Chapter 11: The Happy Times

May 1974

It was Friday and it had been almost a week since Hildy returned to Rochester for her Aunt Mildred's birthday ... Jim had just finished his last final exam and returned to his apartment. The days of Rich being his room mate were waning and Jim was thinking that the two of them might make a final tour of the bars that they had frequented throughout their academic careers.

As he fixed himself a sandwich Jim was remembering the prior Sunday taking Ashley back to her apartment as the purple Duster made tracks in the opposite direction. As the Rustmobile meandered through the College Town streets on its way to Ashley's apartment he had expected a 'thank you' or some kind of acknowledgment. He wondered if Ashley might have been angry. Maybe she had been hoping to be gang raped and masturbated upon while in a drunken stupor, in which case she should have told him to butt out.

As they were waiting at a red light he remembered what Hildy had said to him as they were watching over Ashley the night before:

"I know what that feels like, to be looked at and laughed at and shamed. To be the subject in everyone's joke, for everyone to be talking about you in the worst way. It's worse than humiliating. It makes you feel like you're nothing."

So, as Ashley said nothing Jim decided to say nothing, also. Jim saw Rich's car parked in front of a building and he knew that he had found Ashley's apartment and that Rich and Chelsea were still there.

He stopped and Ashley opened her door and climbed out. She was clutching the brown, paper grocery store bag with her underwear and shoes. Jim watched her stumble and as she did one of the straps on her gown broke and her boobs fell out of the gown.

She pulled the fabric up over them and made her way at last to the front door. Jim felt a little guilty as he thought about the argument at dinner the night before and the irony of it all, but he didn't laugh.

She knocked and in a few minutes Chelsea came to the door in a bathrobe. Ashley followed Chelsea inside and Jim drove away.

As his thoughts drifted back to the present he wondered what Ashley had said to Rich and Chelsea about everything that happened. As Rich later told Jim, Ashley didn't say much. Jim accepted that because he knew that she hadn't remembered very much.

"Maybe, someday it will start coming back to her in bits and pieces. Maybe—but I hope not."

As Jim was chewing his sandwich and thinking about all these things the phone rang. He thought it might be Rich calling but it was Professor Stark's secretary.

"Nothing special," she said, "just come as you are as soon as you can."

He asked her the purpose, but she just said that she only knew that the Professor wanted to see him.

"Maybe it's a last pitch for the Master's Program. At this point I might take him up on it."

He looked at himself in the mirror and decided if the secretary had been able to see him as she spoke she might have omitted the 'as you are' part.

"I'll make myself look like I should have looked when she said 'as you are'."

He went into the bathroom to shave and comb his hair. He found a clean sport shirt on a hanger in his closet and a pair of khakis. He traded his sneakers for a pair of loafers.

Jim walked into the ante room of Professor Stark's office where his secretary had her desk. The Professor's office door was closed.

"They're waiting for you inside," she said. "Go right in."

"They?"

He walked past the secretary's desk, declining to ask her who else was in the inner office. He knocked on the door and opened it.

"Come in, Jim," the Professor said as he sat at his meeting table. "Come right in."

Jim looked around. Professor Stark was seated at the head of the table. To his right was an empty chair that Jim assumed was reserved for him. In the two chairs on the Professor's left were the two men whom from Douglas Chemical whom he met in his interview over a month before.

Jim walked further into to the office and the three men stood up.

"You remember Gerry Tyler and Frank Cutler from Douglas Chemical?" Professor Stark asked.

"Of course," Jim replied. "Nice to see you again, Mr. Tyler—Mr. Cutler. Always good to see you Professor Stark."

He shook hands with the three men. They saw the elastic bandage on his right wrist.

"What do we have here?" Mr. Tyler asked.

"I strained it at a track meet the other day," Jim said.

"Jim is a pole vaulter on the University Track Team," Professor Stark explained.

"I'd forgotten about that," Cutler said.

"Interesting," Mr. Tyler said, "how does a person find time for athletics in addition to designing Bromine Plants and all the other work a Chem E. student has to do?"

"Jim is at the top of this year's class," Professor stark interjected.

"I found that it's not that hard," Jim answered, "especially with track because I can schedule most of my workouts in the early morning. It's just necessary to plan ahead for what needs to be done and budget time for everything."

"Budgeting time," Mr. Tyler said. "It's a good lead-in to what we need to discuss today. So, let's have a seat and get down to business."

Each man took his chair at the conference table. Mr. Cutler took a manila folder out of his briefcase but did not open it. Mr. Tyler led the discussion.

"I think I told you last time that I liked your Bromine Project," he said. "George said that it's the best project of the year. Of course you earned an "A" on it."

"I didn't know that, sir," Jim replied. "I would say that when I turned it in I believed it was my best effort. Of course Professor Stark helped me a lot."

