It was like a light went off in his head. "I never thought of that."
"It's better than that. Bruno is number one, and he's staying put in the triple, which he inherits from Lynchburg. No way is he giving up the triple to bunk over here. Agreed?"
"I'll buy that. What about Barry?", he pointed towards the wall, on the other side of which Barry bunked.
"It doesn't matter. There are two rooms opening up downstairs. Pigpen and Schlitz are both graduating this year." Pigpen had inherited the room on the landing from his sophomore year roommate, and invited Schlitz in with him. "So are Harry and Ralph in the front room." Two seniors were going, too.
"So even if Barry wants to move, we're a lock either way.", finished Joe.
"That's the way it looks to me."
"What's it worth to you?", he asked wickedly.
"Well, I won't tell anybody about the stash of queer porn you've been hiding, and how you like to bugger sophomores in the middle of the night."
"Fuck you, Buckman!", he said with a laugh.
"Sounds like we're moving."
As expected, Barry put in for one of the rooms with one of the incoming sophomores, and took the front room overlooking Burdette. Joe and I got the second room, on the side of the house overlooking the pool and across from the Black Light Room.
Chapter 43: The Summer Of Our Discontent
Marilyn didn't like that I wasn't going to see her for over two months, but she understood. We spent a wild weekend together before I left, and I promised her an even crazier one once I was back.
Summer training was similar to the first time we went through it. Once again, I got separated from Bruno and Joe and never saw them again. I did see my friend from last year, Harlan, but he was assigned to a different training company. We only saw each other intermittently, but we had a pretty good friendship going.
A lot of what we did was similar, although compressed. We requalified with weapons, brushed up on our various skills and drills, and ran and marched some more. This time we didn't have to play war games in the dirt. We did, however, get introduced to the various branches of the army. Now we actually could see some artillery and tanks, paratroopers jumping from planes, and so forth. The idea was to give us enough info so that when we graduated we could make an intelligent choice about the branch of the service we ended up in.
Personally, I thought this was a stretch. From what I knew of my fellow cadets, 90% would have been happy getting a demonstration of a typewriter in a clean and dry office. The secretarial branch was their preferred branch of service!
I had been at Bragg for about a couple of weeks or so, when I was suddenly called out of class and summoned down to Lieutenant Colonel Brownell's office. The colonel was in charge of our class and that section of the school. For the life of me I couldn't figure out what was I had done wrong, but I went to his office and reported in. His orderly, a corporal, checked on the intercom and then ushered me inside. "SIR, OFFICER CANDIDATE BUCKMAN REPORTING AS ORDERED!"
"At ease, Buckman.", replied the colonel. There's at ease, and at ease. I wasn't an officer yet, so I snapped to parade rest instead. Colonel Brownell, surprised me by then ordering, "At ease, Cadet."
I lost my rigidity and looked at the colonel, and noticed that there was a telephone off the hook and laying on his desk. "Yes, sir?"
"There's been a phone call for you, Mr. Buckman.", he said, nodding towards the phone. "I'm going to step out of my office for a few minutes. Just open the door when you are done."
"Sir?" Who the hell would call me by tracking down my commanding officer!? Marilyn would write, and so would Suzie. Nobody else would call me.
The colonel stood up. "I'm stepping out. See me when you're done, Mister Buckman."
"Yes, sir."
The colonel moved around from his desk and went out the door, closing it behind him. I was tempted to sit down at his desk, but lightning bolts would probably descend and fry my ass out of sheer effrontery! I picked up the telephone and held it to my ear. "Officer Candidate Buckman."
"Carling, it's your father."
"Yes, sir. What's going on?"
"We need you to come home, Carl. It's your mother and your brother. There's been a problem.", he said.
"Sir?" What happened? I could care less about Hamilton, but if something had happened to Mom, I needed to know. Had they been in an accident?
Dad told me. It was a sordid tale indeed. Hamilton, in his desire to separate himself from me, had gone to college down south, at Georgia Tech in Atlanta. That hadn't worked out so well. Unlike most colleges, they worked on a trimester system. Way back when, on my first trip through, his first trimester his grades were as good as anything I had ever seen. His second trimester they dropped to my level. His third trimester they dropped through the floor and my father yanked him out of school. When that happened Dad tracked me down and told me to take a Friday off and we drove down for the weekend and packed him up and dragged him home.
Before, during that third trimester, he had disappeared for a week, completely dropping out of sight. Nobody could find him, not even the college or campus security, and then he surfaced and denied he had ever been missing. We never did find out where he was, if he was on a binge or if he was stoned somewhere or in the slammer or wherever, and he just denied being out of contact.
This time around it was far, far worse. He disappeared for almost two weeks, and when he resurfaced, was dragged down to the campus security office and questioned before they called Dad. Hamilton still wouldn't say where he had been, simply denying he had been missing, despite what the college was telling my father. Basic Hamilton behavior - lie and deny. Dad went down to drag him out. Much like before, Hamilton was sent to a shrink because of his bizarre behavior. Much like before, Mom was absolutely destroyed, crying her eyes out at the failure of her favorite son. Unlike before, Mom's depression was much more severe, probably because I wasn't around to take it out on, and she had a nervous breakdown.
This had been an ungodly disaster the first time around. Mom denied any hint of a problem, even denying he was seeing a psychiatrist, when we all knew he was visiting one. Dad and I had a long talk one day, when he asked me why I had gone to college. He had been heartbroken when I told him, quite bluntly, 'Because you told me I was going to college!" When he asked if that was the only reason, I turned it back on him and asked if I had had any kind of choice. For the first time I think he actually gave thought to his non-existent parenting skills.
It was worse now. Both Hamilton and Mom were spending time in the nut ward. I was tempted to ask Dad if they had adjoining rooms, but that would have been really pushing my luck. He wanted me to come home.
I just stared at the phone for a bit. "Dad, I'm in the Army. You know what that's like. I can't just drop everything and come home. I'm on duty!"
"It would be good for your mother and your brother. You should talk to their doctor.", he replied.
"Excuse me? They're in the nut house and you think I need to see the shrink? Whose idea is that? The doctor's or Mom's?" This was beyond ludicrous.
"Your mother seems to think it would help you understand your brother and better help him." I think even he thought this was a stretch, and it was all I could do not to laugh.