Harvard Law School

September 1972

It was the first day of the rest of his life, or so his mother had said. She had been so proud when she'd waved him off that morning, tears filling her eyes, hugging him tightly and kissing him wetly on the cheek, leaving a prominent lipstick mark.

"Mom!" he'd protested loudly, shaking her off. He could see the neighbours watching from across the street and nothing was more embarrassing than being seen to be kissed by your mother at the age of twenty-five.

"I can't help it if I'm happy!" she'd protested, fixing him with a look of mock annoyance, "My only son, my little boy, off to law school."

He'd rolled his eyes in despair, desperate to be free of her arms and on his way, "I have to go Mom," he'd said finally, "I need to register before ten."

"Oh, of course, of course," she'd said, releasing him and wiping her eyes furiously, "I wouldn't want you to be late." She'd practically pushed him towards the car, "You get going. Call me when you get there."

"I will," he'd replied dutifully, throwing his last remaining bag in the back seat and opening the driver's door. Sliding inside, he'd turned on the engine and closed the door behind him. Just as he had been preparing to back out of the driveway, his mother had tapped on the window. Rolling it down, he'd looked at her questioningly.

Kathryn Stone looked at her son stoically, "Your father would be very proud of you, Ben."

He had swallowed hard against the lump which sprung up in his throat and merely nodded, pulling the gear stick into reverse and moving backwards before his mother could see the tears forming in his eyes. Then, one final quick wave, and he was gone, away on a new adventure.

Law school was what he had dreamed off for years. All throughout high school and college, where he'd done his degree in politics and journalism, he had thought about the day when he would walk through the doors of one of America's top schools and finally study the law. To have been accepted at Harvard was a big deal and his mother was right; his father would be proud. At least, he hoped he would.

The freeway was quiet, not yet given in to the early morning rush hour traffic and as he drove, he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the beat from the radio. He didn't have a clue what they were singing about, his mind being so preoccupied with what was going to happen to him in the nexttwo years. He only hoped it would be everything he had dreamed it would be.

It took two hours to reach the campus and he was surprised by how busy it was when he drove in. The long winding drive leading up to the residences was jam packed with other cars, students dragging suitcases and even furniture up to their new rooms, people laughing and joking, some struggling to be released by their over-emotional parents. He was glad he had persuaded his mother to stay at home.

Finding what was probably the only available space left, he pulled up on the grass verge and turned off the engine. He sat for a moment, just gazing at the buildings in front of him, thinking once again how lucky he was to have made it this far.

Opening the car door, he glanced briefly at the map he had been sent by the university and identified quickly the area he was to go to register. Figuring there wasn't much point in starting to unpack before knowing where he was going, he locked the car and ambled slowly across the grass towards the main building. Inside, there were throngs of people waiting in queues, others hanging around talking, some standing nervously on their own. At the far end of the room, four tables were set up, each baring a stretch of the alphabet. The S-Z table was to the far right and he walked towards it, joining the end of the line that stretched from it. There was only one person allowed at a time to each table and it took almost a half hour to reach the head of the line. Just as he was about to step forward to register a loud voice yelled out from behind.

"Excuse me! I was here first!"

He turned to see what the commotion was and saw a young woman, hands on hips, glaring angrily at a tall, beefy man standing in front of her. He appeared to be ignoring her.

"Hello, are you deaf?" she asked him, "I said I was here first!"

Making a big show of finally hearing her, he turned to look at her, "I'm sorry, are you talking to me?" A titter went up amongst the other people standing in the line.

But the woman didn't back down, "Yes, I am," she said forcefully, "You cut in front of me."

"Tough," the man turned to face the front again.

Ben saw the woman's eyes blaze angrily, "Tough? Yeah, I guess it is tough for you, because I was here first!" She pushed in front of him.

"Hey!" he protested loudly, grabbing her by the arm and pushing her out of the line, "It's rude to overtake."

The woman looked about ready to explode, so Ben spoke up quickly, "You can go in front of me." The woman turned to look at him, an expression of abject rage still marring her face. For a moment, he thought she was about to start on him, but she merely nodded curtly.

"Thank you." She strode past him up to the desk.

"You're welcome," Ben said to her back.

The bored looking student behind the desk barely glanced up, "Name?"

"Evelyn Sanderson," he heard her say.

"Sanderson, Sanderson…" the student looked down the list, "Sanderson, Adam, Sanderson, Barbara…no Sanderson Evelyn, sorry."

"What?"

"You're name's not on the list."

From behind him, Ben could hear the man who had fought with Evelyn snort withy laughter.

"What are you talking about?" she demanded, "I must be!"

The student held up the piece of paper and spoke as though she were stupid, "See? You're not on the list."

The woman dove into the bag she was carrying and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, "I have my acceptance letter, see?" she thrust it in his face.

