Check back every week for a new instalment of the Climate Wars.
Laughter and hands tugging at his body woke Lucas from a dream filled with demons and pixies. Lucas’ limbs refused to obey his mind. His drug altered brain darting between reality and the surreal. His eyelids heavy, opening to reveal a pair of slits, the sudden assault of daylight setting the nerves to his brain on fire.
The tugging continued. Lucas willed his body to move. Forcing his eyes to open wider he watched. His eyes recorded the scene; his brain failed to connect the actions. He groggily turned his head, a hand was being pried open, and a small plastic bag was wrestled free.
Too slowly Lucas realized that his hand was the one opening. What’s in the bag his distorted brain wondered? Then other hands rolled him over. His face smothered in the dry park grass. More hands pulled and tugged. He felt pressure. Something slipped out of his pocket. More laughter and talking, an object bounced off his back. His brain shut down. Blackness.
“Are you alright mister?” Lucas felt his body shake. This time, his eyes bolted open. Grass pressed against his eyes. He used his arm to roll his body over. On his back, he stared up into a darkening sky, the bright daylight that had seared his brain earlier now softened by a cloud-covered afternoon sky. Again the voice spoke to him.
“Are you alright? Would you like me to call an ambulance?” A young woman leaned over him; her face wrought with concern.
“Where am I?” Lucas inquired. From his position, he watched as crowds of men and women stepped around where he lay. The Legs of the people passing by brushed against him, looks of disgust on the faces of the people who bothered to glance down. Crude words, insults tossed his way.
“We’re in a park,” the young lady responded. “Here, let me help you up.” She gently placed her hand under Lucas’ shoulder and guided him into a sitting position. The two sat as the growing crowd streamed around.
“What’s going on?” Lucas asked turning his head to watch as people continued walking past.
“We better move,” the woman said as she again gently lifted, helping him to his feet and then supporting his weight as she fought against the masses, leading him to the nearby park table. Lucas placed a hand on the rough wooden top then slowly sat on the seat. The young lady hovered close by using her body to shield the two from the multitudes still entering the park.
Lucas’ body sat motionlessly, his head twisting and turning as more people approached. Some holding signs, others sporting backpacks and water bottles carrying banners. With the speed of molasses his numbed brain stumbled through a fog. Reality slowly returned. With some awareness, he remembered. He looked at his empty hands then panic set in. The plastic bag with the white powder, he must have dropped it.
Staggering, he launched into the sea of bodies to where he previously laid. On his hands and knees, he searched the ground.
“Get out of the way you drunken idiot!” People cursed as they stepped around his crouched form unhappy about having to change directions. Realizing the bag was gone Lucas unsteadily stood up bumping into several people. Someone shoved him. “You useless bum,” a man said to his face. The young woman rushed to his side again dragging him out of harms way.
“My stuff,” he cried, then he felt his pockets. His wallet was missing along with his car keys. He sank heavily back onto the park bench. Dejectedly Lucas sat on the bench. Memories began to filter back and with the memories a consuming anger of how he ended up passed out in the park.
The University and the weasily Chancellor, them images of his father staring down his nose at him, siding with the Chancellor. The longer Lucas dwelled, the greater the anger, the redder his face became. The young lady who stopped and offered assistance stood by cautiously watching.
“Are, are you all right,” she asked timidly. Lucas glared at her. His mind was slow to acknowledge the female staring back at him. Probably wants his money, he thought through the cobwebs of his mind. He snarled at her, she backed away, her eyes wide with fright. Then in a lucid moment, he stumbled over an apology and tried to stand.
“My wallet is gone. My car keys, too,” he offered.
“We should call the police,” Lucas’ new friend offered and began to dig in a fanny pack she wore around her waist. Lucas’ mind was catching up to speed. What would he tell the cops, that he drove his car while being drunk to a park to buy drugs and somewhere along the line he passed out, his possessions stolen.
