Chapter 8: Back to Normal

For the rest of the semester I concentrated on my studies and spent my spare time around home or working with the prospective councillor's staff. Civic elections were held on the last Monday in October and the frantic pace of trying to get our candidate's message out was ramped up to the max. There were times when I was spending more time on the campaign than on my studies but fortunately I wasn't yet falling behind. I would be happy when this was over with however despite the welcome income it provided.

When the results were in, our guy had lost but only by a couple of hundred votes. When I watched the returns on TV that night I was heartened to hear the so-called pundits suggest that his second place showing against a heavy favorite was a surprise and a credit to his organization and campaign. They said it augured well for his future.

While the campaign committee was disbanded a number of us were contacted by the provincial party committee and asked if we would work on the upcoming provincial campaign. The thinking was that the governing party might call an election in 1999, believing that the economy and the polls were just right. "Our" party wanted to be ready to go at a moment's notice. I was one of the people chosen from the old committee and I was delighted to sign on for the next campaign. I was moving up in political circles and being noticed.

It didn't take long for several young ladies to discover that I was unattached and I began to find myself in one or more of their company at lunch, the library or just walking between classes. At first I wasn't interested but, when I gave it more thought, I couldn't see myself being on my own for an indefinite period of time so I allowed myself to surrender gracefully and invited several of them out on dates, individually of course.

It was somewhat comical that I had become a target for a competition between some of these girls. It was a new experience for me and I tried hard not to take advantage of them. However, being a healthy male and they being attractive females, I have to confess that I allowed myself to succumb to their charms on several occasions. Looking back on it, I have no regrets. Neither they nor I were looking for a long-term relationship. I was, as I soon discovered, indulging myself in a typical college "hook up." Once I got used to the idea, I seemed to accept it more easily.

On the whole, my life seemed to be in balance. Although money wasn't a big issue my contribution to the political process was providing some welcome spending money. My parents had set aside a substantial amount for my college education and, since I chose to live at home, it was more than enough for even a graduate degree if I so chose.

And then, of course, there were the young ladies. It was well into the new year when I had a call from a familiar voice, Renata.

"Hi, Hal, it's Renata. How are you?"

"Renata! It's great to hear from you. I'm fine. How are you and Bruno?"

"We're both good, thanks for asking. But ... I wasn't calling about that."

"Oh ... what's up?"

"It's Jean. She's left school and gone home."

"Oh ... I'm sorry to hear that. Did she flunk out?"

"No ... worse. She got pregnant."

"Oh no, not Jean. God, I thought she was smarter than that."

"So did she. She was on the pill, but I guess it's one of those cases where they aren't foolproof."

"Who's the father?"

"She doesn't know. That the worst part. It could be one of three or four guys she thinks."

"Oh, God! I feel badly for her. I had no idea she had been so careless. Did you have a clue, Renata?"

"I knew she was going out regularly ... even on weeknights sometimes. I had no idea she was screwing so many different guys. She really has messed up her life now. Her parents will be really upset with her. They're kind of high society types. This will not go over very well with them according to Jean."

"How is she handling it?"

"Not very well. I'm not sure if it's about being pregnant or what her parents will think. She's not very stable right now. I hope her parents don't do anything rash. She needs support right now, not recriminations."

"I wish there was something I could do. If you think of something let me know. It's going to be tough for her and she's going to need some friends."

"Thanks, Hal. I'll e-mail you her address and you can write her or send her a card or something. I'm sure she'd like to hear from you. She still mentions you from time to time."

"I wonder why. But just the same, I'll send her a note and maybe some flowers."

"That's really nice of you, Hal. She made a huge mistake when she left you. She was never as happy as when you were around."

"Thanks, Renata, for letting me know. If I hear anything from her I'll call you."

"Yeah ... good. Take care, Hal. Bruno says Hi."

I hung up and shook my head. Pregnant and didn't know who the father was. What kind of a life was she leading? Her handicap sure didn't slow her down by the sound of it. More likely she had fallen into the old trap she was in at high school: sex for the sake of sex. What a shame!

I found a nice card and wrote a note telling her that I was sorry she had dropped out of school but if she needed someone to talk to, please call. I wished her good luck and had the note delivered with some flowers. I never heard from her again.

