By the Light of the Moon, Part 2

Read Part 1 here. Be sure to come back for parts 3 & 4 next week!

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We found Mr. Scott the next day and Gator got the job working with me. The evening shift became our scheduled time to scrap. Two weeks into the semester, settling me into my disciplined routine of classes, lacrosse, wiping and stacking dishes and glasses, and then studying at the library. Working at Hill Hall was the highlight of each day. 

I arrived in the dining hall dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt, donned a white apron that was generally covered with food stains, and placed myself in the entrance to the work room. I bumped into Ellen a few times after the mixer and the only new information that Ellen brought me was the girl’s name: Susan.

I met the student waitresses before they entered the scrapping room, ostensibly to save them the trip in while giving me the opportunity to continue to survey the dining area. Susan arrived for dinner almost nightly but I only managed to say hello once.

Was she avoiding me? Did she remember me from the mixer? Try as I might, I couldn’t capture her attention. Maybe, she found the aura of food stains decorating my chest mingled with the aroma of garbage permeating my being unappealing.

“Joe, get in here,” Gator called.

“Why? Did you find something to eat?”

“Stop looking for that girl. I’m falling behind in here.”

“I’m coming. One more second.”

“Bingo. Got an untouched piece of apple pie here, Joe.”

“Start without me.”

“In here now or I’m walking.”

I hurried back into the room. Gator stood by the long stainless-steel sink, glass in one hand and dinner plate in the other. He reached up to put the glass in a rack above his head. At the same time, he held the platter over the mouth of a gaping garbage can. The remains of mashed potatoes, corn, and turkey smothered in gravy slid off the plate and into the can.

Gator gazed at me, eyes narrowed, ready for combat, his apron festooned with fresh food stains. He picked up a second dish and tossed it at me. I caught it against my chest but was unable to maintain my grip on the gravy-greased plate. It cascaded off me to the tiled floor and shattered with a resounding crack.

“Nice, Gator. How many plates did you break tonight?”

“Lost count. I thought you said we were going to work together. So far, you do more looking than scrapping and every night is the same. Speak to her yet?”

“Speak to whom?”

“You’re looking for that girl from your sister’s floor. You’re still in pain over getting shot down. Watch me, you said. I watched. You crashed and burned.”

I was out the door again before Gator could protest. He muttered something about my apparent likeness to the anal orifice but I didn’t care.

“Gator. Come here. She just walked in with Ellen and her hallmates.” I didn’t want her to notice my attention, tried not to gawk, but enthralled by her every move, I stared on without shame.

Gator came to the entrance. Katie, one of the student waitresses, met him and handed him a stack of trays with a tall pile of dishes on them. Jennifer followed Katie and put her stack of trays and dishes on Katie’s. Gator glowered at me as I stood outside the door directing the waitresses to him as I kept my eyes on Susan. Tami placed a third stack on top of Katie’s and Jennifer’s.

I turned to help Gator. Too late. The precarious pile started to shift. Gator overcompensated for each sway, then attempted to juggle the toppling mass of glass and waste to the nearest garbage can.

Some dishes, refuse, and glasses touched down in the can. Unfortunately, most ended up on the floor. Glass shattered in an endless attention-gathering cacophony. My eyes met Ellen’s as she found me at the source of the noise. She grimaced as she winced. I ducked back into the scrapping room to escape, mollify Gator’s rage, and assist in the cleanup.

The sound of the breakage caught Mr. Scott’s attention and prompted him to pay us a visit. He thundered briefly before allowing us to go for our dinner break. I begged Gator to let me go first. I hoped to find room at my sister’s table, formally meet Susan, perhaps talk to her and, if the opportunity arose, maybe ask her out.

I raced through the line taking food without much thought. Platter piled high, I breezed past the cashier and out into the dining room. Normally, we ate in a small room behind the main hall away from the co-eds, but I refused to miss this opportunity to dine with her.

While filling my tray with food, I spied our mother entering the dining room. She worked in the counseling office on campus but generally pretended my sister and I weren’t here. However, the semester was young, and it was Ellen’s first time away from home.

I guessed Mom saw no harm in showing up at Hill Hall to check on her. She took a seat next to Ellen. No one would fault me for wanting to eat dinner with my mother and sister. I walked confidently over to the table.

“Mind if I join you?” I put down my tray and sat before anyone answered. I should have considered what effect my garbage-stained apron would cause for the people at the table? Those opposite me stopped eating. Susan ignored me. Still, no one left. I greeted my mother and sister with a hug and introduced myself as Joe, Ellen’s brother.

Susan’s head popped up. Her eyes widened. She focused on Ellen. “He’s your brother?” She asked. “I thought he was your date at the freshman mixer.”

“Yes, he’s my brother, a junior, this is his work-study program. Looks like they’re paying him to break dishes.”

