C7 Serendipity Pass Paths of Sickle and Scythe The End Final Edit
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A Fresh StartChapter 22: End Of The Year free porn video
Saturday, June 9, 1973
School was over. Finals had been this week, and now they were done. Towson State had finished a couple of weeks earlier. I was all set. I had the credits I needed to graduate, early acceptance at RPI, and even my formal letter of acceptance into ROTC. I was signed up for a few more humanities and social sciences classes at Towson State this summer, to kill some time and pick up some more easy credits.
The most amazing thing to me was that I was the class valedictorian. This was the student with the highest grades in the class, and it seemed as if the college credits I had aced weighed more than high school credits. The really crazy part was that neither time I went through this I had been asked to join the National Honor Society. This just proved to me that it was totally about favoritism and school politics and nothing about grades. When Parker went through high school, he ended up as salutatorian (number 2 in grades) and was asked to join. When Maggie followed him a few years later, with even better grades, but a don’t fuck with me attitude, she wasn’t asked to join. How I became valedictorian without being asked amazed me.
But valedictorian I was, and now, instead of sitting with my classmates, I would sit up on the stage and make a speech. Graduation itself was being held off campus since we simply didn’t have the facilities to handle it. I had a graduating class of about 660, and if you figured each of those 660 had 4-5 family members coming, you needed seats for almost 4,000. We were having graduation over at Essex Community College, over on the far side of the county.
I wasn’t sure I was inviting anybody except Jeana. Once I moved out of the house, I changed my address with the school to my new PO Box. However, this was in the days before massive databases, and school records were a hodgepodge of written records, some kept in the school office, some at the county Board of Education, and still others spread around to places like the counseling office. Before I even had a chance to decide if I wanted guests, my mother called to say she had received the tickets already. I just shrugged silently and got a spare ticket for Jeana. If Hamilton showed up and fucked with me, I’d just kill him on the spot and let Dad deal with it.
I really thought hard about my speech. When I was seventeen the first time, I was terribly afraid of public speaking. I didn’t become comfortable with speaking in front of groups until I was older and going to grad school. Once you are in an MBA program, you end up speaking to lots of classes about business plans and presentations, and I got over my nerves. I wasn’t worried at all now about speaking. I just wondered what the acoustics would be like. The school gives you a bunch of suggested topics a few weeks ahead of time, with lots of crap like how we are marching into the future, and bullshit like that.
I didn’t like those topics, and when it finally came to me, I wasn’t sure the school would allow me to make the speech. I went ahead and wrote it anyway and submitted it to the Principal. He read it, and then reread it. “You really want to get up on stage and say this?” he asked.
“I do.”
He replied, “You aren’t going to make any friends with this.”
“Maybe that’s why I need to say it.”
He gave me a hard look and then shrugged. He signed off on it with the words, “It’s your funeral.” He handed it back to me.
Now it was time to speak. We all marched in together, in alphabetical order, but I was at the front of the line, and I had marched up to the stage. Other faculty members were up there in gowns and mortarboards, along with the guest speaker, a local county representative or something of the sort, a politician. We marched in, girls on the left and guys on the right, and sat in the lower seats facing the stage. Parents and guests sat on the sides, up in the bleachers. After everybody and their brother got through talking, but right before we got our diplomas, it was my turn. I stood and went to the podium. I was more worried about tripping in the damn robes than in anything else. Mine were too long and dragged on the floor. I reached inside and pulled out my speech and set it on the podium and looked out. I took a deep breath. Showtime! I was about to lose every friend I had gained in the last four-plus years.
“When I was asked to speak today, I wondered what I should speak about. I wondered what legacy our class would leave behind, and even more importantly, what legacy our generation would leave behind. As a nation we are rapidly approaching our third century of existence. Are we as a generation prepared to handle it?
Two hundred years ago, a generation of Americans with names such as Washington, Jefferson, and Adams were already talking about their legacy. They would go on to declare independence, fight a war, and write a constitution, and then build an entire new country. Theirs was a legacy of service and sacrifice.
Four score and seven years later, another generation of Americans had a disagreement about the future of that new country. They had another war, but they ended slavery and conquered a continent. Theirs was a legacy of service and sacrifice.”
I had to be careful here. Maryland was still south of the Mason-Dixon Line and even though the Civil War ended over a century ago, there were still people in the neighborhood who called it The War of Northern Aggression. Once a new preacher came to town and put The Battle Hymn of the Republic on the hymn list for Sunday service, and half a dozen people got up and marched out of the church!
