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Chapter 90: Stomping Grounds

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It was about a five hour drive to Caronport from Brandon, but it seemed to go by incredibly fast.  Like I was moving towards a magnet pulling me along.  Few things I was ever sure of in life, but this was one of them.

In mid August of 1993, Briercrest College was closed down for the summer.  The rabble of student life was nowhere to be seen and in its place were the occasional staff enjoying the calm before the storm.  To be honest, it felt a little weird.

Only months prior this was home.  Only months prior I was walking these dirt roads holding Corinne’s hand.  Only months prior I was hauling mattresses because I got her back late.  Three times.

Of course I had to stop on my way west to see the old place.  This was ground zero, where it all happened.  I had made allowance for spending an hour or two just to enjoy the memories.  To try and recapture a piece of the great time I had here.

“John?”

I turn to see Mr. Black, one of my professors and assistant deans of my old dorm.  A kind, familiar face was like refreshing water.  We shake hands and spark up a conversation.

“Are you returning this year?” he asks.

“Actually, just passing through.  Heading west to visit a friend of mine.”

“A friend, you say?  Like that young lady by chance?  What was her name again?”

“She, ah, her…Corinne.”

“Oh yes!  Things going well then?”  There’s more than a hint of a smile.  I imagine teachers never get tired of this drama.

“Yeah, great!  Writing a lot and my job ended so I’m going to visit her and the family.  Sort of a milestone moment when you think about it.”

“Well, good luck to the both of you.  Just don’t do anything that might get you more work discipline.”  I swear, he was doing all he could not to break down laughing.

“Ha…yeah, uh…right!”  Man, you make one little mistake three times in a row and people think you can’t learn.

We again shook hands and he likely went off to laugh himself silly in a broom closet.  For me, I took about an hour to wander.  It felt like going back to a home you grew up in, but someone else’s stuff was there.

Saskatoon was about 3 hours north, so it was best to get moving.  I still had a lot of road to cover.

NEXT – Chapter 91: Angel for Hire

John Paul Parrot ( aka. The Dysfunctional Parrot ) is a disgruntled Systems Analyst who wanders the Canadian wastelands saving small villages with the power of Kung Fu.  His chair is also a little too close to the twenty year old microwave.  As you can well imagine, this has had certain side effects.

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