Freement by William James Johnson Chapter 14

My superintendent wished me luck when I turned in my resignation at the car factory. He encouraged me to get a good education, and return to industry after I got my degree. Fortunately I had good reports on my work record, and he added his recommendation that I be rehired during the ho1idays.
Ma Rooney's was buzzing as her boarders returned for another season. Seven students in all, lived in the huge house they called "Rooney's Roost". We all ate breakfast in the comfortable dining room off the kitchen. Mrs.Rooney lived for her boys. Widowed when her professor husband died 12 years ago, she had converted this huge home into a rooming house for students to supplement her meagre pension. It was rumoured her husband drank himself to death because he couldn't stand his childless, long suffering wife.
I had acquired a 49 Chev before the end of summer. On registration day I was going to leave the car and walk to University. Rick didn't agree.
"You what?"
"I'm still going to walk. There'll be plenty of time for women later. I don't need a car to impress them."
"That's telling him Marty," said Stu.
"Well I'm sure as hell not gonna walk. As long as my old man's picking up the tab, I'm gonna get whatever I can." He gunned his MG, coating the road in front of Rooney's house with a dull strip of rubber.
"He's weird. No wonder he's gotta repeat his year. He doesn't care if he ever graduates."
"Give him time Stu. He's still got to grow up."
Walking the few blocks to the campus that balmy September morning was a wonderful way to begin my new life. Maples along Richmond Hill were golden and scarlet. Young men and women from all directions approached the University archway. The grey stone pillars at the entrance to the campus were engraved with the
words "Chathurst University, Founded in 1921".
A wide three lane drive beginning at the arch, curved gracefully to the right, across a narrow bridge that spanned a small tributary. The road disappeared behind hedges that surrounded the administration building, with its majestic bell tower. Beyond this gothic structure was the gymnasium, set up for registration. Long lines of students stretched across basketball courts under signs categorizing the major courses. The longest line by far formed up under the heading of Arts. I inquired about where to enroll for an Honours Philosophy course.
"You'll have to select five compulsory subjects first."
"I don't get it. Can't I take what I want?"
"Not if you expect to get a degree."
"What compulsory subjects do I need?"
"According to the honours curricula, you'll need two Maths, two languages, a science, preferably with a lab, or economics. Then you can select philosophy subjects under 110x for first year students."
I had no idea there would be so much work. I went looking for Stu. He was progressing well in the second year Arts' line up.
"Through already?"
"Haven't even started. What's all this business about compulsory subjects. I'm not interested in Latin and French."
"University policy. The compulsory subjects are supposed to help an Art's student get a liberal education."
"But I want to study philosophy."
"Well you will. But you've got to take those other subjects too. Can't get around it Marty."
I didn't finish registering until almost noon. Rick and Stu met me, and we went to the cafeteria. Grabbing a serving tray, I took a bowl of soup, ham sandwich, and a glass of milk. The place was packed.
"Tonight's your chance to make the social scene," said Rick.
"What do you mean?"
"Enrollment dance. Your chance to check out all the new birds and meet some of the staff."
"I think I'll pass."
"Don't be stupid. It's really fun."
"I don't have a date. Besides, you don't want an old crock like me hanging around."
"Hey listen to the guy. Feeling sorry for himself already. I'll ask Terry to get you a blind date. She knows a lot of gals at Valleyside Hall. She lived there during summer school."
After lunch I trudged back to the book store and loaded up on materials and texts needed for my course. My arms wrapped around my possessions like a mother hugging an overstuffed child. I headed for home. I was wishing now I had taken my car. By the time I got back to my boarding house I was whipped. I dropped the books on my desk and collapsed on the bed. Soon I was fast asleep, reliving the day's events.
"Marty...wake up. We've got a big night ahead. Terry got you fixed up with a nice little chick from Valleyside. You might even remember her. Claire Gordon. Remember this summer at the Cosmo?"
"Can't say that I do."
"She's your blind date for the enrollment dance. Christ it's ten to eight. You'd better get a move on. You're supposed to pick her up at nine. See you at the dance."
A glowing harvest moon hung like a giant sunkist orange behind the trees lining the campus roadway. The lights of the admin building shone through the orangy darkness as the staff finished the registration. Couples walking hand in hand across the bridge toward the gymnasium reminded me of the dances at Brewster High.
