STARTING OVER (37 page)

Cliff didn’t doubt that.  He had enough trouble getting it through the hoop.  Bouncing it out the window was a feat he could never replicate.

Frank, at five foot eight inches tall, shouldn’t have been much competition on a basketball court either.  But growing up in a large, male-dominated Italian family had made him a force to be reckoned with.  He tried harder, played longer and yelled louder than anyone else.  “Hey Stan,” he shouted out the window. “Can you toss the ball back up here?”

Stanley Freeman, an English major and self-acclaimed book nerd looked up at Frank and then across the potholes that were several feet wide to where the basketball was lying in the middle of the deepest one.  He knew he didn’t have the strength or accuracy to throw the ball back through the window.  Nor was he inclined to walk through the puddle to retrieve it.

“I’m on my way to the Hill,” Stan called back.  Everyone called the campus the Hill because the first dozen or so buildings built since the early part of the twentieth century were on a higher piece of ground compared to the rest of the town of Kent.

“Just throw me the ball,” Frank persisted.

Stan sighed and carefully inched his way between the small lakes to get the ball.  He turned and yelled up, “I’ll toss it up the stairs.”

Frank waited at the top of the stairs, and it wasn’t until the third throw that the muddy ball made it all the way to the second floor. “Thanks Stan.”

“We need another load of gravel dumped back here.  It’s a mess.”  Stan waved to Frank and then got into his car and left.

“Come on Frank, Let’s go.  It’s your out,” Fred called.

Nothing defined lake effect like the weather at Kent State, located about 30 miles south of the city of Cleveland which was on the south shore of Lake Erie.  A typical fall northeastern Ohio day could be hot, cold, sunny, rainy, snowy or even pelted with hail. Today rain poured down from the heavy, dark gray sky where clouds bumped against other clouds, rolling around in different directions.  After a few minutes the rains always created a large muddy mess in the parking lot between the Phi Psi Kappa coach house and the main fraternity house.  There was never enough gravel to avoid walking through mud.

The basketball game continued and the noise could be heard well out into the yard.  Men’s voices combined with an occasional female scream and a variety of profanity rolled through the open windows.  The north end windows had been broken out by any number of games or other events over the years.  The south end windows remained intact as that was the party room and where weekly chapter meetings were held.  The volume of the meetings often exceeded that of any basketball game.  On more than one occasion the Kent city police had walked up the stairs on a Monday night to quiet the lively discourse. That was also the area used by the brothers who needed table space for large projects ranging from architecture to aerospace to photography.

Cliff was taking advantage of the space now as he worked on his final junior class project of a photo layout, trying to ignore the noise and the girlfriends, pin mates and fiancées of his brothers who wandered over after dropping out of the game.  The girls rarely lasted long in the games because the guys played for blood, and it took only a broken fingernail or a knock to the floor to discourage all but the most determined young woman.  Besides, the girls found Cliff’s photos more interesting.

The basketball again bounced his way and rolled under the table on which he had carefully placed his photos.

“Throw it back!”  The plea came across the floor from one of the players.  “And keep it in the building.”

Cliff yelled back, “This is my last time guys. I have to get this done today.  Its 40% of last spring’s course grade that I got an incomplete on.”  Cliff picked up the ball and quickly carried it over to the other side and tossed it back yelling “I’m not officially a senior until I get it turned in. And they’re going to draft my ass if I don’t get a passing grade this week.”  He knew journalism wasn’t exactly one of the anointed protected degrees and career choices like teaching and engineering, so keeping his class credits above minimum was critical.

Soon the yelling, dribbling and clapping died down and the players ran down the steps.  First out the door to run through the rain and mud to the rear porch was Ted McCoy, a tall muscular blond-haired man with a very bloody nose. “I think you broke my fucking nose, Pucci,” he yelled.  “My dad’s law firm is taking pictures next weekend.  He’s going to kill me.”

