Tuesday, September 25, 2012

This Here Is The Place Where I Will Stand



While my first college romance had crashed and burned hard, things were actually going relatively well as I entered my second semester at Euphegenia.  I had actually earned pretty decent grades in my first semester.  I had taken five classes and earned four B’s and an F.  Ironically, the F was in a course the school required all freshmen to take, a completely made-up bullshit class called College Success.  I’m not even sure it filled any actual requirement and therefore was essentially a forced elective.  While I was no stranger to telling my folks there was an F (or 3) on my report card, I was especially sick having to tell them I’d failed a class at the college level.  To my surprise however, my dad actually laughed about once I told him the one class I’d bombed was called College Success.  The straight line of B’s above the one F also helped to dull the blade a little.  I wasn’t exactly working my way towards earning the phrase “with honors” after my name but as is often my attitude when it comes to my own shortcomings, whatever.
I was even happy to have Artemis back from break.  Somewhere about halfway through our first semester, I cracked the code to living with my roommate.  Actually, once the basketballs season got into full-swing, he was never even around.  He got up before me every day and even though I was usually awake before he left, I acted like I wasn’t.  And he was usually so tired from practice or actual games, he was out cold by 9:00 o’clock and I never came back to the room before midnight.  If wasn’t at rehearsal, I was out with a group or out for coffee, or I was just out prowling the campus thinking about life, the universe, and everything. 
Truth be told our détente wasn’t really due to avoiding each other.  In fact, we started to really have fun hanging out in the room together.  He began to listen to some of my weird music, and we talked, as much as Artemis would talk.  Then one night, I was sitting in one of the little so-called lounges in the dorm with a couple other guys, including MaRek.  The conversation was primarily about MaRek and the fabulous life he claimed to have already lived in his 19 years.  Then again, his changed often as well, anywhere from 18 (wunderkind) to 22 ("but don't tell anyone that!")  Truth be told, based on his version, I wondered why he was even bothering going to school.  He apparently had taken meetings with numerous celebrity producers and directors, as well as being on a first-name basis with Lorne Michaels and most of the 1992 cast of Saturday Night Live.  Again, all bullshit, but made for great stories.  Never let the truth interfere with a good story.  Somehow the subject got around to me that evening.  I mentioned that I was not loving life at school at the time and was really considering leaving, even after my breakdown/revelation.  MaRek was the one who actually said Artemis had told him that if I ever left, he would leave.  It really struck me.  And even though it came from the resident pathological liar, there were times when you could tell he was telling the truth.  Often it was when he seemed the least passionate about what he was saying.  When it almost seemed inconsequential.  That usually meant he was telling the truth only because it wasn’t worth the effort to make up a lie.  And I knew that Artemis and JaCobb had shared a conversation once a few days prior.  Specifically because Artemis came back to the room and asked who that freaky gayish guy who sat at his table in the commons and asked twenty questions about me was.   
 It sounds strange but I suddenly felt responsible for Artemis.  And it reminded me how much I liked the guy and how much he made me laugh all the time.  It made it easier to ignore the hair gel in my microwave and dried pickles on the wall.  And hell, I had my own peccadilloes that he never complained about.  When I told him that my parents had given me a little Christmas tree and box of ornaments for our room and I was going to hang it upside down from the ceiling with duct tape, he didn’t bat an eye.  Well, he shook his head at me, but went right along with it.  In fact he helped me hang it and put the ornaments on. 
On one weekend back to Wisconsin, I went down in the basement and grabbed an old acoustic guitar that my belonged to my stepmother but she never touched.  I had actually attempted guitar lessons with it when I was 14, but as desperately as I wanted to be a rock star, I was not disciplined enough to practice more than five minutes before each lesson.  So I snuck it into the car and took it back to school with me as s surprise for my roomy.  Hell, I knew he could play pretty much anything and thought it would be cool for him to work on the guitar for a while.  And I was right.  He picked it up that first night, tuned it up and was picking out a couple of the “white guy songs” I played a lot in the room.  He had a particular affinity for She Talks to Angels by the Black Crowes and within about 20 minutes and five listenings, he could play it note for note.  Or if not note for note, so close you couldn’t tell the difference.  When we were in the room together, we were usually either playing Sega Genesis, or we were playing and singing music.  Regardless of what I ever did on stage or in any other Theatrical capacity at Euphegenia, some of my best and favorite performances were Artemis and I in our room singing the Black Crowes.
I even started dragging him down to the radio station with me and making him bring the guitar.  We’d do songs live on the air.  I know it violated the Christian music only rule, but I figured fuck it.  Nobody listened to the station anyway, and even less people listened after 10:00 PM.  And in our defense, we did do a gospel song too.  It was a track from the movie Leap of Faith.  It was the flick where Steve Martin played a charlatan faith healer whose bus breaks down in a small Kansas town.  An extremely underrated movie with among other things a great soundtrack.  I’ve often thought some smart producer could turn it into one hell of a Broadway show.  It’s worked for far far lamer movies.
So anyway, short story long, Artemis and I were getting along well again and the living arrangement was fine.  In fact another friend of ours had decided to transfer to Euphegenia from another Bible school and the three of us scored a larger room in the subterranean level of the dorm.  The rooms in the basement were meant for four students, but we were able to get one with just three.  So at the end of January, Milton came to join us.  Mil was another celebrity in high school, again in no small part to being a black kid in a mostly white school.  But while Artemis was often shy and reserved, Milton suffered from an excess of personality and social skills.  He loved people, and especially loved people with vaginas.  Mil looked a little like Wesley Snipes with a high-top fade, and he literally had a body that looked like it had been sculpted from onyx with a chisel.  Yes, that’s very homoerotic, but in this case it’s just true.  He also found it hilarious to walk around the room naked, and he lived up to another stereotype too, mother fucker! 