Sheltered by a steep grassy slope that disappeared into the darkness, Valleyside Hall blended into the landscape. I parked my Chevy and walked up the stone steps to the front door. A plain looking girl, overdressed in a pink organdy approached me.
"Are you John Martindale?"
"Yes I am."
"Claire asked me to tell you she'll be down in a few minutes. "
I heard her footsteps coming along the terrazzo hall. Claire Gordon was lovely. Her black hair neatly arranged in a page boy, bobbed up and down as she walked. Her deep green dress harmonized wonderfully with her soft dark eyes. An even tan radiated with a healthy glow.
"Hi Marty. Remember me?"
"Only vaguely. But I'm sure I don't know why."
"Well it's not fair really. I was sitting in the dark most of the time listening to you at the Cosmo. You probably didn't get a very good look at me that night."
"That's for sure. I don't think I would've forgotten you."
"Thanks for taking me to the dance. When Terry told me it was you. I really got excited. I was hoping I'd see you again."
As we drove to the gymnasium. Claire stayed on her side of the car. She seemed friendly enough, but there was obviously something bothering her. I decided not to pry until I got to know her better.
The level of noise in the hall made it difficult to enjoy the music. Old friends shook hands and exchanged pats on the back. Claire was remote as we danced and I was getting a little embarrassed as Ma Rooney's boys taunted me with okay signs behind her back.
"Is something wrong Claire?"
"Please...I'd rather not."
During intermission, we walked outside into the cool fall air. Walking in silence along one of the many pathways on the campus, I felt a lump forming in my throat. It was one of those horrible obstructions that grow with frustration. I wanted to say something, or do something to break down this wall that separated us.
We were standing in one of the dark archways of Bigger Stadium, when suddenly Claire flung her arms around me and kissed me. It was such a furious kiss, she hurt my lip when she pressed it against my teeth. Then just as suddenly. she pushed away from me and turned towards the wall and began sobbing.
"I'm sorry Marty. I just had to do it."
"For what'? Making me bite my lip."
"Oh Marty...I didn't mean to hurt you."
"It's nothing...I was only kidding."
"You must think I'm stupid."
"I don1t know what to think."
"I acted like a child. I am eighteen you know."
"Eighteen, and you're lovely."
"Oh what am I going to do?"
"About what?"
"About you. I'm in love with you. Really in love with you."
"But we've only met once before."
"I know all about you. I've asked those kids who have been with you at the Cosmo. and they all think you're terrific. They say you're free and natural and good. That night I listened to you made a tremendous difference in my life."
"In what way?"
"You were talking about Original Sin. What you were saying about how society conditions us was so true. I had never even thought about it until you pointed it out to us. You see Marty. I'm a scrupe."
"A what?"
"A scrupe...It's a word the nuns used when talking about an over scrupulous person. All my life I've been fighting against my conscience. and when I give in, I can hardly stand the guilt."
"Why don't you stop fighting."
"I wish I could. But you know what the guys are like here. There's no saying how far I would fall if I just let myself go."
"You've got to realize you're not the Claire Gordon who grew up at nome. You've got to put away the old Claire and take on the new. When you feel the need to do something, do it. It's perfectly natural, as you mature, your life will change. Get rid of the baggage that was imposed on you when you were a child. You're the one who is calling the shots now."
"If only I could."
"You can if you try. Your kissing me tonight satisfied an impulse, but the crying afterwards is destructive. Get rid of regrets in your life."
"But that's dangerous."
"Not if you allow yourself to change gradually. Eventually you'll see, you'll be judging your acts on the basis of need satisfaction, not moral rightness."
"You make so much sense. I feel a tremendous need right now for you to kiss me."
Her mouth felt warm as it invited me in. She clung to me as though she would never give me up. We walked slowly back to the dance, my arm around her waist, her lovely head on my shoulder.
The first week at the University was disappointing. I had expected the students to be responsible adults and instead I found many of them were brash high school graduates who covered up their fear of this new challenge with open rowdiness. The activity I found most annoying came with the hazing of the freshmen by the sophomores. It led to my first scrape with the system.
