Illustration by Camila Garcia
Clinching a cupid is great, especially when a capricious change of scene yields that fate.
Unbeknownst to Ken, such a whimsical watershed would make a surreal splash on his life on Valentine’s Day. This fluke would beget the best relationship of the sophomore’s years at Montclair State. And all it took was being at the right place at the right time. It is funny how dumb luck often surpasses any smart strategy. Ken would forever thank his Valentine’s Day eve decision to visit the Student Center lobby, instead of the Red Hawks’ Nest as usual.
Like most undergraduates, Ken stood ready to spring into action after his winter break hibernation. The accounting major felt ready to resume business with his number one subject. The nearly straight-A scholar loved his international business minor. Ken also cherished his Chinese language concentration. The tongue’s uniqueness charmed the collegiate like a parade of pink paper lanterns.
Ken craved scholastic success even if his studies stretched longer than the Great Wall of China. He always came to class with his A-game, even if the class proved cheesier than a B-rated movie. Ken sported the can-do attitude of a C-suite executive. But the next chapter in his college life would upend him like a D-day invasion.
Ken expected nothing noteworthy about his upcoming European history course. He considered the general ed elective as old hat as a centurion’s helmet. Even so, the collegiate was glad as a gallant gladiator to go head-to-head with European history. It was just another battle of the brains to extend his reign as an academic Caesar.
The sophomore settled into his chair in his fourth floor University Hall classroom. Ken came extra early for the first day of his Perspectives on European Civilization course. He arrived 10 minutes beforehand to survey the scene. As usual, about 15 other students sporadically trickled in and promptly sat down. Their limp body language incarnated apathy like a stone-cold statue.
The twenty-something professor robotically entered the silent room. He looked like he came fresh out of the adjunct factory. He resembled Gabe Kaplan from Welcome Back Kotter without the welcoming vibe. Ken noticed in a blink that this instructor’s absence of authority stinks like Colonel Klink. The teacher conveyed the attitude of ineptitude like Sgt. Schultz. But the last person to come to class exuded a charm more head-turning than a stalag alarm. She was also as disarming as an all-clear signal.
As Ken opened up his laptop, he noticed a curiously cute woman seated next to him. She resembled Lt. Saavik from “The Wrath of Khan.” She didn’t have pointed ears, but the bewitching aura she exuded was on point. The inquisitive manner in which she pivoted her head indicated a profound intellect. Ken felt an instant tractor-beam tug toward this foreigner. And his intuition’s precision would prove to be as pinpoint as a phaser lock.
The adjunct professor introduced himself before going over the syllabus. He recited the class calendar as perfunctorily as the library computer aboard the Starship Enterprise’s bridge. It really didn’t matter that the instructor’s voice was more human. Its automatic cadence conveyed the professor’s perfunctoriness as much as it braodcast the course’s information. The roboteacher then looked around the class of zestless zombies, before asking a lead-off question.
“Who among you here can give me a halfway decent definition of the word ‘civilization?’”
A pall of silence hung over the room for about 10 seconds. Then, Ken’s object of attraction seized the professor’s cue for a pool table rack busting debut. Her response was more distinctive than her accent.
“Civilization is a complex and sizeable society at, or heading towards, an advanced degree of culture, education, norms, communication, government, economy, technology and social hierarchy. Civilization is actually a phenomenon whose essence transcends the sum of the individual parts that I just mentioned.”
The adjunct’s surprise swept across his face like a sudden squall.
“That’s a very well thought out definition. Have you studied university level history before?”
“Yes.,” Ioana said matter-of-factly, “I have studied history at the University of Bucharest.” The impressed professor nodded repeatedly. “I am a Romanian exchange student. My name is Ioana. This is my first semester at Montclair State.”
“But I bet it certainly won’t be your last,” Ken quipped to the amusement of the whole class.
“Who said that?” the adjunct said with mock anger.
“I did,” Ken said, raising his hand. “My name is Ken. I am both the smartest and most humorous guy in the den,” he said amid more chuckling.
The professor was hardly amused at that wisecrack.
“Let’s see how far that gets you in this class.”
