Chapter 2

Monday was busy because I needed to get the vehicle registered and insured. I actually had to insure it before registering it. The insurance wasn’t that much since it was through the farm bureau. The state registration was almost as much, but it was a one-time fee with annual renewal.

Burt and I moved the stock from Mrs. Snyder’s barnyard to ours. I used her tractor and manure spreader to clean her barn area where the stock had been and spread the manure in the fields. I spread some straw in the pens and the loafing shed where the animals normally stayed at night.

I cleaned her chicken house and spread the chicken manure on the garden area. It would need plowing and disking again before planting, but some of the chores were done for her. The sweet lady always wanted to spend some extra time with me before I went home. We sat at her kitchen table and sipped some of her deceased husband’s special liquor. I made her supper a couple of times so that I knew she would eat after drinking a glass of the special stuff. I brought her to the house to visit with Happy, Sis, and her babies.

I was ready to begin school in the middle of the school year, January. I was to arrive and sign in at the dorm by one in the afternoon on the Saturday before the school semester began. I arrived on Thursday so that I could make sure my registration was correct and I had all the books I would need. I had everything I needed for my room, and discovered that I shared a room with someone since I was a freshman or sophomore. I bought all the books listed on the papers I was given, and used a campus map to check all the buildings and then made a route to the buildings in the order I would be going to them. I felt ready.

The cafeteria wasn’t bad, the food was decent, and you could get your fill. There were several cafeterias around campus, but the one closest to my dorm was a good one.

I was reading a Poli-Sci text when my roommate showed up. He had been in school since August and felt he knew everything that was important. He lectured me the entire time he brought his junk in and had it spread throughout the room. I asked him, “Can I help you get your personal stuff in your closet or under your bed?”

He jumped up and stood over me as I sat on my bunk, “I’ll put my shit wherever I want, and I don’t want to hear anything else from you. Now get the fuck out of here while I use this room the way I want.”

I stood and noted he was at least four inches taller than me and was probably fifty pounds heavier. I nicely said, “Just so we understand each other. We’re roommates and that means half of the room is yours, and half of the room is mine. Stay on your half and we’ll be fine.”

The guy was stupid and rushed me with his arms spread like some idiot on the wrestling shows on TV. I gave him an uppercut that sent him back onto his bunk where he slid down and was out of it on the floor. Oops.

I checked the guy and he had a pulse. I grabbed one of my unneeded hand towels and ran to the bathroom to soak it in cold water. I placed it on the back of his neck and massaged his shoulders until he finally began coming around.

The kid looked up at me and said, “Who hit me. It sure couldn’t have been you. You’re a little fucker and I know I’ll kick your ass from here to the next building. Pull me up and I’ll show you what I mean, asshole.”

I went over to my chair on my side of the table we would use to study and sat down. “I don’t even know your name yet, and I’m sure you don’t know mine. Let’s introduce ourselves before you become a nightmare for me. My name is Bernard Beck, but all my friends call me Barney. I see that your name is Scott, but no last name. How about we start fresh/”

“Who in the fuck do you think you’re talking to? The only reason I’m sharing a room is because I’m a freshman. I’ll be in a room by myself and probably in one of the upperclassman rooms next year. I’m the next football quarterback for this school, so I’m important and you’re shit. I’d find a highway overpass to live under until this semester is over if I were you.”

I looked at the guy, “Sad to say, but I’m not shit, and I’ll be your roommate for this semester. Go see the floor resident if you want to move. I want to read this text, so either shut up or leave.”

The guy went crazy. He went out into the hallway and yelled, “Anyone want to see a sacrifice to the gods of the hicks, I’m about to destroy a Barney Beck. Come one, come all, and watch the blood bath.”

This wasn’t good. The guy was really going to try to fight me. I know nothing about fighting, but I do know how to defend myself.

Scott stood at the door and hollered at me, “Come out here and let me show you how to take a punch. I’m going hurt you so bad that you won’t go to class for a month.”

