Neil Healdsburg High — 1972 Wild Animals in the Halls of Learning

It is almost the last Monday of Neil’s senior year. Fog lingers in the air impenetrable as suspicion. Neil huddles against the dampness, Huck grips his hunched shoulder delicately between sharp talons.

On Neil’s way to class the hall is blocked by the wide back of Chip, the school’s star football quarterback. He is flanked by defensive tackles, Brian and Tom. In between them, trapped by expectation, is Jim Jackson.

Tall and blond, Chip has eyes as blue and empty as an ice cave. Even alone, he is more than a match for frail, gangly, Jim. Neil swallows. Neil watches. It is like seeing an injured animal caught in a snare.

“Hey faggot,” Chip pokes Jim just under the ribs, making a flat knife of his hand. “Where you goin’… homosexual studies?” Jim doubles over, exhaling sharply.

Brian and Tom stand behind Chip, two muscular pillars. They snicker.

“Hey,” Jim pants, “don’t start a war of words; you’re unarmed.”