Chapter 2: Fall 1988-1

School was to begin the last week of August with orientation held the week before. Freshmen reported on Monday, sophomores on Tuesday, juniors on Wednesday, Spence on Thursday and I didn't have to report until Friday to attend meetings, pick up my uniforms and make a short speech to my roommates. Since it was only one day I drove the Volvo over to the school and parked it on the road. Student's cars were not allowed on school grounds when school was in session.

Spence called room Four C to attention when I entered. "At ease," I said before walking to the far end of the room where my bunk was located. I looked around the room, took in the new paint job and the seven cadets, five of whom I knew. "Thank you Sergeant Freeman," I said and on impulse I shook his hand. "It's good to see you. How long have you been waiting to get a bunk next to the window?" I asked. Spence grinned and said it was good to see me again, too.

"For those of you who don't know me, I'm Lieutenant Oldham, your room leader," I announced, looking at the faces. Jeremy Foster had taken my old bunk and Benjamin Sherman had Spence's. Edward Maize had moved to Jeremy's bunk and Cory Buford was in the bunk vacated by Sherman. I walked to the other end of the room to introduce myself to the new freshmen. "And you are?" I asked the skinny redheaded kid standing next to Eddie.

"Cadet Rodney Redding, Sir," the young man said as we shook hands. I glanced at Eddie, smiling to show my approval of the way he had trained Redding.

"You'll do fine," I said before moving to the other side of the room to shake the hand of the chubby kid standing next to Cory Buford.

"And you are?" I asked, extending my hand.

"Brown, Sir, Norman Brown," he said as he nervously gripped my hand.

I had some experience at being the room leader. Orlando Laredo gave me that when he moved out of the room the last quarter of the previous year and let me take charge. But he was just down the hall and always available when I needed someone to call upon for advice. Now I was on my own. Sure, my counterparts were supportive but we were in competition with each other. Calling upon one of them for help would have been like admitting defeat. What helped me most that first night was remembering Jordan Foster and how he looked into my eyes as he shook my hand; somehow I knew he was in my corner. He wanted me to do well.

"Gentlemen, we're going to have a good year. Now get ready for evening formation. Look sharp," I said as I left the room.

After formation Josh and I walked down the winding drive to where I had left the car. Charlie walked with us. As room leader of room Three C he had driven his mother's Volkswagen to school that morning and parked it on the road also. Cars driven by parents were edging their way up to the front entrance of the school to pick up their children. We waved at the ones we recognized from years past.

"Lieutenant Oldham," a man's voice called to me.

"Yes, Sir," I stopped and saw the young black man at the wheel. "Jordan Foster, I was just thinking about you," I said as we shook hands.

"I've been hearing good things about you. I hope to get to a few games this fall," he said as he looked in his rear view mirror. He pulled up to close the gap between cars and I walked along with him.

"Aren't you ... shouldn't you be in college?"

"I'm taking a year off. I broke my ankle last summer and it needs some more time to heal."

"That's too bad. Maybe I'll see you at some of the games," I said. The traffic was moving again and he had to move up with it.

"I'll see you, Sammy," he said, waving at me.

"How come he's not at school? Football practice must have started weeks ago," Charlie asked when I rejoined him and Josh.

"He broke an ankle and can't play so he's taking a year off," I informed them.

"How did he break it?"

"He didn't say. I'll find out from Jeremy," I said.

"I saw Debra the other day. She was asking about you," Charlie said. "If you come home with me for a weekend we can double date."

This was about the fifth time I heard him say that same thing but he never followed up with a solid invitation. Charlie had been dating Margaret since I had introduced them our freshmen year and as far as I knew they were virgins. I knew for a fact that Margaret was willing. She was waiting for Charlie to make the first move.

"Maybe we can set it up after football season. I'll have more free time then," I said. We would be playing Dearborn Military Academy twice and I would have the opportunity to talk to Debra Simmons and make my own judgment about her supposed interest in me.

Josh was excited about the beginning of school. He spoke at length about his classes and the room he was in but he waited until we were almost home to pose the two questions that were on his mind.

"Will you put a good word to the coaches about my passing ability?" he asked.

"I don't know if it would do any good, Josh. What do I know about passing? You're the one to show them you have a good arm," I said.

"They're not going to give me a chance. They'll listen to you," he argued.

"Okay, if I get a chance to speak to Coach Borden I'll ask him to give you a chance but I'm not promising anything," I said and that seemed to satisfy him.

"Do you think Eddie Maize is smarter than me?"

I looked over at Josh and saw that he was serious. They had been in competition with each other their freshman year, trading number four and number five ranking back and forth.

"You should be concerned with Chico Laredo passing both of you. His brother told me that's what he's primed to do," I said, just to try to rattle him.

"I can keep an eye on Chico. It's Eddie that worries me," he said.

"It's the top three you should be keeping your eye on. Have you considered moving up into one of their spots?"

Josh puffed up, like he was about to let me have it. He knew we were friends and I let him get by with more than I would have tolerated from other lower classmen. "What if I told you that you should try to pick off the four seniors ahead of you in ranking?"

"Touché," I congratulated him. If he only knew how closely I watched the other members of the Colonel's advisory council. They had been numbers one to four since we were freshmen. I had cracked the select group but I wanted to move up. Being number five in a class of forty was nothing to complain about but I was always looking over my shoulder at number six and seven in the standings. Moving up would have been nice but holding my own was also crucial. I liked the status of being at the top of my class. Every move I made was geared toward enhancing my college application. One wrong move could fuck it up.