“NO!” he yelled again frightening the woman. “No. It’ll be okay,” he said in a quieter voice. He changed the subject. “So, what is everyone doing here?” he asked again. “Sorry, I didn’t get your name,” he prodded.
“Alice,” She said. Her face brightened into a smile as she stuck out her hand. “We’re having a rally at city hall today. Well, it is to start this afternoon, but everyone knows that we will be here for days. We’ve come to demonstrate against the wealthy one percent and their disregard and destruction of the earth with the filthy fossil fuels they force upon the rest of us.”
Even in his altered state Lucas stood and looked over the crowd pouring across the grass from the parking lot. Cars were crammed in every space and flowed outlining the side streets as protesters locked the doors and joined the masses.
“Is that right,” he asked, a condescending smirk climbed onto his face. “What do you and your friends do,” he asked.
“I study at the university.” She spun her hand around. “Most of us are students,” she said proudly. “The man who is speaking today is a world famous environmentalist. He has been fighting the corporations on their greed and disregard for the environment for years.” She paused, “And what do you do…Mr.…. Oh, I am so sorry, I don’t know your name,” she added.
Lucas was about to pile his troubles on the hapless girl, explain his misfortune of being kicked out of school, how his father and the University Chancellor ganged and embarrassed him when he caught himself. He had been humiliated enough with his father’s abandonment and refusal to help. Anger at the unfair treatment from his father seized his soul. If it weren’t for his damn miserable old man than he certainly would not be in this situation, the self-centered bastard, Lucas fumed.
Lucas,” he spat out, “Nice to meet you, Alice.”
“You are welcome to join us,” she beamed. Lucas looked down at his stained t-shirt. “I must look a fright. I don’t think your friends will appreciate my attire,” he pulled on the front of his stained shirt wishing for the girl to leave him alone. Alice frowned and then thought for a moment, her head swiveling as she looked about the park.
“Come with me.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him along knifing through the crowd stopping at a large water fountain on display at the bottom of the steps leading into city hall.
“Give me your shirt,” she requested patiently waiting for him to pass the soiled t-shirt. Without hesitation, she spun and dunked the shirt under the cold fountain water. With her back to him, Lucas protested, but his words fell on deaf ears. Alice splashed the water as she scrubbed and worked the t-shirt.
Straightening up Alice passed an end of the shirt to Lucas. “Hold that,” she commanded as her hands held the other end and twisted the cloth tight ringing the excess water away. She shook the t-shirt and after a close inspection passed it back.
“That should work,” she said grimacing as he pulled the wet shirt over his head. “It might be a little wet still,” she laughed then with her fingers outstretched Alice ran them through Lucas’ hair straightening the tufts that stuck in every direction. Alice stood back and looked at Lucas. “Now you can join us. Don’t be afraid, we don’t bite,” she teased and latched onto his arm.
Alice led them to a spot off to the side of the steps. A place she had used before during other rallies similar this one. This isn't the first rally I’ve taken part in she confided. Alice chattered on while Lucas sat glumly and studied the growing assembly through bloodshot eyes. The two made small talk as the steps filled with signs and banners and teeming, milling crowds. Lucas watched uncaringly. He only remained because he had no other place to go and he had to figure out how to get his possessions back.
The smell of marijuana drifted in a cloud over the waiting mass.
Taking advantage of his new best friend Lucas hinted that he wouldn’t mind a joint. He pulled his empty pockets out showing he had nothing left on him. Alice smiled and excused herself. Lucas waited. He was about to go searching for her when she came bouncing out of the crowd. Turning her back to the crowd, Alice dug through her small pack, removed a bag and papers and quickly rolled a couple of joints.
In his stoned state Lucas sat back from the crowd as protester after protester grabbed a microphone and rehashed the same rhetoric as the speakers before, shouting and waving signs protesting against the contempt shown by the rich one percent toward their fellow man and Mother Nature.