“Our parent’s generation climbed out of the Great Depression, defeated Tojo, Mussolini, and Hitler, and then went on to put a man on the Moon. Theirs was a legacy of service and sacrifice.
Now it is our generation’s turn. We even have a name, the Baby Boomers. We were born between 1946 and 1964, and we here are right in the middle of that generation. Our parents survived the Depression, and after fighting in World War II and Korea, decided to come home and relax. Well, we’re the result of that relaxation. As a group, we are the largest, the richest, the most privileged, and the most pampered generation of Americans yet born. I look at the legacy we are building, and so far, it isn’t very impressive.
If the power goes out, we complain because we can’t watch our favorite TV show, yet my father was born in a farmhouse without electricity or running water. We complain about war and burn our draft cards, but my mother would go on vacation to the beach and see ships burning where German submarines sank them. One day our parents will be known as the greatest generation of Americans, and we will be known as a bunch of whiny bastards! If previous generations left us legacies of service and sacrifice, ours seems to be a legacy of entitlement!”
Okay, I stole the greatest generation line from Tom Brokaw, but by the time he writes it in the new future, nobody here will remember. Also, the Principal had wanted me to lose the word bastards, and I told him I would change it. Somehow it got left in.
“This is not a legacy I wish to leave behind. A member of our parents’ generation once said it best. He fought against tyranny and oppression, was wounded in that fight, and then survived to become a great American leader, only to end up paying the ultimate price for his service. John F. Kennedy told us to not ask what our country can do for us, but to ask what we can do for our country. I cannot change the behavior of a generation. I can only change my own behavior and tell others what they can do to change their behavior. I cannot make commitments about how others will behave, but I can make commitments as to how I will behave. Therefore, I plan to make the following commitments.
First, I am going to college. There is no surprise in that. I dare say that every valedictorian in America will go on to college. No, my commitment is to go to a school that teaches science and engineering. Scientists and engineers invent and build things, and inventing and building things seems a whole lot more productive than buying and selling and squabbling about things.”
I hoped that wouldn’t insult the salespeople and lawyers in the crowd. I wondered if they would even be aware I was talking about them.
“Second, I commit myself to serving our country. Again, it is not too surprising that a valedictorian has scholarships lined up. Mine is through the Army. I will be a soldier. We live in a great nation, and one that has enemies. I doubt I will make it a career, but I intend to help protect this nation, so that future generations will have the chance to make their own legacies.
And finally, I plan to make some money, maybe quite a bit of money. No, that is not the commitment; that is just the American dream. No, my final commitment is that when the time comes, every April 15 th, to pay my taxes, I will do so with a smile. Taxes are what pay for civilization, said a member of the generation that ended slavery, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. They pay for roads and bridges and sewers and water and police and firemen and garbage collectors and everything else we need to function. So, I will pay those taxes and not complain, because I much prefer living in a civilized world than in an uncivilized world.
Those are the prices I will pay, to leave our nation a better place. What price will you pay, or will you decide not to pay anything? My challenge to you is to commit to improving this nation and to leave behind a legacy of service and sacrifice like those who gave us this chance. Thank you.”
I stepped back from the podium. I had been so nervous about what I was saying, I hadn’t really noticed the reaction I had gotten. Was anybody even listening, or were they all just sitting there waiting for this interminable day to end? I looked out at the audience, and they were just sitting there staring at me in silence. Okay, this had been a notable bust. I moved back to my chair, hoping to not make any more of an ass of myself than I could.
Then the applause started. I looked up and saw my classmates applauding and climbing to their feet. Stunned, I looked out and found the audience doing the same. I didn’t understand! I had just insulted every member of my class and called them whiny bastards, and now I was getting a standing ovation. This was simply incomprehensible. I just stood there as the building erupted in cheers and applause, and the Principal shook my hand. I didn’t know what to do. After a minute or so, I sat down, and we finished the ceremony. I collected my diploma, my classmates trooped across the stage and got theirs, and we marched the hell back down the aisle as our parents applauded. I felt totally drained, and my shirt was drenched with flop sweat.
I was mobbed by my classmates out in the parking lot. I peeled off my robe and just leaned against the side of the building near the doorway. Ray found me and handed me a flask, and I chugged a couple ounces of something potent before I handed it back, coughing. He just grinned at me. “That was amazing!” he said with a big grin.
I didn’t understand. “I don’t get it.” I had just dumped a Cleveland Steamer on my fellow Baby Boomers, and everybody was cheering for me. This made no sense whatsoever.
