Chapter 5: Start Of The End

Friday, May 4th, 1962

The final days of high school had arrived. It had been two weeks since prom and it was four weeks until graduation. I had a million things I had to do by then and none of them anywhere close to completion. I was stressing. Jack remained unaffected, as always. His biggest concern at the moment was flipping through his advance copy of the yearbook as he sat on my front step.

"Would you look at that, Hutch? Yours truly, prom king!" He pointed to his picture proudly. I looked up from the plant I was re-potting.

"Congratulations, Your Highness. As king, what is your stance on foreign policy? How do you feel about welfare?" I teased as I gently packed the soil around the roots of the fern. Jack frowned.

"I think we'll tax all the sassy gardeners to death!"

"How would that help?"

"I don't know, get rid of the opposition? Prevent a coup?"

"You don't know? I guess that's what we get for choosing our leader by way of a popularity contest."

"You're not half as funny as you think you are, Hutch."

"I'm a sassy gardener, not a jester, remember? Now if Your Highness doesn't mind, could you pass me the watering can?"

"Get it yourself, peasant! King Jack Mitchell the First is occupied!" Jack stuck his nose in the air and went back to the yearbook. I threw some dirt at him. "Hey! Watch the book!" he protested while I laughed. He set the book aside and picked up the watering can with a mischievous grin.

"Jack, put that down!" I pointed at him, a warning look on my face. Jack debated for a second, pulled the watering can back and slung the water in my direction. I tried to dodge, but my legs got soaked from the knees down. Why is that so cold?! I let out a yelp. Jack was laughing uncontrollably while I stripped off my socks and shoes and rolled up the legs of my jeans. I threw my now soaked socks at his chest. He threw them further into the yard, composed himself and picked up the yearbook again. I went back to my fern.

"Hutch!" Jack suddenly exclaimed. I looked up from my task.

"What?"

"You got a title!"

"Yeah, valedictorian. I already knew that."

"No, not that! Look, Ken Hutchinson, The Boy Most Likely to Succeed!" He pointed to my picture with the words under it. I shrugged.

"I should have got a haircut before that picture. It's too long on the sides," I commented. Jack groaned.

"You've missed the point once again, Hutch."

"I didn't. I just don't think it's that important. I don't understand why anyone would vote for me anyway." Most likely to succeed? Without a life direction or a plan? Yeah right...

"I voted for you."

"Why?"

"Same reason anyone else did. You work harder than anyone else, you're not a complete jerk, and you don't get caught up in drama."

"And that makes me likely to succeed?"

"The people have spoken!"

"They're the same people that made you king though. Not sure I trust them." I smirked. Jack tackled me and put me in a headlock. I struggled, but my two years on the varsity wrestling team were no match against Jack's four. "Jack! Stop!" I gasped for breath. "I surrender! Let me go! Jack!"

"Fine! Just remember this next time you decide to bad mouth your king!"

Saturday, May 19th, 1962

"Hand me the flashlight, Ken," Dad ordered from under the bathroom cabinet. I searched the toolbox for the requested item and passed it to him.

"Can you tell what's wrong with it?" I asked. The sink in the upstairs bathroom had been leaking since Wednesday and Dad and I were trying to get to the bottom of why. Well, Dad was anyway. I was trying my best to assist, but I didn't really know a thing about it. Sinks weren't something I had taken the time to read up on.

"Looks like we need to make a trip to the hardware store." He slid out and handed me the flashlight. "Take a look for yourself, Son. See if you can tell me what's wrong." I obeyed and crawled under the sink. I pointed the light on everything, searching for anything that looked out of the ordinary. The problem was, I wasn't sure what was ordinary. Dad was better at this sort of thing.

"Uh...it's leaking?" I guessed somewhat sarcastically. How should I know? I heard Dad sigh.

"I hope you don't have dreams of becoming a plumber, Ken," he mumbled. I crawled out and switched off the flashlight.

"Don't worry, I don't."

"Good. But it's still not a bad idea for you to learn how to do this. You may have a house of your own someday and you'll need to be able to make basic repairs."

