What They Left Behind
Gennie had never felt so overwhelmed in her life. There was so much to do. She had to buy her books, get a parking permit for her car and a student ID, along with finding all her classes. She had definitely come a long way from Alaska, when she thought her high school of seven hundred students was huge.
She spotted Page on the way to one of the student cafes. She didn’t know if she was still mad at her, but Gennie waved to get her attention. Page’s face immediately brightened up.
“Hey, stranger!” she yelled, “What are you doing here?”
“Getting something to eat,” Gennie said. “How about you?”
Page approached her. “No, I don’t mean that! You told me you weren’t going to college.”
“Well, Malcolm and Colleen forced me to take the SAT’s and I guess I did really good on them. The guidance counselor said I was in the top ten percent of the scores. I didn’t think I would get into any colleges but I applied to Berkeley on a whim and I got in.”
“Good choice!” Page patted her on the back. “What are you majoring in?”
“Engineering Mathematics and Statistics.”
“Good luck with that. Guess you probably won’t have trouble finding a new boyfriend.”
“Probably not,” Gennie replied. So far, the two engineering classes she attended were entirely male. “What are you majoring in?”
“Social Welfare,” Page said.
“How do you like it so far?”
“It doesn’t sound that hot, but so far my classes have been great. Hey, I’m starving, so why don’t we talk some more in the café?”
They continued their conversation after they ordered their lunches and sat down. Page seemed to be taking campus life in stride. She was chatting excitedly about her classes. Psychology, Statistics and Political Science sounded easier than High Mix/Low Volume Manufacturing and Thermodynamics. They compared schedules and found they were going to be in the same classes for many for their prerequisites. They had a composition class together and a social studies course, called Contemporary Global Issues for Women.
“It must be hard being a room with a hundred nerdy guys,” Page said, before she took a bite out of her turkey club sandwich.
“It feels weird, but it isn’t too bad,” Gennie said. “I met all the professors at orientation and they seem nice, except for the one who teaches Calculus.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“Well, he’s about ninety years old. He’s probably been teaching since the turn of the century. When he called attendance this morning, he stopped at my name and said ‘Someone here is taking the wrong class.’”
“Okay?” Page said, sounding disgusted. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“That’s what I thought too. I guess I have to live with it. I try to comfort myself with the thought that he’ll probably drop dead soon.”
Page snickered. “Hopefully before mid-term.”
“That would be nice.”
“Any activities you want to get involved in?”
“No, not particularly. Do you have any in mind?”
“I was thinking of joining the Vietnam Day Committee.”
“Hey, if you want to, go ahead.”
“I see you’re not too thrilled with that idea.”
“I don’t know…I’m not into protesting and all that stuff.”
“Well, from what I read about it, they said they don’t do a lot of protesting. They mostly do letter writing, sit-ins and marches. I think it would be fun.”
“Sounds like fun,” Gennie said sarcastically.
“Don’t you want to make a difference in life? I can’t believe you’re siding with The Man.”
“I’m not siding with anybody. And what am I going to make a difference with?”
“Well, let me put it to you this way. Is your brother signed up for the draft?”
“Yeah, he got a postcard from the government saying sign up or die. He dropped it off at the post office and a couple of weeks later they sent him another postcard saying he was on the draft list. Luckily, his number hasn’t come up in the lottery yet.”
“Let me tell you something. If they pick his number, he’ll be the first to go.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that if this war doesn’t stop soon, your brother is going to Vietnam. I don’t think his skills as a gourmet cook are going to help him survive in the jungle.”
“So, I suppose I have a personal stake in this now?”
“I say you do.”
“Okay, I’ll join, but you have to make a deal with me.”
“Sure, what is it?”
“I have to pick something and you have to join it no matter what it is.”
Page handed her the booklet from the Student Life Office. “Go ahead. Pick one.”
Gennie browsed through the booklet. “This one sounds interesting.”
Page leaned over to get a look. “You’re in the academic section.”
“Yep, you’re right.”
“Well, I hope it isn’t boring.”
“No, it sounds pretty exciting. It’s called Formula One SAE.”
“Okay, what is that?”
Gennie read aloud from the booklet. “To apply knowledge by working with the engineering aspects of designing and constructing an F1 car.”
“What’s an F1 car?”
Gennie sighed. “You’re so deprived. It’s a Formula One car.”
Page still looked confused.
“A race car,” Gennie added.
Page frowned. “You know, I was afraid of that. Can we do something else besides work on cars?”
“Nope, but we can join another group that has nothing to do with the Vietnam War or cars.”
“Like what?”
“How about the Dart Club?”
