Second Adolescence - 2. Chapter 2: The Boys

“What’s the hubbub, Smithson?” the rotund man at the far side of the poker table asked.

“Yeah, Smitty, why the ‘emergency meeting? Is the accreditation board after the college again?” a still living cadaver worried in the adjacent chair.

“Well, Boys, the answer to our prayers walked into my office today. He’s got connections to the military and can attract funding. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what a fine boondoggle that can lead to. Even in its sorry current state, the college generates more revenue for the town and surrounding countryside than anything else. If it goes, we’re all sunk. You do remember that we started this whole college thing to make money. So far, it’s a bust, but if this special program can give us just a couple of hears, hell another semester, and that brings in the military, well, we’ll be sitting pretty.” Smithson was expansive.

“What’s it going to take?” asked a small, bent man nearest Smithson.

“We give him a dorm, Kayson Hall is empty anyway, some credit, Patsy, you can float another credit card for six months, can’t you? And a dozen or so students and I have just the ones in mind. That batch of freeloaders the feds make us take. If something works out for them, great, if not, no loss.”

“Is there any way we can be held as personally liable?”

“That’s the beauty of this thing, we can dump any blame on Pettit as the program head.”

“Okay,” agreed the fat man, “but that can’t be all the program needs.”

“Maybe not, but I’ve got another angle. You know how the accreditation board is always hounding us to do more with the town. The way I figure it, we invite them to provide support for the program, guarantee the other students use their business and services and get what we can out of them. If we need to redirect some money from the general fund, well it can’t be much. Think of the potential.”

“I’ll take your word for it, Smitty, but this is our last chance. Any bad publicity will send our few paying students running. We’d have to shut down before the end of the semester. Every one of us will be bankrupt and as officers of the college may well face some jail time.”

“We’re agreed, then. Good. I’ll tell Pettit tomorrow. I wonder how long it will take to get this off the ground and we can start courting those military contacts of his?” Smithson opened the paper bag he had been holding. “Scotch, gentlemen? It’s 12-year old. I thought we should splurge in anticipation of our returned success.”