The Hall: What Every Parent Should Not Read!

By Lost Lenny

The Hall is one young mans adventures as he lives through his Freshman year in college. The novel starts at the beginning, in his home on Long Island, onto an epic journey to a mythical college in upstate New York, and then, through the months that he becomes involved with his dorm life, his adventures with his new friends, and culminating with his first involvement with a young woman.
As the story unfolds, The Hall explores the complexities of dormitory life and how they intertwine with the characters that I present to the reader.
Many of the characters are based on real people that I had met in college. Their memories have left a lasting impression on me and I have decided to tell of their adventures and mine, too in a book that I can share with others.
It is important to note that I have changed the characters real names to names of my own invention. I have also written the events in the story so that they have a fictional context to them and are in no way related to real people or mention real places.
I hope that you enjoy reading The Hall and that we can do business with each other in the future.

Thank You
Len Nicholas
Lost Lenny


[e-mail]

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Feb 11, 2013
• ISBN: 9781477286821

Lost Lenny

Leonard Nicholas was born in New York City in 1947 and went to public school on Long Island. After graduating high school, he attended Oswego State University in upstate New York and earned a teaching degree in Industrial Arts. The author is now retired from education and spends his time ( when not writing) with his family, riding his BMW motorcycle, or driving his 1931 Model A Ford.

Book preview

THE

HALL

WHAT EVERY PARENT SHOULD NOT READ!

Lost Lenny

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AuthorHouse™

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© 2013 by Lost Lenny. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 01/31/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4772-8683-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-8681-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-8682-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012923005

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

VII

VIII

IX

X

XI

XII

XIII

XIV

XV

XVI

XVII

XVIII

XIX

XX

XXI

XXII

XXIII

XXIV

XXV

XXVI

XXVII

XXVIII

XXIX

XXX

XXXI

XXXII

XXXIII

XXXIV

XXXV

I

Mrs. Nilsson looks out of the window as she thinks about her son. He had graduated from high school in June. Lester had not been a great student, just barely a good one. She is relieved that he had earned a diploma. Finally, she muses, Lester goes to college. Mrs. Nilsson walks to a nearby stairway and looks up.

Lester!

Lester! she repeats louder.

Huh?

It’s five AM, and we must get you to the bus station.

OK mom, I’m comin’, he says after a wide yawn.

The woman turns from the stairway and moves to the kitchen, stops, and looks up the stairs again and speaks.

I pressed your black suit. It’s in your closet.

Damn! he thinks. But Mom, it’s wool! he whines.

Lester! she snaps. Your father and I want you to look your best!

His mother’s words silence him, and he labors out of bed.

Rosalyn, today’s the big day, says Lester’s father.

I know. Think he’ll be OK?

Of course!

His words have a soothing effect on her. But, she continues to worry.

I told him to wear his new black suit.

The wool one?

"Yes, he looks so nice in it.

Burt Nilsson forms a mental image of his son dressed in his black suit mingling with other college men in suits, too.

Don’t worry, Ros, he’ll fit right in.

The mother relaxes, then hears her son walk into the room. Les loosens his tie and sits down at the table.

Lester, straighten that tie. You look sloppy.

But Mom.

Do as your mother says, the father orders.

But Dad!

Look, we don’t have time to argue. Finish your breakfast so we can drive you to the bus station at the Port Authority. We’d take you, but the car is old and won’t make it to Red Creek.

The son lapses into a moody silence as he eats.

*     *     *

The Greyhound bus rolls West on the New York State Thruway. Some passengers stare at the passing scenery, others are talking to their neighbors, while a few wonder why they have not been stopped for speeding. Les is thinking about Red Creek College.

He is not nervous, nor is he impatient. But he is trying to form a mental image of where he is going. Red Creek is nearly 400 miles from his home on Long Island. It will be great to meet new people, he thinks. He looks out of his window and sees that the bus is passing a line on cars. When they disappear, he thinks of Red Creek again and is relieved that the school had accepted him in their Industrial Arts Program. Better than going into the army, he muses, Vietnam could kill a guy and for what? He gazes at the passing landscape until his brain slips into a detached void and he goes to sleep. In a few hours, his body senses the bus slowing down. He wakes up and looks at the person sitting next to him.

Where are we?

Exit 36, Syracuse I think.

Is this where we get off?

Depends where you’re going.

I’m going to college in Red Creek.

Oh, then you’ll take another bus to get up there.

Les looks at his ticket again and sees that he must switch buses. He moves uneasily in his seat and waits. Within an hour, the bus pulls into a parking space inside a large terminal. He must get off, then load his baggage onto another bus that will take him to college.

