Chapter 94: Date, Resumed

Friday, March 11, 1983

Since neither Jasmine nor I were feeling any particular pain anymore, we were free to ditch our neck braces today. I left mine at home with a sigh of relief.

It would’ve been my first day to go jogging after the accident, but it was raining, so we put it off. We wouldn’t jog during Spring Break week, either, so we wouldn’t start up until we were back. I was going to be really rusty, and Angie said she might be, too.

When we picked her up, Jasmine was brace-free, too. We hugged and kissed.

I said, “Feel better without the brace?”

“So much! I hate that thing!”

“I’m glad mine is gone, too. We’d better get a move on. We had to stop and grab some money for the trip.”

“Good thinking!”

Between no more neck brace, and the now-fading bruises, I felt much more like myself. Both Jasmine and Angie agreed that I was getting back to normal. Not all there, yet, but better.

Of course, both of them were quick to point out that ‘normal’ for me wasn’t all that normal. I could agree with that.

I got a surprise during lunch. Danny Hill came over to our table and waved at me.

“Hey, can I talk with you a minute?”

“Sure, Danny. Jas?”

Jasmine giggled, gave me a quick kiss, then moved out of my lap. I got up and we stepped just outside the lunchroom.

He smiled, and said, “I see you’re running again.”

I nodded. “So far, so good, you know?”

“That’s why I came by. I do know. Dude ... look. I was wrong, flat out. Wanted to actually say that, and shake your hand.”

He offered his hand, and I shook it, smiling.

“Seriously, you actually got stuff changed. Girls I know say I’m missing how big that ‘Project Graduation’ thing is, which ... yeah, I get that. And the dress code? I love the idea of shorts when it gets hot, which it’s about to. I honestly figured you’d all just bash your heads against the wall for a year, give us some happy talk, and keep on keeping on.”

“We’re not done yet, either,” I said, grinning. “Bit by bit...”

“Just saying ... it really points out how lame everyone else has been.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“I doubt anyone will run against y’all, but ... if they do ... you’ve got my vote. Plus, I’m glad I didn’t beat you!”

“Thanks, man!”

“Sorry I didn’t come by earlier, but I heard about the accident. Figured I’d wait until you weren’t so messed up.”

“Works for me. I’m doing a lot better.”

“Sucks. I mean ... you know me. I’d never drive on ... well, anything! If something happened, I just couldn’t live with myself, you know?”

“I know. Everyone should feel like that.”

“People suck sometimes, you know?”

“They do. Helping them suck a bit less is what it’s all about.”

“Got that, dude! Got that, totally!”

We shook again, he headed off, and I headed back to the table, where Jas scooted back into my lap.

“What’d he want?” she asked.

“To shake my hand and say he was wrong last year.”

“Cool!” she said. A bunch of heads nodded.

“I thought it was really nice. If we’d gotten nothing done, I hope I’d have done the same in reverse.”

“If you’d gotten nothing done,” Cammie said, “you’d be too tired from fighting the good fight to do much of anything.”

“Probably,” Angie said. “All of us would be.”

“All of us,” Mel agreed, nodding right along.

The four of us went out to dinner at the Italian place close to school. We talked a lot about the trip during dinner. I’d made a bunch of reservations, but they were all tentative. We had a settled plan by the end of dinner.

Monday we’d buzz Rice and U.H., just to say we’d done it, then drive up to College Station. We weren’t actually going to tour the campus until Tuesday, but Monday we’d check out the shops and restaurants near campus and explore the town a bit. Tuesday we’d look around, then head over to Austin, and repeat the same plan — nightlife Tuesday, campus Wednesday. Thursday we’d hit Georgetown, Baylor, and maybe SMU. Friday was SMU (or not) and TCU, and then we’d head down towards Houston, but stop in Huntsville to get a quick look at Sam Houston State (only because it was perfect for Janet, or so an incredibly unreliable source said).

We’d be home by Friday night, hopefully in time to get sleep before Saturday, when the four of us would take aptitude tests. Whether that was fun or not was debatable, but it was a good idea, and it might be fun simply because it was the four of us. Mom was on the hook for figuring things out with Dad. Angie was on pins and needles over what might happen, but with Mom on board, Dad would be on board, too, in the end.

Saturday, March 12, 1983

Another second Saturday, another HAAUG meeting. By the luck of the calendar, we should be able to attend both April and May’s meetings. June? Who knew?

On the way to the meeting, I saw some signs saying ‘Barry Gregory for School Board! Keep SBISD Great!’ Didn’t strike me as the best slogan, but I’m not a campaign strategist. Or, maybe I was, now? It was hard to tell.

The signs struck me as hastily made. I suspected Barry hadn’t been expecting a challenge. Based on my previous encounters with him, it couldn’t have happened to a better guy.

Angie and I chatted about the election. Both of us were optimistic about Mr. Brandt’s chances.

This month’s HAAUG speaker covered business software. I found it to be a pretty interesting presentation. He covered things like AppleWriter IIe, Lotus 1-2-3, Apple File, and a bunch of other things that I might find useful in the short term, particularly if my ‘Let students type!’ plan paid off.

How many times could I fight the Man and win without the Man striking back at me? Who knew? None of my fights were actually bad for Principal Riggs, nor the School Board, but not everyone would agree.