I spoke before my sister continued. “Well, introduce me to your friends, Ellen.” I suspected Ellen knew my motive for joining them and wanted to challenge my patience for as long as she could. She saved Susan’s introduction for last.

As I exchanged greetings with Susan, I took in her beauty, but limited eye contact to avoid making her uncomfortable. I averted my gaze and glanced down at her plate.

She ate half her gravy-less meat, half her peas, and half her sprouts, finished eating one wedge of lettuce and wrapped a second wedge in a napkin, perhaps to be saved for later. Her long, graceful fingers held a glass of water as she participated in the small talk.

She smiled and laughed. To my joy, though done with her meal, she stayed. Susan asked my mother about her job on campus. I asked Susan where she was from and how she found school so far. I engaged her in conversation, while her hallmates twittered at the other end of the table. Was it too obvious that I appeared only interested in Susan?

“Nice bod, Joe’s a hunk.” Bonnie, Susan’s roommate, said in a stage whisper to Chris, their next-door neighbor.

“Did you know that she is going out with Paul Stevens again? He’s on the Political Action Committee. Hubert Humphrey is coming to speak here this week. Paul has asked her to go with him to the airport to pick up Mr. Humphrey and escort him to campus,” Janet, the hall’s self-appointed organizer, her voice filled with a sense of awe, whispered aloud to Bonnie.

“Yes, but I’m not sure if she’s available. She’ll need to check her calendar book,” Bonnie said and giggled.

“She needs a secretary. How does she keep track of all these guys? Better question, when does she find time to study?” Ruth, Janet’s roommate, added.

Susan appeared distracted by the whispering at the other end of the table and glanced in their direction with furrowed brow and pursed lips. They stopped talking and Susan refocused on Ellen, Mom, and me. My half-hour dinner break had expired and I had to relieve Gator. My heart raced and I began to perspire. I had to act. Ask her out.

I stood and said goodbye to everyone at the table including Mom and Ellen. Then I directed my attention to Susan. My heart pounded. I clenched my fists and almost lost my courage. Susan pushed her chair back, placed the paper-wrapped lettuce wedge into her leather bag, and started to stand. Ask her out, now.

“Susan.” She stopped her movements and looked at me. I began to melt, took a breath, and prayed I wouldn’t lose my voice. “I was going to get tickets to a play I read in English class freshman year. It’s called, ‘Waiting for Godot.’ Would you like to go with me? It’s Friday night, downtown. It should be good, even though it’s a little strange.”

Susan frowned. Did I detect concern on her face? Was she going to turn me down, again? Had she stayed at the table because she felt obligated to make conversation with Ellen and our mother? I glanced down and realized how disgusting my apron appeared.

“Better check your calendar,” Bonnie called from the other end of the table. Everyone stared at us in silence. Mom fidgeted in her seat and gazed across the room. Ellen turned red. 

Susan glared at Bonnie then turned back toward me. “I would be happy to go. I think we’re going to be reading that play in my English class this year.”

“Great!” I didn’t try to conceal my excitement. “I’ll call you with details and everything later.”

I said goodbye to everyone again then carried my tray toward the room where Gator waited for his turn to eat. I spun around one last time when I reached the entrance and caught a glimpse of Ellen and Mom exiting the dining room with the other women.

During the last hour of work, I scrapped with enthusiasm and cleaned with exquisite thoroughness. The chrome sinks and faucets shined. Every speck of broken glass was appropriately dispatched into the garbage can. The walk back to our residence was full of the same excitement. We sang loudly, off-key of course since neither of us could carry a tune.

I had to talk to Ellen and find out what happened after supper. I called her floor phone and she agreed to meet me in front of the library at 9:00 PM.

“After dinner, Susan avoided me,” Ellen said.

“I overheard Bonnie and Susan talking. Bonnie thinks you’re cute. She asked if Susan had room on her calendar for you. Susan got angry and asked Bonnie to stop teasing her. Bonnie asked Susan if she had reservations about going out with a hallmate’s brother.

“Then, Bonnie laughed and said you can’t very well turn down a guy who asks you out in front of his mother,” Ellen said with a snicker. “Janet came into the room and announced another phone call for Susan, Paul Stevens again. Susan complained that it was shaping up to be another lost night without getting her reading done. Gotta go.” Ellen hugged me and left.

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Need more fiction? Check these great stories from the MockingOwl Roost contributors and staff out:

• By the Light of the Moon – Part 1
• Before They’re Gone – Story #1 in the Will & May Story Series
• At the Red Door – Story #2 in the Will & May Story Series
• Like Father, Like Son – Fantasy fiction
• Epiphany – Emotive fiction
• Meatloaf for One -Emotive fiction
• In the Mediterranean at Midnight – Romance fiction
• The Wilderness Between Us – Part 1 & Part 2 – Romance fiction