*     *     *

The door swings open to a side street in the busy city of Red Creek. Les gets up and takes his suit jacket from the rack above him. His tie is stuffed into one of the pockets. He wants to throw it away, but, an image of his mother scolding him appears, and he gets off the bus with it. Outside, the driver has already opened a large door on the side of the bus and is removing all of the passengers’ luggage. Les moves towards a large green metal trunk. He looks at the driver before he picks it up.

Could you tell me where the college is?

The driver grabs another suitcase and answers, Go over to Bridge Street, turn right, and the college is about a half a mile away by the lake.

Les takes his trunk, lifts it onto his shoulder and walks away. When he gets to the end of the street, he lowers the trunk and surveys a wide avenue that appears to be the main thoroughfare of the city. Storefronts and cars line the road. In the distance, the street goes up a gradual hill where large trees are lining the road. That must be where the college is, he thinks as he picks up his trunk and starts moving again.

As he walks, the weight of the trunk digs a groove into his shoulder causing the muscles in his back and arms to protest. He stops again, then notices a few cars passing him. Inside are proud parents bringing their nervous offspring to the dormitories. Les curses his parent’s car, then wonders if the other students know what to do when they get there. I sure don’t!

He puts down the trunk and opens it, revealing the neatly folded clothing his mother had packed. On top is an envelope from the college. Lester removes a letter and reads it carefully this time. It says I’ll be in Craig Hall—room E 313. Where the hell is that? Lester puts away the letter, closes the trunk, lifts it onto his shoulder and walks up the hill to the college. In the distance are young men and women standing in a line on a corner. What’s this? he wonders. He walks on and stops in front of the line. A pimple-faced boy looks at him.

You know where Craig Hall is? Les queries.

Craig Hall? the boy asks. But, a young woman in back of him interrupts, Yeh, it’s right over there. She points to a small brick dormitory a short distance away. In back of the building is a small parking lot. Attached to the dormitory is another building angling off in an obtuse direction. Les stares at the structures and wonders, Are they the same dorm? He walks to the nearest building. His shoulder is aching again and he stops a few feet from an entrance. A young man clad in a wool and leather jacket walks out. On the back of his jacket are Greek letters. Les yells to him. The young man turns around.

What?

Is that Craig Hall?

Yes, you a freshman?

Yeh, I just got here.

OK. My name is Harry Weinsteiner. I’m helping with freshman orientation. Follow me.

The pair goes into a building, up three flights of stairs, then through a doorway into a hall. Inside are other young men neatly dressed in sports jackets or suits, most with their parents. Some have loosened their ties. A tall, muscular senior walks up to them.

I’m Bill Cross. You a freshman?

Yeh, name’s Lester Nilsson.

You from the Island?

Yeh.

Good. I got your name on my list. I’ll be your RA this year.

RA?

You know, Resident Assistant. I’m in charge of this floor.

Really?

You know, if you have any problems, I’m supposed to help you. Also, I’m in charge of order around here. Mostly on Friday and Saturday nights when everyone goes drinking.

Drinking?

Never mind, Bill says and changes the subject, Let me show you where your room is.

Cross turns and walks towards a door at the end of the hall separating Craig Hall from Barker Hall, the other men’s dormitory. At one end, next to an exit door, is Les’s room, E313. Its door is open and voices are heard from within. Les walks slowly into his new home where he sees two tiny dressers, two tiny beds, two small bare desks, each with three drawers, a wall phone by the door, and two tiny closets. Les’s new roommate has already moved one of the beds against a bare wall, away from the window. Les looks at his roommate.

Ralph is 18 and of medium height. He has a receding hairline that makes him look much older. His movements are not rushed, but he displays a poise of someone who seems older and is pensive and deliberate, too.

Hi, I’m Les Nilsson.

Hi, I’m Ralph Price. These are my parents.

Les extends his hand and greets everyone. Ralph clears his throat. You thinking of sleeping next to that window?

Les looks at the view of a large weathered building, Waldon Hall and answers, Sort of.

Well, I wouldn’t. The winters around here are fierce. That wall will get awful cold when that window ices up, too.

They can’t be that cold, Les wonders. But, he wants to make a good impression with his new roommate and his parents, too. OK, I’ll take the opposite wall.

It is almost five and Les is feeling the strain of a long day. His stomach reminds him that he has missed lunch, and it is now time for supper. He looks at Ralph who is talking to his mother. The father looks at the clock, then sees the anxious expression on Les’s face. Mother, you think we should go? Mrs. Price turns her head and looks at him.

