Friday, August 10, 2012

The Case of the Two Gay Roommates Part XI: The one with the status




The argument that we had about the empty bottle of soda was the last time either of us said a word to the other. Unless you count the time, I walked in the front door and accidentally pinned him behind it. I said, “My bad,” I guess technically that was the last time I ever spoke to him. Everything was going well though. John, Laura, Morgan, and I were closer than ever following Zach and Molly’s betrayal after the soda bottle incident. I had said most of what they accused me of, but it was all misconstrued to make me look like an evil monster. I could have retaliated, but I was not going to turn my friends into pawns of our game. I had previously borrowed Zach’s car to get my medicine, but since the fall out Hunter and John had been assuming the responsibility. I was thankful, but mostly I enjoyed the opportunity to get out of the apartment, and away from them. I still miss Zach, but with the combined force of John and Hunter, it was rare.

When I was leaving the hospital at the end of winter break, I had first thought about transferring schools. I wanted to be somewhere closer to home, closer to my family. Once I got back to Savannah and everything settled down, I was not so sure that I still wanted to leave. Yes, I still missed my family but at least in Savannah I had Zach, which at the time was close enough to family. Then we had our argument about the joke and I really started thinking hard about leaving. I started looking into schools closer to home, talking more to my parents about it, talking to John and Hunter about it; but still I was not certain. I did not want to make a rash decision that would affect the rest of my life. It was not easy by any means; Savannah was a home to me, Armstrong was a refuge, and my friends were like family. I was not certain I could leave all that behind. However, I could not make this decision because I was uncomfortable with change; I had to make this decision for me. Finally, after a while, I made up my mind. I could not stay any longer, my desire to be around my family far outweighed my fear of change. Late one night in April, I finally did it, I applied to the University of West Georgia. I still was uncertain, but I had to, the time had come for me to leave Savannah.

Before I realized it, my time in Savannah was almost gone. It was hard, but I had almost made it, the last few months I felt like I was stuck in my own personal hell. As the figurative clock ticked down, I became more and more determined to have fun during the last few days. Between our air conditioner being broken and the copious amount of liquor I had consumed the night before, I had not fallen asleep until very late. While I was still in a blissful state of sleep, I kept hearing a sound in my head. Knock, knock, knock! Again, this time louder, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK! What the hell is that? Then I heard my name and someone telling me to wake up. The voice sounded like a friend of mine. I was not dreaming, Scott had once woke me up in the same way; beating on the door and calling out my name. Go away Scotty! My head was throbbing to the tone of the door pounding. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Followed by them calling out my name and saying, “This is University Police! We need to talk to you.” Not funny Scotty, hold on. That ain’t Scotty. I’m up!

