"DECEMBER BOYS" PART FOUR: INTERLUDE IN DER RATHSKELLER/A PILGRIMAGE ON A TIMELESS NIGHT (1st section)

DECEMBER BOYS

INTERLUDE IN DER RATHSKELLER

     Craig clicked his headphones off, unable to listen anymore and he began to watch the activity at the ticket booth. There was an anxiousness to Craig’s mood as he watched an increasing amount of students arrive to the box office to purchase their “Say Anything…” tickets. Craig prided himself for his punctuality and he hated being late for events, especially movies. From an entire childhood of arriving over thirty minutes after the start of a film with his parents and having to wait out the time between screenings just to see the beginning, Craig had long been determined to give himself proper time to get to a screening. He wasn’t obsessive about these things. He only wanted to allow himself a cushion of time to travel to the location and find comfortable seating. That is why, more often than not, he went to movies alone. He always enjoyed having company, but he didn’t like to have to depend on another person’s schedule. Like now, as he waited for Rhett, compulsively listening to his emotionally infamous broadcast. Craig wished that Rhett would show up just so he wouldn’t have to listen anymore and hear what was coming after the final strains. With luck Rhett hurriedly approached him after racing up the stairs.

     “Craig, I am so sorry,” Rhett apologized softly. “I feel like an idiot. I lost my keys…or at least, I thought I lost my keys. Just that ‘Friday-night-I-have-to-be-somewhere-and-I’m-in-a-hurry’ kind of nonsense.”

     “That’s alright. Let’s get the tickets,” consoled Craig, bringing a sense of comfort to Rhett with ease.

    After waiting quietly for what seemed like an unusual amount of time through an unusual amount of people, Craig and Rhett were disappointed to see the “SOLD OUT” sign placed in front of the ticket window.

     “You can buy tickets for the next show at 9:45!” the ticket girl chirped.

     “Craig, I am so sorry, man. I know how much you wanna see this.”

     “It’s alright,” said Craig, placing a hand on Rhett shoulder. “Let’s see the next show. We can warm up downstairs or something.”

     “Sounds fine with me,” Rhett replied gratefully.

     Craig and Rhett then bought their tickets for the later showing and retired to the hugely occupied Rathskeller for conversation and much needed warmth.

A PILGRIMAGE ON A TIMELESS NIGHT (1st section)

     To atone for his tardiness, Rhett treated Craig to popcorn and drinks as they found themselves a table to occupy for a while. It always tickled Rhett to see Craig’s extremely low liquor tolerance and with a wine cooler at that. Craig was unapologetic though. He disliked the bitter taste of beer and preferred a sweeter texture to his beverages of choice, hence the wine cooler. As they sat, Rhett and Craig took in the rambunctious psychedelic sounds of The Vicious Hippies. They didn’t say that much to each other, but each was pleased to take shelter through the warmth of the ‘Rat, music and friendship. 

     Rhett Brazelton met Craig Hughes early in his freshman year through their shared experiences at WLHA. They were introduced at the station’s orientation meeting at which Craig offered to assist a nervously excited Rhett with the ins and outs of his first show; a gesture for which Rhett was greatly thankful. Craig’s openness and willingness to help touched Rhett and eased his transition into college just that much more. Rhett hailed from Minneapolis and was amazed at Craig’s vast knowledge and appreciation of Prince and to a slightly lesser extent, The Replacements.

     They met again at a campus screening of “Purple Rain,” a film Rhett claimed to have never seen because of parental restrictions. Craig, in complete disbelief that someone from the Twin Cities and a fan, no less had not seen this rock movie classic, sat with Rhett and decided then and there to educate Rhett in the music of His Royal Badness. Rhett was consistently surprised and enthusiastic to receive occasional compilation cassettes of rare Prince B-sides and live material. Most of all, Rhett was stunned to receive a copy (taped from vinyl!) of the legendary and then unreleased “Black Album,” a major musical coup. Craig’s generosity assisted with Rhett’s transition to college and they became friends, usually seeing each other at the radio station and occasionally meeting at the Union.

     One Friday evening, the previous spring while his roommate was away, Rhett invited Craig to hang out with him and two friends from high school. One attended school in Madison and the other, a high school senior and recently accepted to Madison, would be visiting from Minneapolis. Since both Jon and Stephanie were planning to be out of town for the weekend as well, Craig agreed. On the evening of their planned outing, Rhett and Craig relaxed and waited in as they listened to some bootlegged Prince, recorded live in Paris. As that trademark falsetto reached equally trademark erotic heights in a call and response with audience screams, there was a knock on Rhett’s door.

     Josie Fagen never just entered a room. She set the atmosphere through which every element flowed and revolved. She wasn’t just the quintessential “life of the party.” Josie was the party and it always ended the second she chose to leave. Josie was the live wire. The flame where all of the moths itched to dance around. In fact, Rhett and Josie danced briefly while in high school and truthfully, it was impossible to dance with Josie for any lengthier stretch of time than “briefly.” People were generally thankful for any time that they were fortunate enough to have with her and in Rhett’s case, he actually was even more fortunate to have once kissed her, a gift very few boys had received.

