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Luck O' The Irish: Chapter 3 |
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[Untitled] WEDNESDAY DRAGGED BY with no exciting happenings. Thursday dragged itself in with light rain, calling for a good chance of thunder showers. Dark clouds were already rolling in slowly from over the lake. As dawn broke the students straggled out of the dormitory and across the lawn or on the paths to the college. Rarely anybody walked alone; usually they arrived in little clutches or groups. This morning one such group consisted of Chernobyl, Damien, Ritzie, Psyche, Amy, Phemie, Jojo the hippie, Skeet Newkins, and Katrina Witchita, Damien's girlfriend. They took the long way along the paths. As they passed the bike parking lot Ozzy joined them. While the rest walked in silence, Ozzy and Skeet told weird stories, their dreams of last night, and disgusting jokes. "...And then the preacher says, 'So that's where it went!' Ozzy said. He and Skeet laughed. "These guys've got a bad sense of humor," Psyche said. "Totally uncool vibes." "Hey, Psyche," Skeet called, running up and walking backwards so he faced her, "is that date still on for tomorrow night?" "Date?" Psyche echoed, mystified. "Yeah. We planned it last night, 'member?" "Nuh-uh, you planned it, all by yourself," Psyche replied. "I had no part in it. Therefore I don't want to go out with you. Therefore it's involuntary dating." "What're you saying, Psyche?" Skeet asked. "Therefore, I'm not going on a date with you tomorrow night," Psyche finished. "Oh," Skeet said. "Then how 'bout next Friday night?" Before Psyche could think of something nasty to say, several nasty somethings stepped into the group's path. "Oh, no," Ritzie whispered with a sigh. "Well, well, well," Ted Neff remarked casually. He and his cohorts--Perry and Jerry Kruger, Joshua Riddle, George Henry, Jethro Hurwood, even Ace McGovern--the members of fraternity Alpha Delta--blocked the whole path. "Looks like there's gonna be a showdown," Choby said with a quavery laugh. "I'll just be goin', just to even things out a little." "Keep your a__ put, Cat," Ted said in a flat, dangerous voice. Choby slipped back behind Ozzy and Skeet. "Whad'you guys want?" Skeet asked. He was black [sic] and talked with a slightly strange street accent which the others called "jive." [Per Note: I utilized some seriously offensive stereotypes in my earlier writing. This is the dialect more accurately known as African-American Vernacular English.] "Nothing bad," Ted replied, grinning. He turned and looked directly into Ritzie's eyes. "Just to be pals with the mick [sic]." "You shut your mouth!" Psyche started, but Ritzie shook his head and cut her off. "Never mind," he said. "Let's just go. We'll be late. Excuse me, Ted." He started forward, but Ted gave him a push in the chest. "What's that, mick [sic]? You say you wanna go? You too chicken to stand up for yourself? Huh, mick [sic]? Mick?" There was a yowling scream followed by a honk akin to the sound a goose would make if it were sat on. Ted howled and covered his head while the other Alpha Deltans, except Ace, scattered. The wailing goose sounds and hums continued, and Van Ness Etts, whose real surname was Mackenzie, came jogging down the trail, blowing the bagpipes. [Per Note: Why does the stereotypical Scottish character have the surname Etts, if his real surname is Mackenzie? Because I gave him the surname Etts before deciding perhaps my Scottish character should have a Scottish surname. While we're at it, "Van Ness" sounds more Dutch than Scottish.] He stopped and shook his hand after the. [Per Note: This likely should say, "after them." I took no note of it, so it's probably a typo and not in the original text.] "That'll teach ye ta insult a friend o' mine!" he shouted with a triumphant air. The others couldn't suppress their laughter. Van Ness smiled at Ritzie and smacked him on the shoulder. Ritzie smiled back. "Thanks, Ness." "No problem," Van Ness returned. "Ye jus' hafta keep an eye out for those fellas. A bunch o' snots they are. Canna believe they made it this far already. We outsiders gotta stick together, ye know. Well, I hafta be leavin' now. Catch ye all later." He waved and went back from where he'd come. [Per Note: More unintentionally offensive stereotypes as well as very poor attempts at writing dialect.] "Beam me up, Scotty," Choby sighed with relief. "Whatta guy." "This is all very fine and swell," Damien said, "but don't you think--" A loud, clear ringing cut through the air. Ace looked at his watch. "Mercy bell, for Pete's sakes [sic]!" he exclaimed. "We gotta get to class fast!" A different honk sounded from behind them, and a blue van, with a large black cat painted on the side along with the words BLACK CAT PARANORMAL INVESTIGATION SERVICE, slowly pulled up. [Per Note: I mentioned this group in "The Night Of The Goat Excerpt," I believe. Back then they were called the "Black Cat Researchers Service." Here, too, the name is altered from what I have on a note taped above the computer, which has been there for years. The note has the acronym "BCPIA"--leading me to believe that "Service" was later replaced with "Agency." These folks were supposed to play a role in a proposed spinoff series based on Doppleganger (misspelled).] The driver, Martin Johnson, and Kat's sister Kitty leaned out the windows. "Need a ride?" Kitty said with a smile. "Sure thing!" Kat said, and they all climbed in. Fortunately they were only several minutes late for their first hour classes, and their teachers understood. After history, Damien, Choby, and Amy met in the hall at their lockers. "Chobe, whatta we doin' in gym today?" Damien asked. "Coach Cambridge is being a