast then stood suddenly, pushing back the bench he was sitting on and causing everyone down the entire length of the bench to be jostled.
“I’m revolting!” He yelled on the top of his lungs.
“Actually, you’re disgusting.” Mia countered in a loud voice and the whole dining hall broke into laughter.
Beasts eyes enlarged and his nostrils flared, creating the visage of an insane escapee. “Bitch!” He bellowed, as he dove toward Mia. Schooner instinctively threw his body at Beast pushing him out of the way before he assaulted her full on. They both fell to the floor with a sickening thud. Rosie grabbed the food off of her tray and threw it at Beast and Henry followed. The rest of the jocks cleared off the benches to join in the mêlée and were met with hoards of flying food. Beast and Schooner were wrestling around on the food slick floor. Mia started to kick Beast, “Get the fuck off of him, you gross pig!” She wailed away on him, stabbing him hard in the lower back with her clogs.
The Campus Police arrived almost immediately and grabbed Beast off of Schooner, cuffing his hands behind his back. A second officer cuffed Schooner.
“Officer,” Mia pleaded, “he was just coming to my defense when that guy tried to jump me.” The officer looked Mia up and down (stopping momentarily on her very attractive rack), all 5’2” of her and then looked at Beast.
“He tried to jump you?” He asked, incredulously.
“Yes, he tried to attack me.”
“Did you provoke him?”
“I told him he was disgusting.” Mia’s chin was stuck up high in the air.
“Maybe you should come with us, too.”
Mia smiled sweetly at the Campus Police Officer and said, “Will you cuff me, as well?”
He choked out a “no” and Mia pouted at him, causing the officer to stammer and blush.
Schooner watched her with amusement and remembered his first impression of her in front of Brewster Hall, that devilish look that said, “Let’s be bad kids together.” Well, the devil is out in full force tonight, he thought.
She smiled at him and put her lips close to
his ear. “You look really hot in cuffs.” He could feel the heat rise in his face and in his jeans.
He stared at her and leaned close to her ear, where he hissed, “Now is not the time to give me a raging hard on, Mia.”
She backed away, an astonished smirk on her face and then she looked him square in the eyes, suddenly serious. She didn’t say a word and then silently leaned forward and kissed his cheek, softly. “Thank you for defending me tonight, Schooner.”
He sighed, feeling his heart melt. What was she doing to him?
An entourage of about 25 students trekked to the Campus Police station following Schooner, Mia and Beast. The statements from everyone were consistent. Beast went to physically attack Mia and Schooner jumped in to thwart the attack. The Campus Police were alarmed that a student the size of Beast had a hair trigger temper that did not preclude violence toward women. The guy was bad press waiting to happen.
Beast was not seen again until Spring semester.
CHAPTER 13
It was late by the time all of the paperwork was filled out and Mia and Schooner walked back together toward their dorms.
Mia left the officer with a wink, “I’m still bummed you didn’t have cuffs for me.” Schooner thought Mia’s dorm would be seeing some extra patrol these next few weeks.
“Let’s go, Mia before you start another riot,” he ushered her out of the campus police building. She smiled, his remark clearly pleasing her devil.
“Are you ok?” Mia asked, genuinely concerned. Schooner had a nasty cut on his cheek and some other scrapes.
“I’m fine,” he made light of it.
“I would tell you that I’d come back to your dorm and help you clean out those cuts, but I have a feeling I’m persona non grata there.”
“Yeah, probably not safe,” he agreed, “might not even be safe for me!”
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