Chapter 1
Location: Binghampton, New York
Date: February 27, 1972
"Eric! Wait up, buddy!" I heard Morgan Hamilton's voice call from down the street. I stopped walking along the sidewalk and turned around to face him. He caught up and stopped when he reached my place.
"Hey, Morgan," I responded, pleased to see my best friend of five years. We were both high school seniors in Binghampton, New York and were getting ready to graduate.
"Are you going to the library?" Morgan asked. "Yes, do you want to join me?" I said. "Was hoping I could," Morgan responded, and I said that was fine. I needed someone to help me study for my woodshop final anyway and always enjoyed his company.
"I need to work on my senior research paper a good bit. It's due next Friday, right?" Morgan stated.
"Yep, five days left. I finished my paper about a month ago, actually," I said, "What are you writing yours on?"
"The Christian influence on the civil rights movement. You?"
"I wrote mine on the authenticity of the Bible."
"Cool! If you already finished your paper, why are you going to the library then?" Morgan inquired.
"I need to study…for woodshop," I said quietly, rather embarrassed.
"Woodshop? Really, Eric? That class is so easy," Morgan laughed, patting Eric on the back as they started walking to the expansive library two blocks over.
"Maybe for you…and everyone else. I don't know…I've just never been a mechanical hands-on kind of guy. I've never cared for engineering or carpentry or anything like that. I'm honestly surprised I haven't caused bodily harm to myself or someone else in the class yet," I chuckled, "I've just always been more drawn in by history and cultural stuff."
"I know, brother. You're my best friend and all, but sometimes it is really astonishing how little you know how to do."
"My brain wasn't wired around those things. Sorry to taint you with my ignorance," We both laughed.
"It's alright. I just hope you never have to change a tire or get stuck in a situation like that…because you are out of luck, my friend." Morgan smirked.
"Yeah, yeah. At least I don't wait until the week of to write my papers," I snickered, resulting in another chuckle from Morgan.
When we arrived at the library Morgan occupied an empty computer, and I sat down at a table close by. I set my backpack on the table and pulled out my textbook for my least favorite class. Honestly, I felt pretty insecure. Woodshop is just a thing that comes naturally to guys…all guys except me. I had put the class off every year, dreading it. I knew it was required to graduate but also knew that if I was going to be subjected to daily embarrassment it may as well be when I will be leaving right after. My class averages are high and I have always been pretty studious. That part was all thanks to my father, an active duty Marine. He always pushed me to my limits and wanted me to perform well. However, I never was that close to my father because he was absent often. I guess that is why I never took up anything hands-on like that, but I knew he was disappointed in my career choice. I wanted to become a minister. He wanted me to join the military and take up a craft in a technical field. As I got older and realized God's calling for my life, my father and I engaged in more arguments because I wasn't "fulfilling my duty." He always reminded me that I was a dreamer and that dreaming was worthless.
My younger sister Julie and I were accustomed to his hard demeanor. I just hated how it was always "his way or the highway," and that he didn't seem to consider what I wanted for my life.
Anyway, at least I was taking woodshop in my last semester. Every day some kind of snide comment was made when I was called on to answer or when we did independent work, and my lack of common knowledge was made known to the class yet again. I never was considered a "loser" by the school population but people loved to rub it in my face that I didn't know this sort of stuff.
After what seemed like years but was really only hours of studying and consistent quizzing conducted by Morgan, I gathered my materials up and we walked out of the library.
A/N: I am not really sure what the point of this chapter is anymore, lol. I have awesome plot ideas that I will incorporate into this story, but just needed somewhere to start I suppose! It's been a long time before I've written any fanfiction. I am going to a viewing for a friend shortly and won't be able to post another chapter for a few hours. I will post the next one upon my return.