Chapter 4: Ben's Big Move

Ben Bristol: Man on the Move

When Ben Bristol told his coworker Janine that he’d be transferring into the U State University in the Fall, her face turned red.  “You can do better than that place,” Janine said.  “Don’t waste your life.” 

Like you, Janine?  It wasn't an especially nice thought, but Ben was tired of people acting as though he’d made a bad decision about school.

Everybody had their own horror story to tell about the University, but the ones Ben remembered the most were the ones his co-workers at the SavMart told him one afternoon in the break room.  Ben was only part-time and looked forward to quitting once school began.  He didn’t want to be trapped listening to people during his fifteen minute break but Janine was full-time, had an entire hour for lunch and didn’t care.  Barbara, a seventy-year-old cashier whom nobody much liked, eavesdropped. 

Janine had a tight perm that always looked wet, and wore eye shadow that never came off.  Her feet were propped up on the table and a lit cigarette dangled from her right hand. 

“A friend of my husband’s friend went to State,” Janine said. “And he and his parents were still unpacking their car his first day and people were standing by the library.  There was a student leaning out the window, about to jump and the people on the ground were shouting and encouraging him.”  

“So, did he jump?” Ben asked, humoring her. He had heard a similar story several times before, but one version of the story had the incident taking place at Berkeley and the jumper was rescued at the last minute. Another story had it occurring at Oberlin where a man and his girlfriend, hippies the both of them, had leapt in a suicide pact. Janine’s story was suspect in that there weren’t any dorms located near the library, none that Ben remembered from the orientation in July.  How could the parents have been unpacking the car right at that spot?

 “Are you kidding?” Janine asked.  “It was 1973; the guy was probably on every drug out there.  He jumped and fell right onto the concrete.  That was all I ever needed to hear about the school; that place is nuts. I sure wouldn’t let my kid go there with all the freaks.” 

Janine’s daughter Bess also worked at the store in the Photo department. Bess was a high-school dropout and spent most of her free time smoking pot and riding around with her long-haired, heavy metal boyfriend whom Janine always complained about.  Ben doubted Janine had much to worry about Bess going to any college but he didn’t tell her that.

Barbara put her coffee cup down.  She left a bright red lipstick trace around the rim.

“Remember Joy, who worked in house wares for about ten years?” she asked.

Neither Janine nor Ben did.

“Her daughter Lucy used to come in here with her, cute girl. Joy came in here a while back, and she tells me that Lucy went to school up there,” Barbara leaned forward. “And she turned into one of them dykes.”

 “Lucy the lezzie,” Janine said.  She and Barbara chuckled.

“Yeah,” Barbara said.  Her laughter turned into a coughing fit.  Ben and Janine waited for her to finish.  “It’s a shame.  Joy was so upset.”

“So what happened to Lucy?” Ben asked.

“Joy doesn't know, they don’t talk. Lucy’s probably still there with all the other queers,” Barbara said.  She pointed at Ben with a long, red fingernail. “You should go to school somewhere else, not with those people.”

Ben was glad to escape from the break room, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Joy and her daughter Lucy for the rest of the day.   The reactions of Janine and Barbara had been typical: when people found out what school Ben was transferring into, very few had wished him luck and a few openly expressed disappointment.  People had been nicer when they found out Ben had enrolled in a community college after high school.

High school had not inspired Ben to try and better his life. Knowing he was gay early on didn’t help.  He went to school, did his homework and graduated right in the middle of his class. During his junior year of high school, he joined a Catholic Youth Group at the urging of his parents who wanted him to get out of the house.  After a few years of Thursday night prayer meetings, weekend retreats and everybody pretending they were the better Christian, Ben quit the group.  He figured somebody else would be suckered into joining and go through the motions, but he was done.  The one positive thing that came out of the youth group was his friendship with Dave, who lived in the next town.  Dave was the first person Ben ever came out to, and Dave had handled it in stride. 

The Fall after high school, Dave and Ben both attended the same community college; Dave for financial reasons, Ben because he had no idea if he wanted to go to college in the first place.  After a dull start, Ben found himself warming up to the school and the next three semesters went by quickly. He earned a 4.0 his final semester and graduated with his Associates degree.  With the ease that comes from transferring from one state school to another, Dave and Ben were both accepted into the University for the following Fall.  It was only half an hour from Springfield, but Ben was finally getting out of the house.

Moving day was on a hot Sunday in late August.  Ben hadn’t been gone from his house for twenty minutes when he found himself in a large traffic jam on the highway.  All the cars trying to get off on Exit 19, the university turnoff, had backed up for miles.  Ben had been playing Bonnie Raitt in his tape player the whole trip but midway through “Three Time Loser” the sound grew warbly; the cassette was melting or the tape player was dying.  It didn’t matter if the tape player broke.  The car was only his for one more afternoon and was being handed down to his younger brother the moment Ben had moved his belongings into the dorm.   The a/c in the car had died long ago – another reason Ben wouldn’t miss the vehicle - and rolling down the window barely helped. At the rate the cars were crawling, stirring up a breeze was impossible. 

