On Sunday morning, everyone again converged on St. Boniface Catholic Church. This morning the substitute organist, Miss Quincy, was again at the console. While her selections and her playing did not excite Jason the way the candidate’s did last week, it was acceptable, with no assaults on the ears in evidence. Unfortunately, this was a Deacon O’Malley Sunday as far as preaching was concerned. While there was nothing objectionable in what he said, he was so overwhelmingly boring that everyone was either dozing off or squirming well before he finished.
As they were leaving the church after Mass, a little girl of perhaps five or six approached Nate. She stood right in front of him, so he could not fail to see her.
“Hi, who are you?” Nate greeted her.
Rather than answer, she pointed to his hair. “Is that real?” she asked.
Nate knelt down so he was more on her level. “Well, the hair is real, but I had to add the blue color myself,” he admitted.
“You mean like Mommy does?” the girl made the connection.
“Well, I don’t know your mommy, so I don’t know what she does with her hair, but a lot of people color their hair. I just decided to use a color different from most people,” Nate explained.
About that time, the girl’s mother appeared. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized. “Sherry, you should not be bothering the man.”
“It’s okay,” Nate said. “Sherry has been very polite.”
“He says the hair is real, but he colors it,” Sherry reported.
“Again, I’m sorry,” the mother apologized, clearly embarrassed. “She’s been talking about your hair for weeks.”
“I’m glad I have such a loyal fan,” Nate said.
“You’re sure it’s real?” the skeptical fan asked again.
“Yep, I’m sure. Here, do you want to feel?” Nate offered.
The girl reached up and ran her fingers through his hair. Then she grabbed a handful and tugged. “Is it! It’s real!” she exclaimed.
“Sherry, stop that this instant. You shouldn’t pull the man’s hair,” the girl’s mother cried, grabbing her daughter and pulling her back. “I am so sorry. She’s just so curious about everything,” she said to Nate.
“No harm done,” Nate said. “I’m Nate Hagan, by the way. What’s your name?” he asked the girl.
“Sherry Jankowski,” the girl answered.
“Oh, that’s a hard name to spell. Can you spell it?” Nate asked.
The girl looked uncertain. “Sometimes,” she said.
“You’ll get better. I bet by Christmas you’ll be able to spell it with no trouble at all,” Nate encouraged her.
“Thank you. We need to get home,” the mother said.
“Well, I’ll probably see you some other Sunday, Sherry,” Nate said, and waved good-bye to the girl.
Isobel Sandoval said to Nate, “That was very good of you.”
Nate grinned. “I wouldn’t want to squelch such promising curiosity.”
At the Olive Garden, everyone joked that Nate had a girlfriend now. “He even made a date with her for next Sunday. I heard him,” Terry laughed.
Nate grinned. He liked children.
******
Over Sunday dinner, the others were made aware of a development in the Sandoval family. It seems that, when Kathy Collins informed her parents of her plans to marry Kyle on the day after her eighteenth birthday, they reacted violently. She was not physically attacked, but she was told to leave the Collins home immediately. The gist of her father’s comment was that if she wanted to marry a half-breed, and even have a pervert as best man, she could do it without decent working people (meaning himself and those like him) taking part. That was Thursday evening. A weeping Kathy called Kyle, who got several friends together, including Mike and David, and they moved all Kathy’s belongings to the Sandoval home.
“And just where do you sleep in that den of iniquity?” Bryce teased the girl.
“I’ve been assigned the guest room,” Kathy primly replied. Then she giggled. “After all, Kyle shares a room with Mike. I could hardly be in there.”
“And where does Kyle sleep?” Jason asked with a smirk.
“None of your business,” Kyle replied, to laughter from others.
“We’re only anticipating matters by a few months,” Kathy defended herself and her fiancé, “it’s not like I’m sleeping around.”
Kyle leaned over and kissed her. “Don’t let these clowns upset you. All they know how to do is make jokes.”
“And what is your role in all this?” Bryce asked Isobel.
She made a face, and adopted the accent of Sergeant Schultz from the old show, Hogan’s Heroes. “I know nothing, nothing.”
Everyone laughed again.
“And are we to expect a sibling for Peter Charles any time soon?” Nate asked, as he tickled the baby.
“It takes at least nine months, though I would not expect individuals of your persuasion to know that,” Kyle answered.
Kathy bopped him. “Not for a while,” she said. “Eventually, we will want more kids, but we need to get better established first.”