"Don't be so modest, young man," Mr. Tyler said. "I just reviewed it again before you arrived. It's an excellent piece of work by any standard."

When Mr. Tyler called Jim 'young man' it made him remember the incident in MacIver's Bar when Hildy's father had called him 'young fella'. Then, the appellation had served to buttress his resentment. But Mr. Tyler gave him the opposite feeling.

"I guess it depends who is doing the talking," Jim thought. "One man I respect and the other I am unable to respect. Words mean little, but the person behind the words means everything."

Jim realized he was daydreaming while something important was going on. He snapped back to attention.

"Like I said, a top-quality job by any standard."

The older man paused for a second and then began to speak again.

"We'd like to make you an offer. You would be a fine addition to Douglas. Of course, you would do well, too," he said. "Are you still interested?"

"I believe so, sir," Jim said. "Of course, it depends on the details. I have a chance to stay at Campbell another year for my Masters and..."

"That's why we think you'll be interested in this offer," Cutler broke in.

"Here it is, Jim," Mr. Tyler said. "It's different than our standard job offer. It's something that we're trying out for the first time. It's the reason we took so long in getting back to you. So let me lay it out for you."

"I'm ready," Jim said.

Mr. Tyler took a deep breath and began.

"Our company is planning a major expansion," Mr. Tyler began "but, not this year. In two or three years we'll need a lot of engineering talent—the best we can get—well on the road to their Masters and PE licenses. You'll be a big part of it, but we want to put you on hold for a year."

"I appreciate it sir, but..." Jim began.

"Listen to the rest, Jim," Professor Stark interjected.

"Of course, at some time in the future we would want you to have a Master's Degree," Mr. Tyler went on. "Our thought is to have you stay here at Campbell next year and do your Master's right away. After that we'll bring you out to Douglas and put you to work. What do you think?"

"I hadn't expected anything like this," Jim said. "I need to think..."

"There's more," Cutler broke in. "Listen to the rest of it."

"Douglas would be willing to pay your tuition and furnish you an adequate stipend for your living expenses. It wouldn't be at your regular salary, of course. We would ask you to concentrate your major in Plant Design. Do you have an idea of what your design thesis might be?"

"I just turned in my final project," Jim said, "I haven't thought new projects yet."

"We'd like you to do something on an upgrade to the isocyanate production process. We're projecting a major move forward on polyurethane products and we have to improve our isocyanate process to improve our source of that starter compound."

"I think that would be a project with some meat on the bones," Jim said.

"We're contracting with George as a consultant on the overall project. You will be working with him as a Research Assistant in addition to your course work and thesis. You will also be asked to TA a course because Douglas and the College of Engineering are sharing the cost of your tuition."

"Which course?" Jim asked.

"Hasn't been decided yet, for sure," Professor Stark said.

"On top of all that, we want you to take and pass Part A of the PE exam. Also, we're asking that you sign the rights to your Bromine plant design to us," Mr. Tyler said.

"You're going to use my design?"

"Maybe, and it also allows us to classify some of what we're paying you as the purchase price of the sale of your design rights to us, rather than as salary to an employee. You have to remember that this is a new concept of recruiting that we're trying and a lot of people had to review it, so there are a lot of fingerprints on the details."

Mr. Tyler nodded at Cutler who opened the manila folder in front of him.

"Here are the numbers," he said. "If you work for Douglas for five years you won't be asked to repay your tuition. If you leave before then, we would ask for a proportional repayment. It's all explained in the contract I brought."

Mr. Cutler pointed out the applicable clauses. Jim looked at the salary and stipend numbers and they were better than good.

"We'll bring you out to Douglas from mid-June through mid-August for an orientation," Mr. Tyler explained. "Then you'll be back here to start school. What do you say?"

"You'll have an expense account when you're traveling in addition to your regular payment," Cutler added.

Jim looked at the men and then at the contract in front of him.

"I hate to ask for too much," Jim said.

"All we can do is say 'no'," Cutler said.

"The fact is, sir," Jim began, "is that I'm just about out of money. My car would never make it out to Michigan. Any chance of an advance on my stipend?"

Cutler and Tyler looked at one another.

"Rent a car one-way to get yourself out to Michigan," Cutler said. "The sales force turns in their company cars every three years. We'll arrange to let you buy one of those at a bargain. You can pay it off after you've gone on full salary. We'll send you a company credit card so that you'll have some money to travel on."

Jim looked at the pile of papers staring back at him from the manila folder. In a way, they reminded him of Hildy and his problem and how he had always been sure that the right moment would come along. It was a happy moment for him. At the same time, there was a tinge of sadness because he would be saying 'good-bye' to the quest.

"Is there anything else, Jim?" Mr. Tyler asked.

"I just need to borrow a pen so I can start signing," he answered.

It took about ten minutes to go through all the various contracts and agreements before everything was official.

