Global Studies

Last Waltz

"Only a hundred times," said Morton. "But tell it again. It's your night."

"Well," said Amara, "late one night last winter, I was doing research and found the program on the website, and I wanted to go there immediately."

"Why," asked Viviane.

"Well, because Dad went there, but it's more than that. I want to go because I feel like I need a more rewarding education than I'm getting here. I looked at the course catalog, and it's so much deeper and more specific than here in public school. I want to learn these things. The problem with public school curriculum is that it's a mile wide and an inch deep, if you get what I mean."

Morton took a sip of his soda.

He asked, "When did Dad ever talk to you about Winthrop?"

"Well, once he told me about his time in their photography club in his sophomore year, and the moments he felt with others and especially the connection they shared. It all seemed amazing."

"So, you talked to Dad and then what happened?"

"He was surprised. I couldn't understand it at all. I would think he'd be my biggest supporter, given his studies there and the school's reputation."

"It's not that I don't support you," said Thomas. "I was simply unaware that you had any interest in where I went to school."

"Why not," asked Morton.

"Well, she told me that she was interested in going to Winthrop because I studied at Winthrop, and that's what led her to do the research on it. But she had never talked to me about her interest in family history."

"Were you pleasantly surprised," asked Morton.

"Yes, and it made me remember something. I had my own interests then, too, that my parents were not aware of. I guess everyone does have youthful curiosities. When I was Amara's age, I had my own life, my own friends, my own romances, even."

Thomas paused, deep in thought. A song from that era which he had heard earlier on the radio played through his head, and nostalgia overcame him. But after a moment, Thomas suddenly looked concerned.

Morton noticed this and asked, "What's wrong?"

Thomas took a deep breath and looked around the room, then into Viviane's eyes. She nodded, as if to say, "Go on."

"Well, you know, I want what's best for my children. I've learned a lot from my past, and I have lost a lot in my time alive," he said. "I have a lot of memories from Winthrop – I think we all do from high school – and some regrets. These past experiences have caused me to worry somewhat. However, that may be only my subjective mind."

In that moment, Thomas remembered one of those past experiences.

...

Thomas was nearly sixteen on that day in 1979. He was with his friends Greg Kovich and Joe Marlborough at a diner near Winthrop, having just returned from his summer break.

It was a sun-drenched afternoon, warm in both temperature and the naïve optimism of a new school year.

"What do you hope to achieve this year," asked Joe.

"Let's not go there," said Greg. "I'm still in the summer mindset. Besides, classes don't start until Monday."

"I gotcha," said Thomas. "You go on that road trip with your family you talked about?"

"Nope," Greg said. "We couldn't afford it. Have you seen the price of gas? It's almost too expensive to drive around town. Oil crisis and whatnot."

"Makes sense," said Thomas. "My parents have been complaining about it too."