when everybody’s already sitting,” I said, and shoved another handful of booster-club popcorn into my mouth.
The October air was cold and sharp, and seeing her chin tremble in a shiver, I leaned into her, warming her.
“You better cut that out or that bull of yours is going to charge up the stands after me.”
“Funny,” I said, looking down at Shannon, who was pawing at the ground with her leg as Kristi brandished an invisible red cape.
“The Bulls are gonna hit, the bulls are gonna gore,” screamed the cheerleaders, “and then the Bulls are gonna get out there and score, score, score O-lee, O-lee, O-lee Bull!”
“So how long have you and Wes been going out?” I asked, and from my tone of voice you would have thought I’d asked her how long she’d been dating Spiro Agnew.
Darva laughed. “What do you care?”
I shoved another handful of popcorn into my mouth, trying to think of a reasonable answer.
When I couldn’t think of one, I swallowed and said, “I’m who set off the fire alarm.”
“What?”
I shushed her, letting her know I didn’t think it was necessary that the kids in front of us hear my private confession.
She looked at me for a long moment, hooking behind her ear a strand of hair the wind had blown across her face. A play on the field caused some attention from the stands, but we ignored it.
“Why?” she finally said. “Why’d you blow a chance for us to do
something
?”
“Give me a break, Darva. It’s not like four kids sitting down during the middle of a pep rally was going to change the world or anything.”
“And doing nothing is?”
“It just seemed so…I don’t know, so high school.”
“So it wasn’t a march on Washington,” said Darva, her voice a cold, fast whisper. “We’ve got to work where we’re at.”
“Pithy slogan. Did that guy Wes teach it to you?”
Darva smiled at me as if she didn’t immediately understand what I said and wanted to be polite until she did.
“Excuse me,” she said finally, and as she stood up I leaned back to let her pass. I stayed sitting like that for a long time, too disgusted with myself, with everything, to follow her through the crowd, which collectively moaned as the Polar Bears scored another touchdown.
Four
----
From the
Ole Bulletin,
November
1971:
Barring some unforseen reescalation, it looks as if the Class of ’ 72 is not going to be drafted to Viet Nam. That is, the Bulls aren’t going, but what about the Cows? In this age of equality, what are women’s obligations during war time? Your Roving Reporter thought he’d find out by asking, “Should women be drafted?”
Donna Shelton, junior:
“I’d go in a second—I mean, how hard would it be to be surrounded by cute young guys in uniform?”
Mrs. Wanda Meegan, English teacher:
“I would move to Canada if they initiated a draft for girls; of course, I would move to Canada if I were a boy and was drafted. You’d think we would have figured out by now that war creates more problems than it solves and that we do not achieve peace through strength. We achieve peace through peace. Drafting women would be an abomination, but it’s my opinion that drafting men is an abomination too.”
Sean Knutsen, sophomore:
“No way! What kind of war could we win if girls were fighting alongside us? It’s like these girls who think they should be able to play basketball or baseball with the guys—what are they, nuts? They can’t throw for *$!*—they probably couldn’t even lift a gun, let alone shoot it!”
Charlie Olsen, senior:
“Bring ’em on! I wouldn’t mind being in a foxhole with a bunch of foxes! I’m all for making love, not war, but if girls were let into the army, I could do both things at the same time….”
----
Hockey was a big sport at Ole Bull High, and it is not an overstatement to say that after scoring twice and assisting the game-winning goal during my first game, my life changed.
Kids I didn’t know congratulated me in
The October air was cold and sharp, and seeing her chin tremble in a shiver, I leaned into her, warming her.
“You better cut that out or that bull of yours is going to charge up the stands after me.”
“Funny,” I said, looking down at Shannon, who was pawing at the ground with her leg as Kristi brandished an invisible red cape.
“The Bulls are gonna hit, the bulls are gonna gore,” screamed the cheerleaders, “and then the Bulls are gonna get out there and score, score, score O-lee, O-lee, O-lee Bull!”
“So how long have you and Wes been going out?” I asked, and from my tone of voice you would have thought I’d asked her how long she’d been dating Spiro Agnew.
Darva laughed. “What do you care?”
I shoved another handful of popcorn into my mouth, trying to think of a reasonable answer.
When I couldn’t think of one, I swallowed and said, “I’m who set off the fire alarm.”
“What?”
I shushed her, letting her know I didn’t think it was necessary that the kids in front of us hear my private confession.
She looked at me for a long moment, hooking behind her ear a strand of hair the wind had blown across her face. A play on the field caused some attention from the stands, but we ignored it.
“Why?” she finally said. “Why’d you blow a chance for us to do
something
?”
“Give me a break, Darva. It’s not like four kids sitting down during the middle of a pep rally was going to change the world or anything.”
“And doing nothing is?”
“It just seemed so…I don’t know, so high school.”
“So it wasn’t a march on Washington,” said Darva, her voice a cold, fast whisper. “We’ve got to work where we’re at.”
“Pithy slogan. Did that guy Wes teach it to you?”
Darva smiled at me as if she didn’t immediately understand what I said and wanted to be polite until she did.
“Excuse me,” she said finally, and as she stood up I leaned back to let her pass. I stayed sitting like that for a long time, too disgusted with myself, with everything, to follow her through the crowd, which collectively moaned as the Polar Bears scored another touchdown.
Four
----
From the
Ole Bulletin,
November
1971:
Barring some unforseen reescalation, it looks as if the Class of ’ 72 is not going to be drafted to Viet Nam. That is, the Bulls aren’t going, but what about the Cows? In this age of equality, what are women’s obligations during war time? Your Roving Reporter thought he’d find out by asking, “Should women be drafted?”
Donna Shelton, junior:
“I’d go in a second—I mean, how hard would it be to be surrounded by cute young guys in uniform?”
Mrs. Wanda Meegan, English teacher:
“I would move to Canada if they initiated a draft for girls; of course, I would move to Canada if I were a boy and was drafted. You’d think we would have figured out by now that war creates more problems than it solves and that we do not achieve peace through strength. We achieve peace through peace. Drafting women would be an abomination, but it’s my opinion that drafting men is an abomination too.”
Sean Knutsen, sophomore:
“No way! What kind of war could we win if girls were fighting alongside us? It’s like these girls who think they should be able to play basketball or baseball with the guys—what are they, nuts? They can’t throw for *$!*—they probably couldn’t even lift a gun, let alone shoot it!”
Charlie Olsen, senior:
“Bring ’em on! I wouldn’t mind being in a foxhole with a bunch of foxes! I’m all for making love, not war, but if girls were let into the army, I could do both things at the same time….”
----
Hockey was a big sport at Ole Bull High, and it is not an overstatement to say that after scoring twice and assisting the game-winning goal during my first game, my life changed.
Kids I didn’t know congratulated me in
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