Chapter 3

The summer was an incredible educational experience for me. In three short months I picked up an unbelievable amount of experience. Dad had friends from other trade unions come in and oversee my work. The learning opportunities were priceless, and I wound up working close to eighty hours a week. I completely rebuilt the kitchen under the kind tutelage of the UBCJA, the UAPP, and IBEW. That's the United Brotherhood of Carpenters and Joiners of America, the United Association of Plumbers and Pipefitters, and the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers.

The house looked great, and I was so proud of the kitchen. I changed the floor to ceramic tile, even put in new sub-flooring before I did the mud job. I sweated in the plumbing for a new sink location and the dishwasher mom always talked about having. And I did all my own wiring, including the installation of a sub-junction box down in the basement. No more worrying now about having the toaster and the microwave on at the same time. The various city building inspectors said everything looked very professional.

I also did a lot of finishing woodwork and found I loved it. I completely rebuilt the staircase to the second floor, replaced a cracked stringer, and put in new handrails and new risers and treads made out of Brazilian cherry wood. It gleamed! And by far I was most proud of the kitchen cabinets, customized solid hardwood maple complete with Hawaiian Koa wood inlay. It took a lot of time with the sanders and the routers and the table saw, but the result looked fantastic. I think it's what sold the house, even in the soft market.

I saw almost nothing of Melanie that summer. She was one of a few high-school students in the entire State to be accepted in a special pre-med summer program at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. It's just over 200 miles by car from my house to the campus, about a three and a half hour drive. It's not a bad trip, but I only drove it once. Word got back to Melanie's parents about my first visit, and they really reamed her out about it, even to the point of threatening to withdraw their permission for her to be in the summer program. We talked on the phone the next day, and decided we wouldn't push the issue.

We talk a lot on the phone, in the evenings. Gosh, I miss her. The talking does help though. Her latest struggle is trying to get her parents to sign for her driver's learning permit. They promised to do it when she turned seventeen, but somehow the paperwork never quite gets done. I don't know why her parents treat her like this. Melanie is one of the most mature and thoughtful people I know. She wouldn't abuse driving privileges. Her parents just don't seem to appreciate her. And her father's attitude towards unions is, "Bust 'em up!" For some incredibly wacky reason, somehow that got translated to "Melanie, stay away from Eric!" It's totally insane!

The summer flew by. With all the work and the overtime I was struggling not to charge my dad more than $1600 a week, but I had given him my solemn word I would not under-report my time. By the end of the summer, I had grossed close to $20,000. It felt really strange, getting paid so much for doing work I found so enjoyable. Before I knew it, the summer was over. It was the last day of August, the Friday before Labor Day. Dad came to close on the house sale and pick me up.

He had a tear in his eye when he saw all my work. He said he couldn't quite believe all the reports from his friends about what kind of job I was doing. His friends aren't the type to rave, and he sometimes wondered if they were joking. I never felt so proud. Then after one last look, we went to the lawyers and signed it all away. My days at Sterling had drawn to a close.

Dad had bought a house in Exeter township, a few miles east of Reading. The township had a much better high school than the city. It's even smaller than the one in Sterling, only about 800 students. I started right after Labor Day. The students were mostly friendly, not too cliquish, and the drug problem wasn't quite- as bad as Illinois. 9/11 happened my second week of school, and somehow I think that helped the class accept me. I think they saw me as a fellow American, rather than some outsider from another State.

My only real problem with the school is that they had this fixed policy that you had to take Advanced Placement courses as a junior IN THEIR SCHOOL before you could take AP courses as a senior. We argued and argued with the school principal and finally even petitioned the school board. No luck. Dad and I hate wasting time fighting losing battles, so in the end he bought me some college texts on calculus and physics and most of my science that year was self taught.

The second time my abilities manifested was right after a phone call I had with Melanie during Thanksgiving break. It was the day my universe changed.

Melanie was calling from a friend's house. The time was late Saturday afternoon.

Right after I had moved to Pennsylvania, Melanie's parents had forbidden her to contact me, no phone, no e-mail, nothing. But we both feel that kind of control is way beyond their parental rights. They were even monitoring their phone bill to check on her. I guess it's not illegal, but man oh man, what an awful way to treat your child. I try not to make sarcastic comments about it. They're still her parents. For the phone call, I tried to start on a topic I knew she'd enjoy.

"So how's track coming?"

"Fabulous!" Gosh, it was so nice to hear her happy. "Coach Collins timed me at 35:37 on the ten kilometer run last Saturday."

"Wow! Six six-minute miles?!"

"Yep! Under! I'm doing a mile every 5:44."

"Wow... Dreaming about the Olympics Melanie? Athens is less than three years away!"

"Yeah, right! I'm still six minutes off the women's world-record pace, and probably one or two minutes away from being good enough for the Olympic team. I hope to be on the podium at the State Championships though."

I took a risk. "Surely your parents must be proud of you, at least about this."

Melanie gave a mirthful laugh. "Well, I must admit, they have inspired me to be the runner I am today."

"Really?! Hey, that's great!"

"Yeah. They still say I'm not trustworthy enough to have a driver's permit. But I figure if I can run five miles in half an hour, then I really don't need to drive."

"Oh... Oh hell Melanie..."

"Oh, it's not so bad Eric. And in another four months, I won't need their signature for the permit. I've got the date circled on my calendar. On Monday, April 1, 2002, the April Fool girl will have her birthday and be eighteen. I'll be emancipated."

Melanie was trying to hide it, but I knew her too well. She sounded just a bit depressed. I tried to shift the topic to her older sister. "Well, better than being emaciated I guess! So how is Patricia doing?"

For the first time in the call I heard Melanie giggle. "Oh, that's right! You don't know. Patty is a guest again of the Whiteside County judicial system."

I must have been slow that day. It took me a moment to realize what Melanie was saying. "Yikes! What's she done now?"

"Oh, just the usual, more shoplifting."

"Ah... No more probation, huh?"

"No, not this time. Patty even tried to lie to the judge again about what was going on. She kept insisting that the sales clerk had said it was okay for her to take the merchandise out through the loading dock. She sounded so self-righteous!"

"I take it the judge wasn't buying it?"

"Not this time. He added an extra sixty days for perjury. Patty was lucky it wasn't a year! The earliest she can get out is late summer."

"Hell! How could she be so stupid?!"