What time is it?

Almost five and we have a long way to drive, the father says.

I suppose.

Ralph, we’re going now. Les we’ll see you around, Mr. Price says.

The mother gives her son one last hug. The father shakes his hand and the couple drifts out of the room. Ralph watches his parents disappear, then he strips off his jacket and pulls the tie from his neck. The freshmen are finally alone.

Ralph, they serving supper?

He shrugs his shoulders. Let’s see. They walk out of the room into the hall. A few rooms away they hear voices.

Your folks gone now? someone asks.

Finally, another answers.

Good, let’s eat.

Ralph and Les walk into room 315. The other boys look at them.

Hi, I’m Dave Belcher. He’s Jim Buckley.

Les looks at them. Dave is a large, heavy set kid with thick dark hair that is constantly falling over his eyes. On one hand is a huge aluminum ring filed to an ominous point. Jim is taller and much thinner. He seems to be the quiet type, content to let others talk. But, his reticence masks an active mind.

I’m Les Nilsson. This is Ralph Price. You guys eat yet?

I haven’t. You Jim? His roommate shakes his head. Why don’t we find the cafeteria.

The boys nod in agreement and leave the room. Other freshmen are in the corridor. As their parents leave the hall, they also remove their jackets and ties.

The freshmen are away from home, some for the first time in their lives.

You guys know where we can get something to eat? someone asks.

The cafeteria is downstairs, another answers.

II

The freshmen become rowdy as they go downstairs. At first, they are reluctant to talk with each other. But, one student is curious. Anyone from Long Island?

I’m from Hicksville, Dave Belcher says.

Really? I’m from Massapequa, Les blurts.

The hell with Long Island. Anyone live around Dekalb Junction?

Wally Leonard’s outburst alerts the others and they look at the short, stocky freshman. He gives them an impish grin that reveals a mischievous nature.

Where the hell is Dekalb Junction? one asks.

Well, let me put it this way. If Watertown is the asshole of the state. DeKalb Junction is 40 miles up it.

The boys break out into laughter fading away any remaining barriers between them. By the time they get to the cafeteria they have been transformed into a raucous gang bent on merriment and mischief as they adjust to their new-found freedoms. Beyond, is a line of students taking plates of food from the top of a glass case. All are quiet, but for the group on Les’s floor.

Heh, this doesn’t look bad, Wally says.

What do you expect. Some parents are still here, a voice says.

The boys select their food as they move along the counter. At the end is an elderly woman by a cash register. Close by is a list that she is checking. Les approaches her.

Your name? she asks.

Lester Nilsson.

She looks down the list and scrutinizes the names. Lester Nilsson, huh? Your meal number is 142. You can only use it in this cafeteria. The woman waves him through. Next.

Les goes to a long table where his new friends are sitting. He pulls out a seat and sits next to Jim Buckley. How’s the food?

Good, the apple pie is great.

The boys eat in silence until someone notices a tall, muscular upper classman coming through the line. Here’s our fearless leader, Ed Davis says, But, he’s going to another table.

So? another snaps.

He’s suppose to be here, isn’t he? Ralph asks.

Who knows, but he’s supposed to check up on us if we do something wrong, Wally answers.

Wrong? someone asks.

You know, like break something or bring in beer.

Well, Jim interrupts, We just have to be careful. The others shift their eyes and nod their approval, each sharing the same thought. Wally clears his throat. Talk about beer, where do people hang out around here?

I don’t know, but there’s an IGA on the edge of campus. Les says.

Really? Who’s 18? Wally asks and looks at Ralph’s balding head.

Ralph clears his throat. I am.

I’ll put a dollar in for beer, Dave Belcher whispers, as he throws a dollar bill onto the table. Les throws in another.

In a few minutes, a small pile of bills appears. Ralph looks around the room and sees two more freshmen approaching. He quickly covers the money with his hands. The new students join them.

You all from the third floor, East wing?

Yeh, a voice says.

I’m Calvin Murdock. This is Tom Aragonni. We had to go someplace. That’s why we didn’t eat with you. Tom nods his head. Calvin looks at Ralph’s hands. What are you hiding?

The freshmen are silent and suspicious as they stare at the pair. Calvin is short, but seems well built. The pocket on his shirt is bulging from the pack of Pall Mall cigarettes in it. Though the others are staring at him, he does not look away. But, he meets their stares with a defiant look, a challenge he uses against all forms of authority.

Tom Aragonni is taller, almost six feet, thin, but not bony. He moves with a fluid grace of a prize fighter. His eyes reveal the wildness of a roguish youth. Tom looks at the others, then sees the money.