Lucas sat tuning out the speakers until a chanting by the crowd caught his attention. Alice grabbed his arm and swooned like a schoolgirl. The main speaker for the demonstration took the microphone. The crowd grew frenzied and louder. The speaker worked the milling crowd into an uproar. The usual rhetoric spewed forward from his mouth, but his presentation moved the people.
Lucas' ears perked up as the speaker continued, he struggled to hear, but the noise of the demonstrators drown out the speakers voice. The outrage the crowd was building into and the large signs denouncing massive corporations bouncing in the air peaked his interest. Like a sign from above, he spotted a group unfurling a banner. The anti-oil banner had his father’s company name written in bold red, dripping letters over pictures of destroyed forests. In the middle of the flag was a large circle crossed with a line over the name of his father’s oil company.
Light flashed in Lucas’ head. His feeble brain interpreted the banner as a means to get even with his father. The embarrassment and humiliation he had suffered at his father’s hands were over. His old man wanted him to forge a path of his own, well, he would gladly oblige, and now he found a vehicle to direct his anger. Who better to shine a light on a greedy earth-consuming corporation then the man’s own son?
Lucas left Alice and pushed his way through the roiling masses; he had to meet the man on stage. For the first time in Lucas’ memory he found something to hold his interest other than booze and drugs. He found a cause, not only a cause but also a means to channel his anger toward the contempt and humiliation from his father. His drug addled brain sparked with possibilities.
It's finally here, the moment you've all be waiting for. The start of the Climate Wars! Check back every week to read a new instalment!
In their room, Donkey barely noticed Lucas slip in the door, the roommate’s mind deeply engrossed in a video game, the smoking butt of a joint leaning precariously in a pizza box. Lucas the 3rd staggered through piles of discarded clothes and trash spread over the room’s floor. The tendrils of smoke from the joint were catching his attention and causing him veer across the room in search of a roach clip.
The butt safely pinched in place, Lucas finished his friend’s forgotten smoke and crushed it out in the leftover pizza as he stood unsteadily gazing over Donkey’s shoulder at the violent video game.
“Hey! I was gonna finish that.” His friend cried. Lucas brushed away Donkey’s protest and plunked down on the couch.
“You got anything stronger?” Lucas asked. “After what dear old dad put me thru today I could use a pick me upper.”
“Yeah. Me too, this game is intense.” Donkey hit the pause button on his controller and swiveled in his chair facing the couch. “Ava,” he yelled toward a bedroom door. “Bring us a bag of the good stuff. In the bottom of the closet,” he instructed.
Donkey’s dulled red eyes lit up with excitement as he told his roommate of his latest acquisition. “A new batch came in today…wait until you try it.”
Lucas studied his friend from behind half closed eyelids. Donkey’s name certainly was appropriate he smiled to himself. Besides the awful braying laugh his roommate often demonstrated the guy was the primary source of drugs doled out across the campus. Mule would have been a much better nickname but too obvious.
Donkey’s girlfriend Ava stuck her half naked body out of the bedroom, called a warning and sent the bag of white powder sailing through the air toward the boys before disappearing back into the room. The bag dropped beside Donkey; his already poor eye-hand coordination decreased with the mix of narcotics he previously enjoyed causing him to completely miss the flying bag. Almost falling out of his chair he scooped up the bag and straightening up he smiled at Lucas with the bag proudly displayed in his raised hand.
“Tell me about your day, bro,” he said as he used his arm to clear a spot on the coffee table making room to cut a few lines of the white powder.
At the ungodly hour of nine a.m. Lucas was chased out of his stupor by a repeated banging on the dorm rooms door. A loud voice followed every knock.
“Lucas Pensworth. Open this door!” The angry voice called out. “I repeat. Open this door at once. This is Chancellor Dreyer.”
Lucas 3rd opened one eyelid, the pain in his head intense. The pounding at the door continued, growing louder. His head filled with explosions of pain as a blinding light filled his eyes.
“What,” he whimpered prying his bloodshot eyes open.
“OPEN THE DOOR!” The door rattled again. “LAST CHANCE.”
