Fahrenheit 1600 (Victor Kozol) Page 2

  “I hope you have time to come and visit us some weekends with all your studying,” a somewhat delusional Albert said as he shook his son’s hand goodbye.

  “Oh, I’ll try Dad,” promised Victor, his eyes looking over his father’s shoulder observing a freshman coed in cut-off jeans who looked like she could use some help moving a box.

  As his parents’ station wagon pulled out of view, his mother waving from the passenger seat, a feeling of euphoria overcame Victor. For the first time in his life he was completely free. He was also no longer in Duryea. While Wilkes-Barre was not exactly a big city, he didn’t know every single girl here since grade school. The possibilities were endless.

  Wilkes University wasn’t a big school and it wasn’t Ivy League, but what it lacked in prestige it made up for in charm and friendliness. It was the gateway to the professions for many local first generation college students. Most of the resident students lived in dormitories converted from the former homes of the industrial magnates who built the town on the Susquehanna River during the last century. But Victor was even luckier. He convinced his parents to let him live in an off campus apartment right away; on the grounds that it would cost the same and would give him more privacy to study. An advertisement on a campus message board in front of the library was full of offers from students looking for roommates. There was no housing shortage in this slowly contracting former coal town.

  Victor had contacted Andy Moyer, whom he met once over the summer. Andy was a computer science major and conformed to type: Lanky dark hair cut in a mullet, or perhaps simply allowed to grow that way, low-effort clothing choices consisting usually of sweat pants, free T-shirts, and glasses. He was an otherwise attractive young man, but socially awkward and eager to please the confident young Victor. He also really needed a roommate to help pay the rent after his former roommate graduated.

  For his part, Victor immediately liked the college senior’s indifferent approach to house cleaning. The apartment was the standard undergraduate man cave of pizza boxes, dirty socks, and Led Zeppelin posters, but Victor knew it would be perfect for his designs and just hoped that Andy didn’t get in the way. The key would be to get into his new roommates good graces right from the start. To this end, Victor set up his stereo system in the living room where Andy could also use it instead of in his room and set about rolling a joint after stowing away his other possessions. The stereo blasted “Kashmir.”

  “Oh man, you know, I’m such a big Zeppelin fan.” Andy said, cracking open a cola and wiping a bit of sweat from his brow after having helped move exactly two of Victor’s boxes upstairs.

  Victor feigned surprise, took a largish toke on the joint, stretched luxuriantly and asked, “So, what’s the plan this weekend?”

  “Oh, well, I hadn’t planned much. Maybe have some guys over to watch the game tomorrow.”

  “So, what, aren’t there any big parties the first weekend?” Victor’s visions of college life were largely informed by repeat viewings of “Animal House.” “What about the fraternities and sororities?”

  “Wilkes doesn’t have any. The founder, Dr. Francis, felt they promote ‘elitism’ and banned them. It’s one of those things about this place you’ll get used to.” Andy shrugged.

  “So what’s the policy on throwing a party of our own?” What’s the landlady like?

  A jolt of dread went through Andy at the thought of Sophie, the building’s owner and formidable custodian, but he didn’t want to admit to fearing an elderly woman before his younger, but clearly hipper companion.

  “Oh, she’s pretty cool. I haven’t had any problems with her.”

  This was true, but largely because Andy did little else but write computer programs and play Dungeons and Dragons with some other CS majors at the kitchen table. Andy always had the feeling, though, from the cold stares Sophie gave him when he met her on the stairs that she wasn’t someone he’d want to cross.

  Victor’s mind strategized like a chess player when it came to his own pleasures. He had already come to the conclusion that Andy’s friend base was not going to make for a good party, nor would his dorky roommate likely know where any of the good parties would be held. He himself didn’t know anyone, but that was no barrier. Weren’t parties all about getting to know people?

  “Why don’t we throw a party?”

  “What? When?” Andy stammered.

  “Tomorrow. I’ll make some fliers. We can charge ten bucks a head or do you think that’s too much.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Okay, then five. You’re 21, right?”

  “Well, yeah, but.”

  “Perfect. I’ve got a bit of cash to stock the place in the beginning. Once we get a crowd, you can always go for a beer run. It we get cheap stuff like Stegmaier or Old Milwaukee, we should even be able to turn a profit on this.”

  “I guess…”

  “Great! Well, I guess we should start making the flyers.”

  In a flight of creativity, Victor created Wilkes University’s first ever’ Freshman Fete’, although the crowd was not limited to freshman nor even to college students. Anyone with a fiver got in and Victor became a minor celebrity on campus.

  As Andy had feared, however, this course of events was neither unnoticed nor approved of by Sophie who lived on the first floor. The pair were awakened most Sunday mornings by an ill-tempered yet vigorous old woman decked out in her Church-going clothes complete with hat and handbag. The visit was meant to be both a punishment for the severely hungover young men and a shaming rebuke for their behavior, although the latter aim was lost on Andy and Victor. For them, Sunday morning was little more than a void they filled with dreamless sleep.

  Sophie would have loved nothing better to throw them both out, but things weren’t what they used to be in Wilke-Barre. Between the junkie on the 2nd floor and the lady who kept strange hours across the hall from her, the other clientele in her building were nothing to be proud of.

