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Living in Daddy's Closet Part Two

Going to University

By Michael Lee TuckerPublished 3 years ago 25 min read
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Chapter 4

The School Year

The University of Pacific was one of the most beautiful places in Stockton, especially during the autumn. It had an Ivy League look to it. The reds, yellows, and browns of the leaves made the campus looked like a modern mosaic, and the autumn of 1953 was stunning. Early morning September 8th, Lillian and Harlan arrived at the archway entrance of UOP. Harlan sported his new brown pinch-back suit, with a very pale blue shirt and a wine color tie. His shoes were brown Florsheim wingtips. He looked quite stylish. The taxi driver took out Harlan’s luggage and said it on the sidewalk.

“That will be $1.50, ma’am.”

“We will make it $2.50 if you take the luggage up to his room.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Give me the key to your room, and I’ll go with the taxi driver and unpack your luggage. That way, you can go to registration.”

“Thanks, Aunt Lillian,” Harlan said and then ran off to the registration office. He could hardly believe that he was here; he was unsure, but he thought he must’ve been the first colored person to walk through these halls as a student. He felt an individual honor in that. As he arrived at the registration office, he saw lines of people waiting to sign up for classes, and on one of those lines, he saw Douglas. “Hey, Douglas,” Harlan cried.

“Harlan, it’s good to see you,” Douglas responded. “Come here.”

“I have to get in line.”

Douglas turned to the person behind him and said, “We’re together, do you mind?”

The person just shrugged his shoulders as if to say, what could he do, then Douglas gestured for Harlan to come on.

“I was hoping to see you here,” said Douglas.

“So was I.,” responded Harlan.

“So, what classes are you taking?”

“I’m going to sign up for the fine arts program, and you?”

“I think I’m going to go for the literary program. English lit.”

"So, you are going to try to be a lyricist after all.”

“If I can. So, are you going to live on campus or continue living with your aunt?”

“I have a room in the dorm.”

“That is no way to go. Why don’t you pledge for one of the fraternities?”

“Look at me!”

“So what!”

“I don’t think that one of the fraternities is going to except me. I’m lucky to be going to this college at all.”

“Look, I’m pledging for Alpha Lambda Delta; you should pledge there too.”

“It is easy for you; your father is an alumnus.”

“So, you get a recommendation from my father. He likes you. Come on, Harlan, we’d be together.”

When Douglas said those words, Harlan wondered if he knew how he felt about him. Harlan asked himself if he had the same feelings but then thought to himself, that’s impossible; why would the son of the bank president feel something for a little colored boy. However, for some strange reason, he, at least, wanted to be friends, and Harlan thought it was a way to be close to Douglas; they would be living in the same fraternity. Maybe even sleeping in the same room; how wonderful would it be to wake up every morning and see Douglas, Harlan thought.

Then Douglas said, “great.” For he too wanted to wake up and see Harlan every morning. He also had the same desires as Harlan. Nevertheless, it would take them more than a year to figure this out.

As soon as they had finished registering, they ran back to the dorm to find Aunt Lillian had completely set up Harlan’s room. His bags were unpacked his clothes were folded and put into closets and drawers. She had equally divided the space because she knew that Harlan would have a roommate. When they arrived at the dormitory, Douglas caught a glimpse of Aunt Lillian. So, just before Harlan could get in the door, Douglas pulled his arm and whispered,

“Maybe I’d better stay out here.”

“What for,” Harlan asked.

“Your aunt is in there.”

To which Harlan responded, “and?”

“She still might be angry about what happened at the house on the day of the reception.”

Lillian heard the whispers outside the door. So she just opened the door wide and said, “if you two boys don’t stop dillydallying and come in here, I just set everything up. And Douglas Dressler, if you don’t stop looking at me like the cat who ate the canary. What in heaven’s name is wrong with you?”

“I thought you might be mad at me for what happened the last time we saw each other.”

