Harvest of Expectations Ch. 11

"I'll be pretty busy next year," Jim said. "I've already got my thesis assignment—and it's not easy. I have courses on top of that and they want me to be a Teaching Assistant for an undergrad course, as well. I'm also going to be a Research Assistant for Professor Stark and I have to prep for the first part of the Professional Engineer's exam."

"Jim, can you handle all that?" his father asked.

"I'll have to, Dad. It's what Douglas is expecting of me. I think they're trying to see if I've got the stuff to handle it. Anyway, the research with Professor Stark ties in to my thesis, so that will help."

His father let out a breath and shook his head.

"Well, you won't have to worry about the track team. That will save you some time."

"And I'll have some money and a new car, so that will take away a few worries. It won't be easy, but I'll do it."

Jim's mother set a cake on the table and began slicing wedges from it and putting it on little plates.

"It's almost unbelievable," his father said. "You worked hard for five years to get this. You deserve it Jim."

Jim shook his head.

"Not really, Dad. There are a lot of guys that could have deserved it just as much. I was lucky. I had some special people behind me. My whole education was like a gift-wrapped present set on a table in front of me. All I had to do was untie the bow and be careful of what was inside. Now it's up to me to do what I have to."

"Now, Jim," his father said, "you don't..."

"I wouldn't have said it, Dad, if I didn't believe it."

Jim's father looked stunned, which was something that Jim hadn't seen many times.

"I—I just remembered—there's something I have to check on out in the garage," his father said.

Jim's father rose from his chair and made his way to the door that led outdoors.

"It meant a lot to your father to hear you say that," Jim's mother said, "and to me, too, of course. But Jim, don't be afraid to take some credit for yourself. You deserve it. Your father and I and even Professor Stark are just the supporting cast. You're the star of the show at this moment."

"I meant what I said, Ma."

"I know you did, Jim, and I think that makes me even more proud than your big news tonight. But you should think about what I said. There's plenty of credit to go around for all of us, so go ahead and take a helping of it."

"Okay, Ma, I'll remember."

His mother paused for a second and Jim knew she had something else on her mind.

"Are you going to tell Hildy the news tomorrow?" she asked.

"Of course, Ma."

"She'll be so happy, Jim."

"She might not be happy when she finds out how much attention I'll have to pay to my work and how little time I'll have to pay attention to her."

"She'll understand—I know she will. She'll be happy because you will have a whole year to work things out. When will we get to meet her?"

Jim knew that he should have expected to be grilled by his mother on the 'Hildy question', but it took him by surprise.

"Maybe I should go see what Dad's doing,' Jim said.

"I'm right here," his father said, standing in the doorway. "So, when are we going to meet this young lady?"

"Maybe sooner than you think. I was going to tell you later."

He took two tickets out of his wallet and placed them near his father's place at the table.

"Here are your tickets to the track meet next Saturday," Jim said.

"Okay, but what's that got to do..."

"I also bought three tickets for Hildy and her parents," Jim explained. "I wanted Hildy to have the chance to see me compete once before I hang 'em up and I thought it might be a good way to patch things up with her father—sort of two birds with one stone"

"So, we're going to sit with them?" his mother asked.

"Not necessarily, it's open seating in the stadium and I won't have a chance to see anyone before the meet starts. If it's okay, I thought we could have dinner afterward."

Jim's mother and father looked at one another.

"Do you mind?" Jim asked. "We can skip it if you want to. I just didn't know how else to arrange it—and it's not what you're thinking. It's just a way to sort out the logistics because I'll have two sets of guests."

"I guess so,' his father said. "How's your wrist?"

"I think it will be okay. If it's not, I'll just have to scratch from the meet. It would have to be pretty bad for me to do that."

***********************

Jim was waiting in the parking lot of the park near her home where they had their rained-out picnic not many weeks before. He was surprised that she was late, the park being only about a mile from her parents' home.

He turned on the radio and the station was playing a song called "Waterloo" by a new group called ABBA. He was having a hard time understanding the words.

"A group from Sweden singing in English about a battle in Belgium. I don't get it. This group will never go very far."

He turned off the radio and saw Hildy's car just coming into the parking lot in his rear view mirror. She parked her car next to his and hopped out holding a picnic basket and a bag from the grocery store.