It got crazier. All my friends, and even kids I barely knew, came up to me and shook my hand. Finally, I grabbed Ricky Santorin, one of the guys in the college prep group like me and asked him. “Ricky, what’s going on? Everybody says they loved my speech, but I don’t understand why! I just dumped on everyone!”
“No, you didn’t,” said Mrs. Rogers, coming towards me. “You challenged them. You challenged them to be better than they were, and they responded. Right now, every parent in that room is wondering if any of you will live up to that challenge.”
Ricky laughed. “My parents are wondering about paying to send me away for four years. Their challenge will be getting me to graduate!” I had to join in the laughter at that.
Mrs. Rogers smiled. “Then here’s a fourth challenge, Mr. Buckman. You come back to your high school reunion in five years and show us what you’ve done to meet your challenge. Your classmates will be waiting on you!”
Ricky laughed at that and pushed me back against the wall. We fumble-farted around for a bit, and then Jeana came bounding up, followed by my family. My parents had brought Suzie with them; Hamilton had declared a sudden stomachache, and nobody wanted him there anyway. Ricky took off and I hugged Jeana and then Mom. Dad I simply shook hands with. Mrs. Rogers said, “I was just commenting to your son how impressed I was with his speech. I can’t recall ever hearing one quite like that.”
For once even my mother looked at me proudly, although Dad looked at me with pride and a certain degree of skepticism. “Me either,” he replied. “Since when did you know I was born in a house without water or electricity?”
“Since every summer when we go to the family reunion, and you tell us all about it!” I winked at Suzie, and she joined me in reciting, “Walking barefoot to school, through the snow, thirteen miles, uphill, each way!” Every summer the story got longer and more dire, until all three of us kids began reciting it before Dad could get around to it. Dad had lived on a farm out in Arcadia until shortly before the war, at which time they moved into the working-class Pimlico section of Baltimore. “I told Aunt Peg about it one time and she told me the truth.”
Mom laughed at him, and Dad just smiled and said, “Your Aunt Peg lies.”
“I’ll tell her you said that.”
At that point it became surreal. The Principal came up to me, dragging the speaker, the county politician who had talked before me, and a third man, a young fellow who announced he was with the Baltimore Sun. Everyone congratulated me on my brilliant speech, and the county representative suggested I had a fine career ahead of me in politics.
It must have been a very slow news day for somebody to be reporting on a high school graduation. It was kind of strange. The reporter already had a copy of my speech that he had gotten from the Principal. I had no idea it was copied and available. “That was an amazing speech, Carl. Are you planning to go into politics?”
I stared at him for a second. “God, no! I would like to think I have more self-respect than that!”
Several people laughed at that, although my parents and the politician were mortified. “You don’t think much of politicians?” asked the reporter.
I thought about it for a second. “Politicians are a lot like puppies. They’re cute and warm and loving and like to lick your face, but as soon as you put them down, they like to go to the corner of the room and pee on the carpet. The difference is that with a puppy, you can yell at them and rub their noses in it and hit them with a rolled-up newspaper, and sooner or later they learn not to pee on the carpet. Politicians never learn. No matter how much you yell or how much you rub their noses in it or how hard you hit them, they always end up peeing on the carpet.”
The reporter grinned at this, and the Principal and the politician ran away like I had just puked on their shoes. Dad just shook his head and rolled his eyes, and Mrs. Rogers smiled
“Are you visiting anytime soon?” asked Mom, which caused Mrs. Rogers to look at me funny. I had kept my apartment secret from everybody at school but Jeana.
“I wasn’t planning on it. I was thinking I’d take Jeana out.” I turned to her. She was in a very pretty little sundress, nice and light and airy, perfect for a June day. “Did you want to go out to lunch? How did you get over here?”
“Your parents picked me up. I’ll go with you,” she answered.
“We can go out to eat, if you’d prefer,” Mom said.
I was tempted to say no but decided to make nice. “I’ll find you in the parking lot in a few minutes. I’ll follow you.”
My parents and Suzie left, and I found myself with Jeana and Mrs. Rogers. “Carl, I know this isn’t my business, but you only visit your home?”
I shrugged, and then took a deep breath. Mrs. Rogers was a good person and a good teacher. She had taken a chance on me. “I moved out two years ago. I have an apartment in Towson.”
Mrs. Rogers’ eyes snapped wide open at that. “Two years!” She looked over at Jeana, who had an arm through mine. “Oh, my!”
“I’m pretty independent, Mrs. Rogers.” I gave a quickie explanation of the problems with my brother, without getting too detailed. “It was just simpler for all of us.”
