This is the second half of Losing More Than Strip Poker. It's recommended to read part 1. After losing the rigged poker game before a large crowd at a charity event, college student Russ Dawson was left naked and without a ride back to campus. On a dark, cold road, he fell in a trench and was injured, ending his season on the track team. Angry and betrayed, Russ dropped out of school and went home. But many issues remain unresolved. There is no sex in this story and the nudity comes in late. All characters are 18 years or older.
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The weather in Eugene was cold, but not so bad as Indiana. I sat on the back porch bundled in a heavy coat, grateful to be warm, gazing absently at the mountains. I wasn't reading as I usually would, and didn't have much to say. My mother came out with hot chocolate.
"You should come inside, dear," she suggested.
"It's not bad out here now. I'll be in soon," I replied.
She pulled up a deck chair close to mine. Our small house was nothing to brag about, but we owned it free and clear thanks to my father's insurance money.
"Son, I know that was a bad experience, but you shouldn't give up. You've never quit at anything. Not once in your entire life."
"It's not about quitting, Mom. There's nothing for me back there. I can't run for the track team, my grades were only fair, and I didn't make any friends. I'll apply for Oregon U. in September. They might need a sprinter. And if you remember, Coach Walters said I might try out for the Ducks' special team. I still know how to kick a football."
"So, you're just going to sit around for six months?" she asked.
"I can get my old job back once my feet are better."
Mom sighed, a little impatient with me. Fifty years old, her hair prematurely gray after so many hard years, her strong constitution showed where my good genes came from.
"You know I never liked you working at that place," she said. "The girls really appreciated how you protected them, but it was dangerous at times when the drunks got out of control."
"I usually talked them down," I replied. "And it was fun most of the time, though maybe I was a little too young when I started."
"Yes, seventeen is too young to be a bouncer at a strip club," she agreed. "If I'd known, I never would have permitted it. And the Johnsons wouldn't have, either, if you hadn't lied about your age."
"Dad was sick and we needed the money," I protested. "It was the only night job I could get and stay in school during the day."
"You came home with bruises."
"No more than I got playing football."
"Russ, you were too young, too skinny, and too naïve. Even Mr. Johnson said that when he found out."
"I was eighteen by then, and legal, and the job paid good. What was I supposed to do, Mom? See you lose the house?"
"Your phone keeps ringing. Several girls, and your roommate," she mentioned.
"There's nothing to say. It's the past now, and you know I don't like looking back."
"They are still your friends."
"No, they aren't. I doubt they ever were."
"Did you see this story? About what happened? The college newspaper is demanding an investigation," she said, showing me her phone. "They say many of the students involved may be expelled."
"It has nothing to do with me, I'm not a student there anymore."
"You're still enrolled until the paperwork goes through. Which I have asked Dean Carruthers to delay. Russ, please think about this. I've never known you to run from anything. The underweight kid on the football team whose grit everyone admired. Defending the girls from drunks at the club. And those other activities, when you danced--"
"I haven't forgotten. What do you want me to do?"
"Go back and sort this out. Dean Carruthers said she'd arrange airfare, and a room at the school separate from the dorm. Please, don't let this take you down. I am so proud of you. I always have been." I needed to think on that, and hated the idea of disappointing her.
"Then I'll do it for you," I reluctantly agreed.
I departed late the next evening. Ten days after falling into the ditch, I could get around without the crutches if I needed to, just limping. I really didn't need the annoying sling if I didn't work the left arm too hard. I packed light with a duffel bag, not able to carry much. Mom gave me a rushed kiss at the airport, needing to get to work at St. Hope Hospital where she was a trauma care nurse.
With little to do on the long red-eye flight, I read the news stories coming out of Midville Valley College. In the days since I'd left, the incident had gotten blown all out of proportion. Demands to shut down the school. Wealthy parents not wanting their children tainted by association. Talk about saving money by closing the athletic department. It was really none of my business, though I felt bad for the dean. She was a nice lady and always supportive.
A bus brought me to the campus before 8 o'clock as most of the students were having breakfast. I arrived unannounced, though many on the bus recognized me even with my clothes on. The strip poker game had received a lot of attention on the internet where there were hundreds of photos of me, in the barn, naked for four hours after being knocked out of the game. A game that had been rigged for me to lose. A game my roommate and best friends had lured me into and laughed about when I lost. At least I had an athlete's body. Nothing to be ashamed of. As angry as I still was, it appeared the event, and the incident afterward, had raised $80,000 for child cancer research, which gave me a great deal of satisfaction. I had lost a little brother to leukemia.