“You had nothing to do with that incident, and I know that, Douglas. You are as nice and as honorable a young man as your father. And I will not hear any more talk of what happened the last time I saw you. It’s always been my policy to let bygones be bygones. And I will not change that today do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Harlan, I just wanted to let you know that I realize that you are becoming a young man now. You’re going to be out on your own and making your own decisions, and your aunt and your mother are extremely proud of you. You are not the first person and our family to go to the university. However, you are the first person in the family to go to a university of this caliber. In itself, it’s an achievement, May you live up to that achievement. And in honor of the occasion, I have bought you a small present. Lillian handed him a package wrapped in I. Magnum’s paper.”

“Aunt Lillian, what have you done?”

“Well, just don’t stand there holding it. Open it up!”

Harlan opened it up to find the cashmere sweater that he had always wanted.

“Aunt Lillian, this must’ve cost $300.”

"And so what if it did. It’s yours now.”

“Gee Harlan, it looks fantastic,” Said Douglas.

“Here, touch it!”

“Wow! I have never felt anything so soft.”

At that moment, another family arrived; it was Harlan’s roommate. The roommate looked at Douglas and said, “My name is Jonathan Wentworth. You must be Harlan Johnson.”

“I’m sorry you’re mistaken. I’m not Harlan. He is.”

The look on Jonathan Wentworth’s face was that of shock. “You don’t think I am supposed to share a room with a…”

“I don’t think you should continue what you were about to say, young man,” Aunt Lillian said.

At this point, Young Wentworth’s parents entered the room. “What seems to be the problem here?”

“Daddy, they put me in the room with a colored man.”

“Why, if it isn’t Jacob Wentworth,” Snickered Aunt Lillian. “How do you do?”

“Why, Miss Forrester, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I’m sure you didn’t. This is my nephew, Harlan Johnson. He’ll be sharing a room with your son.”

“Why I haven’t seen Harlan since he was 8 years old. How are ya, Harlan?”

“I’m fine, Sir.”

“You have to forgive my boy; he’s not used to seeing colored folk. Jonathan, you be nice to Miss Forrester’s nephew. Why Miss Forrester is the first person to give me a job in this town. So you be nice to them, you hear me!”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Harlan had vague memories of Jacob Wentworth from when he used to work for his aunt. It was back in the forties when Harlan was a child. He remembered Jacob as a cruel prankster, and though no one used the word at the time, as a child molester. He really could not believe that someone would marry him and have his child. He never told his aunt of the many times Jacob tried to get him to go back into the woodshed that lay just behind the grapevines. But Harlan never went.

And now Harlan was to be in a room with Jacob’s son.

Jonathan was an unattractive boy, no matter how you looked at it. He was a typical heavy set Okie. He had squinty eyes and thinning blond hair, although he was only 18. Obviously, he worked on a farm or did some type of heavy outdoor work. He was quite muscular in one way; however, his chubbiness destroyed any muscle definition that he might have had. His teeth were crooked, and they looked tobacco-stained, but probably, it was merely from the fact that he didn’t brush them. How he had gotten into the University of Pacific was an astonishment to all. But it was a well-known fact that he had played football for Edison High, and they had had a championship season that year because of him.

Jacob Wentworth smiled at Miss Lillian and said: “What a surprise that our two boys are going to be roommates!”

“Yes, it is a surprise, isn’t it?” remarked Miss Lillian.

“Well, Harlan, I think it’s time that I go. It was nice seeing you again, Douglas. And it’s always a pleasure seeing you, Jacob. It’s amazing how much your boy has grown, and I hear he’s a football star.”

“That he is. All-Star of Edison High! That’s the only reason he got into the school; he’s playing for the football team. God knows he ain’t got no brains.”

“Daddy!” cried out, Jonathan.

“Well, we all have our talents. And we have to accept the fact that we don’t have others.” His father replied. “I think I’ll be going with you, Miss Lillian. You need a ride over to your place?”

