Tom’s notorious jokes were indeed old. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. Prickem, Dickem, and Dunkem.”
Tom roared laughter. Wade shook his head.
“But seriously,” Tom went on. “It’s good you stopped by. I need to tell you about—”
“Jervis,” Wade finished.
“Yeah. You been up to the dorm already?”
“I just came from there. Jerv wrecked his entire room.”
Tom gave a grim nod. “I heard him trashing the place this morning, and throwing up. I tried to calm him down but the lunatic started throwing bottles at me. I guess he just flipped when it happened.”
“What?” Wade asked. “When what happened?”
Stone faced, Tom said, “Sarah dumped him.”
Wade slumped in place at the revelation.
“She dumped him right after the spring semester.”
Now Jervis’ destitution made sense, Jervis was far more impressionable than most; he was nuts about Sarah Black, head over heels in love. His whole life revolved around her; she was his life. “But I thought they were getting married,” Wade said.
“She’s getting married, all right. But not to Jerv. It’s some German guy she dumped him for.”
“A German guy?”
“Some kraut developer’s son, richer than shit. That’s all Jerv knows. And you’re probably thinking the same thing I’ve been thinking.”
“Yeah,” Wade verified. “That he might go right over the deep end, try to kill himself or something. Could he be capable of that?”
Tom’s laugh was stout and hearty. “Capable? You know how much he loves that smug bitch. This is the absolute worst thing that could happen to him. Right now he’s probably capable of just about anything.”
“Yeah, but suicide?”
Tom shrugged. “He’s got a gun.”
“What!” Wade exclaimed.
“Sure. He keeps it under his bed, some big old British revolver his grandpop gave him. I took the bullets out of it this morning when he was throwing up, and I swiped the rest of the ammo box.”
“Yeah, but he can always buy more. What are we going to do?”
“We’re gonna have to pull him out of this ourselves.”
“You’re right,” Wade said. “He’s got no one else.”
“I’ll meet you back at the dorm later,” Tom said. “We’ll clean him up and drag his ass down to the inn, get some food in him. He’s probably been living on Kirins since this whole thing went down.”
“Kirins and Carltons,” Wade added. “See you tonight.”
Wade took off in the Vette, cranking up an old Manzanera song called “Mummy Was an Asteroid, Daddy Was a Small Nonstick Kitchen Utensil.” Thank God for alternative radio; where would he be trapped in a world of bad rap and Madonna? He checked the rearview, then pitched his empty Spaten bottle into the Circle. With the campus this empty, at least he didn’t have to worry about getting pulled over.
Halfway through the Circle, he got pulled over.
That’s just fucking grand, he thought. But where had the cop been? They must have cloaking devices on their cruisers. Get ready, he primed himself. Wade wasn’t much of a student, but when it came to sweet talking police, he made straight A’s. He put on his innocent-face as the cop walked up, boot heels clicking.
“Good afternoon, Mr. St. John. My name is Officer Prentiss. I’d like to see your registration and operator’s permit.”
Astonished, Wade looked up. The cop was a woman. Girlfuzz, he thought. A dickless Tracy. “Who are you?” he asked.
“I just told you. I’m Officer Prentiss and I’d like to see your—”
“I know, my registration and operator’s permit.” Lenient cops asked for your license; but only hard asses called it an operator’s permit. This might take some work. “How come you know my name before seeing my li—I mean my operator’s permit?”
“I know all about you, Mr. St. John,” the cop said. “Chief White has properly familiarized me with all of the campus troublemakers.”
Wade laughed a chumly laugh. “Good old Chief White, always joking around. If you want to know the truth, my—”
“Your police file is the most extensive in the history of this campus.”
Wade paused. It was probably true. “Sure, Officer, I’ve had a ticket or two, but I’m no troublemaker, I assure you. And my father happens to be a significant contributor to the Exham Office of Donations, and is a close personal friend of the dean’s.”
“Which is the only reason you haven’t been kicked out.”
Wade paused again. This girl must work part time on a rock pile, he considered, and she’s using my balls for the rocks. Disgusted, he gave her the cards. He examined her as she began filling out his tickets. She stood well postured and medium-tall, very storm trooperish in her black boots and tailored tan uniform. Bright, straight blond hair was tied in back in a short tail, like a whip, and her eyes were a cold mystery behind mirrored shades. Wade supposed she would be cute if not for the inhuman police traffic stop set of her mouth. Her prettiness and her cop aura were a marriage of opposites: she invited to be looked at, yet revealed nothing to anyone who looked.
But there was something. Just…something.
“I’m citing you for doing thirty four miles an hour in a fifteen zone,” she told him.
“What, the Circle?”
“Yes, the Circle. And you get another one for depositing hazardous material on campus common ground.”
“What hazardous material!”
“The beer bottle you just threw.”
“Oh, you mean that Coke bottle?”
“It was a beer bottle, Mr. St. John, but of course you’re welcome to testify in court under oath that it was not. And since possessing an opened alcoholic beverage container in a moving vehicle is also against the law, you get a third citation.”
Wade was getting bombed worse than Pearl Harbor. All these tickets would cost three bills in fines and three more points, which his insurance wouldn’t tolerate.
Okay. B.S. time, he thought. He put on his best poor boy look, which probably was not very convincing while seated in a car that cost $75,000. “Officer Prentiss, I’m ashamed of myself. There’s no excuse for the thoughtless immaturity that I’ve demonstrated in your presence, and I humbly apologize. But the truth is, Officer, these tickets might cause my car insurance to be dropped, and that would make for some major trouble between me and my father. So I’m at your mercy. I’m going to ask that, in your generosity, you overlook these infractions, and in return you have my word and my personal guarantee that I will never violate the law on this campus ever again. My word.”
“I’ve heard better bullshit from Sterno drinkers,” she replied. She bruskly passed him the ticket book. “Sign, Mr. St. John.”
Wade was getting ticked. It wouldn’t kill this broad to give him a break. “What if I refuse to sign?” he dared ask.
“Then I will arrest you for ignoring a state summons.”
Wade laughed. “You wouldn’t dare. Maybe you don’t fully realize who I am. I’m Wade St. John. My father—”
“Sign the tickets or get out of the car,” Officer Prentiss said, then withdrew a shiny set of Peerless handcuffs.
Wade, boiling, signed the tickets. The cop tore off his copies and rather roughly stuffed them in his shirt pocket. “And if I ever see you throwing anything out of that car again,” she said, and smiled, “I’ll toss your rich boy behind in my jail in less time than it takes to say collegiate expulsion. Oh, and have a nice day.”
Officer Prentiss then drove off in her cruiser, leaving Wade slack mouthed. Have a nice day? he thought. Baby, they don’t get any nicer than this.