I went straight towards the dean's office, only using the crutches intermittently. I bumped into Cindy and Mary Marvel on the way, both players in the infamous poker game.
"Russ, we're so glad to see you back. We're really sorry about what happened," Mary Marvel said. It looked like she wanted to hug me but held back.
"I'm sorry, too. About everything," Cindy added.
"You ladies have nothing to be sorry for," I replied. "I didn't leave school because of the poker game. I left because I won't be running track, which is why I applied here. Can I say something without it sounding strange?"
"Yes, please," Cindy urged. She was so pretty, with deep blue eyes and long blonde hair. I'd had a brief crush on her until admitting she was out of my league.
"When you won that last hand and put me out of the game, I loved the way you looked so happy. So triumphant. Jumping up and waving my boxer shorts in victory. Don't let what happened later ruin that. It was a wonderful moment for you."
"Gosh, Russ, I--" she tried to respond. But suddenly tears filled her eyes and she ran off.
"Cindy is more sensitive than she pretends," Mary Marvel said, putting an arm under my right elbow for support. "How bad are your feet?"
I doubted Mary Marvel was her real name. She was stocky yet quite attractive, with flowing brown hair and intelligent brown eyes. Mary looked down, seeing I was wearing oversize moccasins because of the bandages. I staggered like a mummy.
"I can walk short distances without the crutches. Another two weeks and I won't need them at all, but I'll still be hobbling for a while."
"You know everyone is sick about this, don't you? The Shake-Up is being cancelled permanently."
"They shouldn't do that. 90% of it was a lot of fun, and the money goes to a good cause."
"Fun? Even for you?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.
"It's not the event I have a problem with, it's some of the people. But that doesn't include you, or Cindy, or anyone else who was playing. Don't feel bad about something that wasn't your fault."
"You're a great guy, Russ. You know, the reason they picked you to play wasn't to get back at you or anything. The players are selected because they're popular. I know this sounds weird, but it's considered an honor."
"Well, if it had turned out differently, and I was still on the track team, maybe I could see it that way. But I can't today. Too much has happened."
"I understand. How long will you be here?"
"A day or two. I need to talk with Mrs. Carruthers and straighten a few things out."
Mary Marvel gave my arm a squeeze and headed off to class. I entered the administration building.
The Dean had a nice office overlooking the quad. She jumped up from her busy desk, rushing to hug me. She was in her fifties, thin, with graying hair and a professor's demeanor.
"Thank you for coming, Russ. Thank you so much. We are so sorry--"
"Mrs. Carruthers, I don't wish to be rude, but I really don't need to hear more of that. It won't change anything. Let's fix this problem so I can go home."
She looked shocked by my outburst. And a little hurt.
"I know this has been hard," she said, quickly regrouping. "This scandal, as some are calling it, has hurt our school's reputation. It could damage enrollment. Are you willing to help us, or is there too much anger?"
"As my mother likes to say, honesty usually works best. Can your secretary take a statement?" I requested, making her nervous again.
"Of course, Mr. Dawson," she formally replied.
She left the office. I saw a coffee pot and poured myself a cup, taking a seat looking out at the campus. I had hoped to be happy at a small college rather than a large impersonal institution, and was sad it hadn't turned out that way. I wondered if I should bother going back to school at all and get a job instead. Mrs. Carruthers returned with Myron, her personal secretary.
"Will this be okay?" he asked in a deep voice, showing me a recording device.
"Yes, sir," I answered.
Everyone settled in. Mrs. Carruthers began to say something, but I cut her off.
"Dear Dean Carruthers, this statement by me is given freely for your official use in whatever capacity you need. At the recent Shake-Up event, which I attended as a representative of my dorm, traditions of previous generations were played out. I have no issue with these traditions and hope they continue."
I paused to sip my coffee, seeing surprised expressions.
"I personally consider the event a great success, for it raised a great deal of money for child cancer research, which is a very important and worthy cause. I understand the college has guaranteed to match those donations."
I looked for the dean's reaction, for no such financial commitment had been made. I had just put the college on the hook for $80,000. She smiled, knowing I had her over a barrel, and nodded.
"At the end of the event, rather than remain in the facility and get a ride home from the cleaning crew in the morning, I made the stubborn decision to walk back to the campus. It's possible the excessive consumption of alcohol led me to make such a poor decision, for which I do not hold Midville Valley College responsible. It is a fine school, with an excellent faculty, and I wish them well."
Mrs. Carruthers appeared to notice that I said excellent faculty without mentioning the students, seeing the lingering resentment in my eyes. But I kept the anger out of my voice. I motioned for Myron to turn off the recorder.
"Will that suffice?" I asked.