As the adjunct resumed his talk, Ken’s mind whipped up more questions about Ioana than a journalist on an investigative scoop. “Is Ioana a scholar? How does she know so much? Why is she here as an exchange student?” What’s her major? What are career ambitions? I wonder what it would be like to date her?”
Silently, the sophomore mused about one comical irony. “What’s Ioana doing in a class of yawning pawns when she’s the queen of intellectual dialogue? She probably has the brains to debunk this defunct adjunct!”
Ioana didn’t need to her rear her royally riveting grey matter to outstrip the professor. He was already doing a good job of stalemating himself into a draw with endlessly boring discourse.
Increasingly, Ken diverted his thoughts to Ioana as the 90-minute class plodded on. The instructor’s monotone drone provided a perfect opportunity for reverie. Ken’s exotic classmate possessed far more pizazz than the mundane monolith standing before the class. He was spending seemingly centuries mumbling about some mumbo-jumbo about Europe in the Middle Ages.
Likewise, Ioana was becoming the damsel in digress. The exchange student shot more and more frequent flashy smiles and flirtatious expressions at Ken. He did not need The Beatles to tell him there was “something in the way she moves.” Little did Ken know that the story would eventually play out more like the rock group’s hit “All You Need Is Love.”
The cat and mouse game picked up momentum over the next several weeks. The classroom dallying, and the chance encounters around campus led to a Valentine’s Day eve breakthrough in The Student Center cafeteria. Ken had just finished lunch. He began to exit the noontime madhouse which had the place buzzing like a sports stadium.
By chance, he ran into Ioana near the cafeteria’s main entrance. Without warning, she let out an effusively cheerful “Ken!” The sudden encounter took Ken by storm like a Red Hawk football offensive line blitz. Despite that, the optimistic student made sure not to fumble this golden opportunity.
“Ioana! How are you? How’s life been treating you so far at Montclair State?”
“Good. Very good, indeed. I’m glad to be here. I am adjusting to student life here in the United States very well. What about you?”
“Everything’s fine. I’m taking six classes with 18 credits this semester. It’s nice that the semester is getting underway after the slow winter break. The cold really sucks this winter, but what can you do?,” he said with a look of resignation.
Ioana could not help but blare back-to-back beaming smiles. The conversation was brief since both undergraduates had to schlep to their next classes. But the chat did not end before cell phone numbers were swapped. Better yet, arrangements were made for a coffee meet the next day at Saxbys in the Felicano School of Business building. For him, Ken felt that this Valentine’s Day date meant business more than the café’s home edifice.
Later that day, the high achiever headed towards his usual Hawk’s Nest haunt after his international marketing class. On a whim, he decided to swing by the Student Center lobby, since Valentine’s Day was tomorrow. Out of curiosity, he wanted to see if any Valentine’s bake sales were happening. Inevitably, he found the usual campus organizations bandying cake and candy.
Then, the sophomore uncovered a table that emanated straight out of a fable. Near the Student Center ballrooms, Ken encountered the Montclair State Role Play Club stand. The characters staffing the flat screen flanked kiosk looked like they came straight from Central Casting in Hollywood.
One man was decked out in a Continental Army uniform. A woman was costumed as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. Another was caparisoned as Herman Munster. Ken already felt stranger than a visitor at 1313 Mockingbird Lane.
There were other colorfully adorned oddballs. They were going in and out of the Student Center Ballrooms door. Between the flaring flatscreens lied rows of pink and red roses. Each one was wrapped in green floral tissue with an attached water vial. A man dressed as the 1960’s Batman remained perched over the Valentine Day flowers.
Ken came closer to the table and gazed at the pretty roses.
“How much do the red roses go for?”
The Batman actor faced the sophomore.
“They’re eight bucks a piece. Would you like one?”
True to form, Ken could not resist pulling Batman’s leg.
“Is delivery by Batmobile included in the cost?”
The caped crusader played along with Ken’s frivolity.
“That depends. Surcharges do apply if the address is more than 14 miles from Gotham City.”
“Well, the destination is definitely within the 14-mile limit,” Ken said. He focused on the flowers a few seconds before continuing. “Actually, I’m looking to get something really spectacular for a new girl I’m just crazy about. I’m going on my first date with her tomorrow, on Valentine’s Day.” The sophomore’s voice tensed up. “It’s a classmate with whom I feel great attraction, and vice versa.”
