Four college students find themselves at the center of a criminal investigation involving campus bombings. The story examines the potential for mistrust between young and old people.
MATRICULATION
Chapter One
Aurelia and Kitty, Bob and Neal were friends since elementary school. They had decided to attend community college together, agreeing that it would be “da bomb” to stay in town another couple of years, hanging out together and earning cheap credits towards their ultimate matriculation to universities.
Aurelia had a growing interest in health sciences, Kitty wanted to be a writer, and Bob was going into his father’s business, probably right after getting an associate degree. Neal was the different one, a misunderstood loner whose contradiction was these three close friends. As caring and outgoing as Aurelia was, Neal was indifferent to people he didn’t know, and at times even to these three, his only close friends. As intellectual and verbose as Kitty was prone to be, Neal kept both his innermost and trivial thoughts to himself. Bob loved the almighty dollar and the toys it provided while Neal contented himself with the same black jeans and T-shirts that seemed to be his only possessions. Unlikely though the friends might be, they shared part of nearly every day, and tried to schedule their required prerequisite classes together.
“It’s time for chemistry class, and you guys wouldn’t want to displease Miss Neizwander, now would you?” teased Aurelia. Aurelia was tall and slender, with short blond hair. Her skin was pale, clear and wholesome. She could be witty, and was warm and touchy with people. Aurelia’s genuineness made even strangers instantly comfortable, or at the very least, disarmed. Kitty was on the short side, athletic but not fat. Her calves, quadriceps and arm muscles were defined and shapely, belying the athletic background of the gymnast that she had never been. Kitty loved literature, poetry and drama. Whatever might be in her backpack along with her laptop, she nearly always had a book in her hands. It could be Poe, Beowulf, Anne Rice, or anything in between, and she often managed to weave the material at hand into relevant conversation. Her mid-length auburn hair was fine and straight, a constant ally for emphasizing nods or emphatic agreement. Bob was experimenting with Lacoste and Tommy Bahama attitudes. He presented the enigma of a preppy schoolboy with wicked ways. Neal was close to being a Goth, but lacked the unnaturally dyed hair or Good Charlotte eye makeup. His thick soled combat boots were sufficient protection from the smooth floor tiles of the establishment. Neal tended to be sullen, quiet, and withdrawn. When he did speak up, Neal rewarded with intelligence and irony.
When Linda Neizwander entered the classroom, voices hushed, as they would for a respected teacher. It was the young men who fell silent first, with chatter from a few girls trailing off a second or two later. While Miss Neizwander was regarded as a competent college chemistry instructor, she commanded the greatest attention due to her sheer physical presence. She showed propriety and professionalism on campus. Yet there could be no doubt about her sexual power, not to the boys, nor the girls. Linda Neizwander wore short yet corporate looking skirts. She covered her long torso with modest and ruffled blouses that never revealed too much of her healthy décolletage. Her shoulder length hair was dark brunette, and it shined almost black. One could tell that it was soft, even without touching it.
The teacher began her lecture, “Before we resume our discussion on the periodic table of elements, I must remind you all that we are on a heightened sense of alert.” There were snickers from the back of the classroom, as Bob lifted his chair-desk slightly with his knee, suggesting a mock erection. This was not lost on Miss Neizwander, and she turned her head ever so slightly in Bob’s direction, to acknowledge awareness, and a bit of feigned consternation. The comment seemed incongruous, coming from this kid who parted his hair on the side, sweater sleeves tied loosely around his neck. Miss Neizwander squinted her green eyes. “The alert I was speaking of, to the rest of you, is the security concern due to the recent bomb incidents on this campus,” she continued. Neal chuckled in delayed reaction to his friend’s antics. Bob was reinforced by the first sign of life from Neal in days. Miss Neizwander resumed, “Please be on guard, and use your powers of observation. Each and every one of you must be ready to report anything suspicious.” Finishing that statement, the teacher turned to give Neal a long, silent look. He was blanketed by suspicious stares from other students.
During the past month, there had been two bomb incidents. The first was in the main gymnasium, during the wee hours of the night. It destroyed the bleachers and half of the gym floor. The police had surmised that a faulty timing device was to have detonated during a basketball game earlier that day. But luckily the explosion happened later, in the wee hours when the gym was vacant. A week later, The second incendiary reduced the commissary building to cinders, leaving students to feed off-campus or survive on vending machines.
