By What is Sure to Follow Page 4

  Attending San Diego State College was part of the lifestyle. In many ways it was responsible for all the parties and all the women. Luke was a Junior and was somewhere between a liberal arts major and a physical education major. He really excelled at gymnastics, but liberal arts classes were where the women were. Once he figured that out, he became a serious liberal arts student. He took classes in everything from eastern logic to social norms in early America. And it always paid off big for him: he was invited to more parties than he could attend. It seemed like he would never get bored with the life style.

  He found the down side of being a student was having to pass the courses. Preparing papers and studying for exams took much of the time away from partying. Luckily, he found early on that his women friends were willing to share their knowledge of the courses they were in together. He really didn’t have to rely on them much though. His GPA reflected his mental outlook: 2.I overall. He found that he could maintain that without too much effort. After all, all that was required to stay off of probation was a 2.0 average. With nearly three years of college under his belt, one class couldn’t really change his average that much.

  One of the main problems he faced was because he took classes based on the number of ladies in it and how easy it was, he was a good two years away from graduating–which was ok with him. He knew in the end he would get his degree. It was important to get it; it didn’t, however, matter exactly when he got it.

  The longer he stayed in college the better; after all, his parents were paying most of the bill. Besides, he looked forward to each fall when a whole new batch of ladies would show up on campus and then his faith, so to speak, was reborn. It was the great life and he lived it to the fullest.

  Luke found the fast pace and new faces of campus life to his liking. There was always something going on. Every social event or activity was just another way of mixing up the pot of men and women and bringing them together again. Most of the time he had three or more women he was seeing, although some of them he didn’t see for long periods. Sometimes he’d bump into one of his favorite ladies at a party and then start spending a good deal of time together with her for the next couple of weeks.

  “He strung me along, used me. Oh, he told me he loved me, and I believed him. I loved him. I really did. We even set a wedding date! Can you believe it?” Tears now ran freely down her face.

  Life was easier that way. He just let the tide carry him, from day to day, party to party, from woman to woman. The women seemed responsive to him that way and he felt no deep commitments. He always avoided ladies who looked like they might want to get serious. He was not about to get captured by one of them. As a result, he had many friends, but no close friends. Even though he moved in and out of many social circles, he was always welcome back again; it was a great life.

  Luke thought it was astounding how many people were actively attending these parties. After a while, he got to know a few of the guys too. That was where he met John and Carl. He kept seeing them at different parties.

  Over time they began acknowledging each other and then they would talk. They had a lot in common, so on different occasions they would waste time together–shooting pool or just sitting around talking cars or women. When they would see each other on campus they would say “hi” and keep each other informed on upcoming parties.

  It was at one of these parties where Luke met Sheri. Her sorority crashed a bachelor party he was attending. It was about midnight when he literally bumped into her coming out of the restroom. “Excuse me,” he said without looking up.

  “That’s okay,” she said automatically as she looked at Luke with a glance.

  It was then that he looked up. What he saw he liked. “Hi, I’m Luke.”

  “Hello, Luke. I’m Sheri. Sheri Norten.”

  “Nice to meet you, Sheri. Can I get you a drink?” He felt the need to say more to the attractive woman in front of him.

  Pausing while she looked him over, Sheri slowly replied. “Y-E- S...rosé wine will be fine.” She followed him out into the front room and then waited while he worked his way through the throng of people gathered around the refreshments and back again.

  “I haven’t seen you before.” Luke smiled broadly as he spoke. In his eyes Sheri could see the friendly twinkle that made him so attractive when combined with his good looks.

  “Oh, I don’t party as hard as my sisters do. I don’t like in the sorority house like most of them. So I miss some of the parties. I like to party, but don’t have much time for it. School work, you know.”

  “Yeah. I know what you mean. I try not to let school work interfere with the parties though.” They both laughed. Luke felt strangely relaxed and instantly connected with her. Finding an out of the way spot, they sat and began to talk. They talked of school and current events at first and then the conversation turned to more personal topics.

  “So many of the guys try to put the make on me at parties. It just takes all the fun out of going,” Sheri confided. “Why can’t guys just be friends?” There was sadness in her voice.

  “I don’t know,” Luke replied. “I guess at times we’re just jerks.” Luke was beginning to admire the woman next to him. “Sometimes I feel the same way you do. The moment I meet a girl, and we end up liking each other, she immediately wants to get serious. Then I feel bad because I don’t want that deep a relationship. That’s the bad part. Why can’t people just be friends?”

  “I guess because we’re all looking for Mr. or Mrs. Right.”

  With a slight nod, he leaned over and tenderly kissed her on the cheek. “You looked like you needed that.”

  “I don’t know. I mean sure, everyone needs a friend. I just don’t want the rest of it right now,” Sheri said as she looked at the wine glass in her hand.

  “I know what you mean. I’m just looking for a friend. That’s all.” Luke paused and then said, “Will you be my friend?”

  “We can try, but I make no promises. Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” he said. They sat silently a while, watching the people around them.

