The Flamekeepers of Delta Psi Theta - 1. Rush

It was sweltering. That’s the best way to describe it. The rainstorm had broken and the sun was making the parking lot steam. I was sitting under a ceiling fan thanking every deity for the air conditioning in the laundromat.

Wednesday the campus opened up for move in and that meant the laundromat opened. Today was Friday, so I was using the discounted washers and dryers on campus to get my clothes clean on my first day off in a bit. You could see all the freshmen, many for the first time, doing their first loads of laundry. It’s always funny watching kids away from their parents for the first time. At least it is entertaining for an old dog like me.

I mean I’m not THAT old but starting college at 29 made for obvious juxtapositions. Take this group of young guys, maybe 19, all with the faces and bodies of models standing in the last row of dryers on the other side. Even the hairiest one looked like he could make his money selling underwear. They all made active efforts not to look at me. I get it, no one wanted to look at the old disabled veteran.

Oh yeah I’m a vet too. Devil Dog through and through. Just made sergeant before a bad patrol. NCOs don’t do bitch work like patrols but post was real short on hands, I was green as an NCO, and I still don’t mind missing sleep. Things got real real bad and my boys got dead.

How I kept my arm I’ll never know, but what is left is not pretty to look at. No real muscle tissue to speak of with white spiderwebs of scars all the way down, but I still got most of my hand. I like to joke my brothers took my pinky cuz I stuck it out when I drank pretending to be above my station. In a way it’s how I remember them…

Anyway, it was too hot to cover up. I wasn’t going to wear long sleeves just because it made other people uncomfortable to see what the war did to me. Part of me got a perverse satisfaction, make them look at it. Make them see the cost of their desire for overseas endeavors, the cost of the violence they advocate. If not for you and your shitty ideas they would all…

I was broken from my self serving rage by another young kid not knowing how to use the washer. His flustered face showing exactly how much he didn’t know when it came to this new adventure. Kid probably had a good childhood. A loving mom. Even if his family didn’t come from money this was a kid who was taken care of by his parents. I’ll admit I was a little jealous. I looked up from the magazine that wasn’t reading and asked “need a hand there?”

He looked at me with relief. No games, no ulterior motives, no angle. Just relief. “Please…”

I got up and looked at my dryer timer, still had 30 minutes before my clothes were done. I walked over to him and said “so where you lost on this”

“I don’t even know where to start” he said

“Ok well you start by putting your clothes in the machine…”

He glared a bit at me before chuckling “that part I got… but what else do I need”

“Well you are going to need some detergent, do you have any?”

He shook his head no.

“Your clothes are gonna just sit in water without it. How many quarters you got?”

“Quarters?”

“Yeah quarters. These machines run on change, there’s a machine over there to break a single or a 5. You can also use the cash on your meal card if you have any. I’d recommend getting a packet of detergent from the vending machine next to the change machine, dumping it in and starting the machine on normal once you got all your quarters.”

He looked at me with relief

“That’s all there is?”

“Yup, then once it’s done you move it all to the smallest dryer that will fit it all and start it with the quarters. Be careful, the dryers get more expensive the bigger you go. Either way get comfy, its gonna be a bit”

“Thank you so much! My name is Track.” He said as he put out his hand for me to shake it. I grabbed his hand and said “Novotny”.

He smiled and said “let me get this stuff started, thanks for your help Novo”.

I could feel the wave building inside me. So long since I was called that. The belonging, the love, the rage. Not now… not here. I swallowed down the emotions and just said “no problem” and went back to my seat and my excuse to disassociate.

Those cute guys in the corner weren’t avoiding me anymore. They spoke in more hushed tones and fiddled with their rings as they spoke. Weird.

I’ve seen it before though. Some rich boys are like that. I used to see it when the brass or some self serving politician would bring their families out. Especially to the hospitals when I got back. The reality of it all making those kids uncomfortable. I was right to go sleeveless… besides suns out guns out. I might only have 1.2 guns now, but I got no shame showing em off.

