A/N: Thanks for the reviews so far! I have to admit that I didn't know about Elizabeth's sisters, but for the purpose of my story, there will just be Judy, since it's too late to fix my faux pas now :-/. Also re: Nannie, since Nannie's real name or past history was never mentioned in a BSC book to my knowledge, then also for the purpose my of story, Hannah Marks is Nannie. That said, I hope you all enjoy the next chapter in Elizabeth's life!
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Chapter Two
Late 1969. University of Connecticut at Stamford campus.
"Hey, hey, LBJ! How many men will you kill today? Hey, hey, LBJ! How many men will you kill today?"
It seemed like the entire state of Connecticut was yelling the anti-war chant at the top of their lungs, but it was only the kids on the UC Stamford campus. Still, with thousands of college students yelling, it made for a terrific sound. Elizabeth wondered who would come up with such a rhyme. LBJ stood for President Lyndon B. Johnson, of course. America was very anti-Vietnam, and most especially among college kids. Elizabeth couldn't decide whether it was idealistic or just plain naïve to protest the war. Surely these kids didn't think the president of the United States would pull out of Vietnam because of an ugly chant.
Elizabeth reached into her backpack and pulled out a notebook and pen, then approached the first student she saw. "Excuse me!" she called. "Excuse me!"
The guy looked at her. He was probably a senior and most definitely a hippie, with his long hair and tie-dyed shirt. Elizabeth gave him a polite smile and introduced herself. "I'm Elizabeth Marks and I'm writing a story for the school paper on this protest. Would you like to be interviewed?"
"Hey, groovy," the student agreed.
"Great!" Elizabeth beamed at him. "Okay. First of all, what's your name?"
"Taylor Masters."
"Okay, Taylor." Elizabeth wrote down his name and then asked, "Do you really think protests are effective in convincing President Johnson to withdraw troops from the war in Vietnam?"
"Hell yes," Taylor replied. "The more protests, the better. If Johnson would get it through his skull that we are against this war, as United States citizens, then he has to listen to us. This is a democracy, remember?"
Elizabeth was frantically writing down his responses. "Okay, but in the grand scheme of things, it's just one protest. How do you think it will effect Johnson's decisions?"
"Just one protest here, sure," Taylor said. "But there are so many more protests all over the country. Have you been to D.C. lately? There's thousands of radicals and shit protesting right in the capital that Johnson would have to be stupid to miss it. He needs to open his eyes and look at what this is doing to the country. There are little 18-year-old kids getting drafted to go and kill people, or else get killed themselves. People are deserting, dodging the draft to hide out in Canada. How much more evidence do you need before you realize that this war is wrong?"
Elizabeth finished writing down his quotes, thinking about what he had to say. He had a point. Elizabeth thanked him. "This will be a very valuable interview to the paper," she said.
"As long as it gets out there," Taylor responded. "Peace, Elizabeth."
"Peace," she repeated, and then plunged into the crowd to find more people.
It was December of 1969 and that winter in Connecticut had been long and cold, but none of the students seemed to mind. Everyone was in the courtyard and on the steps of surrounding buildings at the heart of campus. The protest was almost like a big party, with everyone yelling and mingling. Elizabeth had attended several rallies and protests so far and she had to admit that she enjoyed them. She didn't necessarily agree with the cause but she did like feeling like she was involved in something important. Mostly she went to cover the protests for the UC Stamford paper. Majoring in journalism, like her father wanted her to, was opening doors for her and she definitely enjoyed it. Working for the school paper was a great opportunity to meet people, share views, and get extra credit. So she was sticking with it.
Elizabeth turned to a fresh page in her notebook and looked around, trying to decide whom to approach next. In the crowd, she spotted an Asian girl who looked about her own age, sitting on a large blanket on one of the sidewalks not far away. Elizabeth hurried over to approach the girl.
"Hi," Elizabeth said brightly, plopping down onto the blanket. "It's great out here, isn't it?"
The girl made a face. "Not really," she said with a sigh. "I'm bored and I'm freezing and this is all pointless."
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "How come you're here, then?"
"I'm only here because of my boyfriend," the girl answered. "He's so into this protesting stuff and I'm supposed to support him, but I honestly don't see what the point is. Johnson doesn't care what we think anyway."