I was barely awake when I rolled out of bed, my glasses were askew on my face and I had a horrible case of bed head. For some strange reason I was cooler than usual and I looked down and I was standing there completely naked. What the hell happened last night. I tried to remember getting naked last night as I fumbled around for my clothes. I barely had pulled on a pair of shorts when the banging began again. “I’m coming,” I said feverishly spotting a shirt out of the corner of my eye. I opened the door just as I pulled the shirt over my head to be greeted by a tall and thin blond haired police officer. There was another on standing off to the side. He was shorter, wider, and darker haired. The blonde one asked me to step outside of my room and we went into the living room. “Would you like to talk outside?” One of the officers said.
“No I’m good,” I said while rubbing sleep out of my eyes as I sat on the couch. I must reek of cigarettes and boozes. I hope this isn’t about last night.
“Sorry for waking you up, but I wanted to talk to you about something you posted on Facebook,” said the blonde officer. He looked familiar but I could not place where I had seen him. I did not know what they were talking about. What in the world? I ain’t posted anything to Facebook except… I tried to fumble through my mind and think of all the stuff I had posted recently. Farmville, no. Crap, I posted about getting lost in the woods last night. But I didn’t mention drinking, so maybe they just think I have a horrible sense of direction and want to give me a compass. Either that or they think I’m suicidal, most of my Facebook post as of late had been rather grim in nature.
“Okay,” I said confused.
“It came to our attention that on May first you posted about only having six more days left and you wanted to go out with a bang,” said the blonde officer. The other one just sort of stood there, I guess he was back up in case I really went off the deep end.
“Huh? I’m not saying I didn’t, but I don’t remember it,” I said.
“We have a copy of it here,” he said pulling out a piece of paper and looking at it to make sure. Nice to know the University is keeping tabs on their students.
“I’m sorry, but I really don’t remember it, can I see it.”
“Yeah,” he said handing the paper over to me. It was a print screen from Facebook, and sure enough there it was. A highlighted comment box with my name on it and the words, “six more days. yippee i'm leaving this joint with a bang.” Well there is no denying that, just too bad I don’t remember posting it. I guess I was drunk or something, but I can’t tell them that though can I, so….
Trying to sound annoyed I said, “I meant I just wanted to have fun my last few days here, you know ‘go out with a bang.’”
Letting out a small laugh the blonde officer said, “Alright, that is what we figured. I seen your name and thought I remembered you and thought that it did not sound like you so I wanted to come by and check.”
If only I knew where I you from. “Yeah I thought I remembered you from somewhere, I just can’t seem to place it.”
“Didn’t you live in University Terrace last year, with Sam and them?”
“Yeah, well they were my neighbors?”
“I responded to an incident concerning one of your neighbors.”

“Oh yeah, the pot, or the drinking, or everything else.”
“Yep.”
At least now I know where the hell I had seen him from. Now if I only knew when I posted the message. “But yeah I only meant it as a metaphorical bang, not a literal one.”
“That is what I figured. I just wanted to make sure.”    
Top of Form
Bottom of Form
Out of the corner of my eye I seen Zach walk out the door carrying something. Then I noticed that Carson was in the kitchen draining the fish tank we had bought together when I first moved in last summer. Hmm! I guess they just felt like cleaning. Skeptically I thanked them for checking before jumping to conclusions. As they were walking out the door the blonde officer stopped and turned around and said, “Expect a call from the Director of Housing, he may want to talk to you too.”
“Alright, but I have a Stats test in a little while.”
“Well it should be just sometime today, I don’t know when.”
“Alright. Thank you and y’all have a good day,” I said as I closed the door.

I got ready for class and then left early for class to meet Hunter to study before our final. John showed up alone a little later. I had expected Zach and Carson to come in with him. I guess john got tired of waiting and wanted to study too. When class finally started, there was still no sign of Zach or Carson. Oh yeah Carson takes his test somewhere else because of his AD/HD. I assumed that Zach must have been with him, pulled some string so that the two of them would be able to test together the same as they slept together. I was disgusted at the thought. After class John and I went back to our apartment, It was the first time I had talked to him all day. I had not had enough time to tell him about what had happened that morning before the test began. On the way back to our apartment I told him what had happened. He listened contently, not saying a word until I got to the part about wondering how they had came across the post. “Where was Zach, it isn’t like him to miss a test?”
“I don’t know. I got a text from him saying that they were moving out.”
“I guess that is why he was carrying a suitcase this morning. I guess the heat finally got to them.”
“He said something about you messing with their stuff.”
“That is horse shit, it isn’t, but they don’t know that.”
“It is rather creepy to think that UP is keeping tabs on our internet activity. Is that even legal?”
“Or someone told them,” he said.
“Who would tell them, who would care?”
“You can’t think of no one?”
“No. But obviously you can. Who do you think told them?”
“I can think of two people who would jump at the chance to make your life a living hell.”
“Zach and Carson? They wouldn’t, would they?” He did not say anything, which got me thinking. “Except you wouldn’t make such an accusatory statement unless you knew something. So either you know something or you just enjoy your life being a living hell.” Still he did not say anything, but gave a guilty look. We were at the bottom of the stairs to our apartment. “What do you know.”
John began to climb as he said, “I don’t want to get into the middle of it.”
I was behind him and replied, “You’re already in the middle of it whether you like it or not. I’ve done the best I could to spare you, but obviously they have not, so what do you know.”
“If I tell you’re just going to get pissed and retaliate,” he said.
“No I am not, all semester I have not retaliated. Sure I pissed in Carson’s potted plant and Zach’s milk, but that was more just for fun that open retaliation.”
John laughed, “You forgot Carson’s Proactive. Okay,” we were standing at our front door, “do you have your key?”

