Becoming an Adult by June Wolfman

Becoming an Adult by June Wolfman

Chandler couldn’t focus on Physics 2 or Calculus 4, despite the exams coming on Friday, because it was another night of drinking for the pledges in his fraternity. He voted against drinking as a thing for pledges, but he was alone. He decided he wanted to check on the newbies and, while he was at it, get a cheese sandwich when he heard a commotion. Chandler hustled downstairs and stuck his head in just to make sure all the pledges were in one piece. He bolted into the room and bent over what looked like a dead teenager; it was his friend, Brian, lying on the carpet in the group room.

“What have we done?” Chandler mumbled as he checked and found no pulse, and then began to administer CPR on Brian. “Call an ambulance!” he yelled to his “brothers.” Chandler glanced at all his fraternity brothers standing in a circle to his left, mumbling about “getting their stories straight.” He continued to administer CPR, and, as efficiently as he could, and paused to call for an ambulance, then went back to CPR.

“He was drinking alone,” said the fraternity President, Sam, to the circled group.

“We discovered him like this,” said another senior.

“Chandler!” Ryan, one of the young men, whispered, “They went to high school together. He’ll tell.”  Whispering in the circle of brothers. Ryan continued, “Chandler’s a risk. We have to do something about him.”

“You’re going to do something about ME?” Chandler yelled while breathing heavily, still doing CPR on Brian. He suddenly screamed loud enough that the framed awards on the walls rattled. “You want to kill me, too? Are you all that craven? You want to force someone to drink themselves to death and then kill anybody who might tell about it?”

“You think you are innocent because you don’t take part in hazing. Well, you knew about it, didn’t you?” said a guy named Ted.

More chest compressions. Chandler was sweating all over Brian’s grey face. The CPR was getting exhausting, with no sign of life, and the ambulance was taking forever.

 Finally, the EMTs arrived. The “brothers” had left the door open, so the EMT’s just raced in.

“What happened?” said a husky man as he ripped Brian’s shirt open.

“He drank himself into this state,” said Ted.

The EMT’s worked fast. They tried the electric paddles. “Clear!” buzzing and then bang! Then a tall guy administered some sort of shot. Again, “Clear!” buzzing and then bang.

Brian coughed.

Then he retched. Again. Again.

The EMTs asked Brian a whole bunch of questions. “What’s your name, son?”

“Brian.” He retched.

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“What day is it?”

“Hell if I know,”

He retched again.

EMT’s quickly got an IV in Brian, with a lot of trouble.

“How much did you have to drink, son?”

“I’d rather not say.”

“We need to know.”

“I’d rather not say.”

“Are you a member of this fraternity?”

“I’m a pledge.”

Brian started to sit up, but the EMTs gently held him down.

“We are going to bring you to the hospital, Brian. They lifted him onto the stretcher.

“How long was he unresponsive for?” an EMT asked Chandler.

“I don’t know, but I did CPR for a long stretch.”

“You probably saved him. Good man.”

“Brian,” said Chandler, “I’ll go with you to the hospital.”

The EMT’s covered Brian’s body, except his head, with a blanket and headed out the door with him. Chandler followed.

“Can’t ride with us, kid,” one EMT said.

“The hospital is only a few blocks away. Hell, I’ll run. I’ll probably get there with you in this traffic.”

Three doctors surrounded Brian when he was delivered to the ER.

“Marcy,” said one ER doctor, and said something about liver tests.

“Don,” the doctor continued, “get an oxygen mask,” then Chandler heard something about oxygen levels.

Chandler reached for Brian’s hand. Brian began to cry. Chandler did, too. They held hands as much as possible with all the needle-sticking and oxygen protocols.

Brian retched again, but hardly anything came up.

They asked him to pee in a cup, but he had no pee to give.

“You’re dehydrated,” said a nurse.

Brian retched again; almost nothing came up, but what looked to Chandler like bile.

The nurse said, “Get it all out, buddy. That’s good.”

A neurologist entered the crowded space and began testing Brian’s reflexes and other functions.