“Changing the subject some, I was interested to meet Señor Pedro Sandoval at the baptism. I’m not sure I ever met him before, even though I’ve know the rest of you for some time,” Bryce commented.
“Papa works a lot,” Mike replied. “He goes to an early Mass on Sundays, then gets to the restaurant before anyone else to make certain everything is in order.”
“He practically lives there,” Isobel added. “Whenever the restaurant is open, Pedro is there.”
“And this is the person my parents call a welfare cheat,” Kathy said with disgust. “They think every Hispanic is illegal and all of them are living off the white population. I have never known my father work half as hard as Mr. Sandoval.”
“Once people make up their minds about something they relate to in an emotional manner, there is no talking to them, and evidence means nothing,” Bryce concluded.
They moved on to other, more pleasant topics, including the wonders of Peter Charles. He, of course, accepted the adulation of everyone as only his due.
******
After dinner, everyone separated. Nate claimed he had a paper he absolutely had to work on, as it was due the next day. Bryce decided he had spent so much time on the First Rhode Island Regiment yesterday that he needed to do some work on Jean Racine this afternoon. Damon needed to see his pledge, John Luke, for at least a few minutes. And so it went. They separated into their own projects, but would get together again at the soup kitchen.
Bryce spent the time at the University library. A minute or two after three he packed up his gear and walked outside. He put in his regular Sunday call to his mother as he began the walk back to the apartment.
After answering, Martha moaned, “Oh, Bryce, I am so sorry to hear that you and Damon are splitting up. I do like that boy.”
“What are you talking about? Damon and I are not splitting up,” Bryce insisted.
“But he said you were,” she insisted.
“What? When?” Bryce asked.
“He called me only a few minutes ago, and said you were split. Then something happened, and he hung up quickly. I thought he was angry with me for some reason,” Bryce’s mother explained.
“Mom, I’m sure there’s been a misunderstanding. Damon and I are not splitting up. All I can think of is that we decided to each go our own ways until it’s time to head out to the soup kitchen, as we both have work to do,” Bryce insisted.
“You’re sure? You’re not just letting me down easy?” she persisted.
“Mom, I’m absolutely sure. I’ve been in the University library for over an hour, and right now I’m walking back to the apartment, but the last time I saw Damon, less than two hours ago, we were as tight as we’ve ever been. There’s some misunderstanding somewhere,” Bryce insisted.
“You give me that boy’s cell number. I am going to give him a piece of my mind. Imagine, leaving me to stew thinking you were separating,” Martha insisted. “And don’t you go away. I still need to check on you.”
Laughing, and wondering what shape Damon would be in in a few minutes, Bryce supplied the requested number, and signed off. By the time he got to the apartment, he was beginning to wonder just what was going on. He mounted the stairs and entered, to find Damon on his phone desperately trying to assure Martha Winslow that he was not playing some cruel joke on her.
“No, no. … Of course not. … I am so sorry. … Of course. … It never occurred to me that you would take it that way. … I’m sorry. … Yes, never again. I promise,” Damon assured her. “He’s right here. He just walked in.”
With that, Damon handed his phone to Bryce, who was grinning from ear to ear.
“Hi, Mom. … Yes, I just walked in. … I can tell you did. … He’s still looking like he was hit by a tornado or something. … Okay, Mom,” Bryce attempted to calm his still agitated parent. He walked into the library and sat while he completed his conversation. They discussed his sister, and the e-mail he sent her, and again he promised that all was well between him and Damon. No sooner had he signed off than his own phone rang. The screen said “Mom.” “Yeah, Mom? … No, I won’t forget to tell him. …. Love you, too. Bye.”
Bryce walked out into the common room to find Damon still sitting limply in one of the chairs.
“Here’s your phone,” he said, handing Damon’s phone back to him. “Mom said to tell you not to upset her like that again.”
“Whew,” Damon said. “That was some experience. I don’t think I’ve ever been reamed out as thoroughly as that.”
“What happened?” Bryce asked. “All I know is Mom burst into lamentation about us splitting up when I called her.”
