Chapter Twenty-One: Character
By Jason Goldtrap
At 3:50 pm, Sarah saw Emily and Jan in the lobby of the Joseph K. Toole auditorium.
“Em, Em.”
They hugged.
“Where did you two go?”
Jan held up an opened box of cashew fudge.
“Oh, I see.”
She reached in for a piece.
“May I?”
Jan nodded.
“Thank you, Jan.”
Emily stated forthrightly,
“Jan stutters.”
Sarah smiled.
“Oh, that’s why you don’t talk much?”
Jan was embarrassed.
Emily looked her in the eye.
“Jan, if you don’t tell people about yourself you will find that making new friends is almost impossible.”
Jan rolled her eyes, but, then reconsidered. She whispered,
“Ya, ya, ya, ya, you’re right.”
Emily asked coyly,
“So, where is Simon?”
Sarah said,
“He’s helping a bachelor auction at the Science Building.”
Emily was intrigued:
“What’s a bachelor auction?”
“It’s some kind of charity fundraiser. Eligible bachelors go on the auction block, girls bid on them for a date to tonight's ball.”
Emily grinned.
“That sounds like it could be fun.”
Sarah agreed.
“It’s right after the tournament, speaking of which, let’s get a seat.”
The girls stepped into the one thousand seat auditorium which was nearly packed.
Sarah gulped.
“Em, there’s more people in this room then there are in Eagle Creek.”
Emily patted her back,
“So what? Sarah, you can do it. I’ll be here cheering you on.”
Sarah relaxed.
“Thank you for your support.”
Emily added,
“But, then again, if you do not make us proud- we’re going to do what Jan?”
Jan made a funny face.
“B, b, b, booo booo booo!”
Sarah was aghast but laughing.
“Augh! You’ve known each other four hours and already you’re conspiring against me?”
They found seats near the back. Sarah had registered earlier for the tournament with Simon. She was given a 3x5 card with the number 44 written on it in red. Folks ambled about in the crowd, many talking softly to each other.
The stage lights went dim and then a curtain opened. On stage was a podium, five chairs and two large wheels. A woman walked up to the podium from back stage.
“Good afternoon, my name is Opal Lannom, assistant director of Communications for Jennings University. Today’s program will be on rhetoric.
Like many things at Jennings University, we have a special and unique method for managing our rhetoric competitions. There are ten students of Jennings in the audience. They look no different from you. They will be your judges. Since you do not know who they are may I suggest you speak up and annunciate so anyone in the auditorium can understand you.
The order of speakers will be decided by chance. There are two wheels, one with four colors and the other with fifty-six numbers. Each of the four colors represents a topic.
Blue is: How does geography affect American foreign policy?
Red is: What is your most treasured possession?
Green is: If God exists, why is there suffering in the world?
Purple is: If you could travel back in time, would you?”
Emily leaned over.
“Holy cow, Sarah! This sounds tough.”
Sarah gave Emily a smirk meaning.
“Thank you for stating the obvious.”
Opal Lannom continued.
“I will spin the number wheel. The color wheel will be spun by my associate Mrs. Masters. No one has the advantage of having an hour or two to prepare. You will each be given three minutes to speak. You oration must be completed by three minutes and thirty seconds or you will be disqualified. You may bring notes; however, we encourage you to speak extemporaneously. Now that we have explained the rules the competition will begin immediately.”
The crowd murmured.
Opal Lannom stepped up to the right of the wheel and another woman stepped to the left. On cue both women spun the wheels.
“Our first speaker is number 51, the topic shall be…If God exists, why is there suffering in the world?”
A young man nervously stood up and made his way to the stage.
They spun again.
“Also speaking on this topic shall be number 02.”
Another young man made his way to the side of the stage.
"Number 43 will speak on the subject of foreign policy and geography. Number 28 will speak on a treasured possession. Number 17 will speak on time travel. Please have a seat on stage in the order on which you were called.”
On stage were 5 young men.
Sarah sighed.
“Whew. I have a little bit of time to prepare and size up the competition.”
She closed her eyes and began to concentrate.
“Jan and I are praying for you too.”
Sarah replied,
“Um, thank you, but I was concentrating.”
Emily cringed.
“Oh, sorry.”
Sarah shrugged.
“Don’t be, we all need prayers.”
A young man sitting directly behind them was nervously tapping on the chair behind Sarah with a pencil. Sarah opened her eyes and glanced around to the young man:
“Please?”
He smiled.
“Oh, sorry. It’s a nervous habit.”
Sarah nodded and return to her meditations.
He waited a few minutes and then started again. This time Emily turned around and gave him a glare.
“My apologies; it won’t happen again.”
Once more he started tapping with the pencil. Jan reached behind Sarah, grabbed the pencil and snapped it in half. She returned to him the eraser portion of the pencil.
“Hey, I need the other half back.”
Jan gave Emily the pencil. Emily turned around and smiled.
“I get the impression that you make more mistakes than eloquent sentences.”
He was angered. He reached for the pencil. Emily unbuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse and dropped it in.
The young man panicked.
“Hey, give that back!”
He reached around but then quickly withdrew his hand without touching her.
“Excuse me, mister?”
The young man sank into his chair. He sighed.
“I’m not getting that back, am I?”
Emily was coy, she signaled the young man to come in closer with her right index finger. She whispered,
“Not without a wedding ring first.”
Jan and Sarah laughed quietly.
The young man was playfully frustrated.
“I need that back, I am serious.”
