Getting to know Charles

I rested for an hour, letting the long ride pass through my mind; while I did, Charles read, lying on his stomach, his feet pointed toward the ceiling in a youthful way. I thought of asking him what he was reading, because it seemed such an old book, , but I was so tired I slipped into a dream before I could.  

When I woke he was sitting at his desk, for we both had our own, going over a lengthy paper. He seemed to be editting a draft of something; a paper no doubt, and it got me excited; being at school seemed to finally rush upon me and the thoughts of classes and learning excited me so much that I almost yelled.  

"Hey, Charles, what ya' doin'?" My suddeness caught him by surprise, because he didn't know I was awake, and his reaction toppled his soda and almost knocked his little desk over. The pages he held were saved from being completly ruined, but the others -- say, 15 or so -- were soggy through and through and black ink, mixed with some red, ran in all directions.  


Charles slowly turned in my direction, his face glowered for a moment, but it relaxed. "Nothing," he said slowly, "just a report due next class." I glanced at the clock on the wall. It read 12:30. Midday. "I thought I would put some final touches on it while you slept, you see, it's fifty percent of our semester grade. I should have turned it in yesterday, but because I am so thorough with my grammar, I wanted everything to be perfect. I have a good chance of a 4.0, with only next year to go, and I..."  

He stopped talking because the soda was running onto his leg. "Ahh, man, I'm sorry. I didn't realize..." I stopped talking, there was nothing I could say. So I asked. "When is it due?"

"In about thirty minutes," he answered, sadly.  

"So, you're 4.0 is ruined and it's all because of me."

"No," he stood up. "I should have turned it in yesterday. It was ready. I don't know what I was thinking." He walked to his bed, sat on the corner and unbuttoned his pants.

"You want if I should help you..." I stopped. "I mean, if I can help, this being my first day." But, he only shook his head.  

"It's complicated. I've been working on it for weeks. The paper explained, in theory, how certain structures and buildings sprung up in remote parts of the world around the same time; and how they had to be connected in some way. Not to mention the knowledge of true North and the alignment to certain stars, the cultures, and the almost uncanny exact of detail of so many books of religion.


This caught my attention. "Religion?" I asked.

"Well that is just a little part of it. Take this example, which is more easily explained: somehow, and I try to explain why in my paper, China, Egypt, South America, and more, but you get my point, started building pyramids at about the same time. These places being so far apart, especially with South Amercia, it would seem impractical that they all got the idea of pyramids at the same time." He paused and let me think about it. "So, how would you explain it. All these places, so far apart, how did they know about building pyramids at the same time?"

 I remembered the tower of Babel from Genesis and knew that men lived in one place, together, and at one time they tried to build a tower to heaven. But it wasn't a tower, it was more of a city who's walls kept rising, and layer after layer was build one on top of the other, until finally God seperated men, putting them far apart. Because God knew if we lived together in one place, speaking the same language, it would be easy for Satan to deceive us. So we got seperated and spread all over the world, taking with us the old ideas.

"I don't know." I answered. "Maybe men all lived together once and pyramids might be an old idea."

He scoffed. "Old idea? It was an engineering marvel, even now we don't know how they did it, and with such accuracy that even now they are still within 1 percent of being perfect square." He laughed again. "Old Idea, indeed."

I smiled to, wanting him to like me, for we had to live together. I stood up then and gave him my hand. He took it. "I am really sorry about messing your report up. I no I can't help you rewrite it, but I could copy it for you and even set to work now, if you want." He smiled and shook his head.

"Don't worry about it. I got this school eating out of my hand. Plus, I can get a few more days when I show Professor David these pages." Then he stood. "But thanks for the offer. The old room mate would have laughed at me and poured the rest of the soda on my head."