Folklore 480

By Ronald Koertge

He goes back to his hometown after two tours. Nobody calls him
a baby killer. Mostly, “Hey, man. Where you been?”

He takes advantage of the G.I. Bill, imagines Uncle Sam reaching
into his red, white, and blue pants for tuition.

He signs up for Folklore 480. He makes the counselor smile when
he asks if he needs to take the other four hundred and
seventy–nine classes first.

College is harder than high school. The people are smarter and
serious. Now and then some of them go out after class for beer in
the patio of Lighthouse Pizza.

They can smoke there under the fairy lights and plastic grapes.
The place closes at ten. They’re the last to leave, milling around
in the parking lot sharing a joint.

He writes a paper about the war: “My Home Is In the Dark
Forest.” The teacher praises it. Classmates start asking him for
help.

He goes to their houses like a country doctor. He likes seeing how
they live. Meeting their husbands or parents.

Compared to what he’s been through, college is like following a
trail of bread crumbs leading to a gingerbread palace.