"Sorry I'm late. I had to go to the store to buy something to drink. It was hard to find a grocery store open on Sunday."

Jim walked over to her and took the grocery bag from her.

"I'm glad to see you, Hildy."

She blushed and then kissed him. .

"Let's find a picnic table and sit down," he said.

It was a warm, pleasant Sunday in late May. There were a few families using some of the tables in the park. There was one that was a little bit separated from the rest. Hildy headed for that one and Jim followed her. She spread out a table cloth and took some sandwiches and some other things from her basket. There was a quart of lemonade and a bag of chips in the grocery bag. Hildy arranged it all on the cloth and they sat down at the table.

"I was surprised when you called me. I made these this morning so we wouldn't have to buy something at a restaurant. That's why I told you to meet me here," Hildy gushed.

"It's all real nice, Hildy," Jim said.

"There's a hiking trail over there," Hildy said. "I thought that after we eat we could go for a walk."

"A long walk or a short one?" Jim asked.

Hildy's eyes became brighter.

"Maybe a short walk for a long time," she answered back.

"We could skip lunch and just do the walk."

"Not a chance," Hildy answered. "What you see here is my culinary ability at its highest power, so you had better enjoy it."

"Even the lemonade?"

"Well, I picked it out. It could have been the pink kind, but I thought natural was best," Hildy said.

"Hildy, I asked you to see me today because I have something to tell you. I got a job offer from Douglas Chemical and I accepted it."

Hildy stopped eating and set down her sandwich; her jaw dropped open.

"Finally! When did you find out?"

"On Friday afternoon," Jim told her. "They showed up in Professor Stark's office with papers and I signed them. It's a good offer."

"I'm glad for you, Jim," Hildy said. "It's everything you've been working for. When do you start?

"June 10, but I'll have to be out there the week before that. I'll have to take a physical and a few other things. Then..."

"Out where?" Hildy asked.

"Central City, Michigan. That's where Douglas is headquartered. Then I've got to..."

"I see," Hildy said, "we don't have much time..."

"No, Hildy, I haven't finished. This isn't the usual type of job offer. I'm just going to be in Michigan for June, July and half of August. It's a kind of orientation. Then the company wants me to come back to Campbell for a year to do my Masters. I'll be back August 19."

"I've never heard of anything like this," Hildy said.

"I never had, either. It's beyond anything I ever dared to expect. If I work for them for five years, they won't even ask me to repay my tuition for the Masters Program. While I'm in school they'll pay me a living allowance. They're even going to arrange for me to get a new car. So, you can take a last look at the Rustmobile."

Hildy drank down a few swallows of her of lemonade.

"This is unbelievable. We'll have a whole year to be together."

"That's right, and then..."

"My offer still stands," she said.

"We discussed that already, Hildy. But I thought that we could use this year to sort things out. And then a year from now if things are the same between us we could..."

"Yes!" Hildy squealed. "We'll do it. They won't be the same. They'll be even better."

Jim finished his sandwich and took a gulp of lemonade.

"Anyway, Hildy, that's the news and that's what I was thinking. I thought you'd like to know."

"Like to know? You must be kidding. I'm ready to burst."

"But listen, next year won't be a cakewalk for us. I'll have an even bigger workload than this year."

"You can do it," Hildy said. "You can do anything you set your mind to do."

"For sure, I'm going to do it," Jim replied, "but there might be times when I don't have the time for you that I'd like to have."

"Just let me know if I get in the way and I'll buzz off," she said "as long as I can buzz right back on again later."

Hildy was laughing and Jim knew it was no use to make her think of sobering thoughts.

"I didn't forget your birthday," Jim said.

"It's not for another month."

"I'll be in Michigan then, and besides this present is time sensitive."

He reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out a small envelope and then handed it to her. Hildy tore the envelope open.

"They're tickets to the Conference Championships next Saturday," Jim explained. "I wanted you to have a chance to witness me make a fool of myself in public for the last time."

"No one would ever call you a fool, Jim. It's a nice gift. Why three tickets?"