  College students were at least somewhat respectable. It was also usually possible to get their parents to pay for larger repairs from the damage they caused, and no matter how bad they were they always left after a few years. By the look of this new kid, Sophie was guessing he wouldn’t be around for very long. And, as in most things, her utterly unsentimental nature was spot on. Victor’s social life was on a collision course with his, or rather his father’s, dream of him becoming doctor.

  CHAPTER 2

  College Life

  By January, the verdant green hills surrounding Wilkes-Barre turned brown as the temperatures hovered in the twenties. Brisk biting wind swept down along the Susquehanna River penetrating even the heaviest coats. Life had moved inside, but this was a boon for Victor: His shindigs had become so well-known around campus that they are by invitation only, a triumph for Victor’s social life and finances. Each party usually cleared about $100, after beverages were factored in. During this time, Victor’s chief source of anxiety had been keeping Sophie at bay and not getting evicted. And yet Victor’s party enterprise ironically brought him closer to Sophie’s own anxieties as he had to contend with his own irresponsible “temporary tenants.” A recent party guest managed to smash the toilet so badly, Victor had to fork over $300.00 for a replacement.

  Then there was the little matter of the summons from the Wilkes-Barre police for excessive noise and disturbing the peace; and if Sophie thought Victor was hard to pin-down for his many transgressions, the pseudo-anonymous party set that flowed in and out of Vic’s apartment was impossible to bring to account. Yet the party money continued and outweighed any other concerns for the present time. The spring semester looked even more promising than the one just ended, at least socially.

  “Do you really want to go into medicine Victor?” asked a stern Dr. Grant, Victor’s academic advisor for his pre-med program.

  “Well, I was always pretty good at biology and it seems interesting …”

  Dr. Grant quickly followed this rather weak statement of
intent with a rundown of Victor’s even weaker grades the past semester.

  “Victor, aptitude and potential are wonderful things, but they have to translate into results. Did you know that sixty percent of pre-med freshman end up doing something else?”

  Victor, not quite sure if this was a rhetorical question, just nodded his head in acknowledgement.

  “Victor, the fact of the matter is that we have a limited number of seats available in this department for pre-med. It’s a competitive major. A lot of young people want to become doctors.”

  Again Victor nodded, feeling increasingly ill at ease with the direction this talk was taking.

  “Look, I can’t justify allowing you to stay in the program with these grades. I’m going to have to put you on academic probation for next semester. Everything that is C has to come up to B, but the real problem is the D’s and F’s. They have to come up to a C; and remember, no medical college is going to look at you with a C average. You’ll have to have at least a B average by your senior year.”

  “Okay.” Victor managed to say in a tone that was much more optimistic than he felt. “I understand, Dr. Grant. I know I can do it if I just focus.”

  “Yes, I’m sure you can,” said Dr. Grant, grateful to have reached the end of the conversation.

  He would be able to write in his file that a warning had been issued. Along with the letter Victor had already been sent, the inevitable end of the young man’s pre-med aspirations was no longer his concern.

  Victor left the handsome 19th century brick townhouse which housed the biology administration, with its high ceilings and ornate moldings, the legacy of the town’s great coal barons, feeling oddly relieved. Deep down he knew his current entertainment enterprise was at odds with any chance of making it to medical school. Now that the prospect of leaving the program was placed before him, he realized that he didn’t even mind. Who wanted to be a doctor anyway? They worked crazy hours and were confronted by the sick and dying. His father’s business seemed downright pleasant in comparison. At least those people were dead, not gasping physical wrecks looking at him to halt the inevitable. Perhaps he could become an accountant or school teacher. The course work would be easier and the job much more pleasant. By the time he reached his door, Victor was riding a new wave of optimism.

  You’re only young once, and if you waste it now you can’t come back later and retrieve these days of freedom and glory, he mused to himself.

  And so Victor’s second semester at Wilkes wasn’t really any better than the first. For one thing, he was forced to space out his parties so as not to run afoul of Sophie’s narrowing tolerance. There was always the nagging thought that maybe he should turn over a new leaf and actually spend a couple hours some nights studying. But Victor fundamentally lacked the ability to sacrifice for long term goals. Clever as he was, he was a ‘carpe diem’ sort of guy. Vic could lose himself in many ways. There was television, listening to music, phone calls, a little pot, and yes dates with some of the girls. Time passes quickly when you are having fun. Just as the weather was breaking with sunny days and new life all around outside, Victor had to face the end of the second semester. He still had no idea what he was going to do with his life, but it seems others did.

  Dr. Grant, in an even shorter meeting than the last time, told Victor matter-of-factly that he was out of biology and pre-med. He could switch to another major, Dr. Grant suggested sociology or psychology, and reapply to the program if his grade improved. In this scenario, Victor would be unlikely to graduate within four years, but that wasn’t a problem for the school.

  When Victor saw his father’s car out front to pick him up for Easter break, he mentally reviewed how he would sell his change of heart about going to med school. By the time his slid into the passenger’s seat, he felt fairly confident, that is until he heard his father’s cheerful greeting.