  It was Sheri who spoke first. “I was engaged up until about three months ago.” Luke remained silent. “He strung me along. He used me.” Over the lyrics of “Peggy Sue” filtering through the crowd of people out on the dance floor, Sheri continued. She paused often as she spoke. “As the wedding date came closer and closer, he became less and less responsive. You know, not returning my phone calls. When we were together all he wanted to do was hop into bed– no talking at all. When I tried to talk, he’d make an excuse and leave. It had all been a ploy to get into my pants and nothing more,” she said sadly. Luke thought he could see her trembling, just so slightly. She suddenly looked very frail to Luke. Quickly she looked away and wiped away the new tears that ran down her face. They sat in silence for several minutes while Sheri regained her composure. Luke keenly studied his empty glass the whole time.

  “What finally happened,” Luke almost whispered, his eyes studying her closely once again.

  “When he refused to talk about the wedding plans, I was destroyed. I didn’t know what to do.” Though she was speaking in a whisper, her voice got shriller. “My parents kept pushing me for answers and I had none.”

  Luke noticed that she was gaining strength as she told her story. Fire blazed in her eyes when she finally spoke. “Finally one day he told me it was over–only two weeks before the wedding. I think my parents knew long before I did.”

  “What did they say?”

  “My Mom, she does the talking in our family, she said everything would work out in time. That was three months ago. I’m beginning to believe she was right.” A momentary wisp of a smile crossed her face, and then she looked away, fondling the nearly empty wine glass she held in her hands.

  “Sounds like you’ve got a nice mother.”

  “She’s always there when I need her.” The look on her face told Luke that that wasn’t enough.

  Changing the subject, Luke quietly said, “I
don’t lie about my desires. Some people may not like me for it, but at least I’m not deceitful about it. I like sex. I don’t deny it. I dream of making love to beautiful women. But,” he said completing the thought as he stared straight ahead, “I am direct and up-front about it.”

  Luke saw a slight nod of agreement from Sheri out of the corner of his eye. It was then that he turned and faced her directly. He reached over and took her hands and held them gently. “Like right now,” he said warmly. “I want to take you home and give you some tender loving...with no strings attached.”

  Sheri searched his face slowly and saw that he meant what he said. Hesitating briefly, she nodded her approval. Minutes later they were on their way to his apartment. It was the start of a beautiful relationship. It turned out to be the longest running friendship Luke had ever had, lasting nearly a year.

  ****

  Waking up in Sheri’s bed was not at all unusual, but waking up at 6:00 a.m. after a night of sex with her was. That was what happened on the Monday Luke prepared to go to the recruiter’s office. His eyes popped open and at first he didn’t know why. He didn’t awaken with a startle, so he just lay there while his mind began to function. Looking at the clock, he remembered setting the alarm clock for 7:00 a.m. It was now 6:02 a.m. Next to him Sheri slept peacefully. He didn’t tell her anything about the draft notice or his thoughts on it–so she was not aware of his dilemma. A slight smile adorned her face.

  Almost always when he slept over at her house, he woke up with a terrific hard-on, and when that happened he didn’t let it go to waste. He couldn’t remember the last time he didn’t wake up that way with her. Today was an exception. Laying there, thinking about her didn’t arouse him so he got out of bed. He went in her bathroom, relieved himself and turned on the shower and waited for it to warm up. As he started to pull back the shower curtain, he felt Sheri’s warm hands circling his chest, and her warm, soft body press against his back. He smiled to himself. It felt great.

  “Good morning. Do you know what time it is?” she said, shuddering as she spoke.

  “Good morning. Yeah. It’s early, a little after six.” He then pulled the shower curtain to the side and stepped in. She followed, her arms still encircling him.

  As the water began to awaken him, he felt her hands moving down his chest, moving in slow circular motions and ending up on his now very hard erection. Without a word being said by either of them, he turned off the water and carried her to the bed, still dripping as he laid her down. For the next half hour they made love, but it was more physical than usual. Whereas they normally tried to bring as much delight to each other as possible, today was different. He wasn’t considering Sheri really. Usually hours were spent trying to satisfy each other. Today he was done in a fraction of that time. As they both lay covered only with the sheet, she said, “Is something bothering you?” The tone of her voice sounded hurt.

  “I have a problem.” Without telling her more detail, he said, “I hope to have it solved today.” In a clipped sentence he added “I’m not the best company right now.” He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, and then got up and began dressing, not bothering to shower again.

  “Do you want breakfast,” she offered, now sitting up in bed, watching him closely as he put on his wind-breaker and walked to the door.

  “No, maybe later. Go back to sleep. I’ll call you later in the day, maybe by that time I’ll be in a better frame of mind.” Then he was out the door.

  It was first light when he walked down the sidewalk to his car. He still had a couple of hours until the recruiting office opened.

  He drove down to the beach, one of his favorite thinking spots. Traffic was light at that hour, resulting in a little over fifteen minute drive. Parking the car near Mission Beach pier, he noticed a street sweeper truck methodically making its way down one of the narrow one-way side streets, swerving to miss parked cars. No other activity could be seen as he got out of his car and walked down the wooden steps to the beach.

