The Humira came in pen form, pinch up some thigh flesh and click the needle down. Skin prick not bad, but the medication stung upon acclimation into my bloodstream, then slowly faded into the bruising feel of being bumped on the soccer pitch, slight itch, then weariness. About a month after the initial quadruple dose, my stomach started to improve. Thinking that I might back out at the last second because of my health, I had put off packing for college. As the day approached, I felt close to healthy, though my stamina wasn’t back to where it needed to be if I was going to play soccer. Seeing that I was overwhelmed the day before, my sister helped me pack.
“I’m going to put all of your t-shirts, socks and underwear in your soccer duffel, okay?”
“Thanks, did you see my cleats in there?”
“No, I think you left them up on the sports box. Are you going to play for the soccer team?”
“I wish. They all showed up a month before school and started practicing together, and their first game is in two weeks. My stomach’s better but the medicine makes me tired and I don’t want to stress my system. Next year I’ll play, probably wouldn’t get a lot of playtime as a freshman anyway. What about you, are you gonna play for high school?”
“I’m gonna try out, even though I think it’s going to be mostly boys, girls are allowed to play, title nine.”
“You’ll be better than most of the boys anyway, they’re not on travel teams that practice three times a week.”
“Yeah, I’ll be in better shape but seniors in high school are so much bigger than freshmen.”
“The physicality will probably help in your games for Gotham Girls, and by the time you’re a senior you’ll be the captain.”
“Ha. Are you going to bring your ball?”
“Yeah, I’ll just throw it in the trunk tomorrow.”
“And your Frisbee for the quad!”
The next morning, we crampacked the car with my things for college, and a travel bag each for father and sister as they were going to visit his relatives further west after dropping me off. He had escaped withering industry and conservative values with his pragmatic art, drawing pictures while stepdad drank at the bar, developing the skills he would eventually use to draw the dimensions of buildings that update the blueprint of mid-century modernism with innovations in energy efficiency, and which allowed him to live and thrive in New York City.
We drove over Brooklyn’s suspension, across downtown Manhattan, through the Holland tunnel, past the gas stations and into traffic. As we drove westward, the grid city’s sprawling concrete slowly crumbled streetlight by streetlight until all that was left was a paved path through the trees, pick up speed, dashes blur to solid lines, parallel in reflective white and yellow to contrast tar, sun gains intensity having shed the tall wall shadows of the city, endless skyway, at the end of the Garden State we passed through the Delaware Water Gap and into Penn’s Appalachia, Steve Earle’s Transcendental Blues on the CD player: One of these days when my mind’s made up, and I’m sick and tired of hangin’ around… “Can you get the radar detector out of the glove department?” Plugged into the cigarette lighter and placed on the dashboard beebeep, “thank you ma’am,” from sister in the backseat when our stomachs flop over the hills that begin to roll and gain size in the Pocono game land and recreation for urban middle-class refuge and reprieve Halfway there when the rain came down… further west through the ridges with broccoli trees and valleys with farm fields in center state, eventually exiting the highway with one last mountain to drive up and over. Motor chugged the incline up to scenic bypass where the happy valley opens up like god’s country, inspiration for a great awakening, fields of grain and hillsides of orchards, merry green land turned into exuberance by the light. We parked the car for a moment to enjoy the sunsetting beyond the western mountains, before getting back into the car and rolling down, riding the breaks until the ground leveled out for gardens and meadows as prairie homes speckled and began to cluster as we approached town, and we finally trundled past the college soccer field and onto campus.
Cars unloading in back of dorms, I got out and walked with forced confidence through the doors of the red brick, gray shingled building. The Resident Director’s room was just beyond the entrance. I knocked on the door which was opened quickly by a wiry athlete, looks like a basketball player.
“Hey there, are you living in Sherwood this semester?”
“Sure am, room 117, here’s the slip they sent me.”
“Great, your roommate Paul already checked in, here’s a key and some paperwork for you, and here’s a Residence Agreement Contract for you to sign after you’ve read the list of rules and regulations. We’ll have a dorm meeting tomorrow evening at 5 p.m. in the lounge where everyone can introduce themselves and I can answer any questions or problems and I’ll collect the signed agreements then. You’re just down the hallway on the right. Nice to meet you!”
I walked down the hallway to my room and opened the door, expecting to find my roommate, but just found his stuff already hung and spread through half of the cinder-gray room which was lightened by pale wood dressers with a mirror on the left, and windows on the far side which his desk was placed against. I went back out to the car to help father and sister bring my bags in.
“Small room,” said father, “and your roommate took the window I see. You can talk to him about rearrangement. You guys could bunk your beds for more space.” He stretched to poke at the ceiling, “Hmm, cheap mineral fiber ceiling tiles. God it’s stuffy in here, no air conditioning, huh?”
“I brought a small fan.”
“I guess that’ll do, put it by the window. This is what you get freshman year, they’re encouraging you to spend time outside your room.”
I felt flutters in my stomach as I sat down on my mattress, knees quivering like an uprooted plant in the wind. Control yourself.
“It’s better than the open cabins at camp,” said sister as she got out my sheets, “let’s make your bed.”
