Sorry that it took me so long to post this. I had it typed up a long time ago--as in May--it just needed a little polishing before I could publish it. After some gentle reminders (or constant threats) from Janelle, I've decided to pick up blogging again. I apologize to those who have been waiting for more. Happy reading!
TALE TWO:
So, after leaving Gondola, Ariel took me back to the apartment so I could finish up my paper. The last paper—the end seemed so near, and yet I still had so much to type: 10 pages, that is. I know it’s not that long, but when the end of the semester is right within reach, it seems more like 100 pages. Unfortunately, I underestimated exactly how long it would take me to say everything that I needed and wanted to say in my paper.
I typed as fast as my fingers and greatly fatigued brain would allow. I suppose my brain was beginning to look more and more like the deteriorating, nearly-lobotomized green foam brain we use to attack Buck with.
I finished my paper at 4:52 pm, exactly eight minutes before it was due. I rushed to print my paper and change out of my lounge clothes. By the time I ran out of the apartment, it was already 5:02 pm—I was late already.
I should have known that the sudden rain, flashing lighting, and rolling thunder outside my window were foreshadowing disaster ahead. And when it rains, it pours. I used to think that was really defeatist. But I believe it more than ever. Murphy’s law, you know?
I headed down the stairs, through the little covered walkway, and out to the garage. Halfway down the stairs, I had pushed my remote control to open the garage, so I was expecting the garage door to be opened already. I was mortified to find that the garage door had never opened, because it was blocked by a car parked insolently in front of it.
A thousand different panicked thoughts struck me at once. The car had no driver, and no apparent owner nearby whose ears I could box (I’ve always wanted to box someone’s ears, whatever that means). I needed to get to campus.
So I ran. I ran as quickly as I could under the circumstances. I ran through the rain. I ran through every single puddle. And anyone who knows me well knows I hate—absolutely hate—puddles. Of all shapes and sizes. We all have our prejudices.
By the time I reached the English office, I was 15 minutes and soaked to the bone. What a sight I must have been, running by myself in the rain. And of course, the only thing worse than running through puddles is the water creeping up from the bottom of your pants because you chose to run through puddles instead of going around them like normal people.
I stopped at the English office, breathless and ready to cry, when Kathy stepped out of her office. I walked up to Dr. Smith’s office and noticed that his door was closed.
“Is Dr. Smith here still?”
“Uh…are you here to turn in a paper?”
“Yeah.”
“He left a long time ago…almost four.”
I caught my break as I sucked in, thinking I had completely missed my deadline.
“But you aren’t late. He left a box here,” Kathy continued, “and he probably won’t be back to pick the papers up until Saturday. So you’re good.”
It was so anticlimactic that I nearly started crying right then and there. I managed to make a little bit of small talk with Kathy, then said goodbye and called Ariel. No, she informed me, the car hadn’t moved yet, so she couldn’t come to pick me up. Ok, I thought, I’m already soaked, might as well walk back through the rain.
As I made my way back through campus, I thought of how silly it all way. How silly and pointless. He wouldn’t pick them up until Saturday. I didn’t have to go through all of that. But the paper’s done, I told myself. You’re done with the semester, Lynnette. DONE. DONE. DONE.
I reveled in that thought for awhile. I wiped the water off my face. It was useless; the rain was coming down lightly, but steadily. For a second it reminded me of an Asian drama. Only there’s no boy running through the rain desperately trying to find me, passing by me at the exact moment I turn away, then finding me and…well, you know how it ends.
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