“I was here. I called her so we could have our part of the Sunday talk before you got back. I started to explain that you were not here right now because we split up for a time because we each had separate things to do. Just about the time I was telling her that, the phone slipped out of my hand and fell between my chair and the wall. When I was groping for it, I must have hit the ‘off’ key. Anyway, just about the time I retrieved it, there was a knock on the door. It was Maddy, wanting to borrow some butter, so I went and got that before calling your mom back. It never occurred to me that she was panicking about us splitting up, because that thought never entered my mind. By the time Maddy left, and I called back, the line was busy. You must have called her by then, so I figured everything was fine. Then, my phone rang, and my ears have been ringing ever since.”
Bryce laughed. “Now you know never to leave Mom hanging.”
“Was she always like this?” Damon asked.
“Oh, yeah. The only time I can remember getting the full force of her fury was once when I was about eight, and did something stupid which could have resulted in electrocuting myself. Man, did I ever get the full blast then. I can still remember it vividly. She thought I had about killed myself,” Bryce reported.
“Well, one thing is clear. Your mother is definitely in favor of us sticking together,” Damon concluded.
“She likes you,” Bryce said, as he kissed his partner.
“I think I need something bracing before we leave for the soup kitchen,” Damon said.
“I’ll make it for you. You just sit and recover,” Bryce offered, as he moved to where the Bourbon was kept.
******
About half an hour later they were pulling up to the curb to pick up DeShawn and Malcolm. Even before opening the door, it was obvious that something was different. DeShawn did not have his hoodie over his head. But he also had no hair, or rather very little of it.
“What happened to you? Did you run into a lawnmower with your head?” Damon teased the boy.
“Ha, ha. Very funny. Not!” DeShawn replied.
“Actually, the short hair makes a lot of sense,” Bryce said. “You really did not want to keep that … unfortunate … color in your hair. This way, when your hair grows back out, you’ll be back to normal, and it does not look bad at all even now.”
“Thanks. I’m glad to see someone has some sense,” DeShawn said. “All the rest of you can do is make stupid comments.”
“How long have you had this short hair?” Damon asked, running his hand over DeShawn’s head.
DeShawn ducked. “Three days,” he replied, as he pulled back from Damon’s reach.
“Aw, can’t I feel it?” Damon teased.
“No. Just turn around and keep your hands to yourself,” DeShawn insisted.
“Where have I heard that before?” Damon joked.
“Probably from the last person you tried to grope,” Malcolm giggled.
“You’re as bad as your buddy,” Damon declared, to snickers from the back seat.
“You guys need to treat Damon nicely,” Bryce said. “He just had a severe shock to his nervous system.”
“Oh, yeah? What happened?” Malcolm asked.
“He ticked off my mom, and she let him have it,” Bryce reported on his partner.
“I know about that,” DeShawn said. “I got that treatment when I turned up at home after the hair salon last week.”
They arrived at the soup kitchen at that time. As they all spilled out of the car, Damon said to DeShawn, “Give me a hug. I need it after being reamed out by Bryce’s mom.” DeShawn and Damon hugged, as Bryce and Malcolm grinned at them.
Inside, they encountered the Sandovals. Mike and Kyle were talking to three guys who looked kind of familiar. When Mike saw Bryce and Damon, he called them to come over.
“Bryce, Damon, let me introduce you to Jerry, Tom, and Brian,” Mike said, pointing to the proper individual. “They’re the committee at my fraternity that oversees our charitable activities.”
Everyone shook hands.
“Oh, so you’re actually going to join us in helping out here?” Bryce asked.
“I brought that up at our last business meeting, like I said after our conversation last week. The brothers decided to let the committee decide, so that’s why they’re here today, to sort of see what would be involved,” Mike explained.
“You really ought to talk to Deacon Jeffers,” Damon commented.
“Oh, we did,” Jerry said. “In fact, Mike arranged for us to get here about half an hour ago, and meet the deacon then, so I think we have a pretty good idea about what’s involved.”
“Then let’s get to work,” Bryce suggested.
The three guys from Mike’s fraternity pitched in, and everything went smoothly. At five o’clock, when the doors were opened to the public, they began frantically serving meals for over an hour. Then it gradually began to ebb, until there was only a trickle of new diners going through the line.
It was nearly 6:30 when Bryce’s phone rang. It was DeShawn, and all the message said was “Help!” About that time the noise of a car horn being continuously sounded started up.
“Let’s go,” Bryce called, showing the message to Damon.
Mike, Kyle, Jason, Nate, and the guys from Mike’s fraternity also rushed out, none of them knowing what to expect. They found two men, probably in their twenties, shaking Bryce’s car, with DeShawn and Malcolm inside. DeShawn was also leaning on the horn, making as much racket as he could. That began to draw others from the soup kitchen as well. The guys went into action, and quickly surrounded the two intruders.
