Chapter 3: School and Babies

When they arrived, tired but happy, at Steele Ranch, they found a couple more welcome surprises. Champ had been shipped back to the ranch. And Ad decided that Marty's old jalopy was not suitable for a wife and family. So he'd sold it and bought a new, shiny black Ford pickup, with 4-wheel drive and an extended cab. The truck had a trailer hitch and towing package, just in case they wanted to pull a horse trailer and take Champ along to school.

"A bit spendy for a graduation present, isn't it dad?" Marty asked.

"Well, I thought of it more as a wedding present. After all, the Parmentiers bought a house for you in Corvallis. I don't like them thinking I'm too poor to help you take proper care of their little darling." Ad's grin took any possible sting out of his words. Adoré gave him a big hug.

They set up housekeeping in the back bedroom that was Marty's and enjoyed the ranch and each other the rest of the summer.

When school started in the fall, there was no trouble enrolling Adoré as a freshman, too. They both took the general classes freshmen have to take: English, history, and math. Adoré took French, and Marty took biology 101.

Her dad bought a nice three-bedroom house within easy walking distance of the campus, then made sure it had all the modern amenities. The kitchen was new, as was the carpeting. The furnace was augmented with a heat pump and high-efficiency filters. A high capacity, high recovery water heater was added, with a pump on the system to constantly provide hot water right at the taps.

Her mother wanted to hire a cook/housekeeper for them, but Adoré insisted that she would take care of them, herself. After all, college is where you learn what you need to succeed in life, right? Well, they were not going to have any servants on the ranch and she was not going to start her marriage with one.

Their first term went about how they expected. They were deliriously happy with each other and enjoyed the school and their home. Even though they bitched about the Teaching Assistants-many of whom were Asian, and didn't speak English well enough to teach in the language-they liked learning in the atmosphere of committed students desiring to learn.

Their classes were tough and they thrived on the challenge.

It seemed they'd just arrived there when they finished their first term finals, and it was time to go home for Christmas.

After the rain and gloom of the Willamette Valley in December, the sunny days at the ranch, though cold, were welcome. Adoré was obviously very pregnant now, and the sunshine visibly lifted her spirits.

The second day home, after wandering around the ranch headquarters all morning, Marty asked, "Honey, why don't we leave Champ here? You aren't able to ride and I want to put him to work."

"How?"

"Well, we have a few mares I'd like to have him service. I think we can come up with some pretty good horses. I'd like to try it anyway, just to see if I'm right."

"OK, dear. You're right about my riding. It will be months before I can ride again."

"Great, baby... Er, the income we make from the colts should go into the ranch. Is that a problem?"

"Why can't it be our income?" she asked.

"Well, the way it's always been here is that the family owns and works the ranch. Mom and dad are in charge. But it's always been understood that any expenses Rick or I have, the ranch pays. And any income we have goes to the ranch... I suppose if I were to move to Virginia permanently it would change, but that's the way we've been for four generations now-soon to be five."

"I suppose that's OK. It sounds like a fair deal to me," Adoré agreed. "My dad might have a bit of problem if my trusts are expected to be dumped into the ranch, though."

"Let's let mom work that out with him, next time she visits Richmond."

They settled on that, and Champ began his new life as head stud for the Steele Ranch horse herd.

The next day, they walked together around the area again, needing the exercise.

A couple hundred yards south of the "big house" was a copse of cottonwood and aspen, in a spot sheltered from the wind, but catching plenty of the eastern Oregon sunlight.

"Marty, I'd love to have a house right here," Adoré said. "Can we?"

"Well, let's talk to dad and see if the money is there for that. We may need to wait a year or two-but we won't be here that much until we graduate anyway."

Over supper, they broached the subject. Ad thought it was a great idea, especially if the kids were willing to take it slow. Rick was in college, too, a sophomore at UC, Davis. Their expenses were higher than normal as a result.

"We've done OK. And we can afford both of you in college. But we'll be strapped if we have to build you a new house all at once, on top of it. Seems to me, though, if we get the permits and put in water and septic this spring, and the foundations this summer, we can do the rest over a couple of years, and have it all done when you're ready to move in."

"Uncle Ad?" Adoré said...

"Just 'Ad', Dory. 'Uncle' sounds strange from a daughter-in-law."

"OK. Ad... ? I just wanted to say that I can afford a house for us."

"Dory, we take care of ourselves here. Always have. When the time comes for you to start spending some of your inheritance, I hope you'll want to invest it in the ranch. Maybe a few more good horses, to improve the herd even more than Champ will? Whatever, we can handle it fine, if you don't need it all at once. OK?"

