Date: Mon, 7 Jun 2010 06:29:49 EDT
From: BertMcK@aol.com
Subject: Dancing on the Tundra 8

DANCING ON THE TUNDRA
by Bert McKenzie
Copyright 2010

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to any real
person alive or dead is coincidental and unintentional.

CHAPTER VIII

     Terry walked into the lobby and looked around for Paula, but
he didn't see her.  There was an older couple visiting with their
son, a boy sitting in the corner reading a magazine and a couple
of girls on one of the couches, but no Paula.  Terry walked to
the counter of the main desk to ask if the attendant on duty
noticed where his guest had gone.  The guy gave him a strange
look, then stood up and pointed.  Terry turned to look back at
the lounge area but saw no one different.  He was about to ask
again when the boy in the corner looked up from his reading.

     "Terry," Paula said as she dropped the magazine and stood
up.  "About time.  What took you so long?"

     Terry walked over to her.  "I guess I sort of overslept," he
admitted as he ran his hand through his still damp hair.  He
stared in wonder at his friend.  She was dressed in sneakers,
blue jeans and a red flannel shirt under a blue, down-filled
jacket.  Her black hair had been cropped very short and she wore
no make up.  All of this had cast the decidedly masculine
appearance.  But as she stepped toward him, her movements
conveyed a sense of masculinity as well.  There was something in
the way she walked, in her carriage, even in the subtleties of
arm movements and tilts of the head.  It was more than just a
decisive, take charge attitude; it was a lack of any softness,
any feminine tones to temper the overall appearance.  Paula could
easily have been taken for a guy.

     The two friends left the dorm and strolled down the
sidewalk.  "You . . . you seem so different," Terry said after a
moment of silence between them.

     "You like it?" she asked, generally indicating herself.
"It's the new me."

     "I don't know what to say."

     "Well I do," she quickly responded.  "For the first time in
my life I'm really happy.  I've joined a kind of sorority and we
have a lot of fun.  I really like my new image and so do my
sisters."  She finished with an angry look of defiance that
conjured up the image of glass breaking into jagged shards.

     "Well that's just great," Terry said, trying to sound
enthusiastic.  "I'm happy for you."

     "What about you?" she asked.  "So how's life treating you?"
In her concern for her friend she seemed to soften a bit, the
broken glass fading into the background.  The old Paula came
through.

     "Me?  I'm okay," Terry lied.

     "What's up?  Come on, you can tell me."

     He stopped walking and stared into the parking lot.  "Oh my
God," he said in shock.

     "Terry, what is it?"

     "Gary's car," the boy responded.  A short distance across
the lot sat Gary's old grey Chevy.  All four tires were flat with
flayed strips of rubber hanging from them.  The windows were
shattered and broken glass was scattered everywhere.  The car had
several dents beat into its body and someone had sprayed 'Die
Faggot' on the side in red paint.

     "Gary, is that the roommate you wrote me about?" Paula
asked.  "I thought you said he moved out of the dorm.

     "He did," Terry said as he slowly walked toward the car.
"He only came back last night because he gave me a ride home from
the cast party."

     "I thought this Gary was a queer.  What were you two doing
together at a party?"

     "It's not what you think," Terry said, his anger suddenly
building.  "We weren't together.  He just happened to be there
and when I got sick he gave me a ride home.  He's a very nice
guy."

     "Well somebody sure didn't think so."

     "Can we go to the hospital?" Terry asked, suddenly changing
the subject.

     "The hospital?  What for?"

     "Because I just found out a couple of minutes ago that after
he dropped me off last night he got in a fight with the guys down
the hall.  They put Gary in the hospital."

     Paula led the way to where she had parked her sporty, blue
Camaro that her parents bought her as a high school graduation
present.  They jumped in and in a short time were at St.
Margaret's Hospital.  At the desk they were informed that
visiting hours didn't begin until one, still a few minutes away.
But when asked about Gary the nurse on duty said he had requested
no visitors.  "He's fine," she told them.  "He should be
discharged later today or tomorrow morning, but he doesn't want
to see anyone and we have to respect his wishes."

