"Well... it got weird."
"What got weird?"
"Everything. Gail taught sociology, and I taught Marx, Engels, and other dead white European males who are now dead for sure. I sat there in my ivory tower, you know, and I couldn't see what was going on in the real world. The collapse of communism sort of caught me by surprise."
"Me, too. And I got paid to avoid surprises."
"Did you? You some kind of spy?"
"Go on. Your heroes had feet of clay. Then what?" He smiled. "Yeah, so I didn't know if I should rewrite my lectures or rethink my life."
"I hear you."
"Anyway, my classes were not well attended, and whereas I was once in the vanguard of social thought, I found myself bringing up the rear. Christ, I couldn't even get laid anymore. I mean, maybe I'm getting too old for the undergraduate women, but... it's more a head thing than physical. You know? Also, they've got these rules now, whole pages of rules on sexual conduct... Jesus Christ, they tell you you've got to get a verbal go each step of the way — Can I unbutton your blouse? Can I undo your bra? Can I feel your breast?" He laughed. "No joke. Can you imagine that when we were undergrads? Christ, we just got high and fucked. Well, you didn't, but... anyway, Gail got a little behind the times, too. Her potential students all signed up for Feminist Studies, Afro-American History, Amerindian Philosophy, New Age Capitalism, and stuff like that. No one takes straight sociology anymore. She felt... sort of establishment. Jesus Christ, has the country changed, or what?"
"Antioch might not be representative of the country, Jeffrey."
"I guess not. But, jeez, there's nothing as pathetic as an old revolutionary who doesn't get it anymore. The revolution always eats its own. I knew that thirty years ago. I just didn't expect to be on the take-out menu so soon."
"They sack you?"
"No. They don't do that. Gail and I just woke up one morning and made a decision. We quit on principle. Stupid."
"No. Smart. Good. I can't say the same for myself. I wish I would have done what you did. But I got axed."
"Why? Cutbacks?"
"Yup. The price of victory is unemployment. Ironic."
"Yeah, well, but you won. Now I can't look forward to a socialist paradise on earth." He finished his beer and crushed the can. "Politics suck. They divide people."
"I told you that." Keith sat silent for a while and thought about what Jeffrey had said. He and his childhood friend had lived different lives and believed in different things, and apparently had nothing in common by their senior year in college. In reality, they had more in common than they knew.
They'd been little boys together, they'd played in the same schoolyard, and left for the same college the same day. Each considered himself an honest man and perhaps an idealist, and each probably believed he was doing the best he could for humanity. They'd served in different armies while others stood aside. But, in the end, they'd each been misled, used, and abused by different systems. Yet here they were old Spencerville boys, sharing too many beers on the front porch. Keith said to Jeffrey, "We've both been left in the scrap heap of history my friend. We're useless relics who both lost the war."
Jeffrey nodded. "Yeah. Can we get the next thirty years right?"
"Probably not. But were not going to make the same mistakes."
"No but the past clings to us, Keith. Word got out that Gail and I are Reds, which isn't really true, but it hasn't helped the tutoring business. I mean, what are we supposed to do? Join a church? Go to Fourth of July picnics dressed in red, white, and blue? Register as Republicans?"
"God forbid."
"Right. We're still radicals. Can't help it."
"No and you love it. That's why you're here. Your act was yesterday's news in Antioch. Here, you're weird and dangerous."
Jeffrey slapped his knee. "Right! This place is in a time warp. I love it." He looked at Keith. "And you? Do you know why you're here?"
"I think so."
"Why?"
"Well I'm burned-out cynic. I don't think they even understand cynicism here, so I'm here to get well again."
"Yeah. Cynicism is humor in ill-health. H. G. Wells. I hope you get better."
"Me, too."
"Maybe I can get cured of my idealism. You know what an idealist is? That's a man who notices that a rose smells better than a cabbage, so he thinks the rose will make a better soup. That's my problem. That's why I'm broke, out of work, and a social outcast. But I'm not cynical. There's hope."
"God bless you. Can I say that to an atheist?"
"Anytime. You join a church yet?"
"No."
"You should."
"Is that you, Jeffrey?"
"Yeah I saw the power of religion in Poland, in Russia... I don't agree with any of it, but I've seen what it can do for troubled minds. You need a dose."
"Maybe."
Jeffrey stood unsteadily. "Hey, I've got to go, buddy. Dinner's on. Come over tomorrow and have dinner with us. Gail wants to see you. We're still vegetarians, but you can bring your own pig or something. We have wine and beer. We do drink."
"I see that." Keith stood, also unsteadily. "What time?"
"Who cares? Six, seven. Also, I've got a stash." Jeffrey moved to the steps and steadied himself on the porch column. He said, "Hey, you want to bring a friend? Lady type?"
"No."
"What're you doing for sex? Don't choke the chicken. This town's full of divorced women. They'd love a piece of you."
"Can you drive?"
"Sure. It's a straight run. We're renting a farmhouse and a few acres for organic vegetables. Two miles up the road. The old Bauer place."
"Let me drive you."
"No... if I get stopped, I can put the fix in through Gail. If you get stopped, they'll nail your ass."
"Why do you say that?"
Jeffrey moved back toward Keith and put his arm on Keith's shoulder. He said softly, "That's what I came to tell you... even if we didn't get along, I was going to tell you. Gail has a source close to the police... actually in police headquarters, but forget that. And the word is that Baxter is after your ass, and I guess we both know why. You be damned careful, buddy."
"Thanks."
Jeffrey hesitated, then said, "I don't know if you and she have been in contact, but I have this feeling that you two... what am I trying to say? I could never picture you two separate... whenever I see Annie, I think of Keith, and when I saw you here, I thought of Annie, like you should have come to the door together like you always did in Bowling Green... Christ, I'm babbling." He turned and walked down the porch steps and through the rain without his umbrella, got into the car, and left.
Keith watched the taillights disappear on the dark, rainy road.
Chapter Ten
The following morning dawned clear, and Keith wanted to work around the farm, but everything was wet from the rain, so he put on clean jeans and a new short-sleeve shirt and went into town to take care of some business.
He was tempted to drive past the Baxter house, but the police may have discovered his new car by now. In any case, there was no reason to see if she was back or not; in her own time, she'd drive out to her Aunt Louise and stop by to see him.
He drove into the center of town and found a parking place near the state liquor store. He went inside and looked over the selection of wines, which ran toward domestic brands whose labels didn't ring a bell. He recalled that Jeffrey and Gail, like everyone else they knew at Bowling Green, drank cheap, sweet wine that today they'd deny ever having heard of. Nevertheless, as a joke, Keith found a bottle of apple wine and a bottle of something called grape wine, which was actually grape juice and alcohol, manufactured locally. He also found a decent bottle of real Italian Chianti, which would also bring back memories.