I was mobbed by my classmates out in the parking lot. I peeled off my robe and just leaned against the side of the building near the doorway. Ray found me and handed me a flask, and I think I chugged a couple ounces of something potent before I handed it back, coughing. He just grinned at me. “That was amazing!” he said with a big grin.
I didn’t understand. “I don’t get it.” I had just dumped a Cleveland Steamer on my fellow Baby Boomers, and everybody was cheering for me? This made no sense whatsoever.
It got crazier. All my friends, and even some kids I barely knew, came up to me and shook my hand. Finally I grabbed Ricky Santorin, one of the guys in the college prep group like me, and asked him. “Ricky, what’s going on? Everybody says they loved my speech, but I don’t understand why! I just dumped on everyone!”
“No, you didn’t,” said Mrs. Rogers, coming towards me. “You challenged them. You challenged them to be better than they were, and they responded. Right now every parent in that room is wondering if any of you will live up to that challenge.”
Ricky laughed. “My parents are wondering about paying to send me away for four years. Their challenge will be getting me to graduate!” I had to join in the laughter at that.
Mrs. Rogers smiled. “Then here’s a fourth challenge, Mr. Buckman. You come back to your high school reunion in five years and show us what you’ve done to meet your challenge. Your classmates will be waiting on you!”
Ricky laughed at that and pushed me back against the wall. We fumble-farted around for a bit, and then Jeana came bounding up, followed by my family. My parents had brought Suzie with them; Hamilton had declared a sudden stomach ache and nobody wanted him there anyway. Ricky took off and I hugged Jeana and then Mom. Dad I simply shook hands with. Mrs. Rogers said, “I was just commenting to your son how impressed I was with his speech. I can’t recall every hearing one quite like that.”
For once even my mother looked at me proudly, although Dad looked at me with pride and a certain degree of skepticism. “Me either,” he replied. “Since when did you know I was born in a house without water or electricity?”
“Since every summer when we go to the family reunion and you tell us all about it!” I winked at Suzie and she joined me in reciting, “Walking barefoot to school, through the snow, thirteen miles, uphill, each way!” Every summer the story got longer and more dire, until all three of us kids began reciting it before Dad could get around to it. Dad had lived on a farm out in Arcadia until shortly before the war, at which time they moved into the working-class Pimlico section of Baltimore. “I told Aunt Peg about it one time and she told me the truth.”
Mom laughed at him, and Dad just smiled and said, “Your Aunt Peg lies.”
“I’ll tell her you said that.”
At that point it became surreal. The Principal came up to me, dragging the speaker, the county politician who had talked before me, and a third man, a young fellow who announced he was with the Baltimore Sun. Everyone congratulated me on my brilliant speech, and the county representative suggested I had a fine career ahead of me in politics.
It must have been a very slow news day for somebody to be reporting on a high school graduation. It was actually kind of strange. The reporter already had a copy of my speech that he had gotten from the Principal. I had no idea it was copied and available. “That was an amazing speech, Carl. Are you planning on going into politics?”
I stared at him for a second. “God, no! I would like to think I have more self respect than that!”
Several people laughed at that, although my parents and the politician were mortified. “You don’t think much of politicians?” asked the reporter.
I thought about it for a second. “Politicians are a lot like puppies. They’re cute and warm and loving and like to lick your face, but as soon as you put them down, they like to go to the corner of the room and pee on the carpet. The difference is that with a puppy, you can yell at them and rub their noses in it and hit them with a rolled up newspaper, and sooner or later they learn not to pee on the carpet. Politicians never learn. No matter how much you yell or how much you rub their noses in it or how hard you hit them, they always end up peeing on the carpet.”
The reporter grinned at this, and the Principal and the politician ran away like I had just puked on their shoes. Dad just shook his head and rolled his eyes, and Mrs. Rogers smiled
“Are you visiting anytime soon?” asked Mom, which caused Mrs. Rogers to look at me funny. I had kept my apartment secret from everybody at school but Jeana.
“I wasn’t planning on it. I was thinking I’d take Jeana out.” I turned to her. She was in a very pretty little sundress, nice and light and airy, perfect for a June day. “Did you want to go out to lunch? How did you get over here?”
“Your parents picked me up. I’ll go with you,” she answered.
“We can go out to eat, if you’d prefer,” Mom said.
I was tempted to say no, but decided to make nice. “I’ll find you in the parking lot in a few minutes. I’ll follow you.”
My parents and Suzie left, and I found myself with Jeana and Mrs. Rogers. “Carl, I know this isn’t my business, but you only visit your home?”
I shrugged, and then took a deep breath. Mrs. Rogers was a good person and a good teacher. She had taken a chance on me. “I moved out two years ago. I have an apartment in Towson.”
Mrs. Rogers’ eyes snapped wide open at that. “Two years!” She looked over at Jeana, who had an arm through mine. “Oh, my!”
“I’m pretty independent, Mrs. Rogers.” I gave a quickie explanation of the problems with my brother, without getting too detailed. “It was just simpler for all of us.”
“Well, I just don’t know what to say. I’ll be very interested in what you have to say for yourself at the reunion in five years.”
I grinned at that. “With your shield or on it, Mrs. Rogers,” I replied, quoting the orders given to Spartan hoplites before going off to war. Either come home carrying your shield, victorious, or come home being carried on your shield as a makeshift stretcher. No other choices were allowed. Conquer or die.
“Precisely.”
Jeana and I moved off to the parking lot and I followed them to a restaurant in Cockeysville. After that, I drove Jeana back to my apartment, for a little personal time. It was still only mid-afternoon, so I went over to my liquor cabinet and pulled out a pair of wine bottles. “White or red?” I asked her.
She smiled. “Let’s go for the red today.”
I nodded and put back a bottle of chardonnay. I glanced at the bottle of red. “How about a nice little cabernet?” I grabbed a couple of wine glasses and the corkscrew, and peeled the foil off the wine bottle. I pulled the cork and poured some in our glasses and handed hers to Jeana. “Here’s to graduation. Thank God that’s over!”
Jeana laughed. I took the bottle and my glass and led the way back into the living room area, and set them down on an end table. I sat in the armchair and smiled at her, and she sat down sideways on my lap, being careful not to spill her wine. I picked up my wine and sipped it. “Have I told you today just how beautiful you are?”