“Well, I just don’t know what to say. I’ll be very interested in what you have to say for yourself at the reunion in five years.”
I grinned at that. “With your shield or on it, Mrs. Rogers,” I replied, quoting the orders given to Spartan hoplites before going off to war. Either come home carrying your shield, victorious, or come home carried on your shield as a makeshift stretcher. No other choices were allowed. Conquer or die.
“Precisely.”
Jeana and I moved to the parking lot, and I followed my family to a restaurant in Cockeysville. After that, I drove Jeana back to my apartment, for a little personal time. It was still only mid-afternoon, so I went over to my liquor cabinet and pulled out a pair of wine bottles. “White or red?” I asked her.
She smiled. “Let’s go for the red today.”
I nodded and put back a bottle of chardonnay. I glanced at the bottle of red. “How about a nice little cabernet?” I grabbed a couple of wine glasses and the corkscrew and peeled the foil off the wine bottle. I pulled the cork and poured some in our glasses and handed hers to Jeana. “Here’s to graduation. Thank God that’s over!”
Jeana laughed. I took the bottle and my glass and led the way back into the living room area and set them down on an end table. I sat in the armchair and smiled at her, and she sat down sideways on my lap, being careful not to spill her wine. I picked up my wine and sipped it. “Have I told you today just how beautiful you are?”
“I’m not sure. I’m trying to remember, but I just can’t be sure,” she responded teasingly.
“Well, it’s true. You are very, very beautiful.” I sipped some more wine and gave her a leering look up and down her body. “And that’s a lovely little dress you have on, too.” She was wearing a white linen sundress that left her shoulders bare except for a couple of very thin straps. “Is it new?”
“You noticed!” she said with surprise.
“Of course!” I eyed her lewdly. With the hand behind her back, I found the hook-and-eye catch and flicked it open and then grasped the zipper and tugged it down.
“I think you have ulterior motives, Mister Valedictorian!”
I gave her my most innocent look and set my glass back on the end table. “Oh, how can you say such a thing? I’m just trying to be helpful! Could you imagine what your parents would say if you came home with a spilled wine stain on this nice white dress? They’d be furious!” I pulled the straps down off her shoulders. Underneath the dress Jeana had been wearing an almost transparent strapless bra, and I doubt it came from K-Mart.
“You’re so thoughtful.”
“I am, I am!” I set her glass to the side and, as she lifted off my lap, I tugged her dress completely down and off. Jeana was left sitting on my lap in her bra and matching transparent white panties and her ankle-strapped high heeled sandals. Suddenly I felt quite warm, and not because the air conditioning was set too low. “You look spectacular!” I handed Jeana back her wine and she sipped at it silently, while starting to fiddle with my tie.
I popped the clasp behind her back and her bra slipped off as well. “Worried about wine stains there, too?” she asked.
“I really think that would set your mom off.”
“What would set my mom off would be simply knowing that I had a bra like this!” she replied.
“Would they kill you first, or me first?”
“I think it’d be a tag team event. Dad would work on you while Mom would kill me, and then they’d swap off.” Jeana handed me her glass, and then lifted her delicious little rump and slipped off her panties. “Forget about them and drink your wine! Don’t you remember? I’m going away tomorrow for ten days. This is our last chance to be together. Hurry up! I need something a lot more stimulating than wine!”
I laughed at her and kissed her, and then helped her strip my tie and shirt off. She was right. Tomorrow morning the Colosimos were heading back to New York for vacation with their family. We needed to screw our brains out this afternoon, since after I took her home today, it was Celibacy City for the next week and a half. We finished off our wine while we made out in the armchair, and then ran into the bedroom to get more comfortable. I was exhausted and sated by the time I drove her back to her parents after we made dinner. We made love four times that day - missionary, cowgirl, doggy, and then missionary again. Jeana had an appetite and ability for carnal dissipation that was world class!
Summer was beginning, and we were planning to spend massive amounts of time together before I went off to college. I was still taking a few more humanities courses this summer, but I would still be able to spend time with her getting hot and sweaty. During the coming week, however, I was able to spend time getting into the swing of summer school over at Towson State.
It was almost two weeks before I was able to see Jeana again, and our actions were a little limited, since her monthly friend was making an appearance. Furthermore, her parents were acting very suspiciously around us, as if they didn’t want to leave us alone. At one point I asked Jeana what was going on.
“I don’t know, but I think it’s something my Aunt Theresa said to her. My cousin, Mary Jane, who’s a year younger than me, got herself knocked up. The entire vacation that’s all we talked about,” she replied.
Mila
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