THE PALE LIGHT OF SUNSET: SCATTERSHOTS AND HALLUCINATIONS IN AN IMAGINED LIFE

Final Exam - 1959

106 1959 Final Exam The light comes brilliantly, but softly, as light comes through a scattering of muted crystals. I think I can see the fractured light, even though my eyes are closed. The light cuts through the edges of my vision and lances its way into my brain. I know I am lying on a bench at the side of the grassy quadrangle in front of the library. I can feel the bench beneath me. I run my hands along the front of the bench, feeling the smooth, worn wood. I lay down on the bench an hour or so ago. I needed a nap. I came out of the last exam of the semester, of the year, and the bench was there. Many times, I have seen people napping on these benches. No one ever seems to bother the nappers. My eyelids seem glued shut. I rub at them with my hands, then sit up, blinking. My book bag is on the bench beside me; I have been using it as a pillow. I think I should be jittery, but I am not. My head rings with soft pain but my hands do not shake. The reds must have worn off. The Pale Light of Sunset 107 The reds, bless their little rounded bodies. They may have saved me again. I had been to only a handful of the philosophy classes, preferring to just read the books and fake the quizzes. Then I got bored with the books and did not read at all. I am failing the course. I don’t give a shit. We call him Jimmy Bingo and he has the reds. Take a fistful of these, Bingo says, and you can steam through the night, catch up on all that philosophy crap. Pass the final, he says, and you pass the course. What the hell, I thought, it’s worth a try. The reds cost me all my beer money. I start popping them at mid-day. I keep at it though the night. I take the last red at three in the morning. Philosophy never seemed so exciting . I forget my watch and run for the campus, barely making it on time. I do not remember the exam at all. I do remember odd looks from some of the other students, but, what the hell, it’s a philosophy class. It’s full of goddamn odd students. The reds start wearing off. I manage to get through the exam and stagger out of the building around noon. The last exam. I am through with this shit for another year. Maybe I’m through with this shit forever. I start across campus. The reds are fleeing the country. My plane is spinning out of the air, crashing, my head full of sand and my feet not attached to my legs. I see the bench near the library. I am hungry, really hungry. But I can hardly walk. I need a nap. I lie down on the bench. It is getting late, the sun far down behind the buildings and sinking fast. I have slept longer than I meant to, but it does not matter. No one is looking for me; no one knows where I am; I have nothing to do. I need a piss. Badly. I stand up and stretch, looking carefully around the quadrangle, trying to appear casual. There is no one around. I slip Lee Maynard 108 behind the bench, reach over the back and mess with my book bag. Actually, I have unzipped my fly and I am pissing on the ground behind the bench. When I am finished I sneak another look around again to make sure I have not been seen. Still, there is no one in sight. Not anywhere. I wonder about that. There should be someone, some exam-battered student heading for the student union building, some dry slug or two heading downtown for a beer. Somebody. Going somewhere. But there is no one. It does not register with me until I realize the fading light is not fading. The light is growing stronger. The sun is not setting, it is rising. There is no one on campus because it is just barely first light. I have slept on the bench all night. I sit back down and stare at the growing light. What the hell am I doing here? I do not even...