I stood and watched him as he was holding something in a hand behind his back. I said, “How about going out into the hallway so that I can have a clear shot at smacking you in the nose. I know you have something in your hand behind your back and I only have my hands. You’re at least three inches taller than I am, and you’re sort of a fat slob who weighs over fifty pounds more than me.”

That did it and he brought his hand around with what looked like a fire extinguisher in it. I ducked the swing and sunk my fist into his gut. The look on his face was very pleasing. I yanked the fire extinguisher from his grasp and tossed it down the hall. Scott was on his knees throwing up, but recovering rapidly. He stood up and said, “I think you’ve done that to me twice. You die this time.”

Scott ran at me with his arms spread, but I ducked and turned in time to put my foot on his butt and shove him into the corner of a door jamb. Now that hurt.

He came up with blood on his forehead and running from his nose. He yelled, “I’m going to kill you, you motherfucker. You’re dead.”

The floor counselor and two city police assigned to the campus came into the midst of the group watching the show. Scott hollered, “Arrest that motherfucker. He wouldn’t hold still while I beat him down. Look what he’s done to me. My nose is all out of shape and I’ve puked all over myself. Put that son of a bitch in jail. You know who I am, so you better do it.”

One of the campus police officers asked me, “What started this?”

“I was in the room when Scott came in, spread his stuff all around the room, and told me to get my shit out of the way so he could put his anywhere he wanted to. I asked him to keep his personal stuff on his side of the room, and he went off on me. He became more violent until he was hollering for me to come out to the hallway so that he could teach me a lesson. He tried to hit me with the fire extinguisher that is probably still lying in the hall. I kept redirecting his rushes, and the last one sent him into the door jamb.”

The policeman looked at my hands and then began questioning the other dorm residents as to what they saw. They all said that I was trying to resolve the problem without physical violence, but Scott kept escalating the problem.

The campus police had a problem. They had to separate us in some way and didn’t know how. Scott was still hollering that he was going to kill me and that the police needed to let him get the job done. He said that they could hold me while he beat me to death. None of that sounded good to me.

The police finally asked me if I would consent to staying in an off campus room for the night. I didn’t see a problem with that, so I went to get my coat and the book I was reading and followed the police out of the building.

The two men took me to the Columbia City Police Department and put me in their holding cell. The problem was they took all my identification, my belt, my shoelaces, my coat, and my book. I told them that I wasn’t the problem but the victim of Scott whoever he was. I was told to shut up and be quiet.

No one knew what I was being held for Monday morning, so they wouldn’t let me out until they found out why I was in the holding cell. I was missing my first classes at the university and becoming very ill. I was somehow forgotten for breakfast and then lunch. A police officer came to unlock the door about two in the afternoon, and said I was free to go. I asked for my shoelaces, belt, book, coat, and my wallet with my identification. The officer said, “Get the fuck out of here. You’ve caused enough trouble.”

I asked to see his supervisor. He pulled his billy club out and said, “I’ve told you to get out of here. You’ll not be able to leave if you don’t get.”

The gods were watching over me when a guy with a bunch of metal on his collar asked, “What’s going on here? Tell me why you are threatening this man.”

The officer couldn’t get anything out, so the man asked me, “Why are you here?”

I told the guy the whole story. He acted embarrassed and said, “Come with me and I’ll see if I can find your personal effects.” He reached over and tore the badge from the shirt of the guy who had come to let me out. He said, “Go see your Sergeant to find out if you still have a job.”

The man took me to the front of the building and had officers running all over the looking for my belt, shoelaces, book, coat, and wallet. Everything began showing up and my wallet finally came. I looked inside and said, “Ah, there was a little over a hundred and fifty dollars in the wallet when they took it from me. That was money for my last lab books. I need that.”

