Learning Curves

Sometimes the accidental Great Adventure influences what we know of life. One of my adventures occurred in college. I was a Resident Assistant of a dormitory floor, with around twenty-six girls under my auspices. Most of them were younger than me by a year, and I saw my role as more of a listening ear than as a disciplinarian.

One night sometime after curfew, there was a knock on my door. The girls had brought back the Phoenix* and The Spellantics*—how could they sneak them into their rooms?

I'd been dimly aware that the girls were going to the concert, but I didn't know much about The Phoenix, nor The Spellantics. Yet as a die-hard fan of Stevie Nicks, Journey, and Bob Seger, I did realize the importance of the Great Adventure the girls were on. I was groggy from cold medicine, so I blithely said, "Let them in the fire exit, I guess," and went back to bed to nurse my cold.

The fire exit was one flight of stairs beneath our floor. (Restaurants have these doors, with signs that read Alarm Will Sound If Opened). The sound of the door opening, the fire alarm jangling, and then the metal door slamming to silence the alarm as the male visitor sprinted away hardly bothered anyone because these eruptions were so frequent. Since the door could be used all day as a regular exit, it clanged closed all the time anyway sans alarm.

But all was quiet after the girls left my room. I fell asleep—only to be awakened again early the next morning.

"Come see them!" the girls told me. "Come see Josh Fearsome of The Phoenix!"

I would have hated to admit that I didn't know what the man looked like (and do not know now, even after his passing), so I went with them to peer in a room. I saw a crumpled blanket over someone sleeping on the floor. (I assume that was Mr. Fearsome. It could have been a Spellantic. Or a groupie). The girls were giggling, having the best time, so I shook my head and went back to my room.

Some may wonder why I didn't write the girls up for this. To be honest, it never occurred to me, although no visitors were allowed in the rooms past curfew. I rarely wrote the girls up for anything. They were mischievous and fun, but so cute and loving that it was hard to get onto them for minor adventures. (This attitude was a precursor to my parenting skills, had I only but known it).

Besides, the RA's got into their share of shenanigans. A few of the male RA's jammed the lock on the door of some female basketball players so they couldn't get out. Those players were bigger than the male RA's, and when they finally got out of their room, they went looking for them! And I was no saint myself, sneaking one starry midnight into the top level of the stadium with friends, drinking beer and flipping the tops over the railing to the ground below to hear them land with a clink!

The girls were respectful of my position, though they played the typical jokes on me. I would leave my phone out in the hall, stretched long by its cord, when I went visiting their rooms. One afternoon my phone rang and I went shooting down the hall to answer it. I got the shaving-cream-in-the-ear trick, amidst great gales of giggles. (It was pretty funny; they got me fair and square). And as I was going up the back stairwell one night, there was one of my girls sneaking her Golden retriever up to her room. Busted, she looked at me with big eyes. I said, "I didn't see that," and kept walking.

Those who know me will bet I didn't last the night without slipping in to visit her golden baby. I'm sure I didn't last the hour. That was not the first of the furry friend's visits, and perhaps began my love affair with the Golden retriever. I have a rescue retriever now. Sticklers will say I should have written her up, but the dog eased her homesickness and other girls' as well. So I looked the other way.

By now perhaps you're thinking that I was a pretty crappy Resident Assistant, and no doubt that was the conclusion the school came to when they learned that there had been a Great Adventure on our floor. (I suppose keeping it secret that the Phoenix and the Spellantics had been there was too much to expect).

The university wanted heads to roll, and called my girls in to find out who had told them to use the fire exit?

Unbeknownst to students in the building, using that door all weekend long was a fire code violation, and not just against dorm rules. They dragged the girls in time after time to find out who had been the chief architect of the plan, but the girls never ratted on me. I was called in, and I said I didn't hear the fire alarm go off. (I'd had my TV on, my ears were clogged from my cold, and frankly, I wouldn't have noticed one alarm from all the others. I was numb to the sound after nearly two semesters).

But it became clear that the university was out to suspend the girls if they didn't tell who'd struck the Bright Idea. I puzzled what they were so worked up about, and began to understand that they were embarrassed that some of their students had smuggled in rock stars.

Not able to bear that my girls would be suspended for something I considered pointless, I resigned. The university seemed satisfied that someone had been tossed to the wolves, and I moved into a better dorm where my roommate never showed up, and kindly left a refrigerator. This meant my grandmother could stay with me for days at a stretch, and put her bottles of Scotch for her nighttime toddies in the fridge. I think this was the only time I ever saw hard liquor consumed inside a dormitory. Many of the girls visited me often, and there was never a time I regretted quitting. We partied together, and nothing felt different except that now I could be in on the fun.

Fast forward more than twenty years. My daughter was in high school and struggling with history. The teacher, who I can honestly say was probably the worst teacher in the school and was later fired, did one good thing: Assigned students who wanted extra credit to go listen to a famous Egyptologist at a local university. My uncle and one of my fathers had graduated from this university, and I'd never been there, so I took my freshman daughter and my nine-year-old son. We were spellbound by the stories that the Egyptologist told, but what sticks out in my memory is someone asking him how he knew that he wanted to spend his days digging in dusty ruins. He said, "I uncovered my first mummy, and when I looked into her eyes, I knew this was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life."

Imagine knowing at once what you were born to do! Your passion revealed in the blink of an eye! I can imagine him in a hot dark tomb, staring into the eyes of a painted sarcophagus, recognizing his destiny. Mr. Fearsome has passed on to the rock band in the sky, but he probably grinned every once in a while when he remembered that he'd been in the company of some of the nicest, cutest girls on earth. I still smile about it, kind of proudly, something like an Egyptologist looking into the eyes of the past, maybe like Bruce Springsteen being born to run. And who knows? One day, these great adventures may even end up inside the pages of a really rocking book.

Good movie trips: THE CURIOUS CASE OF BENJAMIN BUTTON. We rented this movie and enjoyed it! It's long, so grab your popcorn. Then read the original story by F. Scott Fitzgerald, written in the 1920's. The movie doesn't really follow the book but it's fun to see where the idea originated. STAR TREK, even for us non-Trekkies, was good family viewing—and then for a trip down nostalgia lane (R- rated--older "kids" only), the fam rented ANIMAL HOUSE. Hard to believe the movie is now over thirty years old. John Belushi, in his first starring role, is a hoot when he imitates a zit.

Lovely books: PRAYER, by O. Hallesby for inspiration on learning to pray.

Excellent words: Isn't it splendid to think of all the things there are to find out about? It just makes me feel glad to be alive—it's such an interesting world.—Lucy Maud Montgomery, Canadian author of ANNE OF GREEN GABLES

Comment any time during the month of July to be eligible for the drawing of three five-dollar Amazon e-certs, chosen by Fresh Fiction! Best of luck to all the students beginning a new year of college next month—discover a passion for learning! Until next time, Tina Leonard

*The names of the rockers and bands have been changed to protect the innocent. ;)

Tina Leonard has a publishing history of more than forty projects. With sales of over a million books, she is also a Bookscan and Waldenbooks bestselling author. Tina enjoys family, friends, researching projects, and a good glass of wine when she's not on deadline. She is looking forward to her November release, A COWBOY FROM CHRISTMAS PAST.