Track sat down next to me and picked up a magazine from the table. You could tell he wanted to talk to me but I just kept staring at the page. I could feel him looking at me. Quick glances. His leg started to bounce.

It had been a good 5 minutes before he couldn’t take it anymore. He broke the silence and said “so no disrespect, but why is a man like you at a college laundromat?”

I put down the magazine I wasn’t reading and looked at him “What you think I can’t be a student here? Let’s see if you can connect the dots…”

“Ahh you must be a GI biller”

“Right”

“And my guess is you aren’t in a dorm because you don’t have your id on a lanyard for week one”

“Right again”

“And based on your suitcases, I’d guess you haven’t gotten a permanent place yet” he pointed at my empty suitcases next to his empty basket.

“3 for 3”

“But why wouldn’t you be in a dorm… that doesn’t make any sense, there are plenty of GI billers in the dorms”

“Not GI billers who work full time”

“Ahh… so what your place off campus doesn’t have laundry”

“Something like that”.

I just met this kid. There’s no way he would understand. For all my bravado in showing off my scars and wanting to fight the world for sending me overseas I had no bravado in this one. I had to break my attention from the kid or I’d lose my ability to keep the waves down.

The group of studs in the corner looked like they were finishing up whatever they were doing. It definitely wasn’t laundry whatever it was and it looked like they had come to some kinda agreement on something. Lots of nodding and shoulder slaps. They looked like they were a tribe apart from the crowd of people folding their clothes and finishing up. You could almost see the love, the power of having each others back, the strength of their bond, reminded me of my old unit…

“You ok?”

Apparently track had been talking the whole time and I had just missed it.

“Yeah sorry, sometimes I just fade out. Especially if yer sitting on the side of my bad arm. That ear mostly just rings now”

Track looked at me for a minute, like he was scanning me. As the studs walked by us on their way out he broke his stare so we could nod to acknowledge them. Ahh the bro nod, something universal across all cultures. Something so small to give even strangers the small gift of community, of camaraderie. Right about then my dryer buzzed and I jumped.

Suddenly something had me on edge… I don’t know if it was how those guys were looking at me, Track’s prying questions, or the waves I was having to swallow but I was slipping into battle mode. I started to fold my clothes and track followed me. He sat on a dryer next to me and reached into my pile of clothes to fold. He grabbed a shirt and folded it incorrectly for me but I was still grateful for the help.

“I don’t mean to pry but I’m guessing you work at the big plant next to the Air Force base don’t you?”

“And what makes you say that?”

“You say you work full time and my dads clothes were covered in the same dust that won’t come out in the wash”

“Yeah I do, and yeah that dust is rough.”

It’s really all the tool oil in the air but I wasn’t going to tell him that. He picked up another shirt and stared at it. He looked like he was trying to find the words or the courage to ask what was on his mind. Something smoldering that if he gave air would burst into flames. I picked my jockstraps and started folding them and Track seemed to lose his train of thought.

“Do you wear those?” He asked, the words just falling out of his mouth.

“Almost every day”

“For how long?”

“Since before you were walkin’ kid”

He glared at me and threw the poorly folded shirt in his hands at me. See, no reason to be in battle mode. Kids seeing a big brother and memories of dad, getting happy and asking questions… no need to stress…

The laundromat was pretty much empty. People had either left their machines to take advantage of the break in the weather or finished up. The last person besides track and I walked out as I picked up a pair of socks.

In the back corner of the laundromat another dryer buzzed then all the lights went out. Those socks can wait. Despite the entire front of the store being glass to the sunny outside it was almost pitch black inside. This was not how light was supposed to work. But I’ve seen this before…

“Track, get behind me”

He jumped off the dryer and stood behind me with his fists at the ready. I could see my moms house torn apart, blood covering the walls. The empty shotgun looking like it was cut in pieces…

“Man what’s going on”

“I don’t know, but if something goes sideways you stay behind me ok”

I didn’t know this kid from Adam 30 minutes ago, but nothing was going to hurt him while I was here. Not if I could help it.

“What makes you both so special I wonder” a strange voice said out of the darkness. The shadow getting closer.