The rush of students from Miss Neizwander’s class spilled out and merged with a group of older people coming down the hallway from the amphitheater. They were mostly elderly men and women, participants in the school’s holocaust research project. Among the group were several survivors of concentration camps. A short old man, hunched over and walking labouredly yet with purpose, pointed to Neal and asked if he was going to a funeral, an apparent reference to his biker shirt and black jeans. Neal said quietly, “Yeah, yours old man.” The retiree’s eye brows went up, and he demanded that Neal repeat what he had just said. “Oh, leave him alone, Elie” an old woman said. A moment later, Neal caught a glimpse of numbers tattooed on the senior’s forearm. He turned to Bob, Aurelia and Kitty, waiting for a comment. Kitty quipped sympathetically to Neal, “Wow, an hour earlier last Wednesday, and those geriatrics would have been in the commissary for the early bird flambé.” Aurelia tipped her head and an eyebrow up to signal that someone was listening behind Kitty. As she turned around, Kitty saw that Miss Neizwander had heard her comment. After a moment of awkward uncertainty, the chemistry teacher lowered her head and added, “They’re old, and would soon die anyway.” Surprised, yet relieved by the teacher’s quip, Kitty laughed quietly, falsely, and walked towards her next class.
Bob turned left towards another wing, leaving Aurelia and Neal to walk together. A big, blond jock coming towards them deliberately bumped Neal. “Freak, what are you going to blow up next?” Neal’s backpack slid off his shoulder from the check. He stopped to realign himself without looking back. “Forget that asshole,” Aurelia said. Neal shook his head and answered, “For some reason, jerk wads like that have hassled me since I was in third grade.” Aurelia lovingly wrapped her arm around Neal’s head, applied a Nuggey, and said, “at least your mother dressed you better then.”
Chapter Two (next day)
Thursday night was free movie night on campus. “The Graduate” was required viewing for many students’ syllabi, and the four friends agreed to meet at the theater, following a few underage indulgences at the campus pub.
Kitty and Aurelia were walking on the path towards the Student Union Building. They noticed the Dean of Students giving some kind of tour to a 40’s something couple, and Kitty wondered if they were parents, potential philanthropists, or what. The Dean was waving his arm expansively at the door to the building, when the girls caught what he was saying. “What you see just ahead is the student pub. Our BYOB policy encourages our upper classmen to enjoy moderate libations on campus, rather than drinking in the dorms, or at off-campus clubs, which is prohibited. Note that beer is preferred to hard liquor.” Some jubilant kids carried packaged six packs into the pub. Then, just as he finished his statement, a group of senior citizens headed towards the entrance from another direction, openly carrying Martini glasses, condiments and a bottle of Vodka. The Dean narrowly shook his head. Kitty asked Aurelia about the movie’s start time, and Aurelia looked at her watch, a pastel colored Technomarine. “One hour from….NOW” she answered. “9 PM sharp.
Bob was waiting for Neal and the girls. He had a pub table for four, with unopened beer cans in front of each seat at the table in anticipation of his friends’ arrival. Elie approached him with a white haired woman, apparently his wife, and two other lady friends. “Can we take this table, young man?” Bob made an incredulous face, and answered, “Ummm let me see, now…NO”
Without further hesitation, Elie pulled out a chair and sat down. Bob, in turn, stood up from his seat. “Come on, man. I’m waiting on some friends.” The old fellow announced that his friends were already here, and the three women in their eighties smiled indulgently. Just then, Aurelia and Kitty showed up, and Bob slid out one of the free chairs for Kitty. At some chiding from his friends, Elie relinquished his seat. He stood up with some difficulty, and wagged a finger at Bob. “You think you’re a tough guy, don’t you? You think I’m just a withered old man. Well I’ve done things that you’ll never know! I fought with the Irgun in ’48 so you could be arrogant. I’ve beaten Hitler’s spawns!” Visibly upset with his last statement, Elie lost his balance, and slid backward, just as Neal got to the table, seemingly out of nowhere. Neal caught the bent veteran just in time, helping him to straighten up and regain his balance. Turning to see his rescuer, Elie shrugged off the assist and moved along towards another table that had opened up.
“What the hell is the Irgoon?” Bob asked the others. Neal took a deep breath. “The Irgun… Full name was Irgun Tsvai Leumi. They were a bunch of radical Israeli militants in pre-Israel Palestine. To some, they were friends of the Jewish state, to others, thugs, terrorists.” Bob looked at Neal with astonishment. “How the hell do you know that?”
Aurelia smiled and patted Neal on the back. All that Sunday school at Temple Zion wasn’t for naught,” she said. Kitty reminded Bob, “remember when you were Catechism boy in elementary school? Well, Neal and Aurelia had their Hebrew studies…”
Chapter Three (The Movies)
It was ten minutes to nine, and the campus theater, actually an enormous lecture hall outfitted for multimedia, was filling up. Kitty told Aurelia that she felt uncertain about the thin chair cushions knowing that on any previous Thursday night, “a Depends may have exceeded its capacity.” Aurelia added that the elderly were here in force simply because the movie was free. “It isn’t part of the Holocaust project, and they’ve all seen this thing before we were born,” she complained.
