Chapter 25: New Routines, Part II

September 1, 1981, McKinley, Ohio

Tuesday wasn't quite as crazy as Monday. My first class after breakfast was the biology seminar. After the first day, this would be run by Laura Peters, a graduate student. I immediately decided the seminar would be valuable, as she would provide study guides, sample lab reports, and a host of other helpful information, as well as address any challenges we encountered in our first semester at Taft. The most important thing is that there would be no outside coursework!

When I left the seminar, I headed to the Breyer building and made my way to one of the two chemistry labs. When I walked in, I saw name cards at each workstation, so I found the one that read 'M. Loucks' and sat down on the stool. The card to the left of mine read 'Z. Gleason', which meant nothing to me, though the names I knew that began with 'Z' were limited. The one to the right read 'K. Lund', which again meant nothing, though I knew more 'K' names than I did 'Z' names.

A few minutes later, a stocky, dark-haired guy with thick glasses sat down to my left.

"Zach Gleason," he said.

"Mike Loucks," I replied, extending my hand to shake.

"Materials sciences," he said.

"Biochem, for pre-med," I replied.

A tall, thin blonde guy, who was more or less the opposite of Zach, sat down to my right.

"Mike Loucks," I said. "Biochem for pre-med."

"Kurtis Lund," he replied. "Physics."

Zach and Kurtis introduced themselves to each other just as a graduate student who would lead the class came into the room. He introduced himself as Viktor Petrov. I detected a slight Russian accent, which didn't surprise me, given the name. He handed out a set of safety rules then explained the lab procedures. As I'd suspected when I walked in, based on the configuration of the workstations, Zach and Kurtis were going to be my lab partners. We were instructed to exchange contact information as we'd need to work on joint lab reports. I said a silent prayer, asking that both my partners were as dedicated as I was.

Our first session ended early, as there was insufficient time to do any experiments once the safety and procedures discussions were completed.

"We need to find time to work on our lab reports," I said. "Are you guys in Markley?"

They both nodded.

"Do you have a study group yet?" I asked.

"It's the second day!" Zach protested.

"I had the same guys in three classes, and we're forming a study group that meets in the common room of the sixth floor of Markley at 7:00pm Mondays through Thursdays. Why don't you join us?"

"Sure," Kurtis said.

"I guess," Zach replied.

"Cool. See you guys at 7:00pm tonight! I need to get some lunch, then get to work!"

We shook hands, and I headed back to the dorm.

"You must be Clark," I said to the black kid unpacking boxes in his bedroom.

"That makes you, Mike," he replied, extending his hand.

We shook.

"Where are you from?" I asked.

"Cincinnati. You?"

"West Monroe. It's a small town about forty-five minutes west of here."

"So your previous roommate was some kind of religious fanatic?"

"So it would seem. I only met him after he moved. He saw my icons, and I guess he freaked out."

"Over art? You're fucking kidding me, right?"

I shook my head, "I wish I was. I take it you don't go to church?"

"Not since I had a run-in with my dad's pastor when I was twelve. I think telling him to leave me the fuck alone kind of sealed that deal!"

I chuckled, "I can see that. Do you mind if I ask what it was about?"

He laughed, "A skateboard."

"What?!"

"Well, and the guys I was hanging out with at the skate park. He thought they were gang members, but they were just guys who didn't go to church and smoked and chased girls. You know, normal stuff. He told me not to go there because I'd be corrupted. I ignored him, but he kept up, so I told him to leave me the fuck alone. Want to know the funny thing?"

"Sure."

"I never touched a smoke, never drank, never did drugs, always treated girls properly. But hanging out with those guys was trouble in his mind. The REALLY funny thing was that two of the leaders in his church youth group WERE gang members."

"Well, I promise to keep my religious opinions to myself," I said.

"It's cool if you don't try to force 'em on me. What's your major?"

"Biochem for pre-med. You?"

"Racial studies," he smirked.

"I'm not buying it."

"Female studies?"

"Now THAT I would buy, but not as your major!"

"Economics."

"If you're not too busy, want to get some lunch?"

"I don't know. I never ate lunch alone with a white guy before."

"That's OK. I think you're about the third black guy I've talked to for more than a few seconds in my entire life."

"Then let's go!"

We headed to the dining hall and had a passable meal but a great conversation. When we finished, we walked back to the dorm so I could change for work.

"I'm off to work," I said. "I'll be back around 6:15pm to grab dinner, then I have a study group at 7:00pm."

"Study group?"

"A bunch of science nerds who need to study chemistry, biology, and math."

"Leave me out of that shit! Math would be cool, but I don't have to take any hard sciences."

"OK. Later!"

"Later!"

