I said. Peter's gentle Danish accent made him easy to recognize among my other cluster mates. "So" Peter said. "How's this quarter shaping up for you?"
"Okay I guess," I told him.
"Yust guessing?" he asked.
"Well, things are kind of confusing right now."
"You mean like finding your way around, things like that?"
"More like all the people I'm meeting" I told him.
"Yah," Peter said. "Lots of different people around. Summer term seems to be like that."
"I imagine so." I said, this being my first summer in the dorms.
After a while cooking odors wafting from the kitchen far below overwhelmed us.
"Vell," Peter said. "Ve better go down. Get in line, yah?"
"Yah," i said, smiling.
I collected my tray, replete with spaghetti (chewy), and meatballs (soggy), green beans, dressed cucumber slices and a vanilla ice cream slice. When I had one of the food line helpers assist me in finding a place to sit, they usually tried to stick me by any other blind resident currently available. Lacking this, someone hearing impaired, wheelchair-bound or a member of any other disability group. Peter deposited us at a so-far empty table. I brought my tray in for what must've been a four-point landing.
"So" Peter said "you study engineering?"
"Yes," I agreed and not without a certain lift of the chin.
"I also," he said.
"Oh really," I smiled thinking I knew there must have been some reason I liked this guy! "Which department?"
"Chemical engineering," Peter told me. "And you?"
My answer wasn't so direct. "I'm doing a degree between astronautics and bioengineering," I told him. "I'm taking the core courses in the department of Aeronautics and Astronautics, in fact I hope to complete that degree, but I'm adding courses from physiology and biophysics, electronics, probably chemistry."
"That sounds fascinating," he said. "So would you design the monitors on astronauts so we may know the health of each person in space?"
"I'm more interested in what happens inside the spaceship," I said. "Supplying oxygen and water, doing temperature control, thing like that."
"I see," Peter said thoughtfully. "So you will use air filtration and heat transfer, those kinds of things to make your air--correct?"
"Well," I said "I am thinking more about using something like hydrogen peroxide to provide oxygen and lithium hydroxide to remove carbon-dioxide. I'd probably look at a liquid gas like ammonia to cool air and condense out water."
"Yes," Peter agreed. "Vat I wonder though, is why do you not study in the chemical engineering department, as it seems chemical processes are what you vould vant?"
"I need to know about the space environment too," I told him. "Also I need to know about spacecraft design, as well as how the human body functions in weightlessness. So I decided to start with astronautics and human physiology. For graduate work I might go in any one of several directions."
"Directions?" Peter said. "Oh yes, degree options?"
"Yes," I said.
We went on like this for a while, enjoying our rather tepid meal and sharing the comradery of members of the same college if not the same department. A hand descended upon my shoulder.
"Ellen," said Ellen.
"Hi," I said through half a mouthful.
"You still coming to our cluster Friday?"
"Sure," I said. "If I'm still invited."
"And have you been assigned a new roommate here?" she inquired.
Peter's laugh was loud, rich and spontaneous. "Yah," he chortled. "That vas a good v'un!"
"Well," Ellen responded "Is the current roommate coming with you Friday?"
"He said he doesn't think so," I told her, "but I'll ask him again."
"Do that."
"She is a good vun," Peter remarked.
"She's nice," I said, then not entirely knowing why, just curious I think, I asked "What does she look like?"
"Oh," Peter gave a lecherous little chuckle. "She is yust about right. Blonde hair and blue eyes and a body shaped vell. She has a big smile and looks to be happy. She could be even a Danish girl. Yes, how will you say it, you could do much vorse."
Peter had an evening lab class over in Benson Hall so I went back up to the cluster by myself and was unlocking the door, thinking about one of the cold beers that I hoped were still in the little shared fridge, when
"Dave!" Duncan's voice, from the room. "Your mom's here!" (Great.) It wasn't as if mom and I didn't get along at all but she could use up time.
"Good evening," my mother said from my desk chair. her cigarette preceding the greeting.
"Hi Mom."
"You settling in okay Honey?" she asked.
"Yeah," I told her, meaning it--sort of. "We're having a party Friday evening."
"Something the faculty is putting on?" Mom inquired as if expecting nothing else but an affirmative.
"Something the dorm's having," I lied.
"Whew." Mom exhaled. "Your roommate seems a nice, neat young man."
"Yeah," I said probably sounding vague. "We get along okay."
"Well that's wonderful. Here" Mom said. I heard rattling noises as she set a package next to me on my desk. "I made a batch of fudge," she said. "You remember how you used to like that when you were little?" Actually fudge had always seemed a bit too sweet when I was little, making my teeth hurt, but in the dorms any extra food was welcome.
"Great," I said. "Thanks a lot."
"Of course," she said. "Now don't forget to share some with Donald."
"Duncan?" I said.
"Oh yes," Mom corrected herself. "Duncan."
We chatted for a few more minutes then she remarked I put some of your things from home in your drawers there underneath your bunk. Couldn't you get someone to do a better job of folding than you seem to manage?"
Minded to protest the intrusion thus specified I refrained as Mom was prone to crying fits when challenged.
"Maybe," I said.
"I should think so," she replied as if this too was a foregone conclusion.
"Has your Father called lately?" she asked.
"No,"