The officer with the metal on his collars told the duty man at the front desk that he wanted every man on duty the night before to be in the conference room within thirty minutes. He looked at me and said, “So you’re the guy who Scott, the infamous quarterback, is going to kill. I think you might need an escort to go back to your room. I’ll take you there and also to the dean of the school so that you won’t be charged with being absent. I’m thinking this is going to get worse, so stay with me.”

The man made some calls and we went to the conference room where all the officers were lined up. I was asked to pick out the men who brought me in and they were easy. I said their two names and pointed at them. I usually remember everything in detail, and it was easy to pick them out. They were asked about the money from my wallet, and one guy was acting guilty.

I told the police officer in charge, “It’s easy to know my money because I put it in the wallet with the corner creased to fit. The bills should still have the crease. There was a hundred, three twenties, a five, and a one.”

The two men had to show their wallets, and one of the men had a hundred and two twenties with the corners creased. The man became belligerent, and said, “This country boy from the sticks don’t mean shit. He fucked with the new quarterback. Send him back to the country.”

The officer said, “You still owe this man another twenty, a five, and a single. How about staying in jail until you repay him? You other men book him for theft, and put him in the same cell Mr. Beck was in.”

“Come with me, Mr. Beck. Let’s go see your room and maybe your roommate.”

That officer had another officer drive us to the campus and straight to the dorm. I could smell the cafeteria and wished that I could go eat. We went to the third floor and to my room. The door was torn off the jamb and you could see that one side of the room was totally torn apart. All my books were torn apart and my clothes were in shreds. My good Sunday suit was torn up, with my good shoes cut open with a knife. The small radio that I enjoyed was now smashed into tiny pieces.

The officer told the other officer with us, “Go get your camera and come back to photograph this room. I’m calling the campus police to find out what they’ve done.”

Someone had pissed on my bed, and there was human shit spread all over my new sheets and pillow. The place made me ill and I walked out. I was standing on the other side of the hall when Scott came in and began yelling at the officer. “It’s about time someone came to see what kind of pig this Beck guy is. Look what he’s done to my face. I have broken collar bone, a broken nose and have lost a tooth. The asshole sucker punched me. Just look at this pig sty.”

I walked to the doorway, and softly said, “Why would you tear up all my clothes and my books? You tore up over four hundred dollars worth of books. Why would you do that?”

Scott spun and around, and said, “Now I’m going to kill you, you motherfucker. The cops are going to watch me cut you up for catfish bait. No one does what you did to me.”

Scott reached for his back pocket and came out with a good size Buck knife. He flicked the blade out and was coming for me. I had my book in my hand and swatted the knife away. The officer was so surprised that he was frozen while watching what was happening. Scott lunged to get the knife, but I stomped his wrist making him holler out in pain. The officer came alive, pulled Scott’s arms behind him, and cuffed him. The man looked at me and said, “Thank God you defended yourself. I was so surprised that I couldn’t believe it was happening.”

I softly said, “Maybe I shouldn’t be in school. My dad wanted me to go to college and left life insurance money for me to come. I want to be a lawyer back in my county, but it may not be something I can do.”

The officer said, “I’m the Chief of Police here in Columbia, and I’ll help you any way I can. This isn’t the way to begin your college career. I think the police force can help you out with a few things. This thug laying here on the floor is going to help you too. I know his dad thinks the kid is going to be worth a lot of money. His dad hopefully has enough to repay you for the damage he’s done.”

Scott began mouthing off again. “My dad will have your job. You’re nothing but a small town Chief of Police, so you had better update your resume. I’ll be free by this afternoon and you’ll be looking for a job. I’m still going to kill that hick motherfucker.”

“Keep saying that and the jury will finally believe you, Scott.”

The dorm resident came in with a maintenance man. He saw Scott on the floor and me almost hiding in the corner. The resident said to the officer, “Barney was only defending himself. The officer took him somewhere for the night to be safe, and then Scott went nuts and destroyed the room and all of Barney’s clothes and books. Everyone on the floor tried to stop and calm Scott, but he was out of his mind telling the world he was going to kill Barney.”