I left the dorm, headed for the Quick Mart, but had left enough time to stop in at the dojo. I explained to Sensei Hikaru that I'd considered what he had said, as well as the amount of time I had available, and over his protest, withdrew from classes. I really DID want to continue with karate, but I couldn't make it work with everything else in my schedule. That did mean I'd have to find time to exercise, but I knew I could jog in the mornings if I got up at 6:00am. I didn't need two hours for a shower and breakfast. I figured three days a week was enough, and I decided on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.

"Hi, I'm Mike," I said to the young woman behind the counter.

"Paula. I just started today."

"I just started Saturday. How long do you work?"

"Until a girl named Nancy comes in. Mr. Sokolov is in the back."

"Thanks."

I put on my smock and, checked with Mr. Sokolov about what he needed me to do, and got to work. I stopped to look at the work schedule and saw that for the school year, someone named Bob would take over from Nancy and work until the store closed at 1:00am. I was busy, but not rushed, and took over the register when Paula took her breaks. I talked with her a bit and discovered she had a daughter who was two and that she lived with her parents.

Nancy arrived at 3:00pm, and as we had over the weekend, we operated as a well-oiled machine. During lulls, I described my first day of classes and explained just how busy I was going to be. She was surprised that I'd dropped out of karate but understood that something had to give.

"How about Friday evening?" I asked.

"I already checked with my mom, and she said I could go out with you."

"This is your town," I said. "What do you want to do?"

"Well, there's nothing at the movies I want to see. I'm not really into bowling, and I positively hate mini-golf."

"That kind of narrows the options," I said.

"There's a High School football game, but I doubt you'd be interested."

"I'll pass," I said.

"Do you like Shakespeare?"

"Sure."

We were interrupted by several customers, so I did a few tasks while Nancy took care of them.

"The local theatre company is putting on Twelfth Night. Want to see it?"

"That's the comedy with the gender mix-up, right?"

"I think so, yes. Interested?"

"Sure. What time is the play?"

"8:00pm. Do you want to have dinner first?"

"Works for me. Do you want me to pick you up?"

"It's necessary, actually. If we want to stay out past 10:00pm, you have to come get me at the door and then bring me to the door. Mom's rules."

"You haven't mentioned your dad," I said.

"He left us four years ago. He just didn't come home from work one day, and we never heard from him again."

"Wow!"

She shrugged, "It was tough at first, and now you know why I work so much. Mom works a lot, too, but we make ends meet just fine, and I have enough money to go out on Fridays and Saturdays if I want to. Once we got over the shock, we just got on with life. There wasn't really anything else to do."

"That's just strange. What about his friends and family?"

"His friends claim they haven't heard from him, and Mom believes them. His parents wouldn't take my mom's phone calls when she tried to call them. At this point, it doesn't matter. Would you want a man like that in your life?"

"No."

"So you can understand why my mom wants to look you in the eyes when you pick me up and drop me off?"

"I could understand if she wanted to chaperone your dates. Especially after the two jocks."

"I tell her everything, and we talk about it. She's really cool. She approved of my solutions."

"My mom is pretty cool, and we're really close. My dad is OK, but it's not like it is with my mom."

"A mama's boy?"

"So my little sister claims, but I don't see it."

"I guess I don't know you well enough to judge."

"But you said it."

"Call it a feeling? I don't know. It's kind of a fine line between wanting a sensitive guy but not wanting Casper Milquetoast. I don't want James Bond, but I also don't want Mike Brady."

"Let's continue this on Friday," I said. "We should be working."

"You're so efficient we have time to talk!"

"Yeah, but it feels wrong, and there are things I can do."

We talked in small snippets as I worked, and at 6:00pm, I left the store and went straight to the dining hall to get dinner. I didn't see any of the guys from the new study group, but I did see Clark sitting with two other black guys. I got my meal and walked over to them.

"OK to sit down?" I asked.

"You have to join the Crips if you do," Clark teased.

"What's the initiation rite?" I asked.

"Clip a teacher and have sex with a dozen chicks."

"And the three of you have done that?" I grinned.

"Clip a teacher? No. Not sure we will. The other one? Workin' on it! Twelve each, not twelve total!"

All three of them laughed as I sat down.

"You never had any white friends?" I asked.

"The only white folks we saw regularly in Over-the-Rhine were cops. And those are the LAST dudes I'd make friends with. These are my new friends Carter and Larry from Cleveland. Carter, Larry, this is my roommate, Mike Loucks. He's not bad for a white dude."

They all laughed, and I grinned. I stuck out my hand and shook hands with each of them in turn.

"What does 'not bad for a white dude' mean?"

"You don't strike me as the typical southern Ohio rural cracker. You own a gun?"

"A bolt-action .22, but that's it."

"Just one?" Carter said, shaking his head. "Probably OK. A dozen or more? Well, that's a big red flag."

"I'm missing something," I said. "How does owning more than one gun make someone a racist?"