"I could always just call in a professional."

"And pay an astronomical fee for something you could have easily fixed yourself?"

"Or I could just call my engineer dad and ask him what to do."

"Or you could fix it on your own, save money, and not run up the phone bill," Dad suggested.

"Fair point. What's wrong with it?" I asked, resigned to dedicate the rest of my afternoon to this project. Dad motioned for me to crawl back under the sink. Once I was down there, he pointed out the offending part.

"This is the drain. That's what's leaking. It's rusted, so we'll have to replace the whole drain and these two washers." He handed me a pencil and a small notebook.

"Okay, what do we need to get to do that?" I got ready to write it down. I guessed Dad was probably going to make me locate all the items myself when we got to the store.

"Washers, a drain, plumbers' putty and some Channellock pliers." He took the list from me and added the measurements for everything.

"You don't have the pliers?"

"I do, but you don't. You need your own for your toolbox." Dad had given Kirsten and I toolboxes for our 16th birthdays. We had slowly been adding to them ever since, one project at a time.

Once we were in the car, Dad brought up the very thing I didn't want to talk about.

"Graduation is about two weeks away."

"I know, Dad."

"Started on that speech?"

"I tried. Haven't thought of anything yet." I stared out the window.

"Don't you think you're cutting it close there, Son?"

"Yes, but if I'm stuck, I'm stuck. Besides, I don't even wanna do it. I'll probably just write it the night before or something."

"Ken, it's an honor to be given the opportunity. You should take it more seriously."

"I can't force myself to care about something I know I'm going to hate."

"Not with that attitude you won't. You'll do well when you motivate yourself and get it done."

"You give me too much credit," I grumbled.

"What's the issue? It's not like you're unfamiliar with the topic."

"It just is, okay! I'm not like you. I can't just get up in front of a bunch of people without turning into a nervous wreck." I fiddled with my shoelace.

"You know most of the people that will be there."

"Doesn't matter. I'll still hate it."

"Ken, that makes no sense."

"You're right, it doesn't! But that's just the way I am. I can't help it!" Logical or not, doesn't matter! I'll still freak out.

"You can always help it. Quit making excuses for your poor attitude."

"I'm not! I just know how I am. You obviously don't," I responded. I could sense that my comment was not appreciated.

"I don't suppose you've chosen a college yet either?"

"Still thinking about it." I had been. A little. Barely.

"The fall will be here before you know it. I can't force you to apply yourself forever, Son."

"Well I never asked you to!" I sighed and turned to stare out the window again. I could feel him looking at me when we stopped at a light. "Sorry," I mumbled. Are we there yet?

"Ken."

"What?" How far away is the hardware store?

"You know why I'm hard on you sometimes?"

I shrugged. Maybe you like making me feel like a failure? Maybe you like reminding me how much I don't measure up to everyone's expectations? I can't even figure out what my own expectations are...

"I want you to succeed. I hate to see you waste your potential. You're a very intelligent young man, but you've got to start taking some initiative."

"Then why does it feel like you think I'm some kid that needs you to hold my hand or kick my rear so I'll make a move? Why does it feel like you think I'm stupid? Why can't you just trust me to make good decisions in my own time?" I tried to keep my voice as calm as possible. I had to be mature about this. Otherwise, I would prove everything I didn't want to be true. Dad thought for a second before responding.

"I've watched you grow up, Ken. It's hard for me to believe you're almost a man. But here you are, eighteen and graduating. I won't have you under my roof for much longer and I want to make sure you're prepared to be on your own."

"I thought that's why we're fixing the sink."

"Yes, to some degree. It's the same goal with your speech and college decision. I want you to know how to handle those kind of things. I know waiting comes naturally to you, but there are some things in this world you just can't put off. There are others you shouldn't rush into. But you have to have the wisdom to learn the difference, Ken." I didn't say anything for a while, letting his words soak in.

"Sounds like something Grandpa would have said."

"Where do you think I heard it? He said something similar to me when I was your age. Only I had a tendency to rush into things. No patience at all."