“That’s very amiable of you; it will save me the taxi money.”

Jacob held the door open for Miss Lillian. They both left chattering like old friends, even though Miss Lillian never really cared for Jacob, but that was Miss Lillian, always polite and always cordial.

Douglas had no trust in Jonathan Wentworth and could not envision Harlan living in the same room. Maybe it was a bit of intuition or even a bit of jealousy or perhaps a bit of both. However, he was more intent than ever to get Harlan into the fraternity.

“Look, I have to get back to the frat house, Harlan. Do you wanna come with me?” Douglas asked.

“No, I have some stuff to finish up here,” replied Harlan.

“You should really come with me. I want you to meet the gang.” Douglas insisted. “It will help you get into the fraternity.”

Harlan wanted to go, but his fear of rejection held him back. He was sure that Douglas was wrong; he thought that once they saw him, all they would see was a colored person. He was trying to think of a way to keep Douglas with him, so he suggested that Douglas stay.

“We could hang out here,” Harlan stated.

“But all the pledges have to be there today at 3:00.”

“It’s only 1:00.”

“Look, I’ll take a look at the frat house. You do what you have to do here, and I’ll be back to pick you up at 2:30. Is it a deal? You’ve got to come! I’m sure they’ll let you into the frat house. You’re intelligent, you're talented, you belong with us.”

Jonathan picked up on the last remark that Douglas made, and he resented it. He felt it had been directly aimed at him. He knew that in no way could he make Douglas suffer, for the repercussions of tormenting the son of the bank president would be severe. In his mind, the only option of getting revenge would be to take it out on Harlan. He watched Harlan and Douglas carefully and picked up on the two's contact with each other. He immediately interpreted it for what it was. For as brutal and as inhumane as Jonathan could be, he had an innate instinct for recognizing love.

“So, will you come?” Douglas reiterated. “Please, Harlan, try for me!”

“All right, come back at 2:30.”

“Thanks, Harlan, you won’t regret this!”

Douglas left the room exhilarated and was heard down the hall screaming “yahoo.” This gave more fuel to the flame of envy that burned in Jonathan’s gut. He had been arranging his closet and clothes during their conversation. There was a marked difference between how Miss Lillian had set Harlan’s clothes and how Jonathan threw his clothes onto the shelf. While taking some bric-a-brac out of his suitcase, he started his tormenting.

“Well, what is this world coming to? When a fine outstanding white American citizen, son of a bank president, will stand up for a n*gg*r?

Harlan just rolled his eyes and tried not to pay attention, but by rolling his eyes, he just made Jonathan more vicious. This is when Jonathan grabbed his face with the palm of his hand and squeezed tightly on Harlan’s jawbone. This was when Harlan realized how enormous Jonathan’s hands were. Harlan’s skull was tiny in comparison, and he felt like Jonathan could crush his face if he squeezed just a little tighter.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, black boy, you hear me; you hear me! I will knock your f*cking face in. You hear me!”

“I hear you.”

“Now, you tell me you’re sorry.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Then Jonathan released his jaw with such force that Harlan’s neck cracked.

“Aow,” exclaimed Harlan.

Harlan knew that going to the university and being the first black person would be problematic. Still, he had no conception that it would be like this. He had always imagined the people in the university were refined and educated. They would innately know right from wrong, see the injustices in our society, and try to level the playing field. He also realized that being put into a room with Jonathan was not at all chance. It was a calculated move, for if there was one thing that white America hated more than blacks, it was poor wh*te tr*sh. At that moment, Harlan realized that he and Jonathan had been put together, for they probably were both quite unwanted at the University. This incident brought him to another decision; he had to try to get into the fraternity.

Right now, he was still taken aback by the brutality of living with Jonathan. Jonathan kept staring at Harlan, much like his father had stared at him when he was a little boy. And when Jonathan started up his conversation again, Harlan realized how much like his father he was.