softie today," a student called from his locker several feet away. "We only got a ten-minute run and a game of hockey." "Darn! Thought you said hookey [sic]," Damien said. "Catch you guys later." "¡Hasta luego!" Choby said, slamming the locker door with a bang. In Mr. Demo's second hour general science class, Amy sat down at one of the wallside tables, with drawers and sinks in the middle, next to her friends Andrina Barbara and Psyche. Psyche's best friend, Giselle Cramer, and Boomer Maxwell, sat across from them. Psyche was sitting at the end. "You would not believe what happened this morning," Psyche began. "Yeah!" Amy went on. "That slimeball Ted Neff--" she said his name with disgust, the way one might say "doggy doodoo" if she weren't used to the term "--came up and called Ritzie a mick [sic]. Can you imagine that?" "A mick [sic]? That's real insulting for an Irishman," Boomer commented. "Then he pushed him and wouldn't let us pass," Psyche added. The other three were silent, then Andrina said, "That's racist, isn't it?" "I'd say it is," Giselle said. What the others had said must have really affected her, since she barely ever spoke. "What's wrong with these dudes?" Boomer asked. "I'm white and I'm good." He grabbed Martin, who had come in to get something, and put his arm around his shoulders. "Marty--" "Martin," Martin interrupted. "--here is black [sic] and he's good." [Per Note: Martin is a black cat, like Katrina Witchita. Unfortunately, I can't recall if he was meant to be Black as in race or not. I didn't think he was, but it's been a very long time and my memory is poor.] He let go of Martin so abruptly that Martin nearly fell over. He turned to Rita Rodriguez. "Rita here is Hispanic and she's good." He ran up to Mr. Demo and exclaimed, so the whole class could hear, "Mr. Demo here is Greek and he is good!" [Per Note: "Demo" is supposed to be short for "Democritus." The name was retconned, similar to Van Ness's "real" surname.] The rest of the class clapped and cheered even though they didn't know what in the world Boomer was talking about. Mr. Demo simply said, "Thanks, Boomer," as if he were totally mystified. "Thank you, sir," Boomer replied, going back to his seat. "Okay, everybody, today we're taking a look at the wonderful world of lichens," Mr. Demo said. "Goodie gumdrops," Amy sighed, and sank into her usual reverie of body-building love-slaves with giant ostrich-feather fans. Damien was more than happy to have a ten-minute run, for he wanted to be sure that his ankle was alright [sic]. Coach Cambridge had to go inside while the students ran around the outdoors track. Among the class were Damien, Ozzy, Ted, Ace, and about a dozen others. Ozzy jogged up to Damien's side, talking to distract Damien from his slightly sore foot. "--And Joe was talking about getting a brand new Trans-Am [sic]," he panted. "I'd like your Lamborghini in my garage better." "Tough luck," Damien rasped. "Hey, Ritzie!" Ozzy called, waving. Ritzie was sitting on a bench, taking notes for a report on college life. He worked weird hours. "Ritzie, c'mere!" Ozzy said, so Ritzie came running up beside them, still with his notes. "Mind an interview?" he asked. "Not at all," Ozzy replied. "I was born very early in life--" [Per Note: I got that line from Brainy Smurf.] "Hey, O'Brien!" a voice called. Ted jogged up and joined them. "You takin' an interview? I'll be interviewed. I've got something to say. I'll give you a good report." Ritzie replied in a slightly strained voice, "I'm sorry, but Ozzy goes first." Ted's eyes turned dark. "I said I'll give you something good." "I'm sorry, but I need Ozzy's interview--" He only got as far as the "oo" when Ted swung his arm around and struck Ritzie's jaw with his fist. Ritzie's clipboard clattered to the ground. Ritzie also fell back. Damien stuck his foot between Ted's legs and tripped him, but also fell with a cry because of his sprained ankle. Ozzy fell upon Ted and pinned his arm behind his back. Ted struggled to free himself but Ozzy had taken a course in wrestling and kept him down, Ted cursing and shouting. At the same time Amy and Psyche, who had been playing tennis nearby, ran up, along with Coach Cambridge and Skeet. "What's going on here?" the coach exclaimed. Actually he said a four-letter word signifying a very hot place before "going." [Per Note: That would make the sentence "What's hell going on here?"] "I can't believe you, you racist pig, you snot-headed piece of trash, I can't believe you, you slimy rat," Damien raved, the pain in his foot prompting him nearer and nearer to swearing. Ozzy shoved Ted's face in the dirt, nearly choking him. "Break it up, break it up!" Coach snarled. He and Skeet pulled Ozzy away from the coughing Ted. The Hindenburg may have landed in Ozzy's yard without issue, but this he could not endure. Even as the others held him back he kicked and screamed furiously. "I just want to know what's going on," Skeet cried with confusion. "Oh, my God," Amy said, she and Psyche kneeling over Ritzie, "he's hit his head! He's hurt really bad! Somebody call the nurse! Anybody! Somebody do something! [Per Note: Missing end quotation mark.] "Quiet down!" Psyche tried to shout over the tumult. Ozzy broke free and he and Ted started a scuffle. Damien, still on the ground, grabbed Ted's ankle. Psyche pulled on Ozzy's arm. They obviously attracted much attention, for every student within earshot had stopped dead in their tracks. Mr. Demo had been leading a nature hike and ran to them, pulling Ozzy back again. Ted's nose was bleeding and he had a bruised cheek. Ozzy's clothes were torn and dusty. And Ritzie was unconscious, his head having struck a bench. It definitely looked as if the Olympiad was ruined. |