"Nah, it's the racists who own a bunch of guns; guns don't make 'em racists. You plink cans or whatever with your .22?"

"Yep. Just targets."

"Do you go to gun shows? Wear an NRA hat? Think Reagan is a Commie?"

"Reagan a Commie? Seriously?"

"We thought you lived in a rural county," Larry said.

It dawned on me that he was describing Emmy's dad to a 'T'. I was pretty much apolitical, but I knew from Emmy that her dad ranted about Reagan not being conservative enough. The guys he drank with apparently were the same.

"I think I got it. I know a few people who are like you're describing. But I'm going to be a doctor, and I know all four of us have the exact same internal anatomy."

Carter laughed, "Yeah, but the external anatomy? Do you know what's twelve inches long and white? Nothing!"

I joined the other guys in laughing and started eating.

"What are your majors?"

"Chemical Engineering," Carter said. "I think I saw you in the front of the chemistry lecture."

"I was there."

"History," Larry said. "I want to teach High School."

"Biochem," I said. "That's my pre-med degree choice. Carter, we have a study group that meets at 7:00pm on the sixth floor of Markley if you want to join us."

"Any other brothers?" Carter asked.

"No. Is that a problem?"

"It could be. How many black kids did you have in your school?"

"Only a few. Why?"

"You seem completely unaware of the issues," Carter said. "Don't get me wrong, I think that's probably a good thing. Nobody taught you to be a racist."

"Taught me?"

"Yeah, it's taught. Somebody has to teach you to hate people with different skin. Like my friend Clark here."

"Fuck you," Clark said. "I have good reasons."

"Yeah, and so do the white motherfuckers that want to lynch your ass because you're black. You even said Mike was OK."

"I guess it helps to be not clued in," Clark said.

I shrugged, "I'm cool with you. I have no reason not to be."

"Babe in the woods," Carter said. "Hang out with us, and you'll find out part of what it's like to be a black guy. People are going to stop talking to you and treat you differently."

"Oh, come on," I said, "Because I'm friends with you guys?"

"Fair warning, Mike," Larry said. "He's not kidding. I've seen it, too. And if you think that's bad, wait until one of us asks a white chick for a date."

I sighed, "Wonderful."

"Not everyone will be like that," Carter said. "But there will be some. Did they tell you Clark was black before they assigned him to be your roommate?"

"No. Why would they?"

"Because if they have half a brain, they'd make sure it wasn't a problem first. It appears they don't have half a brain."

"Wouldn't that be discrimination?"

Carter laughed, "Yeah. It's a way of life. We don't have to drink at 'colored' fountains like my dad did when he was little, but we're about as welcome in some parts of society as a turd in a swimming pool."

"Wonderful," I sighed. "Well, you won't have a problem with me."

"I hope so," Carter said. "But I've seen peer pressure in action."

"If you guys are up for it, we'll have dinner most nights. Cool?"

"Cool."

I finished eating and hurried back to the dorm so I could brush my teeth and put on shorts and a T-shirt for the study group. I walked into the common room just before 7:00pm to find the other guys sitting at one of the large tables. I pulled out a chair, plopped my books down, and began working on calculus homework.

September 4, 1981, McKinley, Ohio

When I got out of bed on Friday morning, I took a twenty-minute jog around campus. I'd done that on Wednesday, too. I was falling into a good routine, which included seeing my roommate drag himself out of bed with just enough time to get to his first class after I'd already jogged, showered, and eaten breakfast. The first week of classes had been relatively easy, and I knew the real work would start the following week when I would have biology AND chemistry labs to work on.

Fortunately, both Zach and Kurtis had decided to become part of our study group. My biology lab partners, Mark Jones and Sally Marbury, had not, and I was going to have to find time to meet with them. I already sensed a problem as Mark and Sally seemed to be VERY attracted to each other, and if the relationship went sour, I didn't want to get caught in the crossfire and have it affect my grade. If that happened, I'd need to approach the graduate student running the lab, Joe Miller, and ask for help.

I'd fallen into a pattern of eating breakfast and lunch alone because of the timing, but I'd had dinner each night with Clark, Carter, and Larry. As they'd predicted, I'd already encountered a bit of pushback. Zach, in our study group, had asked what I was doing hanging out with the black guys, and I could tell he wasn't comfortable with my response that they were my friends. Fortunately, none of the other guys had seemed concerned about it.

I was enjoying work, but there was downtime when I didn't have much to do. On Thursday, I talked to Mr. Sokolov about that, and he smiled and assigned me the task of reconciling invoices with inventory sheets. Nancy had laughed and told me to be careful what I wished for. I found out what she meant when I found multiple errors on every invoice — wrong items, wrong counts, charges for back-ordered products, and on and on. I simply couldn't believe how his suppliers could stay in business that way.