Craning her neck, Kitty sighted several open seats in the center of the theater. She led the others through the row and sat down. Bob prankishly stepped over her feet and took the seat on her right side. Aurelia was on her left, with Neal on their leftmost. Aurelia squeezed Kitty’s knee as the house lights dimmed, and in a child’s voice, lisped, “Mommy, I’m thcared.” This ritual was performed regularly since childhood, when Kitty had really said that to her mommy at “The Exorcist.” Aurelia thought that was hysterically funny when the girls were just eleven, and Kitty waited for her friend’s little torment at every movie they attended together since.
The lights dimmed, as “The Graduate” began, and someone scurried down the right aisle, pausing at the row where an empty seat was to Bob’s right. He knew that perfume. As the figure ducked down into the seat, he greeted, “Good evening, Miss Neizwander.” The voice in the dark answered, “And to you, Bob.”
Ted and Ron were sophomore drama students working off some tuition, as ushers. A couple of stoners, they opted to wear vintage uniforms that were acquired along with projection equipment and memorabilia from a defunct movie house. The outfits were maroon/burgundy colored, with yellow brocades, epaulets and matching caps. The young men looked a little like organ grinders’ monkeys. In time though, the boys’ initial goofiness had yielded to a genuine sense of propriety in this garb.
Ron strolled down the aisle to the utility closet, where he would find his flashlight, broom and dustpan. The theater was actually a large lecture hall, and the closet was awkwardly located on a side wall, about halfway down the left aisle. The floor was pitched, for stadium seating. Ron shut the door behind him to prevent light from bleeding out into the theater. He located his flashlight by its amber charging light, and reached for the dustpan and broom. As he moved the sweeper away from the wall, Ron noticed something else blinking. It was a red LED, emitted from a box about one foot square. There were wires and other components exposed. Ron ran for Ted, and dragged his coworker back for a look. There were heckling outcries from the audience when light escaped from the closet.
“Dude, what the hell does this look like to you?” Ron asked of his partner. Ted shrugged. “It’s definitely not a popcorn machine.” The two simpletons’ eyes met in instant comprehension and confirmation. “We better evacuate this place now,” said Ted. “Yeah,” agreed Ron. “But wait, what if we’re wrong. Isn’t there some law about not shouting theater in a crowded fire, or something? Let’s just call the cops.”
Miss Neizwander was yawning aloud. As someone “shushed” from behind her, that sound merged into jet engines, as the onscreen scene drew back from a close-up of Benjamin Braddock’s face, revealing a plane full of passengers of various ages.
The sweet smelling chemistry teacher leaned over Bob’s armrest and complained how tired she was. “I can’t believe I’ve got to grade all those papers after this. I’ve been on my feet all day.”
Then, the lanky teacher slid forward and down in the seat, bent her legs, and kicked off her slides. Bob’s eyebrows went up, and Kitty elbowed him, having witnessed Ms. Neizwander’s cozy behavior. Aurelia hadn’t noticed, as she watched Dustin Hoffman’s character make his way through the moving sidewalk and luggage carousel at LAX. Neal sat quietly, noting the Graduate’s isolation, even while surrounded by crowds of people.
Benjamin Braddock is told, succinctly, that his inevitable future is “plastics.” Aurelia had a sudden rush of empathy for Neal. She noticed a tear running from his eye. Here was her friend of so many years, sensitive and vulnerable, and suddenly attractive. Aurelia wiped Neal’s tear with her finger, then turned straight to face the screen again. Miss Neizwander was beginning to coo, “Oh, my body feels so stiff. I wish I could get a massage.” Bob turned his head left to meet a very wide-eyed Kitty. “Go for it, dude,” she whispered. Ever the opportunist, Bob slowly moved his hands to his teacher’s shoulders. He gently started rubbing. “Ooooh, that is so very good, Bob. Yes, that’s what I need.” Silently turning to Kitty for advice, Bob made his eyes very big. He couldn’t believe his good fortune, and wondered how Miss Neizwander would face the student body after this. Kitty made a downward gesture with her fist, urging Bob on like a football jock. Miss Neizwander closed her eyes, and rolled her head slowly in apparent ecstasy.
Aurelia was the same age as Neal, just 19, but Mrs. Robinson’s seduction of Benjamin made her feel a rush of feminine power, and she put her hand on Neal’s thigh. Two seats to the right, Bob had worked his hand under the back of the chemistry teacher’s blouse, under the guise of lower back massage therapy. She arched her back a little, and started breathing rhythmically. Now Aurelia and Neal were looking over, sufficiently fascinated to forget their own bourgeoning tryst. Bob was thrilled. He took one of Miss Neizwander’s hands, and pulled it towards his lap. Suddenly, just as Mrs. Robinson peeled off a stocking, Miss Neizwander was on her feet in an abrupt instant. She grabbed her purse, a small black Coach tote, and darted out to the aisle. Neal and Aurelia were startled, as were others nearby. Kitty said to Bob, “What the…?” and Bob said, “Where are you going, you’ll miss the movie?” There was laughter from that section of seats. Linda Neizwander spoke in a deep, whispering yet guttural voice, from the aisle, “Nachtisch Ende.” Then, as heads turned to watch her, she ran towards the top of the theater, and main entrance doors. Suddenly, the house lights came on, and police entered from the exits at the opposite, bottom end of the room, near the movie screen. Shocked and disoriented, Miss Neizwander dropped her purse, and fled the theater in apparent embarrassment.