There was some shouting. When it looked like the intruders were totally surrounded, one of them pulled out a knife and threatened to cut anyone who approached. Several people tried to talk him down, but he was evidently strung out on something, and was not reacting in a reasonable manner. The man began to lunge at those surrounding him and his buddy.
After he had done this three times, Bryce acted. When the man made another lunge, Bryce swung into action, calling on the skills he had learned in those karate classes last year. He kicked the knife out of the man’s hand, then came back swiftly and kicked him in the groin. The man doubled over, falling to the ground and holding his crotch. The second man looked panicked. He began protesting that he had not done anything.
Police sirens sounded in the near distance. Someone had the foresight to call the cops. The intruder who was still standing tried to run, but several men grabbed him and held him until the police arrived on the scene. The man who had threatened with the knife was still on the ground, moaning and holding himself.
It was all very exciting, and it took about a half hour to get everything settled. There really was no contest. There were entirely too many witnesses to what had happened for the two intruders to have a chance of explaining it away. In the end, they were taken away in the police vehicle. Bryce was pounded on the back by lots of hands. DeShawn and Malcolm were lauded for their good sense in locking themselves in the car and phoning for help. The soup kitchen closed a little later than usual as a result of this incident delaying some dinners, including Malcolm’s.
“That was pretty impressive, Bryce,” the student named Brian commented.
“Yeah,” Damon said. “Caroline would be proud of you.”
“I just went into automatic once that guy began lunging at the crowd with his knife. I was afraid someone would get seriously hurt,” Bryce said.
“Someone did,” Mike said.
“Who?” Bryce asked, thinking he had missed something.
“The guy with the knife. It’ll be a while before his balls are back to normal, if ever,” Mike predicted.
That evoked solemn agreement from the others, who looked uneasy at the thought.
Shortly after, everyone cleared out, and the building was locked down for the night. The three guys from Mike’s fraternity indicated a desire to talk to Bryce and Damon further.
“We really can’t all descend on Pat’s,” Bryce said. “That’s what we normally do after leaving here, but he was a little uneasy with just six of us last time. Nine would be really pushing it. Are any of you actually legal?”
One of the three, Jerry, indicated he was over twenty-one.
“Okay, how about meeting at our place. We can talk there, and have a few beers without causing anyone any difficulty,” Bryce suggested. “And Jerry, stop on the way and pick up some more beer. I don’t think we have enough on hand for everyone. My treat.”
That suggestion was taken up, and so all nine students descended on the apartment on the second floor of Dr. Caldwell’s house. When they got back to the apartment, Bryce decided to bring in some additional help, and so called on Curtis in the next apartment. He explained what was happening and asked him to join them, as he could probably shed some light on aspects that the others might miss.
So there were ten young men gathered in the common room, which was a little crowded, but not much. They talked over every aspect of what might be involved. Bryce suggested that their experience that evening indicated that someone needed to be watching the cars if there were new and expensive ones, or even just really well kept ones like his. The undesirable element might take advantage of it to lift anything which could be easily carried away otherwise. Curtis reported that this had happened to one of the SAT brothers who volunteered on a different day. For the evenings, DeShawn and Malcolm might be available, but other arrangements would have to be made for the midday period during the week, when the boys would be in school. Damon suggested that DeShawn and Malcolm might recruit some of their friends to help, so as not to tie them down every day.
Bryce introduced an element of competition into the situation. He suggested that the two fraternities vie with each other to see who could put in the greater number of volunteer hours during a specified time. That would appeal to the competitiveness of the guys in both fraternities. He offered to pay for a trophy, which might be passed around after each period, whatever might be decided on. Tom, the member of Mike’s fraternity, suggested a trophy in the shape of a dinner plate. Everyone laughed, but it seemed like a good idea. They would wait a while, until the guys from Mike’s fraternity had a chance to get accustomed to the work, and then begin the contest.
So, when Jerry, Tom, and Brian prepared to depart, they had agreed to not only joining in the effort to supply volunteers for the soup kitchen, but also to the competition with SAT. Jerry also had DeShawn’s contact information, so he could work out some arrangement about car watching. Curtis agreed to speak to his counterpart in the other fraternity the next day. Everyone seemed pleased.