Once Upon A Time at College

Chapter Four

By Galen Hardesty

~*~

Daria laid the book down in her lap, leaned over, and picked up the phone off her desk. "Hello," she said unoriginally.

"Hello, Daria," came a somewhat familiar-sounding voice, "This is Charles Ruttheimer."

"Chuck? Uh, hi. What are you doing these days?" she asked, surprised that he'd gotten her number, and thankful she hadn't said "Upchuck".

"Pardon me, Daria. I should have specified that I am Charles Ruttheimer the second."

"Chuck's father?" Daria struggled not to sound as surprised as she was. Why in the world would Upchuck's never-seen and seldom-mentioned father call me? Has Upchuck gone missing? Is his dad calling every girl on his wish list looking for him? If he thinks Upchuck's in my dorm room, he's got another think coming. "What can I do for you?"

"I would like to speak with you about a scholarship, and other matters of interest to you. It will likely take an hour or so. Would you have dinner with me?

What the hell? Daria thought. This call is getting stranger and stranger.

"Uh, no offense intended, Mister Ruttheimer, but even if you're who you say you are, I don't know you at all. I'm alone in a strange city, and I have to be careful," she replied, weighing the arguments for and against turning him down flat.

"None taken. You are wise to be careful. I like that. So allow me to suggest Sunset Bay. It's within easy walking distance of your dormitory, it's large, well lit, there'll be many patrons at this time of day, and the crab is excellent. You really need to hear what I have to say, Daria. It's to your benefit and your family's as well."

Daria was seriously alarmed now. Why is he bringing my family into this? What is this, anyway? Besides which, I don't like the way he calls me Daria, and I really don't like the fact that he knows the physical location of my dorm. Admittedly, there could be an innocent explanation for that. I need more information. "My family's benefit?"

"I'm sure they would appreciate never having to pay another cent for your college education, even if you decide to go for a doctorate?"

Damn, Daria thought, that's a big chunk of bait. How big a hook might he be hiding in it?

His voice came again. "Daria, I only want to talk to you. I can appreciate your caution. I'm cautious too, including about what I say over unsecured phone lines. But my time is valuable."

Well, I have to eat, she thought. Having dinner at Sunset Bay is about as safe as anything I've done since I came to Boston. Safer than walking across the campus, no doubt.

"All right, Mr. Ruttheimer, I'll have dinner with you. Is there a dress code at Sunset Bay?"

"Shirt and shoes is all they ask," he replied. "I have a reservation in half an hour, if that's all right with you."

~*~

After the waiter had left, Daria turned an inquiring look on Charles II. "So, Mister Ruttheimer, how's Chuck doing at Halyard?" She hoped she'd managed to keep the envy out of her voice. Halyard. There was a name to conjure with, especially if it was on your diploma.

Charles sighed, folded his hands on the table, and stared down at them. "He got himself expelled. He patted some coed's rear and she reported him." He winced as he said this, and Daria found herself wincing as she heard it.

The fool! To trade a Halyard education for a pat on some girl's butt? What the hell was he thinking? What the hell was he thinking with? And how must his father feel? "I hate to hear that. I thought he was smarter than that," she said.

"You and me both," he replied bitterly. "He is smarter, he just has a behavior problem of some sort. He'll be getting some counseling, to get that sorted out. And he'll be attending Raft beginning next quarter. Which brings me to what I wanted to talk to you about, Daria. I'd like to offer you a scholarship."

"Well you certainly have my full attention. Please, tell me more."

"All your tuition and fees will be paid for, and all your books and school supplies. You also get an apartment near the campus, and twenty dollars per diem, for food and incidentals."

Daria blinked. All expenses, plus six hundred dollars a month. Before she'd come to Boston, she'd have considered that princely. Even now, after she'd found out how high the cost of living was in the big city, she knew she could get by comfortably on less than that. But she wasn't going to gush all over him in gratitude. Not yet, anyway.

"Well, my friend Jane and I have plans to share an apartment, as soon as we find a decent one with north light."