An opposing point of view! Elizabeth grinned as she pulled out her notebook. "Mind if I interview you? I'm Elizabeth Marks, from the school paper."
The girl smiled back. "Sure, might as well. I'm Miyoko Yamamoto, but everyone calls me Mika."
"Wow, that's a pretty name," Elizabeth commented. "Are you Japanese?"
Mika laughed as she ran a hand through her long, silky black hair. "You couldn't tell?" she joked. "Seriously, I am. My parents moved here when I was a baby, so I've lived my life in America but I was born in Tokyo."
"That's groovy," Elizabeth commented. "And I thought I was exotic, coming from New York City!"
The girls chatted and Elizabeth got her interview. By the end of the afternoon, not only did Elizabeth have two great interviews and a brilliant story idea, but she also had a new friend.
* * * *
Freshman year seemed to fly by. By June of 1970, Elizabeth and Mika were best friends.
They did everything from shopping together to getting their hair done and attending parties together. Even though they were as different as night and day, they were as close as anything. In fact, Elizabeth thought that their differences were what made them such good friends. Mika was very smart. She was majoring in education so that she could come a librarian. As she told Elizabeth, "I always loved the library when I was a little girl. What could be better than being paid to go there?" Of course, Mika loved to read. Her favorite authors included John Steinbeck and Edgar Allen Poe, and her favorite book was The Great Gatsby. She was conservative and while everyone else dressed up in bell-bottoms and peace symbol necklaces, she usually wore neat skirts and perfect blouses. But with her long black hair and exotic looks, she was beautiful and she usually had several boys asking her out.
Elizabeth was more outspoken but no less brilliant. She was turning into a very good journalist, through her classes and her steady work on the college paper. She had a way with words and usually got her point across, which made her admired and respected by everyone who read her work. She was always noticed, despite her physical appearance: she was small and thin, with straight, dark blonde hair and big brown eyes. Along with working on the college newspaper, she had also joined SAW, an on-campus peace organization. SAW stood for Students Against War. In the past year, Elizabeth had developed a large interest in politics. Not only the Vietnam war, but current events and war in general.
So, even though they were different, they were close. So close that, in December, when Mika's roommate moved out, she invited Elizabeth to move in. Sharing a room made Elizabeth feel like she had a sister in Mika.
The second week in June was finals week. Elizabeth was practically glued to her desk chair, working on her final story for her journalism class, one which had nothing to do with politics. She was working on a "Freshman Development" piece, about how students dealt with being away for their first year of college and the experiences and challenges they faced. Elizabeth knew she had a good topic, but she was having trouble expressing what she wanted to say in a way that would make sense.
"Are you okay?" Mika finally asked on Tuesday afternoon, after Elizabeth had tossed down her pen and dropped her head onto the desk.
"No," Elizabeth groaned into the desk.
Mika put aside her history text and sat up on her bed. "What's the matter?"
"This stupid paper," Elizabeth said, sitting up and giving Mika a despairing look. "It's total crap."
"I'm sure it's not. Here, let me see what you have so far." Mika reached out and picked up the pile of papers from Elizabeth's desk. Scanning over the messily scrawled paragraphs, she murmured as she read. "Developing new friendships. . . participating in activities. . .Liz, I think it's coming along nicely."
"It's okay," Elizabeth admitted, "but I can't express what I'm trying to say. I mean. . ." she shook her head. "I don't know."
"Well, you have until Friday," Mika reminded her. "I'm sure you'll tie it all together before then." She handed Elizabeth the papers.
Elizabeth nodded and took a sip of the coffee from the mug on her desk. She nearly spit it back out again. "Oh, gross," she said. "This coffee is only like three days old or something."
Mika made a face.
"I'm going to take a break and go down to the vending machines," Elizabeth stated. "Want anything?"