We went inside and after throwing down my stuff I went into John’s room, “Okay tell me.”
“Alright,” he took a deep breath before starting, “The other day when Zach and I were studying for the Stats test Carson came in waving a piece of paper and told us to look at it. It was a print off from Facebook. He was all like, What do you think it means?”
“Wait, he actually printed it off?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s pathetic. I thought his printer was running low on ink.”
“He only said that so that you would not use it.”
“Oh well continue.”
“Well he was all like what does he mean by bang and asking Zach if you meant like gun shots or something. He asked Zach if you owned a gun, and Zach told him that you did.”
I laughed, “And Carson started freaking out.”
“Yep. Then Zach started freaking out.”
“What did you say?”
“I told them that they were being stupid. Of all people, Zach should know more than anyone that you would not do that.”

“And?”
“And he asked had I met you,” he said looking defeated.
“Hah! I guess it is good to know that they really think that I am crazy.”
“Yeah, I guess so. I told him that you don’t even own a gun, that they were over reacting, you probably just meant you wanted to have fun your last few days.”
“I do own guns though, but I don’t think he even knows that. Anyways they’re all in Alabama. What did they say.”
“Zach told me that your family owns guns and said, ‘what if he gets on of them to bring a gun.”

That pissed me off, “Really! He not only thinks I’m looney enough to go on a shooting rampage, but thinks my family is stupid enough to help me.”
“Yeah that is pretty much what I said. I can’t believe they actually turned you in, we all told them that they were stupid.”
“Who is we?”
“Laura walked in while they were talking about it and she told them you just meant you wanted to have fun.”
“Anyone else know about this?”

“I think Morgan.”
“Oh,” I took a deep breath, “I need to go and call my mum.”

I walked outside and lit up a cigarette, then dialed 3 for my mum. I was already pissed about the situation but it is one thing to call me a nutter who plans to go all Virginia Tech; but to imply that my family would help, that crosses the line. I had walked to the bottom of the stairs and was pacing the sidewalk in front of our apartment building when I It took a while, but finally my mum was able to calm me down. As she pointed out, there was a bright side. I did not have to deal with them any longer. I got off the phone because my battery was dying and headed back up stairs. I sat in the living room for a few minutes before Carson came in, apparently forgetting something with his absent minded mush for brains. The sight of him infuriated me. I can’t lose my cool, I can’t lose my cool, I can’t actually kill him. The thought of a literal bang was sounding pretty good right about now. Suddenly for some strange reason I thought of my Spanish project. I had to finish my movie before tomorrow. I went into my room and slammed the door. After a while I was fine, calm, cool, and collected. Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzz! It was my phone on my bedside table. I leaned over to pick it up, but did not recognize the number. The area code was from Savannah, I answered. It was the Director of Housing and he wanted to meet with me. I had plenty of time today, actually I had nothing to do for the rest of the day. I wanted to get this situation straightened out as soon as possible so I agreed to meet with him in five minutes.

Carson came in, he had forgotten something, which pissed me off even more, and I went into my room to cool down and work on my video for Spanish class. I had not been in there long when my cell phone began to ring. I did not recognize the number, when I answered it turned out to be someone from housing wanting me to come and talk to the Director of Housing. I had plenty of time, and I wanted to get this crap straightened out now, so I left right away.