He drew his cell phone from an inner pocket, selected a speed dial number. After a few seconds, he said, "Carl? Charles. Go ahead and take that single and double on the third floor across from campus. That'll work out fine. Message me when it's done."

He put the phone away and turned back to Daria. "I think you'll be pleased with this apartment. It's a little above the price range I gave Carl to work within, but it's a very nice two-bedroom right across the street from the Raft campus. It gets north light, which I think your friend Jane will like, and I'm told the landlord keeps the tenants quiet, so it's probably more conducive to studying than a dorm room."

Daria flashed back to that awful incident two days ago, in Jane's cramped, cold garret. North light was the only reason she'd moved into it. A fellow tenant had walked in unannounced while Daria had been posing nude for Jane. The first thing he'd done was whip out a sketchbook. Why she hadn't died of embarrassment on the spot, she still didn't know. This scholarship was sounding better and better all the time.

"Uh, that's very generous, Mr. Ruttheimer. What are the conditions of the scholarship? Do I have to maintain a straight A average?" Do public service?"

"Actually, Daria, the grades I'm interested in aren't yours, which I'm confident will remain excellent, but Chuck's. I'd like you to tutor him if he needs it, be sort of a peer counselor if called for, and generally do what you can to keep him out of trouble. He'll be in a one-bedroom down the hall from yours."

Oh, no, she thought. Oh, say not so. Not Upchuck. Not right down the hall from me. Damn it!

"You mean be his nanny, or his au pẻre? That sounds like a pretty big job. I might not have time left over for my studies."

"No, I didn't mean that. Just keep an eye on him and treat him like a friend, basically. He'll have a professional counselor available, but I'd like to have someone close who can see how things are going with him, give him good advice, and can alert me or someone else to a possible problem."

"Mister Ruttheimer, I'm really not qualified for this. I'm just a lowly freshman beating her brains out trying to break into one of the toughest, lowest paying professions there is. I don't know anything about guidance counseling."

"You're being modest, Daria. Chuck has a lot of respect for you. He looks up to you."

"Hmph. Looks up my… um, never mind. My interactions with Chuck have been mostly limited to ridiculing his pickup lines and threatening to kick him in a tender spot."

Ruttheimer smiled ruefully. "I think that's true of just about every female he's met for the past several years. But he says he admires your intellect, and that you're the only one who's ever made him want to excel academically."

Daria blinked, then remembered to close her mouth. "I… have to think he was… pulling your leg about that."

"There's quite a lot in his journal that corroborates it."

"You read his journal?" Omigod! There's quite a lot in Upchuck's journal about me? Eewww!

Ruttheimer looked embarrassed and spread his hands. "Desperate times, desperate measures. I was trying to figure out what was wrong with him."

"And did you?"

"I don't know. It seems to be just a strong libido, but…" he spread his hands and shook his head in a puzzled manner.

"That's certainly part of it. I doubt my intellect is his primary area of interest."

Ruttheimer chuckled. "He's a teenage boy, Daria, and he's aware that you're a teenage girl. As I recall, when I was his age, I could seldom go ten seconds without thinking of sex, and neither could my friends. It sort of comes with the territory. But he is very impressed with your intellect."

"I'd say it was more like three seconds for Chuck, if it weren't for his grades," Daria mused.

"Oh, before I forget, about your breaking into writing? I may be able to help you there as well. Pan Press is one of my companies, you know." Seeing Daria's expression, he continued, "I know, a lot of their titles are kind of low-brow, and some of them are downright trashy, but Pan is consistently profitable, which is rare among publishing houses these days. And one of their imprints is Plato Books."

Daria registered surprise. "I didn't know that," she admitted.

"Good. Plato doesn't want it to get around. Pan Press has several respected imprints like that. Now, I won't order anyone to publish your work, but I will see to it that it gets read."

"I'm starting to realize what a big hurdle that is for a new author. Um, this is all very tempting, Mr. Ruttheimer, but I really don't want to be that closely… associated with Chuck for that long a time. I have a feeling it would turn out to be more of a distraction than it sounds like."