"Really? You? But you're so...calculated." I found it hard to believe my father hadn't always been the way I'd known him. A planner who executed things on a reasonable timetable. Steady. Predictable.

"Took me a long time to work on it. In fact, I proposed to your mother on our third date."

"You're kidding! She told me you dated for two years before you asked her."

"She didn't take me seriously the first time. Probably dismissed it from memory. She told me if it was really love, it would keep. Made me want her even more, but I had to have patience to wait."

"Sounds like her."

"She was one of the best decisions I ever made."

"What were the others?" My dad wasn't one to open up often, so I wanted to take in whatever he would offer on the rare occasion that he did.

"You and your sister. After that, my career path, buying a house, things like that."

"Oh." I didn't know how to respond. Maybe it doesn't matter if he doesn't get me, or agree with my methods of doing things. I'm at the top of his list. Maybe that's enough…

"Here we are. Got the list?" he asked as we finally pulled up to the hardware store. I knew our conversation was not going to be continued. I nodded and followed him inside.

Tuesday, May 22nd, 1662

I stopped at Eddy's Gym after school. I needed to think. It wasn't busy this time of day. Good. I quickly changed in the locker room and stretched. I always thought better when I was moving. Today, I was going to seriously think about college. Since the night I had opened my acceptance letters I hadn't given it much thought. It was long overdue.

I waved to Eddy and headed straight for the speed bag. I felt like hitting something. I wasn't ready to decide where I wanted to go, but time was running out. I threw punch after punch, building up speed. I could stay in Duluth. That would be easiest. And cheapest. I could keep living at home for awhile. But do I want to play it safe like that? I moved over to the heavy bag. I wanted to hit something harder. I went at the bag with everything I had, taking out all my frustration. Why can't I make a decision? Why don't I know what I want? I hate it! I hate everything! I hate feelin-

"Easy there, kid! You're gonna split your knuckles open if you keep hitting that thing like that," Eddy warned me, interrupting my thoughts. Eddy had owned the gym for as long as anyone could remember. He was an older man, but still in great shape. He was an ex-competitive boxer and weightlifter, giving him a lot of expertise.

"Oh, uh...sorry." I felt myself blush with embarrassment.

"I'd hate to be that bag the way you're going at it. Not scolding you for going hard, just wrap your hands first. I ain't fond of cleaning blood off the thing." He smirked as he looked me over. I probably looked like quite the character. A skinny blond kid in basketball shorts, a green t-shirt and dirty Chucks, attacking the bag like my life depended on it. My form was probably off too.

"I don't know how," I admitted. Eddy motioned for me to follow him. He walked over to the front desk and pulled a box out from underneath the counter. He tossed me a wrap and grabbed one himself.

"Today you're gonna learn. See, you start here." I studied his technique and tried to copy it on my own hand.

"Like this?"

"No, that's not quite it. Here. You can do it yourself next time." Eddy grabbed my hand and fixed my wrapping job. He talked me through the steps when he wrapped my other hand. I watched intently, trying to memorize everything.

"Thanks. I bet you can tell I'm not a boxer."

"You could have fooled me if you'd stuck to the speed bag. You're getting pretty decent on that."

"I would hope so, I've been practicing since...I don't remember."

"I do. You were fourteen. You were my youngest member ever."

"I had to practically beg you to let me join." I remembered the first time I had ever come in here. Mom had stopped at the dry cleaners next door and I had wondered into Eddy's and asked about a membership.

"I didn't take you seriously. Little did I know you'd be one of my most frequent customers."

"Neither did I. Especially after you banned me from the weight section until I was sixteen."

"Couldn't have you dropping one on your toe and getting your daddy to sue me," he joked. "Want me to check your form?"

"Please." I went back to the heavy bag and threw a couple punches. Eddy watched and then corrected my mistakes. He held the bag and motioned for me to give it a good hit. I liked Eddy. He always had a minute to show me things. He was the reason I wasn't completely lost in the gym.

"Not bad, kid! Might make a boxer out of you yet. Keep going, fast as you can."