I had only recently learned where the Director of Housings office was located. I had to go there to cancel my summer housing contract a few weeks before. The only reason I had a vague idea of what he looked like was because he live in our building two floors below us, but I had never met him in person. He had only taken up his position at the beginning of the semester after his predecessor’s work visa had expired. I sat in the waiting area for a while before he walked out of his office. He was a heavy set, middle-aged man, with medium-cropped pepper hair and emitted a pungent aroma of insincerity coupled with unserved ambition. With that all said, he did seem nice, or at least made you think he was; but I could understand his disposition. He was a middle-aged man living amongst college students. We went into his office and had a seat at a round table off to the side of the room. Of course, he wanted to talk, but did not go directly for the obvious topic. I cannot blame him, for all he knew I was mentally unstable at best and possibly homicidal. You could tell his greenness with dealing with such matters by the way he danced around the topic.
“How are you doing?” asked the Director
“Before today? I was fine. Since this morning…in all honesty I have questioned whether or not it would not be better just to jump off the student union.” I almost enjoyed scaring him with that one, a little pay back for making me sit through this farce. Plus, people usually take pity on the suicidal. He talked for a little while about the serious nature of it all, and I told him I did not mean I was going to blow up a damn building. “I just meant I wanted to have fun,” I said. “You know a figurative social bang, not a literal bomb exploding gun firing bang.” Although at this point, I was tempted. If anything, forcing me to sit through this charade of formalities was seriously making me want to make Zach and Carson go bang. He never would say Zach and Carson by name, or really even mention them at all, finally I said, “Look, the two guys who brought this to your attention, their names are Zach and Carson right.” He did not say anything just a glance of panic that told me what I already knew, “Them two and I have been having problems all semester because Carson turned my best friend into a fruitcake—”
“What do you mean ‘fruitcake’?” asked the director.
“Gay, he turned my friend gay, and then Zach started acting like a jerk so I quit having anything to do with him. Sure, I would like to see them suffer, but that does not mean I want to kill them. I’m guessing that they forgot to tell you all that,” I finished.
“Yeah, no I didn’t know anything about it,” the Director responded, still not wanting to admit they were the ones who brought this to his attention; but the fright that showed on his face was all I needed to know.
“Yeah they wanted to make me out to be a nutter by only telling half the story,” I said.
“So that is what this is all about?”
I nodded and replied, “Yep.”
He took a deep sigh of relief, “Okay, well they have been moved to another building until you leave and have been instructed not to return, so there should not be any more problems.”
“Good I don’t want to see them anymore, and if I am really bat-shit crazy and they feel that threatened by me then they should not want to be around me either. I mean who knows according to them I might blow them up or something.”
The worry temporarily returned to his face before he quickly hid it, “I guess you’re right. They should have all their stuff by now and shouldn’t bother you anymore.”
“If they do say forget something like they have been doing all day, I would like for them to have a police escort from now on, just to make sure that there is someone else there.”
“I don’t think that that will be necessary.”
“I do, I don’t want them to be in my apartment without some authority figure there, just in case I crack and go all Virginia Tech on their asses,” I said in a sarcastic tone. Then I saw the look of horror on the Director’s face and I added, “Or I wouldn’t want anything I say or do get misconstrued and used against me again.”
“Oh, okay, and if they do come back then you can also call me or email me, but they shouldn’t,” said the Director handing me a card.
“They’ve been in and out all day, and the last few times it was for stupid shit. I mean how much crap can they need for a few days.”
“They should have all of their stuff by now and if they come back then call me,” the Director said, “But I need something from you. Can you promise me that you will not harm yourself, property, or anyone else?”
I thought about it for a few minutes, probably longer than he had expected before answering, “See… I hate liars, it is my pet peeve, and I myself have a moral code that forbids me to lie, even if it is to save my own ass. So no, I can’t promise you anything. I have no clue what will happen two seconds from now, much less a few days. I can tell you I don’t plan on it, but that’s about it.”
By the look on his face I knew I had not said what he wanted, “I’m going to give you a few minutes to think about your answer.” Great idea, give the potential psychopath time to think of a way around the answer. There really is no answer other than the one I gave. I mean if Zach was to come over and force me to lose my temper, well….
“Okay I can tell you I don’t plan on it and I will try my best to avoid it, but I can’t give you a definite promise that nothing will happen. Say I promise you that and then I leave here and something does happen and I do cause harm to someone else, or their property, either accidentally or intentionally, I would have lied to you. Say I seen Zach and he started running his mouth and I got pissed, which would not take much at this point, and punched him or punched a wall to avoid punching him. Either way I would cause harm to myself, him, or y’all’s wall and would be lying to you. If I went home and took a massive shit and clogged up the toilet, that would be causing harm to property, unintentionally, but still I would be lying to you. I don’t know the future so I can’t promise you anything. I’m sorry, you’re just going to have to trust me when I say I don’t plan on it and I will try to avoid it,” I looked at him and knew he was not buying it. I added, “If it makes it easier, just know I take my word very serious and when I say I will try to avoid it, it is almost like me promising not to. It just avoids me having a moral conflict if anything does happen.” He did not like my answer, but realized there was no changing it. He told me I could leave, but I might have to talk to the Police Chief since he was still unsatisfied with my answer. He would call me later and let me know. I stood up, shook his hand, and walked out confident that if anything I had scared the crap out of them enough to get them back for making me go through this crap.