"Welcome aboard," Mr. Cutler said as Jim signed the final paper.

There were two sets of papers and Professor Stark asked his secretary for an envelope for Jim to use to retain one copy.

"Mr. Connolly will be with us for one more year, Irene," the professor told his secretary.

"Very good," the woman said and smiled at Jim and gave him a nod.

Jim felt good. He sensed change. Forty-five minutes before that moment he had been a person of 'someday'. With his signature he'd taken a step forward to being a person of 'now' and an object of others' expectations.

It was what he'd always wanted and it had come to rest on his shoulders like an eagle returning to its nest. He felt that he should be overwhelmed by it all, but the feeling of trepidation just wasn't there for him to clutch to his chest like a protective blanket.

"I should be shaking like a leaf," he thought. "Maybe it's Hildy's voice calming me down."

"Congratulations," Mr. Tyler said as he rose.

The other three men rose from their chairs, too.

"Thank you, sir," Jim said as Mr. Tyler grasped his hand. "I would never have hoped for something like this. You won't be sorry that you offered it to me."

He shook hands all around and took his leave. He made a mental note to visit Professor Stark the next day and thank him.

He left the building and walked to the old Rustmobile that would soon be retired. The old car had seen him through many good and bad days. He knew that he would have to leave the old car behind, just like many other boyhood trappings.

He knew it was the beginning of happy times. He started the car and started off for his apartment. He would call his parents right away with the news. Hildy wouldn't be home until later. He planned to call her then.

Jim decided that since his exams were finished a visit would be better than a phone call to relay his news. He sat at the kitchen table waiting for Rich to return. He was too excited to eat. He popped open a beer and put on a record to listen to while he waited. He got out a pad of paper and started to jot down some figures.

He decided that the stipend from Douglas Chemical would be enough to allow him to re-rent the apartment for another year, but without a room mate. He decided to finish his beer and then go upstairs to see if the landlord was available. He didn't think that the apartment had been rented yet. It was a great apartment and it would be even better if (no offense to Rich) Hildy could spend a few weekends with him in it.

His beer can was sweating on the table in front of him. He started thinking about all the cans had passed between the refrigerator, him and Rich in the two years that they had lived in the apartment.

"Time for a change," he thought.

He jumped out of his chair and got a large water glass out of the cupboard. He poured in the beer and watched the foamy head rise almost to the top of the glass.

"That's the first beer I've had in this apartment with a head on it."

It was still beer, the same brand that he always drank with something new. He still had a foot in the old and one in the new. The analogy seemed to make sense to him for a minute, but then he realized that he was reaching for wisdom where there was none.

"I'm too wound up. I need to relax."

He sat back in his chair and listened to the album that was playing. He was playing one of his favorites, Jim Croce's "You Don't Mess Around with Jim". The album was nearly over. It started playing the last song.

It was his favorite song on the album and the last one on Side 2. He sat back and listened to the words and let the beer quench his thirst.

As the song played he thought about Hildy and how it would be different and better when he told her about his prospects this time. He would make sure of that. First he would see his parents and spend some time with them. He decided to reserve Sunday for Hildy and maybe a picnic in that same park would be a good idea if the weather stayed warm.

"So what do you say to some bar hopping?"

It was Rich. Jim hadn't even heard him come in.

"That's what I've been waiting for," Jim answered. "Let's get some dinner first."

"I'm ready when you are. We can take my car."

The next day was Saturday and Jim wasn't out of the sack as early as usual. He and Rich had visited some of the places they had called home over the past five years and the headache he was coping with was worth it. Jim was grateful that they had managed to do it without making fools of themselves. They spent most of the time reminiscing at the bar near the shotgun factory.

Rich was stirring, too. Jim began getting dressed after he got the coffee started.

"We'll need an extra scoop of grounds in this pot."

The smell of the percolating coffee was filtering into the bedroom as he finished getting dressed. He stumbled into the bathroom to clean up.

"It's a good thing I stuck to beer."

He was looking around the kitchen for something to eat. He was sure that some breakfast would make him feel better, if he could only summon the courage to close his eyes and swallow it.

"Got the blood transfusion ready?"

It was Rich who had shuffled into the kitchen.

"I'll take mine intravenous," he said. "Get the tubing and hook me up."

"C'mon, Rich," Jim relied, "don't be a wimp. If you want to dance, you've got to pay the fiddler."

"I know, I know. I said that just so you could hear me say it to you one last time."

"I guess that it's true love, then," Jim said. "This doesn't mean that we're engaged, does it?"

"Give me a ring and I'll let you know."

Jim had a bowl of cereal and milk on the table in front of him. It looked like it was staring back.

"Down the hatch!"

He shoveled in a spoonful and decided that he would probably live, after all.

"Speaking of being engaged, how do you think Hildy will react to your job offer?"

