Waves and Light: Opposites Attract Series

by Elizabeth J. Merrill

  “Battle Hall, the first stand alone library on campus, was designed by Cass Gilbert, who went on to design the Woolworth Building in New York. When he visited Austin, he thought it felt Mediterranean, and limestone walls and red tile roofs evoked the Mediterranean. He also put blue friezes on the buildings. For next sixty years, all the buildings on campus had red tile roofs, limestone walls, and blue friezes, but the buildings seemed to get clunkier and cheesier as time went on. Waggoner, on the east side of the plaza, almost looks like a caricature of the Mediterranean look which is a bit ironic since it houses the classics department. ” I hadn’t realized how stuffed full of little architecture facts I was.

  Dolores sighed, “With the live oaks and moonlight bouncing off the limestone, it surely makes for a beautiful campus.”

  I looked at B.D. and shrugged, “I guess campus is beautiful. I’ve seen it so much, I don’t notice anymore. I get more excited about RLM because of all the great work I know that goes on there.”

  “I understand that, but maybe I’m too new. I still think campus is beautiful especially the South Mall,” B.D. added.

  I held her hand as we walked up the steps into the main building. In the relative privacy of the lobby, I wrapped my arms around B.D. and discretely kissed her head. “I didn’t know you had already added to Dr. Hrezecovic’s work.”

  “Added is a bit strong for what I contributed. I perfected the strobe rate to get more and better data to inform the robot. The basic idea to use light waves is the true innovation. I just tweaked it a bit. She made a bigger deal out of my work than it really warranted. She’s always been generous about giving others credit. She also pointed out what Trent and Amy have done too.”

  “You’re too modest B.D. Trent and Amy are graduate students—they should contribute. Furthermore, she didn’t practically drool over their contributions like she did your work.”

  “You were listening with rose colored hearing aids or something. We’ve all added to her work, although apparently she already submitted a brief proposal for us to present at a conference in Salamanca in March. She could take all the credit, but she wants to give me the credit for the tweak, so she wants me to go. Amanda’s so nice.”

  “Amanda?” I asked.

  “Dr. Hrezecovic. She asked me to call her by her first name,” B.D. answered trying to sound nonchalant.

  “AMANDA is nice. Lots of professors wouldn’t think twice about appropriating the work that their students did in their lab, but clearly she is ethical. I’m glad you got the position in her lab.”

  “Me too.” I had wanted that position, but I never would been able to tweak or otherwise contribute to Dr. Hrezecovic’s work. I would have accurately and painstakingly conducted the experiments she wanted. And I would have given her clear reports—that’s all anyone could ask an undergraduate to do, but B.D. has the potential to change life as we know it just like Dr. Hrezecovic, maybe more than Dr. Hrezecovic. I was glad that B.D. had gotten the position. She deserved it.

  The door opened and the tour guide came in with the other part of the group which unfortunately included Caldwell and Tiffany.

  Naturally Caldwell walked up and stuck his hand out so I would be forced to shake it, and he could demonstrate his superior manliness by squeezing the crap out of my hand. “Slade,” he called me by last name further demonstrating manliness. “Caldwell” I replied trying to retrieve my hand. Tiffany waved at me and giggled. I nodded back.

  “Do you think he’ll show us where Whitman was standing when he took out all those people?” Caldwell asked with a morbid gleam in his eye.

  “I doubt it. Besides, I don’t think he stood in one place, but walked around the tower shooting because I know he got people in every direction,” answered B.D.

  As we entered the elevator Caldwell turned to B.D. “Congratulations on the shout out from Dr. Hrezecovic. That’s impressive. Remind me now. You’re a junior?” he asked.

  “Sophomore,” she answered back. I could see the simultaneous emotions of relief and terror that flashed across Caldwell’s face as he realized that he wouldn’t have to compete head-to-head for funding with B.D. because she was two years behind him, but that he would probably have to compete with her eventually once she got out of graduate school. I couldn’t help it. I felt a little smug.

  “Wow! I’m surprised she’d even hire a sophomore into her lab,” he suggested.

