Chapter Eight - The Middle of the End
Hanging above the rear booths in McKinley's are a bunch of posters made by previous Allegheny students. The one from the 1993-'94 school year is "The Differences Between Ravine and Hell." A few of them have become outdated, but most still ring true. Case in point:
It doesn't rain in Hell.
The rain pattered down around Chandler and I as we made the hike back to my room.
"Chandler," I said. "You're from Pennsylvania, right?"
"Pittsburgh." he said.
I walked for a few more seconds before asking, "It does stop raining eventually, right?"
Chandler snickered. "Yeah; when it snows."
It had been warm for November in the Midwest. However, the difference was between death by hanging and death by lethal injection. Sure, it wasn't as bad as it could be, but forty degrees and torrential rain isn't high on anyone's list of "good weather."
I unlocked the door to Ravine and we went inside. We cut through the D lounge on the way to my room. Thom was there, writing in a notebook.
"Hey, big guy, what's up? Homework?" I asked.
"Nah, it's my story." said Thom.
"You write, too, eh? The name's Chandler, by the way." put in Chandler.
"Hi, I'm Thom. With an 'h.' Are you a writer?"
"I write some. What's your story about?"
"The life of a young god and the world he rules. How about yours?"
"It's about a writer in the mid-eighties in New York City whose life parallels the life of Jesus Christ."
Thom was speechless after hearing Chandler's premise. It was the usual response. I've read parts of the manuscript, and I thought it was well done. Chandler had just introduced Aaron Stone, a forty-something Indie-rock singer who was going to mirror Peter. I was pretty sure it'd make him famous if he ever managed to finish it.
"So, why are you out here in the lounge?" I asked Thom.
"Eh, all this election shit is getting old." Thom was born in Canada and moved to Pennsylvania when he was four. As such, he wasn't a U.S. citizen and couldn't vote. He was one of the few people on campus who genuinely didn't give a shit about politics.
"That's actually just where we're headed." I said. "I'll bet you at least six people are already in my room."
"You're a popular guy." said Thom.
"They ain't there for him." said Chandler. He does that sometimes; his English is superb, but he goes into voices from time to time, one being the uneducated slacker.
"Thanks, Chandler. You're really boosting my confidence, here. But seriously, we'll see you later, Thom. You're welcome to stop by, if you'd like."
"Same here. We can watch a movie or something, if you get sick of the whole election thing." said Thom as we left.
"Nice guy. When'd you meet him?" Chandler asked as we mounted the stairs.
"Orientation." I said.
"Hey, that reminds me." said Chandler, stopping. I turned and faced him. "When am I going to get to meet this Katalin you keep talking about?"
"Well, if you'd gone with us on Halloween, you would've met her already."
"Sorry, sorry, sorry. I regretted going to the Delt' Halloween Party, happy? Now, seriously, when am I going to meet her?"
I sighed. "We'll probably do something this Friday. I'll meet up with you at dinner, how's that sound?"
Chandler curled out his lower lip. "Sounds good."
We finished the short flight of stairs to first floor E Tower. William's insipid laughter greeted us.
"That'll be him." I said.
"Doesn't sound so grumpy to me." said Chandler.
"Apparently he decided it would be impolitic to be moping around at this juncture." I muttered.
Chandler gave me a puzzled look. "Hey, English Major, you're talking to a Biochem kid, remember?"
"He decided it would look better if he was happy right now. Drama queen."
We came around the corner. As predicted, six people were already in the room: William in the office chair he'd brought from home (dubbed "the captain's chair"), Ashley, Morgan, and Jerry on the much-maligned futon, Amanda on William's bed, and Norman from next door sitting cross-legged on the floor. I'd go into their personalities, but they don't matter much for what was brewing.
"Hey, dude." said Jerry, friendliest of the group, also a Republican. "Our dude's winning."
"Only by three." put in Amanda, the bleeding heart I'd mentioned at McKinley's.
"Yeah, great. Everybody, this is Chandler. He's in my FS. Chandler, this is Amanda, Jerry, Morgan, Ashley, Norman, and William, my roommate."
There were murmurs of welcome. I sat down at my chair before realizing there was nowhere for Chandler to sit. "Um, there was another chair that came with the room. It's in the bathroom across the hall--"
"Nah, I'm good." said Chandler. He scooted in along the edge of the futon, putting him between Ashley and the end. He was about three feet from William's chair.
"So, as I was saying, Kerry is the only logical choice because--" William was interrupted in his pontificating as Chandler nonchalantly stretched his legs out, using William's armrest as a footstool. "Um, could you not do that?"
Chandler had already launched into a conversation with Ashley.
"Excuse me." said William, visibly pissed. "Could you move your feet."
"Sorry, what?" asked Chandler.
"Your feet. Could you move them?" I could tell that every ounce of courtesy was faked.
"Yeah, sure. Didn't think you'd mind." he lowered his feet.
Chandler seemed to be hitting it off with everyone other than William, who seemed less than thrilled at Chandler's presence.
Around one AM, it dawned on me that it was a Tuesday, meaning I had class in eight hours.
"Hey, I don't want to be an ass, but it's getting late and I have class tomorrow..."
"Say no more." said Jerry. The others murmured in agreement and shuffled out, until only William, Chandler, and I were left.
"Well, I'll see you later." said Chandler, shaking my hand. "Good luck, you conservative bastard."
"Yeah, yeah, I'll see you. Take care, you liberal scum."
With that, Chandler headed back for his room in Walker Annex. I shut the door behind him.
"Who was that guy?" William demanded once it was shut.
"My best friend, actually." I said, unpacking my shower stuff.
William scoffed. "Maybe you should reconsider your friendships, because he was an ass."