Chandler slouched down in the chair near the bed.

They had to do some sort of vacuuming of Brian’s lungs. Something about vomit aspiration.

After what seemed like many hours, and many IV bags later, a gray-haired doctor came in, holding an iPad. He looked at the fraternity insignia on Brian’s sweater for a few seconds.

“Brian?” he said. “Your liver is stressed. We won’t know if that is temporary or a larger problem unless we keep you overnight and test at regular intervals. Also, I’d like to have your heart checked. Do I have your consent to keep you overnight?”

Brian looked at Chandler. “What do you think, Chan?”

“I think we’d better stay overnight.”

“You’ll stay with me?”

“Absolutely.”

The doctor said, “There is a policeman who wants a word with you. How about I tell him not until at least tomorrow? He winked.

“Great,” said Brian, and then he fell asleep, snoring.

“They want to talk to you, too, son,” said the grey-hair to Chandler. “I’ll tell them you’re in shock and can’t talk until tomorrow. Better sit still in this wheelchair. You know, I’m an alum of your fraternity, going back forty years.”

“My dad and my granddad too,” said Chandler. “Thanks for keeping us away from the police.”

The doctor smiled. “What’s your last name?”

“Cooper,” said Chandler.

“Will Cooper’s grandson?”

“Yes, sir,” said Chandler.

“Is he still practicing law?”

“Yes, sir,” said Chandler.

“Send my regards,” said the grey-hair, the name is Samuelson.

“Yes, sir.”

Tomorrow came a year later, it seemed. The Dean of their college visited them at eight a.m.

Neither Brian nor Chandler was happy to see him.

“Just here to ask if there is anything that I can do…I can get you excused from classes or tests.”

“That would be great. Thank you, Sir,” said Brian.

“I’d like a small leave, too, Sir,” said Chandler. “Just a couple of weeks, please.”

The Dean looked at Chandler’s white-blonde hair plastered to his head and dark half-moons circling under his eyes.

“I’ll arrange two weeks,” said the Dean.

“Thank you.”

Brian rubbed his eyes. “Did someone call my parents, Sir?”

“We were unable to reach them,” said the Dean.

“They are farmers. They work ‘round the clock in this season. I’ll call them. Sir? Am I in trouble?”

“Let’s leave that for another day, okay? For now, you are not in trouble.”

“Thank you,” said Chandler.

The Dean reached over and mussed Brian’s hair. “Glad to see you are well enough to worry about school.”

A different grey-hair entered when the Dean left.

“You’re a very lucky young man,” he said.

“Why?” asked Brian.

“Your liver is recovering well. But you were legally dead for a few minutes there. I recommend rest for a few weeks. No school. Drinking is absolutely out. Do you have somewhere to go to rest?”

“I’ll go home to my parents’ farm. Can I drive?”

“I don’t advise it. Not for a few weeks.”

“I’ll drive you,” said Chandler.

“Thanks.”

At eleven a.m., Chandler and Brian were still waiting to be discharged, and a handful of the “brothers” including Sam the fraternity president came to visit. “The cops came and asked us what happened,” said Ted. Sam shifted from foot to foot.

“What’d you tell them?” Brian asked.

“That we found you like you were,” Tim continued.

Chandler bit his bottom lip until it bled.

“Okay, that’s what I’ll say,” said Brian. He ran his hand through his brown curls.

“What are you going to say, Chandler?” asked Tim.

“It’s up to Brian,” he mumbled. “Brian, do you want me to stick with that story?”

“We have to,” said Ted. “By the way, Brian, you’re in. You’re a member now.”

Brian smiled.

Chandler felt faint.

“Stick to the story, okay?” Brian asked Chandler.

“On one condition,” said Chandler. Looking at the “brothers” and especially Sam, Chandler said, “No more alcohol hazing.” None.”

“We came to that conclusion anyway,” said Tim. Sam here had us up all night.”

Sam, the fraternity president, said, “Can I talk to you, Chan?”