     "Could you tell him I came by?" Terry asked as he quickly
jotted a note on a piece of paper he found in his pocket.

     "Of course," the lady said with a professional smile and
took the scrap of paper.  The two of them left and climbed back
in Paula's car to return to campus.  Curtain time for the matinee
was 2:00 so Terry suggested they go directly to the theatre.  He
still needed to give Betsy her keys.

                            *   *   *

     As they sat in the lobby waiting for the house to open,
Terry had a chance to chat with Paula.  He told her about his
experience with Gary, and then what he found out at the party.
He also told her about the incident with the priest and the
tickets the night before.  She seemed to think he was making way
too big of a deal out of the whole affair.  "So he forgot what
night his reservation was for and he was in a bad mood.  What's
the problem?"  Terry had to agree, although he could still feel
the sting of the humiliation.

     "I missed Mass today," he finally said.

     "What?"

     "I got drunk last night and overslept.  I missed Mass this
morning."

     Paula gave him a strange look.  "So why are you telling me?
I'm not a priest.  I don't need to hear your confession."

     Terry felt instantly foolish.  "I guess I just wanted to say
something."

     They sat quietly for a few minutes.  "You know Father Joseph
would say it's a sin.  Do you think you're going to hell for over
sleeping?" Paula asked.

     "Maybe," Terry answered her.

     "Terry, be realistic.  If there is a God do you think he'd
damn you for all eternity because you got drunk and missed Mass?"

     "I guess that does sound kind of severe."

     "Yeah, it does," Paula chided him.

     "Wait a minute.  If there's a God?  Don't you think there
is?"  Terry realized the heresy his friend had spoken.

     "Do you think there is?"

     "Well sure . . . I guess."

     "Well I don't," she said with conviction.  "Look at your
friend in the hospital.  Would a God let him get beat up after
helping you out when you got sick at a party?  And look at
yourself," she said suddenly getting personal.

     "What about me?" Terry asked uncomfortably.  He had no idea
where she was taking this line of thought.

     "Would a God let what happened to you at the prom happen
just because . . ."

     "Because why?"

     "Because of what you did with Jim."

     "That was all a bunch of lies!" Terry said a bit too loudly.
Several other people in the lobby glanced over at them.

     "Now do you see why I don't believe in God?"

     Terry thought about it for a bit.  "So you don't go to
church anymore?"

     "No, I haven't been to church since I left home," Paula
admitted.  "And it's great.  No guilt, no confession, and no
going to hell."

     The house opened and the two of them stepped up to the usher
with their tickets.  Once inside the theatre their conversations
tended to turn to the more mundane items.  Terry told Paula about
Frances and the letter, and then confessed that several of his
dorm friends thought Paula was his new girlfriend.  "Imagine
that," she laughed.  "You and me dating?  That's a wild one."

     Terry forced a laugh.  "Yeah, silly, isn't it?"  He chuckled
along with her, but inside he felt strangely empty.  He wondered
why it was such an outlandish notion.  They had know each other
for years.  Actually it seemed perfectly natural when he thought
about it.

     From there the conversation dwindled until finally the
lights dimmed and the play began.  They were instantly
transported to Spain during the Inquisition.  The characters were
introduced and the play within a play took place bringing to life
Don Quixote, Sancho Panza, Aldonza and all the rest.  The
production was outstanding and the singing and dancing superb.
Terry found it hard to believe that many of these same people
were at the party just the night before, drinking and smoking
grass.  The effects of the night's revels didn't seem to hurt
their performances.

     Halfway through the show the girl who played Aldonza had a
slight mishap.  Her costume consisted of a full peasant skirt and
a tight, laced, leather corset.  The corset gave her a perfect
figure as well as lifting her ample bosoms.  As she was dancing
with the muleteers she apparently moved a bit too much for the
costume and her left breast popped out of the tight bodice in
full view of the audience.  But the girl never missed a note of
the song.  She just reached up and tucked herself back into her
dress and kept going.

