Farewell, Fair Child: The Undergraduate

By J.J. Amirikhas

This is a sequel to Farewell, Fair Child. In fact, it is two sequels.

The first sequel is about Jason Tristrum in college, and about his relationship with the two loves that he formed in high school: Salonne and Mary Ann. There is also a brief section about Persian history and Persian customs.  

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gotham Books
• Release date: Apr 24, 2023
• ISBN: 9798887752686

Book preview

Part One. Salonne

1

I spotted her as soon as I came in through the door. She stood out from among all the rest of the girls as she had always. She was by the statue of Venus, appraising it speculatively, her profile toward the door and me, her forehead puckered in mild concentration. I blinked my eyes at her. Could it be? Could it be her? Could it possibly?

What was she doing in Jefferson? She should be a hundred and fifty miles away up in Reardon U. It was someone else. It must be. Someone who bore a strong resemblance to her.

Within me, however, deep within me, I knew it was Salonne; even though she had changed the style of her hair, cut it quite short: in an almost boyish fashion. Her hair, the color of autumn leaves, had a blue ribbon in it, which matched the purple-blue of her eyes. A pleated black skirt, a black handbag, and low white sneakers completed her outfit.

I stood gazing at her, fluttering my eyelids, expecting her to burst into a puff of smoke any moment and vanish from my sight. I had not laid eyes on her for three and a half years, and now for her to pop up before me so unexpectedly--well, it took my breath away.

As she still remained, remained in solid form, I regained some of my composure and, setting my books on a chair nearby, approached her from the rear; slowly, with measured steps. I was two feet away from her when she seemed to conclude her study of the statue and strolled away from it toward an open door. I followed. The door led to a balcony that overhung the street three storeys below. It was a cold day in January, the first day of a new semester, my final semester in college, and the door was ajar. The wind that swept in was chilly.

Salonne surveyed the outside grey world for a brief spell and then she shut the door and turned around. Her eyes lighted on me.

I had thought of a flippant remark to make to her as soon as she saw me, but when those glistening purple eyes leveled on me, I forgot what I wanted to say and could only smile at her foolishly, blushing the meanwhile.

Her mouth, cherry-red, fell open and the onyx pupils of her eyes grew slightly salient. Jason! She breathed, her hand rising to her throat.

Yup, I said. It’s me.

Jason, baby…………

I smiled. Hello, Sal. What are you doing here?

Here? Oh…………………I guess I’m taking this course.

No. I mean………………here in Jefferson. Aren’t you supposed to be upstate?

Oh, she said. That.

Yes.

She leaned on the doorjamb, moistened her lower lip. I flunked out.

Flunked out! I exclaimed, looking at her with incredulity.

Salonne had finished in the top one percentile of our graduating high school class. I had finished fifteen points below her.

More or less, she said. I had a 3.6 average. So I transferred here. It’s an easier college. But I’ve been here since last semester.

Yeah? How come I didn’t see you?

She shrugged.

I guess we weren’t taking the same courses. What’s your major?

Psych.

Yeah. Mine is English. Why are you taking art then?

She shrugged again, elegantly. As a lark.

I leaned an elbow on the wall alongside of her, looking her over. I can’t believe it. You here. But flunking out. You?

Yes. Me. Too much partying.

Yes.

She gazed at me with her azure eyes, so deeply hued and so enchanting. Well, Jason baby. Are you glad to see me? Didn’t you miss me all this time?

Yes. I did. I really, honestly did.

Have you been here in Jefferson all the time?

Yeah. I sighed.

Like it?

It’s all right.

Actually, I hated it. It was a dinky college. I hated it the more because high school had been so much fun, and it was such a let-down to come to college. Jefferson was nothing like Paris High. One was an Elysian Field, the other a remote cove of Hades.

I had loved high school, and one of the reasons for that, the major reason, was she who now stood before me. Now that she was here, maybe I could learn to like college too. Tolerate it, anyhow. What was left of it.

The class had started and the kids were filing toward their seats in the room. The teacher, a tall, pot-bellied man, was engaged in conversation with a gent at the door.

I turned to Salonne. Where are you sitting?

In the back. Come sit next to me.

Sure thing.