Ruttheimer sighed deeply and looked down at the pie crumbs on his dessert plate. "I was really hoping we wouldn't come to this part, Daria. I offered you everything I thought I could without risking distracting you from your studies. Is there anything else I could add that would persuade you to say yes?"

Daria pretended to carefully consider this. "I can't think of anything."

Ruttheimer bent and picked up a slim leather folio from the floor by his chair. Unzipping it, he removed some papers and laid them on the table. "Another of my companies, Ruttheimer Baby Buggy Bumpers, is involved in a lawsuit, and as things stand presently, will lose. No matter what the amount of the judgment turns out to be, the negative publicity will destroy the company."

Daria felt a knot begin to form in her stomach. "I've heard of it," she said. From my mother, who's been working on the case for a couple of months now. What's Ruttheimer's angle here? To try to use me somehow to get my mother to throw the case? I need more information. Suddenly, it seemed, she was playing for big stakes in a game she hadn't known she was in.

"My name is on that company, and I know it to be a reputable, honorable company that puts out safe, fine quality products. My investigators have found that evidence has been altered or fabricated, exculpatory evidence has been hidden or destroyed, and witnesses have perjured themselves. We're about to introduce this evidence in court.

Daria glanced at the papers, which had the look of photocopies. She wanted to hear everything he could be encouraged to tell her, whether or not it applied to her directly. "Go on," she said.

"Among the people we expect to be charged with fraud, perjury, evidence tampering, et cetera, for their involvement in this are three lawyers from Vitale, Davis, et al… Lothar and Eric Schrechter and Helen Morgendorffer."

"No!" Daria exclaimed angrily, "My mother wouldn't do a sleazy thing like that!"

He pushed the papers toward Daria. She picked them up and looked through them. Memos with Helen's signature. Receipts for documents with her signature. Transcripts of interviews she'd done with witnesses. "I don't see any damning evidence here," she said.

"In isolation, it's not obvious. But each of those documents represents an illegal act committed by your mother, and we can substantiate that. If you like, you can come to the offices of one of my lawyers tomorrow morning, and he will satisfy you as to the truth of three separate counts, any one of which will result in her disbarment and criminal conviction. But that will take a lot of time, time I personally do not have.

This case is before a judge right now, Daria, and my legal team must present this evidence. What I'm offering you, and I wish I didn't have to, is this: Accept the scholarship offer, and the evidence against your mother is not presented with the rest. She won't be charged along with Lothar and Eric Schrecter. Additionally, some of my legal work will be directed to her, resulting in her being made a partner."

"Uh, what about Wolf Schrecter?"

"We don't currently have any evidence against Wolfibald Schrecter. If some turns up, it will be submitted. Why do you ask?"

Daria put a hand to her head as she looked at the papers. "No reason, I guess. I'm just surprised he's not in on it."

Charles II noted the trapped expression on Daria's face, and felt a stab of self-loathing. "He may well be, we just haven't found anything yet to connect him. Look, Daria, Charles won't be your sole responsibility. I'll get him whatever counseling he needs, and his Raft student advisor has agreed to give him extra attention, for which she'll be well compensated. I'll be receiving reports on him from other sources as well as from you, and I'll step in personally if necessary. I'm going to make more time for him in any case. But you'll be the person closest to him, the person he can turn to most easily. I'm asking you to be his friend."

Daria sighed. "Mr. Ruttheimer, I kind of liked Chuck in high school. I sort of sympathized with him. But that was from a distance. The closer he got, the more his libido got to acting up, and the harder he was to like. Don't you think a guy would make a better friend for him?"

He smiled a bit. "I see what you're saying, Daria, and I certainly hope he makes some guy friends here, but you're the only former Lawndale High student at Raft. You're the only one he knows now."

Daria felt like an animal that has made many rounds of its trap, and tested all the bars, and found no way of escape. She couldn't think of anything to say.

"I can tell you're feeling shanghaied here, and I can't blame you, but let me assure you that I didn't set this up in any way. I didn't lure your mother into doing what she did."

"I'll bet that damned Eric Schrecter did."

"I wouldn't be a bit surprised. But I didn't even know about her or him till day before yesterday. Her name came to my attention while I was trying to decide what to do about Chuck, and it reminded me that he'd mentioned you. I saw this as a way to benefit you and your family while helping my son, and I hope you see it the same way."

