Free Alligator Park by R. J. Blacks

“And when you get your PhD, there’ll be money
for better things.”
    Yes, of course. When I get my
PhD there will be money, lots of money, for all the things I’ve always wanted
but could not afford. I peer at the streets lined with Christmas decorations,
the hordes of people hustling from store to store seeking out that special gift,
and the piles of snow that give the inner city a real holiday feel and think to
myself: yes indeed, when I get my PhD, life will be good.
     

CHAPTER 7
     
     
     
    I drop Will off at the black-iron gates
and make my way to my apartment. Fortunately, parking is a breeze since many of
the students had already left for winter break. I manage to find a spot only two
blocks away, a miracle any other time of the school year.
    It’s five o’clock so I pull
out some ingredients for dinner. My cellphone rings. It’s Logan; what could he
possibly want? I don’t want to talk to him, but then I think, maybe he’s got
good news. Maybe he convinced Dean Haas to give me another chance. I answer the
phone.
    “Hi Logan. What’s up?”
    “Can you meet me at Ricky
Stinks?” he says.
    “When?”
    “At 5:30. Dinner’s on me.”
    “You have news?”
    “Sort of.”
    “Can’t you tell me now?”
    “No, it’s better we talk over
dinner.”
    My curiosity is piqued, and
maybe he does have good news, so I agree.
    “Okay, 5:30’s fine.”
    “Good,” he says, and then
hangs up before I have a chance to say anything else.
    I freshen up a bit, redo my
makeup, then dash out the door. The sidewalks are clear now so it’s an easy
thirty minute walk to Ricky’s. I follow a group of students through the front door
and into the pub. Logan’s all the way in the back, in the quiet area, where
students pull all-nighter’s. I sit down on the opposite side of the table,
facing him.
    “How are you doing?” he asks.
    “Fine,” I say.
    “Let’s order dinner first.
Then we can talk.”
    He hands me a menu and a few
minutes later a waitress stops at our table with a pen and scratchpad in hand.
    “What are you having,” she
asks.
    “A flounder sandwich and hot
chocolate.”
    “Instead of the hot
chocolate, make that two Bailey’s Coffees,” Logan interjects. “And go heavy on
the Irish Cream.”
    The waitress notes it on her
pad, and then, turns to Logan.
    “And for dinner?”
    “I’ll take the T-Bone with a baked
potato.”
    The waitress scribbles it down,
then heads to the kitchen.
    “What’s with the Irish
Cream?” I ask.
    “Just want you to enjoy
yourself. You’ve been through a lot lately.”
    “So you have news?”
    “You’re moving?” he asks.
    “How do you know?”
    “When there are ads all over
campus with your name and number on them, and you’re selling off furniture, it
doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.”
    “Yes, I’m
moving,” I say.
    “So you got
admitted to another university. How did you manage that without a referral?” he
says with a sneer.
    “I’m just taking some time
off.”
    “You should be trying to get
back into Dean Haas’ favor. Not screwing off.”
    “I know, I know. I need a
change of scenery. There’s nothing for me here right now.”
    “Never say never. There’s
always a way.”
    The waitress places our Baileys
on the table. I take a sip; it’s strong as usual. They don’t hold back on the
liquor at Ricky’s.
    “What should I do,” I ask.
    “It’s complicated, but I have
a plan.”
    “Tell me.”
    “Not now. Let’s just enjoy
the moment and talk business later,” he says.
    I take another sip. I can
feel the alcohol go right to my head. I need some food to sop it up.
    “I wish she’d hurry with the
food,” I say.
    “It’ll be here soon.”
    Logan takes a gulp of his
Baileys; I do the same.
    “Where are you going?” he
asks.
    “Florida.”
    “Vacation?”
    “Just to clear my head. And I
got a hunch something might pan out for me there.”
    “A hunch?” 
    “New places, new faces, you
never