Chapter 6: A Fresh Perspective

My second year was as different from my first as night and day. First of all, I knew what to expect and what was expected of me. Secondly, I was beginning to get a sense of what my career path might be. My exposure to political life was, if nothing else, exciting. I was part of a machine dedicated to getting a man elected to office. Whether or not he was fit for that office never entered my thoughts.

I had chosen to take Political Science, along with European History as two of my main courses. Journalism was also included, naturally and, in a moment of inspiration, I chose Psychology as another course. It seemed like a strange mix at first but, as Steve Walters predicted, I was surprised how each of them melded together. I was confident I would do well in these courses since I had an abiding interest in them to begin with. By Christmas, I knew I had made some really good choices. I was at the top of my class in almost every one.

They say that success opens doors and that was the case for me in the most unlikely way.

"Excuse me, are you Hal Berglund?" the soft voice came over my shoulder.

I was having lunch in the Student Union Building and at the time, reading a chapter of the history of the Napoleonic Wars. The voice startled me.

"Uhhm, yes." I answered before turning to see who was asking. I didn't recognize her immediately but she did look somewhat familiar. A dark-haired beauty with a lovely body, she was an eyeful to any guy with half a brain and a reasonable supply of hormones.

"May I join you," she asked sweetly, clearly shy in her approach.

"Yes. Of course. Please do," I stumbled clumsily rising to pull back a chair for her.

"Thank you," she smiled and it was a brilliant, thousand watt smile too.

She put her tray down, showing an almost typical female student lunch, salad and tea.

"How do you stay alive with just that little bit?" I asked with a grin.

"I sneak an energy bar during the afternoon break when no one's watching," she said with a cheeky smirk.

"Ah, that explains it. Otherwise you'd have one of those anorexic model bodies. By the way, I'm Hal Berglund."

"Yes, I know. I'm Renata Di Gravio. Nice to meet you, Hal."

"Nice to meet you too," I replied, thinking for a moment. "I get the impression you aren't sitting here because there isn't anywhere else so you must have a reason." I was being more forward that I would usually be, but it didn't seem to bother her.

"Yes. Steve Walters suggested I talk to you. I need some help in my history class. I'm struggling with some of it and Steve said you were the best person to talk to since you're at the top of the class. Would you be willing to help me?"

Now that was a surprise. I'd helped Ginny back in high school but this was something entirely different. On the other hand, she was a very attractive young lady; a solid eight-plus in my book so I was tempted.

"What kind of help do you think you need?" I tried.

"I'm having trouble with dates and places and I can't seem to get them straight. I'm usually a pretty good student but right now I'm worried that I'm not going to do well on the mid-terms and might even fail. I can't afford that," she said with a very concerned look.

"Okay ... I think I can help you with History all right. It's a matter of trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together so that you can understand how one thing led to another. Once you catch onto the concept, you'll do a lot better."

"So ... you are going to help?" she said, seemingly not believing I would.

"If I can. No guarantees, Renata. I'm not a teacher, just a student like you."

"Yeah but you are top of the top, and besides, Steve said you were a real gentleman and would always help a lady in distress," she grinned.

"He did, did he? Well, lucky for you that you caught me in a weak moment, so let's talk about when we can meet. I don't live on campus and I commute home each day. What about you?"

"I have a dorm room with a roommate. What do you suggest?"

"Let's meet in the library after class today. I'll try and get an idea of where you need help. Then we can make some plans for getting together."

"Thank you, Hal. I really appreciate this. I just know you can help me. Thank you," she said, putting her hand over mine.

We finished our lunch and agreed to meet at four o'clock at the library entrance after her last class. I would be finished my classes at two but could spend some time on my studies while waiting for her. I admit I was looking forward to spending some time with her. You never know how these things can work out.

She arrived promptly at four and we proceeded to the study area, already fairly empty of students. I motioned to her where I thought we could sit without disturbing anyone and she followed.

"Thanks again, Hal. I really appreciate this," she smiled as she sat.

"Don't thank me yet. We haven't started," I grinned, hoping it would relax her.

For the next hour we went over the outline of the European history we were expected to have read and understood by midterm. It began with the Greek and Roman origins in the fourth and fifth century BC and went as far as the early 16^th century and Martin Luther. I had a great reference book at home and I planned to bring it for our next session as it not only spelled out what happened when but showed maps of the changes in influence of Rome, the so-called Barbarians, the Italian Principalities, France and Great Britain, etc. Many of the pages were dog-eared now as I had referred to it so often.

Renata had attended a public school in the Ottawa suburb of Orleans and had pretty much been expected to learn by rote. Pick a date, memorize an event or vice versa. It held no context that would make her able to connect one event to another. It was just a collection of facts. My teachers had tried to get us to understand how one thing led to another and why they took place. The dates were simply reference points and most of us found it much easier to remember them using this method. Even so, the date was seldom the most important feature. It was the event and what led up to it or followed it.

The next day, Renata and I discussed her history class and specifically where she thought she was having trouble. This was going to be a greater challenge because just using the Cole's Notes version wasn't going to cut it on exams.

I loaned her my well-worn reference book that afternoon and within a few days I could see the light go on when it came to understanding just how Europe had evolved over the nearly twenty centuries that she had to study. It was actually fun to watch her light up when she could see how the flow of history in one part of the continent could affect the flow in another. The maps in my reference book, a large "coffee table" style book, were excellent at showing the power bases of various kingdoms and just how they developed over the centuries.

Renata had a boyfriend, who I didn't know about until the third study session. We were taking a brief break and exchanging some small talk when I asked her about her personal life.

"I have a boyfriend, Bruno. That's not really his name, but he hates his real one, so when one of his coaches called him a Bruno, it kind of stuck," she laughed.

