Chapter 8: Fall Term of Graduate School

When the fall semester commenced, I decided to start looking for a part-time position. The money would be used to pay for my education and living expenses.

Lt. Barnes recommended me for part-time employment as a support person, which surprised me. My task was to continue improving the database and teaching the police how to utilize the computer system. I was happy that Lt. Barnes liked me, even if he didn’t show it. I’d say hello whenever I saw him. He grunted in response.

Sometimes I would ask him how the case was progressing.

His reply was always the same. “When we make an arrest in this one, you will be the first to know.”

He may appear uninterested, but I knew he was just frustrated as I was. Homicide detectives hate the prospect of having an unresolved case on their records. It looked like they weren’t doing their jobs.

The second weekend of school, I chose to go to a football game at my previous college because I didn’t have any reading to do. I was actually no longer a student, but now an alumnus.

Although I did everything the same way I did as a student, it seemed different. I went to the fraternity house and walked to the stadium with the other guys. We sat in the same block of fraternity jerseys as we had typically done. The only difference was that I no longer had to show my student ID to go in; instead, I needed to pay admission.

The game was boring to watch. Neither team wanted to add any points on the scoreboard. When I’m bored, I people watch. I looked around, and Ginny was looking right back at me. Only this particular occasion, the expression was frightening. She was the predator; I was the prey. I glanced away and concentrated on the game. I would sneak a glimpse at her, and she was continuously watching my every move.

By halftime, I’d had enough and wanted to get away. Instead of going down the stairs and leaving the stadium routinely, I chose to climb to the top of the bleachers. To the left of the press box was a twisting incline connecting to the concourse and exits. I concluded that this may be the best way out and avoid a confrontation with Ginny.

It wasn’t in the cards. As I approached the concourse, someone grabbed my arm and spun me around. As I already stated, I am not little person. It would take someone with considerable physical stature to whirl me around like that.

“Why didn’t you phone and let me know you’d be coming for the game? I would have sat with you,” a too familiar voice inquired. “I had hoped you would have more free time for us now that you have graduated.”

“Ginny, we’re no longer in a relationship. We have no claim over the other. Find a good college frat dude and drive him mad. I am sure there are plenty of people on campus who would jump at the chance to be with you,” I said. “We’ve had this talk before, and I’d want to move on. Have a good life, Ginny. Please let me be.”

As I moved away from her, I noticed tears gathering in her eyes. Her expression showed wrath rather than grief. I quickened my speed, putting as much distance between us as possible.

For the rest of the semester, I avoided home football games. I missed homecoming and socializing with my fellow alumni. It would have been interesting to compare everyone’s post-college experiences. With Ginny around, I decided it was better to remain away. I had thought that, given time, she would abandon her fascination with me and move on.