  “She did, although I guess technically I’m a junior because I placed out of a lot courses. It’s my second year though.”

  “Great,”he answered with an undertone of sarcasm.

  The elevator doors opened and we filed out of the elevator and up the final flight of steps to the viewing platform that wrapped the tower just below the clock. As people topped the stairs and pushed open the doors, we heard gasps and “ooohs and awws.” B.D. and I gasped when we saw the view too. It was spectacular. You could see all of downtown from the south side of the tower. The Capitol was silhouetted against the modern high rises through which you could still see flashes of the river. It was a fantastic view, but B.D. and I continued west around the platform so that more people could fit. The west view was almost as impressive. The edge of the hill country silhouetted against the night sky punctuated with the red flash of transmission towers. We stood, silent, taking in the hills. B. D. shivered. I opened my suit coat and tucked her into my front and wrapped the coat around her. “Better?” I asked.

  She nodded and hummed, “mmmmhhm.”

  We stayed there wrapped together for a few more minutes, but a few people wandered around the corner, so we shifted so that she remained tucked to my side inside my jacket and strolled around the corner to face north. That side revealed all the old, north Austin residential neighborhoods: Hyde Park, Crestview, Coronado Hills, Allandale, Rosedale, and parts further north still. She twisted in front of me, and I wrapped my arms around her middle.

  B.D. sighed and exclaimed. “I love these fifties neighborhoods—full of three bedroom, ranch houses—the perfect size for the new family in the new, post-war economy.”

  “What do you mean the perfect size?”

  “These houses all have three bedrooms—one for the parents, one for the girls, one for the boys. They all have a dining area between the kitchen and the living room. Just big enough. A few have a tiny master bathroom and a formal living room—the height of luxury—but most of them are just the right size not over-sized with media rooms, workout rooms, formal living and dining rooms, game rooms, and family rooms. These houses are big enough.”

  “You don’t want a giant house?”

  “No,” she replied. “Big houses just cause problems. I want a house that is just big enough.”

  “Good to know,” I chuckled.

  She sighed then twisted to my side again, and we continued around the corner to view the Blackland Prairie laid out before us. This side contained old Austin—the oldest houses in Austin-- neighborhoods of old East Austin and Montopolis edged by more postwar neighborhoods like Cherrywood, Wilshire Woods, and Delwood.

  “This side of Austin is where I’d like to live most—despite the perfectly sized houses. You can feel the history of the city when you look East.”

  Once again, we stared out over Austin wrapped around each other. I got an overwhelming urge to kiss her, so I backed-up, dragging her with me. When I crashed into the tower, I spun her around to face me. I pulled her shawl up over our heads creating a shimmering tent, a bubble of privacy, protection, and warmth. I took her face in my hands, stared into her eyes for a time—minutes, hours, I couldn’t be sure. Finally, I kissed her—a deep, profound, satisfying kiss that caressed her mouth, but didn’t plunder it. Our tongues met, but didn’t war. We remained in our cocoon enjoying one another’s mouths and bodies without using them. We might have stayed there all night, but Hunter broke the spell by shouting, “Hey you two, get a room.”

  B.D. rolled her eyes. I lowered the shawl and turned to face Hunter and Tiffany. “Hi.”


  “If ya’ll are going to engage in the hot and steamy, you need to get a room. Don’t want to give one of the old geezers a heart attack,” Hunter continued.

  “Pretty sure all of these “old geezers” have done plenty of kissing back in the day,” I got an idea, “but you’re right. We’ll get a room.” I grabbed B.D.s hand and turned the corner back to the front.

  “We’re taking off,” I yelled at the tour guide while hitting the elevator button which immediately popped open.

  “I’m really not supposed to let you wander around unsupervised,” he answered.

  “We’ll head straight out the door, won’t disturb anything,” I yelled his way as I hit the lobby button.

  B.D.