“The fuck are you? Turn the lights back on and fuck off” I said with as much marine bravado as I could summon.

“Interesting, he’s willing to fight to protect this unknown. I wonder broken one, is it salvation or self destruction you seek?”

I figured I was the broken one he was referring to.

“At this point I’ll take either.”

“Interesting. Your surrender will be all the sweeter…”

Suddenly the lights came back on.

“What in the ever loving fuck was that!?” Track screamed at me.

“I have no idea” I lied to him. I knew exactly what that was.

Sleep did not come easy that night.

My front console was covered with a towel to block out the light as usual, but the darkness made me uneasy. More uneasy than usual. The air conditioning wasn’t keeping up but I didn’t dare drop the temp. I didn’t want to risk the engine starting. With the car plugged in the AC could run but the last thing I needed was the engine running while security drove by.

Every hour I would wake up in a panic, only to look outside and see the lights still on. These living shadows. They had been stalking me as long as I could remember. Thankfully I hadn’t seen them since that night at the checkpoint. The night all the radios went buggy and the lights went out. The night I watched shadows kill my entire unit. The night LT paid back my trust. At least that’s what I think happened. God it’s all so wrong. I see the the fight from too many perspectives. No way I was able to be in all of them unless the firefight went on way longer than the reports say. It’s all so disjointed. Who died first? Who died last? Would it even change anything to know.

I peeked back outside the window. The streetlights were still on.

There was no use in this. No answers to be found in the backseat. No grand revelations to be found while barely surviving. No great power to be had from yet another homeless disabled veteran. I smashed my head against the headrest again and forced myself to sleep.

I woke up again at 3am in a panic. I quickly looked out the window and saw the streetlights were still on. Just a dream. That house burned to the ground. It’s not real.

Just think of the green grass and hills with trees. My breathing slowed and heart rate dropped. I could almost feel myself fall back into unconsciousness.

When I woke up almost an hour later, I got out, unplugged my car, and drove into work. At least I could burn off some of this tension in the gym and get a hot shower to work out the kinks in my back. I had two hours before the start of my shift. Plenty of time.

After lunch I was in the SCIF. All of my stuff was outside, no keys, no wallet, no phone. I was working on one last drawing for the project I was on when the 3 beeps for the door access sounded. I looked up and over at the door only for it to not open. Weird.

When I looked back at my desk there was an envelope in black. The front said nothing. The back, embossed in red wax were 3 greek letters: Delta Psi Theta. Holy fuck.

Everyone knew who DPT was. The elite of the elite joined this frat, and their connections helped you get far and away ahead of anyone else. Their confirmed member list is a who’s who among the rich and powerful. I was neither. So why the fuck did I have a black envelope in front of me, and how the fuck did it get into a SCIF?

I exhaled deeply, said “fuck it”, and cracked the seal.

Inside was a tiny slip of paper. It simply said “be at your desk in 30 minutes”. No fucking way in hell this note got in here. I looked back at the desk and at the note. Then the door. Then back at the desk. The note was gone. I stood up and looked around. There’s no way. No way in hell. I couldn’t breathe.

Calm down. You haven’t had one of these episodes in years. You are ok. Bright green grass and hills with trees. Just think of the hills.

I could feel my heart rate slow down as I regained control of my breathing. I could hear his voice “that’s it bro, you got this. Yer here with us”…

I looked back at my computer. The changes I was making to the drawing were done. I just had to save them. I did a quick review and all of my red lines were right. Impossible. I thought I was only 3/4 of the way through. I saved my drawings, logged out, and got my stuff as I left the SCIF.

I don’t know why but I rushed back to my shop. It was 26 minutes since I first opened the letter when I sat down at my desk. I looked through all my books and manuals and stacks of paperwork. No letter. I leaned back in my chair and closes my eyes for just a moment.

You’re losing it Novo. Keep it together. My pulse was pounding in my head so hard I could hear it over the high pitched whine of tinnitus.

When I looked back at my desk there was a black envelope on my keyboard. The front again had nothing, the back had the same red seal with the greek letters DPT.

