By the Light of the Moon, Part 1

Spring 2020

I entered the basement with the earnest intention of culling the piles of musty old boxes filled with the things that would make any hoarder proud. I turned away overwhelmed by the task. As the pandemic raged, stuck at home with nothing to do, I again committed to rummaging through those “treasures,” many stored away for decades, untouched.

I slowly descended the cellar steps, determined to do what needed to be done and surveyed the mess. I crossed my arms, rocked back on my heels, and wondered where to start. “Keep it or toss it” reverberated in my head as I bravely waded methodically through the accumulation of a lifetime.

I succeeded in creating two towers, one to be discarded and the other to be sorted further. Pleased with what I had accomplished, I forged on. Then, behind a stack of cartons, I discovered a small container marked ‘Susan’ which had gone untouched for more than forty years. I sneezed as I brushed off the dust before opening it.

Inside, I found faded pictures, a ticket stub to a play, browned with age, an old plastic student picture ID, and a calendar book labeled ‘Freshman Year.’ Stuffed into a corner was a small velvet pouch. I opened the sack and held it over my palm. A small pebble fell out. Memories flooded back to me as my eyes moistened.

Early September 1968, University

People strolled along Locust Walk as I leaned against the wall in front of my dorm. I tried to identify the new students and hunted for familiar faces returning from the summer break. Classes would begin in a few days, so tonight was free, with no study obligations, and time to catch up with old friends. Gator, a classmate from Virginia, joined me.

“Let’s take a walk to Hill Hall,” I suggested. “I’d like to check in on my sister. She’s a freshman. Moved in today. Would you like to meet her?”

“Sure,” Gator said. 

“If you’re interested, the kitchen manager asked me if I knew of anyone looking for work. I’m going to be scraping dishes again this semester. Each day I scrape, I get breakfast and dinner free. Plus, I can eat whatever I can scavenge off the trays. The girls always leave stuff over.”

“Are you serious about that last part?” Gator’s eyes narrowed and he gave me a sideways glance.

“Depends on how hungry you are.” I patted him on the arm, leaned away from the wall, and headed down Locust Walk. Gator followed.

Across campus, we entered a paved walkway that brought us to the entrance of Hill Hall, a rectangular brick building with ramparts and windows designed to emulate a medieval fortress, an apt motif for the women’s residence.

We crossed the bridge over the “moat” and passed through a double door into a foyer that led to the central lobby surrounding the dining hall on the floor below. In the center of the dining hall, a fountain created the pleasant sound of running water. I glanced up at balconies, each a part of a lounge serving seven rooms.

Leaning back, I viewed the ceiling, four stories above us. We walked to the rail overlooking the dining hall. Staff rearranged chairs and tables as music played and a crowd assembled.

“The guy we need to see about a job is Mr. Scott,” I said. “I’m not sure we’re going to find him with all that’s going on down there. Sorry.”

“We can check on that tomorrow,” Gator said. “We’re here. Let’s find your sister. By the way, I saw a poster on the wall as we came in. Says, mixer tonight, freshman only. We should crash it.”

I followed Gator down steps to the dining room. At the base of the steps, two graduate student advisers sat at a table guarding the entry. We tried to walk casually by as if they didn’t exist. 

“Hold on a moment, you two.”

We stopped and turned around. “Do you mean us?”

“Are you freshmen?”

Before the guardians asked for our student IDs, Gator turned toward a group of women and waved. One of them waved back.

“We’re with them,” Gator said

The grad students frowned but let us pass.

I winked at Gator and whispered, “That was easy.” We walked to the co-eds who answered Gator’s wave, greeted them, then quickly moved to the opposite side of the room. 

“Before we look for your sister, I think you should ask someone to dance?” Gator said.

“Why me? Why don’t you ask someone?”

“I’m content just looking. Don’t feel like mixing now but I’d be happy to check out your moves. Come on, show me.”

Did I possess any moves? I peeked at Gator. He’s baiting me.

Gator tapped my shoulder, leaned over, and whispered in my ear, “Don’t be too obvious when you turn. A cute person is walking our way.” Gator gave a subtle motion with his head. I turned and smiled.

“That’s my sister.”

Trim and athletic, her hair, dark brown, ironed straight, Ellen returned my smile as she approached.