“Pictures?”
  Frank couldn’t imagine such a stupid reason to be concerned.  He still had the remnants of a black eye he had gotten when his brother had cold cocked him last week.  He kept pace with Ted as they walked briskly across the parking lot in the cold rain.

“
Senior year all the partner’s sons who are graduating get their picture taken for the wall of shame,” Ted answered somewhat unenthusiastically.

Frank had to ask, “What happens if you don’t get your law degree?  Hell, Kent doesn’t even offer a law school.”

They reached the dryness of the back porch where they paused for a moment to drain off before entering the kitchen.

“Haven’t you heard?  I’m the fifth generation and my father is the senior partner.  He’s still pissed I didn’t go to Penn State on a football scholarship. I don’t have a choice but to become a lawyer and join his firm.”

Frank considered Ted’s plight for a moment. He always thought Ted was an interesting study in 1960s’ materialism.  Locked into his parents’ view of his future to join the family law practice, Ted also had what was one the prettiest girlfriends back home in Pittsburg.  Country club-raised, Elaine was, unfortunately, only sixteen.  But she had the blessings of both sets of parents who were determined to co-mingle their families.  So Ted was forced to miss college social life by driving home almost every weekend and all holidays.

Next to cross the growing mud lake was Ben Martin and Fred Thomas.  They bolted up the steps and stopped next to Frank and Ted who was still trying to staunch the flow of blood from his nose.

Fred studied Ted and chuckled.  “Now your nose looks sort of like mine.”  Fred knew he wasn’t a pretty boy, but it hadn’t affected his self-confidence.  Back home in Aurora, he had had the distinction of being both smart and popular.

“Not funny,” Ted muttered.  “I’m going to go to Pill Hill and get this looked at.”  Pill Hill being the on-campus infirmary, it was the place to go for free medical help.

“You’ll probably catch a terminal disease in there,” Frank quipped.  “Last quarter Pill Hill was under investigation by the health department.”

Kevin Nash and his girlfriend Donna sloshed up onto the porch as the rain had grown even heavier.  “Christ Ted, what the hell happened to you face?”  Kevin wrinkled his nose and stepped back as if Ted’s sudden ugliness was contagious.

“Kevin, why don’t you re-break Ted’s nose and get it straightened up?” Frank suggested.

“Kevin?” scoffed Ted.

“Why not?  He’s studying to be a chiropractor.  What difference does it make?  How different could it be?  Adjust a back, a shoulder . . . a nose?”  It made perfect sense to Frank.

“I wouldn’t do that no matter how polluted I was,” insisted Ted.  “Anyone raiding the house refrigerator has seen what Kevin does to his lab partners.”

“You’re just jealous because I get to cut things up,” answered Kevin. “And besides, I flunked out of cat anatomy, so I have to retake it this year.  Plus I get to tear apart a rat next quarter.”

Frank moved his hands to sweep across the sky as if reading a newspaper headline. “Dr. Kevin Nash leads the way in the development of a rat chiropractor program at Kent State.  Rats with back problems all over the world are rejoicing.  Members of The Weathermen rush to protest this new breakthrough discovery.”

Everyone laughed except Ted who was still pinching his nose to stop the blood.  The comment was even funnier because The Weathermen were a small group of leftist college student radicals that had gained a foothold on the Kent Campus known for their daily protests about any and everything, but particularly the Vietnam War.

“I’ll drive you there,” Donna volunteered.  “I’ve got to go anyway.  I’ve got a volleyball game tonight.”  She turned to Kevin.  “You
coming?”

Kevin shook his head.  “Nah, I’m staying in tonight.”

Donna didn’t try to hide her look of disappointment.  She was majoring in physical education and was a good match for Kevin except that Kevin had fallen two years behind in his classes.  This and other evidences of what she perceived was his lack of initiative had, over the two years of their on-again/off-again relationship been the source of several of Donna’s attempts to break up.  She felt that Kevin never treated her like he loved her except when he was lonely.  And he was so moody.  His emotions spiked up or plummeted, depending on how things went at the house or at home or the weather or the way his hair looked or a hundred other variables.  But whenever they broke up, he had always managed to talk her into coming back to him.

Don was one of the last out of the coach house along with Sam Douglas and Susie Parks, Barry Smith and his girlfriend, Carolyn, and Mike Anderson.  Their trip across the thirty yards from coach house was less hurried as the downpour had slowed to a drizzle.

“It’s good to have you playing ball again with us, Sam,” Don said.

“I figured Mom was out at one of her afternoon teas, so the coast was clear.”

Everyone still remembered Sam’s run-in with the house mother, Mabel Brown two years earlier.

The third floor, at the time, had been used as one large dorm room.  It wasn’t heated and the practice had been to use electric blankets.  When the electric blankets had become worn, electric sparks could be seen flashing in the dark of night whenever the bed’s occupant would roll over.  That one quarter saw more sparks coming from Sam’s bed than a small town Fourth of July fireworks show.

None of the brothers really minded that Susie had sneaked in and slept in that third floor dorm room with Sam . . . and twenty five other men.  It was only for one cold winter quarter when she had lost her lease for making too much noise.  But when Mom found out, all hell broke loose.

There was a long list of behaviors that violated the house, college and fraternity rules.  Alcohol and girls sleeping over were the most frequently challenged, but seldom broken.  And while Mom never shared the information, she had never quite forgiven Sam for the position he had put her in.

“Yeah Mom is really big on the answers to her questions being truthful more than the acts themselves,” Frank said and everyone nodded in agreement.

Sam knew he should have owned up to it as soon as she found out.  The consequences were that he was now sharing a trailer in a lot across from the campus with Susie.  He was missed at the house, but their trailer had become the location of some wild parties and as a hang-out spot between classes.

The last couple to arrive, Barry and Carolyn, was sort of the accidental couple of the fraternity.  She was considerably taller than Barry and inch-for-inch more serious. If there was a negative point of view, Carolyn had it and could bring any party to a screeching halt.  Barry, on the other hand, was the life of the party and would grab his guitar and lead a sing along or parody of a popular tune that he made up as he went along.  From week to week no one knew if they were still together or not, and with Barry sharing a room with Kevin, few guys hung out there if they didn’t have to.  Since neither of them had anything positive to say about the females in their lives, it was pretty painful to listen to them bitch and moan.

Frank stomped the excess water off his shoes.  “We’re going to be late to our registration.”  That reminder sent most of the brothers charging into the house through the kitchen door while Sam and Susie headed toward Sam’s VW bus.

“Come on Ted,” Donna said.

“Can you drop me off on campus?” Carolyn asked.  “I don’t want to wait for Barry.”

Donna agreed and they all ran through the increased downpour to Donna’s Dodge Dart.

*   *   *

The traffic on Main Street heading east toward the campus was unusually heavy as hundreds of students were still moving into both the on-campus and off-campus housing.  Donna kept adjusting the mirrors as they left the house.  Kevin had borrowed her car that morning, and he had reset them all to fit him.  The drive that should have taken fifteen minutes took closer to thirty minutes.  The criminal justice and law enforcement majors standing at each intersection, stopping every car and giving directions wasn’t that helpful if you already knew where you were going.

“So how are things with Kevin?  Carolyn asked as she glanced over at Donna.  The two girls seemed to have forgotten Ted was in the back seat.

“Fine.  Why do you ask?”

“No reason really.”

Donna slowly crept along the street.

“I was surprised to hear Kevin has to do his cat anatomy class over again,” Carolyn continued.  “Didn’t he have a tough time with it last spring?”

“No shit, he did.  And to make it worse, the head of the biology department is teaching it this quarter.”

“Weren’t you ready to break up with him last spring? 
Over his grades or his classes?”

Donna thought for a minute and readjusted the mirror on the windshield.  “I wish he would get out of my blind spot.”  Donna hit the brakes and then resumed speed as the car on her right passed.  “Ready?  I did break it off.  We didn’t see each other over the summer except once.”