"All right." Eddy watched for a bit longer then left to stop someone else from unevenly loading the barbell. I kept punching and got back to my original purpose for coming here in the first place. Thinking. I timed my punches with each point. UMD. Pros: Close to home. Scholarship. No drastic change. Cons: No drastic change- Do I want a drastic change? I stopped punching. Well do I? I thought about my life here, this city, this gym, this house. I liked Duluth. I really did. I've never lived anywhere else. It might be interesting to try it out though. I could always transfer back here if I hate it. I have two, well, three scholarships if I count the wild card.I thought about the other locations, weighing the pros and cons. They all seemed like good options. How on earth am I gonna choose? Maybe you just do. Just pick and don't overthink it.

I switched to weights and continued my internal debate. I looked up at the wall where Eddy had all his articles, awards, and memorabilia. He'd been everywhere. East, west, north, south, overseas, you name it. I finished my workout and went back to the locker room. I made up my mind I would ask Eddy a few questions before I left. I walked up to the front desk where he was reading the paper.

"Hey, Eddy. You ever been to Wisconsin or Indiana?" I asked. Eddy nodded.

"Sure, kid. Cheese land and basketball central. They're good states," he replied.

I started to leave, then stopped. I turned back to the desk and shifted my bag on my shoulder. Why not?Just ask him. I looked down at my Chucks, then back up at him.

"What about California?"

Friday, May 25th, 1962

Graduation was one week from today. Jack was beyond excited. He was headed to Yale in the fall to start on his medical degree. He had been looking forward to it ever since I had met him. He was going on about it now as we sat in an abandoned corner of the library. I was going through some tour books. I had been reading through them in hopes that something would jump out at me. Something that would help me make the decision.

"I wonder what kind of girls Yale will have?" Jack wondered aloud, leaning back in his chair.

"Probably the female kind," I guessed as I flipped though the food section of Wisconsin. How many cheese shops does one state need?

"Ha ha. Very funny. Are you really thinking about Wisconsin?" He reached over and took the book from me. He flipped through it disinterestedly.

"Why not? They have a Circus museum!" I protested somewhat jokingly.

"Well in that case, you'd fit right in! They could put ya' in the freak show."

"For what?"

"For being a young man that seems to have a lack of interest in life's finer things."

"Finer things being girls at Yale?" I mumbled as I snatched the book back.

"Yes. Or girls anywhere for that matter. Still can't believe you blew it with Susan."

"We broke up. Big deal. End of story."

"Shame. She probably would have made you a man." He pretended to look off into the distance wistfully. I shook my head and rolled my eyes.

"Jack, you're an idiot."

"And you never have any fun! What about Nancy? Ever thought about taking things farther with her?"

"We're just friends, Jack." I didn't like where this was going.

"She seems into you. She'd probably jump at the chance to get with you, being the valedictorian and all."

"Jack, enough! We've known each other forever. It's not like that." I hoped that would be the end of it. I knew that with Jack, however, there was no stopping him.

"Why wouldn't she want to snuggle up with her handsome, older, hardworking boy next door? She trusts you, why not go for it? The way she was looking at you at Prom I'd bet she'd say yes in two seconds flat."

"Don't talk about her like that, Jack! I told you to drop it! I would never take advantage of someone like that! You're disgusting sometimes, you know that?"

He held up his hands in surrender. "Whoa! I was just joking! No need to jump down my throat!"

"I didn't think it was very funny. Don't think Nancy would either."

"Fine. Sorry, Hutch. Didn't mean anything by it. I wasn't thinking."

"Well maybe you should before you open your mouth next time," I advised him.

"Okay, I'm sorry. It was in poor taste."

I knew he hadn't meant it, but it still got under my skin. But why? Do I actually like her like that? Is that why it bothers me so much? Truth was, I didn't know. I did like her, but now I was unsure if my feelings were purely platonic. But it would never work between us. Especially if I go away for college. No way… I left for home, more confused than I ever had been in my life. One thing was clear though. I was going to pick a college. Even if I ended up choosing wrong, it wasn't the end of the world. It will be an adventure no matter where I go. Or even if I stay. Change is inevitable. Might as well get used to it.

