My girlfriend Louise and I had gone to Portsmouth, Ohio to stay a while. We were going to study in high school and needed to take a few classes to finish up. We went to the high school and sat down in a room divided into two sections. A partition, which seemed to consist of hanging beads, ran across the room dividing the front from the back. One could see through the partition. Louise sat in the front section and I sat in the back. The people sitting in the back of the room were quite advanced, while those sitting in the front were just average high school students.

Louise was wearing a suit. She was angry with me and I didn't even know if she was going to talk with me anymore.

A male teacher, who reminded me of professor Wendorf, was sitting at a desk in front of the room; he began asking questions of different students in the room. I noticed how young and attractive the girls in the class were, but they seemed too young for me.

I was enjoying myself. I felt as if I were learning many things which I hadn't learned in high school. A couple fellows in the back of the room were thoroughly discussing everything; but I basically remained quiet and listened to the topic under discussion.

Suddenly the teacher said something quite nasty about Louise and I became infuriated. I looked at Louise and saw that she was quite upset and appeared to be crying. I jumped up and shouted, "She's a bastard! No, I mean not that she's a bastard. I mean you're a bastard for saying things like that about her."

The teacher didn't seem upset. I picked up a pillow I had with me and threw it toward the desk. It went through the beads and landed near the teacher's desk. He looked startled.

I motioned to Louise; she rose and we walked out into the hall together. She was speaking to me again. She began crying and I put my arms around her and comforted her. She said she had been unsure she was going to see me again and she had wanted to see some kind of sign. Now that she had seen me take up for her she knew I really did care about her.

We stood in the hall a while longer before returning to the room. Louise returned to her seat. Realizing I had actually overstepped by throwing the pillow, I walked up front, picked up the pillow and said to the teacher, "I apologize for throwing this pillow."

He didn't say anything and I returned to my seat. I then realized I had sat in the wrong chair and I moved to my original chair. Class was finally dismissed and as we left I realized we were actually at Shawnee State University. We walked outside, encountered Roger Anderson and Steve Weinstein and boarded a car which Anderson was driving. I sat in the middle of the front seat and Louise sat on my right. Weinstein was sitting on the left side of the back seat and chewing some gum. He didn't say anything and he seemed to be half asleep.

We drove along Second Street and then turned onto Offnere Street. I felt good about having Louise in Portsmouth so she could see where I had lived and grown up. I realized she didn't know exactly where we were and I said, "I know almost every house on this street."

She acted startled to think I had been in almost every house and she said, "You do?"

I said, "Well, I have not been in almost every house. But I just know them. I've seen them so many times."

The area was lush and green and I even thought how I knew where the trees were here.

Louise was despondent because she hadn't yet found a job and she kept saying, "I'm going to find a job. I'm going to find a job."

I consoled her, "Yea. I know you're going to find a job."

I caressed her arm. I thought she just needed to be quiet and not talk about it, but she was so concerned. It seemed the more she talked about it, the more doubts she had about finding a job.

We reached Gallia Street and I saw the large Catholic church and the large Methodist church on my left. The Methodist church was constructed of some beautiful brick. The churches were actually interchanged so the Catholic church was where the Methodist church was supposed to be and the Methodist church was where the Catholic church was supposed to be. I pointed to the Methodist church (sitting where the Catholic church normally sat) and said, "My father used to go to church there. And I've been in those churches."

I tried to remember whether I had ever actually been in the Catholic church, but I couldn't remember.

We turned right on Gallia Street and I saw another building and said, "That used to be a grocery store there."

The building was presently being used, but it was no longer a grocery store.

We were trying to decide whether we should stay in Portsmouth. I thought we should go elsewhere.

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