"I thought you could bring your father and mother. Maybe they would enjoy it. I know it's only a track meet. I thought it would be a way for your father and me to bury the hatchet. Maybe we got off to the wrong start. I'm hoping this might turn things around."

Hildy's eyes were glistening with tears.

"It's one of the nicest presents I ever got," she said

"It was that or a hat, scarf and glove set—but I got you that already, so the tickets will have to do."

Hildy was smiling as she dried her eyes. Her smile made him wonder if the tickets were more a present for him than for her, but he knew that she liked it.

"There's a catch I have to tell you," Jim said. "My parents are coming down, too, and I have to spend some time with them. I'll have two sets of guests and I don't want to give either the short end. So, I thought we could all have dinner somewhere after the meet."

"I've never met your parents."

"I know it's going to be awkward at first. But it will be fine. I think some good will come of it."

"I'll have to tell my parents about the dinner ahead of time. It wouldn't be fair to surprise them with something like that."

"Of course," Jim said.

"Let's clean up and go on that walk," Hildy said

They packed the gear in the picnic basket and threw the papers in a trash can that was nearby then stowed the basket in Hildy's car.

Hildy pointed to where the trail started and wove her arm around Jim's. As they walked along he could feel her pressing her body against his. It was a nice feeling and it made him remember that he hadn't thought about his problem in a while.

She pressed against him even closer. They nearly stumbled.

"Hildy," he laughed as he reminded her, "don't forget there are children in this park right now."

*********************

Jim was back in his apartment. It was about ten in the evening. Rich was with Chelsea—it was her last evening on campus before summer break. He had been thinking about the picnic with Hildy and had been doing some reading and listening to music. All around him were boxes in which Rich had begun to pack up his things. Even the frat lodge was deserted until next fall.

He sat at the kitchen table, got out some paper and started making some sketches, brainstorming a thesis on improving the Isocyanate Production Process. He was writing questions in the margin. He decided that in the morning he would get up early, go to the campus, do his workout and then get some treatment for his wrist. After that, he would go to the Engineering Library and find some information that would give him a better start.

"Maybe I should understand what I'm improving before I start to improve it."

He started thinking about Hildy again and how happy she'd been when he gave her the tickets.

"I hope I wasn't reaching too far when I got the tickets for her parents."

He decided that it was something of an overreach but it was done and it was the thought that counted, anyway. Besides, he was riding a winning streak. So, why not go for it?

He was thinking about that, and about getting some early shut-eye when the phone rang.

Hildy:"Jim, it's Hildy."

Jim"Hi, Hildy, I was just thinking about you. What's up?"

Hildy:"It's my father, Jim. He refuses to go to the track meet on Saturday. At first, he said he would go, but then he changed his mind.

Jim:Is it because he doesn't like Track and Field? I understand that but it's the only..."

Hildy:"No, that's not it. I told him you got the tickets as a kind of peace offering. I knew right away that he didn't like it, but then my mother talked to him and he agreed. Then I think it grated on him and he told me he wouldn't go.

Jim:"Maybe it's because of my parents..."

Hildy:"It never got that far. I never had a chance to tell him. Anyway, I know my mother won't go without him. He told me he doesn't want me to go, either."

Jim:Well, Hildy, it's your choice and..."

Hildy:"But I am going, just the same. I'll drive myself, or maybe I'll take Darlene."

Jim:You can come with my parents. I'll call them tomorrow and they'll pick you up at your parents' house. I'll give them directions. I'll call you at Darlene's tomorrow and give you the details.

Hildy:"I can't ask..."

Jim:"Don't worry. It's on their way, anyway. My mother will enjoy spending the day with you. She'll enjoy that more than the track meet."

****************

Campbell belonged to the Mid-Atlantic Athletic Conference, which included such schools as Campbell, Lehigh, Lafayette, Colgate and some others. It so happened that it was Campbell's turn in the rotation to host the conference Track and Field Championships in 1974. Win or lose, Jim knew it was going to be the final track meet of his athletic career.

He had been a standout athlete in high school, but at the higher level he had never quite made it to the high echelons of his sport. He and George Murray, a friend and another athlete on the team, competed throughout the season for the number two and three spots among the Campbell vaulters. Once in a while Jim would pick up a second or third place. Campbell had another vaulter who was favored to win the Conference Championship.

