“One Tin Soldier” – The Original Caste
“Well, someone got up early,” Mike said as he walked into the kitchen and found Ted sitting with his hand in a bowl of ice. “I told you Hilary was too much woman for you. Go back to Elaine before you get hurt really badly.”
Ted stood up and dried his hand off on a wet dish towel and looked out the window at the thermostat on the porch. “50 degrees already and sunny. You can’t mess my day up, Anderson. Not today. You just can’t. If I could cut my own pancakes, I’d say let’s go down and get breakfast at The Squirrel.”
“Seriously, your hand looks broken.” Mike studied Ted’s bruised, scraped knuckles. “What the hell did you hit?”
“An idiot.”
“Anyone I know?”
“Might have been Pot Head, but I don’t think so.”
Mike shrugged. It was no skin off his nose. “I haven’t heard from Jeff. I tried calling him, but they wouldn’t put me through.”
“Mom will be back before dark, and she’ll get him out.”
“Is Hilary okay?”
It was Ted’s turn to shrug. “You know what I learned last night?”
“You can break your hand if you hit someone hard enough?”
“Yeah, that and there are a lot of blood vessels in your face. But more importantly, I learned that I really care about people’s reasons for doing something. That guy had cut a fire hose because he wanted to have fun, and the ROTC building burned down.”
“The ROTC building burned down last night?” Mike’s eyes widened in shock.
“Yeah, that was part of what happened. That guy really pissed me off, so I decked him . . . and then Hilary got all pissed with me, so I dumped her and came home.” He smiled as he remembered the surprised expression on her sweating, soot-streaked face. When she saw how badly she had looked, she would die. “All in all, I’ve had a pretty good spring quarter so far. I waited until the last three months of a four-year education to actually learn something.”
Mike just stared at Ted, trying to put the pieces together in some order that made sense to him. “I’m not sure if pancakes and coffee would make this clearer, but I never turn down a chance to see Barbie.”
“Let’s get Don, Stan, Cliff and Rick up and head in for breakfast and tour the Hill. They’ve got all these neat armored personnel carriers and trailers full of ammunition all over the place. There’s a bunch of those Guardsmen that they pulled off the truck strike on campus. And you’ll like this, there are choppers all over the place.”
“Don’s not back from that hometown visit with Lisa, but I’ll check and see who else wants to go. I’ve got to shave and splash on some English Leather, but it won’t take me long.”
Mike bounded up the steps, two at a time and Ted sat back down and slowly eased his hand back into the bowl of ice.
By noon Mike, Ted, Rick and Cliff were seated at The Squirrel as they laughed at Ted trying to cut his pancakes left handed. “If you loved me, you’d cut these up for me, brother,” Ted said, only half teasing.
“If we loved you,” Cliff said, “we would have kidnapped you to get you free of Hilary sooner. What a bitch.”
“It took me a while to see it for myself, all right? Ouch, this sucks. I can eat or drink, but not both at the same time.”
“What are we doing after breakfast?” Rick asked.
“I want to walk around the campus and take pictures of the troops, the tanks, choppers and everything. What a story we can tell our kids and grandkids,” Cliff said, patting the camera case that sat on the seat next to him.
“Cool, it’s like we’re in Nam except nobody’s shooting at us. Better than us going there, isn’t it?” Mike asked.
“Come on, it’ll be fun.” Cliff was pretty sure they’d go with him, and he wasn’t wrong.
“I’m game,” Mike said.
“Count me in,” Ted voted.
“Let’s go,” Rick approved.
The big displays of hardware were along the front of the campus along Hilltop Drive and behind Wills Gym in the parking lot. That’s where the troops were camping out and the armored personnel carriers were parked. At every intersection on campus stood several Guardsmen. Some were so young, only the uniform made them look different from the students that walked around them. Some were actually still students, doubling up their classes and their Guard duties. Sometimes a slight finger wave from a soldier at a familiar face could be seen when the squad leader was looking the other way.
Mike parked in the main library parking lot and the four walked up Hilltop Drive. “Hold it,” Cliff said every few feet as another one-of-a-kind photo was taken and the film in the camera advanced with a flick of his thumb
“How long before you’re out of film?” Mike asked.
“This is a 100 shot roll. I brought several,” Cliff smiled as if proud to be well prepared.
“Hold it,” Rick said. “Let’s circle around behind that soldier over there . . . the one that girl is approaching.”
“What girl?” Cliff asked.