     By reasons associated only through her quieter, and some would say darker nature, Mariah Esposito was “the sidekick.” She was the “Brown Dirt Cowboy” to Josie’s “Captain Fantastic.” The one in the shadow of the more flamboyant one. Where Josie was vivacious, Mariah had a sense of mystery. She was the one you may or may not have noticed sitting in the corner, surveying the scene that Josie created with her frowny smile that slid through her luscious mane of black hair or over the top of her glasses. And if you had the chance to sit and talk with her, you would notice that Mariah had a rich, low and slow voice that, if you let it, could caress and envelop you like the keyboards in 10cc’s “I’m Not In Love.” Mariah had lived through many adventures with Josie and she was honestly entertained with Josie’s ability to happily push forward through life, no matter the obstacles; a fun contrast to Mariah’s more practical and cautious demeanor. Yet, Josie did have the tendency to be unintentionally inconsiderate to those she was closest to. This would occasionally lead to unpleasant adventures where Mariah ended up feeling frustrated or at times, ignored, left out completely, and filled with questions of why were they even friends to begin with.

     “Hey Coach, change of plans!” Josie trumpeted not even two steps into the room and leaving Mariah waiting in the hallway.

     “Why does this not surprise me in the least?” began Rhett.

     “Does anything surprise you, mon amie?” asked Josie, who now approached Rhett with a conspiratorial gaze in her eye that she hoped would convince him of her upcoming idea.

     Josie strode into the dorm room, now making way for Mariah, who exchanged a knowing glance with Rhett as if to say, “She hit me with this one just as I got off of the bus”. Craig, meanwhile, was taking in the scene as if watching some foreign soap opera.

     “Troy Blake’s having this party tonight and I’ve gotta check it out,” pitched Josie.

     “Troy Blake?!  You’ve gotta be kidding me?” Rhett dismissed. “He is such a tool. He’s in my Philosophy lecture and always, in a room full of students, he has to try and make personal conversations with the Prof.”

     “I didn’t realize that was a crime.”

     “It’s not. He’s so unctuous…”

     “Clang! Clang! $50 dollar word in the kettle!” chattered Josie.

     “...he’s like a used car salesman, Josie. He’s a five minute expert! I swear, when he leaves his seat in the lecture hall, you can see the grease stains. If you’ve gotta ditch me for some party, you can do so much better than that. At least for Mariah’s sake! Why let that guy be her first impression of this campus?!”

     “Actually Rhett,” volleyed Josie. “You, your lovely abode and your stunning abilities as host are Mariah’s first impressions of this campus!” Like a crack of lightning, Josie winked at Mariah and changed the subject with an off handed, “Hey! Is this Prince?” and then addressing Craig for the first time, “Are you the Prince fanatic Rhett’s told me about?”

     “Yes it is and yes he is,” Rhett answered, not falling for the sloppy segue. “Troy Blake, Josie?! C’mon! I was at Wyatt’s a couple of weeks ago and there was Troy, stepping out of the shower, totally naked in an all guys’ floor like he was some Greek God or something.”

     “Mariah, we have to go now. There may be a live performance of the Oresteia in store for us,” Josie teased which elicited a frowny smile from Mariah that Craig found adorable.

     “It’ll be more like Icarus. Trust me!” exclaimed Rhett, a little more angrily.

     “Put your back down Rhett,” cooed Josie, ruffling Rhett’s shaggy blond hair. “It’ll be fine. You hungry? I know I am. Let’s get some shockingly bad dorm food and head off.”

     “Josie, I am not going to some overblown and overly cramped version of ‘Caligula’!”

     “Suit yourself, Rhett. But, let’s get something to eat. I am what the French call ‘famished’!” and with a flourish of her arms, Josie headed out of the room and into the hallway. Then, as if she had forgotten a not so treasured item, she turned to face Rhett and surprisingly tender, she said, “I am happy to see you, Rhett. I hope you change your mind about this.” And she was off. Mariah glided after her and Craig looked at Rhett for some insight to which Rhett just didn’t have at that moment.

     Dinner at Pop’s Club was more enjoyable for the foursome. Rhett and Josie provided the bulk of the conversation and entertainment, volleying verbal jabs and anecdotes with the speed and wit of a Howard Hawks film. Mariah softly laughed at each jab as she tapped at her soggy salad while Craig, still the spectator, continued to take it all in, self-consciously not eating very much. Whatever aura surrounded Mariah, Craig was drawn to it. He was curious as to what stories she would tell, if only Josie and Rhett would give her the chance. It then dawned on him, that he really hadn’t even heard her speak yet.

     “Mariah, I hope that this scrumptious tripe doesn’t deter you from coming here next year,” contributed Josie, as if she had just read Craig’s mind.

     “Ooooohhh,” Mariah began, in a low, slow drawl that made Craig’s ears perk up instantly. “The jury’s still out on that one.” That was it for Mariah. And Craig was hooked. He just had to hear that voice again.

     Unable to convince Rhett to join them on their trek to Troy Blake’s party, the foursome parted ways for the evening as the springtime sunshine draped them with refreshing warmth and the stomach butterflies the anticipation of summer tends to bring. With an agreement to meet again around midnight, Josie and Mariah sprinted away leaving Rhett shaking his head disapprovingly and Craig finally able to utter some words of his own.

     “Who is that?” said a bewildered Craig.

     “That, my friend, is Josie Fagen.”

     “No, the other one. She doesn’t say too much but…she’s got a really great voice, don’t you think?”

     “I suppose. Mariah’s always struck me as being someone who just doesn’t like to waste words but when you get to know her, you can’t shut her up.”

     “Oh yeah, she was a real chatterbox,” said Craig, sarcastically.

     “I've got a baaad feeling about this,” Rhett muttered more pensively.

     “Why?”

     “I would just hate for something to happen and Mariah doesn’t know anything about this place at all.”

     “You really think Josie would do something like that?”

     “Not intentionally,” Rhett reasoned. “But…yes.”

     “Well…,” Craig began. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to stand here until midnight. Let’s go to the Union. See what’s happening.”

    “Cool.” 
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