“You sure are pretty for a black boy. How did you get so pretty? You must be half-n*gger.”

Harlan thought that remaining silent must be the best thing to do. But he was wrong.

“Did you hear me talking to you, black boy?” He grabbed Harlan by the hair.

“Yes, I heard you.”

At this point, there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” Harlan said. As Douglas opened the door, Jonathan released Harlan’s hair, and Douglas caught a slight glimpse of the action. There was obvious tension in the air. Behind Douglas were about a half-dozen frat brothers, one of them being Douglas’ cousin, Brett, who was already in his junior year.

“Is everything all right here?” Douglas asked.

“Yeah, fine. You’re back early.”

“Well, I went over to the frat house, and I was talking with the guys, and I told them all about you. And they wanted to meet you. This is my cousin Brett, he’s in his junior year, and he belongs to the fraternity, and he says he’ll even sponsor you as a pledge.”

Harlan heard cries of “Come on, Harlan.” It wasn’t hard for Harlan to decide anything would be better than living with Jonathan.

“All right, I’ll do it.”

Upon his decision was a big cheer from the six in the hall.

“Come on, we’ve gotta be at the frat house by 3:00.”

Harlan was relieved to get out of the dormitory. It was the first time in a long time that he had been so terrorized by anybody. And walking through that dormitory door, surrounded by what seemed to be friends, was a great relief for Harlan. When he got to the frat house, he could not believe his welcome. People gathered around him and wanted to know what he knew. They ask him about his painting, his piano playing, and what he wanted to do at school. What strange and wondrous people these were. They seem to come from a different world in a different time. Not one of them asked him about his color or made any issue of it. He knew at that moment that he belonged in the fraternity.

“My little brat cousin says that you play the piano.” Said Brett.

“That’s right, replied Harlan.”

“He says you taught yourself.”

“Pretty much so.”

“How does someone teach himself how to play the piano?” Brett said in amazement.

“I picked up a couple of books at the library, they had quite a bit about music theory, and then there was another one that concentrated on fingering. I just read and applied the method, and it worked.”

“Yeah, it works if you’re a genius!”

“My name’s Jim Dalton, another young man with light brown hair and green eyes said. I’m in charge of the Alpha Lambda Delta Follies. Usually, we do some type of parody of a Broadway show and campus politics. We steal songs from hit shows and change the lyrics. Can you write music?”

“It happens sometimes,” Harlan said with a smile.

“Do you have any stuff already?”

“I have a few songs I have written.”

“Harlan, let me introduce you to Mr. Piano. Would you mind playing a couple?”

Harlan was genuinely excited. He felt right in his environment; people were asking him to show his talents and wanted to use those talents. So he took out his best. He’d written a satire on the Eisenhower administration. He had done it in the style of Gilbert and Sullivan. He sat down at the piano like a real pro, explained the song's context, and started playing and singing.

The name of the song was to be a proper president.

To be a proper president, I had to be a resident,

A kind and gentle-hearted man,

A fine upstanding citizen.

I had to know my P's and Q’s,

Update them with my social views,

Acquaint them with my etiquette,

My Pronoun and my predicate.

And when questioned on the subject

Never was I hesitant,

And that is what it takes

To be a truly proper president.

The way Harlan impersonated Eisenhower during the song was truly fantastic. Everyone laughed and doted on his talent. So, enthralled were they with the fact that he played piano, wrote witty lyrics, and sang well too, that everyone had forgotten that they were supposed to go through a pledging ceremony. It was now 9:00 in the evening, and Harlan was still playing and singing. Everybody was singing with him when Brett remarked that the time had slipped by and that they needed to get on with the pledging ceremony.

“All the new pledges line up in front of the stairway,” declared Alan Fisler, president of the fraternity. “All of the members of the fraternity on the stairs behind me. Pledges, I will call up your names one by one. Voting members, I will ask for the ayes and the nays; then I shall count the votes for you or against you. First pledge, Robert Jenkins, members say aye.”