Emily snapped,
“Quiet! Settle down or I’ll challenge you to a duel. It’ll be just like Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton except this time Aaron will win!”
Upon hearing that Sarah raised an eyebrow.
“Did she just say…? Ah, who cares?”
The crowd began clapping.
Opal Lannom said,
“Thank you Mr. Duncan.”
She and the other lady spun the wheels.
"Number 16 will speak on the subject of foreign policy. Number 29 shall regal us on the question of suffering. 44 will tell us about a most treasured possession. 33 will speak about time travel. 32 will speak on the topic of foreign policy.”
“The second round,”
Sarah thought to herself.
“Good, let’s get this over with, I’m getting butterflies.”
Sarah stood up as did the young man behind her.
Emily waved at the young man and blew him a kiss.
He winked.
“Thank you.”
As Sarah made her way to the stage she exchanged silent pleasantries with the other girl on the stage who sat next to her. Speaker Number 16 was Kyle Robinson from Missoula. He was so-so. The next young man delivered a fiery oration and had the crowd in the palm of his hands. They hung on every word which is why they laughed so hard when told them that Alexander Hamilton killed Aaron Burr.
After that bit of slapstick comedy, it was Sarah’s turn at the podium. She thought to herself,
“Here we go. Don’t look at Emily, she’ll start making faces. Do not trip and splat on the stage. Just keep cool, Sarah, keep cool. You can do this.”
She cleared her throat.
“What is my most treasured possession? What do I own? I do not believe it to be anything tangible. In one sense, I cannot own a house because it can be taken away either by legal confiscation or disaster. A valuable gem might be stolen or lost. Can I own a pet? Well, I have a cat named Sarafina. Like most felines, she is independent minded; she’s not a possession. I am reminded of a cartoon which says, ‘Dogs think they're people. Cats think you're really stupid cats with food.’
My clothes will rot or be given to charity when I die. My soul is on loan from my Creator. My vote can be stolen via fraud. My mind can be robbed by madness. I own stocks whose value can dissipate via mismanagement. My body can become diseased. So what do I own? I own everything I am. The only thing I own is my character.
My character cannot be robbed by death. If I am true and faithful then the aspects of my deeply held principles will live on in the hearts of my children. My character can be defamed but that stain lasts only if it is not protected by the memory of those who knew me best. If I live up to my principles, if I climb the summit of my beliefs and there plant my flag then any false accusations will be fallible and lacking permanence. My character can not be compromised without my consent. Character, like any other high concept, can only be given away.
Character is molded and built upon a foundation of everyday experiences. Moral behavior is an aspect of character but it is not the whole as saluting the flag is not the complete definition of patriotism. I submit that there are three foundations of character.
The first foundation must be the maintenance of a solid time commitment. The writer Nathaniel Emmons wrote, “I could never think well of a man's intellectual or moral character, if he was habitually unfaithful to his appointments.” If you say you are going to be somewhere or someplace then, baring extraordinary unforeseen circumstances, there you are. You can not be an individual of character if your scheduling is subject to whims. If your word is meaningless in this area, why should you be trusted in any other?
The second foundation is the ability to look at and believe in someone greater than yourself. You are not the key to the universe's existence. Focusing on your own happiness, success, or security is like holding water in your hand. It will slip through your fingers and whatever is left over in your palm will leave you wanting. The gift of happiness is only obtained after it is given away. The avenue of success appears only after a long journey of adversity. The fortress of security is built upon the realization that your enemies are ultimately poor foes whose damage can be repaired or healed by the balm of time. The greater criminal is the invited guest of worry.
The third foundation is the ability to see the big picture of any situation. Often we are tempted to look only at the here and now. What makes me happy today? is a foolish question. What will make me whole, tomorrow? is a far better one. What impact will my decisions have on those around me? Will I chose to continually please myself or shall I show concern to my fellow man? What charms me most, temporal lusts of the eyes or virtue? Those who see the big picture and sacrifice for it, history books call them ‘heroes.’ Those who are overwhelmed by temporary problems, those who seek quick fixes, those who cannot see the difference between what is critical and what is trivial, we woefully call them, ‘the forgotten.’
Preservation of character must be a priority for any person or any nation to survive. Please consider a Godly character your greatest possession and let your enemies know that you will fight like a rattlesnake to keep it. Commitment from each individual American will raise the tide of character and lift all ships. Even still, the influence of that resolve for personal progress shall lead to advancement on uncharted worlds thereby ensuring a brighter tomorrow. Thank you for your time.”
The crowd responded with sustained applause. Sarah returned to her seat confident. She looked across the assembly. Emily and Jan were both giving her thumbs up. She straightened up her dress. After the last speaker in Sarah’s group, a break was called.
As the house lights came on, Sarah said,
“Ok, let’s go.”
Emily cocked her head.
“Don’t you want to stay and see the others?”
Sarah said,
“Nah, I want to relax a little and talk to you and Jan. Also, I want to see if I can find Simon.”
The ladies gathered their things and walked down the aisle. Emily started to leave but she turned around and walked back to her seat. She felt sorry for the young man. She unbuttoned the middle part of her blouse, reached in and then gave him back his pencil, a maneuver he enjoyed observing.
“Thank you, Mrs. Hamilton.”
“Any time, Mr. Burr.”
Jan, for the second time in as many hours, was stunned and aghast at Emily’s boldness.
Sarah, for the ten thousandth time in her life, was stunned and a little envious of her boldness. The young man just sat there, smiling and staring at his pencil.