The Batman character then perked up.
“I know exactly what you need. Wait here. I’ll be back in a minute.”
The caped crusader entered the ballroom door. Ken expected him to return momentarily. Instead, another Role Play Club member came to the table a couple minutes later. This was an age 30-ish man sporting the iconic uniform of the 1950’s superman George Reeves. Remarkably, this figure had the Roman countenance and valiant voice of the yesteryear superhero. And he carried himself with a matching air of authority.
“Good afternoon. I’m Superman. I hear you have an important need for Valentine’s Day. How can I help you, sir?”
Ken innately felt as if he were in an “Adventures Of Superman” episode. He jokingly thought that Jimmy Olson and Lois Lane were going to show up any minute.
“My name is Ken. I have a special wish for Valentine’s Day. You see, I want to get a flower that will, uh,” the sophomore hesitated briefly, “We’ll, maybe this is not a job for Superman,” he said, with a smirk.
“We’ll see about that!” the man in blue and red tights declared. “Just tell me more about what you are facing?”
Ken then shared the same story he told the Batman actor, to which the Superman character had a fascinating reply.
“Well, perhaps can I interest you in buying a super rose. It’s expensive, but it will sweep your sweetheart off her feet faster than a speeding bullet. The impression it’ll make on her will be more powerful than a locomotive. It costs $250, but trust me, the experience will be more thrilling than leaping tall buildings in a single bound.”
The sophomore looked at the Superman character quizzically.
“You expect me to believe that this rose with a price tag in the three digits is really worth it? Is this some kind of “super” gag to put Kryptonite into my love life?”
The George Reeves lookalike stared at Ken point blank.
“No! This is no joke. This is a rock-solid offer to help you make your Valentine Day unforgettable. What it will do for you,” he said with increasing resolve, “will change the course of the mighty rivers of love and fate. I only have one such rose, You’re just the person I want to sell it to, given your situation. This rose’s abilities will do wonders for you and her,” he said with emphasis, “if you purchase it.”
Ken couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Wait a minute? What is so special about this rose? How exactly does this rose work?”
“How this flower has so much power is a secret that’s as guarded as The Fortress of Solitude. But I advise you buy it now, before someone else does. The $250 price tag is rock-bottom. That is, as rock bottom as Metropolis Bay at its deepest!”
Ken cackled at the catchy metaphor. His misgivings began to melt away. The undergraduate still felt he was in a revival episode of The Adventures Of Superman.
“Okay, I’ll take it. I guess this is just what I need to make a Valentine’s Day statement that neither I, or Ioana, will ever forget.”
“Okay. Wait here a moment. I’ll be back.” The Superman figure walked into the Student Center Ballrooms. He reemerged a few minutes later with the vaunted red super rose. The flower was in a see-through plastic cylinder. The Valentine’s Day token of love was enveloped in floral wrapping with a tiny bottle of water at the bottom.
For some cockamamie reason, the rose’s transparent tube had a white cord along its right side. The string was taped on the top. Ken did not think much of that feature. Nevertheless, that cord would play a pivotal part in his Valentine’s Day presentation to Ioana the next day.
The Superman character placed the secured rose inside a red bag. Ken then pulled out his Chase Visa Sapphire Reserve credit card to pay for the purchase.
“Does the Montclair State Role Play club take Visa?”
“Yes,” the Superman character said. “It’s good as gold,” he said fixating at Ken, “that’s stored in a vault at the First Bank of Metropolis,” he said, making the undergraduate laugh again.
Then, the costumed performer’s countenance cinched up with seriousness.
“Just one thing, Ken. Remember the following instructions. There’s a white cord taped to the right side. First, peel away the tape, then pull the cord down and then,” he paused momentarily. “Then Wham!” he said, raising his right arm at a 45-degree angle.
“What do you mean by ‘Wham!,” Ken asked pointedly.
The costumed superhero pointed at the sophomore.
“That is an experience for you to find out, but I assure you will be super satisfied! Now will you please excuse me?” Superman said, before strutting back into the Student Center Ballrooms.