Jim was standing in the Pole Vault area watching his competitors continuing their warm ups. He did some stretching but was afraid of putting too much pressure on his injured wrist. He still had at least ten minutes before his next turn. George Murray came up to him.

"Sorry about your third miss, George," Jim said.

"Off day," George replied.

"You've got next year to make up for it."

"That was a big risk you took, passing the bar to sixteen-ten," George said.

"My wrist won't give me very many attempts," Jim replied. "The next one may be my last."

"That will be at seventeen-two."

"That's equal to my all-time best," Jim said. "I don't dare pass that."

Jim looked at the scoring chart. Most of the vaulters were either out or missing at seventeen-two. Third place was boiling down to Jim and a senior from Lehigh.

"I've got a good chance if I can clear seventeen-two," Jim said to George. "If we both miss, I'll lose because the guy from Lehigh has only one miss at sixteen-six and I have two."

"Campbell number thirty-nine," the judge called out.

"You're up," George said and slapped Jim on the back. "Give 'em hell."

Jim picked up his pole and stepped to the line. He thought of looking up to the stands to see if his parents and Hildy were watching.

"That cost me a miss at sixteen-six," he reminded himself. "I was more worried about what was going on in the stands than my pole position."

So, Jim kept his mind on his job. He picked up his pole and stood at the line. His wrist ached and there was something else that began after his last vault that he hadn't felt before—a sort of tingling feeling extending from the base of the hand to the elbow.

"Just give them a minute to re-arrange the landing cushions," the judge said.

"Just swing that foot up extra-hard after you launch."

He was hoping that the extra lower body action would make up for the arm strength he was losing on account of his injury.

"Ready?" the judge asked.

Jim nodded.

"This could be my last one ever."

The pit judge held up a green flag. Jim gripped his pole and began the approach run. He started slow at first, pole pointed forward at forty-five degrees, then accelerated down the approach, counting his strides.

"One—two—three..."

On the tenth stride he began to lower the pole and by the twentieth stride he had it planted in the box and had launched himself off the ground. He knew it was a good plant. He swung his trail leg up. It all felt like it was supposed to.

Jim pulled down with his arms to swing his body up and get the maximum bend from the pole. There was a sudden and severe stab of pain in his wrist. It felt like it was tearing.

"Just get me through this one, last vault."

He ignored the pain in his wrist and pulled down harder. The next thing he knew he was floating backwards toward the landing cushions, looking at the bar still resting on the standards. He lay in the pit for a moment looking up at the bar. He had done it—his best vault ever and probably his last.

"I should have passed to seventeen-six. I would have cleared it."

There was much pain in his wrist but he forced himself not to grasp it with his other hand, wince or cry out. As he returned to the start line George came up to meet him. He took the pole from Jim's good hand.

"Pretty good vault," he said. "You ruined your wrist on that one didn't you?"

"I'm afraid that I did," Jim answered. "I'm trying not to show it."

"I can tell by the way you're carrying your pole," George explained. "Besides, you let out a pretty good yelp on your pull-down."

"I didn't realize that. I was trying not to. Anyway, there's no way I can jump again. But I'm not going to scratch myself until the Lehigh guy clears the height. I don't want him to know that he can get third on his next vault. Let him work for it."

"A lot of things can happen," George agreed.

George was correct. If the Lehigh man cleared the height on his first try, as Jim had, he would take third place because Jim would be unable to go to the next height. Even if he failed at the higher level, the determination would be on the basis of fewest misses and Jim had two and the Lehigh vaulter only one.

"What do you think are your chances?" George asked.

"Tough to say," Jim said. "I don't know this guy from Lehigh very well. We'll find our soon enough."

The Lehigh vaulter stood at the start line with his hands coated with rosin. He began his approach. He planted his pole in the pit and Jim had his eye on the bar as the vaulter went into the air. It appeared that his foot nicked the bar as he went over. Jim expected the bar to fall, but it did not. The pit judge waited five seconds and then held up the green flag. It was a good vault and Jim had lost.

"We'll go on to seventeen-six," the judge said.

Jim walked over to him.

"Sir, I have to scratch. I injured my wrist on my last vault."