Looks like you’re taking up a collection, Tom says and darts Calvin a knowing look.

You guys buying beer? Calvin asks, then looks hard at his friend who reveals a faint smile. He looks at Ralph and says, We got a case in my room.

The freshmen are silent, but smiling. Ralph scoops up the money, stacks it, and hands the bills to Calvin. Let’s go to your room and party, a voice intones. The boys rise in unison, take their trays to the dishwasher and leave the cafeteria. Bill Cross looks across the room at them and muses, I wonder who’s floor they are on?

*     *     *

Calvin Murdock reaches down and takes another can of Budweiser from the half-empty case in the middle of the floor. He snaps the tab open and leans back against the wall and looks at the other five freshmen.

What if they catch us? Wally asks and takes a long swig from his can.

They won’t, Calvin answers and watches Wally throw the empty can into the half-filled waste basket next to the beer case. Anyway, we’ll hear anybody in the hall before they can get here.

You think there’s much chance of anyone seeing us? Ralph asks, tossing his can into the container.

Nah, Calvin answers, now at ease with another beer in his hand. He brings the can up to his lips, takes another swig, then lights a cigarette. His eyes close and he appears content as the alcohol courses through him. The others watch and mimic his example.

How much more we got? a voice asks.

Who’s got a cigarette? another demands.

About five cans, Calvin answers and takes another swig. Who wants to get more?

The others stare at Tom, their eyes begging him to get more, but he counters their stares, saying, Me and Cal got it the last time. Tom darts a look at Les.

"I can’t. My birthday isn’t til’ next month.

They look at Ralph, their eyes begging him to go. But, he hesitates and moves uneasily in his chair. OK, I’ll go. But, one of you has to help me carry the case back. It’s 24 cans you know.

I’ll go, Dave Belcher drawls as if he is doing the others a favor.

Ralph takes the money and puts it in his pocket, then rises. Dave gets up, too, and the pair leaves the room.

The freshmen leave Craig Hall and walk to the IGA grocery store by the edge of the campus. At the end of the road, in front of the dorm, they can see some students patiently standing in line on a street corner. As the pair moves closer to the intersection, a car stops and two people move from the head of the line into the car.

What’s this? Dave asks.

Don’t know. Let’s see, Ralph answers and the boys walk across the intersection and go to a student standing in line.

Why’s everyone here? Dave asks.

This is the hitching corner. We wait here for cars to bring us into town.

*     *     *

Bored, Wally impatiently looks around his room and sees a hard rubber hockey puck on top of his desk. He grabs it and starts sliding the puck on the desk’s smooth surface. At first, Wally’s playfulness appears to be ignored until Calvin Murdock, his room mate, notices him.

What’s that?

A puck.

You play hockey? Murdock asks.

Yeh, a little.

Calvin continues staring at the hard rubber, his brain churning. He looks at his roommate.

You think we can all play hockey?

Where?

Out in the hall.

I don’t know. We need sticks for that, Wally protests.

Why?

We can kick it instead, Jim Buckley interrupts.

That seems like fun, Calvin says, "Let’s go out in the hall and make up teams.

The foursome leaves the room and splits into teams, two students at each end of the hall. A glass window above a sheet metal-clad iron radiator is at one end. A wooden door is at the other. Wally moves in front of Cal, puts the puck on the floor, and kicks it towards the other end of the hall. The rubber stops harmlessly a few feet from the other team. Jim kicks the puck back, harder, grazing Calvin on the foot, enraging him. Calvin, in turn, kicks the puck back much harder than he did before. The puck shoots back, past the other team, and hits the wooden door. The sound echoes in the hall. But, the boys do not notice. Jim Picks up the puck with his hand and throws it at the other team’s knees. The boys dodge the missal, and it strikes the metal cover of the radiator, just below the window. Stop, Les yells. The others wonder why? Les wildly waves his arm and yells to the others.

Watch that window!

But, Wally is excited and ignores Les, he lunges for the puck and prepares to throw it. Calvin grabs his arm. Wait, I got an idea. The others watch him run into Room 312 and reappears dragging his mattress. The others watch him labor to the window, lift the mattress on its end, and cover the radiator and most of the window. But, two feet of glass is still exposed. Wally runs into the room and strips the covers from his mattress and drags it into the hall. The boys place it over the window, too. The window is still exposed. Calvin looks at the others.

We still need more.

Murdock runs into another room. The others watch him drag another into the hall, heedless of its owner, then yells, Get more mattresses.