Lucas rolled off the couch where he had been sleeping. Placing his hand on the nearby coffee table he attempted to rise to his knees, his stomach protesting the movement.
“I’m coming in!” the Chancellor warned. A key turned in the door’s lock followed closely by the University Chancellor storming through the opening, a pair of university security guards entering close behind.
Lucas Pensworth gazed through a misty haze at the approaching men. Unsteadily he slowly rose then doubled over retching on the table and his feet.
The Chancellor stepped back. His angered red face wore a look of disgust.
“Grab your things Mr. Pensworth. These men will escort you to your car and off campus grounds,” the Chancellor nodded to the guards.
“FUCK OFF!” the young Pensworth shouted. “I have until Friday to leave. You told me that yesterday.”
“That was before your performance at the campus pub last night,” Chancellor Dreyer corrected. “There is a very distraught young lady sitting in the counselors office as we speak. The counselor told me that she had been crying all night after your unspectacular treatment of her.”
Lucas shook his head, “I can't remember last night. She’s probably full of shit,” he said wiping his hand across his mouth. “Bitch got what was coming to her I am sure.”
“Your things. Grab what you can carry. The rest I will call your father to pick up.”
“Fuck off, you can’t touch me…do you know who I am.”
The University Chancellor motioned to the guards, “Escort Mr. Pensworth off the campus please.” The guards closed in on the bent over student taking great care of where they stepped. The men each grabbed one of Lucas's arms.
“HEY!” Lucas yelled in surprise then realized the situation he faced. “Let me get my damn pants at least,” he conceded. The guards waited as the student turned to reach to the floor behind and lift a pair of slacks off the floor. Lucas 3rd hopped around putting his feet through the legs then dug through the garbage-strewn floor in search of his shoes. The Chancellor tapped his foot impatiently while he watched the unruly kid finish slipping into his footwear.
“Get him out of here,” he instructed.
Lucas 3rd hobbled along in the clutches of the university guards out of the dorm building. The glaring sun was excruciating as it pierced his red eyes. Lucas glared at the passing groups of students as they passed. The university crowds stopping to watch the walk of shame across the campus grounds.
Lucas tried to stop and admonish the other students for staring but each time he opened his mouth the guards would tighten their grip and march him faster. In the school parking lot, they stopped beside Lucas’s sports car. The security men watched him fumble with the keys before he climbed into his vehicle. The guards waited then pointed to the entrance that led off the university grounds.
Lucas backed from the stall and in spite floored the gas, the car still in reverse making the guards leap out of the way. Slamming the car into drive he accelerated. The powerful engine kicked in forcing the back end of the Audi to fishtail as it shot onto the road barging into the mid morning traffic.
Lucas fingered the car he had just cut off, then in his fog addled condition weaved down the lanes away from the university toward the unknown, his brain unable to comprehend the start to his day. Driving the car aimlessly his few clear thoughts focused on his father.
His resentment was growing at the unreasonable treatment he had to endure. Lucas seethed at his old man and the problems his father caused. How could a parent be so cruel he wondered? What did the old bastard expect of him after all, totally unfair in his opinion.
Spotting a convenience store Lucas spun the wheel and cut left across traffic. Horns blared as his car shot in front of the oncoming traffic. The Audi vaulted and scraped as Lucas misjudged the entrance and drove the car over the curb.
His car jolted as it came to rest against the concrete barrier separating the store and parking lot. He sat behind the wheel, his stomach churning and his brain pounding. He fumed. If his old man had stayed out of his business, he wouldn’t be in this position. The old asshole, Lucas swore and dug in his pockets for his papers and stash. His hands came up empty. He leaned close to the cars ashtray and rummaged for an unfinished butt. Nothing.
In frustration, he slammed the steering wheel. He needed a buzz, and he needed it bad. With an effort, he mustered his sluggish mind. Donkey always had a supply but going back to the dorm room was out of the question. I’ll get him to bring me a bag; Lucas decided and reached for his phone. No phone. Must still be back at the room. Again Lucas banged the steering wheel and yelled. Without his phone, he didn’t have Donkey’s number.