“Why the heck would I want to join the Dart Club?”
“For one, you learn everything there is to know about darts and two, it meets in the campus pub. Dart Club members get their first two drinks free.”
One of Page’s goals in life was to get wasted, so this piqued her interest. “Really? Well, count me in!”
“I was afraid of that,” Gennie said.
The first dart club meeting was that night at the pub. There were five dartboards, thirty tables and over two hundred students.
A very handsome young man with shoulder length dark hair stood up on a chair, microphone in hand.
“Hey, students of Berkeley!” he said.
The crowd cheered.
“I’m Rory Fox. I’ve been President of the Dart Club for the past three years and tonight it seems we have a problem here. Two years ago, we had only eight students in our club when it was held in the rec room. So, we moved the dartboards to the campus pub. That helped a little, but still we had only twelve members and we were hoping for more. Well…you know how the saying goes…’Be careful what you wish for because it might come true.’ We decided this year to create an incentive to increase attendance and it definitely worked…a little too well.”
Everyone chuckled. Rory cleared his throat and continued. “So to separate the true dart enthusiasts from the ‘get drunk for free’ crowd, we’re going to hold a little contest. We’re all going to have our two free beers. Then, all of you are going to be handed a slip of paper. On the paper is the dartboard you’re assigned to. You’re going to line up at the dartboard and you’ll have three chances to throw the darts. If you score within the two smallest circles, welcome to the club. Everybody got that?”
Everyone nodded in agreement and made a beeline to the bar. Gennie was almost done with her second beer when Rory pressed a slip of paper into her hand.
“What does it say?” Page asked.
“Number five.” Gennie searched the room for the dartboard with a five on top of it. It was on the far right hand side of the room, next to the pinball machines.
Page opened up her slip of paper. “Number
two.”
“Figures.”
“Yeah, I know. I get the dartboard named after a piece of crap.”
Both girls giggled.
Rory grabbed his microphone again. “Okay, guys. If you’re ready, line up at your respective dartboards.”
Gennie and Page were among the first to line up. Gennie threw her darts. Two hit the inner circle. The third was a bull’s eye.
“You’re in,” the monitor for the number five dartboard, a tall, muscular guy with shiny brown hair said. “What’s your name?”
“Gennie Perrin.”
He wrote her name down on a lined piece of paper. “Congratulations and welcome to the club.”
Gennie reunited with Page at the bar.
“How’d you do?” she asked Page.
“No bull’s eyes, but they all were in the inner circle.”
“Great! So we’re both in.”
“I think I’m going to enjoy myself here,” Page said, scanning the room. “There are a lot of cute guys, and not a whole lot of other girls.”
“How about Rory?” Gennie pointed out. “What do you think of him?”
“He’s got the perfect last name. A total fox.”
“Are you going to ask him out?”
“Hell no! I don’t think he’d go out with me if I asked straight out.”
“You never know,” Gennie said.
“Maybe I’ll go flirt with one of his friends, in order to get to know him a little better. I think my monitor, Freddy, would be a good choice.”
Page pointed Freddy out. He was good looking, with a clear olive complexion and chiseled features, but he didn’t dress very well. He also had thick glasses and limp looking hair combed to one side.
“I don’t think you should hurt him like that.”
“I’m not hurting anybody,” Page said. “A dork like that should be lucky someone is interested in him!”
A girl next to Page eyed her suspiciously. “Well, you’re no catch either, honey.”
“What did you say?” Page shouted. She stood up from her barstool.
“You know what I said,” the girl replied. “And I bet all of the guys are saying the same thing about you.”
Page put her face right into the other girls. “I’m not as bad as he is.”
“No,” the girl said quietly, her black eyes turning hard, “you’re even worse.”
“That’s it!” Page shouted. She rolled up the sleeves of her blouse. “You’re going down!”
Gennie grabbed Page by the shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“What do you think I’m doing? I’m about to beat Bad Ass Betty up!”
The girl snorted. “You got my name right, but you’re not going to beat me up.”
“Page!” Gennie yelled, “You’re going to get kicked off campus! Let’s get out of here right now!”
“Goodbye, Page,” Betty said, mocking her. She lifted up her drink in a toast.
“You stupid bitch!” Page yelled before Gennie covered her mouth and dragged her out of the pub.
“What’s going on, Bet?” Freddy asked Betty.
“You need to get a new girlfriend!” Page screamed just outside the entrance. “The one you have is a c--“
Gennie yanked her arm and pulled her away from the pub. “We’re going back to your room. You’ve had too much to drink. We don’t need to make enemies here. We’ve had enough of them in high school.”
Chapter 32: September 7