"Yes, I can see it from your perspective. In your shoes, I might do the same thing. If what you said about Mom is true, that is. I'll have to call her and talk to her. I can find out quicker that way than going to see your lawyer tomorrow."

He thought a minute. "I guess that's okay. Even if she does alert the Schrecters, there's not much they can do. We've already got the goods on them. Tell her not to tell them, though."

~*~

Back in her dorm room, Daria lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling, deep in thought. After some time, she rose, sat at her desk, and began covering a piece of paper with small groups of words and linking the groups with arrows and other symbols. After some marking-through and a change to a second piece of paper, she put down her pencil and studied her handiwork. Then she picked up her phone and punched a speed dial number.

Quinn picked it up on the first ring. "Hello?"

Daria spoke in a stuffy male, british-accented voice. "Quinn Morgendorffer? This is Charles, Prince of Wales. Will you marry me?"

"No way! I don't take hand-me-downs! Hi, Daria. How's Boston? Have you gotten a date yet?"

"As a matter of fact, I just got back from dinner with a multi-millionaire."

"Uh-huh. You must have struck out if you're back this early," Quinn replied.

"He wanted to put me in a lavish apartment and pay all my expenses, but I said no."

"That I can almost believe," Quinn smirked, "You're still on track to becoming a classic cat lady."

"Is Mom handy?"

"She's trying to rip the phone out of my ear, so I guess so. 'Bye."

"Daria?"

"Hi, Mom, how've you been?"

"Hi, honey. I'm kind of frazzled. We're reaching a critical phase in the Buggy Bumpers case, and it's pretty hectic at work. I just got in. How are you?" Helen replied.

"I'm good. Classics is interesting in spots, Psych is boring, but an easy A, Trig is repetitive, another easy A, but Creative Writing is fun. The professor is funny, and he appreciates my sense of humor. And I have some good news."

"What's that?"

"I got a scholarship."

"Oh, sweetie, that's wonderful! Tell me about it."

"It pays my tuition and fees, buys all my books and supplies, pays me twenty bucks per diem for food and incidentals, and I get an apartment just south of campus."

Three seconds of silence, then Helen said, "Oh Daria, that's fantastic! How in the world did you get a scholarship like that?"

"A guy called and asked me to come interview for it," Daria replied.

"Oh, come on! It couldn't have been that simple! Why did they offer it to you?"

"For inspiring others to excel academically."

"Really? Oh, baby, I'm so proud of you!" Helen crowed. "But there must be some requirements you have to fulfill in order to keep it… what are they?"

Daria picked up the mechanical pencil off the notebook in front of her. "I have to keep inspiring one particular student to excel academically. A student named Charles Ruttheimer."

There was a pause, then Helen said, "You mean that obnoxious boy from high school? The one Quinn used to call 'Upchuck'? Daria, I don't want you getting involved with vulgar people like that."

"Mom, don't worry. Chuck isn't all that bad. He's more annoying than anything else. I can handle him."

"Daria, there are things about Chuck and… his family that you don't know, and it would take too long for me to explain. I'm afraid I'll have to forbid you to accept this arrangement for your own good. I'm sure a young woman as smart as you will be able to find a real scholarship or a good part-time job."

Daria sighed and shook her head slowly. She laid the pencil down on the notebook. It was true. "Mom, I understand your concern, and I know some of those things you think I don't know. I also know that if I don't take this job, you're facing evidence tampering and subornation of perjury charges related to the Ruttheimer Baby Buggy Bumpers case."

"What?! That's ridiculous! Who told you such a thing?"

"Charles Ruttheimer the second."

"Well, it's a lie! He's obviously trying to use you to get to me. Hoping to somehow force me to throw the case. That man is dangerous, Daria. Why were you even talking to him?"

"He's the one who offered me the scholarship. He told me when I declined."

"That bastard! Well, I'll tear him to shreds in court! He'll be sorry he messed with my family! I'll…"

"I don't think so, Mom. I've seen some of the evidence."