Lucas leaned back against the seat. How had life become so shitty? The answer seeped into his brain; his father was to blame. Lucas backed the car out of the stall. He knew where to score some drugs. He had gone on a run one time with Donkey. Lucas didn’t know the dealer personally but if he said Donkey had sent him that should be all right.
Twenty minutes later and a few more angry horns Lucas turned onto the same street he remembered driving with Donkey. The street was cracked, and pothole filled in a run down neighborhood of condemned shacks and boarded businesses. A dreary part of town a few blocks away from city hall.
Lucas was close to a park where he recalled driving Donkey when his friend met his dealer. Lucas spotted a group clustered around some park benches. He put the car in park and climbed out leaving the door open in his haste. Shading his eyes, he stepped over the sidewalk and ambled over the park’s brown dead grass. People rose from the benches staring at him as he approached.
Lucas stared past them. His eyes fixed on the person left sitting, Donkey’s dealer.
“I need some stuff,” Lucas called as he drew nearer. The man sitting at the bench looked at him and shrugged.
“Coke would do,” Lucas suggested.
Donkey’s dealer appraised his new client. His eyes swept over Lucas who was wearing his puke covered t-shirt and stained pants. Lucas’ hair pressed in all directions from his sleep on the couch.
“You sleep in the gutter last night man,” the dealer laughed a Lucas’ appearance. “I don’t think you can afford what I got. You better scram.”
Lucas panicked and his hand went to his back pocket pulling out his wallet. He flipped it open showing the dealer the hundred dollar bills inside, “How much?”
The dealer eyed the money then looked up, “All of it,” he said and slipped a small bag of white powder from under his coat. Lucas tried to do the math. His head churned slowly.
“I got no time for this,” the dealer said tucking his hand back under his coat.
“No, no I’ll take it,” Lucas rushed to get the bills out of his wallet before the drugs disappeared. The dealer grabbed the cash and set the bag in Lucas’s hand, “Nice doing business with you.” He smiled and walked away from the bench.
Lucas fumbled the bag open and with his finger laid out a thick line of powder. Bending close to the line on the table he covered a nostril and snorted. A burst of fireworks shot through his brain. He reached the top of the table to steady him and turned to sit. The park bench moved, and he plodded onto the grass, the bag of powder clutched in his hand.
From a distance, the dealer and his friends watched in amusement. When Lucas hit the ground, the spectators walked over to his running car. The dealer walked around checking the precision of the Audi. Nodding his approval, he climbed into the drivers seat closed the door and left the park, a fine car indeed the dealer thought, one befitting a man of his stature.
It's finally here, the moment you've all be waiting for. The start of the Climate Wars! Check back every week to read a new instalment!
“Mr. Pensworth,” Chancellor Dreyer eyed the young student seated across his desk, “I’m at a loss for words. Surely you can appreciate my predicament.”
The Chancellor studiously considered the young man. His hands rested on a copy of charges and misdemeanors leveled against the troubled student by the University staff. The Chancellor very slowly thought through the next words to leave his mouth.
The student in question, Lucas B. Pensworth the 3rd, sat beside his father, Lucas B. Pensworth ll. The elder Pensworth was providing the reason Chancellor Dreyer hesitated. Lucas B. Pensworth ll had contributed a vast amount of money to the University so that his son would be allowed admittance. Chancellor Dreyer waffled between expelling the younger Pensworth or ignoring this latest batch of charges and not risking the possible withdrawal of the monetary contribution made by the young man’s father.
Dreyer sighed and settled on his decision. Looking woefully in the elder Pensworth’s he switched his attention back to the student.
“I am sorry, but the University can no longer tolerate the antics and disruptions you bring to our fine establishment,” clearing his throat he mustered some courage in the face of the probable loss of the money contributed to the University.