Milton was a friend, but I was a little apprehensive about his arrival.  About a year prior, he had cornered me in a coat closet and threatened to beat the piss out of me.  There was a girl named Andi who’d come to Highland when we were juniors, and she was in a couple plays with me.  She was beautiful, even if her teeth were slightly bucked and had a great personality.  She was the perfect, white pastor’s daughter.  On the surface she was the picture of Chastity and Christian youth.  I was in love with her.  And she loved that attention.  But she chose Reed, the math teacher’s son who was a quiet, , non-threatening, toe-headed WASP kid.  He was so blonde he was transparent, and on a scale from 1 to 10, his personality was a – 3.  They went to all the school functions together and were a celebrated virginal couple.  But secretly Andi and Milton had developed a little thing on the side.  Mil would later tell me in detail about little closet and basement excursions they had when Reed was only a room away.  Any other girl, I confess I might have high-fived Mil.  But I wanted that girl, and this was a slap in my face at multiple angles.  It really pissed me off. 
The night of our homecoming banquet (yes we had a banquet not a dance because again, dancing = sex) they asked all of us seniors to pose for a picture.  Andi was right in front of me.  We had been very close for a long time, but things had really grown frosty between us, mostly because of her current romantic choices.  She and Reed had apparently broken up, unbeknownst to me.  Milton was running late (or maybe wasn’t even coming) and someone asked her where he was.  She responded somewhat venomously “I don’t know, and everyone keeps asking me that!”
“Yeah well, goes with the territory” I quipped.   
No one was speaking to me, but for some reason my subconscious went on auto-pilot.  It’s not exactly the nastiest comment.  In fact, it actually doesn’t make that much sense if you really analyze it.  It was just a snide comment that popped into my head and slipped out my mouth before I could stop to think.  Andi didn’t say anything, but she definitely heard it, and she knew what I was implying.  She’d been fucking around on with Mel and their dirty little secret was so well kept that only the entire student body knew about it.  And from what Milton told us, their secret was a filthy one indeed.  For the record, she’s the picture of a perfect pastor’s wife in Pennsylvania now.  You’d never guess the things she did to Milton’s big cock in the dark when she’s directing the choir with her mouth open wide . . . in worship. 
As soon as the group picture was over, she must have rushed to Mil, who had appeared wearing a white jacket and black tie and looked very much like he should be singing in a 50’s doo-wop group.  Ten minutes later as I was chatting with some people, Mil rolled up on me and said we needed to talk.  He basically routed me into the coat room, followed by who I can only assume was his muscle, Charlie.  I won’t say Charlie’s last name either, but his little brother was recently a finalist on American Idol and finished fourth for the season.  Charlie and I had always been friendly and never had beef, so that really annoyed me that he got involved and took Mil’s side.  He was standing behind Milton just trying to look menacing.  Meanwhile, Charlie was a goofy poor white kid who weighed about 90 pounds soaking wet.  But it was the glaring at me and grinning that really got me.  He acted like that punk in The Karate Kid who kept taunting "get him a body bag!"  So Charlie, fuck you and your brother!   
Mil put on his tough guy voice and said Andi told him what I’d said and he was pissed.  It was none of my business, I should shut up, and he was going to kick my ass.  I have never been a fighter, but I am a big guy and consider myself strong.  Doesn’t mean I know how to throw a punch.  With Charlie, I think I had pretty decent odds.  But I am confident now as I was then that Milton could and would have beaten my ass to a pulp. 
Fortunately I’d also know Milton for four years.  Again, I felt like this threat was not only terrifying, it was a betrayal to the friendship I’d thought we’d had.  Whatever happened to bro’s before ho’s?  So I went all Professor X on his dumb ass and turned the whole situation around.  Yes, I’d said that to Andi, but it was because I felt she was playing my boy Mil.  She was making him out to be a chump and I couldn’t stand by for that.  She could date a chump like Reed in public, but had to keep Milton hidden in the dark?  Why?  'Cause he was black, that's why!  And that shit ain't right!  Thank God he bought it.  Milton backed down and told me something like it wasn’t right and Andi's sensitive, blah blah.  Whatever.  I’m sure she was sensitive, having seen the size of that seal club swinging between his legs.  Regardless, he let me off and we went about the evening, sans ass whooping. 
After a couple weeks, I brought that night up when Mil and Artemis and I were just sitting around our room.  Miltonjust laughed.  He said he’d forgotten all about that.  He actually made fun of Charlie for trying to get involved.  In his own way, Mil actually kind of apologized.  I was just glad he wasn’t secretly still harboring the grudge.  I actually liked Mil and found him endlessly entertaining.  He was smooth and watching him work people was a thing of beauty.  He began dating the sweetest girl, Delia, who was a beautiful, strong, young black woman with a great voice.  Speaking and singing.  We'd have conversations when she'd call the room for Mil and it made me melt.  Of course, it later turned out he was secretly plugging a white senior I didn’t know too well named Shana.  Shana, who had a pretty scary Jamaican boyfriend about whom many rumors of drugs and gang affiliations swirled.  True or not, he looked a bad motherfucker.  The summer after our freshman year, Shana was still living on campus and her roommate came home to discover Shana in the shower with Milton behind her, helping her find the soap.  Milton was summarily kicked out of Euphegenia and went back to Milwaukee.  Which is probably for his own good, as word got out quick Shana's Bob Marley boyfriend wasn't about the peace and good vibes.  He was apparently looking to chat with Milton.  
Mil found me on MySpace a few years ago and we exchanged a few emails, but really, it isn’t like we’ll be getting together soon.  And really, who the fuck still goes on MySpace?!?!? 

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