Читать книгу The American College of Switzerland Zoo - James E. Henderson - Страница 2

At lunch on the second day of classes my new friend Jim Wilds and I were waiting for the food to be served as our buddy Gil walked in with the brown-eyed blonde of the Fab Four – four beautiful blondes that Wilds and I had spotted on our first day on this Alp. The three of us had yet to inspire the slightest interest from them or from the wealthy and arrogant but even lovelier goddesses who seemed to run the girls' dorm. It would be some time before we'd realize that we were in the wrong class and that “class” had nothing to do with history or French.

As we watched Gil, we wondered if his blonde hair and sharp profile had just broken the barrier. He said something to the brown-eyed blonde, and she smiled as she headed to join the other three. Wilds and I sat in silent amazement as Gil walked to our table.

“Have either of you heard about a prince coming today?” Gil asked.

“Do you know that girl?” I asked.

“Who, Dee-Dee? Yeah, she’s in my French class,” he responded.

I looked at Wilds and asked, “What are we doing wrong?”

Wilds smirked and said, “Maybe we should bleach our hair blonde. What’s this about a prince?”

“I don’t know. Dee-Dee was talking about how all the girls are getting dolled up for the arrival of the prince, today. I thought maybe one of you had heard something.”

From behind me a strong feminine voice with an upstate New York or Vermont accent said, “Some prince is supposed to be comin’ in at lunch today. The dorm is in a tizzy!”

I turned to see a slim girl with a very long light-brown ponytail looking at me. She had a square jaw and small, hazel eyes. On second thought, her eyes weren’t small; she wasn’t wearing the eye makeup that I was getting used to seeing. In fact, she wasn’t wearing any makeup, just a healthy tan and some recent sun on her cheeks. That face took me back to my Quaker boarding school.

“I’m Jim Henderson,” I said and held out my hand.

“Kaeti Ecker, pleased to meet ya.” She took my hand with amazing strength.

“What’s this about a prince?” I asked.

“Don’t know any more than that, but it looks like we’re going to find out,” she said as she looked over my shoulder.

As I turned toward the door, I noticed the out-rush of most of the girls in the room. We followed their lead as I introduced Kaeti to my friends. Kaeti was my height in her flats, and slim to the point of having almost no breasts, just a couple of little bumps under her blouse. She wore slacks that hugged her boy-like hips, and she walked with a lithe stride, pushing, cat-like, off her toes. Her walk reminded me of the gymnasts I had worked with.

“Are you into sports?” I asked as we walked.

“Just wait until there’s snow up top and you’ll get your answer.”

“I guess you’re a skier?”

“Love it! You?”

“I played JV soccer for my college last year and gymnastics!” I bragged.

“No, do you ski?”

“Ah, no, – but I can stand on a sled without killing myself.”

“So not the same. You just wait!”

We stood at the balcony overlooking the entry foyer awaiting the prince. The Fab Four were properly arranged in the front, and the rich goddesses were toward the back near the steps up to the girls’ dorm, where they could be seen but not appear overly impressed.

Wilds asked how to greet the prince. “Should we bow and curtsy?”

“I’m not curtsying!” Kaeti said.

“Don’t look at me,” I said. “I’m a Quaker. We got sent to prison in England for refusing to use the Royal ‘You’ with the King.”

“Royal who?” Wilds asked.

I explained that in the 1600’s commoners used “thee” and “thou” with each other and addressed only the King and royalty as “you.” If you said “thee” to the King, you went to jail. Well, the Quakers felt everybody was equal and refused; therefore, they went to jail. Kaeti had a quizzical look on her face when I finished my explanation, but Wilds gave me a goggle-eyed expression that said he had just learned more than he needed to know.

A black limo pulled in front of the school. I wondered briefly how the driver had navigated the curvy narrow road from the valley up to our little village in that large car. Two men in black suits got out. Both looked powerfully built. One came in the front revolving door as the other waited by the car. They were either bodyguards, or the prince was way older than any of the other students. The one inside surveyed the gathered audience and signaled the other, who opened the door of the limo. A tall slim man in a suit got out and walked toward the door. He had collar-length black hair that appeared to hide his face; but as he walked in the door, the truth was revealed. He had very dark skin; our prince was definitely from somewhere in Africa. Everyone stood stunned. Wilds piped, “Wow!” and, without thinking, I said, “Outstanding!” Kaeti punched me in the arm with some force, and the three of us covered our mouths to keep from laughing outright. The effort brought tears to my eyes.

By the time I had cleared the tears, the prince was walking past us, nodding and heading for a specially prepared lunch at the President’s table. I couldn’t help but stare. His skin was very dark, and his heavy hair was sculpted straight down to his collar on the sides and back, and cut into square bangs over his eyes. His hair looked like Prince Valiant’s in the funnies. (Actually, there used to be a TV show with an Indian prince who might be a better comparison, but that guy had beads in his hair.) Once he was in the light, I noticed that the prince was a very handsome guy with dark intense eyes set off by his high cheekbones. He was about six feet tall, lean, and… well, “regal” is the only word for his posture, stride, and manner. He was definitely a prince, only one with a very dark complexion.

While the Fab Four followed his movements with mouths slightly agape, the goddesses managed to keep their cool. I learned later that one girl had fainted from the shock. I felt sure that it was Nonni. I can’t imagine her wealthy southern-princess brain being able to cope with an African prince. Likely the only Africans she knew worked in her home and lived on the bad side of Mobile or wherever she was from. For that matter, I don’t remember any Blacks in public school in the 1950s. But boarding school and college held a mix of everyone. The Quakers had never known prejudice, and I learned that people were people in spite of skin color or religion. In fact, the Quakers, including several of my ancestors, played a major role in the Underground Railroad. One of my relatives even showed me a hidden room in her house that had been used by escaping slaves.

Wilds, Kaeti, and I rushed outside to burst out laughing and to compare notes on the reactions we had seen. When we broke up, I watched Kaeti’s lithe stride as she went back into the building. Her hair was pretty and really caught the sunlight. It wasn’t one color but ranged from blonde in places to light brown in others. You could tell that she left it natural. Nice! Wilds, noticing my focus, poked at my shoulder with his bony knuckles.

“Hey,” I said, “she’s female and she talked to us. Beside I kinda like tomboys. If nothing else she could be a good friend in the girls’ dorm.”

Before heading back inside to lunch, I quickly scanned the mountains across from us. I still couldn’t believe that I was in a Swiss college tucked in a notch on the side of a mountain surrounded by these majestic Alps.