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    RolandQ
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Second Adolescence - 4. Chapter 4: Coming Together

The participants grudgingly adapted to the life a prescribed by Dr. Pettit, the only real enthusiasm emerging during meals. After only a week, some signs of improvement could be seen. Skin began to clear on those troubled with acne. A kind of vigor could be detected beyond the previous malaise. Thus far, only two rounds of injections, the prepared diet and mandatory exercise comprised the program. Pettit wondered how to further gel a team out of these disparate individuals.

He walked into the not too distant town one afternoon seeking an idea more than pursuing a goal. He found himself in front of an old fashioned gentlemen’s haberdashery. The windows displayed the full array of attire, “From hats to spats” gold letters proclaimed. Even to Pettit this seemed woefully out of date. He entered, the expected bell jangling as the door opened. The interior had seen few customers, judging by the overly still air.

“May I help you, sir?” a cadaverous man asked from the gloom.

“Ah, yes. May I speak to the proprietor?” Pettit asked.

“You are.”

“I’m Dr. Pettit of McDowell College,” he began. “I’m running very special program and am looking for organizations such as yours that may wish to participate as sponsors.” Pettit could feel the man tense. “Of course, you would be noted in the scientific journals that will result. And I have the assurance of President Smithson that the college community will respond favorably to sponsors.”

The proprietor nodded knowingly. “What do you need, Doctor?”

“I was hoping to outfit the participants in the program, not with a uniform, per se, but clothing both functional and yet distinctive. Something that shows an aspect of self-pride so lacking among most students.” Pettit was drawn to a display of button down dress shirts and khaki trousers. “Perhaps something as classic as this.”

“I’ve got a storeroom full of them, all sizes. You’re welcome to them. Kids only want jeans and t-shirts these days, the ruder the better.”

“Excellent. May I impose on you to deliver them to Kayson Hall at your earliest convenience? You see, I fancied a stroll today.” Pettit covered his lack of transportation, the rental car long since retrieved by the car company.

Pettit’s next stop was the nearby tonsorial parlor whose anachronistic presence rivaled that of the haberdashery. Within he met Sammy, the sole barber. During the much needed haircut, Pettit endured a lament on the lack of personal grooming in fashion among the young. Pettit nodded his agreement, at risk of an ear. Sammy waxed on, going so far as to offer a free haircut to any youth willing to suffer that apparent indignity. Pettit perked up.

***

The newly delivered attire was met with groans. The students saw this as another forced compliance by Dr. Pettit and his program. None reflected on their otherwise compliant attire universally accepted. Pettit waited for quiet. “On another matter, gentlemen. In addition to dressing according to the program protocol, I have arranged with Sammy, local barber supreme, to address the overall disreputable appearance that dogs this program. And while I’m on the subject, facial hair will no longer be tolerated. This should be a relief for the less hursuit among you whose paltry showing must be a source of embarrassment – something I share, myself.

A few days later, a trimly clad, freshly shorn group emerged from the dorm. Now visibly apart from other students, the participants sought each other out when in class or abroad on the campus. Pettit remarked on a lighter spirit among the participants, even improved posture. Could any of this be due to his program? Was the real benefit of the program these elements of team building? He hoped for much more. Another review of the bi-weekly examinations showed no changes other than some gain in height which was more likely attributable to better posture. The next round of injections was due the following day. He would have to steel himself to be patient. It was hurry that had derailed his previous experiments.

Improved attitudes brightened the whole of Kayson Hall. Friendships among the participants were beginning for form. Spontaneous study groups formed helping each to do better with school work. A sense of pride for the dorm was evidenced by a general tidiness in rooms and public spaces. Quiet hours were respected. Students actually studied. A few of the faculty had contacted Pettit concerning students who had begun to perform at unexpected levels.

‘Patience,’ Pettit cautioned himself, ‘patience.’

Copyright © 2015 RolandQ; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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