More than half the hands went up for the ayes.

“How many members say nay?” The ayes have it. William Sorensen, How many members say aye? How many members say nay? The ayes have it.”

Douglas and Harlan were among the last to be voted upon. It was clear that Douglas would be accepted, for his cousin was already a member. When it came to Harlan, he had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. Everything had gone too well for the last few hours. Maybe all this kindness was just a set up to a cruel joke. They made him feel good, so they could turn around and reject him. But then his question was, if this were so, was Douglas a part of it? The moment came when it was time to vote on Harlan.

“Harlan Johnson,” Alan cried out, “How many votes aye?” It was unanimous Harlan was accepted by everybody. He could not believe it when everyone raised their hand “aye.” He was still waiting for the joke. He was still waiting for someone to say, “I changed my mind. I don’t want him in our club,” but it never happened. And in that moment, his fears of being rejected all but vanished.

“Pledges, you will be shown your rooms; at 8:00 sharp tomorrow morning, then starts the week of hazing. For the week of hazing, you shall be our slaves. You will do everything the senior members tell you to do. Nothing will be, can be, or shall be asked, and from this moment on, you shall address all senior members as ‘Sir.’ Do you understand?”

All the pledges, including Harlan, fell into the trap by responding yes. And Alan, with great joy on his face, screamed, “Yes, what?” Whereupon, all the new pledges responded, “Yes, Sir!”

Douglas went over to his cousin and started discussing something with him. Harlan wanted to join him but was overwhelmed by other members coming up and asking him questions. At one moment, Harlan saw Douglas pointing to him. In the back of his mind, he thought they’re going to do it. They’re going to tell me it’s all a joke that I don’t belong to the fraternity. He saw Brett shake his head as if he and Douglas were agreeing; Harlan’s heart sunk. He was sure that Douglas would come bearing bad news. As Douglas approached him, his heart started to beat. He saw Douglas wanted to say something to him but was terribly afraid of what it was.

“Harlan,” Douglas said with an earnest look on his face, “Brett and some of the other senior members want to talk to you. You want to come with me?”

“Sure,” Harlan said with a half worried smile. “What’s up?”

“They just want to talk to you about a few things.”

“Do you know what it’s about?”

“Yeah, but they’ll explain everything to you.”

As they approach their destination, Harlan saw all the senior members of the fraternity standing one behind each other, waiting to talk to him. He was terribly afraid that the cruel joke was about to start.

“Harlan,” Alan said, “We want you to understand one thing. You are a full member of this fraternity, and we’re all brothers. And brothers stick up for one another. We heard that you’re having some problems at the dorm. If anything goes wrong while you are at this school, if anybody says anything out of line, you tell us, and we’ll take care of it. Do you understand?”

Harlan could not believe his ears. All of his fears were truly conquered. He felt a great sense of belonging like he had never felt before. “Yes,” he said timidly.

“Yes, what, pledge?” Alan said half-seriously, half-joking.

“Oh, excuse me, yes, sir,” Harlan responded.

“OK,” Alan said, “The other members can fallout. Upon this, the other members dispersed in different directions going to different parts of the frat house, their rooms, the dining room. Harlan started to leave and heard,

“I’m not through with you, pledge.”

“Sorry, sir,” Harlan responded.

“I hear you are having problems at the dorm. I think it’s best that you go get your stuff and come back and sleep here tonight.”

“I think I’ll be all right for tonight,” Harlan replied.

“I don’t think you understand pledge. It wasn’t a suggestion; it was an order. You sleep here tonight.”

“Yes, sir.” Harlan snapped with a smile on his face.

“And a couple of the guys are going back with you to help you bring your stuff back. Did you get that pledge?”

“Yes, sir,” he snapped again.