Along with the silliness of wearing beanies and unmatched clothing, paint smeared newcomers were ordered to assume the angle, which meant bending over and allowing some smart ass to take a hungry wack at your bottom with whatever was handy. It was near the end of the first week of this nonsense that I came upon a gang of thugs who had pounced on a young guy who had forgotten to wear his beany. I heard his screams coming from the parking lot beside the cafeteria. In the centre of the mob, lying on the ground, his hands tied to his ankles, he tried to defend himself.
"Roll the sonofabitch over so I can get a smash at his arse."
The overweight bully in a yellow and white university cardigan held the headless steel shaft of a golf club. He swung his shining club in vicious sweeps across the victim's buttocks, to the loud approval of his clique.
"Look at the stupid bastard twitch. You ever see anything so funny?"
I couldn't stand it any longer. Snatching the end of the club from behind him, I yanked it out of his beefy hands, and as fast as I could, swung it desperately across the fat fingers that reached for it. The bully screamed as a narrow welt suddenly appeared.
"Get him. Get that sonofabitch and I'll fix him."
Two of his buddies moved on me. I managed to smash one with my left fist and got the other with the steel shaft across the shoulders. I was shaking so much from excitement, I could hardly speak.
"You want more? Okay. Come and get it. Come on."
Another tried to grab the shaft and got a stinging blow across the shoulder for his brave effort.
"Where the hell did he come from?"
"Who is he?"
"I'm a freshman, that's who. And I'm not going to let you goddamn animals push me around like the others. Look at this kid. You're lucky you didn't cripple him."
"You guys gonna let a freshy tell us what to do?" said the fat leader, trying to motivate his gang.
"You fatso. Get this kid untied if you know what's good for you."
The mob spread out as I approached the bully. Two of Ma Rooney's boys had heard the noise and joined in with me. One of them bent down to untie the limbs of the boy who had been beaten.
"Hold on. This fat slob's going to do that for us. Aren't you fatso?" I passed the shaft to one of the other guys and approached the lump of yellow and white lard.
"Okay bully. No more club. Let's see if you fight as well as you talk."
He swung his right at my head missing, but catching me on the shoulder. Dazed momentarily, I thrust my fist upwards into his face, followed by my knee in his fat belly. The blow made him drop his guard long enough for me to pound him twice on the flabby cheeks. As I got closer, he flung his arms around me and knocked me off balance against a car. My foot found his groin this time. As it sunk into the softness under his gut, he dropped his arms moaning.
"For Chrissake. Help me."
I got his tie behind him. and began twisting it.
"And now fat boy, untie the kid or I'll kill you."
"Stop...Stop. I can't breathe."
"Untie him I said."
A rabbit punch forced him into the gravel. I still hung onto the ends of his tie. His flabby cheeks changed from bright red to sickly purple as he struggled to untie the ropes. A cheer went up as I kicked him into the dirt beside his victim.
"There's an initiation you won't soon forget. You new guys are as much to blame as they are. You let them push you around. Push back hard enough and this bullshit will stop."
The kid on the ground struggled to his feet. "What can I say?"
"Forget it. Someone had to do it."
"I'm Vince Crowley. Thanks again. I really mean it."
One of Ma Rooney's boys still holding the golf club said, "Man that took guts."
"It's all so ridiculous. Where are the men around this place to put a stop to this crap?"
By the time of my last class, word had spread all over the campus. Apparently I had taken on Chuck Earnshaw, a notorious campus beast.
"Hey Marty...Wait up."
"Hi Rick."
"Jeez. I'm sorry I missed it. I hear you really cleaned Earnshaw's clock."
"I'm kinda sorry now I did."
"Why? Jeezuz he's been needing that for a long time."
"Violence begets violence. You think he's going to take this lying down?"
"That's why I had to see you. The freshies want to form a resistance movement. and they want you to be their leader."
"The what?"
"The FARM... The Freshman Resistance movement. The gang that's gonna kick the shit out'a Earnshaw's guys."
We went to the cafeteria where several of the freshmen were meeting. Loud cheers went up as we entered. I knew I had to nip this in the bud or my university days were going to be short lived .
"Listen everyone. What happened at noon couldn't be helped. It wasn't the time for talking. But now is. We outnumber the sophomores two to one. We don ‘t have to go looking for fights. If we do, we're no better than they are."
"How we gonna stop them then?"
"By refusing to be a part of their childish nonsense."
"If we don't fight back, they will keep hounding us."