“No fucking way” I exclaimed to myself. I felt the letter in my hands. This was real. I wasn’t losing it. I could almost feel a cheer rising in myself as I broke the seal.

The letter read:

“Novo,

In the spirit of brotherhood and camaraderie we extend this offer to you: A night of drinks, introductions, and bids. Please wear clothes you do not care if are destroyed. Semi-formal preferred (slacks and a button up shirt, no ties). Do not show up earlier than 7pm or later then 7:15pm.

We hope to see you here,

Keepers of the flame”

I read it 3 times before my computers message alert went off. My senior manager needed to speak to me immediately. I put the letter in my backpack and moved quickly, almost running, to my senior managers office. I must have covered the entire plant in 10 minutes.

I walked into his office with my backpack on my shoulder. He just smiled at me.

“I understand you start college this semester”

“Yes sir”

“Novotny, no need to call me sir. I didn’t like it then, I sure as shit don’t like it now”

I chuckled. When he was my LT he wanted nothing more than to be one of the guys, but officers and enlisted have to maintain a wall of separation.

“I also know you got a rather life changing letter this afternoon”

I gulped “I did” this office was suddenly incredibly hot.

He opened a letter on his desk and read it to me.

“To Mr. Rozenchen,

A member of your staff has been offered a bid with the flame keepers of Delta Psi Theta. As you know, this requires them to be full time at our house for 1 week for initial training. As he currently has no place to live, his housing situation is not under any threat. However his employment would be threatened by this long of a break and with him having no PTO as of yet.

We ask that you allow him to take those weeks and explore this opportunity for himself.

Your Brotherhood,

The Keepers of the Flame”

He looked through me.

“I thought you were getting an apartment”

“The search is ongoing”

“And transition housing”

“Ran out a week ago”

“So you have been…”

“Sleeping with my car plugged up on campus with the AC going. The tint is dark enough it’s hard to tell I’m in there and most of the security doesn’t get out of their cars.”

“How have you been…”

“I show up at 4am and do the gym and shower and get dressed. Did laundry yesterday on campus.”

I could feel his disappointment. When I got out of the hospital he told me to call him if I had any issues transitioning to civilian life. He knew how hard it was without the years trying to patch me together. I didn’t call. A part of me felt like I had let him down.

He continued to stare at me and fidgeted with his ring for a second. He took a deep breath which broke my stare at the ring. I looked at his face and he looked directly into my eyes and said “You look sick Novo. You should go home for the rest of the week and rest up. Do not disappoint me.

“I won’t Sir”

He looked at me with the same stern officer face he always used when he was about to get me into or out of trouble.

“Issac…This is an amazing opportunity if you take it. I offer you one piece of advice: they will never ask you do something you aren’t capable of. Trust them.”

He looked me up and down with seriousness

“And go to the mall. Semi formal and you don’t match”

His use of my first name reminded me the seriousness of this. I hated my first name. Novotny is what I’d gone by since I joined the Marines. My first name felt clunky, like boots that were too big. Like an overloaded seabag with shit you don’t need. LT was one of the few that didn’t make me panic when he said it.

I also looked down at the jeans I was wearing, covered in dirt and oil from work. All of my clothes were like this. No matter how much you wash them, that oil soaked dirt just never really comes out, just like Track said. More importantly, it spreads to even clothes that didn’t get directly exposed. I knew my old LT was right, I didn’t have anything that was going to work.

“Now get the fuck out of my office and off the clock.”

“Yes s…” I caught myself.

He smiled and turned to his computer.

It was 3 pm. I had 4 hours to get some new clothes and fight traffic to get to the campus. It was going to be tight. But I could do it. I made it this far.

I was out of the plants parking lot and in the malls in record time. I’m surprised I didn’t get pulled over as fast as I was going.

“Ok. Focus. 3 things, slacks, shirt, shoes. Don’t get distracted”

I parked and ran past the bus loop into the first department store I could find with my letter in my pocket. I ran to the clearance section and scanned pair after pair until I physically ran into someone.

“Sorry there… Track?”