I thought about it all along the short walk back to my apartment. When I finally walked up the three flights of stairs and I saw my front door, a wave of relief flooded my body. Finally home, I could relax, no more being on my toes for opportunities to frighten. Our apartment was peaceful, even though there were repairmen working on the AC. It’s poetic that the day they move out they fix the AC. No more living in my own personal hell. I thought too soon. Came to the door of my room I turned to look toward the bathrooms and seen him standing there watching the workers. 

Standing in the hallway was the cause of my current situation, the paranoid, twitchy, faggot named Carson. He had no reason to be there, he was just standing over the repairmen, I guess he was supervising. I did not say a word to him as I walked straight into my room and slammed the door. I thought about it for a moment, he does not know. Calm down, go and tell him politely to leave. I opened the door and walked out, remembering to take deep breaths. “Carson, may I have a word with you.”
“No! You ain’t supposed to be talking to me.”
“Fine, I will talk at you. You need to leave, now!”
“I don’t have to leave, this is still my apartment, were just not supposed to talk to each other.”
The little twit was beginning to piss me off, “I just spoke to the Housing Director and we agreed that y’all needed an escort, so I am asking you nicely please leave!
“You don’t have the right to kick me out, this is still my apartment I still—”
“You gave up that right the second you ran to the police and tried to convince them I was fucking nuts and was going to go all Columbine. For me to be such a threat to your safety, you sure don’t seem to mind being around me. You’re the one who wanted to move, NOW GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” Carson knew he had played his cards and lost. He walked around looking for some item that he just could not live without. When he found nothing he grabbed some ridiculously ludicrous item, I think a colander, to justify his visit. After he left I returned to my room and called the number on the card that the Director had given me. It went to voicemail, which was pointless at this moment. I knew he had already left for the evening, he was packing up when I left. The next best thing was to email him, maybe he would check that at home. I guess I would have just walked down stairs and knocked on his door, but I was uncomfortable interrupting him during his personal time. It was already bad enough that he lived at his work.  

Later on that evening, I got a call from the Director. I guess he had not gone home after all, but where the hell was he when I needed him. He had just read my email though, which I guess was nice to know. He thought about it, and felt it would be best if I went ahead and talked to the Chief of Police. I guess I really did a number on him. That was fine with me, I did not mind. He told me that someone would call me in a little while and set up a time for me to meet with the Chief. Later on my phone rang and I was not even slightly surprised when the voice on the other side identified himself as Officer Something. I did not have anything to do tomorrow, or at least I thought, so I arranged the appointment to be at 11:00 am. I was going to have a good night celebrating; in my mind, I had won something, peace. Later on in the evening, I remembered that I had a Spanish oral presentation during the time of my appointment. It was late in the evening so there was nothing I could do; I could not miss my presentation. He is the chief of the University Police, so hopefully he would understand. Anyways, I was not going to let that interfere with tonight. John and I had a reason to celebrate; for the first time since the Fateful Night, there were no fruits in our apartment, only friends. We enjoying the moment drinking the last of my brandy, smoking cigars, and playing rummy all night.

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