Chapter 49: The Big Not-So-Easy

Thursday, February 4, 1982

New Orleans is an awkward distance from Houston — five to six hours, plus stops. Under other circumstances we might have left early Friday morning — 7am, most likely — and arrived around 2pm, gotten in our hotel, and headed to the tournament.

However, Isidore Newman had a meet-and-greet scheduled for Friday. Lunch at noon, mingling for at least an hour beforehand. We couldn’t attend the lunch if we left Friday.

So, we made a new plan. More expensive for the parents, more fun for us. We’d leave after class Thursday, which should put us in New Orleans by ten. Dinner would be fast food; that saved a stop. The bus had a restroom, which saved stops. We’d probably still stop in Lafayette, about three hours into the trip.

Yes, this was a rented long-haul bus, not a school bus. No one wanted to put up with a school bus for twelve hours, especially with all the luggage we’d have.

From the Debate side, we had most of the team. Janet and Lizzie, Cammie and me, Angie and Gene, Sue and Amit, Emmy and May, Zoe and Adam, Anne and Megan, Kenzie, Callie, and Brad. Of those qualified, Larry and Doug had opted out. Ryan, Bree, and Henry would be at Humble trying to get qualified.

From the Drama side, we had Jasmine and Lexi, plus Paige, Sheila, Sara, Carole, Mikayla, Caitlyn, Debra, and Jennifer. Yes, all girls. I couldn’t imagine what was wrong with the Drama guys, turning down a trip like this. I wasn’t about to complain, however.

We had plenty of room on the bus, which was reassuring, since we’d have at least two, possibly up to five more people going to Dallas just from Debate, and who knew how many Drama kids.

Only five guys were going, leaving a room split of three and two. We’d discussed crazy things like putting Angie and me together, but it wouldn’t have gone anywhere.

Angie and I did score a minor coup. Once we knew we were going, we’d suggested to Meg that she check the hotel Dad had picked. We could’ve stayed somewhere cheaper, but everyone’s parents agreed to foot the extra bill, and this was a quiet weekend in New Orleans, so it wasn’t bad. Part of the appeal was a good breakfast option a short walk away.

So — twenty-two girls, not counting Meg, and five guys on a bus. Not that we needed it, but warnings had been issued about making out. Polite warnings, of the ‘Don’t let me catch you doing anything you shouldn’t be doing!’ sort. Meg was the only teacher; there was no way she could keep an eye on all of us, and she wasn’t about to try. And in this much room we could’ve gotten up to serious mischief.

Of course, we didn’t. Just minor mischief.

Jasmine and I grabbed a couple seats towards the back and snuggled and smooched a bit, holding hands on our way out of town. Angie and Gene had the seats across the aisle.

Since we were on a nice bus with real seats, not just bench seats, we wouldn’t pack three into a row, right?

Wrong. Somehow Lexi wound up in my lap twenty minutes later. What was there to do but wrap my arms around her so she wouldn’t risk falling if the bus should change speed suddenly?

“This is cool,” Jasmine said. “All of us traveling together. Hopefully, we keep it up for MacArthur and for State.”

“This sure beats school buses,” I said, nodding.

Lexi grinned. “I don’t know. My seat is lumpy.” She wiggled her ass, which did nothing to cause her seat to get less lumpy.

“Get a room!” Angie said, winking.

From the front came Meg’s voice. “No one had better ‘get a room’ while on this trip. What you do on your own time is your own business!”

And, from behind us, I heard Janet giggle a bit, softly. “We totally have a room!”

Cammie’s voice followed. “Yeah, but you have to totally share it.”

“Bogus!”

I smooched Lexi, then Jasmine. After a bit we settled into a quiet half-nap. That lasted for an hour; then, Cammie decided we needed to sing. So, sing we did. No surprise that, on the whole, the Drama kids had better voices, though Angie and I were starting to show the practice we’d been getting.

