Ch. 1 Iron Will

            Ronnie walked along the sloppily pasted concrete path to the dormitories. His eyes fixed upon the sheen of the moon. His pace quickened, for some reason he wanted to get to Will’s dorm faster. He quickly wiped his glasses clean with his bright red cardigan. His immensely large hair curled and lashed as the wind brushed it clean like a Mexican piñata. Why would Will miss drag bingo?  Ronnie thought as he reached the boundaries of the Co-ed DeMille Institution dormitories. Most importantly why doesn’t he answer his cell phone?  

            As any good friend will do, Ronnie was worried and decided to go check up on him. They go back to high school, Ronnie and him. The best of friends Ronnie could not say. Will was a bit precocious, a bit intrepid about his friendships. Being a well-known drag queen  gives him a sense of security, and also a reason to lock his doors at night. Howard University, as diverse and populous, does not lack the investigative students who pursue people like Will. The bible thumpers, as Will would call them, once threw rotten tomatoes at him in a gallery performance at the Student Arts Center. None of them were apprehended, and were just given a silly wag of the finger, and a slap on the wrist. 

            Ronnie thought about them as he entered the dorm building. The halls were oak brown, dingy and antiquated. He thought about how much he hated them; The Christ Crusade Club. The name itself was misleading, some people thought it was a crusade against Christ and in turn some joined and were later discouraged to find it was quite the opposite. 

            Being gay and part of the Gay Straight Alliance made him feel like he was at a constant struggle. Always fighting with the crusaders for student council meetings in the activities room, fighting for what they thought was freedom. It wasn’t bad enough they had to fight for everything in their lives they had to be driven from the things they love. Ronnie loved God, he adored him, worshiped him. It wasn’t until college when his faith dwindled.

            He stopped at the stairs quickly as he noticed the halls were suddenly quiet. Not a soul in sight. As it should be, who would be here on a Saturday night? Definitely not Will. But Ronnie had to check. He reached the second floor where Will’s dorm is. The hall was frigid cold; Ronnie wrapped his thin cardigan closer and tried to encompass his skinny body with his toothpick arms. 

            The halls were absent sound, absent warmth. Something wasn’t right. Ronnie knew Will to be a grade A queen. He would not stand for this condemning silence and this devilish chill. He would demand the groundskeeper to raise the thermostat to a bearable 75 degrees and would blast ABBA all over the halls, singing spasmodically to Mama Mia wearing a turquoise busty dress with rhinestones and sequins. Will was also a fan of wigs; his favorite was the Liza wig.  Whenever he was in the mood, Will would: snap on his Liza wig, slip on his favorite chartreuse dress, his favorite lime pumps, and parade around the campus as his alias Annita Mann. 

That is why he could not understand that the halls were not filled with gay music or that the temperature was not pleasant enough for the bitchy, self-centered, and flamboyant Will. Instead it was filled with an awful spectra and an eerie feeling. 

Ronnie seemed to sprint to Will’s dorm; finally arriving he banged on it as if a maniac with a chainsaw was following him. “Will! Will! Are you there?! Open up Will!”

 The sound of his incessant banging filled the halls. Donk! Donk! Donk! “Will open up will you!”

He began to think he wasn’t there and the thought of scampering out of the building like a child out of his first haunted house crossed his mind, but he was not going to leave without making sure.

He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Will’s number. He pressed his pointy ears against the door and surely enough he heard the tenacious tune that was ABBA’s Dancing Queen. He was in there alright, Will never goes anywhere without his cellphone. “Will! I can hear your ringtone open up!” A sudden chill whipped over Ronnie. What if something happened to him?  He thought nervously. The thought of finding Will in his bathroom with foam coming out of his mouth was the final soul biting proof he needed that refusing to take drugs in the 12 grade, offered to him by one of his closest friends, was one of the best decisions of his life. 

Ronnie checked himself he briefly gave penance to God, praying that Will was ok. He stood back and tried to kick the door down with his undernourished delicate legs. After a few attempts he stood back and decided to slam down the door with his side. The lock snapped open and Ronnie came crashing down into Will’s magenta wall dorm. The room was no bigger than a few square inches. Just a bunk bed and very regal boudoir.

At a first glance the room was empty. He stood up and surveyed Will’s  boudoir which was filled with mascara tubes, eyeliners, a hair dryer, and his Liza wig thrown onto it without the slightest care.  He looked at the rouge carpet and noticed it was wet. he crept towards the bunk bed and noticed Will’s jade Buddha on the floor. He bent down and picked it up. He set it on the boudoir. He instantly remembered Will’s cell phone. He dialed it again. 

“You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life. Ooooh see that girl, watch that scene diggin’ the dancing queen”

His eyes widened as the tune came from beneath the bunk bed.  With the most slowest gesture he knelt down to the balls of his feet, he outstretched his hand and in a sudden jerk he lifted the covers revealing the jagged, gaping, bloody face of Will. His body broken, contorted,and shoved under the bed so that his head and dilated pupils beamed at the edge. Ronnie gave a powerful jerk as he somersaulted backwards and hit Will's boudoir knocking down several ornaments. His knees slowly gave out and he was now on the floor looking at Will's "Cat eyes" from a few feet away, in shock.