Read Pacific Avenue for Free Online Page A

air. “Yes, Richard?”
    He stood, holding up a book for the class to see.
“Here’s a picture of Konrad Lorenz and his geese,” he said. “He hatched these
goslings in an incubator, and the first thing they saw was him. They thought
they were junior Konrad Lorenzes. They followed him everywhere.”
    Suddenly the idea was interesting. How could a goose
think it was a man? How did he ever get rid of them?
    Here’s Konrad Lorenz, trying to give the geese the
slip so he can get together with his girlfriend. Here’s Richard, a
jack-in-the-box with a pile of helpful books, one for every subject the teacher
talks about. Boooiiiinnnng! “Funny you should mention the psychodynamics of
Martians, I happen to have a book here.”
    My fantasies unreeled like old black-and-white
slapstick movies. I stifled a laugh. Richard caught my eye and smiled. It
wasn’t quite a real smile, but it was better than one of those smiles you have
to do. Maybe he could see the movie too.
    After class, I hurried down the hall until I caught up
with him.
    “Hi, I’m Kathy,” I said. “That was neat, what you said
in class. How did you know all that stuff about the geese?”
    He shrugged. “It’s interesting, how we learn what we
are. Normally, the first thing goslings see is their mother. That first look
tells them they’re geese. Maybe people do something similar—probably over a
longer period of time. But when a baby learns what he is, he also learns what
he’s not —and then, maybe all his life,
he’d see it as a threat.”
    “You make it a lot more interesting than Miss Sharpe
does.”
    “I’m probably more interested in the subject than Miss
Sharpe is.”
    We fell into step, headed for the Student Union. The
sidewalks were thronged—almost everyone was either going to the Union or
leaving it. A few people smiled at us, and some frowned. Everyone seemed to
feel entitled to a political opinion about a black guy and a white girl walking
together. But I wasn’t political—I was just interested in Richard.
    He waved to a few people as we walked through the Union,
but when we reached the cafeteria, no one signaled us to join them. We bought
coffee and took it to a small table of our own, abandoned near the edge of a
loud group. There weren’t any chairs. I stood by the table to claim it while
Richard scrounged a couple of chairs.
    “So, how did you know Miss Sharpe would talk about
imprinting?” I asked, as he dragged the second one back.
    “I had a similar course in high school. The subject
came up then.”
    We both sat down. “You had Psych in high school ? Where did you go to school?”
    “All over. I’m an army brat. My father’s family is from
here, but he joined the military to get off the farm, then he stayed in. I grew
up on army posts—Texas, Missouri, Virginia, and Oklahoma. Even Germany for a
while. Some of them had good schools.” He gave me a quick look, then a longer
one.
    “Your father’s family had a farm near here?” I asked.
    “Right in town.” He laughed. An embarrassed laugh,
awkward. “My grandfather is one of the local characters. He still farms his
land, right on the edge of that business park near the airport. Behind a pair
of mules.”
    “Oh, him. He’s your
grandfather?” I’d seen the old man for years, every time I went to the airport.
I always wondered what he was thinking about, walking behind those mules, ignoring
the traffic a few yards away. “I think he’s kind of cool. People must have
offered him a fortune for his land.”
    “They have. He’s stubborn. Like his son. And his grandson.”
    I wondered what it would be like to live on army bases.
I didn’t think I’d like it. On the other hand, you’d live in different towns,
even in foreign countries, instead of in the same house year after year. Would
you get to start all over again every time you moved? Be someone different, try
something new?
    “What’s it like, living on an army base?” I asked.
    He grimaced. “You