“Novo?” There’s that wave again.

I saw the letter in his hand. “You too?”

I just smiled and said, “Well let's get some clothes we don't need to care about!”

We both found decently fitting button up shirts on the clearance racks and slacks that were decently fitting. When track went to pay his card immediately declined. Before he could even start to break down I told the checkout person “go ahead and put his stuff on my card, but keep em in separate bags.” She smiled at me while I could feel daggers from Track.

He just stared at me. “Why?”

“Because when I was in your position a wise man once told me that when you can’t run you walk, when you can’t walk you crawl, and when you can’t crawl your brothers will carry you. Also it was less than 50 bucks.”

As we left the cashier Track started to head to the bus loop on the side of the mall.

“You need a ride bro”

“I can’t ask for more of you”

“Well that stuff I just bought is gonna be useless if we don’t make it there on time”

You could see him try and argue but couldn’t think of anything. I just grabbed the back of his neck and pushed him in the direction of my car. Again it became a run and Track ended up ahead of me but also lost as to where we were going. I had to whistle for him every time he made a wrong turn and by the time we got to my car I was a pace ahead of him.

We both stripped down once we were in the car, enjoying the AC and also getting our clothes ready to throw on. We used my pocket knife to cut all the tags off. Well I did, track mostly stared at my jockstrap and handed me things. I handed him his pants and slid my pants on over my jock as he watched intently. I winked at him and threw his shirt at his face. Once I was dressed I put my shoes on and peeled out of the parking lot like my car was stolen.

Traffic was tight. Track was pulling his clothes on in the passenger seat and GPS had us pulling up at the house at 18:58. Too tight for my liking. Once the freeway opened up a bit I gunned it. The speedometer rose to 80. 85. 90. By the time we got to the colleges exit the gps clicked us down to 6:56. There was a procession of us speeding and throwing sparks on speed bumps as I realized we weren’t the only ones caught in the backup. We all found good street parking spots around the house and Track and I stayed in the car following the instructions to not be at the house until between 7 and 7:15.

At 7:00 my watch beeped, and track and I got out of the car along with many others. We took a moment to tuck in our shirts, comb our hair and beards and generally make ourselves presentable before heading to the front door. On the door was a piece of paper with an instruction: form two lines and wait for a brother to retrieve you. We all organized ourselves into two lines, spot checking each other to make sure we were all looking as good as we could.

As the minutes counted I was glad the house was shaded by giant magnolias. My mom's house had been like this before... My dad's house was nothing like this. It was calming. An evening breeze was beginning to pick up rustling the leaves and kicking up the scent of grass. The oppressiveness of being in jeans in august in the south was lessened somewhat as the sweat evaporated into the evening air. I closed my eyes and reveled for a minute in the absolute perfection of this single moment.

I looked at my watch one last time. 7:15.

The doors opened and two brothers led us into the house. Immediately we were greeted with a cocktail party. I don't know why I was surprised by that as it’s exactly what the invite said, but still felt a little strange. Either way I could feel a wave beginning to build so I made my way to the bar in the corner.

“How can I help you Sir?” the chiseled furry stud behind the bar asked.

“How’s your manhattans?” I responded with a slight grin.

You could see the guys face light up. “I don't get to make them as often as I’d like, but I do love them myself”.

“Then I would love to have one if I can” I said with a full smile.

As he began to make the drink he said “Im Ryan”

“Novo”

“Good meeting you Novo, just gotta ask whats got an old dog like you in our house tonight” He said icing the glass with a troublesome grin.

“G.I. Bill and a letter from y’all” I responded trying to match his grin while staring at the tufts of chest hair his shirt couldn't contain.

“That right? I always like having military guys in here. It cuts down on a lot of pretense.” He said while beginning to shake the drink

“Pretense?”

“No one acts like they are big and bad from the suburbs when combat veterans are in house” he said while pouring my drink to the rim.

Perfect.

“Well Novo, I can make those for ya all night. Hope to see you tomorrow too” Ryan said to me, quickly talking with another person to make another drink.