"What are you talking about?"

"What happened to the affidavit of Marjorie Forester? What happened to the QC analysis on Compound C, batch 3/12/00-4? You signed for both of those documents."

The silence on the other end of the line was deafening. Daria continued, "Dad will suddenly be the sole breadwinner of the household. The trial will be nasty, and you'll have a lot of legal bills. I'm sure you have a much better idea of what those numbers will look like than I do. You'll eventually be disbarred and probably go to prison. I may be able to hang on here at Raft, but it will pretty much put an end to Quinn's hopes of a college education."

Sobs came over the phone. "Oh, God, what have I done? I've destroyed my family!" Helen groaned piteously.

Daria had never seen or heard her mother like this before; hopeless, her defenses in ruins. She felt her stomach knotting up.

"Eric coerced you into it, didn't he? What did he do, promise you that partnership again? Threaten to let you go if you didn't?"

Some indistinct sounds, then, "Both. H-he put the partnership offer in wr-writing this time."

"Well, maybe you can use it for a bookmark. It's no good for anything else, except maybe evidence." Daria did not mention the impending doom of Eric and his brother Lothar. She didn't trust Helen not to pass that along. "On the other hand, if I take this job, in addition to all expenses paid plus per diem and the apartment, that evidence against you goes away, and you really do become a partner. Charles the second steers some of his legal work to the firm through you, enough to give you a lot of clout. Life is better for all of us."

Helen sniffed. "Oh, Daria, you're just trying to make me feel better. You're such a good girl. I don't deserve you…" She sounded like she was fighting off another crying jag.

"You're my mother. You did all the hard work. If you don't deserve me, who does?" Daria said gently.

"B-but I've set you up to be blackmailed by that horrible man because of my greed and ambition," Helen half-wailed.

"Well, holding you for ransom would be a more accurate simile, but he's not actually doing anything illegal," Daria pointed out.

"You're right. I did more than enough of that to go around," Helen muttered bitterly.

"Mom, stop it. I'm not blaming you. All you wanted was to take care of your family. I blame those slimy Schrechter brothers."

Helen sniffled some more, then said, "Well, I blame me, too. I don't know where you got your moral fiber, Daria. You sure didn't get it from me."

Daria sighed again and groped for the right words to pull Helen out of her guilt funk. A little guilt, enough to keep her from repeating her mistake, was good, but Helen needed to quit beating herself up, deal with the situation, and move on.

"Mom, look at the situation objectively. I would've had to get some sort of job anyway. This one is to help a classmate get through college. I could hardly find a better job than that. I get all my college expenses paid plus a per diem, and a nice two-bedroom apartment right across from the campus. Now Jane can stay with me. And Mr. Ruttheimer wants Chuck to get a doctorate, so I should be able to get at least a double doctorate in the same time frame. So I'm at least as well off now as if you'd gotten that partnership your way, which wasn't really a possibility. And so are you, Dad, and Quinn. This is obviously the way to go."

"Sure. That's because Ruttheimer very craftily set it up that way. I have a very bad feeling about this, Daria."

"I understand that, Mom. It's because a mistake you made is presenting me with a choice I'd rather not make. But how many times has a mistake of mine left you with a tough choice?"

"It's not the same thing. Not nearly." The self-loathing was still evident in Helen's voice.

"Mom, ever since before I was born, you've been making sacrifices for your family. Let me do one." Daria chuckled. "Some sacrifice. It's more like winning the lottery."

"I know you're trying to put a good face on it, darling, but it would be worse than that, and we both know it."

"Chuck's not that bad, Mom. He can be irritating, but I actually kind of like him. I used to enjoy swapping insults for his insulting compliments, and shooting down his lame pickup lines. He's bright. He can easily do the work. And I already have three years of experience dealing with him at school."

"Boys aren't always that easy to deal with, Daria, especially when you're alone with them."

"Yeah, I know. I'm not going to claim to be an expert here, but I am an adult now, and I've got to learn sometime. If I have a problem, I'll call you. Or Quinn." Daria hoped that might get a chuckle out of Helen.