  A fog bank hung just offshore. Typical for this time of year. It made stark contrast with the brightening, clear sunrise occurring to the east. Everything was peaceful, beautiful, as it always was when he came down here this time of morning. It was his favorite time of day even though he often missed it. His light windbreaker jacket kept the slight breeze from giving him a chill as he began to walk south, making foot prints in the wet sand.

  He felt really confused, yet he felt strangely calm–almost as though his life was moving in slow motion towards some inescapable outcome, an outcome he not yet understood or accepted. Part of him was sad about what the draft notice meant, and another part fully accepted it with excitement, eager for the challenge. As he walked down the beach, watching an occasional jogger grow larger and larger as he or she approached him from the south and then pass heading north. His mind cleared and he decided to approach the draft notice as an invitation to an adventure–what else could he do? He hated leaving his carefree life style of a college student, but he realized he no longer controlled his life.

  A glance at his watch told him it was time to be heading back. It was then that he noticed how far he had come; he was almost to the jetty at Ocean Beach, a good two and a half miles from where he began. He started a slow jog back. Before long he was sitting behind the wheel of his car, ready to go find the recruiting office.

  He remembered that it was up in Clairemont, not too far away. When he finally found it nestled in a small strip shopping center, the time was 8:25 a.m. Another thirty-five minutes to kill. Next to the shopping center was a coffee shop. He went in and sat at the counter.

  “What’ll it be?” said the middle-aged woman in her tight fitting, light-blue waitress uniform as she stood behind the worn counter.

  “I’ll have a black coffee, please.”

  “Comin’ right up. One black coffee.” Then she moved off.

  Luke noticed a small, black and white TV set hung high in a back corner. From where he sat, he could see the morning news was on. He didn’t pay any attention as the local news droned. Instead he nursed his coffee, sipping it slowly to make it last. He seldom read the paper or watched TV. When the news mentioned Vietnam, he found his eyes riveted to the set. “The conflict in Vietnam continues to escalate, Pentagon sources announced yesterday. President Johnson has signed an order committing more troops to the fighting. The number of troops being sent will be increased by fifty thousand per month. By month end the total will exceed 200,000.” The station then showed newsreel footage of combat troops firing their weapons towards a tropical jungle. Not much footage really, but still very frightening to Luke. The news turned to domestic issues and Luke lost interest.

  Luke nodded to the waitress as she approached and accepted another refill. He then sat drinking it until five minutes before nine, ignoring the comings and goings of customers in the popular cafe. Then, quickly paying the waitress after glancing at his watch, he began the short walk across the parking lot to the recruiter’s office. As he approached the door, a uniformed man unlocked the all glass door from the inside.

  As he entered, Luke saw four desks: one for each of the services. Not knowing the dress uniforms that each serviceman wore, he was forced to read the plaques on each desk. Passing by the Army and Navy desks, he stopped at the one with a Marine poster next to it. Seated like a brick of granite, reading the morning paper, was what he thought must be a career Marine. He had the stereotypical square jaw, rigid posture and close-cropped hair. Luke knew enough from movies to know that he was a sergeant, beyond that he knew nothing.

  The Marine looked up at Luke from the morning paper and said, “Can I be of any help, sir?”

  With that Luke reached in the pocket of his wind breaker, took out his draft notice and silently handed it to the Marine. After the Marine read it, Luke said, “Can you help me?”

  “Sit down, sir,” said the sergeant as he motioned to the single chair next to his desk. The Marine looked at the paper briefly again a
nd said, “That depends on what you want me to do.”

  Luke replied nervously, “I’d rather be in the Marines with some say so as to what I’ll be doing than be drafted into the Army with no say so.”

  The sergeant laughed and began to ask him questions, trying to figure out who was sitting in front of him. “Are you a student?”

  “Yes I am. I’m a Junior at SDSC.”

  The Marine then reached in his desk drawer and took out a form. “What is your name?”

  “Luke Marion Sims.”

  “Age and date of birth?”

  “Twenty-one. November 24, 1945,” fired back Luke.

  The questions continued until the Marine’s form was complete. Studying the document for a long moment, the Marine finally looked up and said, “I can save you from the Army.” A mischievous smile escaped his somewhat serious face as he said it. Luke noticed. “I assume that you have personal matters that might take some time to get in order.”

  Luke nodded, but otherwise sat quietly, unsure what came next. The sergeant smiled again, bigger this time, and said, “I can help with that too.”

  “First, I need you to take a test. Take this and go in the next room. You’ll find pencils in there. Any questions?”

  “Not now, maybe later,” replied Luke as he took the material and turned towards the small room.

  “You’ve got ninety minutes to complete that,” said the Marine as Luke disappeared through the door. As Luke exited, the Marine adjusted a small black clock and set it to one side.

  Finishing early, Luke sat back in front of the sergeant’s desk while the Marine looked over the results of the test. Then the sergeant sat erect and looked Luke straight in the eye; his pencil tapped the wooden desk as he studied Luke closely. Luke stirred, awaiting the verdict. “You’re Marine material all right...maybe even officer material.” Without any big to do or ceremony he said, “Please sign both sheets here.”