Looking around, I spotted Michael and Adam in another part of the room. I had no idea if he spotted me or not, and I didn’t try to make contact during the meeting. He certainly didn’t seem to be looking around, anyway.

Once the speaker finished, Angie and I fetched my computer and the boxes of floppy discs. I still didn’t feel any particular angst at engaging in software piracy. First-life Steve had, and at a higher volume, after all. This time, I went out and bought things I’d actually use, unlike my former self.

I got a few strange looks, likely due to the fading bruises, but only one ‘Who’d you piss off?’ comment. I said ‘A very drunk driver,’ which seemed to satisfy the guy.

After a while, I spotted Michael heading over. I waved, and he waved back, then shook my hand when he got to our table.

“Hi, Steve, and hello, Angie.”

“Hi!” she said.

“Hi, Michael,” I said. “Good to see you.”

“I heard about the accident! That really stinks. Thank goodness you had a tough car! I bought mine with safety in mind, though it is pretty nice, too.”

“I’m all for luxury and looks, but not at the cost of safety.”

He chuckled. “No little sports car, huh?”

“Nah. Not really a fan.”

“So, how’s life, besides getting hit?”

“Good. We’re going out to look at colleges next week.”

Angie grinned. “I’m making him drive. You know — ‘Get right back on the horse that threw you?’”

He chuckled. “Sounds like a plan, though, if it was my car, I don’t know if I’d let anyone else at the wheel very easily.”

“Nah,” she said. “I’m good with it.”

“Any thoughts about the industry?” he said. “It’s been a while — November, right? — but I remember talking about trading hot tips if we had any. Not that I’ve had any in a while.”

“Nothing big, really. It feels like things are just ... sorting themselves out. I think Lotus will do well, though. The AT&T break-up early next year looks interesting, but I have no idea which of the Baby Bells will do the best.”

“Think AT&T will be competitive in computers?”

I shrugged. “They’ve got Bell Labs, so in theory they should be. I’ve got my doubts on whether they know how to compete, though. They’re used to selling to captive markets or markets where they’re the eight hundred pound gorilla. Their consumer business has been hit or miss, but even if it was runaway success, they’ll be going up against IBM and other companies with a track record of selling technology.”

“That’s my take on it. Lots of technical know-how, but not so much on execution, at least in computers.”

“How about you?”

“Nothing hot, either. I think Apple’s pretty good in the short term, but I still think IBM is likely going to win in PCs. Compaq is a good bet, if IBM doesn’t opt to crush them. I think the jury’s still out on that.”

I nodded. “Everyone’s watching that. If Compaq doesn’t get swatted down, it’ll open the door for dozens more.”

He nodded. “Some better than others, yeah. Compaq’s pretty good. I think they might be over-engineering some things, but you’ve gotta hand it to them for not just copying.”

“Yeah. I’d bet on them to do well, at least in the short term.”

“Any new thoughts on college?”

I shrugged. “Most likely in-state, and probably public, which means U.T. or A&M.”

“Well ... U.T’s just fine,” he said, grinning.

“A&M’s got a strong engineering program and a good business program, too.”

“Yeah, but it’s A&M!” he said, making a face. It was playful, though. “They date cows there, man!”

I chuckled. “You know, I think even there they know that’s not a good long-term plan.”

“I dunno,” he said, shaking his head. “I just dunno. Doesn’t matter to me, anyway. I’m planning on med school, and U.T.’s stronger for that.”

“No doubt about it,” I said. “And Austin’s a pretty nice place.”

“It is,” he said, nodding. “Small, quiet, and some smart people. IBM’s got a bunch of people there. I think they make typewriters, mostly, though, but some mainframe stuff, too.”

“I wouldn’t spend a dime investing in typewriters,” I said, chuckling.

“Hell, no! Dying business. Computers are going to take over that whole market.”

“I don’t think people see that, yet.”

“They should! Some improvements in printing and that’ll be the end. No retyping, no correction fluid, none of that nonsense. Just reprint.”

“I want to try pushing Memorial to accept computer-printed papers. And typed ones, but that’s really just a side effect.”

“Good luck with that! I tried, some, and got nowhere at all.”

“I’ve got Student Council behind me,” I said, grinning.

“Which meant absolutely nothing until this year,” he said. “Good job on the dress code stuff.”

“That was mostly Cammie,” I said.

“Yeah,” he said, but with a grin. “Mostly.”

“So, any summer plans?”

“Nah,” he said. “College is going to be a lot of work. I need to wind down and hand off the newspaper business and get set for college, pretty much. You?”

“Northwestern, for their summer Debate program, along with my partner Cammie. Angie and Jasmine are both going in Drama.” No point mentioning Paige — there’s no reason Michael would know who she was.

Angie nodded at that. “Can’t wait! It sounds like so much fun! Well, a lot of work, too, but...”

“But work can be fun if you’re doing something you love,” Michael said.

“Definitely,” I said. “Hopefully you find that in college. I’m still trying to pick a major.”

He nodded, not looking sure of things. “I hope so, too! I’m optimistic, though. I like watching Dad do his thing, after all.”

“We’ll have to keep in touch,” I said. That might be pushing it. We were barely acquaintances, but he was treating me like a friend. Maybe that meant something, and maybe it didn’t, but nothing ventured, nothing gained.