A God in Ruins - Leon Uris [17]
Thornton tweaked the curiosity of the technical colleges that loomed large in the region. He established contact with MIT and played complex physics games. Whatever the Bulldog could do, it seemed to mop up the opposition of renowned institutions.
When Thornton Tomtree graduated Pawtucket High, they named a science medal after him. But it was a bad day for the odd couple. Thornton would leave for college, and Darnell had two more years to go at Pawtucket High.
For a time it was feared he would be drafted for Vietnam, but he was given an exemption as an only son.
On a late summer’s night in Newport, a thousand and one tourists strolled up the street looking at curios, and another thousand and one across the road strolled down the street looking at curios. Macho sailors, who manned the yachts of the rich, partied. Petitioners looked over Brown University, which had an open night for applicants. In the drawing rooms of the great mansions, string quartets played for charity at a thousand dollars a pop.
Thornton parked the junkyard pickup truck in Darnell’s driveway and waited on the porch swing for him to come home from a date.
“Darnell.”
“Yo, Thornton?”
“Yeah, how’d you make out?”
“Not too bad, I guess but those Jamaican girls have an agenda that has something to do with American passports. So, what’s going on?”
“You haven’t been in the shop most of the summer,” Thornton said.
“All right,” Darnell said, seating himself opposite on a rocker. “I mean, you’re going your own way. I hear my daddy talk about all the schools after you. MIT, Harvard, Carnegie Tech. How many scholarships have you been offered? They’ve got you mistaken for a quarterback.”
“Well, what’s that got to do with our friendship?”
“Everything,” Darnell said. “Man, you’re in solo land. A couple of years of college and we’ll need a translator to be able to speak to each other. Hey, man, you’re going to take off like a rocket. You and I just ran out of time and space. I mean, we can always be friends. Good friends, but you’re going north and south and I’m heading east and west.”
“I’ve made a decision,” Thornton said. “I’m not taking a scholarship. I’m not going to college. Why should I spend four years learning something I already know? My time would be better spent continuing to develop the Bulldog.”
“What the fuck you talking about?”
“I’m not going to college.”
“Your daddy know?”
“My daddy’s smart,” Thornton said. “He looked me over like he was bidding on ten tons of metal and asked me if I knew what I was doing. He trusts my judgment.”
“Because Henry didn’t need a college education to run a junkyard,” Darnell shot back.
“He needed more. He was born with stuff you don’t learn in school. Don’t you get it, Darnell? You’ll be at Pawtucket for two more years and I’ll be at the yard.”
“I’m not married to you, man.”
“No, but you’re the only person in the world I want helping me. The Bulldog is going to do some awesome things, once I figure it all out.”
Darnell stopped the rocking chair.
“I thought you would be really happy about this,” Thornton muttered.
“It seems to be about you and what you want,” Darnell answered. “What about me? So, let’s go a couple years down the road. I’ll be heading for college. Columbia Law School. They have encouraged me to come to them first for a basketball scholarship. Like man, we’re talking New York City.”
“I hate stupidity,” Thornton said in disgust. “I mean, I truly hate stupidity. Look at me. Four left feet. I can still catch the ball and pass the open man. How come you can’t smell shit in a cow barn?”
“Columbia is no barn. Get used to it.”
“So waste your life for a law degree and end up as the house darky for one of the insurance companies. Everyone’s looking for darkies, especially point guard darkies. You are the dream minority package, Darnell.”
“Why are you doing this, Thornton?”
“By the time you pass the bar, the Bulldog computer will be the standard of its