If only Ken knew the joy that his one-of-a-kind purchase was about to bring. Fortunately, he would not have to wait long to find out.
On Valentine’s Day. Ken arrived at Saxbys after wending his way through the bustling Feliciano School of Business building. He entered the packed cafe’s premises and instantly spotted Ioana. Even in a madhouse coffeehouse, the Romanian exchange student’s classiness rose above the crowd like The Palace of Parliament in Bucharest.
Fact is, there is no way a bunch of beatniks with colored hair, nose piercings and visible tattoos could dare to touch a dressy brainy dame. Ioana could readily pass for a corporate CEO. The goofballs around her would probably pass out before a corporate CEO. And even the others that wouldn’t, they still seemed like they’d pass the buck on a dime without giving their two cents. Ken knew that Ioana was a special find like a genuine 1943 copper penny. He would give real money to win her heart.
Ken approached Ioana who was standing on the light-years long line before the Saxbys counter. She turned around just as the sophomore scholar strode up. Ioana lit up with starry-eyed delight the moment she caught sight of Ken. His similar reaction rang true as he waved hello at the Kristie Allie dead ringer. Ken naturally felt the winsome woman was right up his alley. As such, he felt as ready as ever to make his heady Valentine’s Day overture.
“Ioana, I know you’re just dying to grab something to eat and drink at the café, but I have something really special for you.”
Ken then reached into his Montclair State University theme tote bag. He pulled out a transparent tube containing a red rose wrapped in green floral paper. He proudly clutched the classic symbol of love in his right hand. The sophomore’s heartbeat began racing, before declaring the words he had long desired to utter.
“Ioana, this is for you. Happy Valentine’s Day!”
The exchange student did a Danube river long double take.
“Oh! Ken!,” Ioana said gasping. “This is so nice of you! This is so thoughtful and touching!”
Hearing Ioana’s riotous reaction shook up Ken to the inner core. He nearly forgot the important directions the Superman character had told him. His sudden recollection came just as he was handing the rose to Ioana.
“Wait a minute! Wait a minute! Just one thing!”
Ken’s exclamation startled Ioana like a passing bullet train. Her eyes widened as Ken stepped back.
Ken abruptly seized the top of cord on the rose tube’s right side. He pared away the tape and yanked down the string which unleashed a captivating chain of events. In a heartbeat, ethereal harps sounded exactly like the intro of a black and white “Adventures Of Superman” episode. The fanfare of trumpet triplets began echoing all throughout Saxbys. Customers’ heads were swiveling right toward Ken and Ioana. They both stood motionless in shock, just like all the patrons and employees in the establishment.
For a split second, Ken though someone was watching an old “Adventures of Superman” episode on a tablet nearby. But he instantly dropped that thought when he realized the triumphant theme was blaring from the rose itself! Ken and Ioana watched in amazement as the crescendoing triplets climaxed in a deafening bang with a blinding rose-colored flash.
Instantly, the twosome then instantly found themselves on a lush plateau under a nearly cloudless azure-blue sky. The rolling countryside extended in all four directions. Ken gazed up at the sky and looked around. He was more non-plussed than a D minus arithmetic student. But Ioana had déjà vu all written all over her face. Ken kept on turning his head in confusion. His sense of orientation felt more disjointed than a seismic shift by Professor Pepperwinkle’s upside down machine.
“Ioana, where in the world are we?,” he said with utter wonder.
Ioana was glaring with glee, which Ken thought was strange.
“We’re in Transylvania. We’re in the center of my home country.”
“What? You mean to tell me that we are actually in Romania?”
“Da, desigur,” Ioana said in her native tongue, “I mean, yes! Of course!”
“How do you know?” Ken said, mouth agape.
“You see this scenic view around us. This picturesque place here,” she said with pride. “I’ve been here a million times. It’s not far from my hometown.”
Ken’s queasiness slowly began to give away to a nascent sense of adventure. For years, he always sought new horizons that would take him to new heights. Ioana felt on top of the world as if she had just summited Moldoveanu Peak, Romania’s highest point. And Ken had that dawning realization that his life had taken a lasting leap for the better. Eventually, Ken would come around to realizing that $250 super rose was worth every penny, and then some!
