The Cryptic Teuton Priest
My father left for München on Sunday, not having offered an explanation regarding his proclaimed reckoning. I heard tales floating around campus the next day about a male student who had gone to the hospital with “venereal complaints,” which prompted everyone to speculate on whether he had chlamydia or something worse. Whether that story had any connection with my father’s doings, I could only guess. I wondered whether he had cornered the beer dude in a dark alley and cut off his testicles.
Soon afterward, Beth, Joel, and I relocated to an apartment complex about fifteen minutes from campus by car. Most of the renters there were elderly, and the complex offered no student discount like the cheaper places nearby. Thus it became our reprieve from the insanity of c
