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Western Carolinian Volume 61 Number 15

items 23 of 36 items

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Item 1 - Western Carolinian Volume 61 Number 15

Western Carolinian Volume 61 Number 15

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Item

Details
- Format
  - Publications (documents)
- Type
  - Text
- Source institution
  - Western Carolina University
- Identifier
  - HL_WesternCarolinian_1996-02-08_Vol61_No15_IA13
Transcript

02.08.96. — Invisible Academy A Little I had known my brother all ray life. I say this because I have heard stories of brothers, separated either at birth or in early childhood, who never truly met till much later in their development, and I want to make clear that relations between my brother and I were not as such. We were never close, as brothers in some of the movies I've seen are, not the inseparable pair. Throughout much my adolescence we rarely spoke. He had his room upstairs and I mine downstairs. Because we went to separate high schools our Jays were spent apart. In the evenings he and ' would watch TV, but this was never a great opportunity for kindred bonding; then we would wander off to our separate rooms. Dur- 'n8 the summer following my senior year, owever, we somehow ended up talking ightly more and spending slightly more time ogether. Often we would drink in the down- ars bathroom after our mother had gone to / ' 0r smoke cigars on the porch with our end' JT With°Ut °Ur mother So that by ±e for n SUmmer as we were both leaving durin° h WC madC planS t0 See each °ther »ng the fall break; I was visiting him at the he JCT?ty °f VirSinia at Charrlotsville, and see St C°me thC "eXt time at East TenneS" «te University, where I was going. with flrSt half 0f the semester passed 'ase' classes were not much worse than Little Slumbe Meschach McLachlar they had been in high school. I was passing, when it came time for my visit. I drove for the better part of the day and on into the night before arriving in Charrtotsville. It took a while for me to find the University, then my brother's dorm, then his room. After knocking twice there came from behind the door a groggy "come in." I did. He was dressed in khaki pants, a green button-up shirt and a blazer. Sitting at a desk in the corner of the room with a book lying open in front of him, looking almost awake. "Sorry," he said. "I must've drifted off. How long were you knocking?" "Only a minute," I said. "Oh. You can put your bags there. Beside the bed." I slid them into place. He had been able to get out of a roommate for medical reasons so I had the bottom bunk to myself. We rambled on about little things for a few minutes, but I could tell he was tired so suggested we go to bed and talk more in the morning. He agreed. The next morning I woke up to find him already gone for breakfast. A green post-it note on the door gave instructions to meet him and directions to a cafe. I unpacked a towel, comb, my bath robe and small bottle of shampoo from my suitcase; then wandered around the halls on his floor looking for the shower room. Eventually I asked directions from a tall blond boy with a fat nose and wet hair. After dressing, I took the elevator to the 0\ ,f q > J \ \ Staff meeting for old cadets and new recruits: Friday 9 or Monday 12, both at 3:45 pm. Now hiring staff writers (for nonfiction articles, book reviews, unsubstantiated lies) and cartoonists. 227-7267 lobby and walked through two glass doors onto the concrete. The sidewalk sliced through a large green lawn, dewed with ten o'clock sunlight. I maneuvered my way through the University's neo-classical architecture, to where I hoped to find the cafe, disliking the buildings the more I saw of them. Leaving the campus, I crossed a small street onto an avenue riddled with shops, bookstores and cafes all in sand brown concrete and green tinted glass. There were a few people coasting in and out of a handful of doorways. Most of the doors had red and white closed signs hanging from them. I found my brother seated at an outside table at one of the open cafes, drinking an orange juice next to empty plates. A girl in a red sweat shirt and jeans was in the chair at his left. They were talking. He noticed me coming and brightened up. "Good morning, so you're up. Do you want some breakfast? This is Shari," he pointed to her. She smiled and waved shyly, mouthing the word "hi" without really saying it. "Nice to meet you." I nodded to my brother, "you done eating?" "Ya, but sit down and have something and we'll keep talking with you thrown in." "What about?" I slid into one of the blue plastic seats partitioning the table. "Relations. She's got a father in the army, and an uncle who teaches math." "Well," I said. "Our family isn't even that interesting." Brother grinned. "We had a grandfather who committed suicide, though." "I'm sorry," Shari responded with nervous compassion. "That's all right. We never knew him," my brother went on. "He lost his mind during the Cuban missile scare and hit his head too many times against one of the brick walls on the side of our house." "We also have a dog and a mother," I chimed in. "I've never had a dog, only a cat." "Why's that?" my brother said leaning slightly toward her. "Are you a cat person?" "I guess so. I never really liked dogs all that much. They always look so stupid." "It is a scientific fact," my brother began, only pretending offense, "that dogs are much more intelligent than cats." "But they certainly don't look it," Shari objected. I smiled. "Nope." "Oh, come on," my brother said, look ing a^me, betrayed. "Do you honestly think that Crayon is a stupid animal?" "No, I only said he looked it." My brother shook his blond hair out of his eyes and it flayed in the sunlight, then descended. "I remember one of the nights just before I left for college sitting with Crayon on the porch on that little bench we have. We sat there for a long time with me petting him and scratching his belly. Whenever I got up to leave he would stop me by running out in front and sitting down, or wrapping his paws around my leg. He just wanted me to stay with him. The poor dog was afraid of the dark. So I kept sitting back down. At one point he and I were just sitting side by side not touching and he looked up at me and stared at my pupils for a long time. He looked so human." "Well, he never did that to me." "You never spent any time with him." "Do you miss your dog?" Shari asked my brother, watching his eyes fixedly. She was very pretty and I kept trying to figure out how long they had known each other. "Very much. I haven't been back to visit since school started." "Neither have I," I added. "I go home practically every weekend. I miss my family so much. I need my mother." "What about your cat?" I asked, almost laughing. "I miss her too, but not as much." She began talking avidly to my brother about something and I stopped listening. Her skin glistened brown in the bright amber light. The shadows of a few leaves waved a camouflage periodically over both of them as the spoke. It was not a windy day but a breeze occasionally blew bits of Shari's orange hair into my brother's yellow. A squirrel sifted through some fallen leaves and twigs that covered the edges of the sidewalk, found something and ran away. I felt sleepy. My brother got up. He was wearing grey slacks and an black Oxford sweater. "I'll go get some more coffees," he announced and disappeared into the dimly lit cafe. Shari and I were left by ourselves. She seemed uncomfortable without my brother. I made conversation. "How long have you known him?" "Only a week or so," she said, still looking at the dark opening he had left into. "We met in biology class. . . two weeks ago the day after tomorrow." "He's very nice." "He is." She paused. "He's the kind of person who's really easy to know, easy to be around." My brother was paying for the coffee inside. I could make him out through our reflection in the large picture window of the cafe. "It's very pretty here," I said as my brother began to emerge from the doorway. "I know... I love the buildings."

Object

Description

The Western Carolinian is Western Carolina University's student-run newspaper. The paper was published as the Cullowhee Yodel from 1924 to 1931 before changing its name to The Western Carolinian in 1933.
Details
- Creator
  - Western Carolina University
- Format
  - Publications (documents)
- Type
  - Text
- Date
  - Date original: 1996-02-08
  - Date digitized: 2019-12-02
- Extent
  - Dimension: 22.5" x 14"
  - Pages: 36 pages
- Subject - Topic
- Location
  - Jackson County (N.C.)
  - Cullowhee (N.C.)
- Source institution
  - Western Carolina University
- Source Collection
  - WCU Students Newspapers Collection
- Identifier
  - HL_WesternCarolinian_1996-02-08_Vol61_No15
- Repository
  - Western Carolina University Hunter Library

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