  David led me West toward the drag and between two buildings on the West Mall to an arched colonnade. We climbed the steps to the colonnade and as we approached the top step one of the most beautiful courtyards I’ve ever seen came into view. It was rectangular and bounded on three sides by the limestone walls of Sutton Hall. Most of the courtyard was grass divided by limestone stepping stones. In the middle of the courtyard, a rectangular fountain—the same scale as the courtyard—shot a stream of water into the air. The courtyard was bounded by limestone, but the fountain itself was lined with blue and white Moroccan tiles. Moonlight and starlight flashed off the limestone and water making the space almost as bright as the day. We followed the flagstones to a Luytens bench facing the fountain. We just sat on the bench huddled around one another watching the courtyard glow with light from the overly bright moon. After a few minutes, David bent his head to give me a deep, scorching kiss; occasionally he’d shift his hips or tilt his head the opposite way without ever breaking the kiss. Eventually, he slowly broke the kiss to stare in my eyes.

  “Bambi Delilah..”

  I started to glare.

  “B.D. you’re so good.”

  “You too.”

  “No, no I’m not. I’m not good or smart or talented like you are.”

  “Yes,” I protested. “Yes, you are. What is this about?”

  “I was just thinking that I’m not….I’m not …..That I don’t deserve you.”

  “Well I deserve you.”

  He smiled, “And a whole lot more.”

  “You give me everything I need.”

  “Not really,” he answered a bit ruefully, “but I don’t want to talk about this now. Let’s talk after the break.”

  “Sure, or tomorrow. I’m not leaving. I’ll help pack up the tutoring center then we’re driving to Houston, together, right?” I asked.

  “Right, we’ll do kitschy, Christmas things in Houston. Hey, tomorrow night let’s check out the Zilker Park Christmas Tree.”

  I clapped and would have jumped up and down, but we were sitting. “Yeah, I’ve never been. Can we spin beneath it?” I chortled.

  “Until you’re sick,” he answered with a maniacal grin.

  Clapping and giggling, I agreed. “I can’t wait.”

  “For now, let’s head home.”

  I nodded and hopped off the bench. David tucked me into his side underneath his jacket, and we trudged home.

  Chapter Twenty

  David

  The clock read 5:52, but I decided to give it up and get out of bed even though I didn’t need to be anywhere. Apparently three short months of sleeping with B.D. had broken my lifetime habit of sleeping alone. I had hoped that my comfy Queen-sized bed would be so much more comfortable than sleeping with B.D. in a narrow, dorm-room bed, that I wouldn’t miss her in my sleep. I was wrong. Maybe she could sneak over here a few nights, but that was probably a bad idea. I just needed to get used to sleeping alone again. I probably should have already broken up with her, but I didn’t want to ruin Christmas. I already felt bad enough about hurting her at all. In the long run though, she’d see. She’d meet some great physics-God in graduate school and be glad I cut her loose. I wasn’t long-term relationship material anyway. It was part of my genetic make-up. Still I could ease into life without B.D. slowly, during the Christmas break. I rubbed my sleep-deprived eyes.

  Perhaps she’d take a nap with me this afternoon.

  We were supposed to meet for lunch and then come back here for some alone time. She had errands to run with her Mom and sister this morning, and I was going to start on the new project for Hurricane games. I didn’t much feel like working on it right now, but the project itself was cool—in the grisly, explosive way that multi-player M rated games usually were. I was supposed to program a random explosion in which a building exploded and stuff flew out. They gave me a list of the stuff that might blow up with the build. Most of the stuff was typical like chairs, desks, computers, lab beakers, books, but occasionally the explosion might throw up bodies or…body parts. So first I had to figure out how a beaker would fly through the air or an arm or head. Then I needed to program those trajectories. I rubbed my hands together in anticipation. It did my black, violent, gaming heart good to imagine it. I got up and got to work.

  B.D.

  Mom, Veronica, and I had decided to brave the crowds to do some last minute shopping. Veronica had insisted we come to the Galleria even though I knew we couldn’t afford anything here. I think she just wanted to imagine that she had her old life back in which we could go to the Mall and drop $1,000 and not think anything about it. Veronica stopped in front of Charlotte Russe and stared longingly at the displays.

  “It’s not fair. When we had money, I had to go to private school and wear that horrid uniform. Now that I’m at a school without a uniform, we don’t have the money to buy cute school clothes,” Veronica whined.

