Read Online Finding Tom by Simeon Harrar - Free Book Online
Authors: Simeon Harrar
Tags: Fiction
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leftovers, my miserable mood melted away slightly as I filled my plate with heaping portions of potatoes and chicken and gravy. I had only ever experienced such a feast in my books. It seems there was indeed a benefit of living amongst the rich for a change.
Charles and I squeezed onto the end of a long table of other boys in blue blazers and ties, all looking especially dapper for the occasion. Apparently, I was the only one who had not received the dress code memo. Many of the boys were old acquaintances of Charles from school and other social events. It seems that Locklear had quite a reputation among the upwardly mobile. I shoveled food into my mouth ravenously as I watched and listened.
It did not take long to distinguish a definite pecking order among the boys. Nothing was said, of course, but it was all easily inferred through eye contact, tone of voice, and the other usual social cues. From what I could tell, Charles was somewhere in the middle of the pecking order and was clearly known as a bit of a scoundrel—not in the negative sense, but because of his nose for mischief. The conversation at the tables was centered primarily on induction into the different campus societies. There was a special buzz about secret societies. Apparently, as legend had it, the original three societies at Locklear were formed illegally, and thus their members were unknown. Only upon graduation would students reveal their membership in one of these groups, having by that time passed their place on to worthy, handpicked underclassmen. It was the utmost honor to be chosen for induction into one of these three societies that were well known to cause mischief and mayhem all over campus, much to the frustration of the faculty and especially the dean of students.
I thought the idea of formal societies to be rather unappealing, but secret societies, on the other hand, greatly intrigued me. I was very interested in becoming a member of a secret club, but I realized that I would never be chosen because of my low social status and my anonymity among the incoming students. Nonetheless, I made up my mind to talk to Dr. Emory about the secret societies the following day when we were scheduled to have lunch.
After a full second helping, I slipped away to explore the campus. The place reeked of the things money could buy. Not a stone or stick was out of place. I was especially fond of the ivy growing up the sides of the buildings because it made me feel as if I’d somehow stepped back in time. Most of the buildings were open, so I walked down their long marble corridors and peered into their giant lecture halls with oak desks and gritty green chalkboards. Beyond the buildings, there were a number of athletic fields and then a large lake with canoes and plenty of crew boats. Locklear was famous for its fantastic crew teams; many of them had won national titles. Thick woods stretched beyond the lake, up the side of the next hill, and off into the distance. It was a beautiful sight I came upon as I watched the sun dip and set the lake ablaze with fiery reds and oranges. I felt a glimmer of that old childish joy that used to overtake me whenever I encountered such beauty. It stirred deep within me—and then went back to sleep again. I sat quietly on the hillside with my back against a stone wall, just watching and listening.
CHAPTER 8
Adjustments
I SLAMMED THE ALARM CLOCK as it clanged in my ear. It was Sunday morning, and all students were required to attend the eight o’clock Locklear service. I heard Charles groan, much to my satisfaction. I felt no pity for him. He’d rolled into the room around three, looking rather disheveled before collapsing to sleep on his bed. From the smell of him, I figured he’d been making love to some whiskey. I hopped into the shower, got dressed, and was ready to leave, and still Charles lay there unmoving. “Charles,” I whispered. “You better get up or you’ll miss the morning service.”
He rolled over.
Charles and I squeezed onto the end of a long table of other boys in blue blazers and ties, all looking especially dapper for the occasion. Apparently, I was the only one who had not received the dress code memo. Many of the boys were old acquaintances of Charles from school and other social events. It seems that Locklear had quite a reputation among the upwardly mobile. I shoveled food into my mouth ravenously as I watched and listened.
It did not take long to distinguish a definite pecking order among the boys. Nothing was said, of course, but it was all easily inferred through eye contact, tone of voice, and the other usual social cues. From what I could tell, Charles was somewhere in the middle of the pecking order and was clearly known as a bit of a scoundrel—not in the negative sense, but because of his nose for mischief. The conversation at the tables was centered primarily on induction into the different campus societies. There was a special buzz about secret societies. Apparently, as legend had it, the original three societies at Locklear were formed illegally, and thus their members were unknown. Only upon graduation would students reveal their membership in one of these groups, having by that time passed their place on to worthy, handpicked underclassmen. It was the utmost honor to be chosen for induction into one of these three societies that were well known to cause mischief and mayhem all over campus, much to the frustration of the faculty and especially the dean of students.
I thought the idea of formal societies to be rather unappealing, but secret societies, on the other hand, greatly intrigued me. I was very interested in becoming a member of a secret club, but I realized that I would never be chosen because of my low social status and my anonymity among the incoming students. Nonetheless, I made up my mind to talk to Dr. Emory about the secret societies the following day when we were scheduled to have lunch.
After a full second helping, I slipped away to explore the campus. The place reeked of the things money could buy. Not a stone or stick was out of place. I was especially fond of the ivy growing up the sides of the buildings because it made me feel as if I’d somehow stepped back in time. Most of the buildings were open, so I walked down their long marble corridors and peered into their giant lecture halls with oak desks and gritty green chalkboards. Beyond the buildings, there were a number of athletic fields and then a large lake with canoes and plenty of crew boats. Locklear was famous for its fantastic crew teams; many of them had won national titles. Thick woods stretched beyond the lake, up the side of the next hill, and off into the distance. It was a beautiful sight I came upon as I watched the sun dip and set the lake ablaze with fiery reds and oranges. I felt a glimmer of that old childish joy that used to overtake me whenever I encountered such beauty. It stirred deep within me—and then went back to sleep again. I sat quietly on the hillside with my back against a stone wall, just watching and listening.
CHAPTER 8
Adjustments
I SLAMMED THE ALARM CLOCK as it clanged in my ear. It was Sunday morning, and all students were required to attend the eight o’clock Locklear service. I heard Charles groan, much to my satisfaction. I felt no pity for him. He’d rolled into the room around three, looking rather disheveled before collapsing to sleep on his bed. From the smell of him, I figured he’d been making love to some whiskey. I hopped into the shower, got dressed, and was ready to leave, and still Charles lay there unmoving. “Charles,” I whispered. “You better get up or you’ll miss the morning service.”
He rolled over.
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