     When the curtain finally dropped the audience rose to its
feet for a standing ovation.  "That was fantastic!" Paula said
enthusiastically.  "That girl who played Aldonza was brilliant!"

     "Yeah," Terry agreed.  She was very good, but he was still
embarrassed for her considering her unplanned exposure in the
middle of the show.  "Wasn't that awful when she fell out of her
costume?"

     "Awful?" Paula asked.  "I thought that was the best part."

     "The best part?" he repeated in astonishment.

     "Well sure, I mean the way she didn't let it bother her.
She just fixed the problem and went on, like it happens every
day."

     "I guess so," Terry replied.

     The two of them went out for hamburgers and then Paula
dropped him back at the dorm.  She had to get back to her
university to study for a test the next day.  She waved to him,
then pulled away from the curb and peeled out down the street in
a squeal of tortured rubber.

     "Hey, Terry.  Was that your new girlfriend?"  He turned to
see Todd standing behind him on the sidewalk.

     "Yeah, as a matter of fact, it was," Terry replied proudly.

     "So what's his name?"  Todd burst into laughter at the
question.

     "Her name is Paula," came the angry reply.

     Todd followed Terry into the dorm and over to the elevator.
"She looked like a guy to me.  Is that why you didn't kiss her
goodbye?  Did she forget to shave this morning?"

     "Oh shut up," Terry said as he stepped into the empty
elevator.

     "Isn't your old buddy Gary gonna be upset?" Todd asked,
jumping onto the elevator just as the doors closed.  "We put him
in the hospital and before your bunk even gets cold from his
visit last night, you go out and get some other guy to take his
place."

     Terry doubled up his fist and swung, hitting Todd as hard as
he could right in the mouth.  The boy was totally unprepared for
Terry's attack, never even dreaming that the mild mannered butt
of his jokes might actually strike back.  Todd fell back,
cracking his head on the wall of the elevator, then collapsed to
the floor.  The doors opened and Terry stepped out onto his
floor, leaving the unconscious boy behind him.  He went straight
to his room and closed the door, then sat on the bed.  He was so
upset he was trembling.  His hand hurt and was beginning to
swell, but he hardly noticed it in his agitated state.  It was a
whole combination of things that bothered him, the conversations
with Paula, the incident with Gary the night before, his going to
the hospital, and finally the teasing by the boy across the hall
that had provoked such violence.  Terry had never really been a
violent person, always avoiding a fight.  He just didn't know how
to deal with all the conflicting emotions.

     He lay back on the bed and closed his eyes, waiting for his
name to be called on the intercom.  He was certain that in a very
short time he would be called before Mother Barry when Todd
reported the attack.  He might even be expelled.  How would his
parents react to that?  Terry closed his eyes and tried to sleep,
trying to shut the real world out of his conscious mind.

     A light tap on the door called him back to the present.  He
wasn't sure if he had drifted off or not, but for a moment he was
still disoriented as if he had been asleep.  The knock repeated.
"Come in," he called as he sat up.  He was sure it must be Mother
Barry.  He was surprised that she would come to him.  The door
opened and a form was silhouetted in the light from the hallway.
Only then did Terry realize that his room was hidden in darkness.
He reached over and snapped on the desk lamp.  Brent stepped into
the room.  "I was expecting someone else," Terry admitted.

     "Who?" Brent asked as he stood inside the doorway.

     "Maybe the R.A. or Mother Barry."

     "If it's because of Todd, don't worry," Brent said.  "He
told us what he said.  I think he deserved a good punch in the
mouth."

     "I've never hit anyone before," Terry admitted, his voice
shaking.

     Brent shut the door and then pulled up a desk chair.
"What's going on with you, Terry?" he asked.  "This afternoon you
sounded like you were mad when you heard about Gary.  They caught
him sneaking out of your room, then he attacked Stewart."

     Terry took a deep breath, then began to tell Brent
everything.  He told Brent about Stewart and Gary, and about
Stewart coming on to him.  He told Brent about getting sick at
the party and Gary bringing him home and putting him in bed.