We rolled into Lafayette around 8pm and hit a truck stop. Thanks to the restroom on the bus, we didn’t create an overwhelming line. A bunch of us bought snacks and stretched our legs.

By 8:20 we were back on the road, arriving at our hotel right around 10:30. Meg checked us in, we unloaded the luggage, then settled in. While none of us loved the idea, we left the heavy evidence files on the bus. If something happened, our season was pretty much over, but that would be true if we took them into the hotel and it burned down, too.

The guys flipped a coin for rooms. Gene and I would be rooming together, with Amit, Adam, and Brad taking the other. For the girls, Angie, Sue, Anne, and Megan had one room; Janet, Lizzie, Cammie, and Zoe had the second; and Emmy, May, Kenzie, and Callie had the third.

On the Drama side, some of the rooming amused me. Jasmine, Lexi, and Paige had one room. Sheila, Sara and Carole had the second; Caitlyn, Debra, Mikayla, and Jennifer the last room. I knew for certain that not only had every combination of girls in the first and second rooms dated at one point or another, but also that none of them had any concern about doing things around the other. I wondered how much sleep they’d get, and if I’d hear the stories.

The third room was all juniors. I wondered if the juniors were as adventurous. Based on rumors, I suspected so. I guessed Meg would make a few bed checks. I doubted that would accomplish anything, and she likely wouldn’t try very hard.

We got settled in and hit the hay right away. Yes, Gene and I joked about inviting Angie and Jasmine to sneak over; no, we weren’t about to try it. That would be a very different bed check and it wouldn’t go over well.

Friday, February 5, 1982

We were up by 7:30am — that’s late, on a school day — and met in the lobby to go to breakfast. Angie and I led the way. The restaurant — a block down the street — wasn’t that big, and was a bit overwhelmed by twenty-seven teenagers and one adult. Meg had called in advance, though, and they handled it as well as possible. Everyone enjoyed the food and Angie and I got a lot of thanks for suggesting it.

We went back to the hotel, showered and changed, and were on the bus by 10:30 for the short trip to Isidore Newman. By 10:45 we’d parked and headed in. In the back of my mind, I hoped Laura’s school had made the trip, though I doubted they would.

At least here I wasn’t the only guy wearing a pink shirt with my suit. This was a more eclectic crowd. White shirt, navy blue suit was still the standard, about half with a vest. But there were lavender shirts, blue shirts, pink shirts, yellow shirts, even an orange shirt amongst the guys. Similarly, for the female debaters, understated blouse and blue, black, or beige skirt was the trend, but there were girls in colors — Janet in pink, of course, but she wasn’t the only one — and I spotted at least two girls wearing a suit and tie. Neither looked too butch; I might well have missed a few who were more flamboyant, or who were so butch that they simply passed for boys at a cursory glance.

We mingled. Most of the kids were from schools within a reasonable drive of New Orleans, but some had flown in. California, New York, Massachusetts, and Virginia all had representatives, as well as from closer states: Arkansas, Tennessee, Mississippi, and Alabama.

I chatted with a couple of dozen people, just exchanging quick greetings and handing out a few of my cards. The size of our group surprised them. Most schools weren’t bringing twenty-seven people this far, even combining Drama and Debate.

Unfortunately, I saw no sign of Laura. Or maybe that was fortunate? I’m not sure how it would have gone; it might have thrown me off terribly. And, of course, she could still turn up.

I found my role in this somewhat amusing. No one on the team had been to an out-of-state tournament before. Only Emmy had been to a summer program, and that was a short trip in the summer of 1980.

Except me, of course. Just not in this life. I’d done a summer at Northwestern, either forty-some years ago or a year in the future. And I’d been on a Memorial trip to the University of Pennsylvania two years from now. I wondered if it would happen again.

So, despite my apparent inexperience, I was the most comfortable in this setting and it showed. I think watching me just be myself and not worry about it relaxed everyone else.