"Chocolate," Mika said with a grin. "I need some energy." She handed Elizabeth a dollar bill, and Elizabeth headed for the door, calling, "I'll be right back," over her shoulder. Out in the hallway, Elizabeth barely noticed the usually chaotic dorm hall. They lived in Robinson Hall, which was co-ed and full of rowdy students, especially on their floor. As usual, several doors were open and students called out to one another from across the hallway over the blare of music from someone's record player. There's something I ought to include in my paper, Elizabeth thought as she hopped around a couple of girls sitting on the floor. During freshman year, students develop an immunity to the sort of chaos one finds in dorms. Some students can even take it a step further and use their immunity to tune out a particularly long lecture, which just adds to the heightened tension of exam week. Elizabeth rolled her eyes and made it to the doors at the end of the hallway, which led to a sitting area and the vending machines. Outside the hall, it was much quieter. Elizabeth sighed and then headed to one of the candy machines first. She bought Mika and herself a chocolate bar, and then bought a soda. As she turned back for the hallway, she popped open her soda---and bumped into someone.
"Whoa!" she exclaimed in alarm, jumping out of surprise. Her freshly opened soda bottle dropped from her hands, and Elizabeth could only watch in horror as the soda spilled all over the person she'd bumped into.
"Hey!" the guy cried.
"Oh, wow, I am so sorry," Elizabeth apologized. "I didn't see you."
The guy looked down at his black T-shirt, which was now damp. "At least I was wearing dark colors," he said finally.
"I'm really sorry," she apologized again. She looked around for paper towels or napkins but was unable to find any. So for lack of anything else to use, she took off her flannel over-shirt and offered it to him.
He looked down at her flannel and then looked back at her---and then laughed. "I've never had a girl offer me a shirt before," he said.
Elizabeth shrugged sheepishly. "Well, I guess it's only fair that since I ruined your shirt, you can ruin mine."
"I think I'll take you up on that," the guy said. Still grinning, he took the flannel and patted his own shirt dry. "Thanks."
She shrugged. "Sorry again." She started to head back for the hallway, but the guy called after her, "Hey, what's your name?"
She turned and studied him. He was cute, now that she looked closer. Tall and muscular, with short, dark reddish-brown hair and blue eyes. "Elizabeth," she answered.
"Elizabeth," he repeated. "Uh, I'm Patrick. Patrick Thomas." He offered a hand to her, and Elizabeth smiled, taking it. "Nice to meet you," she said. "Do you live in Robinson?"
"Nah," Patrick said. "I live over in Stewart Hall, but I'm over here for a study group. Exams, you know." He made a face.
"Tell me about it," Elizabeth agreed. "I'm stuck on a killer paper for my journalism class."
"Journalism, huh? Hey, are you Elizabeth Marks?" he asked.
"That's me," she confirmed.
"Oh, hey, I've read your stuff," he said. "Compelling."
She smiled. "Thank you. I'm a journalism major and I really enjoy it. What's your major?"
"Haven't declared one yet, but I'm leaning towards business. That's where the money is, you know." He glanced at his watch. "I gotta get going. Listen, Elizabeth, this will probably sound pretty forward of me, but….would you like to go out to dinner with me sometime? Maybe a movie?"
Elizabeth's eyes widened. He was asking her out? Usually it was Mika who attracted men like flies, not Elizabeth. Especially not after she'd just dumped soda all over them. But still, Patrick looked genuinely interested in her, which she could tell just from the way he was looking at her. As if she were some goddess instead of a freshman in baggy jeans and a tie-dyed T-shirt. Elizabeth found herself smiling back at him.
"Sure," she accepted finally.
Patrick's eyes lit up. "Hey, great," he said. "How's tonight?"
"Tonight? Well…." Elizabeth thought of her paper. She should probably stay in and get it done. On the other hand, maybe it would be better to put it away for a night. Thinking about it too much was as bad as not thinking about it enough. Elizabeth pushed any doubts out of her mind and gave Patrick another smile. "Pick me up at eight," she told him. Then, before she had a chance to change her mind, she turned and headed back into her hall. She walked, as if in a daze, down to her room and once she let herself into her dorm, she closed the door and leaned against it.
"Wow, about time," Mike said, looking up from her textbook. "What happened? I was about to send a search party after you."
"I spilled soda all over this guy," Elizabeth said, tossing Mika her chocolate bar. "One of the most dreamy guys I've seen."
Mika winced. "Oh, wow, that's too bad," she said sympathetically.
Elizabeth flashed Mika a broad smile. "It was the best thing to happen in my life."
* * * *