Free Message of Love by Jim Provenzano Page B

Temple to Center City. Despite the jostling of the books in my backpack, I enjoyed the brisk fall weather. I would take the usual bus and train back, but wanted to enjoy an excuse for a workout, and Everett told me he liked me a bit sweaty.
    Ware College House embodied all the gothic style and historic charm expected of the University of Pennsylvania, at least on the outside. The halls and rooms had been renovated and divided up into small white-walled near-cubicles, one of few with a private bathroom and other adjustments for ‘the handicapped,’ a phrase Everett disliked.
    His room’s front window next to a desk let in afternoon light. A second window, set back under an angled ceiling arch, faced the historic quad with other ornate brick dormitories squared off to resemble what I joked as the set for some PBS mini-series. Despite its inconvenience, Everett had asked to have the bed scooted to be underneath the window.
    The small Persian rug Everett brought had proven to be a great addition to his almost overstuffed décor. Despite the cautious drive, with wobbling boxes spilling in the back of the van, it had been worth it. A few days before classes began, we’d managed to cram a lot of items from his family’s storage garage in Greensburg into the van, then up and into his new dorm room. A few other guys helped out. Despite our new separation, I had to admit that Everett’s mother had been right about his transfer to Penn.
    “Yes, another ‘Did You Know,’” Everett stated over the quiet classical piano music playing on his radio.
    The phrase had become our sort of running joke, a lead-in when a long passage of reading and note-taking had to be broken with an outpouring of the cluster of information we’d just absorbed. My own homework, a chapter on common parasites among deciduous trees, had yet to reveal anything worth sharing.
    “Until recently,” he read, “the seventies, actually, some states had what were called ‘ugly laws.”
    “Ugly laws?”
    “Pennsylvania had them from the 1890s. Chicago passed one in 1911. Get this; ‘No person who is diseased, maimed, mutilated or in any way deformed so as to be an unsightly or disgusting object or improper person shall be allowed in or on the public ways or other public places in this city.’”
    “Fut the wuck?”
    “The fine was ‘not less than one dollar and nor more than fifty dollars for each offense.’ Can you imagine?”
    “Wow.”
    “Just think; if I’d been born fifty years ago, and been paralyzed, I could be fined for simply going outside.”
    “That’s sick.”
    He tapped his textbook. “Even a few years ago, if my parents weren’t wealthy, I’d be locked up in an institution.”
    “Damn.”
    “Historically speaking, I’m now a double minority,” he said with a slightly confused tone of astonishment.
    “Well, I would think,” I strained a bit as I stood, stretching my legs before approaching him at his desk with a hovering hug, “that even some old-timey version of you, as cute as you are, should be fined for not displaying yourself.”
    He took the bait, returned my hug, turned away from his desk and offered a smooch, actually our first that night. It didn’t promise anything, but I was hopeful. I rubbed his chest, brought my hand up to guide his face back to me for a more forward kiss.
    “Am I staying over tonight?” I asked.
    “Do you want to?”
    “Of course I want to. I just need to know if you want me to, before they roll up the sidewalks.”
    While I made light of it, I didn’t want to take a late train back to Temple. The student newspaper had reported a few muggings at different stations.
    His tiny dorm room had become homey, due to the older buildings’ more historic design. My own new single dorm in the bland modern high-rise at Temple felt bare, and not just because it lacked his presence. There hadn’t been much room for my own stuff after we’d packed the van with boxes of his books, pillows and that