Confession is good for the soul. It’s time to come clean. In the early 80’s I spent four years pursuing a Bachelor of Theology degree. During my time at Bible College I received somewhat of a reputation. Depending on who you asked, they would tell you, Brad is a practical joker, an instigator, a trouble maker, inspiration, fun. It’s not my desire to refute any of those characterizations of my person, rather, it’s time for a full confession of events, giving you the knowledge to decide for yourself if such reputations are deserved.
This story will takes several chapters to tell and may get a little confusing, but I hope you will stick with it to the end. All will eventually become clear. For some of you involved, reading this now, you will learn things that have been hidden for nearly three decades and I hope you should find it in your hearts to forgive.
Winter was nearing it’s end, when one Friday night at the George Street Residence, just past the midnight hour, I found myself knocking quietly on the door of Steve’s second floor room. I knew Steve, the lone occupant of that single room, was away for the week-end. I wasn’t looking for Steve. It was Danny who opened the door and it was Danny that I needed for this particular caper to work.
Looking at me with a mischievous smile, he laughed and asked, “You bring back the key?”
Shaking my head no, quickly glancing back over my shoulder to make sure no one was lurking in the stairwell, I said, “Come with me, quickly.” Danny started to question why but I cut him off! “It’s better if I don’t explain right now. Just trust me. Remember, you don’t want to know.” I lead him through the twisted hallways of the century old building – recently retrofitted into a dormitory to house forty wayward boys. We moved down a steep staircase to reach the small lounge on the first floor.
Satisfied we were not being observed, from the freezer of a battered, second-hand fridge, I retrieved the last pair of frosted ice cubes and placed them in Danny’s hand. He looked at the ice in his palm and laughed. Danny always laughed. He looked up shaking his head, not sure what he was getting involved in. “Brad, what?” I hushed him and motioned for him to follow me.
We reached the door of another room, conveniently left unlocked by Kevin, one of the residents of that particular room. The room was empty, Kevin was conveniently nowhere to be seen, nor was his roommate Chris, who I had conveniently learned was conveniently playing computer games up on the third floor. All this was very convenient for what we were about to do. I moved to the set of bunk beds and I pulled back the covers of the lower bunk; Chris’ bunk.
“Put that ice in this bed,” I instructed Danny.
Danny laughed and dropped the two small ice cubes on the sheets. He looked at me and laughed again. Then he looked back at the two small blocks of ice sitting on the sheets then looked back at me again waiting for an explanation. I knew he was confused. I quickly scooped up the ice and toss the cubes into the wastepaper basket and stepped outside the room pulling Danny with me. “Brad, what does any of this have to do with …?”
I stopped him, reminding, “Remember, you said you didn’t want to know.”
He slowly nodded his head in agreement but I could see in his eyes he desperately wanted some clue as to what was going on. After a moment he decided that plausible deniability was more important to him at this juncture and started back to Steve’s room. Halfway up the stairs he stopped , turn to me and said, “Make sure you bring back that key when you’re done.”
Maybe I am getting ahead of myself. I should back up this story a little.
To be continued: