Chapter 1

Monday, Aug. 13th, 8:35am

Most people in Central New York thought summer ended when the NY State Fair ended in the beginning of September. Any of the local community college students could tell you otherwise, as the school started classes a little past the middle of August.

Bill sighed as he turned off the engine of his beat-up 12 year old Oldsmobile. Looking at the expanding campus, with the new construction of the Applied Technologies Building, he felt both pride and sorrow for the school he worked for. The new building was going to be a wonder, providing training in everything from advanced computer aided automotive repair to architecture. With a two year degree, students could leap into the job market, or transfer to get their bachelor's.

However it was costing a small fortune to build, and sacrifices had to be made. His treasured Drama classes had been cut last year, forcing him to fall back on the two other loves of his life; English and computer graphic arts. With English, it was easy to get a few classes into the list, but impossible to get his required hours of teaching in - there were many, many english classes to be had at Onondaga Community College.

An opportunity in the graphic arts came up when the professor (everyone called him Harrison) who ran the computer aided graphic arts department (the only one on campus besides Bill who knew anything about it) moved to Ohio - his wife had been a Dean on the campus until all of the Deans' positions were cut last year partially due to the cost of that new building. Harrison's wife had applied for and received a position in Ohio similar to what she had done at OCC. Off they went, leaving a void in the graphic arts department. Bill had spoken to Harrison often; they were pretty good friends. Harrison knew Bill's situation, and convinced him to step up to the plate - take over what he had started. It took some convincing; Bill had dabbled in the computer graphic field out of fun.

Harrison showed him more with every available hour they had last spring, and into the summer until he had to leave for Ohio. He still wasn't convinced he had what it took; his art degree was only an Associates that he hadn't truly dusted off in ages. But to keep his full time status on campus, he hadn't a choice.

Sighing, he stepped out of his aging car that still was making noises even though he had removed the key from the ignition ... would have to see about getting a new one, maybe a loan through his credit union.

The Arts Department didn't receive a lot of respect on the campus; the department was in the Security/Maintenance Building that was a good distance away from the rest of the buildings, though you could see most of the campus past the trees from here. Students weren't allowed to park at the Security building either, and a common sight all winter long was to see the young artists struggling along against strong winds that grabbed at their large portfolios in a kite like fashion. One day we're going to lose a small student to the fierce winter winds of Central New York, Bill thought only half jokingly. The teachers, however, were allowed to park in the parking area against the Security building - ever giving, were those pissant security officers.

He entered the security building, nodding to the guard behind his plexiglass shielding and strolled down the narrow hallways. The building was a single floor, with only a couple of branching halls along the main corridor. The smell of pottery, charcoal, oils, paints and motor fluid from the Maintenance garage co-mingled to form an odd mixture. All of these substances carried through the air to varying degrees, doing damage to the collection of Macs that Bill looked at as he entered the room.

Turning the light on, he set down his aged faux leather briefcase and got to work readying the computers for the students who would be here on the following Monday.