That’s not counting the Drama kids; all the juniors had been to summer programs. But their approach was totally different, with lots of hugs and flirting and silly — or naughty — backstage anecdotes. And wrap party anecdotes. Some of which led to considerable giggling and blushing.

There was a strange sense of déjà vu around some of the kids. I finally placed it. I’d met a hundred kids or more from across the country at Northwestern. I could barely remember a handful of them, and even then it was vague, but I suspect some of these kids had been there. I just set it aside. There was nothing I could do about it. One of them could be like us, but I’d never know it unless they dropped an out-of-time reference.

At noon they called us to tables in the cafeteria. The school itself was closed today. We went through the regular cafeteria line, but if the food here was like this on a usual class day I was jealous. Jambalaya, étouffée, gumbo, red beans and rice, boudin, and other Louisiana dishes were the order of the day, with beignets for dessert. I might be in a food coma this afternoon, but I’d be in good company.

Once we’d gotten through the line, the tournament director spoke, welcoming us, talking about how many kids were there, and also about Tournament of Champions qualifying. At this tournament, reaching semis in Extemp or CX would get you a point. Finals got you two. First place, four. Four points would get you an invitation to Tournament of Champions.

In theory that meant we had a shot; in practice ... well, who knew? We were having a spectacular year.

After lunch we mingled a bit more, then most of us headed for the summer program session which started at 1:30. Representatives from a dozen programs were on hand; they’d have tables for the rest of the weekend, but each had ten minutes to extol their virtues. As any Extemper can tell you, ten minutes is a long time. Many didn’t need the entire time.

I was, of course, interested in Northwestern, but still was thinking of next year. Angie nodded along at several, seeming most interested by the camp at Redlands in California — Lizzie and Janet’s likely destination — and Indiana. I wasn’t as sure about Indiana’s program, but it didn’t sound bad. Three weeks, fairly cheap, and maybe a bit broader than some. It had Drama, too, which might be good for Jasmine or some of the others. On the other hand, it wasn’t as good as USC or Rutgers for Drama. Northwestern’s program included Drama only for rising seniors, so it wouldn’t help this year.

By the time they’d finished I was pretty convinced that Kansas or Indiana or maybe Michigan looked like the best options. Indiana was on that list because of Angie’s interest. I thought not Redlands — Lizzie and Janet would be there, and, while it’d be nice to hang out with them, it’d be better to scatter. The more sources for research, the bigger your evidence file.

After the presentation, we picked up paperwork from a few of the camps. Jasmine came by and hugged me. “I know it’d be fun to hang out, but you’re right. It’s not like we could ... you know...” She grinned and winked at me. “ ... and none of them seem strong in Drama. Except Northwestern — they look great — but only if you’re going to be a senior. I’m probably going to USC.”

I hugged her right back. “You’ll have a great time, and it’s what you really wanted.”

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder. And other body parts, too!”

We kissed and headed back to the cafeteria.

Competition started right on the nose at 4pm. They gave us an hour for dinner — very nice of them, even if it was only pizza this time. At dinner, Janet surprised Lizzie with a pair of amethyst earrings for her birthday. I’d never seen Lizzie blush that much. It was very cute. We all sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to her, which prompted at least two other tables to sing to members of their teams. It was a pretty cool moment all around.

We started competing again at 7. At first, I was a little intimidated. Some of these teams had come from far and wide for a shot at Tournament of Champions. It’s a big deal — just as big as Nationals for some people. Some think it’s bigger. But then I remembered the year we were having. I relaxed and got into things and before I knew it, we’d finished for the night.

Cammie grinned as we wrapped up the second round. “I’m feeling good about this, you know? I worried about this, but, they’re just people.”

“Yeah. I feel good about both of my Extemp rounds and both of our CX rounds.”

“Me, too. They were all pretty good.” She hugged me. “Thanks for being my partner this year, Steve. I don’t say that enough. It’s been terrific. I didn’t know you were going to be one of my best friends when you walked in and sat down next to me a year ago, much less when I found out that you’d spotted Mel and me!”