“Rick, John, and Jim go with Harlan and help him bring his stuff back.”

As they were leaving, Douglas said, “I’ll go with you guys.”

When they got back to the dorm, they open up the door to Harlan’s room. It reeked of cigarette smoke and beer already. Jonathan was lying on the bed, fully clothed with his shoes on, reading a comic book. He didn’t notice that Harlan wasn’t alone. Therefore, he blurted out:

“Finally back n*gg*r boy? Sure took’em a long time to turn you down.”

John, who was also on the football team, stepped in after Harlan,

“You got a problem, bubba?”

Bubba was the derogatory word for an Okie at the school. When Jonathan heard this, he got up into a fighting position; that’s when he saw the other boys who had accompanied Harlan.

“Hey guys,” he said, “what’re you doing here?”

“We just came to help Harlan pick up his stuff, so he can move to the frat house.”

“I can’t believe you took in one of them. Are you guys a bunch of n*gg*r lovers?”

The guys look back and forth at each other, some of them shaking their heads.

“Let’s just get his stuff and get out of here. This place stinks; it’s got a typical bubba smell.”

At this point, Jonathan jumped off the bed, stood face-to-face with John, and bucked John’s chest a little. But when he did this, Jonathan realized that his adversary was a little bigger than he was. And if Jonathan was anything, he was indeed a coward. It was easy to fight his opponent when they were much smaller than he. However, when the match was closer to being even, Jonathan rarely went through with any of his usual threats.

John just stared Jonathan in the eyes then growled, “You've got three seconds to get out of my face, bubba! Then I’m going to rip you apart.”

For a few seconds, Jonathan didn’t budge. John stood his ground, but by running his fingers through his hair, Jonathan flinched and then backed away. Then John turned around to waive the guys into the room, and they started packing Harlan’s stuff. After they had packed everything, they began to leave. Everyone had left except for John. As he was leaving, he turned around and addressed Jonathan.

“I’ve got some news for you, bubba. Harlan belongs to my fraternity, and nobody messes with anybody from my fraternity. Do you get that?”

Jonathan just lay on the bed, ignoring John by reading his comic book and sipping on his beer. This angered John, so he went over to the bed, picked up Jonathan, and threw him against the wall. I ask you a question, Bubba. Do you get that?”

“Yeah, I get it.”

John let go of him and started out the door.

"By the way, if we do have any problems with you, I’m the captain of the football team, and I know you’re on the team, and the team will take care of you. I hope you get it for your own sake. Then John shut the door and left with the rest of the boys.”

Harlan was content to be moving into the frat house. They showed him into his attic room, where the beds were set up for the pledges. John came up to see him. He sat on the bed opposite Harlan’s and spoke to him as if he were his older brother.

“Is everything OK?”

“Yeah, pretty much so.”

“You can’t pay any attention to guys like that. I know his type. They are all bark and no bite.”

“Yeah, but if that’s true, then their bark can hurt as much as their bite.”

“If he ever bothers you again, you let me know. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, I hear you. You know what you’re like? You’re like Little John in Robin Hood.”

And from that point on, the name stuck; everyone would call John, Little John. After the conversation had finished and John went downstairs, Harlan lay on his bed thinking about Douglas. He thought about how quickly one can make a good friend. He had had friends in high school, and most of them were white. However, he’d known them since grammar school and felt that they liked him because they had always known him. He had always feared going out into the world. He knew that he had a significant handicap being black. Could everything be so easy he thought? He had heard so many terrible things about the outside world, and he knew that his aunt and mother had protected him from racism and that they had enough money to do so. And in one short day, his fears had been proven once and disproved twice. For the moment, he thought the good certainly outweighed the bad. The one enemy he had was undoubtedly overshadowed by the dozens of frat brothers who were standing behind him. That thought was so comforting that he slept as if he were sleeping in his own bed at home.

friendship
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Michael Lee Tucker

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