The Boo by Pat Conroy Read Free Book Online Page A

political science convention at Annapolis. He came to talk to The Boo one afternoon, very frustrated and bitter, and told him his department had chosen to send a man with rank, instead of a senior private. Something like the image of The Citadel was involved.
    Mickey Rollins and Ed Zurowski rated the titles of first class bums, but both of them were pretty good students. Both of them liked to have a good time and play the la dolce vita bit. They were playing leap frog one day on the beach, when Mickey leaped too far and landed on his head. The broken neck sustained in the fall nearly killed him. It was damn close for a while, but he made it.
    Theoretically, Carey Tuttle would graduate in January if the gods continued smiling warm smiles upon him. Some god quit smiling and The Boo caught him selling hot popcorn on a chilly night in early January. The month restriction would prevent him from graduating, so he begged The Boo to give him some chance of escape. The Boo slapped him with a fine of $50.00 that would sweeten The Citadel’s treasury. He paid off forty-two dollars. Hereby, let it be known that Carey Tuttle still owes eight dollars.
    Jimmy Spur’s father was a classmate of The Boo’s at The Citadel. Jimmy stayed in trouble with the law during his entire career at The Citadel. He and The Boo had several disagreements and The Boo nailed him with a punishment order. Later, some merchants downtown complained that Jimmy owed them a lot of money. Boo co-signed a note of a few hundred dollars so he could pay his bills.
    One thing which irritated upperclassmen of the 1960’s was the sight of perspiration stains ringing the armpits of obese freshmen awaiting inspection at noon formation. Whether this was because of television’s influence with its ubiquitous commercials extolling the virtues of desert-dry underarms or simply some hang-up which became generalized throughout the Corps, no one really knew. The mother of David Wellman stormed into The Boo’s office one day. She was a large and effusive woman with her exaggerated features heavily made up. She begged and exhorted The Boo to keep the hungry pack of upperclassmen from, devouring her fat, sweating little boy, David. She had sent him deodorants, both stick and spray, special odor-killing soaps, powders, and even deodorant pads. Nothing worked. Big, ugly perspiration stains still plagued him at noon formation. She wept copiously and as she told the tragic story of her son, she did not notice The Boo on the edge of hysteria, trying to keep from laughing as he watched the purple rivers of mascara drip down her face with every tear.
    When Larry Wolf walked up the flight of stairs in Jenkins Hall and walked into Courvoisie’s office, it was easy to tell that something was eating the kid. “Colonel, I have something to tell you.” “What is it, ‘Wolf’?” “Colonel, I just have to get married. I have to. I love her and she loves me and we just have to get married.” “That’s fine, Wolf. But The Citadel’s no place to be married. Your wife can’t be with you. There’s no sense of companionship. You’d miss the hell out of her during the week, break barracks every time you got the chance, and get yourself into a lot of trouble.” “I know, Colonel, but we’re in love and there’s nothing else we can do.” “O. K. Good luck, Bubba, whatever you do.”
    Several weeks later Larry returned to his office with tears in his eyes and said, “Colonel, something terrible has happened. I have to go home right now. I can’t wait for the weekend.” “O. K., Bubba, you have twenty-four hours.” The Boo later learned that Larry’s girl had married another guy from their home town.
    Pete Reston and Jerry Bester engaged in a kind of psychological warfare against each other their entire senior year. Jerry, being a cadet major, held a distinct advantage on the disciplinary battlefield. Pete, fighting with limited resources, helped stimulate Jerry’s intellectual