“Shit, Cliff, the one in the black raincoat, long, bare tanned legs and straight blond hair. Wake up, you’re the one with the artistic talents, right?” Mike asked.
“How did she get tanned legs in Kent?” Ted mused aloud.
Rick and Cliff walked up behind the soldier and worked their way around as the girl stepped closer.
The soldier stood silently, hands out in front of him, holding his rifle barrel with the rifle’s butt resting on the ground between his toes. He looked to be about 20 years old, was clean shaven and had no hair protruding out from under his helmet. He was clearly taking his assignment very seriously.
The girl walked along the path, passing up several soldiers before stopping in front of the one that Rick had pointed out.
“Hi soldier,” she said in a soft voice. Her face was almost angelic and her full, red lips spread into a smile when she spoke. Cliff was already busy taking shot after shot, and the sound of his shutter seemed to give her confidence as her eyes stopped darting around and fixed on the soldier.
“Hi,” is all he said. His lips didn’t move.
“My name is Amy.” Her eyes shifted to the name on his uniform. “And yours is Stiles. Hi Stiles,” she almost whispered.
As she moved within about a foot of the soldier, Cliff squatted down to get the best angle. A couple of clicks, and he had switched to a close-up lens.
“I brought you a peace offering, Stiles,” the girl named Amy said as she reached into the pocket of the raincoat and pulled out a yellow rose. “I took the thorns off, so you don’t get hurt. People shouldn’t hurt other people. A yellow rose is for friendship, you know.” Gently, she stuck the long green stem of the rose into the barrel of his rifle. His eyes never left her face as he forced his gaze forward.
“Do you have a girlfriend, Stiles?” She spoke in low tone, almost haunting.
The soldier didn’t speak, but his eyebrows arched in reaction.
“What is she doing this weekend while you’re out playing soldier?” her soft voice attempted to penetrate his heart. “Tell me, Stiles.” She slowly unbuttoned her coat. “Is she as pretty as this?” She let the coat fall open and even helped by grabbing each lapel and pulling it wider. She was buck naked. She tilted her head as if to be listening for his response. “Too bad you have to stand here all day Stiles. We could go back to my place and be alone.”
Stiles’ eyes could no longer resist. His gaze lowered and his eyes bugged out as they focused on the girl’s full, ripe breasts. There was no sign of a tan line on the soft mound of her stomach and his view dropped down to her blond, curly-hair-covered crotch.
Cliff continued to take pictures and the girl smiled at him and winked.
“Sweet mother of God,” Rick breathed behind Cliff.
“I’ve enjoyed our visit, Stiles. I have to be going now. I’ll really miss you and our chats. Don’t let these big, bad student’s hurt you now.” As slowly as she opened it, she closed her coat, turned with a swirl of her stick-straight hair and walked back down Hilltop Drive toward East Main Street.
“All your film gone now?” Rick asked Cliff.
“I’ve never seen anyone do that on a public street before, and I thought I’d seen it all,” Cliff said as he looked at the counter on this camera. “I used about 30 shots, but it was worth it. These are getting developed tonight. I’m adding them to my Lottery Exhibition.”
Rick and Cliff joined Mike and Ted back on the sidewalk. “Nice view, Hef?” Ted asked.
“Amazing. I’ve got to agree with you after seeing her tan go all the way to her toes. How do you do that in Kent in May?” Cliff joked.
“Pot Head tells me there are a lot of people here from Chicago stirring shit up,” Mike reported. “It’ll be interesting to hear what Sam has heard from the county attorney’s office.”
“You don’t get tans like that in Chicago either,” Rick commented, still stunned by the spectacle.
“Make me a copy, please. Mike and I didn’t have the angle you guys did,” Ted said.
“How about you guys?” Cliff turned to Rick and Mike, both of whom reluctantly shook their heads.
“Barbie would kill me.”
“That image is burned on my retinas. I don’t need a copy,” Rick commented.
“Where to now, Cliff?” Ted asked.
“The back of Wills Gym. The soliders’ camp and most of the hardware is there.” He had just finished answering when a two-seat helicopter went over where they were standing. Cliff wheeled around and managed to get three or four shots off. “That’s what was flying over us all night last night. That search light makes it look like daytime at night.”
“How do you know all this shit, Hef?” Mike finally had to ask.
Cliff pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. “Press pass! Got me everywhere last night, no questions asked,” Cliff smiled as he unveiled his secret.
“What did you learn with that access behind enemy lines?” Ted was curious to know if Cliff’s experiences were similar to his own.
