growing darkness, of dubious certainty, of nebulous meaning. In the thralls of this fade out, peering back into his darkened room, Jack felt a sudden, terrible loneliness.
Veronica, his girlfriend, would be coming to the apartment soon and that reassured him. But now, alone, he felt lost. He couldn’t wait for her to leave the school library where she worked. He thought of calling her and asking her to come home now but that seemed too extreme.
He thought of calling home and telling his parents about the Sanders Brown letter but couldn’t bring himself to do that. If he conveyed any hesitation about New York, he knew his parents would dismiss it. They’d say what he felt was just temporary and normal, call it post graduate jitters naturally setting in as he prepared to begin again. They’d definitely say any fear of his, if that’s what this hesitation was, was baseless. What, after all, did he have to be afraid of? Hadn’t he just graduated from Duke? Wasn’t that more proof of his exceptional nature, more proof that he’d be up to any challenge, handle any adjustment, his post college life might deliver?
Jack knew that’s how his parents would react. They couldn’t possibly understand the depths of his present loneliness. For it seemed, even to Jack, baseless. After all, Veronica, his girlfriend would remain his girlfriend even if he went to New York. So what was it? What was it but some overwhelming sense of finality, inexplicable in terms of his present situation?
He stood a long while in the fading light, clutching the letter in his hand. He looked at his packed duffel bag and felt a sudden urgency about getting away. He wanted to take Veronica that instant to Taylor Island. Moreover, he wanted to return to Durham after the 4th of July as he’d told Mr. Bellini he would. He felt paralyzed. Then he heard footsteps on the walkway leading up to the house his apartment was in.
He looked at his watch. He looked down to see Veronica about to come inside. His jaw stiffened, his hand tightened. In an impulse, he took the Sanders Brown letter with both hands and tore it up, and then threw it the trash. When Veronica came into the apartment and stood before him, he felt better. “Hello, V,” he said, looking at her like he hadn’t seen her for years. “I want us to leave tonight instead of tomorrow.”
Veronica gave a puzzled look. “What’s up?” she asked.
In the dim light of the room Veronica appeared like a dark outline of herself and Jack wanted to be able to look into her eyes. He turned on the lamps in the room. Now he could see into her eyes and it was like looking into the lake. He put his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him. “I missed you so much today,” he said softly.
Veronica returned his affection with a peck on his cheek. “You’re not telling me something,” she said. “Did something happen today? You seem preoccupied.”
Jack let go of her waist and took both her hands in his. He turned and gazed out the window at the now quiet street. “A couple of things happened,” he said.
“Well?” Veronica queried.
“I beat Dayton in the relay,” said Jack, smiling.
“That’s good,” Veronica grinned, “next?”
“Mr. Bellini offered me a job.” Jack pulled back from Veronica into attention, waiting for her reaction.
“Jack, that’s wonderful!” Veronica lit up in delighted surprise. “That means you’ll be staying in Durham, right?”
She hadn’t thought that would happen. Tears came into her eyes. “Jack,” she whispered.
Then as an afterthought, “But why should we leave tonight, everything seems to have turned out wonderfully. There’s nothing else, is there?”
Jack gazed at Veronica. He traced the outline of her face with his hand then placed his hand softly on her dark hair behind her neck and stroked it.
“Everything’s good, V, I just want to go away with you, and be with you, and show you things and can’t wait.”
“Okay.” Veronica sighed, relief and happiness both in her voice. “Okay, Jack.”
4
As a sophomore, Jack had been asked to escort entering freshmen around campus on their orientation day. He knew instinctively how to put the incoming freshmen at ease and liked being chosen for that. He could place himself in their shoes and anticipate what might interest or intimidate them. As a guide that day, in a friendly and effective way, he began their adjustment and made some friends doing it. It was always about making friends with Jack. One of the friends he made was Veronica.
Jack led his group of twenty-five freshmen to a hillside garden that displayed magnificent clusters of yellow roses. The roses spread around the garden in various beds of different sizes and shapes that interestingly complimented one another while accentuating the whole. Walking through the garden, it was impossible not to be pleased. The sheer number of roses presented such a powerful display of beauty that the freshmen were awed. It was a tangible treat-they smelled the sweetness of the roses and were dazzled by the odd and brilliant arrangements of them.
As a way of setting a tone for taking in all that was new to them, the garden walk worked marvelously. The new students forgot themselves amid the beauty Jack brought them to.
“These roses are unique and wonderful,” he’d pointed out. “They bloom the entire year. I come here when I’m fed up or overwhelmed. It’s far enough away from the rest of the campus so that I feel like I’m outside of myself and can get perspective and solace just knowing that, despite all that seems so monumental and insurmountable, these flowers still bloom.”
In the back of the group that day, anxiously listening, Veronica Cashmiris stood out. She was tall, slender, dark and lovely and Jack couldn’t help but notice her. She’d stood back, shyly, but clearly listening to Jack’s every word. He knew she was listening and had adjusted his talk to see if he could get her to smile. Eventually she did and he smiled back at her only to watch her look away in a nervous retreat from further eye contact, a slender finger on her demure hand twisting a strand of hair around and around. He continued talking calmly about school, his message resonating reassurance, his clear blue eyes fixed all the while on Veronica and at last her deep brown eyes warmly returned his gaze.
Veronica didn’t see Jack after that for several weeks. School took over. She was the first of her family to attend college and felt compelled to start out right. Caught up in the hectic pace of her first month, she’d been carried along by freshmen’s continuing obligations. Everything was unfamiliar and both exciting and intimidating. Things happened constantly that felt foreign and compelling. Veronica hoped for calm so that the fuzzy picture of her new world might come more clearly into view. For her, it was that groping time . . . that dumb beginning that takes you and, like an anesthetic, allows things to happen around you that you are only vaguely aware of. Then all of a sudden a month and a half had passed and midterms arrived, knocking loudly on her freshmen door with frightening prospect.
She stirred like a blender, she rushed toward midterms like a person running blindfolded down a city street. Churned up, hell-bent, fearful and determined, she felt a world away from being at ease. These were her first tests at Duke and she needed desperately to do well. It was not that she hadn’t studied or didn’t understand her courses. It was that she felt a burden as the first of her family to go to college. Also, she was worried that the grant she had been given by Duke might be reduced or eliminated if she didn’t prove herself worthy. Frazzled, she longed for a time out.
She remembered Jack. What was he doing? How did he handle it? And she recalled his talk at the garden.
He had mentioned swimming on the college team. She got up, dressed and headed to the Underwood Aquatic Center hoping to see him. It was as if Jack, because of his talk of solace, had become the solace he’d described. He wasn’t at the pool. She considered where he might be, those gardens.
She walked back past a row of sturdy Magnolias that with their waxy green leaves and bursting saffron flowers seemed a line of boutonnièred Generals, too sweet smelling to stand with such decorum in so grave a place.