Ben ejected the tape and turned on the radio to the oldies station.  “Love is Blue,” was playing.  Ben settled back in his seat and watched the line of cars in front of him stretching around a curve until they disappeared behind a hill, the humidity tinting everything orange. 

Ben had expected to be nervous, but he was calm.  His excitement at going away to school hadn’t wavered despite the deadly dull July orientation for transfer students which had consisted of nearly twenty four hours of dull lectures,  (the University had been founded as an agricultural college, expanded into a state school, had a nearly 150 year history yet *ahem* barely anybody of note had graduated from it)  signing up for classes that weren't guaranteed, taking a walking tour in 90 degree weather up and down hills and sleeping in a stifling room on a lumpy mattress.

The one moment during orientation that interested him was when two guys walked by, one of them for being the only black guy he saw on campus, was saying, “…said you can get laid in five minutes here.”

 That’s what Ben was hoping.  He’d worked outside all summer and was in better shape than he’d been in a while, plus he was tall enough to carry any excess pounds.  He may not have been hot, but he looked okay enough to maybe get laid within his first five weeks.  Ben was, to his chagrin, a virgin.  If he’d ever had the opportunity to lose it, he would have happily surrendered, but his life so far had been an endless succession of crushes on straight guys.   The only other guy at orientation who definitely was gay was Edgar, and he was not the guy with whom Ben wanted to lose his virginity.

Edgar stood out with his thick beard and curly hair. He wore long sleeves, despite the heat, and had a small Star Trek insignia pin next to a pink triangle button on his shirt.  He looked fifteen years older than everybody else. 

Edgar noticed Ben staring at his lapel.

“You know what that means?” he asked Ben, indicating the triangle pin.

“Yeah,” Ben said. “Totally, it’s cool.” 

Edgar grinned. 

The next day, they found themselves sitting next to one another (by chance? Ben thought not) at the housing selection conference.   Edgar had reached over and nudged him.

“Would you want to room together?”  This was exactly what Ben hadn’t wanted.  No, no roommates who were Star Trek fiends, not even if they were gay. No thank you. 

“I’m trying to room with my friend in Northeast,” Ben had lied.  Dave was committed to being roommates with his fellow Eagle Scout Zack. “But thanks so much.” 

Edgar nodded his head and went back to his sheet.   Throughout the rest of the day, Ben felt Edgar staring at him whenever he was around.  He looked forward to having orientation be over so he could get away.  There also existed the fear that somehow he would be assigned Edgar as a roommate; transfer students didn’t get the luxury of learning who their roommate would be.  But that was dumb.  It was such a big school that Ben figured he’d probably never see Edgar again.

The cars on the road sped up, then slowed down again.  Ben glanced over to the vehicle next to his. A guy around his age was sitting in the back seat behind people Ben assumed were his parents.  Maybe that was him, the guy.  He didn’t necessarily look gay, but who could tell these things.  Barbara and Janine certainly couldn’t tell about him.

Once Ben arrived on campus, it was easy to park and unload.   Ben was living in the nicest part of the campus and the only one that looked traditionally New England.  There were eight brick buildings tastefully arranged around a sloping, grassy quad with a sand volleyball court.   It was more attractive than the high rise dormitories on the other end of campus that resembled housing projects.

“Last name is Bristol, first name Ben,” Ben told the short-haired woman in the dorm office handing out keys.  She squinted at the list, looking for his name.

“You’re here early,” she said. “Older students won’t be coming until tomorrow.”

“I’m a transfer student, it said to come today …” he started to explain but the woman waved him off. 

A student handed him his key. “214. Hampden, across the parking lot.”

Ben took his key and walked out.  214. Hampden Hall.  No matter how he tried, he couldn’t get out of Hampden County.  The door to his room was slightly ajar, so Ben pushed it open all the way.

“Jesus,” he said.  His new roommate- or the man he assumed was his roommate- was sitting on a bed in boxer shorts and a t-shirt and smoking.  Ben was annoyed once he got over his initial relief that his roommate wasn’t Edgar; he’d requested a non-smoker and this guy looked as though he’d recently smoked through a pack, judging from the overflowing ashtray.   The other bed –stripped bare - was covered with shopping bags and books.

The smoker stood and stubbed out the cigarette.  “Ben? I’m Cedrick.  Nice to meet you.”

He had a British accent.  It was coarse, Ben thought. 

And sexy.

“Sorry about the mess, I wasn’t expecting you to be here yet.”

An open box of crackers sat on the desk, leaking Ritz’s.  Next to it lay a worn copy of Playboy, a jar of a tar-like glop labeled “Marmite” and a knife still slick with jam.

This was getting off to a wonderful start.