“You’re not supposed to be here. Freshmen only.”

“Is this how you greet your brother?”

“This must be Gator. You’re certainly as big as Joe described you.”

“And every bit as lovable,” Gator grinned.

I waved him off. “Did you meet your roommate, settle, check your class schedule, call Mom?” 

“Are you for real?” Ellen rolled her eyes. “I’ll phone Mom later.”

I frowned, checked my watch, and wondered when later would be.

Gator deflected attention away from me to Ellen. “How do you like it here so far?”

“Been here for about eight hours. Nothing bad has happened. So, I guess everything is fine.”

“Let’s make our way to those tables,” Gator suggested, his voice raised in competition with Sly and the Family Stone’s ‘Dance to the Music’. He pointed to a spot on the opposite side of the room. “We could sit down there, then we wouldn’t need to shout.”

At first, we moved easily through the crowd. As we approached the edge of the dance floor, the bodies became more densely packed, and the going slowed. I signaled to Gator and Ellen we should cut across. As we stepped around the couples dancing, I stopped abruptly. Gator and Ellen piled up behind me, nearly knocking me over.

I turned to Gator. “Over there.” Gator and Ellen leaned closer. They must not have heard me. I nodded in the direction of the middle of the dance floor. Gator scratched his chin. Ellen scrunched up her forehead and squinted, unsure of what I was trying to communicate. But she turned slowly following my gesture. We saw her standing there. 

As she talked to her partner, her long straight hair, parted in the middle, cascaded over her shoulders causing the highlights to shimmer in the muted light.

There was something in the way she moved her arms as she spoke, pleasing and sensual, appearing to charm her companion. She turned in our direction oblivious to our attention, backlit, her face shadowed, her eyes mysterious. I couldn’t stop looking at her.

“She is lovely,” Gator remarked with true reverence.

“She lives on my floor,” Ellen added, her expression flat. “I haven’t met her yet. From the sound of her accent, I bet Long Island. Forget it, Joe, she’s out of your league; and, if I’m not mistaken, she appears to be with a guy.”

“Gator, does that incredibly attractive young lady standing in the middle of the dance floor, appear to be with anyone?” I said as I prepared to overcome my innate shyness and approach her.

“She does give the impression that she is with someone, but then this is a mixer,” Gator said.

“Exactly!” I said with bravado.

“Exactly, what?” Ellen said. “You’re not going to walk up to them and break in? You’ll make an ass of yourself.” Ellen leaned toward Gator. “Don’t embolden him.”

“At a mixer, you are supposed to mix, right? Besides, I’m going to marry her someday,” I said.

“Big brother, please promise me you won’t lead with that line. Trust me, she will not be impressed. What makes you so sure she wants anything to do with you?”

I grimaced at Ellen and started for the center of the dance floor. 

She faced her partner, still talking, not dancing. As I approached her, she appeared even lovelier. Her eyes were mesmerizing. The power of her presence overwhelmed me. Once by her side, she acknowledged me. My eyes immediately met hers. The pleasant, sweet scent of flowers filled the air. I expected sparks to fly. I took a deep breath. 

“Uh, hi. Would you like to dance?” I shouted over the loud music. My voice sounded harsh. Her eyes turned cold. Did I surprise her? She knit her brow. Maybe I annoyed her? I crossed my arms and bit my lip.

“I’m with someone. Thank you.” She said and turned away.

I stood my ground for a moment, stunned. With her abrupt turn, she cut off the potential for further interaction. I walked back to Gator and Ellen; my ego wounded. Gator doubled up with laughter, which added to my humiliation. 

Ellen scoffed, “I told you so. Not very impressed, was she? You are correct, however; she is very attractive.”

“I’m not giving up. I’ll meet her, just not tonight. Do you know her name? I don’t want you to fix me up, I just want to find out more about her.”

“I’m sure we’ll connect,” Ellen said, placating me. She shook her head. “Pathetic,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Gator, let’s go.” I tugged on his shirt sleeve. “I’ve had enough mixer. We’ll come back tomorrow and talk to Mr. Scott. Ellen, if we keep hanging around you, you’re not going to meet anyone. Don’t forget to call Mom.” I kissed my sister on the cheek and gave her a hug before Gator and I left.

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