"OK Ad. If you say so. But I don't feel I'm carrying my share of the load..."

"Sure you are. You're making my grandson. I can't ask any more from you until you've finished that job. Then we'll see about what else. Besides, Dory, you're a mighty pretty girl and just having you around brightens my days a lot."

"I'd say you're a flatterer. But Marty says that's not correct. You're a bullshitter, Ad... but I love it!"

Second term, Adoré-starting her third trimester-was very pregnant. Beautiful before, now she glowed. 'Waddling' to classes or to the commons, she still turned heads wherever she went.

One eye she caught belonged to a junior at OSU, Darnell Hollins.

Raised by a welfare mom in Portland, Darnell had only a couple of things going for him. He was big, and he was pretty good on the basketball court. He was not as good as he thought he was, though, and his idea of strolling into the NBA with a big-money contract was pure pipe dream.

Normally, his carnal appetites were more than adequately handled by the girls who thought athletes were cool and who offered themselves to most any jock who wanted them. As at most major colleges, there were plenty of them, and Darnell was never lacking. Few hung around very long, though-soon learning that there was nothing to Darnell beyond basketball. He had no thoughts or conversation and was a completely selfish lover, treating his 'conquests' like a used Kleenex when he was done with them.

No one knows why, but something in Adoré struck a chord in his mind and he soon began looking for her on campus. Then he looked up her class schedule-she was only taking French and English composition that term-and was in position to watch as she left a class and walked to the commons for lunch or the library to study in the hour before the next class. Soon he was saying hello to her and then offering little conversational gambits.

Adoré had been well trained in avoiding unwanted social contacts. But she was also trained-and her basic friendly personality reinforced this-to be pleasant to everyone.

She tried to be polite, but give him a brush-off. He persisted. She displayed her wedding ring prominently-her pregnant belly also prominent. He continued.

She finally confronted him one day, in the commons, when he persisted in trying to engage her in conversation when she obviously wasn't interested.

"Look, Darwin, or whatever your name is. I'm a married lady. A VERY married lady who is about to become a married mother. Whatever you're peddling, take it somewhere else. I'm not interested. And I'm not flattered by your attention; I'm offended. Now: Leave me alone! Is that clear?"

Darnell just laughed it off and watched for her the next day.

Adoré and Marty went to their academic advisor for advice. He hadn't a clue, as it turned out, and suggested that there was little to be done unless Darnell broke the law.

That night, they mentioned it to Hazel, during a routine call home. Hazel asked how late they would be studying. Told they'd be awake until midnight, she said, "I'll call you back. Your advisor's full of shit. We can get this stopped and we will-right now."

Hazel's next call was to an old friend-a Parmentier cousin who was an Oregon State grad and had a very successful law practice in Portland. She explained the problem and received the help she expected. Then she called the kids and asked that they do nothing for a day or two, but that Marty should be with Adoré whenever he possibly could until it was solved.

Mr. Parmentier, who had made substantial contributions to OSU and to its athletic program, made just one phone call-to the Athletics Director. He explained the whole situation to the AD, and that the kids had received 'wait until you're raped' advice from their advisor. He stated politely but firmly that he wasn't satisfied with that and that he felt his cousin should be able to attend OSU without being intimidated by some sexual predator.

Knowing he was dealing with a man who was not only a big contributor, but whose word could dry up a lot of other contributions, he promised to take action immediately.

He called in the basketball coach, who professed to know nothing about any of it. In the sixties, sexual assaults on college campuses were not considered that big a deal. Sexual harassment wasn't even on most administrators' radar screens. The coach really didn't want to be bothered.

So the AD paid a visit to the Registrar, where he pulled Darnell's file. The kid was barely eligible to play-and could not possibly graduate, since the courses he'd taken were calculated to give him passing grades-and he'd had trouble passing anyway. Seems class attendance wasn't high on his priorities, either.

Summoning the coach to his office the following morning, the conversation was strained. "Bob, if you don't do something about that kid, I will."

"He's OK. Just high-spirited."

"Yeah. He's so high-spirited, he's stalking a pregnant, married woman, when he has all the free pussy a man can use. He's also so high-spirited he hasn't taken a single upper-level class in three years. Now, I expect you-today-to explain to the young man that if I hear one single complaint about his behavior towards women on the campus, he's out of here. And I expect your counseling session to include the startling revelation that he's expected to go to class. If he doesn't, he's out of here in June."