  Mom ignored her, but I couldn’t let it go. “First off, you have a sea of cute clothes. [I held up one finger.]Seriously, you could fill a pool with your clothes. Not only is your closet full of clothes, but you have boxes of clothes under your bed, and my closet is full of your clothes. Just because most of them are more than a year old doesn’t mean they aren’t gorgeous. In fact, you should probably go through your clothing and donate most of it to charity and still look fabulous in a different outfit every day. Secondly, [I held up the second finger for emphasis.] we’re supposed to be shopping for each other, and I wouldn’t be caught dead in something from Charlotte Russe. And it’s not very kindergarten friendly either. Finally, [I flashed finger three.]you always look like you stepped out of the pages of Seventeen. You don’t need more “looks.”

  Mom stepped between us and interjected. “It’s hard to get someone something for Christmas when they’re shopping right next to you. Let’s split up and meet at the food court at 1pm.”

  I nodded in agreement. I loved Veronica, but sometimes I couldn’t stand to be around her. “Sounds like a plan. Remember, I’m supposed to meet David there at 1pm. We can eat together.”

  “Fine,” Veronica stomped away.

  “See you soon, honey,” Mom waved at me as she marched off with a purpose towards Nordstrom's.

  I wandered towards Macy’s until Veronica and Mom were out of sight, then I snuck back to Charlotte Russe to buy the navy chrysanthemum dress Veronica had been eying in the display. I had a little extra cash, and Veronica could show the dress off at school.

  Once I’d snagged Veronica’s gift, I went into Vera Bradley and got Mom a snazzy lunch bag. She didn’t like packing lunch, but she might like it better if she could pack it into a Vera Bradley lunch bag.

  And then I wandered the mall looking for something for David. Men were so difficult to shop for. You couldn’t get them something that they knew they wanted because they would just buy it, before you got the chance. To complicate matters, David already had an unparalleled wardrobe connection, so I couldn’t get him clothes. I looked over the displays at Macy’s. I played with kitchen gadgets at Crate and Barrel; it seemed a bit inappropriate to get a kitchen gadget for someone who didn’t cook, although they had some cool stuff. I inhaled the scent of jasmine tea at Tevana. Maybe I could get him a fancy teapot, but he didn’t really like tea. I liked
tea, and he drank it for me. I aimlessly walked the mall with less focus than a mall walker. I rode the escalator upstairs, and I saw the perfect gift come into focus as I rose up the escalator—a Mont Blanc pen! Light shone on it creating a halo around it. I’m pretty sure I heard angels sing when I topped the stairs. I could just imagine him whipping the pen out to sign his first apartment lease or employment contract. A Mont Blanc pen was something that screamed David like his Armani suit and Ferragamo shoes. I had saved up emergency money from my summer waitressing job, but now that we could handle emergencies a bit better, I knew in my heart David needed a fancy pen.

  Before I headed to the food court, I folded the Charlotte Russe bag and hid it and the dress under Mom’s Vera Bradley lunch bag. Veronica would be surprised Christmas morning. I also tucked David’s pen into the Vera Bradley bag.

  As I strolled up to the food court, I was glad I had already hidden David’s gift because he was waiting for me already. He looked tired and nervous, but broke into a smile when he saw me walk up. He wrapped his arms around me and buried his face into my neck. He held me a bit longer than normal, and it felt like he was sniffing my neck. I enjoyed the attention, but pulled away when I noticed a mom with two tween daughters staring. He still managed to give me a peck on the cheek, and the tension I had sensed in him seemed to dissipate a little.

  “Up for greasy Chinese?” I asked enthusiastically.

  “Sure, I love poorly appropriated Asian food,” he replied a bit too brightly.

  We stood in line scanning the menu board and pans of food behind the counter. David bounced on his feet anxiously. When we got to the front, we ordered, and the server slapped our food onto Styrofoam plates and handed them over. David paid before I could even get my money out. We sat down and started to eat, but David continued to bounce his knee up and down. Mom and Veronica walked up and David started to rise, but Mom waved him off.