Monday, May 28th, 1962

I ate my soup and listened to my family discussing their days. Mom was telling us about how the phones were down at her office, Dad was complaining about some new temp, and Kirsten was talking about the new restaurant she went to for lunch. I wasn't contributing much. I had stayed up late the night before, attempting to make a choice about college. I had made a million lists, played a thousand different scenarios in my head, and stressed about it until I fell asleep. None of it helped much.

"So anyway, it was really good food. I think I'll go back," Kirsten said. "What about you, Kenny? Do anything interesting today? You're pretty quiet over there." I looked up from my soup. Everyone was looking at me.

"Um...not really." It had been a normal, ordinary, regular day.

"How was school?" Mom asked.

"All right. People are getting antsy for graduation," I replied.

"I bet. It's this Friday!" Kirsten reminded me.

"Decided on a college yet?" Dad asked. He asked every night these days. I don't think he ever expected to get an answer at this point. He just asked out of habit. I cringed at the question every time he did so.

"Why don't you let him get through this week first?" Mom suggested.

Bless her. I thought. I could always count on Mom to pick up on my body language.

"Yeah, Dad. The last week of high school is always crazy," Kirsten added.

I wanted to let my mother and sister defend me, put the decision off another week, not worry about it yet. But I remembered what Dad had said to me. You've got to start taking some initiative. He was right. I wasn't sure if what I was about to say was exactly what he had meant. I was scared it was one of those things I shouldn't rush into. But before I could stop them, the words came out.

"Actually, I have made a decision." I stared down at my soup. I had no idea what to follow up with. I hadn't made any decision.

"Well, Kenny? You gonna let us in on it?" Kirsten asked.

"Yeah." Just pick. Don't overthink it. Adventure either way, right?

"Son?" Dad questioned, waiting for my response. I took a deep breath and blurted out the first place that came to mind.

"California. I'm going to California." There was dead silence. Oh, you've done it now, Kenny!

"What?" Kirsten broke the silence.

"I didn't think you applied for any that far away," Mom said, obviously stunned. I was too afraid to look at Dad. I didn't want to know what he was thinking.

"I didn't at first, but I thought it might be fun. Just to see if I got in," I explained.

"California..." Kirsten shook her head and looked down at her plate. Dad finally spoke.

"Are you serious about this, Ken?" I forced my eyes to meet his. He seemed concerned and confused.

"Um...yeah. I...uh...I am." I have no idea! Why did I say California? Out of all of them, why the wild card?

"Do you realize how far away that is, honey?" Mom asked, stunned by the bombshell I had just dropped on our family.

"You haven't even picked a major, Kenny! You sure you want to commit to going that far away when you're still undecided?" Kirsten asked.

She and Mom made good points, but it seemed I had already made my decision. Given, an impulsive and ill-thought-out decision, but a decision nonetheless. I intended to stick to it.

"The cost of living out there is excessively high, son. You'd do better financially somewhere else," Dad added.

"Look. I've made up my mind and I'm sending the letter tomorrow," I stated, faking confidence I did not feel. Internally, I was screaming at myself for doing something so rash and stupid. This wasn't at all how I thought I'd decide. What good are all those pros and cons lists now? So much for an educated and well-researched choice! Forget practicality! Apparently, I'm going to California! What is wrong with me?! My whole family stared at me, shocked. I couldn't take it. "I need some air," I mumbled as I left the room and grabbed my shoes before anyone could protest.

I went outside and walked around the block over and over again. Wow, Hutchinson. What is your problem? I reflected on the events of the school year so far. I had surprised myself a few times, made plenty of mistakes, and worked my tail off. But for what? The next phase? I didn't know, but I had to keep going. At least until Friday. Graduation day...Oh no! The speech! I still hadn't written a thing. I knew I wouldn't be able to do it. There was absolutely no way. I had managed to push the thought away for months, but now the time had almost come. It was only four days away. Four short, agonizing days. I was terrified.