I finished second year and began to plan for third year. Steve Walters and I had been hanging out on Friday afternoons and having a beer or two before heading home. I'd kicked around some course electives that I thought might make sense for me and Steve seemed to agree. I was heading for a simple bachelor's degree but I wanted to be as well-rounded as possible. My major remained journalism but now political science had taken second place.

The more I'd become involved with the political party the more interested I became in what made political parties successful. What were the mechanics of the party? I had been noticed by the provincial party and now I had been introduced to a couple of the federal party gurus. I was getting a name and it appeared to be very favourable. Perhaps politics, in one form or another, was in my post-college future.

I pretty much skated through my last two years of college. Part of the reason was I found the courses interesting and so it was easy to keep current and do the required studying. The other reason was that I still hadn't come up with a future objective for myself. Was I going to be a journalist, work inside a political party, freelance writer or corporate shill? To be honest with myself, I was still fascinated by the political process and I was trying to absorb as much of what was going on around me as I could. If the opportunity was there it was the most likely place to go.

At some point, Steve Walters would include his latest girlfriend on our Friday get-togethers and, later on, I would as well, just so the ladies wouldn't feel excluded as we talked. Both of us subscribed to the female of the month club, never really getting involved with any one woman for any length of time.

During my third year, I ran into Renata and Bruno at the pub one Friday afternoon and invited them to join us. As it turned out, they had fallen into the same habit but just the two of them more often than not. It didn't take much to convince them to join us on a regular basis and so our group grew from two to four to six and occasionally more if the situation arose. It was almost like a private club, at least for the four core members.

It was near the end of our final year, just before commencement ceremonies, that we began to discuss what came afterwards. Bruno would return to Ottawa for his law degree while Steve would return as a newly crowned lecturer: not quite a professor but well on his way at the ripe old age of twenty-eight. I had no plan yet but my employer was suggesting that, if I contacted them in September, they might have a permanent position for me, working for the federal and provincial party. At least I had that to fall back on.

"So," Steve began as we hoisted our first beer of the afternoon, "what's your plan for the summer, Hal?"

"Don't know for sure. I'm tempted to take off to Europe and backpack for the summer. I got a taste of Italy a few years ago and I really enjoyed it."

"Yeah ... I heard about that. You just want to find the closest nude beach and go hunting," Renata jeered.

I nodded since there was no companion female with me that day.

"There's that too," I admitted with a grin.

"I'd love to do that," Renata said with a faraway look. "What do you think, Bruno? Could we do that? It wouldn't take much money."

"I don't know, dear. It would take me away from all the fun of working in the restaurant all summer. I'd really miss those stinkin' hot days and the rude customers."

I saw Renata's eyes go wide when she realized he wasn't squashing the idea.

"What about you, Steve?" I asked.

I could see he was carefully considering it before answering.

"Maybe. I could use it for some research, I guess. I've got some money saved up so, if it isn't too expensive, it could work," he nodded.

"Why don't you guys let me do some digging on the internet and see what we can find for flights and hostels and that kind of thing?" Renata asked. "I can e-mail you what I learn and we can talk about it again next week. Will that work?"

She got agreement from everyone and, although we didn't know it at the time, the die was cast. We were going to Europe and we would spend a wonderful summer there.

Renata attacked her project with demonic ferocity, working out all kinds of scenarios of where to go and how to get there. In the end, a cheapo discount charter flight to Amsterdam or Frankfurt looked like the best way to get to the continent. Then Eurorail passes for five countries over two months would give us some flexibility. Bus could fill in the gaps.

All of us except Steve qualified for Youth rates, 2^nd class, which save over a third on costs. As a group we decided that we would chip in for the difference for Steve since he was the tightest for cash. At first he refused but, since Renata was going to make all the arrangements on line, we would look after it and he wouldn't be able to turn us down.

Right from the beginning this was a fun trip. We were a bit of an odd bunch, three guys and a gal, but we connected with so many other young people during that summer. All of us had facility in French although any resemblance between Quebecois and the French of France, Belgium, and Switzerland was purely coincidental. In addition, Bruno spoke serviceable Italian while I had some smattering of Norwegian. All-in-all we could manage no matter where we were.