The American College of Switzerland Zoo. James E. Henderson
down my back and grabbing my butt, I was frantically trying to think of a way to take her back to her dorm. She gave up quickly and almost tripped when she started to walk out of the bathroom. I bent down to help her with her panties (something I had never done before with anyone out of diapers), and we moved out. She started back toward the parlor, but I convinced her that the party was over, and we headed toward the elevator.
On the walk back, we meandered as I tried to guide her through the streets and she tried to play hide and seek in the shadows from the street lights. I suspected that she was trying to find a place to make out – and if I’d had a gallon of mouthwash, I might have been tempted. Then again, she was so far gone that she didn’t know what she was doing or who she was doing it with, so I guess that I wasn’t that tempted. I managed to escape a vomit-breath kiss at the stairs, but I could tell that Sam took offense at my escape. Oh well, another winning night! I should have gone with my first impression of Sam. What was her problem? She was nice looking. I suspected, with a little self-confidence, she could have been drop-dead gorgeous!
When I returned to Hell House, I surprised Tiny and Kaeti in our room. As I walked in, Kaeti dashed across the room with emotions flying across her face; first embarrassment, then a little anger as she looked back a Tiny, and then relief. Meanwhile Tiny was trying to levitate his six and a half-foot body off his bed.
“Geez, sorry!” I said as I started to back out.
“No, no please stay!” Kaeti said. “We were just –” Her eyes flashed around the room and alighted on Tiny’s big red skis. “– looking at Tiny’s skis!”
She then scanned the room and saw mine. I had almost forgotten they were there. “Are those yours in the corner?”
Quick thinking, I thought. “Yes, I got them at the PX before I came to school.”
Tiny had sat up and was looking frustrated. Kaeti walked over and separated my skis, then began flexing one like an archer testing a bow.
“Harts, huh, really flexible. They should be great in deep powder! Tiny’s Red Stars are really stiff. He needs that, given his size, but they won’t be as easy to turn.”
Kaeti then reached to the top of the ski and measured me with her eyes. “Hey, kiddo, how tall are you?”
“Five foot, nine and a half,” I exaggerated… well, I didn’t add “in shoes…”
“Huh, a little taller than me. Who measured these for you?”
“The guy at the PX, why?”
“Come here and reach for the top of your skis.”
I complied. That put me a little close to Kaeti; in fact I could feel warmth radiating from her. I reached up and could just curl the tips of my fingers over the end of the skis.
“These are a little long for you, even if you were an experienced skier, and you aren’t, right?”
“Is that bad?” At this point, Tiny set his elbows on his knees, supported his head between his large hands, and sighed.
“They’ll be harder to turn. The flexibility will help.” She hesitated for a minute. “The good news is they’ll be a lot more stable at high speed.”
“Okay, I guess…” Tiny shot me an evil eye from the bed. “I guess I’ll go visit Wilds.”
“That’s okay! We were just leaving,” Kaeti said, leveling an intense stare at Tiny. He got up with a sigh and they left.
Tiny returned about a half hour later when I was in bed. “Great timing Henderson!”
“Don’t look at me! We’ll have to work up some kind of signal. Hang a hat or something from the doorknob.” A grunt was Tiny’s only response.
To my surprise Gil started dating Sam shortly after that party. Maybe my stories of pantiless-fondling in the bathroom pricked his interest, so to speak, or maybe he felt she needed a father figure – fat chance! Anyway, they began to hit it off, and Sam started to get her act together. That was really good to see – but then I began wishing I had been able to effect the same change in her to my advantage… Anyway, Gil explained her to me. It seems that her parents had just told her that she was adopted. Instead of feeling love for those who took her in and raised her, she felt lied to by them all these years. She felt unloved by her adopted parents and rejected by her real parents. In fact, she felt that no one could possibly love her. Geez, with that explanation, maybe I didn’t envy Gil. He was taking on a big burden. He was obviously enjoying himself because Sam could be seen leaving his room at all hours, but this relationship wasn’t likely to last forever, and a rejection could just prove to Sam how unlovable she really was. That could be her last straw! Gil and I talked about that, and he knew the dangers but said that he was really getting to like Sam.
After a couple of dates, I started having a little more luck. Maybe confidence was my problem, too. One weekend night that didn’t have a party most of us were hanging out at Le Nord drinking beer and playing zim-zim. After my team was beat and I pulled away from the table, I noticed Jana, a freshman with long brown hair and large brown eyes, sitting with some friends and looking my way. Actually there were half a dozen guys around the game, but she might have been looking at me. I picked up my beer, walked over, and asked if I could pull up a seat. Beer, the great confidence builder! I started talking with the group but stayed focused on Jana. At first she was a little shyer than the others, but I managed to get through to her. She was from upstate California, somewhere in the mountains by a big lake. She loved the mountains and skiing. Once the ice was broken, we talked for quite a while. She even stayed with me when her friends headed back up to the dorm.
I escorted Jana back to the dorm and joined the legion of couples saying goodnight on the steps. The kiss was brief; but as she turned the corner on the stairs, she pulled her long brown hair over her left shoulder and looked back with her lovely, sparkling brown eyes and smiled. That held a hint of promise, didn’t it?
I was thinking about asking her out the next weekend when, from behind me, I heard an accented voice say, “Don’ push eet, Stallone!” Don’t push it, Stallone! Someone has a death wish! What was that accent, Spanish? As I turned to see who had said that, I found myself walking backwards up the stairs toward the girls’ dorm. Stallone was just a few feet from me. His hands were clenched near his waist, his head was cocked forward and down to the right, and his total focus was on some Hispanic freshman, Lopez, I think. “Loco” might have been a better name at that moment. The only thing I knew about Loco was he had braces. Girls get braces, not guys, and girls have their brace work done before college. Maybe it was a jet set thing. Anyway, Loco hopped up onto the balls of his feet, brought his fists to his chest and began bouncing in front of Stallone. His long black hair made him look a little taller than Stallone, but he wasn’t as muscular.
I backed up another step, totally focused on the two. Stallone hadn’t moved. Loco bounced forward a bit, and then it happened. I saw Stallone standing with his fists at his waist. He tightened his torso, let out a sharp, whooping exhale, which was accompanied by a snapping noise that sounded like a fist contacting flesh as the fists disappeared and reappeared on either side of his face. I was focused on Stallone, confused by the snapping sound and by losing track of his fists, until I realized that Lopez had stopped bouncing. My eyes flashed to his face. His eyes were white, his left knee, followed by his right, were bending in slow motion. He dropped to his knees, and then fell slowly forward, ending as his head made a loud popping sound against the floor. His arms made no attempt to arrest his fall. His face was turned toward me; and as I stared, I noticed a trickle of blood run across his lower lip and fall onto the floor. I hadn’t seen the punch! I was watching! I don’t think I blinked or looked away, but I hadn’t seen the punch! I guessed that explained the snapping noise, but his fists didn’t go there.
To me, everything moved in slow motion after that. Stallone, joined by several guys, walked out. Lopez started to come around. A couple of freshmen helped him to his feet. The side of his face was red, but the blood that was running down his chin and falling onto his white shirt was coming from inside his mouth. Someone mentioned that his braces probably