"I'm expecting that she'll react pretty well. She'll like it because I'll be staying here for another year and that will give us time to sort things out. And, by the way, we're not engaged."

"That's what they all say," Rich said and then slurped down some coffee.

"I like it, too. I'll have a decent car and some extra money so I can take her to a few more places than a diner and the movies."

"And you can help each other get rid of your problems," Rich said.

"That, too."

"Do me a favor and send me a postcard when you finally do the deed," Rich said.

"How about a photo of the Japanese battle flag?"

"I was going to mention it," Rich said, "but I thought it might be asking too much."

Jim finished his coffee and cereal and set the dishes in the sink. Rich was still working on his.

"I'm going to take a trip to Rochester and give my parents the news and then I'll take Hildy to lunch on Sunday and tell her. I'll be back on Sunday night."

"That's okay," Rich said. "I'm going to start packing today and take Chelsea out tonight. You can get going if you want to. I'll clean the dishes."

It was nearly three in the afternoon when Jim arrived at his parents' home. He gave Hildy a call and they made a date for a picnic lunch the next day. He waited to tell his parents about his new job until dinner.

"So, you will get your Masters, after all," his mother said after he'd laid out the details for them.

"That's right, Ma. It's better than any offer that I could have hoped for. They told me that it's a new program that Douglas is trying out. So, I really have to come through or they'll wish that's have given it to someone else—or cancel it altogether."

"It's obvious they recognized all your good qualities," his mother pronounced.

Jim shook his had and laughed a little.

"I would be willing to bet that Professor Stark setting me up with the Douglas people counted a whole lot more than my good looks," Jim said.

His mother threw up her hands.

"That's one fault you've still got, Jim. You're far too modest."

"No, really Ma..."

But his mother wasn't listening. She'd gotten up from the table to serve dessert.

"I'll be pretty busy next year," Jim said. "I've already got my thesis assignment—and it's not easy. I have courses on top of that and they want me to be a Teaching Assistant for an undergrad course, as well. I'm also going to be a Research Assistant for Professor Stark and I have to prep for the first part of the Professional Engineer's exam."

"Jim, can you handle all that?" his father asked.

"I'll have to, Dad. It's what Douglas is expecting of me. I think they're trying to see if I've got the stuff to handle it. Anyway, the research with Professor Stark ties in to my thesis, so that will help."

His father let out a breath and shook his head.

"Well, you won't have to worry about the track team. That will save you some time."

"And I'll have some money and a new car, so that will take away a few worries. It won't be easy, but I'll do it."

Jim's mother set a cake on the table and began slicing wedges from it and putting it on little plates.

"It's almost unbelievable," his father said. "You worked hard for five years to get this. You deserve it Jim."

Jim shook his head.

"Not really, Dad. There are a lot of guys that could have deserved it just as much. I was lucky. I had some special people behind me. My whole education was like a gift-wrapped present set on a table in front of me. All I had to do was untie the bow and be careful of what was inside. Now it's up to me to do what I have to."

"Now, Jim," his father said, "you don't..."

"I wouldn't have said it, Dad, if I didn't believe it."

Jim's father looked stunned, which was something that Jim hadn't seen many times.

"I—I just remembered—there's something I have to check on out in the garage," his father said.

Jim's father rose from his chair and made his way to the door that led outdoors.

"It meant a lot to your father to hear you say that," Jim's mother said, "and to me, too, of course. But Jim, don't be afraid to take some credit for yourself. You deserve it. Your father and I and even Professor Stark are just the supporting cast. You're the star of the show at this moment."

"I meant what I said, Ma."

"I know you did, Jim, and I think that makes me even more proud than your big news tonight. But you should think about what I said. There's plenty of credit to go around for all of us, so go ahead and take a helping of it."

"Okay, Ma, I'll remember."

His mother paused for a second and Jim knew she had something else on her mind.

"Are you going to tell Hildy the news tomorrow?" she asked.

"Of course, Ma."

"She'll be so happy, Jim."

"She might not be happy when she finds out how much attention I'll have to pay to my work and how little time I'll have to pay attention to her."

"She'll understand—I know she will. She'll be happy because you will have a whole year to work things out. When will we get to meet her?"

Jim knew that he should have expected to be grilled by his mother on the 'Hildy question', but it took him by surprise.

"Maybe I should go see what Dad's doing, ' Jim said.

"I'm right here," his father said, standing in the doorway. "So, when are we going to meet this young lady?"

"Maybe sooner than you think. I was going to tell you later."

He took two tickets out of his wallet and placed them near his father's place at the table.

"Here are your tickets to the track meet next Saturday," Jim said.

"Okay, but what's that got to do..."

"I also bought three tickets for Hildy and her parents," Jim explained. "I wanted Hildy to have the chance to see me compete once before I hang 'em up and I thought it might be a good way to patch things up with her father—sort of two birds with one stone"