I Class, Lunch, and Recreational Fun

A Chapter by Theodore Grant

Click. Click. Fwoosh. Simon's lighter finally ignited allowing him to light his cigarette as he listened half heartedly to the professor's lecture on the deeper meanings behind Alice in Wonderland. This was a core class and so required of all students to take at some point. He and his friend, Kaspar had managed to put it off until their senior year. Their problem stemmed not from the course, but the professor; proof that perhaps tenure was not always a good thing. As Simon took a drag from his cigarette, the professor dragged on about the concept of empirical reality. This was really more Kaspar's cup of tea than his own. Simon preferred less abstract concepts to dwell on. As the professor delved deeper and deeper into exactly what Lewis Carrol was conveying, Simon chuckled to himself as he prepared for a show.

The year was 1972, and Simon was attending Cranston University with his longtime friend, Kaspar. Kaspar, unlike Simon, was enthralled by the type of subject matter that Professor Veal was lecturing about. Reality and its relation to the human consciousness was one of his favorite things to discuss and even the subject of his senior thesis. Unfortunately for him, Veal had one of the narrowest minds he had ever come across. The very ambiguity that so many literary devices are built on was lost on him, as he would only accept his particular teachings as correct.

"And so we are left with Alice waking from her dream to discover that, much like Dorothy in wizard of oz, it was only ever in her head." continued professor Veal. "we can surmise from her return to the real world that wonderland existed only in her mind and never crossed with the real world."

"But professor," Kaspar interjected. "Could wonderland not exist independently from the normal world, not in Alice's mind but in a dimension separate from her own?"

"No Kaspar,” Professor Veal sighed, “Wonderland couldn't be real. After all, Alice wakes up in the end. Even she recognizes that Wonderland was only in her mind. How else would you explain the instances in Wonderland that clearly correspond to Alice's previous lessons, most notably the lyrical changes to her memorized passages. Were Wonderland real, her interactions with its creatures wouldn't so universally allude to her school learning.”

“But suppose it is real,” Kaspar started.

“There is no supposing, Kaspar!” Professor Veal spat, cutting him off.

As they continued arguing, Simon just dragged on his cigarette until a late student caught his attention. She had just entered the auditorium and was moving up the rows looking for an available seat. As it so happened, the closest was right next to Simon, on the aisle.

At 5'7, Claudia was a little taller than the average girl her age. Her hair, which laid straight down to just past her shoulders, was a dark, deep red. Her eyes were of the same color as freshly mown grass. As she looked to the gentlemen in the seat next to her, she became distracted by the verbal war still being waged at the front of the class. As she turned to look once again at her peer, her attention was drawn not to his mohawk, nor his piercings or tattoos, but to the cigarette hanging from his lip.

“Would you like one?” Simon asked the girl who just say down to his right, as he spotted her eyes darting towards his cigarette. Simon found her quite fetching, lithe and tan wearing a mix of purples.

“Yes, please.” Claudia responded. As he handed her one and proceeded to ignite it for her, he introduced himself.

“I'm Simon, by the way.”

“Claudia,” she responded after exhaling. “I just transferred this semester and have had difficulty finding my classes. This is my 4th time being late this week.”

“Don't worry about it,” Simon assured her and took another drag from his own cigarette. “All Professor Veal's pretty easy. The only thing he cares about is that you agree with him about his literary analyses.”

--”THE AMBIGUITY IS WHY IT MAKES SENSE!” Kaspar yelled, startling Claudia.

“So then why are they at each other's throats?” She asked, befuddled.

“Oh them?” Kaspar asked as he took another drag. “Kaspar's got a bit of a problem with authority.”

“CLASS DISMISSED!” Professor Veal yelled. As the room began to file out, Claudia continued to talk with Simon and was subsequently introduced to Kaspar.

“So I hear you have a problem with authority, Kaspar. Truth this is?” she asked him with a coy look.

"What can I say? I'm German. My kind aren't so patient with incompetent fools as Americans. And professor veal is as incompetent as a scooby doo villain. Speaking of scooby doo, you've got a kind of daphne look going on. What's your name?" Kaspar asked as he pulled a cigarette. His was much darker than the one Simon had given her, she noticed. When asked about the unique nature of both sets of cigarettes, Kaspar explained that they're a "home made" blend.

"The colors represent intensity with darker being more intense. Assume they're toppings for a cracker. Cheese," he emphasized while pointing to the cigarette hanging from her lip before pointing to his own in turn, "Caviar."

"Kaspar this is Claudia. Claudia, Kaspar. Speaking of caviar, anyone fancy some food?" Simon asked as they exited the class building onto the main campus.

-"I'm starving."
-"I'm starving,"
Kaspar and Claudia answered in accidental synchronization.

"Jinx!" Claudia exclaimed. "Now you have to buy me a soda, but I'll settle for some caviar."

"Absolutely. Never let it be said that I don't pay my debts," Kaspar answered with a grin. As he went to retrieve one for her, Simon asked if she ha any more classes that day. She didn't.