"Coaches?"

"Yeah. He's a linebacker on the football team."

"Oh, shit," I thought. "I wonder what he thinks of me spending time with his girlfriend."

"Uhhm, does he know about our study sessions?"

"Sure. He's okay with it. Besides, when we meet, he's always at practice, so it's not like he's going to show up here."

We were meeting twice a week now, Tuesdays and Thursdays. As it turned out, Bruno had practices on both those days. Lucky me, I thought. The last thing I needed was a jealous psycho linebacker on the hunt for me.

By the time midterms rolled around, I was confident that Renata would be okay with History. She was working hard on the subject and, to tell the truth, I was enjoying my time with her. I was also enjoying watching her do well. I began to identify with the pull of teaching for some people; that ability to help students understand a subject and achieve satisfaction as they succeeded.

At the end of the term, I was waiting to hear how Renata did in her mid-terms. It was no surprise when she passed European History with ease but it wasn't a foregone conclusion to her.

"I did it! I did it!" Renata cried loudly as she raced up to me in the hallway.

"Okay ... but you did what?" I smiled, fairly certain what she was referring to.

"I passed History," she gasped, almost out of breath. "Thanks to you, I did it!"

"Congratulations, Renata. I'm really pleased for you. You worked very hard for that and I'm delighted you were rewarded."

"We've got to celebrate," she said excitedly. "Let me and Bruno take you and your girlfriend out to dinner this weekend."

"Uhhm, that's very kind of you but you don't have to do that. Besides, I don't have a girlfriend," I admitted.

"No problem. I'll bring my roommate along. She's really nice and very pretty too." She wasn't going to be deterred easily.

"Look, Renata, I'm really happy for you but you don't have to do anything for me. It's enough that you passed. That makes me feel like it was worth the effort."

"Nope. I won't take no for an answer. I'll let you know where and when. See you," she said, skipping off to who knows where.

Great! Now I've got a date with a girl I've never met. A double date with a guy named Bruno who I've never met. How'd I get myself into this mess? Oh well, it's only for one dinner. I imagine on our skimpy funds, it'll be pizza and colas. It can't be that bad.

I suppose I should have had more confidence in Renata. I'd heard enough horror stories about blind dates that I guess that coloured my thinking. When I arrived at La Trattoria at six o'clock on Saturday evening I was pleasantly surprised that it was a nice, almost upscale restaurant. I walked into the reception area and a young lady asked if I had a reservation. I could see the room was almost full.

"Uhhm, I'm Hal Berglund and I'm meeting a Miss Di Gravio and her guests."

"Of course. Come with me," she said, picking up a menu. "They've already arrived."

I followed her, almost immediately feeling hunger pangs as I caught the wonderful aroma of cheese, garlic, tomato sauce, and any number of other scents. If nothing else, it put my concerns about the evening to rest and helped raise my expectations.

"Hi, Hal," Renata said, popping up from her seat as she spotted me. A big, dark-haired, good-looking guy rose slowly beside her and extended his hand.

"Hi, I'm Bruno Polipo." I took his hand, thankful that he didn't try and crush it. It was at that point that I looked over at the third person at our table and almost had to catch my breath.

She hadn't risen but then she didn't need to. I could see everything I needed to see as she sat there, nervously smiling as the introductions were made. She was as lovely as Renata but blonde and blue-eyed. Very easy on the eyes indeed.

"Hal, this is Jean Howcroft, my roommate. Jean, meet Hal Berglund, my rescuer in European History."

"Nice to meet you, Hal," she said, clearly nervous.

"Nice to meet you too," I responded. I pulled back my chair and sat.

"You've surprised me, Renata. I expected something a bit less elegant than this. It's really very nice and the smells are driving me crazy."

"Good, glad to hear it," she grinned. "Bruno insisted on it and I was hoping you'd be pleased too. Have you been here before?"

"Ah, no. It's a bit beyond my budget I'm afraid."

"We try to keep the prices reasonable," Bruno said, "but running a restaurant isn't easy these days. So much depends on the economy and loyal customers."

"We?" I asked.

"My parents own this restaurant. Once in a while, on a special occasion, I take advantage of that. This is definitely a special occasion. Renata was very worried about getting though her first six months and you really helped her. We're both very grateful, as are our parents."

The rest of the evening was filled with talk and outstanding food. Bruno did the ordering and I couldn't fault his choices. By the end of the evening I couldn't have eaten more if my life depended upon it. In the meantime I learned a lot more about my two hosts but little about my "date."

Bruno had no intention of getting involved with the family business. He was aiming for a law degree. Like me, he was second year and was having no problems with his studies. He wasn't the stereotypical linebacker in any way other than his physique. He was also quite witty and a very fine dinner companion. I wondered if we might become friends rather than just acquaintances.

Renata had already confessed she was looking for no more than an arts degree. Both she and Bruno would be the first in their families with a college degree and that was a badge of honour for her. The only thing I didn't learn that evening was Bruno's proper first name.

Jean Howcroft was quiet but not silent. She listened, she smiled, she added some comments now and then but otherwise was a happy passenger at the table. I tried a couple of times to engage her in conversation but either I chose the wrong topics or she was reluctant to talk. I did learn that she was taking the required courses for first year but planning on Poli-Sci for her major beginning next year. I tried to get her to tell me a little bit about why but I didn't get very far.

Just the same, she was intriguing. Very attractive, clearly quite bright based on Renata's compliments about her grades, and yet strangely reticent among the three of us. I didn't get any clue as to why until the meal was finished and we prepared to leave. As Jean rose, I saw her use both the chair and the table to support herself. She took a few steps and it was then obvious that she had difficulty walking. I quickly moved to her side and offered my arm. She smiled and took it as we moved slowly out of the restaurant.