Aquarius Falling

Chapter 1

                                                                                Chapter 1

                                                                             May 11, 1964

                                                                      A Ride to the Beach

Filled with rage, rage and self-loathing, I slammed the door behind me with a resounding crack that echoed like a rifle shot in the empty corridor. Walking out the main door onto the commons with knuckles white from clenched hands, my right hand gripped the handle of my suitcase. My left hand was a fist. I crossed the red brick entrance and walked through the wrought iron gates, looking back at the gray stone Jesuit edifice that overlooked the Potomac. I had failed and could blame only myself.

     Stepping onto Wisconsin Avenue, I started hitchhiking with no idea of a destination, just to leave this town. Each time a driver asked where I was going, my stock answer was, "As far as you'll take me." The random rides led in an eastern direction out of Washington, D.C., eventually reaching U.S. Route 50 and the Maryland countryside. Rather than engaging in meaningless conversation with the car's driver, my mind replayed the conversation with Monsignor McLaughlin.

     "Thomas, my son, actions have consequences." His words repeated again and again in my head. He always called me "my son," and I always addressed him as "Father Sean." To me, those words--"my son" and "Father"--meant much more than simple salutations. Monsignor McLaughlin, Father Sean, was the first person to greet me when I arrived at Georgetown University as an eighteen-year-old freshman. I was a child without a family, but he would make me forget that. He seemed to know my thoughts and fears. He gave me guidance, which was his job, but he gave me so much more. I thought of him as my father, the father I never had, and I liked to think the celibate priest thought of me as the son he never had. Just a few short hours before, he had spoken his last words to me.

     "Thomas, the girl almost died because of your actions--your actions here on campus, in your room. And it has put the school in a terrible position. We don't believe there will be a lawsuit, but her father is an alumnus and has provided important financial support to the university. Your actions have put that financial support in jeopardy. I'm sorry, Thomas, but the board has revoked your scholarship, and you are expelled from the university, effective immediately. You must accept responsibility for your actions. Always remember, Thomas, my son, actions have consequences."

     I knew in my heart that Father Sean was right. At the same time, I wondered if my consequences would have been different if I had had a father who provided important financial support to the university. My reality was that I didn't have a father. Nor did I have a family. My family was Georgetown and Father Sean. My hope was for a secure future that my education would provide. Now all of it was gone. My life was in my small suitcase. My fortune was the few dollars in my pocket.

     At crossroads, decisions have to be made. This one came at Annapolis, and the choice was to go north to Baltimore or east to the ocean. The decision was easy. It would be east the ocean. It was midday, with a cloudless blue sky; I stood on the side of the road, waiting for my next ride of chance. The scent of honeysuckle dominated the air. Across the road, pink and white azaleas bloomed. The oppressive humidity of central Maryland was still a few weeks away. The air was freshened by a breeze that made the treetops dance. The sun beat on the asphalt, causing distant objects to shimmy and float. The wiggling object now coming toward me on the horizon would be my next ride.

     Hitchhiking is about the element of uncertainty or possible danger. You have no idea who is stopping to pick you up or why. When you climb into a stranger's car, you are saying, "I don't know you from Adam, but I trust you." Deserve it or not, you relinquish any control of your destiny. And so it was when the red Austin Healey pulled onto the shoulder. The car's top was down, and the driver, a guy in his late twenties with a blond crew cut and round face, smiled as he looked back at me.