"Daria, wait. Don't tell him anything yet. I'll think of a way out of this, and I'll call you tomorrow."

"Forget it, Mom. The only good way out is for me to take the job. I don't want you to do something stupid and self-sacrificing. We all need you. Getting yourself sent up the river isn't a viable option."

"Sweetie, I can't let that awful man force you into this!"

"Mom, he's not 'that awful man'. Well, he may be, but he isn't being awful to me, or even to you. He's a father, and he wants the best for his son. You can understand that. And he's found a way to do good to all of us while he's helping Chuck. There may be scholarships out there somewhere as good as this deal, but they're mighty few and far between. I'm going to do it."

"Daria, no! I forbid it!"

Daria sighed. "Mom, I know you're trying to protect me, and I love you, but you can't forbid it. I'm an adult now, and I've decided to do this. When you think through the consequences of any other course of action, you'll see I'm right. Look, I've got a book report and a short story to finish, so I have to go. Give my love to Dad and Quinn. 'Bye, Mom."

Daria disconnected, then stared at the phone in her hand for several minutes, deep in thought. Then she punched in another number. She heard one ring, then "hello?"

"This is Daria. Look, if I accept your, uh, offer, I can't be put in a position where Chuck thinks he's got me over a barrel. I won't have him expelled for patting my butt, but I can't have him knowing that. And I may slap him silly or stomp his toes as hard as I can, and I'll expect you to support me."

"Quite right. I'm trusting your judgment, and I'll support anything you do or say, within reason. I'm working on a set of guidelines for Chuck, and you'll have a copy of them. But he will not receive a copy of any guidelines I may give you."

"Good. I'll need to be able to get in touch with you in case of trouble."

"I'm reachable at this number most of the time, but I sometimes go places beyond the reach of normal communications. I'll set up a number for you to call and either be connected to me or pass a message to me. You'll have highest access priority."

"Good. Now, I intend to do my best for you and Chuck, but if things somehow get to a point where I just can't do the job anymore, I want to be able to terminate the relationship with no repercussions for me or my family."

"That's reasonable. If you indeed do your best and it's just not working, we'll part ways amicably."

"Okay, I guess that's all… wait. Is that apartment furnished, and are the utilities paid?"

Daria heard him sigh. "I don't know. If not, put it on your expenses. Is there anything else?"

"No, sir, that's all."

"Very well. Good night, Daria."

"Good night." Daria disconnected, and laid the phone down on her desk. He'd sounded impatient with that last question, she thought, as if unaccustomed to thinking about such piddling details and trivial sums of money. She stared at the notes and diagrams on the notebook page in front of her for a minute, then tore it off and threw it in the trashcan.

Opening her Psychology textbook, she began reading the assignment, but it was all stuff she already knew. She soon found herself nodding off. Forcing herself back to semi-wakefulness, she undressed, put on her sleeping clothes, and climbed into bed.

Once in bed, though, sleep eluded her. She had traded several aggravating but known problems for one problem of unknown dimensions. Or had she traded a big chunk of her freedom for possibly illusory security? How good or bad a deal she'd made would become clear in time, she told herself, and anyway, it wasn't like she'd had much choice. Would Jane still want to share the apartment when she found out about Upchuck? Dammit, she thought, now I'll never get to sleep. I should have just gone to sleep at my desk, even if I got a kink in my neck and drooled on my Psych book.

Subvocalizing an imprecation, Daria turned on her headboard light, sat up, dragged the Psych book off the desk, and picked up reading where she'd left off. It worked like a charm. Soon she was sound asleep, and the thud of the book hitting the floor only partially woke her.

Disclaimer

"Daria" and all related characters are trademarks of MTV Networks, a division of Viacom International, inc. The author does not claim copyright to these characters or to anything else in the "Daria" milieu; he does, however, claim copyright to all those parts of this work of fiction which are original to him and not to MTV or to other fanfic authors. This fanfic may be freely copied and distributed provided its contents remain unchanged, provided the author's name and email address are included, and provided that the distributor does not use it for monetary profit. (as if.)

Galen Hardesty [gehardesty@yahoo.com]