She led the way to a chair in the back of the room. The boys in the room gave her a collective stare, and then showered me with envious glances. A couple of boys I barely knew waved their hands at me. Salonne paid no attention to any of them. I sat down beside her with true delight.

It was wonderful seeing her again. She was like a sill of sunshine on a rainy day. My days in Jefferson, with rare exceptions, had been dreary. Salonne promised to brighten the remaining ones with the radiance of her smile.

You’ve cut your hair, I said to her as we made ourselves comfortable in our seats.

Yes. Like it?

Actually, no. I like your hair longer.

Well, then, I’ll have to let it grow out. She gave me a saucy smile and took my hand in hers; squeezed it. Maybe it was wishful thinking on my part, but Salonne seemed as pleased to see me as I was seeing her.

She looked toward the front of the room. The teacher, Mr. Grayson, had finished his business with the gent at the door and was preparing to address the class.

I tapped Salonne lightly on her elbow. When do you eat lunch?

About one.

In the cafeteria?

Yes.

I’ll see you there then.

All right.

The cafeteria was crowded, as usual. It was always a source of wonder to me why so many students flocked to the place to eat the generally indigestible and unappetizing food that the cafeteria staff served out; especially since an Italian luncheonette, which served most succulent dishes, was located just around the corner. The luncheonette was more expensive, true, but its food was so much better. The luncheonette was where I usually ate, but since Salonne would be dining at the cafeteria today, I would too.

I did not see her amidst the undulating, teeming student body, which meant she was not here yet. Had she arrived already, she would be quite conspicuous: like a gleaming beacon among a bunch of half-burned wax tapers.

I searched for an empty space, but was hard put finding one. Finally, two girls at a corner table vacated their seats and I dashed over there and secured the place by laying my books on one of the chairs. I occupied the other chair and kept vigil for Salonne.

She came in ten minutes later and I hailed her loudly from my corner. A soft smile flickered on her lips as she spotted me, and she veered toward my table, her black purse swinging on her arm.

That walk.

Hi, I greeted her warmly and lifted my books so she could lower her very delectable posterior onto the chair I had reserved for her.

Hi, she returned, sitting down, putting her purse aside and propping her chin up with one hand, her elbow resting on the table top. You know, you‘ve changed, Jason.

I have? For better or for worse?

Well, it couldn’t get much worse. She laughed. No, for the better. You’re taller, fuller; cuter.

That’s true, I replied, grinned. Very observant of you. But you haven’t changed much.

No?

You’re as gorgeous as you always were.

Am I?

Yes. Although you’re fuller too. I gazed at her chest pointedly; smiled.

She smiled back. Yes. I’ve put on some weight. Fortunately, in the right place.

Yesss.

So……………are you going to buy me lunch?

Sure. Anything you want. That’s less than three dollars. I grinned again.

She smiled again, told me what she wanted, and I worked my way up to the counter. And it was work. Students massed all over the place, formed into small groups and gabbing garrulously.

I was nervous. I feared that if I lingered too long at the food counter Salonne might vanish, get up and walk out, go with someone else, get abducted, anything. I still could not fully grasp the idea, the good fortune, the terrific fortune, actually, that she was here; here in Jefferson, for the near future. With me. It seemed too good to be anything but a fantasy of mine.

But it was real. She was still there when I returned with our two platefuls of meatball sandwiches and two cups of cocoa. She had her compact open and was checking her make-up. As I came up, she put away the cosmetics. It pleased me to think that she was prettying herself up for my sake, even though that might not be the case. Or maybe she was checking her hair, which I had said was too short.

I set the two plates before us and we plunged in. Meatball sandwiches was one of the very few dishes here that was tolerable to eat.

Have you been back to Paris High at all? I asked Salonne as I separated the two halves of my sandwich.

She shook her head. No. Have you?

A couple of times. The place has changed. It’s not the same as when we were there.

How has it changed?

Well, it’s hard to say. I guess it’s not so much the place as the people. The students. The teachers. I hardly know anyone there anymore. You know Mr. Terretier left?

Yes. I heard he did.

And so did Mr. Lawson. And Mr. Oldham retired, and Miss Fleming resigned.

"She