I stared at my manhattan and it must have been a trick of the light but there were little glints of orange and gold, like little sparks or embers, glowing in my drink. An amazing trick. I took a sip and… this Ryan kid was on point. With my new social weapon in hand I went through the party to find Track and meet a few more brothers.

“He shows up with a pink martini”

“Its a Manhattan you child, and it’s brown”

“Sure it is Novo”

Track was standing alone in a corridor, far too nervous to make the first move anywhere.

“You want to try it?”

Track eagerly took a sip of my drink and immediately coughed a bit.

“It’s mostly rye” I said with a chuckle.

Not 10 seconds later an imposing asian man with a cowboy hat forced his way towards us. His thick southern drawl not entirely matching his external appearance and disarming the forcefulness of his approach “Good evening boys, I’m Teo and I am the president of this chapter of Delta Psi Theta. Before you get too deep in those drinks I was wondering if we could do a bid interview?”

“Im down” I said

“So am I” track said a second later.

“Fantastic, follow me and we can get you back to the party quick as can be.” I guzzled about half of the remaining drink and let Track finish off the rest before leaving the empty glass on a table at the bottom of the stairs.

It was too bright to see, ghosts with blades coming at us from all angles. Blood flowed from my brothers arms. Not today, not again. They came at regular intervals. If i could just catch one. How I was going to do that was a fuckin tall ask but in 10 seconds one would come from either my 3 or 9, and I’d have about a second to change direction. No matter what I yelled to my brother he couldn't hear me, and the more I tried to help him the more my feet buried in sand.

The glint.

My brain had barely registered before my legs moved of their own volition. If my brothers were to die I'm taking one of these fucks down with me. I lunged and as I did I felt a surge of power. It was as if I was no longer fighting alone. Instead someone was giving me tools to fight what I needed. In the air I could see almost like a ghost or some insane video game cheat a shield began to form around my broken arm. Before I could wrap my brain around that my other hand began to wield a blade I could not place in the history of weapons. The nearly transparent blue becoming more impenetrable by the milisecond. By the time we hit my blade was solid blue, with an incandescence to rival the room itself. The creature I hit was hurt, its blade was broken yet its defiance radiated as much as my own. When kicked it over and held my blade at its throat i saw it was…

I woke up locked in panic. I was on a couch near the basement stairs where it seems many of us had congregated. I had no idea where my shirt was and it seemed many of us were in similar predicaments. Track was curled up holding onto my leg like a pillow and another pledge was passed out on my shoulder. It was about 1am and visibly exhausted Teo and Ryan were trying to corral those that didn’t get bids or were just there to party out of the house. My body was still locked when Track groggily asked me “what do you remember about tonight?”

I pat his head and said “drink water tonight kid, tomorrows gonna suck.”

My throat told me I drank a ton. I clearly remembered getting a few more of those manhattans from an increasingly less dressed Ryan. I remember him coming out back with track, myself, and a few other pledges to shotgun some beers. But I remember fighting. My legs felt like i had kicked, my upper body like it had been sparing. A good night for sure but a confusing one, it was like I was in two places at once again.

A brother I didn't remember meeting but knew his name was Tyler came in with a stack of index cards.

“Ok boys, the card with your name has the room number on the back. When you get to your room number and pick a bunk, either left or right, make sure your name tag goes on the left or right of the door. Simple right? But y'all is drunk and this is gonna be less fun in the morning so let's try and get it mostly right tonight.”

All the guys slowly got up but Teo motioned for me to hold back. He cracked a beer and sipped it looking like he was building up the courage to say what he needed to say. “I have a question for you cuz getting answers on this kinda stuff is hard to get without just directly asking sometimes”

“Ok…”

“When was the last time you saw one of them?”

I steeled myself to ask the question I knew I had to, “Does this have anything to do with the laundromat yesterday?”

Teo looked at me confused as he sipped his beer, “Laundromat?”

“Track and I encountered, well I've called them shadows since I was a kid seeing them”

Teo just sipped his beer and said, “Umbrian. They are called the Umbrian. Get some sleep Novo. Tomorrow is going to be a big day”