  “And how’s Dr. Kozol doing this fine spring morning!”

  “I’m not a doctor yet, Dad!” Victor managed as the car left the city headed for Route 81, the highway that ran northeast towards Duryea.

  After asking about his father and the business (good, plenty of business, i.e., death), Victor decided to work in his main objective for this trip; convince his father that flunking out of the pre-med program was a lifestyle choice and great career move.

  “You know, Dad, one of the reasons I really wanted to be a doctor was to help people.”

  “Sure Victor, that’s a nice motivation.”

  “But, in today’s world a lot of people have more mental and emotional problems. I think I might be more interested in helping people this way.”

  “What, like as a psychiatrist?”

  “I was thinking of something more in the line of therapy. I’ve been reading a lot about it.”

  “Yeah, but you don’t need to go to medical school for that stuff.”

  “I guess that’s it. I’m thinking of switching my major to psychology.”

  “What! Why even go to college! You’ll never get a job with that!”

  “That’s not true, Dad. There are lots of ways you can apply a psychology degree.”

  “I don’t know, in today’s economy …”

  In the back of Victor’s father’s mind, he had resigned himself to Victor running the family business after all. And who was to say that psychology wouldn’t be a good way to prepare for it. At least the boy would have a college degree.

  Nothing was said to Victor’s mother over the Easter weekend filled with her famous scalloped potatoes, ham, and pickled red beets. Victor’s sister came home for the holiday and Victor was only too happy for the distraction.

  Vic finished up the semester ingloriously by having failed only one course, biochemistry. Of this Victor was proud. Since he lived in an apartment and not a student dorm, staying in Wilkes-Barre for the summer was not a problem. Victor found a job at a local market.

  So Vic went back to Wilkes, and as a sophomore was able to stay in school as a C student, but he knew he would never get back into pre-med. So he did what he always does, he went back to periods of lethargy punctuated by bursts of energy in throwing and attending parties. Vic realized he had to be more careful because Sophie was always vigilant from her downstairs perch. He knows the days she went to her sister for a visit and schedules his affairs accordingly. Vic actually skated through two more years of college this way. But it was the end of his junior year when things came to a head. Vic was spending even less time in a major he really had no interest in. His grade point average plummeted to below a D and Vic was on his way to being finished at Wilkes.

  If this wasn’t bad enough, someone left the water running in the tub during a party, which was full of ice and beer. It overflowed and started to leak down into Sophie’s apartment. By the time it was noticed, a section of her kitchen ceiling collapsed into two trays of pierogis she had just made. Sophie ordered Vic and his roommate out, but only after presenting him with a bill for $2,000 to replace a section of the ceiling and clean up the mess. How to keep this dual disaster from his father was going to be the greatest challenge of Vic’s life.

  CHAPTER 3

  The Family Business

  Victor’s father Albert was sitting on his back porch admiring the wonderful summer scenes and taking in the fresh air all around him. But his thoughts were elsewhere; he was thinking back eighty years when his grandfather, Stanislas Kozlowski came to America to work in the then booming coal mines in northeast Pennsylvania. His son Stanley, who liked to be called Stash, shortened the family name to Kozol and began working for an undertaker (as funeral directors were called back then). He found life in the sunlight infinitely better than the dangerous and unhealthy working conditions of the mines. In the winter, the only time miners saw daylight was on Sunday; it was dark when they left for the mines and dark when they came home. Now that’s depressing, thought Albert.

  Stash was married but with his wife working, he was able to save enough for the tuition to attend an eight week cou
rse in Philadelphia at the Eckles College of Mortuary Science. After that he officially registered as an apprentice to the undertaker he was working with for two years. Finally, he took the test and was awarded a license to practice undertaking in the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. When his mentor, Stanley Sipkovich, retired in 1932 Stash put out his own shingle and became the official Polish undertaker for Duryea.

  Even though it was the middle of The Great Depression, Stash had supported his family of four children quite well; they were raised in middle class surroundings. He had the added benefit of being looked up to as a needed professional in his town. Stash sent two of his sons to four-year colleges, his daughter married, and his third son, Albert, followed his father into Eckles Mortuary Science School in Philadelphia to become what is now called a funeral director. It was Albert who was to first help in and finally take over the family business. The Kozols, in 1939, moved into a retired doctor’s mansion and remodeled the first floor into what was now a funeral home. The upstairs was the apartment for the family.

  This expansion was necessary as people no longer held open casket viewings of their deceased relatives in their living rooms, but rather at the local funeral home. After serving three years in the U.S. Army during World War II, Albert returned home to partner with his father in the business.

  Albert was a smoother, more polished version of his father since he had a high school education and one-year at Eckles. He was an active member of Holy Rosary Polish Catholic Church, and also donated to the neighboring Polish National Church and other churches. Albert was in The Knights of Columbus, Kiwanis, Veterans of Foreign Wars, American Legion, and served on the library board. Funeral directors were known to be great ‘joiners’. So, when it was time for his father to retire, Albert was more than ready to seamlessly continue the decades old family business. By doing so Albert was able to hold on to his core business and add some new families.