Chapter 11

Carl Shankey was drunk, and couldn't care less. He tipped the bottle of Scotch up to his lips and greedily took a couple of swallows, letting the burning liquid slide down his throat and into his stomach. He set the bottle down on the floor and rolled over on the beds staring at the ceiling. What a crummy day it had been, he thought, glancing at his watch. It was almost 6PM. Well, it was almost over, maybe the rest of the week would be more salvageable, anyway he should get up, it was almost time for dinner. Tonight he would have to settle for eating with the rest of the fellows who lived at the fraternity... if he hadn't spent his weekly allowance so soon, he could have gone down to the local tavern. Life's a bitch.

He knew he should go use the bathroom now before the great rush before dinner, but he remained on the bed, thinking of the day's events. What the hell was wrong with everyone anyhow? That morning, Dean Townsend had called him into his office and spent half the morning talking to him in ominous undertones... about nothing but a lot of crap.

"Carl," he said, "for the past few months, I've been hearing a lot of negative rumors about your social conduct. At the time, I was concerned. But, I never like to base a premise on a few rumors. They were stories that easily pass from student to student, and eventually reach a member of the faculty... and hence to me. But enough of that... To add to all of this, last week I received reports from two different members of my faculty, saying they had caught you openly cheating during the midterms.

Carl scuffed his shoes on the floor, and looked down at his feet, saying nothing. The bastard probably had a complete portfolio on him, he thought. He probably even knows that I was arrested last week for drunken driving, and is just saving that tidbit for the grand finale.

"Normally," Dean Townsend continued, "the University staff wouldn't tolerate these actions, and you'd be subject for immediate dismissal." He paused to see if there was any reaction from Carl, but he continued to look down at his feet.

"Carl, look up at me when I'm talking to you, this is a very serious matter," the calm exterior and crisp voice broke momentarily. The boy's passiveness was maddening.

Carl obediently looked up at him with a coolly detached gaze.

Dean Townsend shifted around in his chair and continued, now in a more mellow tone.

"I knew your Dad at Yale... Why I was even with him the night he met your mother. She was a beautiful, charming woman Carl... I-I was more than shocked to hear of her untimely death last year."

"Yeah, Dad told me how you and him used to tie one on... then form groups for panty raids," Carl sneered, ignoring the mention of his mother.

"If your trying to say that I once sowed my wild oats, I'll not deny it. Look boy, I understand this had been a very trying period in your life." He closed the portfolio on his desk and put it in the bottom drawer. "That's why I'm putting this report on you away. I'm going to give you another chance, Carl... I hope that you won't disappoint me."

Another chance, hell, Carl thought, reaching for the bottle and taking another swig. The old goat was probably just waiting for him to make another wrong move, so he could tell his father on him. A knock sounded on the door.

"It's not locked," Carl called out, pushing the bottle under the bed.

Mark Loftis entered the room and shut the door behind him. Of all the members in the fraternity, Mark was the one that Carl truly despised. He was the good, all-around clean-cut American boy, why, he looked so fresh, he could even pose for toothpaste ads, Carl thought cynically as he sat up on the side of the bed.

"What can I do for you, old boy?"

Mark looked uncomfortable, like he had an itch that he was embarrassed to scratch.

"Carl... This isn't a social call. I have some thing to say to you, so I might as well come right out with it."

"Do, by all means."

"You've been voted out Carl... blackballed. We had a special meeting of the members last night. That drunk driving ticket, plus all the rest of your actions during the past year... is not in keeping with the image of the fraternity house."

"Do tell."

"They wanted to tell you en masse, but I thought it would be easier on you like this. You can stay here till you find another place to live, though. Carl, I'm sorry... but as President, it's my duty...