     "Terry, he might have raped you," Brent said, trying to
justify the violence against Gary.

     "Don't be stupid," Terry snapped back.

     Brent sat back and rubbed his eyes.  "What am I going to do
about Stewart?" he asked rhetorically.  "I don't want to sleep in
the same room as a faggot."

     "Why not?  Has he ever done anything to you?"

     "Well no," Brent admitted.  "But there's always a first.
Besides, if he was screwing with Gary why did he spread rumors
and get Gary kicked out of the dorm?"

     "I don't know.  Maybe he was tired of Gary and interested in
someone else."

     "And I know who," Brent added in a sudden realization.
"You."

     "Me?"

     "Remember I told you how he said you had a good looking
body.  And he's been kind of coming on to you.  And he's asked me
a lot of questions about you."  Terry tried to suppress an
involuntary shudder.  "So what are you going to do about it?"
Brent asked.

     "Nothing," Terry answered him, looking suddenly at his
friend.

     "You aren't going to talk to Mother Barry or anything?"

     "I don't think that would do any good.  She doesn't care."

     "Well, I'm not sleeping in a room with a faggot," Brent
repeated strongly.  "Can I move down here with you?"

     "Brent, after the situation with Gary and now Todd trying to
start rumors, I think the last thing I need is a guy moving in
with me.  Then they'd say you and I were both faggots."

     "Yeah, I guess so."  The heavy set boy thought for a moment.
"Well, I could tell everyone about Stewart and then he'll have to
move out, the same as Gary."

     "No, that wouldn't be right," Terry argued.  "I think the
best thing is just to ignore the whole situation."

     "But then I'm back to rooming with Stewart."

     "He hasn't bothered you up to now.  I don't think you have
to worry.  Besides, I'm sure he doesn't want anyone to know about
him."

     "Well, at least after tonight you don't have to worry about
anybody calling you names.  A faggot wouldn't hit someone in the
mouth the way you took care of Todd," Brent smiled.

     "Why not?" Terry asked.

     "Why not what?"

     "Why wouldn't a faggot hit someone?"

     Brent rolled his eyes.  "Terry, faggots don't fight.
They're afraid of getting hurt.  They're all kind of like big
sissies."

     Terry thought about Gary and his attack on Stewart.  It just
didn't fit with what Brent said.

                            *   *   *

     During the following week everything seemed to return to
normal.  Gary was discharged from the hospital, but Terry was
unable to find out where he went.  He seemed to have totally
disappeared.  It was only some time later that Terry found out
his former roommate had dropped completely out of school.  After
several days a tow truck came to drag off the vandalized Chevy,
and so Gary passed completely out of his life.

     Todd gave Terry a wide berth, going out of his way to avoid
any accidental meeting in the corridor or bathroom.  Stewart
seemed to be following the same avoidance policy as well.  When
Terry first saw him a couple of days later, the two black eyes
Stewart had were already beginning to fade, but they still gave
him a comical appearance, kind of like an overgrown raccoon.

     Terry made an appointment to see Dr. Baker, head of the
theatre department, as the man had requested him to do at the
show last weekend.  When he was escorted into the tiny office,
the man rose and shook his hand.  He then chatted briefly about
theatre in general and their college department in particular.
While he spoke in his deep, resonant bass, Terry was able to
glance surreptitiously around the room.  Three of the four walls
were covered floor to ceiling with book shelves.  Most of the
shelves were filled with texts on every aspect of theatre from
acting to scene design.  Terry noticed that several of the book
spines listed "Baker" as the author.  He wondered if this was the
same man as now sat in front of him and visited so freely with a
lowly freshman.

     "So what are your plans in theatre?" the man asked,
startling Terry out of his speculations.

     "I'd like to be a performer."

     The man nodded, his face smiling sympathetically.  "I don't
mean to discourage you, but so would about two hundred others in
this university.  And with a great deal of luck and hard work,
perhaps one or two of you will actually make it.  But we're
pleased to have you with us and we'll try to give you a good,
strong background.  The rest is up to you."