"Here you go," Kaspar handed the cigarette, a nice deep green matching her eyes. As he lit it with a match, Claudia took a deep drag. The paper smelled of blueberries, the smoke of honeysuckle. Caviar may not be too far off, she thought to herself. Meanwhile, Kaspar lit one for Simon as well.

"Wow," she stated simply, "This is truly amazing."

"Oh it gets better," Simon responded, "Come on. We want to eat sooner rather than later."

By the time they arrives at the cafeteria, Claudia understood why. After leaving a trail of smoke in their wake, she realized that her mood was elevated. Their conversation brimmed with laughter. And her hunger had tripled. Claudia came to the realization that she was 100% on cloud 9 geeking stoned.

"You didn't say that was weed," she attempted to whisper to Kaspar and Simon as they sat down at a table. Instead, it was more like muted shout. Thankfully, it was 1973 and marijuana wasn't a large concern of the general populace.

"It’a not, technically," Kaspar answered. "Like I said, it’s my own special blend."

"So it's not weed?" Claudia asked, realizing how funny and ironic that weed is a slang for marijuana.

"In the sense of yes or no, on or off, it's a no," Kaspar started as he took a healthy bite of mashed potatoes. "When I said the blend was home made, I was being quite literal. I crossed various strains of marijuana and other plants to create a quite unique blend high in thc while breeding out the more unpleasant factors such as scent, paranoia, and sleepiness. Once i reached my goals, I then grew, dried, and cured the crop at home."

After a few moments of silence, Claudia realized just what Kaspar was telling her.

"So you basically created a new drug as a hobby at home?" Claudia asked incredulously. "And your parents didn't mind? How do you know how to do all this, to begin with?"

Simon began laughing so hard in response to Claudia's questions that milk came out of his nose. This in turn caused both Kaspar and Claudia to erupt in laughter themselves as grade school nostalgia wafted over them. It was Simon who answered her questions for Kaspar, who was still trying to recover from the fit of laughter.

"No, his parents don't care," Simon answered while cleaning up his recently made mess. "Matter of fact, they taught him everything he knows."

"Really?" Claudia asked, turning towards Kaspar.

"Well, not everything. Just the basics really," Kaspar explained. "They always focused on the more physically healing plants whereas I stick with the more recreational and spiritual ones."

"You're parents don't care that you're CREATING drugs, and they taught you the basics for it," Claudia stated with emphasis. "Sufficiently I confused am."

"Yea, I was too when I first got involved with this guy," Simon sympathized with her. "I'll explain a little less cryptically for you. You remember that little debacle deemed world war II, right?"

"Yea, I think I might have heard of it," she answered with poignant sarcasm.

"Well then you may have heard about how the good ole US of A gave sanctuary to a few nazi scientists and doctors," Simon answered in counter. Claudia instantly lost her smirk.

"Your parents were nazi doctors?" Claudia almost shouted before catching herself.

"Yes. And they taught how to do organ transplants on plants," Kaspar answered dryly. "No. My parents were scientists; botanists actually. They were given asylum due to their medicinal achievements through altering genetics of plants. I guess I picked up a little knowledge around the house growing up."

"I'm glad you learned something useful growing up in your home. God knows I didn't," Simon said bitterly.

"How could you have?" Kaspar asked. After a nod from Simon, he continued, "I mean my parents don't speak English. How were you supposed to learn anything at my house."

"Haha," replied Simon with a sincere chuckle. "You know what I mean. Anyway, I learned more from your parents than General Dickhead."

"Your father is military, I take it?" Claudia inquired.

At this, both Kaspar and Simon paused and laughed quietly, as if at an inside joke.

"Truer words have never been taken," answered Kaspar.

"My father isn't just in the military. He is the military. And boy does he remember who he fought against," Simon clarified.

"My parents," Kaspar chimed in.

"I thought you said they were just botanists working to improve medicine," Claudia said, her confusion evident.

"Ah, but they were GERMAN botanists working to improve medicine," Kaspar explained, "Big difference. Needless to say, our families don't get along."

"Well your parents don't seem to have any problems," interjected Simon, "I suppose that happens with open minds and patience, though."

"Yea, that helps too. Really, it's just that they have no idea your dad hates us," Kaspar corrected before taking another bite of steak.

"What do you mean, ’no idea’? How could they not? He screamed and shouted at them for days once," Simon asked.

"Surely they at least know he isn't fond of them, right?" Claudia asked.

"I haven't told them," Kaspar said in an almost whisper, "From the web I've been spinning these last few years, they actually just think your dad has Tourette's. It actually works pretty well. Every time he yells at them, they just feel bad for the poor guy."

"You're kidding," Simon laughed out.

"No. They just wonder how the US ever won any wars using soldiers with Tourette's," Kaspar replied in a tone of dry ambiguity. Finished with his food, he pushed his plate to the side.

Unsure if Kaspar was joking or not, Claudia decided to change the subject.