Chapter Thirty-Six (Part One)

Right before Melody's class in the big lecture hall, the phone rang, and she was surprised to hear a cheery, high-pitched voice on the other end.
"Harmony?" she asked, somewhat in disbelief. She openly wondered what made her call.
But Harmony supplied the answer soon enough. "It -- it's mom."
Melody's heart dropped to her shoes. It hadn't even been a year since her father passed, and the thought of her mother being ill was just too much to even think about. "What's happened?"
"She's gone crazy, I swear. That Mr. Landgraab came by after school with a package, and mom darn near ran him down the sidewalk with a brush in her hands!"
Melody burst out into laughter. "Mom chased down Malcolm Landgraab with a broom?" she asked in disbelief.
Harmony continued to speak in a rushed, breathy voice. "I've never seen mom so upset. She even said she was calling the cops if he didn't leave."
"Is she there now?" Melody asked.
"Yeah, hold on. Mommmmmm!" Harmony's blood-curdling scream shook Melody a little bit. Melody heard another little girl's voice in the background. Their laughter temporarily took her mind off of her very serious request.
Melody waited until Wanda came to the phone. "Hello?" she asked.
"Hey, sweetie," Wanda's warm, candy-coated voice rang in Melody's ears.
"Harmony said Malcolm Landgraab was there. Was he?" Melody's voice turned deadly serious.
"He came with some big box he said was donated toys."
Melody shook her head. "Knowing Malcolm, it was probably a bomb." She took a deep breath. "Mom, I'm serious. You've got to get a restraining order against him. You and Harmony are in grave danger."
Wanda let out a resigned sigh. "Florence said that, but --"
"You didn't believe her."
"No, it's not that, it's just that --"
"You didn't believe Malcolm could stoop that low."
"Well -- no, I don't think."
"C'mon, mom, we're talking about Malcolm Landgraab here. Of course he'll stoop that low. It's me he's after, not you. He thinks he can get to me by harming you. Mom, listen to me. I want you to go to the police and tell them you're Stephen Tinker's widow and you and your young daughter are being threatened. They'll listen. You might want to lay low awhile, too."

The next day Melody, carrying algebra and calculus books and a basketball, went over to Lam Plaza Dormitory to see Chaz Whippler. Unlike most days, Chaz was eager to see her. He greeted her with a big wide grin. "Guess what?" he boasted. "Thanks to you, I got an A on my remedial math test."
"Wow, that's great!"
As Chaz led her into the dormitory, and then the dorm cafeteria where they usually met, Melody put down her books and took her seat opposite him.
A thought crossed Chaz's mind, and it had nothing to do with applied mathematics. Instead, he'd thought a lot about his math tutor herself. To him, something was amiss. And he didn't dare wait.
"Melody," Chaz uncharacteristically stammered, preparing himself for a thunderous response, "are you a lesbian?"
Frowning in disbelief, Melody asked, "What? What do you mean?"
"It -- it's just something I've been wondering about for awhile now."
"Chaz," Melody managed to chuckle through her shock, "I don't understand. What do you mean 'if I'm a lesbian?' Why are you asking me this?"
"I don't know, it's just -- I've never seen you out around campus, you never --"
"Don't be silly, Chaz. I'm just real busy. My studies are very important to me."
"I know, gotta keep up that perfect 4.0," teased Chaz. Then he suddenly became serious again. "That's just it, you're not like other girls."
"In what way?" asked Melody. "I get up, brush my teeth, do my hair -- I'm exactly like everyone else."
Chaz shook his head. "No, you don't get it. That's not what I mean. You don't wear makeup, you don't wear perfume, you like sports and science and fooling around with mechanical stuff--"
Melody shook her head. "C'mon, Chaz. Just because I like those things doesn't mean I'm a lesbian."
"Your hands are as bad as my dad's, girl," Chaz teased again, examining Melody's cuts and calluses. "Is that from your tinkering -- pardon the pun?"
"I paint too," Melody revealed. "Haven't touched the canvas in awhile though, been so busy with my studies."
"Heck, you're just a regular old renaissance girl." Melody was somewhat taken aback. "Hey, I wasn't slumbering in my literature classes, you know."
Melody needled him gently. "Very good, Charles Whippler."
Chaz then thought of something else. He leaned over and closed Melody's textbook. "It's time to initiate you into some nightlife."
"What do you mean?"
"You and I are going to Romara Coffee House." He took Melody's hand, dragging her like a rag doll. "I haven't got much money, but I'm sure I can afford to buy you a coffee. Their specials are outstanding, especially the cinnamon flavored coffee with a danish pastry."
