Macdonald Hall #7: The Joke's on us

Over the Hill

"Take my word for it, Bruno — you're not going to like him."

The speaker was Boots O'Neal. He and Bruno Walton, his longtime roommate and friend, were hanging movie posters on the walls of room 306 of Macdonald Hall.

Bruno spat out a thumbtack. "Of course I'll like him. You're just saying that because he's your brother.''

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," Bruno insisted. "I mean, look at me. I hate my sister, and everybody else says she's the sweetest kid on earth. It's human nature."

"You don't know Edward," Boots said flatly. "Sure I do!"

"You've only met him twice. And he was on his best behavior because it was vacation and my folks were around. The kid is crazy!"

"He's totally normal," Bruno countered. He took a step back to admire the new decor. "I think this one's a little crooked."

"It's fine," Boots retorted. "Dormitory 3 is crooked."

Bruno slipped into the shoe he'd been using as a hammer. He breathed deeply. "I envy your brother — young, new, first year at Macdonald Hall — he's got his whole life ahead of him."

Boots had to laugh. "And we're grandfathers, I suppose?"

"We have so much to teach him," Bruno raved on. "We can show him the ropes."

"Oh, sure," said Boots sarcastically. "He should really listen to us. We've been in trouble more than any two guys in the history of the Hall. We've washed more dishes, picked up more garbage, raked more leaves, and shoveled more snow. And we definitely hold the record for being chewed out by the Fish."

"The Fish," said Bruno, smiling at the mere thought of William R. Sturgeon, the Headmaster. "Your brother hasn't even met the Fish yet! Were we ever that young?"

"Yes, we were," growled Boots. "It was a better life."

Bruno looked annoyed. "Your problem, Melvin, is that you're a crab. As soon as new student orientation is over, Edward will drop by here, the three of us will get along great, and all your whining and complaining will be for nothing."

The words were barely out of his mouth when the door flew open, and there stood Edward O'Neal. He looked very much like a younger version of Boots — blond, blue-eyed, with a sleek athletic build.

"Eddie!" Bruno greeted the newcomer. "How's it going? Remember me? Bruno!" He bounded over, and dealt Boots's brother a hearty slap on the back.

Edward's blue eyes crossed, and rolled back in his head. Without a sound, he crumpled to the floor and lay there, unmoving.

Bruno stared, bug-eyed. "What did I do? What happened? I didn't hit him that hard! Call Nurse Hildegarde! Dial 9-1-1!..."

"Bruno — " Boots began patiently.

"We've got to keep him warm till the ambulance comes!" Bruno howled hysterically. "Quick, get a blanket!"

From the floor, Edward reached up, pulled the top sheet from Boots's bed, and handed it to Bruno.

"Thanks!" gasped Bruno, covering up the victim. He froze. "Hey, wait a minute — " Edward rose to his feet, dusting himself off.

Boots grimaced. "Come on, Edward. Why do you have to pull that weird stuff on the first day?"

Edward regarded the dumbfounded Bruno. "I'm waiting for the fun to start. The laugh-a- minute thrills. The topsy-turvy roller coaster of excitement."