Moral Currency

It was after midnight and Ed lay on his bed reading Sarum, a monster of a novel that spans 1000 years of history of Salisbury Plain and Stonehenge and was definitely not on any class syllabus. A half eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich was on the bed, and a tall glass of Penthouse Ice Tea on the floor. There was a knock at the door and he got up, opened it and his friend Perry stood there in only a pair of orange and white polka dot boxers.

“Hey Ed,” he whispered, “can I come in for a second?’

“Of course, come in.”

Ed closed the door and sat down on the edge of the bed. Perry sat on the desk near the window and put his feet on the old wooden chair. Ed’s room was small, only about 6 feet wide and ten feet long. Standard size for a prison cell, hospital room or a dorm room, of which it was the latter. A closet and a little white sink completed the accommodations. Perry lived four doors down the hall in his own miniscule room in the Freshman Dorm they had sarcastically dubbed, “The Center of the Universe.”

Perry hunched over with his elbows on his knees with his forehead resting in his open hand.

“What’s going on, man?” Ed said.

“Oh bro,” Perry said, not looking up. “I’ve got a situation down the hall…”

His long blond hair fell over his Roman face.

“C’mon, what the hell’s going on, man?” Ed said, taking the last bite of his sandwich.

“Well, you know that girl Shirley I met in Western Civ? Um… I took her up to Thayer St. and we got a bite to eat and now she’s over and you know…”

Ed burst out laughing.

“Are you kidding me?” he said, leaning back on the bed. “You’ve known her for what, a week?”

 “I know, man” Perry said, “She is not messing around…”

“Obviously.” Ed said. “Can I ask you something? Why the fuck are you in here with me right now?”

Perry grinned, a little shy.

“Well, she’s getting into it, and me too, but…I don’t know, I’m not sure, plus, I don’t got anything…I don’t got any…protection.”

Perry brushed his long blond locks from his face and looked at Ed who was already smiling. He laughed again.

“You have got to be shittin me.” Ed said. “Why didn’t you just come out and say it. Love is love, even for a night, right? Look behind you, man, right behind you there, in the stein.”

Perry turned around. “What..?” he said.

“Right there in the stein, you see it? The gold thing.” Ed said, getting up, “I’ll get it.”

He reached over Perry’s shoulder and took something out of a glass beer stein half filled with coins.

“Here you go, my man.” He said, handing the small object to Perry, “and that’s not Christmas chocolate neither.”

Perry took it in his hand and looked at what appeared to be a gold coin the size of one of the old silver dollars.

“That’s what you’re looking for, right?” Ed said, sitting back down on the bed.

Perry stared at the strange object.

“If that’s not what you’re looking for, my man, you may be in need of some serious help.”

Perry sat there staring at the “gold coin.” He was a moral person, 18 years old and no prude. Perry valued sex as an act of love, even though this was most unusual for young men his age. He was one of those rare ones, a person who could get any girl he desired, and who had plenty of attention, solicited sometimes, but mostly not. His exotic Italian looks, his brains and a tender singing voice is what the girls loved about him. But he was a true romantic, longing for spiritual as well as physical intimacy with a woman.

“C’mon, Ed.” He said. “I’m just not sure. But she’s in there man and she sure is ready. It’s crazy. We were only in there for a few minutes before she had her hands down my pants.” Perry smiled. “She is one live wire.”

“Like a lot of the others around here,” Ed said, “that’s what the Catholics do to these girls. Make them repress the most natural impulse, force it deep down in a cave of denial, so when they’re out of the nest it all comes bubbling up. You lucky bastard.”

“C’mon, man. I won’t disagree with you,” Perry said, “but I’m not sure about this. I mean I don’t even know her yet. It might be a little fast.”

Ed thought for a moment. He was no Casanova and not a womanizer by any means, and he was also raised in the Catholic Church. But long before he started his first semester he had already begun to see the hypocrisy and futility in many of the Church’s rules. Being at a Catholic College further exposed the inanity of the purported values force fed by the religion. This was obvious to Ed by the way the students around him were getting flat out hammered and the girls and guys were hooking up like crazy. He considered if this was one of those times, and if this girl Shirley was coming out of her repressed-shell. He wondered if it even mattered. It’s got to happen sometime. Might as well be with a good guy like Perry.

“Well.” He said, “you’ve gotta decide if its time or not,” he said. “You, and her, I guess. But it seems to me she’s already decided. I, as your friend and colleague in life, support the use of that gold coin to the utmost, either now or later. So keep it, I got more.”

Perry sat on the desk staring down at the cold coin, his blond hair tucked behind both ears.

“But let me tell you one thing,’ Ed said, “and I’m serious man.” Perry looked at him.

“You won’t even feel that motherfucker it is so goddamn thin!’ Ed laughed, and Perry smiled.

“Where’d you get this, anyway?” he said.

“Aha, you’ll never know my friend.” Ed said, “I got a bag of tricks and kicks you don’t even know about, bro.”

 “You sure do,” Perry said, “of that I have no doubt.” He got off the desk and walked towards the door.

“Thanks, man.” he said.

Ed opened the door.

“No problem. Anytime.” he said, “Oh, by the way, I like those trunks: Hot.”

They shook hands and hugged. Perry tiptoed down the hallway like the elf he was and stopped in front of his door. He held up the cold coin, winked, and disappeared into his room.

Ed closed the door and sat on the edge of the bed. He took a sip of the Penthouse Ice Tea that was already warm. Funny shit, he thought. Then he suddenly felt quite alone. He looked around his room. The faucet in the little white sink dripped silently on a yellow rust mark that had been at the drain for years. Ed finished off the tea and put the glass back on the floor, lay down and opened up the book.

“That lucky son of a bitch,” he muttered. “Lucky bastard.” He said, a little louder, and began to read.