January got busy. February happened. Capstone projects loomed large for the seniors. Writers were occupied with the publication of our Ballpoint literary anthology. Finals. Snow days. The Treasure Group battled to make time and focus creativity, and it took a moment to regroup.
On one of the snow days, sitting at my desk, I started scribbling out Clarence Arbuthnot’s journal. Using the bones we’d talked about as a group, I played Frankenstein and knitted together the body of a story.
I’d share it when I got back to campus. There wasn’t a second chance for this enterprise; if we didn’t pull off Admiral Clarence Morgan Arbuthnot’s story this year, the building would be gone and with it our chance for this particular adventure.
One of the fellows from our construction team stopped by, showing me photos he’d taken when he crawled into the attic space above the library. In the 1950s the present library had been the auditorium, later a gym. When it had been constructed in the late 40s the builders had used huge unfinished beams that he suggested we might salvage for our new building. Marvelous, I thought, and…
I had the idea for the way we could find Clarence Arbuthnot’s journal and start our adventure. For the first time in weeks, it felt like we were taking a big step forward.