"Maybe I should reconsider my living arrangements." I muttered under my breath as I went out the door.
Originally posted on December 21st, 2004
It doesn't rain in Hell.
The rain pattered down around Chandler and I as we made the hike back to my room.
"Chandler," I said. "You're from Pennsylvania, right?"
"Pittsburgh." he said.
I walked for a few more seconds before asking, "It does stop raining eventually, right?"
Chandler snickered. "Yeah; when it snows."
It had been warm for November in the Midwest. However, the difference was between death by hanging and death by lethal injection. Sure, it wasn't as bad as it could be, but forty degrees and torrential rain isn't high on anyone's list of "good weather."
I unlocked the door to Ravine and we went inside. We cut through the D lounge on the way to my room. Thom was there, writing in a notebook.
"Hey, big guy, what's up? Homework?" I asked.
"Nah, it's my story." said Thom.
"You write, too, eh? The name's Chandler, by the way." put in Chandler.
"Hi, I'm Thom. With an 'h.' Are you a writer?"
"I write some. What's your story about?"
"The life of a young god and the world he rules. How about yours?"
"It's about a writer in the mid-eighties in New York City whose life parallels the life of Jesus Christ."
Thom was speechless after hearing Chandler's premise. It was the usual response. I've read parts of the manuscript, and I thought it was well done. Chandler had just introduced Aaron Stone, a forty-something Indie-rock singer who was going to mirror Peter. I was pretty sure it'd make him famous if he ever managed to finish it.
"So, why are you out here in the lounge?" I asked Thom.
"Eh, all this election shit is getting old." Thom was born in Canada and moved to Pennsylvania when he was four. As such, he wasn't a U.S. citizen and couldn't vote. He was one of the few people on campus who genuinely didn't give a shit about politics.
"That's actually just where we're headed." I said. "I'll bet you at least six people are already in my room."
"You're a popular guy." said Thom.
"They ain't there for him." said Chandler. He does that sometimes; his English is superb, but he goes into voices from time to time, one being the uneducated slacker.
"Thanks, Chandler. You're really boosting my confidence, here. But seriously, we'll see you later, Thom. You're welcome to stop by, if you'd like."
"Same here. We can watch a movie or something, if you get sick of the whole election thing." said Thom as we left.
"Nice guy. When'd you meet him?" Chandler asked as we mounted the stairs.
"Orientation." I said.
"Hey, that reminds me." said Chandler, stopping. I turned and faced him. "When am I going to get to meet this Katalin you keep talking about?"
"Well, if you'd gone with us on Halloween, you would've met her already."
"Sorry, sorry, sorry. I regretted going to the Delt' Halloween Party, happy? Now, seriously, when am I going to meet her?"
I sighed. "We'll probably do something this Friday. I'll meet up with you at dinner, how's that sound?"
Chandler curled out his lower lip. "Sounds good."
We finished the short flight of stairs to first floor E Tower. William's insipid laughter greeted us.
"That'll be him." I said.
"Doesn't sound so grumpy to me." said Chandler.
"Apparently he decided it would be impolitic to be moping around at this juncture." I muttered.
Chandler gave me a puzzled look. "Hey, English Major, you're talking to a Biochem kid, remember?"
"He decided it would look better if he was happy right now. Drama queen."
We came around the corner. As predicted, six people were already in the room: William in the office chair he'd brought from home (dubbed "the captain's chair"), Ashley, Morgan, and Jerry on the much-maligned futon, Amanda on William's bed, and Norman from next door sitting cross-legged on the floor. I'd go into their personalities, but they don't matter much for what was brewing.
"Hey, dude." said Jerry, friendliest of the group, also a Republican. "Our dude's winning."
"Only by three." put in Amanda, the bleeding heart I'd mentioned at McKinley's.
"Yeah, great. Everybody, this is Chandler. He's in my FS. Chandler, this is Amanda, Jerry, Morgan, Ashley, Norman, and William, my roommate."
There were murmurs of welcome. I sat down at my chair before realizing there was nowhere for Chandler to sit. "Um, there was another chair that came with the room. It's in the bathroom across the hall--"
"Nah, I'm good." said Chandler. He scooted in along the edge of the futon, putting him between Ashley and the end. He was about three feet from William's chair.
"So, as I was saying, Kerry is the only logical choice because--" William was interrupted in his pontificating as Chandler nonchalantly stretched his legs out, using William's armrest as a footstool. "Um, could you not do that?"
Chandler had already launched into a conversation with Ashley.
"Excuse me." said William, visibly pissed. "Could you move your feet."
"Sorry, what?" asked Chandler.
"Your feet. Could you move them?" I could tell that every ounce of courtesy was faked.
"Yeah, sure. Didn't think you'd mind." he lowered his feet.
Chandler seemed to be hitting it off with everyone other than William, who seemed less than thrilled at Chandler's presence.
Around one AM, it dawned on me that it was a Tuesday, meaning I had class in eight hours.
"Hey, I don't want to be an ass, but it's getting late and I have class tomorrow..."
"Say no more." said Jerry. The others murmured in agreement and shuffled out, until only William, Chandler, and I were left.
"Well, I'll see you later." said Chandler, shaking my hand. "Good luck, you conservative bastard."
"Yeah, yeah, I'll see you. Take care, you liberal scum."
With that, Chandler headed back for his room in Walker Annex. I shut the door behind him.
"Who was that guy?" William demanded once it was shut.
"My best friend, actually." I said, unpacking my shower stuff.
William scoffed. "Maybe you should reconsider your friendships, because he was an ass."
"Maybe I should reconsider my living arrangements." I muttered under my breath as I went out the door.
Originally posted on December 21st, 2004
posted by Andrew Michael at 9:55 PM
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