The student looked at it and shrugged, "Guess there's been a mistake. Next!"

"Wait a sec," the woman demanded, "What am I supposed to do?"

"Go along to the main office and talk to the Dean," the student told her, "Next!" He gestured to Ben who stepped gingerly forward.

The woman whirled around, shot Ben a look of utter contempt and stormed off back towards the main door, ignoring the laughter and cat calls from the others in the line. Ben stepped up to the desk, "Benjamin Stone."

The student looked down, "Yep, you're on it." He lifted a stack of papers, "this is your welcome pack. It's got your timetable and everything in there. Your residence is Hunter House, room 12B."

"Thank you," Ben replied, taking the pile of papers and moving back from the desk. As he did so, the man who had been arguing with Evelyn glared at him. Ben ignored him and made his way back out into the sunshine to where he'd left his car. Picking up some of the bags, he glanced again at the map, located Hunter House and started walking over.

Hunter House, he found, was one of the older residence buildings. Made of red sandstone, it stood at the far edge of the campus, looking slightly out of place amongst a few newer buildings which had been constructed nearby. Inside, the décor was distinctive of the period with flowery carpet and wallpaper. Notice boards were already covered in bits of paper with people advertising everything from TVs to cars. People were milling around, talking, and their voices echoed in the large hallway. Finding the stairs, Ben climbed the four storeys until he found rooms numbered 12. His room was second along and when he slotted the key in and opened the door, he was met by a distinct musty smell and the unmistakable odour of pot.

Setting his bags down, he walked over to the window and looked out onto a view of the lush grounds, still thronging with people. He could see all the way across to the city, the morning sunshine splitting the trees. As he stood contemplating it, there was a sharp rap on the door. Turning quickly, he saw a man, roughly the same age, standing peering into the room.

"Hey," he greeted Ben cheerfully, "Guess we're neighbours."

"We are?"

"Craig Hammond," he stepped in, his hand outstretched, "12A."

"Ben Stone," they shook hands.

"Just arrived?" Craig asked. Ben nodded, "I got here a coupla hours ago. My mother couldn't wait to see the back of me." Ben thought about his own mother's performance, "So, what do you think about the accommodation?"

"Erm…" Ben looked around.

Craig laughed, "I know, tell me about it." He glanced at Ben's begs, "Is that all you got?"

"No, no, there's more in the car."

"I'll give you a hand."

It took two trips, but finally, all Ben's worldly possessions were in his room. He hung up his clothes in the small wardrobe and put the few personal items he had brought out on the shelves alongside his books and radio.

"You fancy a beer?" Craig asked when they'd finished.

Ben checked his watch, "At eleven am?"

"Why not?" Craig grinned, "We deserve it."

"Ok," Ben nodded, "Why not?"

SSSS

Across campus, Evelyn Sanderson sat tapping her foot impatiently outside the Dean's office. When she'd turned up, the secretary had rather snootily told her that she would have to wait, and not even the threat of one of Evelyn's legendary meltdowns would shift her. So, she had planted herself on one of the terribly hard seats to wait. This was not how her new life was supposed to start out.

Early that morning, she had gotten out of bed, made herself some toast, finished packing her things and set off for the bus stop without so much as a by your leave from anyone. Her parents had still been sleeping off the effect of the previous night's drinking and her brothers had been nowhere in sight. Nobody had waved her off, kissed her, wished her luck, nothing. Not that she'd expected it. As soon as she was on the train, she had let her mind wander at how wonderful everything was going to be from now on. No more family, no more problems…a new start. Only it wasn't quite happening that way so far. Not even recognised as being a new student! It was the ultimate slap in the face, making sure she didn't get too big for her boots.

"Miss Sanderson?" the secretary said haughtily, "the Dean will see you now."

Evelyn stood up, shot the woman a withering look and pushed open the door to the office. Inside, the bright décor hit her like a train, and she pulled up short at the redness of the carpet and walls. Behind a large mahogany desk, a man in his fifties was poring over some papers. He looked up, "Sit down." Evelyn sat. "So, I understand that you weren't on the list."

"That's right," she replied, "but I have my acceptance letter." She made to get it out again, but he waved at her.

"It's quite all right, I do believe you. I have you on my list."

"That's not much good if I'm not on any other," she snapped.

The Dean looked at her, "If you will keep your temper, I will give you all the information you need." He lifted a stack of papers and held them across the desk to her, "You'll find everything in there, including your room allocation. It was merely a clerical error."

Evelyn snorted and stood up, "Thank you," she replied ascerbically.

"Welcome to Harvard," the Dean grinned at her.

Evelyn didn't return the smile. She threw open the door of the office and stormed out, past the stuffy secretary and back out into the main corridor. Then she glanced down at the top sheet of her bundle, the one bearing her address. Hunter House, Room 12C.