CHAPTER 12
KIT WALKER DAYSpring is beautiful almost everywhere. This spring was especially beautiful for Kit. His senior year, his last spring at Harrison. It was the time for spring dances, for young lovers to walk hand in hand in the shaded campus groves. Diana, still at girls' school in the east, came to Harrison several times to see Kit. Now almost eighteen, her early promise of beauty was fulfilled. She had grown into a magnificent young woman with hair like a black cloud. And she loved this young hero of Harrison. And Kit loved Diana. She still had four years of college ahead of her, but when she spoke lightly of the future, as a girl in love might, Kit became troubled and avoided the subject.
As the son of the Phantom, he could make no normal plans for the future. Sometimes he daydreamed about it. Diana in the Skull Cave-that seemed impossible, this girl from a rich family, beautiful clothes, private schools, European vacations, devoted to opera, concerts, theater, and achieving a place for herself in this world of athletics as an Olympic diver-Diana in the Skull Cave? Not only impossible. Ridiculous. So he never told her about the Cave, only the jungle. His reticence troubled her, but she trusted him. He must have a good reason.
But the spring was bringing more than graduation and proms to Kit. The huge stadium that had been built near the campus, largely through the prominence he had brought to Harrison, was now completed. And the university and students announced plans to honor their All-American star with a special "Kit Walker Day" in the new structure. Among the invited guests would be the state's senators and congressmen; twelve high-school marching bands; assorted mayors, judges, and other dignitaries; and fifty thousand friends and relatives. The great day came a week before final examinations began and would be the climax of his four-year career at Harrison. Diana came from the East, Aunt Bessie, Uncle Ephraim and a contingent of friends came from Clarksville; old classmates from Clark came, including Jackson; everybody who had met or known this extraordinary boy from the jungles of Bangalla came, even the Champ, with his retinue, to honor the "college kid" who had knocked him out.
By now, Uncle Ephraim was as proud of Kit as if he had been his own son. And Diana had stars in her eyes. It seemed the whole world loved her hero. What would happen after this month remained vague to Kit. He put it all out of his mind. Diana was with him, and that was all that mattered. Not quite all. Naturally, "Kit Walker Day" excited and pleased him, once it became a reality. He had tried to call off the event, but his pleas were ignored. Harrison U., no longer tiny, was determined to honor her favorite son.
The night before the big day, Kit was at the senior prom with Diana who floated like a dream in white chiffon across the polished dance floor-this was in the big gym, now decorated with flowers and streamers, where Kit had fought the heavyweight champion. That day had been tremendous. The small town was filled with strangers; hotels had to turn away people; private homes took them in. People slept in their cars, in buses, or on the grass. There was no room in the small town for the crowds that had come to honor Kit Walker.
After dinner with Diana, Bessie and Ephraim at the hotel, and the prom with Diana, which aunt and uncle attended as spectators, he bade them all good-night. There was a big day ahead for him. He walked Diana along the quiet campus walk to the women's dormitory, kissed her good-night-not once but many times-and raced back to his room, his head filled with her delicate perfume. Then he Sat and stared at the walls. A panorama of the years sped through his mind. The ship, Clark, Harrison, Diana. What now?
There was a sound at his second-floor window. Then another. He shook himself out of his reverie and went toward the window. Someone was throwing pebbles lightly against the glass. A fellow student? A fan? He looked out to the shadowy lawn below. A small figure was looking up at him. A child? No. A black man in a suit that was ridiculously large for him-hanging over his hands and shoes. Guran of the pygmy poison people.