Cops entered the seat rows from both sides, and seized Neal. Aurelia protested as officers treated him roughly and stepped on her Reefs. Neal disappeared, and an announcement from the sound system directed everyone to exit the theater at the bottom exits, with more police assisting.
Chapter Four
Bob was the first of the four friends to be questioned. The cops seemed very interested in Neal, and how long Bob had been acquainted with him. Bob was cavalier, irreverent, and he reminded the police about Kent State. Detective Smithers said, “that was the National Guard, you idiot.” He further explained that everyone in attendance for The Graduate had been at risk, potential targets of the “Campus Bomber.” Bob straightened up and told the cop that Neal was harmless, and that they had been friends forever. “What about the girls?” demanded the detective. “What about them?” asked Bob sincerely and incredulously.
When it was Kitty’s time for interrogation, she was all tears and stutters. “Neal is the sweetest person there is, he could never hurt anyone.” Detective Smithers placed a printed page on the table. “What about this, Kitty? Destruction of public property, using explosives?” The pretty teen rolled her eyes, now dry with the realization of what her friend was facing. “Big deal, so Neal blew up a urinal in eighth grade with an M80, what are you getting at?”
With feigned self-composure, Kitty winked at Aurelia as they passed in the hall of the police station. Neal’s parents were in Europe, and nobody else had vouched for him. He was in serious trouble.
Just then, Neal and two other detectives, one very tall, the other seriously short, stepped out of another room. One of them told Neal, “This time, we know that a remote detonation device is involved, and it will be found… Better not be in your house, kid or you’re looking at 20 years.” Neal was as tired and upset as he looked, and Aurelia put her arm around him and walked out with the others.
Smithers went over to the other detective team. The short guy asked him, “What did you get?” Smithers answered, “Not much, but that preppy kid was seen making out with a teacher.” The tall cop jumped in, “Yeah, that’s Linda Neizwander, teaches chemistry. We checked her out. Spends her whole life taking care of her elderly invalid father when she’s not on campus. Pretty ordinary life for such a looker. Should we bring her in?” “I don’t think so,” said Smithers. “The student she was smooching isn’t underage, and we’re looking for a bomber, not a bombshell.” The short detective tilted his head towards Neal and his friends, down the hall. “We’ll keep an eye on the Donny Darko kid.”
“Wanna go out somewhere, you guys?” asked Bob. Aurelia turned to face Neal, and with her back to Kitty and Bob, said “No, you two go ahead, there’s something we’ve got to do alone.” Neal was surprised, and then he opened his eyes wide and smiled a little. Then, Aurelia put the biggest, sweetest kiss on Neal’s lips that he had ever been given. Bob and Kitty walked down the steps of the police station, and headed towards downtown. Bob exploded, “Wow, Kitty, what is up with that?” Kitty explained that Aurelia always had feelings for Neal. “Well, it’s about time, is what I meant,” said Bob, a bit embarrassed that he had never figured that out. Kitty exclaimed, “Pretty interesting evening for you, too Mr. Studley!” Bob broke out into a big smile, and said, “Yeah, somebody must’ve slipped Neizwander some GHB or something. What was she thinking? How does she expect to face anyone who was in that theater again?”
Ron and Ted were cleaning up the lecture hall. There would be classes here in the morning. They still had their usher uniforms on, in denial that their domain was anything but a real movie house. Ted put away his broom and flashlight, looked down to where the bomb had been, and shook his head. “You lock up, OK Ron? I need to get some rack time before my history exam tomorrow morn.”
Ron nodded, and saluted good night as Ted left. He resumed folding up the last few seat bottoms.
At the back row, he noticed something stuck in the aisle seat. It was an expensive looking handbag, with big letter C’s on it, facing every which way. The owner would be happy to have it returned the next day. Ron opened the bag to look for I.D. He cocked his head. Inside, there was no wallet, nor anything else, save for what looked like a TV remote control, with a single button on it, and a flashing LED.
Britain 2099: people with disease and disabilities are not tolerated. When Travis is discovered to have epilepsy, he is put away in one of the feared institutions. Then he discovers his seizures are powerful enough to send him back in time, and that'
It's 1969 and some high school students in a small town decide to oppose a war that makes no sense and promises to set their lives on a different path against their wishes.
MATRICULATION