"You're not going to tutor Eddie this year, are you, Sir?"

"Only if he asks for help. I'm going to be busy with all the other stuff I have to do," I said. Josh seemed satisfied with my answer. He nodded as if he was pleased with himself for getting me to divulge so much information.

I was the first one home. After saying hello to Molly I went upstairs to change my clothes. There were two letters and a large envelope. I opened it first. A note accompanied the letters.

Sammy,

Here are six copies of the letter I promised you. I hope you find it to your liking. It represents an honest appraisal of your work.

I wish you every success with school, your career and in life. Continue to volunteer your time, Sammy; it does wonders for the soul. Thank you for your help this summer.

'Your friend, Marie, ' was scribbled above Mrs. Alex Patrick

The letter was typewritten on heavy stationery with roses at the corners and had an imitation parchment texture.

August 23, 1988

To Whom It May Concern,

This is to express my deep appreciation for the services of Samuel K. Oldham this past summer. He served as a volunteer intern and worked tirelessly for us at The Wingate Home, a shelter for the disadvantaged homeless.

Sammy's engaging personality, initiative and inventive mind were infectious. Our staff benefited from his presence and he will be missed. He is motivated with success in mind. His contributions, both physical labor and planning made our summer fund-raiser into a record breaking success.

It is a pleasure to be acquainted with this fine young gentleman. I highly recommend him for any future ambition he desires to partake.

Sincerely,

Marie Patrick

Director, The Wingate Home

I opened Cindy's letter next.

Sammy,

I miss you! I miss sleeping late! I miss you!

I have one class that meets three times a week at seven a.m. Do you believe it? Me, holding my eyes open at seven a.m.?

I've met some neat people, roommates not included. I'll tell you about them later.

Write to me. Tell me everything; even if it's something you know I won't want to hear. I promise to tell you everything.

Your girlfriend from the past,

Cindy

P.S. One of my roommates saw your picture and asked about the scars. I told her the story of the gash on your cheek but I couldn't remember how you got the one near your left eye. Did you ever tell me that story? Anyway, my roommate said, "I want him!" More about her later.

The letter from my mother was disturbing.

Sammy,

You've disappointed me again. Becky dropped by the other day. She wanted to know if you had been here and didn't contact her. I had to admit that you didn't keep your promise. We waited all summer, Becky and I, but you didn't come to see us. I didn't know what else to say.

She's so cute, Sammy. And she's maturing. You probably wouldn't recognize her. I told her I would ask you to send some pictures. Will you please do that much for us?

I know you must be busy and I know I have no right to expect you to come see us but you did promise, remember?

Your loving mother,

Jane

I remembered my promise to come home once per year. Shit! The summer passed so quickly I lost track of time. My mom had a way of sending me on a serious guilt trip. What could I do to make up for forgetting my promise?

I showed Mrs. Patrick's letter of recommendation to Mr. Oldham and Suzanne. He remarked that I only needed one copy of the letter, inferring that I would only be applying to one school. Suzanne remarked that I needed another letter and volunteered to write one about my work at Mr. Oldham's company the past three summers. "I'll sign it as assistant to the president. They don't need to know we're related," she said.

"We're not related. You keep forgetting," I said and waited for her reaction.

"Don't be a wiseass. You don't have the letter yet," she said, feigning irritation.

"Sorry, Aunt Suzanne," I said and watched a slight smile come to her lips.

With nothing better to do that night I selected photographs suitable to send to my mother, keeping in mind that Becky would likely see them. There were several pictures taken the day of the impromptu pool party. I wrote on the back of the ones I intended to include with my next letter to my mother. 'Josh and me, ' 'Ned and Penelope, ' 'Mr. Oldham and Suzanne, ' 'Josh and Jeannie, ' 'Cindy, ' 'Jessica, ' 'Cindy and me, ' 'The Baldwin sisters, ' 'Betsy and me, ' 'Molly and me, ' 'Ned and me, ' 'Suzanne and me.'

I found pictures of us hanging out around the tennis courts and several of Curtis and me. There was a picture of Josh and me in our school uniforms, taken shortly after I made Lieutenant, and there was a picture of Suzanne and me taken after a round of golf. There were a few pictures taken at the company outing. I labeled one, 'Denny, my boss last summer, and his wife.' There was a picture of Cindy and me at the outing that I decided not to send. This prompted me to take another look at the picture of the three Baldwin sisters. They were wearing bikinis that barely covered the essentials. Cindy was in the center with her arms around her sisters and posing for the camera, smiling mischievously with one leg bent at the knee and extending forward. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She was the most attractive of the three, not that the other two lacked beauty. I taped the photo to the bottom of my monitor, deciding it was too prized to part with.

The next morning I met Stephanie Watkins. I first spotted her across the track, a half-mile ahead of me. All I could see was the ponytail bouncing from side to side. I didn't remember seeing her before. Surely I would remember the leotards. The color was something between chartreuse and bright orange.

Ordinarily I would make one loop on the track and veer off into the neighborhood, heading to the north in order to run by Doctor Koskowski's house or to the east to run by the Baldwin house. On this day I chose to stay on the track for another lap or two. As I got closer to the female I could see that the legs of the leotards were full of flesh, as was the ass of her running shorts. Should I pass her or stay back here and observe? I can't, I can't run this slow for long. She'll know I'm measuring her butt.

"Hi," I said as I passed her, looking back to see the pain-filled face. "Are you okay?" I asked, slowing to wait for her answer. It came in short, halted speech.

"I thought ... I could ... do this," she said, stopping between words to try and catch her breath. She slowed.