     Terry thanked the man for his kindness and then left the
office.  Far from discouraged, he was elated.  Why couldn't he be
the one out of two hundred who might actually make it.  He would
certainly work hard.  The only thing he needed was the luck.

     As he was leaving the theatre building Terry ran into Mary
Margaret.  She was a small, thin woman with short grey hair, a
typical old maid spinster.  She was also the cousin of Father
Schmidt and ran the Catholic student center.  She had an errand
on campus and just happened to be going the same direction as
Terry.  Mary Margaret was evidently the woman who had accompanied
the priest to Saturday night's production.  She recognized Terry
from the box office as well as having seen him on Sunday
mornings, and had to tell him how much she had enjoyed the show.
She thought it was a marvelous production and had a wonderful
time.  She never mentioned any problem with the seats or tickets,
much to Terry's relief.

     As they were about to part company the woman asked Terry if
he would be available Sunday morning to carry in the bread or
wine at the offertory.  At this particular time in the ceremony a
couple of members from the congregation would process down the
aisle to offer the bread and wine on the altar.  Terry
reluctantly agreed.  He was still self conscious about the recent
happenings with Father Schmidt, as well as feeling guilty about
missing Mass last Sunday.  He wasn't sure that he wanted such a
visible role in the ceremony, even if it was simple enough.  Yet
he couldn't very well tell this nice lady that he didn't want to
take part in what to her was a very important event.  And she did
say she needed help on Sunday.  How could he refuse?

     The week passed quickly, and Terry and Brent were soon on
their way to Sunday Mass in the lecture hall.  Barney, a business
major from the floor below was going with them.  He had been
attending mass on Saturday night at the church off campus, but
decided to join them.  Brent and Barney had a couple of classes
together and were becoming good friends.

     The lecture hall was unlike a real Catholic church in that
there was no place to kneel.  So during the part of the service
when people usually knelt, they stood.  So too, there was no
tabernacle like a regular church, and consequently no reason to
genuflect when entering the rows of seats.  Still old habits were
hard to break, and several people continued to drop to one knee
before slipping into their row.  Terry, Brent and Barney walked
down the aisle and slipped into a row, then sat down.  Barney saw
a girl a couple of rows in front of them genuflect and realized
that he hadn't.  He turned to tell Brent, but his voice came out
louder than he intended, and he got confused on the wording.  "I
forgot to ejaculate before I sat down," he said.  Heads all over
the hall turned to stare and Terry and Brent slowly sank in their
seats trying to stifle the laughter.  Meanwhile Barney looked on
innocently, not aware of what he had said.

     Father Schmidt entered, dressed in his brightly colored
robes and walked to the front where a makeshift altar had been
set up.  He greeted his congregation and the service began.  Just
before the offertory Terry stood and slipped out of their row so
that he could walk to the back of the hall where the bread and
wine waited.  As he stepped into the little foyer of the lecture
hall, he saw two of the officers of the Catholic student
organization, a boy and a girl, fussing around the table holding
the bread and wine.  "What do you want?" the boy asked as he
noticed Terry standing nearby.

     "I came to help," he explained to the boy.

     "We can manage," the girl said as she picked up the chalice.

     "Mary Margaret asked me to help," Terry said, feeling
strangely conspicuous and out of place.

     "We don't need your help," the boy said firmly and picked up
the basket with the bread in it, then turned, a pious look
descending over his face, and walked into the hall.

     "Well, I guess if you don't need me, I don't need you,"
Terry said quietly as he watched the two walk slowly down the
aisle toward where Father Schmidt stood smiling.  Terry turned
and stepped out of the building and into the bright, warm
sunlight of late November.  He felt strangely as if a great
weight were being lifted from his heart.  He knew that if Paula
was right, the ceremony was so much silliness, and if Paula was
wrong, then God didn't need him to carry a cup of wine or a loaf
of bread to prove his worth in the world.  Terry took a deep
breath and began to walk across campus, heading for the park on
the other side.