“Okay.” Up from mattress, knees still shaking, sit on my complementary dorm chair, hardwood with curved back legs, rock back and forth looking down at the ground, solid tile, deep breaths, swallow. I sat still as sister made my bed and father carried my crates in from the car. Collected myself, I got up and put some clothes in drawers.
“It almost looks like my space now, thanks guys.”
“Yep, you’re good to go, not a whole lot to set up. Let’s get some dinner. Maybe the Yankee game is on at the bar.”
We drove down to the sports bar across from an old factory, birds sitting in a row along a telephone line. Vinyl paneling with neon bud lights, seated by a gruff hostess, Phillies on televisions above Pennant state memorabilia, portraits of Joe Paternal.
“Can’t go wrong with an appetizer of wings at a Pennsylvanian sports bar,” said father. Spicy deep fried might upset my stomach, proceed with caution, might get too hot, melting wax and feathers, fall from flight, back to Brooklyn.
“As long as they’re not too spicy.”
Twenty-something with extended eyelashes in a referee jersey walked up to our table, “Hey guys, how yins doing tonight? I’m Shannon, I’ll be your waitress.”
“We’re great, just settled in up at the college. Do you guys get a lot of business from the factory workers?” father asked.
“Well they used to be our main business, their glass machine’s been running since World War two, that’s why the bar’s here, but the company’s been down sizin’, sending jobs to China, so we’ve started to cater to the college with karaoke night and stuff.”
“Same old story. Well, you have a sports-loving freshman right here, and he’ll come back if the burgers are good.”
“We’ll be here, can I start you guys with something to drink?”
“I’ll have a Yuengling, and you can also start us off with an order of wings.”
“Just a water for me,” I said.
“I’ll have a Shirley temple,” said sister.
“I’ll be right back with those.”
“Well this’ll be an interesting experience for you, city boy in the middle of nowhere. Your perspective will be unique out here, it’s important for them to hear, but don’t be smug about it or you’ll alienate yourself.”
“I know, I’ve heard your political discussions with your cousins.”
“Yeah but rehashing old arguments among family and introducing yourself to new people are different things.”
“It’s a liberal arts college, we’re supposed to discuss and debate.”
“Well, I’m just saying mind your tone with the good ol’ boys, using a little twang with them won’t hurt none,”
“They’re college students, not rednecks, and besides I can always talk sports.”
“That’s true, I’m sure you’ll be fine, just sayin’ you’re not in Kansas anymore.”
The waitress came back with our drinks, “Alright, yins know what yer havin’?”
“I’ll have a Pittsburgher, medium rare.”
“Lettuce onion tomato?”
“Yes, and some sliced pickle if you’ve got ’em.”
“Sure do. And for you miss?”
“I”ll have a Cobb salad,” said sister.
“And you?”
“I’ll also have a Pittsburgher,” I said.
“Same as his?”
“Yes, please.”
“Alright, we’ll red ‘em up for ya,” she smiled and walked back to the kitchen.
“So we’re gonna head out and see the cousins tomorrow, stop at a couple of modular factories along the way that I might do some work with, and then we’ll head back to New York, and I was thinking about stopping back through on our way to break up the driving, but now I’m thinking maybe we should just let you get acclimated. The way I remember it is that the first few weeks everyone is meeting each other and there’s lots of partying.”
“I didn’t leave the city to come out here for the party scene, but I’ll be fine either way. What are these modular factories you’re gonna stop at?”
“So it turns out there are actually a bunch of companies that make wood modular houses out near Ridgway, so I’m gonna check them out and see who’s got the best operation. You know, when I was a kid a lot of the economy had come from the lumber industry and all the hills were shaved bald of their trees, and wildfires would spread and leave us with a landscape of stumps and ashes. Now, thanks to conservation efforts we have our trees back, and these modular factories are more efficient with their resource usage than typical construction methods, so they make a lot of sense.”
“That would have changed the ecosystem a lot, animals need trees for shelter too,” said sister.
“That’s true, the industrial revolution really threw us out of whack with the environment, we’re still trying to regain our balance. Fortunately, we realized that we appreciate our foliage. I think I’ll try to come back out in October. I’ve been working on this motorcycle at the garage that I designed to be an adventure bike so that I can take it out on the open road, bend through some farmland where the roads weave from barn to barn without any traffic. I’m hoping to finish it up in a month or so and then I’ll have to take it for a spin, so I was thinking I’ll come out here. I don’t wanna go too far in case there are hiccups, and nothing beats Pennsylvanian countryside in the fall.”
Dadelus. “Yeah, I’ll be ready for a visit by then I’m sure.”
“And if you’re not feeling well, just let me know and I’ll come out and get ya.”
After our grease n’ gristle, dad dropped me off at my new home. Fireflies flitting white-fire above the hedge, welcome light.
“Alright, hope you have a first good night in the dorm. We’ll come pick you up for some breakfast in the morning after we check out of the motel.”
“Alright, good night guys, thanks for everything.”
“You bet.”
I walked into my dorm and began unpacking the rest of my boxes. Books on the shelf, milk crate under bed, plug in laptop on desk and set up printer. I sat on my bed and looked around at the white room, small cell for two people. First night trying to sleep in a new place is always strange. Footsteps down the hall, handle turned and door opened, “Hey, I’m Paul.”
– – –