“It is my decision that you are to have your belongings packed and remove yourself from our campus by weeks end.” The chancellor gazed at the boy’s father and shrugged in a way of an apology, “I am truly sorry Mr. Pensworth, but the University can no longer allow your son to continue his… and I hesitate to use the word studies… his attendance on these grounds.”
“I was hoping this meeting would not come to this,” Lucas B. Pensworth replied his eyes fixed on the Chancellor. The elder Pensworth sat unmoving, a look of disappointment settled across his face. “Understood Mr. Dreyer. Unfortunate but certainly understood.”
The younger Pensworth piped up, “Not to worry Dreyer. My old man will buy another University for me to attend.” He sneered at the University Chancellor then twisted his head to face his father, “Right father,” he intoned. “Let’s leave this miserable excuse of a school; I never liked it here to begin with.”
Lucas B. Pensworth remained seated. He let his eyes wander past the Chancellor and his gaze settle somewhere out the large office window at the sunlight stretching across the manicured lawns on the other side of the glass.
“Come on father,” the younger Pensworth pleaded as he rose from his chair all too readily accepting his dismissal from yet another university. The elder Pensworth continued his gazing out the window. With the touch from his son the older man slowly returned his attention to the room. A frown had turned his mouth before his eyes locked on his son.
“I appreciate your time and effort, Mr. Dreyer. I can imagine how agitating this whole process has been for you and your staff. For that, I am the one who must apologize.” He took a deep breath before addressing his son.
“Junior. I believe that the time has come for you to make your way in the world.”
“WHAT!” the younger Pensworth exclaimed. “Come on father. You can’t be serious? You can not be insinuating that I join you at the family business, are you?”
“No son, far from that. We will discuss the matter away from this office.” The elder Pensworth said, dismissing his son and then standing he extended his hand toward the University Chancellor. “Mr. Dreyer. I want to thank you for your time.” The two men shook hands and as Lucas B. Pensworth ll was turning to leave he reassured the Chancellor, “the money my wife and I have donated is to stay with this University. Do not stress yourself about that.”
Lucas B. Pensworth retrieved his coat from the back of his chair and resting his hand on his son's shoulder, the two Pensworths vacated the opulent office of Chancellor Dreyer. Waiting until the heavy oak door closed, Lucas the 3rd turned on his father.
“What happened in there!” the young man demanded angrily of his father.
“Not here son.”
“Why not here!” the young man's voice rose. “Shouldn’t I be involved in any decisions concerning my life? I refuse to leave until I get an answer,” Lucas the 3rd announced.
“All right then. Your mother and I have decided that we will no longer support a lifestyle where you continue to shirk your responsibilities and carry on like a misguided adolescent.” The disappointment the elder Pensworth was feeling about his only child changed to disdain. “From this moment forward you are on your own. No more schools, no more trust fund. Get a job and make something of yourself. Quit being so useless, that won’t get you far in life.”
“Sure, sure. You’re right I realize now,” the younger Pensworth agreed sheepishly. His angry outbursts forgotten as he drew on a wealth of boyish charm to once again escape his parent’s bad book. The younger man flashed a smile up at the older man.
“The next school will be different. You’ll see. I promise to work harder and make you proud,” young Lucas pleaded.
“I am truly sorry son. You have drifted from University to University. Nine years of majoring in…. what?” the older Pensworth’s shoulders sagged as he stared into his son’s shocked face. “Your chances have run out.” The boys pleading tugged at the heartstrings of his father. Without much conviction, Lucas B. Pensworth ll held firm to his decision then turned his back on a son he had sworn to support and protect from birth. His eyes misted while he listened to his son’s pleas.
The elder Pensworth strode out of the Universities administration building. “May God help him find his way,” Lucas the ll mumbled as he crossed the buildings threshold into the bright sunlight.
