The Excess Road
Chapter Forty: Dashed
The days were getting hot so I made an oath not to party and clear up. I wasn’t smoking as many cigarettes.
The second semester went by in flashes and pauses, a series of abrupt edits. Some weeks seemed like they never happened and some days lasted an Alaskan winter. I didn’t know where I stood because people for the most part ignored me and when I walked by Dawn she never looked. The attacks hadn’t attacked and the red dots seemed to have left me alone. I could read without falling asleep.
It was almost good.
On a boiling day, I went to see George since I hadn’t talked to him in a week. His door was ajar.
“You want to go to the Kaf?” I asked though the crack and he put down his book.
“No, I ate, but I think Tim hasn’t gone yet. See ya,” he said.
I left and got a drink. The water fountain tasted metallic like blood.
Tim’s door was open and knocked. I stood firm in the doorway.
“I am going to check my mail and stop off to get some eats. Do you want to come?” I asked.
He had a toothbrush in his mouth and nodded. He waved his finger for me to wait as he left and went to the bathroom. I sat down and looked upon the garbage that appeared to reproduce asexually in his abode.
As we passed Collin’s field, infested with joyous faces playing Frisbee, sunbathing or tossing a baseball, I felt the cold urge to ask Tim about his situation.
“So, are you and Erin doing better or are you two bifurcated for good?”
“Bifurcated, that’s a good word. And no, we’re not together anymore if that’s what you mean. I tried to stop her but she’s crystalline shattered. She’s going straight to Rascal. What the fuck’s up with the hermit act?” he asked.
“I needed to focus and straighten out. I went out last Thursday,” I said.
“Everyone goes out on Thursdays but you tea toddled,” Tim said.
“I wanted to keep away from things, you know Elyssa. But whatever, are you going out tonight?” I asked.
“Yes and you are too. It’s Thursday and tonight we splurge,” he said.
I agreed.
We get to the Foote Campus Center and head down the tile corridors by the campus restaurant named the Hillside down into the deep rows of mailboxes trimmed with brass sunk in the walls. The scent of freshly baked bread drifted by on the thin air.
My box overflowed; offers for credit cards and catalogues spilled to the tile. Tim went around the corner to his box. A letter simply addressed to Joaquin-Box 311 on top caught my attention. On the top left corner was written From Erin. I folded it and jammed it in my pocket. A letter with my mother’s stationary then slipped out of the stack. Tore the top and fifty bucks in a folded piece of paper went into my wallet. There was a blue slip indicating I had mail being held by the postal worker at his desk in the front. The trashcan ate the junk mail and I went to obtain my correspondence.
I waited for the clerk as he filed through white crates of envelopes at the back. He finally came over to the window and took my slip. He went to a cabinet and pulled out two letters. The clerk examined the letters as he came back through the thin halogen light.
“Well, I guess you don’t check your mail every day. These have been here a week and a half,” he said.
“Thank you,” I said while nodding with shut eyes.
Over by the trash can, I ripped them open. They were from the school: one was from the Dean of Students. The second was from my advisor.
I saw him once.
The first letter acknowledged the completion of my community service work but was really a warning in disguise. The second letter’s first sentence read-You are in danger of failing and being placed on academic probation for the next semester.
I didn’t read the rest, crumpled it up and dropped it on the ground.
“Ready to go eat? I’m starving,” Tim asked as he tossed his mail in the trash can.
“Sure,” I said and followed him down the corridor.
We filled out trays at the buffet, the scent of freshly chopped onions of the salad bar floated across the room, and Tim was eating before his butt hit his seat at a long table. I nibbled and the small bites felt like lead. As I sipped lemonade from my left side, Tim looked at me with a smile.
“Why you smiling?” I asked.
He gave me a quizzical look and said, “Can’t a guy just smile? Not with you I suppose, but I got a letter. Can’t tell you anymore, yet.”
“Okay,” I said.
Tim scanned the dining hall and excused himself. He walked to a circular table under the street side windows. Erin, Elyssa sat with a gaggle of girls I didn’t know. Erin waved for him to sit. He sat down, hands waved in the air and the girls laughed. After watching the lines at the buffet for ten minutes, I saw him come back with a booming smile. Tim sat with a thump and slapped both his hands down on the table’s edge.
“Everything is all good. Erin and I are friends again,” he said.
“Well, keep it in your pants,” I said.
“You’re right about that,” he replied.
“What were you talking about over at Erin’s table?” I asked and wiped my the corners of my mouth with a napkin.
“She was just saying how we should get together and discuss things. I asked her how classes were going and she asked the same. You know,” he said.
“Cool, you two should talk about you know what,” I said.
He nodded.
We finished and left together but Tim made a turn to go to the parking lot at the bottom of the stairs.
“Where are you going?” I asked before descending.
“I’m going on an errand. I’ll be back later. About an hour,” Tim said as he waved and trotted off behind a bush and out of sight.
I directed myself toward the dorm and walked at a snail’s pace. People passed by and the clouds blocked the sun’s embrace.
I could not fail.