BEYOND THE PALE © Mike Perschon, 2003
Chapter One: Leaps of Faith
   Buck runs. Running naked across the campus, screaming at the top of your lungs. The exhilaration and somewhat perverse pleasure of knowing that the girl’s dormitories would probably wake up to the noise, to look out, to see. The feel of your testicles crawling up under your stomach from the cold. The challenge of sneaking past the RA’s room, then propping the door open and getting back inside before you were caught. Mind you, not that anyone was too worried about getting caught. Faces might be recognized, people even taken aside later and talked to. But ‘buck runs’ were something which North American Bible College didn’t want to admit their students did. Especially when tenants from the nearby apartments called and complained about the noise at two in the morning. It looked bad for the school, and so rather than deal with the youthful foolishness, the school’s administration turned a blind eye.
     It was this blind eye which found Chet Kingsley, a freshman at NABC in nothing but his shoes, cupping his more delicate parts in one hand so as to avoid ‘flapping in the breeze.’ His penis was too cold to be any trouble during the sprint across the campus. Around him were some twenty other male students of Whittecker hall, ready to brave the cool autumn air. The campus lay silent, the foyer dark as the young pastors and missionaries to be chuckled and giggled.
     “Ready?” a voice called in the dark, to be answered by Murmurs of affirmation and agreement, then the door being opened.
     Twenty screaming males, naked as Adam, running as fast as they could out into the night, their only witnesses the stars above. Lights began to come on, first in the girl’s dormitories, then in the mature housing. Faces appeared at windows as the first nude runner touched the wall of the skating rink. He turned and bolted back toward Whittecker as others slammed their hands down against the wooden barrier, some skidding on the dewy grass.
     Chet was among those who found themselves sliding out of control toward the wooden barrier. While most of the human projectiles were flailing madly to keep from wiping out completely, Chet’s modesty kept his hands cupped over his nuts. Just before Chet slammed into the rink’s wall, he leaned backward in a reflex action which sent his feet shooting out from under him. His body slammed onto the cold ground, forcing the wind out of his lungs. His next reflex action was to get up as quickly as he could to catch up with the other runners, who were now almost halfway back to the dormitory.
     He had taken quite a spill, and his lungs were aching in tandem with his back, never mind the grass stains on his ass. Running immediately after having the wind knocked out of your lungs was unpleasant at the best of times, and this was far from being the best of any time. He wondered if he were caught, would he be expelled? That would certainly show all the girls back home in Drayton Valley that he was more than just average. He was crazy, just like everyone else.
On his way back to Whitteker, Chet stole a glance at the mature housing to see if he knew any of the spectators to the buck run. There were a few familiar faces, and when they waved, Chet’s modesty again reminded him that returning the greeting would let his balls loose. Instead, he let out a high pitched whoop, turned his attention back to where he was heading, and got ready to sprint the final yards to Whitteker.
     It was then he saw the man on the ledge.
     The third floor of Millar hall sported a ledge outside the windows, big enough to stand on. Just barely big enough.
     Standing on this ledge was a young man with curly brown hair. His eyes were closed, and he seemed to be oblivious to the noise going on down below him. Chet stopped dead in his tracks and began to slowly approach Millar hall.
     “Chet!” someone shouted behind him. “What are you doing?”
     “There’s someone up there.” Chet replied feebly, his voice quiet and pensive.
     “Chet, get back to the hall!” another voice shouted from a window in Millar.
     “There’s someone out on the ledge!” Chet shouted, gaining confidence beyond his state of undress.
     “What!?” The sound of a screen being popped out reached Chet’s ears, and he looked to see one of Millar’s residents leaning out of the second floor to see what Chet was talking about.
     “Oh no.” The student ducked back in the building, and Chet could hear busy noise, voices, doors opening.
     Then the unexpected happened. The young man on the ledge leaned forward, his arms stretched out on either side, as though he were jumping into a pool. Chet gasped and raced forward, not knowing what to do.
     The last thing he remembered before being struck by the body and knocked unconscious was that this last selfless act had required him to raise his hands, forcing him to expose that which he had been doing his best to hide.

     Brian Geary was in his first year at North American Bible College, taking a Bachelor of Religion. Most people he spoke to assumed that this bachelor meant that Brian was studying all religions, and was preparing to become some sort of guru, but the truth was, the only religion Brian really studied at the college was Christianity. There was a course on world religions, but it was taught from such a strong Christian bias that it almost negated any learning one could do on the subject. Not to mention that the religions were passed over with such speed and superficiality that the students were hard pressed to gain any objective opinion regarding them.
     Brian had grown up in a small community in Southern Alberta, raised by his adoptive parents, the Geary’s. The Geary’s were strong church folk, and had always made a point of seeing that their only child made it out to Sunday School and the like. Brian had become a born again Christian at summer camp when he was quite young. During his teenage years, he volunteered both at the church and with the young offender’s program at the local prison. From an early age, he had always wanted to help people. His mother was fond of relating a story where young Brian once took his Bible to school in the hopes of evangelizing his classmates. Teachers spoke of his leadership abilities, and his bright disposition. In his late teen years though, Brian went through the usual period of rebellion and experimentation that many teenagers do growing up in a small town. He drank, partied, and even tried grass. His days of revelry ended in a one night stand with a girl he was positive was in love with him. The night after they slept together, Brian phoned to see how she was, and instead got the girl’s sister, who reported that Pam was out with her boyfriend. Brian was crushed, and at that bottom point, met Simon Magodi.
     Simon was an intern at Brian’s church; originally from South Africa, Simon was taking classes at North American Bible College during the school year, and helping out at the country church in the summers. Simon was in charge of the youth program, bringing life and vigor to the word of God which Brian had never before experienced. Simon became Brian’s confidant. The story of Pam and the drugs and the drinking all came out one night as they were watching a baseball game at Brian’s. Simon helped Brian through that time, and rekindled the fire for helping others Brian had once had. He even convinced Brian to try Bible School and to consider going into the ministry. Brian thought about it, prayed about it, and the summer after he graduated, accompanied Simon, who was in his fourth year back to Edmonton.
     The two had decided it would be best to room together, partially because Brian was worried about making friends, but also because Simon had become somewhat of a mentor to Brian. Simon was a Residence Assistant in Millar hall, which meant that he was in charge of making sure other students got in for the mandatory curfew that the school enforced.
     It also meant that Simon was the first person to hear about Brian’s leap off of the third floor of Millar.
     In the hospital, Simon waited anxiously for Brian to come around.
     “What happened?” Simon asked his younger friend.
     “I don’t know.” Brian said slowly, his words slightly slurred.
     “You’re just lucky that freshman Kingsley was underneath you when you jumped.”
     “How’s he?”
     “Broken and cracked ribs, sprained wrist. I think the thing he hurt the most was his pride; he was nude when he caught you.”
     “Buck run?”
     Simon nodded. The two sat in silence for a moment before Brian shook his head.
     “What I don’t understand,” said Brian, “is how I got up there. I don’t have a history of sleepwalking.”
     “So you have no idea how you got up there?” Simon asked him.
     “None.” They both sat in silence for a few moments, and then Brian said. “Cowboy. I was dreaming about a cowboy."
Chapter Two - The Mystic Cowboy