“I learned the governor has the Guard all juiced up. These guys are dead on their feet from the truckers’ strike and now this. Some of them haven’t slept for three days. I heard some of the guys say they’ve been told to use whatever force necessary to drive these outsiders out of Kent,” Cliff recalled as they walked toward the Commons, the site of last night’s arson.
“Maybe Pot Head was right, huh?” Mike thought out loud.
“Sounds like it. They kept saying last night that Ohio law gives them the right to shoot, if necessary. I mean they’ve got live ammo.” Cliff stopped and took a picture of the smoldering remains of the ROTC building.
“What time do we have to be off the streets today?” Rick asked.
“I think we need to be back to the house by 8 p.m. We should get some beer and pizza before we go home,” Ted suggested.
“I’m not sure these guys can be trusted, you know?” Cliff said.
“Why not?” Mike asked.
“They seem like they’re out of control.” Cliff looked around at the soldiers. “They’re young and inexperienced. Some are still juggling classes and most are operating with little or no sleep.”
“Yeah, I have a kid in my accounting class who brings his rifle to class and props it up in the corner during the lectures.” Rick shrugged. “At least, he can catch a nap there. Our video professor can’t flunk him for sleeping through class.”
They started to walk back to the library parking lot when they came upon a large gathering of protesters sitting in the street at the intersection of East Main and Lincoln Streets.
“We’re not leaving until they do,” Mike stated the obvious. The exit of the library was also occupied.
“What’s their beef?” Rick asked as he walked closer to the crowd which had grown larger by a hundred or more people in just ten minutes. A shaggy-looking man dressed in torn jeans and a baggy, dirty sleeveless t-shirt stood up and yelled, “We demand that Mayor Satrom and KSU President White meet with us to discuss the Ohio National Guard’s presence on our campus. This is a police action that was taken and is not warranted. We’re all students, and this is a University campus, and we insist that the Guard must leave.”
The crowd cheered and started to chant “Go, go, go”
The Guard Commander began to talk into his bullhorn. “I have spoken with the command station, and they told me to tell you that your demand is reasonable if two conditions are met. First, this intersection must be cleared and second, everyone must return to their homes and dorm rooms now. The meeting will be held at 9 a.m. tomorrow at the president’s office.”
The people in the intersection began to talk and argue. Finally, one stood up. “We accept. We’ll be back tomorrow at 9 a.m.”
The crowd cheered “We won, Guard Go Home.” But they began leaving the intersection and heading up the Hill toward the dorms.
“We better get the hell out while we can,” Cliff suggested. They hurried to Mike’s car, got in and started to drive out of the parking lot when the sounds of helicopters could be heard approaching.
The commander could be heard over the bullhorn. “Tomorrow’s meeting is hereby canceled and all students must return to their dorms immediately. The curfew is in effect as of now.”
“Shit,” Ted said. “Guard speak with forked tongue!”
“Told you,” Cliff reminded them. “These guys are crazy. Let’s get out of here.” Cliff wasn’t a risk taker, and he didn’t want to start now.
The students that walked out in the open were followed overhead by choppers, and those in the trees on the front campus were being pursued on foot by Guardsmen who used their clubs and bayonets, being careful to not actually skewer anyone. But they weren’t quite so restrained with their billy clubs.
“Damn,” Rick said, “did you see that tear gas being shot from the chopper?”
“You sure?” Mike asked.
“There goes another one.” Rick pointed his finger toward the trees.
“Amazing,” Mike said.
“Come on, Mike. Let’s go.” Cliff felt his anxiety rise. “It’s getting dark, and we need to be off the street.”
Mike put the Pontiac into drive and slammed the accelerator pedal to the floor. The car fish-tailed onto South Lincoln Street and Mike asked, “Clear your way?”
Rick in the passenger seat yelled, “Clear.”
The light was red but Mike peeked around the corner and, seeing no cars, gunned the accelerator again as they skidded around to the left and then headed west on East Main Street. Within two blocks the inside of Mike’s car was lit up as the sound of a Guard chopper could be felt overhead.
“How high is he?” Mike asked.
“Maybe 75 feet,” Rick answered, leaning out the open window and looking up. The chopper followed them all the way back to the house that was about two miles west. They were there within three minutes, max.
Mike turned in the driveway and the chopper went on scanning the streets. “I lost him,” Mike joked.
“If you say so,” Ted spoke up. “Let me out.”
They got out of Mike’s car and walked to the porch when they were nailed by a bright searchlight again. “Still think you lost them?” Cliff asked.