Lucas B. Pensworth 3rd stared in amazement at the back of his father's retreating figure. The old bastard will come around. Just trying to teach me a lesson, like all the times before, young Lucas thought as he sauntered out the admin building in direction of his dorm room. Still, his old man’s attitude irked him. He dug in his front pants pocket, his fingers searching for the plastic bag containing his stash of marijuana and a pack of papers.
Rolling a joint as he walked he fished a match out and stopped in the middle of the busy sidewalk to light up. Oblivious to the foot traffic having to veer around him he closed his eyes as he drew the pungent smoke deep into his lungs. The narcotic eased into his bloodstream. The meeting in the chancellor’s office sent adrift far from his thoughts as he struggled to hold the pent-up smoke in his lungs.
His mood lightened. He exhaled and the smoke escaped as he parted his lips. Lucas the 3rd wanted a place to vent and have a beer to go with the misery his father had caused. He changed course. The campus watering hole was across the campus lawn from the admin building; maybe he would run into some good-looking university coeds while he was there. His experience had time and again proved that they were usually very sympathetic when he compared notes with them about unreasonable expectations from parents. The older generation could never seem to comprehend how hard his generation had it.
The alcohol combined with drug-infused chasers intensified the talking down from his father gnawing at Lucas’s mind as he sat in the corner booth at the campus bar. Instead of enjoying a few drinks and the company of some university sororities his mood darkened, the booze and drugs pulling him down into a dark, angry place.
Swaying as he stood up, he bumped into a waitress carrying a tray of food to the next table.
“Watch where you’re going you dumb bitch!” He yelled. Why didn’t the cow get out of his way he fumed as he swayed looking down on the waitress as she knelt down cleaning up the fallen tray? Didn’t she know who he was for Christ’s sake?
In a drunken stupor, he nudged the waitress with his foot. “Get the hell out of my way you idiot!” the slurred words stumbled out of his mouth.
The waitress looked up at him, tears forming in her eyes, the tray held in the air with one hand as she scooped food off the floor with her other.
Lucas’s temper flared as he stared down at the distressed young lady. “Oh for fuck SAKES!” He bellowed as he angrily shoved her aside. A group of male students at the next table jumped to their feet and grabbed him.
“Apologize!” One of the students demanded.
“Fuck off.” Lucas replied and took a drunken swing at the man. His aim was off; the momentum of his flying fist carried him crashing into the students vacated table, toppling drinks and food onto the bar floor.
As the bars bouncers carried him screaming out the doors, across the sidewalk and deposited him on the campus lawn, he lashed out at them.
“Don’t fucking touch me. Don’t you know who I am?” He screamed back the bouncers. “I’m Lucas B. Pensworth. I’ll have my dad buy this damn place, and I’ll burn it to the ground.”
Lying crumpled on the damp grass he crawled to a nearby tree and threw his hands around the slim trunk and pulled himself upright. Swaying on his feet, Lucas fingered the now closed doors of the bar and peering through blurred vision, his drunken mind struggled to find a path back to his dorm room. Shoving off from the tree he set out precariously on the spinning campus grounds.
The drinks and company at the lounge failed to help him escape the disconcerting thoughts of his father’s warning. Instead, he found his anger growing toward his father’s contemptuous treatment with every unsteady step. Lucas seethed as he staggered back and forth. He was 27 years old; he could do what he damn well pleased, who and the hell were his parents to treat him like a kid.
A short distance from his dorm room he bent over with his hands resting on his knees as the cheap booze from the bar flushed out of his mouth. There in the middle of the lawn, a lucid thought hit him. What if his parents cut him off this time? Naw. Impossible. Parents didn’t abandon their children, especially their only child and the next in the long line of Pensworth men. His position in life was owed to him after all.
They could have a few days to cool and realize the mistake they were making then he would act humbled, beg for forgiveness and once again reassure them that this time he really would change. Besides, they were fools. Hadn’t this same ploy worked for him the last three times when the other Universities sent him packing?
A new Canadian Author with too many ideas in his head. Surprising even himself with where his stories go.