Bill was in rare form this evening, swinging his arms wildly in drunken gestures, as he magically tried to unravel the secrets of the Universe. It had to be getting close to 3 a.m.. We had been up all night both celebrating and cursing life with equal amounts of unbridled enthusiasm as only twenty year old Americasns can.

We sat at the top of an abandoned slate quarry. The company had apparently struck water and given up the enterprise of gathering slate long ago. This was probably for the best, slate was not used as it had been in the past. The days of slate walkways, and roofs were over.Today walkways were made of prefabricated concrete molds and tar shingles were the only thing that covered our roofs.

The water was over a hundred feet below us. Every now and then Bill would stagger to close to the edge and you could hear tiny pieces of slate bouncing down the jagged cliff.

'Tim man you're dazing," said Bill, as he abruptly swung his arms toward me. "Sorry, I said, I guess it's time for another pink heart they're so magically delicious." Pink Hearts were sold in many convenience stores and mini-marts across the United States. These little tablets contained obscene dosages of epdhrine and caffeine. They resembled the pink hearts found in the cereal Lucky Charms. Pinks Hearts were only legal because they were sold as asthma medication, however, there was no doubt what they were being marketed for. The sign "Pep-Up Counter" gave the real intent away. Even the most naive person understood this "asthma" medication had other uses. Still, I doubt if many parents were aware just how much of these cute hearts were being ingested by their children.

"So you were saying college is the end of life not the beginning," I said. "Well, think about it," Bill continued, scarcely aware that I had spoken. "Your four years of college are the last time you're going to really know anyone or feel emotions as intensley as you do now. After this your life will be a selfish pursuit of money and imaginary power," said Bill. "The whole time you are trying to achieve these superficial goals, you will actually be attempting to recapture the passion you lost with your youth.

I didn't believe much of what Bill was saying, but it was fun watching him get so much enjoyment out of hearing his own voice. Besides, when Bill would spry out his shot gun blast of ideas usually one or two would make perfect sense. His little tidbits of wisdom were often more profound than anything I had heard in college lectures.

Bill continued his discourse ambivalent to the obvious gaps of logic. His speech was uninterrupted by me and he never slowed to considered his own arguments.

"After college," Bill continued "you'll get some job you find less and less meaningful with every passing year. You'll marry some women because you'll realize you need to marry someone or there will be no one left to marry. You'll get pissed at continuing paying rent on an apartment and getting nothing. Plus you'll want to impress the Mrs. "So," Bill said frantically "You'll decide to buy a house. Bad fucking move man! Man, this is where everything will change. You'll be as fucking poor as a street beggar because of the mortgage that ends up being more of a commitment than that precious fucking wife that started the problem in the first place. And then you're into the system, man, no way out! Now, Now..." Bill was working himself into a frenzy. "Now that sweet girl you married, who you thought wanted to share in all of lifes most beautiful adventures actually goal it to get a bigger house and raise a family.
"You're so fucking bored with the shit that is your life, you'll say sure 'hon, a family, great idea! Now you have kids that spend all their time crying, shitting or eating. Every dime you can scrounge up goes to support your family. Then come the teenage years! They're no different then your teenage years with your parents. You know, they treat you like shit and you treat them like shit. General dislike all the way around. You spend the last of your hard earned dollars sending them to college and helping to start them on their way. The fucking circle of life. The vicious cycle then begins again."

I realized Bill was starting to believe the shit he was saying. I thought I better try and cheer him up. After all, there's nothing worse in this world then a sad drunk.
"Yeah, all that might be true," I said, "but if your wife gives good head and likes to fuck like an animal, who cares." This did the trick, Bill perked up and even began to smile. He was ready to find something else to amuse himself with.
"You ready to hit it?" Bill asked. "Yeah, lets go," I said.

With this we downed the last of our beers and headed toward "the whit ghost." The "ghost" was a white, '69 Mustang, five speed, with a 351-Cleveland Engine. She was dented all to hell but what she lacked in beauty, she more than made up for in muscle. The trail out of the quarry, was just that, a narrow trail of mud and rock. Most people would be hesitant to attempt the trail in an off road vechicle, let alone a car. But for Bill, cars were toys made for amusement and abuse. These little outings seldom ended without the "white ghost" receiving yet another scratch or dent. We bounced along the trail with the glee of children on a bumper car ride. When we hit the payment, Bill pushed the gas causing "the ghost" to fish tail. Smoked rolled from the back tires. Bill managed to straighten her out a split second before hitting the sign reading "Township of Delta, Pennsylvania." As we roared down the road I saw the swirl of Delta's dust behind us.

In a way Bill was everything that I was not and I everything he was not. Bill was as flamboyant in appearances as he was with his gestures. He always wore something non-matching, colorful and loud. Bill was six feet two inches, 220 pounds. He had long dark bushy unkempt hair; dark complexion and a face that always made the ladies take notice. I was medium built five feet ten inches, 170 pounds with fair complexion and light brown hair. The kind of face I had could easily blend into a crowd. I was a very reserve person, while Bill was more the loud happy-go-lucky type. I found it difficult to be intimate with the woman in my life. Even when I was in long term relationships. Let alone strangers. I had only been with four women and all of those were in monogamous relationship.

For the past four years I'd been in a relationship with Liz. I felt it was genuine love and hoped she would someday be my wife. Liz was the kindest person I'd ever met. She had a way of making everyone happy. People were drawn to her charm and everyone liked her.

Liz called me the night after my outing with Bill. She said, she had something important to discuss. After dinner we returned to my off campus apartment for what I thought would be a night of love making and holding her in my arms till morning. To my surprise she said, " Bill this isn't working." I thought she meant nothing more than she was not in the mood and so I ceased the advances. "You just don't seem to want to take life seriously", she said. "You just want to go out and get drunk. " College is nothing but one big party to you." "I think it is time we start seeing other people but I mean we can still go out sometimes, I want to stay friends." Liz never had liked my drinking." She would smoke pot occasionally but never touched booze. She told me alcohol made people rude and obnoxious. Liz must not have liked college much because that's about all that ever went on.

Liz, her real name was Elizabeth but I always called her Liz, was beautiful. Though I realized she was dumping me, I kept thinking (You are so beautiful please hold me). I think at this point she realized that my lust was not completely in check and she became frustrated.
"Look, she said it just isn't working." I made some pathetic pleads but to no avail. She assured me as she was leaving that she would call me soon. My first reaction was to become angry with her. I was not ready to follow that chronicle toward death that Bill had outlined. Shortly after she left depression set in.

I skipped classes for a couple of days after the breakup. I needed sometime to sort through things. It seemed that people continued to drift in and out of my life. The people I was most close to years ago I now hardly saw anymore. Liz was partially right. I didn't care much about anything, anymore. I didn't buy into the pessimistic views of Bill but I would not say I was not optimistic about the future. The way I saw it people were not very good for each other.(Continued on Delta II)