When they arrived at the coffee house, there was a fairly healthy crowd in line to sample the delicacies. Melody spied a cool, well-dressed flaxen blond girl with a newly roller-set bob, accompanied by an equally well-dressed, bespectacled blond gentleman. She recognized the girl but not the guy.
"Hey, who's the chick Phin's with?" Chaz asked.
"Phin?"
"Phineaus Furley. He lives in my dorm."
Melody nodded. "Oh. The girl, she's Tracy Glick, she went to my high school."
"They seem to be getting very cozy. I didn't even know he had a girlfriend."
Chaz and Melody continued to sit opposite each other in companionable silence. Their personalities were opposite in a lot of ways. Chaz was a slob, Melody a neat freak. Chaz was extraverted, Melody was introverted. Chaz was playful, Melody was serious. Chaz was paunchy, Melody was thin and trim. Still, though, he felt a comfort with her that he didn't really feel with anyone else.
And that's why he worried about her. He was concerned she was becoming 'all work and no play.' What he failed to understand was, her work WAS her play. She genuinely enjoyed her long hours at the laboratory and the observatory. She got her fun from performing experiments and studying the stars. With all the commotion at Aldrich over the cowplant, life at his dorm had gone on as usual.
"Hey, when did you figure out you wanted to be a scientist?" Chaz asked in an attempt to make conversation.
This question elicited a grin out of Melody and Chaz could see her eyes light up. "When I was about fourteen," she told him, careful not to mention her secret. "All of a sudden it became crystal clear what I wanted to do with my life."
"See, that's what I mean. Most girls, when they're fourteen, don't talk about wanting to be scientists."
Melody scoffed. "How do you know about most girls, Chaz?"
"Hey, I had sisters. Three of them to be exact. I know a lot about women."
"Really?" Melody raised an eyebrow and folded her arms.
"You know, Melody, you're not the total space cadet everyone thinks you are."
"Space cadet?" Melody laughed. "Now where would you get an idea like that?"
"I just wish -- I just wish you'd open yourself up a little more. Let people get to know the real you. Not the one that's hiding behind books. Like the one you show me."
"What do you mean?"
"Let's face it, Melody. I loosen you up in a way that no one else does."
"How so? How do you know that? You don't know how I am."
"C'mon, Melody. You're smart, attractive, witty -- there's really no reason why you should hide yourself behind your studies. There's a warm, playful person in there just waiting to come out."
Melody rubbed her hand along her arm, a somewhat familiar habit of hers, especially when she was in deep pensive thought.
"Hmm, I... don't ... know," she said slowly, nervously scanning the crowded coffee house.
The last thing she wanted to do, was to make an utter fool of herself. Especially in front of Tracy. "What about a game of darts?" Chaz offered, grasping at straws, "that's not too difficult is it?"
Melody pursed her lips in deep thought. "Mmm... I guess not."
Chaz took her hand, helping her up from her seat, and led her to the dart board, where a couple of other students had congregated. Watching them intently, Melody studied the angles they were throwing and tried to silently predict who would hit the center of the dartboard and who would miss badly. She couldn't help herself.
Then the other two students left, leaving Melody and Chaz at the dart board. "You first," Chaz said, ushering her to it.
"You'll regret it," laughed Melody. "I swear, you'll regret it." With the three darts she was given, she managed to hit the bullseye twice and just missed it fractionally, when the third dart veered slightly to the left.
Chaz was amazed. "How did you do that?"
Melody grinned. "Easy. You have to throw the dart at a ninety degree angle toward the center of the dart board. If it's not precisely at that ninety degree angle, it'll veer off course."
"Do you always think in angles and shapes?"
"Maybe. Depends on what I'm doing." Then she took the darts off the board and handed them to Chaz. "Your turn."
She watched as Chaz flailed wildly, his darts ending up all over the board and even on the adjacent wall.
After Chaz handed Melody the darts, she again tossed two darts in the red bullseye marker. But her third miss, this time, was high instead of left.
They went back to the table. Suddenly Melody got hungry, so Chaz stood in the long line and ordered her a coffee and a danish pastry.
"A danish pastry?" asked Melody. "I swear, those are murder on my diet. They are loaded with calories and sugar and saturated fat --"
"Goodness, do you eat anything that doesn't grow in the ground?" Chaz wondered.
"Not really," laughed Melody. "I've been a vegetarian since I was seven. Gave my parents no end of grief."
I bet, Chaz said to himself. "Can't you just this once, forget about your stinkin' diet?"
Melody shook her head and let out a deep sigh. "Oh, all right. But I'm going to have to work twice as hard to burn this off."
"You've got plenty of room for a few more danish pastries in there." In response, Melody playfully threw a piece right at Chaz's nose.