Lafayette Railroad (Instrumental)

There was an enormous problem with all of their plans. Not a single one proposed would ever come to fruition. In fact, each proposition would make flooding downstream worse. I knew by the time my turn came it could be a bloodbath, but didn't matter that much. Here we just called it the "Lafayette railroad", because of the school name and you hardly got to speak.. But then, maybe they didn't know what I knew. And presenting fourth, maybe they wouldn't even realize it by then. It wasn't supposed to be just an assignment for school, but also a gift to the city who had so graciously invited us and paid for our expenses. Only one, mine, could possibly work. Even in the early 1980's, floodway regulations were incredibly strict, and no one else had given it one iota of thought.

I felt myself getting queasy, the way it usually happened before critiques. Yes, "crits" was the nickname they gave them, but "hell" or any variation would work. I put on Carmex, as many did before the inquisitions. But licking your lips couldn't save you from bad answers, and you did not want to give them those. They were ready, and invited from everywhere in the university just to judge you!

There were two doors with small windows leading into the auditorium, one was more public, and the other led to a back hallway where the bathrooms were located. It was where I was hiding out until they literally called my number over the school P.A. system. Just then it intoned that number three was expected in three minutes. The sound of retching came from one of the stalls. I thought, "I feel you, brother." Most of us had done the same, even the rich legacied fraternity guys. The body responds how it will. So I was about fifteen or twenty minutes from my performance, and I would spend that time in the back hall. I really didn't want to watch, but I did do some listening, and the real issue didn't emerge as far as I could tell.

Number four was a fairly good number. I was paid $500 once to swap my number two slot for number twelve. There were more of us then, over twenty, but attrition made us an even ten remaining in the class. The three spot was dead center of the auditorium stage, where five projects were placed in all. Since none of the audience had to crane their necks, they were always in a better mood. But if they were coming for you, it didn't matter, and I was up. I entered the room through the second door with my backpack, and dropped it to the floor. I unzipped it an pulled out an extendable pointer. The project was announced along with my name, and I began to explain how my project would be developed. Just as I knew it would, one voice cut me off.

"This looks like a typical engineering solution! Where is the design?!" She was the dean, she knew I worked for engineers and hated it.
"Doesn't look like any kind of design, 'tall." Her toady in our department added.
"I was told I had five minutes to explain my work," I said. I was also twenty-seven, and she loathed returning students.
"Young man, I don't need five minutes of blather to try and change what my eyes already see," The dean went on.
"All eyes and mouth. Perhaps you could use your ears now and then," I responded dryly.
She was seething. "What... did you say to me?"

Just then, I saw my two friends enter each of the doors and block them. They wore ski masks and totted some heavy duty looking weaponry as well. I reached down into my bag a retrieved a somewhat shorter, but just as lethal looking firearm. I kept it pointed towards the ceiling.

"I said it's time to shut up and listen," I responded to her. "I'm going to suggest you, and everyone else, do just that."

I looked around the room. It seemed like one professor, who knew me very well, was going to try and talk me down. I looked at him and shook my head slowly and he understood. The big clock on the back wall read 2:25.

"Well, it looks like I have until 2:30, and I assure you all, the time is mine." I started. "First, let me make this perfectly clear. Just because I intend to be a Landscape Architect, does not mean I won't use the assistance and direction from other disciplines. In fact, no matter what they teach you here, you will need them. I'm going to show you why."

I pointed at my project map, this time with the barrel of the weapon I held.

"You see how the whole length of my project area here is devoid of structures? Well, that's not an accident, because all of it is in a designated floodway." I looked down at the podium. "According to Section 60.3(d)(3) of the Federal Emergency Management Code, and I'm paraphrasing, 'It prohibits encroachments, including fill, new construction, substantial improvements, and other development within the adopted regulatory floodway unless it has been demonstrated through hydrologic and hydraulic analyses performed in accordance with standard engineering practice that the proposed encroachment would not result in any increase flood levels, blah, blah blah."

I stopped for a breath and looked up from my notes. I pointed around to all of the other projects in the room. Their heads turned as I pointed, and it didn't take a whole lot for those in the room to realize exactly what I'd been saying. Some nodded, there were very soft whispers, and sighs from some students in the room. I gave it a half minute.

"Don't get me wrong. There are some excellent designs in this room, and they should be taken at face value, because no one was given all the information required to get it right. But make absolutely no mistake... not another project in this room could actually be built. When we started this, it was to be a 'gift' to the city that showed us great hospitality. What is it now? If you send these, it'll be a joke, and it's the faculty that'll be the laughing stock."

I stopped and waited, listening to all the quiet sounds in the room, including the clock ticking. "Well, my time is up... Questions?"

The dean jumped up like she'd been goosed, "How dare you come in here armed just to lecture us? Who do you think you are!?"
"Well, clearly I'm the only one in the room with the required knowledge of FEMA flood regulations," I said to a couple snickers.
"You are also just a student! You have no right to lecture here, to... to... teach. Not anyone of us!"
"Odd, I was thinking the same thing about you," I replied. "Hiding in the halls of academia has let the world pass you by, Dean."
"Yet here I am training these young minds," She smirked.
"That... is something I might be willing to fix," I said.

With that I leveled the matte black weapon, and as every person gasped, I pulled the trigger. Once, twice, and then a third just for good measure. Several people sitting nearby were hit with the splatter, but all three shots hit their mark, and had done the harm that was intended. Personally, I thought she'd have gone down, but instead, she stood there sputtering.

"You... you... will never graduate from this university! I will see to that!" She howled, soaked from the water gun blasts.
"Is that a fact?" I said as my comrades beat a hasty retreat. "These projects were graded a week ago, I paid the registrar, and I am a graduate!"

With that I fired a few more shots to rain water down on a mostly laughing crowd, stuffed everything quickly into my pack and beat my retreat out the main door. I slowed to a brisk pace, headed for the spot where the car would be waiting, and took a quick look back. Expecting at least one or two to follow, I managed to make a quick turn and be out of sight before anyone would spot me. A couple of minutes later the car was exiting the parking lot with all three of us in it. My fraternity brother had been easy to convince, and my old roommate only took a bit more coercion. We all had a nervous laugh.

"Still north, Bro?"
"Yeah, if they were going to chase us, they'd think east. Fastest way to the border that direction," I replied. "Besides, I do have a plan!"
"Well, I hope that one doesn't involve me," My old roomie said. "That was enough excitement for a while."
"I must say, though, that had to be the best critique of my life!"

(WC:1477)

No lyrics

Composers: George / Payne