Chandler bolted straight up, grabbed Sam by the collar, and dragged him into an empty room, then punched him in the face twice. The blows landed with thuds, and Sam’s head hit the wall.

Sam’s lip split, and his nose looked like it was swelling.

Sam yelled, “What the hell, Chan?” He shoved Chandler away viciously. “What the hell?”

“You and everything you stand for, that’s what,” said Chandler.

“We’ll talk later when you are less angry,” said Sam, and he bolted.

Back in Brian’s room, the “brothers” were telling jokes, and Brian was too tired to laugh.

“Guys, could you get the hell out of here?” asked Chandler, nursing a swollen hand.

“What? You don’t want to be seen with us now,” asked Tim.

“I want out of ‘us’,” said Chandler.

“No,” said Brian. “I only tried to join to be in the same frat as you. Please, Chandler, let’s both stay in.”

“You saved Brian and the whole house,” said Tim. “We want you. We voted to kick Ryan out. His comments about doing something about you are criminal in our view. The rest of us had no intention of upsetting you or hurting you.”

“Yeah, but you were willing to stand around getting your stories straight while….” He looked at Brian, who looked confused.

“Please?” said Brian. “Let’s both stay.”

Two nurses returned with discharge paperwork.

Two hours later, Chandler and Brian gathered their suitcases full of necessities from the house, and then Chandler drove them out into farm country in upstate New York, toward their hometown.

“Your hand is swollen,” said Brian,

Chandler quickly put his hand on his lap. “It’s nothing to get worried about, Brian.”

A half hour outside of their hometown, Brian said, “I don’t think I’ll ever drink again.”

“Good.”

“You really feel like leaving the house?” asked Brian.

Chandler thought, Just thinking about those guys makes me feel dirty by association. What he said was, “We have time, both of us, to settle down and make decisions. You know, my parents finished their harvest and are away…”

“Oh, please bunk down with us,” said Brian. “There is a spare guest room. When I tell some version of what happened to my parents, they will be desperate for you to stay.”

Chandler looked around at the oaks and maples, their leaves turning fire-engine red and goldenrod yellow. “Yeah, I would appreciate the hospitality.”

Brian rubbed his completely black and blue bruised chest and said, “You saved my life, Chandler. The EMTs talked all about it all the way to the hospital.”

“Okay, okay. So name your first son after me?”

“Done.”

Nearly two weeks later, Chandler walked around to the east side of the cow barn and lifted bales of hay to feed the critters. Then he hauled buckets of some special grain.

He heard the gravelly sound of a car on the driveway and left the barn to take a look.

It was Sam. He had a splint on his nose. He had what was left of black eyes. Sam just sat in the car, rolled his window down, and looked at Chandler.

Chandler walked like he was a kid, kicking the fallen leaves as he went to the car. “What do you want, Sam?”

“The brothers voted to ask you to be the new president of the house.”

“What? You’re the president.”

“They say all that happened was on me.”

“It’s sort of true,” said Chandler.

“I didn’t know things were going to go the way they did! We’ve had the same hazing rituals for generations. You went through it. I went through it. Our fathers went through it. Anyway, because of how you handled things and how I handled things, they trust you more. Who else would we get for the job? They won’t have me. Would you at least think about it?”

“Shit, yeah, I’ll think about it.”

“Take your time. The offer stands for three weeks.”

Sam rolled his window down further and offered Chandler his hand to shake.

Chandler stood motionless.

Sam said, “I’ll drive back to school now. Just think about it.”

The smell of dinner cooking was about the best smell Chandler had ever enjoyed. There were apple pies. Brian’s mom was cooking a roast. Of course, there would be mashed potatoes. Chandler thought about calling his father to talk to him about his decision on the fraternity. But he knew what his father would say. Don’t be a quitter,

He didn’t want to be pushed around right now, so, he just let the question sit inside him and followed the smell of food.

* * * * THE END * * * *
Copyright June Wolfman 2026

Image Source: Reza Madani from Unsplash.com