"Look! I'm not saying we're going to let them get away with anything. If they try to force you, use force back. Some of you were there when they beat Vince. Why didn't you stop them? You did nothing because you were scared. Help each other. Stop this craziness before someone really gets hurt. But don't be stupid enough to go looking for trouble. It's not worth it."
When I finished. a loud roar of approval went up. Students pushed forward to grab my hand as a gesture they agreed with what I said. Beanies 'and freshies name cards were heaped in the garbage containers. I felt proud that with words, I had defused what could have been a campus riot. Maybe someday I would be a leader.
Maybe Mac Burney was right about me.
The next two months were hectic, but the sheer weight of freshman numbers kept things under control. My group of followers continually increased. The Cosmo was doing a roaring business. A couple of nights a week the freshmen practically took over the place.
Ever since the enrollment dance, Claire and I had been going steady. She was a wonderful girl, but like Lizbet, she had her problems. She wasn't as fanatical about religion, but she was having difficulty being herself. It was this very thing which was brought to my attention one night at the Cosmo when Stu confronted me during a lull in the conversation.
"How you making' out with your little Wop dollie?"
"My what?"
"Gronci. Her old man's a first generation dago. Clara Gronci. Don't tell me you didn't know?"
"Claire Gordon?"
"Yeah. little Claire. You mean she never told you?"
I changed the conversation. Why would she do this to me? When I picked her up we went down to Riverside Park and I sat quietly in the car, not sure how I should start this.
"Something wrong Johnny?"
"Yes... There is something wrong Clara."
"Clara?"
"Yes. You are Clara Gronci aren't you?"
"Yes but..."
"One of the guys told me...1 don't understand Claire. What is it you are you trying to hide?"
"Stop goading me. I've admitted it haven't I."
"Clara...please darling."
"Don't call me that. I hate it. I hate everything about it."
"I'm sorry. Believe me, I didn't want to hurt you."
She began crying when I apologized and slid closer to me, putting her arms around my neck.
"I'm ashamed that's why."
"Ashamed...of what?"
"My parents...my race. I'm Italian and I'm ashamed of it."
She pulled up her coat sleeves and showed me her arms.
"Did you think my arms were this colour because I've got a good tan."
"Don't talk that way."
"My folks came to this country twenty-five years ago, and still can't speak the language. They live right here in Chathurst. Did you know that? Dad has been in the car factory for over twenty years. He's been on the same machine for over twenty
years, and he's proud of it."
"Why aren't you living at home then?"
"Because I hate taking my friends home, don't you see. I don't want them to meet my ignorant family."
"This is lousy Claire. I really pity you."
"Damn it. I don't want your pity. I want your understanding."
"At least you've got a home to go to. You've got parents who have sacrificed so you can go to university and now you reject them."
"It would be different if they would try. But they don't. They are nothing but bullheaded foreigners and I'm their daughter."
"It's not they who are to blame."
"What do you mean?"
"They're not pretending to be somebody else."
"If the girls in my dorm knew I was Italian, they'd kick me out."
"I don't think so. You worry more about what might happen, than the people around you. What are you afraid of? Rejection... I don't reject you."
"Oh Johnny. I don't know what to do."
"Look. While we are in a confessing mood. let me tell you something about myself. You're going to think this is pretty stupid, but once I pretended to be something else. Can you believe it. I tried to make people believe I was a saint. It's true. I was living a lie, because I wanted desperately to win the love of my parents. It almost drove me mad trying to keep my two lives straight. Finally the real me, and my false personality, vanished. It took a long time Claire, but I got rid of my hypocrisy. Now I am what you see. At last I'm free to do as I please."
"Free. In what way?"
"Free to react naturally in all situations without letting what other people might think dissuade me. Free to choose any course of action without being plagued by my conscience."
"But it's so hard to live like that."
"At first it almost seems impossible. Go back to being Clara Gronci. Get rid of those ridiculous feelings of inferiority. Believe in yourself Clara. I'll be here to help you."
"It's too late Johnny."
"It's never too late if you'll try. As long as you continue this hypocrisy, you are hurting yourself, not those around you."
"But what will they say?"
"To hell with what they'll say. As long as you let yourself worry about what others might say about your race, or your conduct, or yourself, you're letting them trap you. The penalty for giving in to this pressure is loss of the real you."
"And you? Will you help me be Clara Gronci?"
"Of course. I love you Clara."

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