"Well, that might be hard. He never had to do a lot of class work, in the lousy high school he went to in Portland..."

"Coach, do you know the school rule?"

"Sure... Oh... you mean about being on a degree track?"

"Exactly. He's not. I expect you to correct that... In fact, I expect you to review the courses and results of all your scholarship players, to make sure they are complying with the NCAA rules. Are there any questions about that?"

"Kind of... Some of these kids... They just never learned how to do this kind of work. We tutor them and help all we can, but, well..."

"Seems to me you need to set your recruiting sights a little higher."

"Easy to say. Not so easy to do, when everybody expects me to win with this program."

"That's what you get the big bucks for-figuring these little situations out. Now are we clear on Hollins? I'm not fooling with you on this. He cleans up his act or he's history!"

The young man who left the coach's office was not chastened-he was pissed off. The coach hadn't done a very good job of concealing his displeasure with the AD, so Darnell had some justification in believing the coach wasn't really ready to come down on him. Besides, they were playing Washington on Friday and needed his scoring.

The next day, he caught up to Adoré just as she left her English class. Marty was across campus, awaiting his calculus session.

"I hear you think you're too good to associate with me," Darnell started out, truculently.

"Not at all. But I am a married woman and want to be respected and left alone."

"Dunno what you got you think's so shit-hot. I've screwed half the white chicks on this place already."

"Fine. Go find some willing ones and leave me alone."

"Or what? You'll go whining to the coach again?"

"No. I'll have you arrested. Get out of my face!"

She turned to walk away, when Darnell roughly turned her back to face him, his face a mask of rage.

"Don't walk away from me, bitch! Nobody walks away from me! You got that?"

"What I got, is that you're too stupid to be allowed to exist. Let go of me, now!" As she wrenched her arm free, a campus security officer approached, tipped off by another student who had seen a situation developing.

"Anybody want to tell me what's going on?" he inquired, mildly.

"Nothin' for you, pig!" Darnell snarled, grabbing her arm again.

"Maybe. What do you say, miss?" he asked Adoré.

"Nothin' from her, either. Get lost," the arrogant young man interrupted.

"I think, young man, you better 'get lost', unless you want me to write you a citation."

"Fuck you, man. I was havin' words with this bitch here. My business, not yours."

"Buster, back off, or you're coming in with me."

"I ain't goin' nowhere with you. I'm talkin' here. Now get lost."

"OK. That's it. Give me your student ID."

"Fuck you," he said, taking a swing at the officer. He still had hold of Adoré's arm, so his swing was off balance and lacked range. He did manage to connect with the officer's chest. The unarmed security man just backed up and reached for his radio, requesting immediate assistance to subdue a student who had attacked him.

Almost immediately, three other security men were visible, hustling towards them. It finally penetrated Darnell's head that he couldn't win here.

"Come on, bitch!" he snarled, trying to pull Adoré with him, away from there.

Adoré promptly collapsed.

"You stupid cunt! Get up!" he snarled, as he slapped her hard, once with each hand.

Then he was tackled by four enraged security men, who managed to get his wrists restrained behind him. When he tried to kick one of them and gave another an elbow, the one who carried a police baton used it-behind his knee, in his solar plexus, and on the back of his head. It didn't put him out, but was effective in putting him down, where two men sat on him while they awaited the Corvallis police to come haul him to the pokey.

He was charged with menacing, five counts of assault, five counts of battery, and resisting arrest.

In that era of emerging "Black Power", anti-war protests, and draft-card burnings, campus security people weren't very interested in allowing "situations" to develop and reacted quickly.

The Athletic Director heard about it almost immediately, of course, as did the basketball coach, who spent his lunch hour getting his ass royally reamed by a very upset AD.

"I told you what you had to do with that young man. What did you say to him?"

"Well, you can't just talk that way to these inner-city kids..." the coach whined.

"The hell you can't. You let him think it was no big deal, that you were talking to him just because I said to, right?"

"Well... sorta. But it wasn't..."

"What is aggravated assault, if 'it wasn't?' "

"Look, he's not a bad kid. I'll get him out and we'll straighten it up..."

"Let's get a few things straight around here. You work for me, right?"

"Well, yeah..."

"And I gave you very specific instructions about that kid, didn't I?"

"Yeah..."

"I'm going to give you some more. You will not go near that kid. You will not allow your assistant coaches to go near that kid. You will not call him or accept any phone calls from him. You will have absolutely nothing to do with that kid: Darnell Hollins. And that applies to your coaches, your trainers, all of your staff-and your team! Are you clear on that?"