Compliments (17 page)

XXIII

“Please state your name and your affiliation with the university,” says the man in the gray suit and yellow tie. Prof. DeWitt is one of three similarly-dressed clones sitting at the head of a lengthy conference table. Sophia, Hawk, Prof. Woo, Prof. Ferris, and I sit on the side by the door, while Harrison and a man I assume is his lawyer sit on the other. At the far end, Betsy focuses on her perfectly manicured nails.

“Elizabeth Camila Wade, second year master’s student in the department of Mathematics.”

The suits scratch a few notes, just like they did as Sophia and I took turns telling our stories, while Harrison kept his glare set on stun and pointed at Hawk. My guy, however, didn’t flinch. He gave him the bad eye back in spades.

“Miss Wade,” the suit on the right hand of the committee chair starts, “we’ve asked you to appear today because Mr. Stephens says that you were a witness to the events we’re talking about here today.”

“If you mean when Harrison was an ass to these two ladies, I’m sorry, no,” she says in her standardized sarcastic tone. “However, if you mean when he threw the punch at Harrison, then yes.”

“Objection, Prof. DeWitt.” Harrison’s consul pinches the rim of his glasses and rips them off in a dramatic huff, like he’s auditioning for a role on
Law & Order
. “The confrontation in question occurred in Prof. Harrison’s office with the door closed. There’s no way anyone could have been an eye witness without the two of them knowing.”

“Oh, the
two
of them didn’t know,” Betsy says. “At least, Hawk didn’t know until last week.”

The third committeeman leans forward, folding his hands and placing them on the table. “Mr. Reeds, I’ll remind you again this is not a court of law. You don’t need to object to anything; just politely state your counterargument. Miss Wade, could you clarify what you mean? How is it that in a relatively small office, one party was aware you were there and the other was not?”

Betsy’s fingers fan across her biceps, her arms folded and her eyes chasing a distant shadow on the ceiling. “I don’t know how to say this diplomatically. I was,” she clears her throat before raising her hands and signaling finger quotes, “servicing him.”

In a flash, all three of the committee members’ faces flush, which just makes Betsy all the more annoyed. She rolls her eyes when one of them leans forward and asks, “For clarity, can you state with preciseness what you mean by that.”

“What would you prefer? Do you want me to say that I was performing fellatio, or that my mouth was occupied by Harrison’s d—”

“Fellatio,” Prof. DeWitt interjects, his voice breaking, “describes it just fine. And how is it that Mr. Stephens wasn’t aware that you were present, being that you were involved in such an,” he coughs away his awkwardness, “intense and intimate act?”

“Harrison was sitting in his chair and I was on my knees, already sort of halfway under his desk. You know, where your legs usually go? When he heard the footsteps outside of his door, he pushed me under the desk and zipped up.”

Harrison speaks for the first time since I’ve been in the room, and I find myself amazed at how he can make his voice absent of all deception. “This is a bunch of baloney. My only interaction with Elizabeth Wade was when she was a student in my course last spring.”

“And I got an A in that course,” says Betsy. “Which is a pretty good showing for someone who didn’t turn in any homework and got a B on the final.”

I see Sophia’s lips move and swear I hear something resembling “classroom participation,” but polite company lets it go.

The second suit takes up the next question. “If this is true, why didn’t you report it?”

Betsy blinks thrice. “Who ever said I was an unwilling participant? I’ve never been one to argue against a good quid pro quo arrangement when it comes to me with a pretty little bow.”

“And what was his quo for your quid?” Prof. DeWitt asks, chewing each syllable.

She shrugs so dismissively, I can hardly believe this is the same geek freak who I saw go bananas because she said the garbage can in our office wasn’t at the same angle as when she’d left the night before.

“Let’s just say, I got into a little trouble in his class. Most of my theory classes are no problem, but for some reason I just couldn’t follow his lectures too well. When I only got a B- on my first quiz, I stopped by after office hours to see if he could help me. He offered to raise something of mine, if I raised something of his.”

All three committee members seem stuck somewhere between disbelief and total shock. The least talkative of the three turns to the side of the table opposite us.

“Prof. Harrison, do you have any comment?”

Red and enraged, Harrison’s words burst out of his mouth. “I most certainly do, I never—”

Suddenly, he’s cut short by his attorney, who squeezes his wrist and gives him a warning glare. “My client doesn’t deny a sexual relationship with Miss Wade.”

“I don’t?” asks Harrison, perplexed.

“No, you don’t.” His lawyer sounds like a mother educating her son. “There was not, however, a quid pro quo of any sort. The relationship was completely consensual, just as it was with Miss Blake.”

Understanding lifts Harrison’s eyebrows as the crimson drains from his face. “Precisely. Also, Betsy was there when the event with Hawk happened and can attest to his attack on me. How …
fortunate
for me that you asked her to give a statement at this hearing.”

For the first time since I came into the room, Prof. Ferris joins the conversation. “Peter, is there a single female student you haven’t tried to seduce?”

Harrison doesn’t flinch. “Jealous, Joanna? You had your chance once.”

She pulls back in her chair, her expression tight and her words crisp, “Oh, I’ll get my chance in the way that really counts sometime soon.”

Harrison’s lawyer snaps to attention at that comment. “You see, gentlemen.” He directs his statements to the committee members. “As I told you, this whole thing has come about because Joanna Ferris harbors a personal vendetta against my client. She’s clearly gone through a great deal of trouble to get all three of these women here in an attempt to defame Prof. Harrison.”

I’m not sure how or why Betsy was swept into this hearing, but I find myself suddenly picturing booby trapping her desk or rubbing poison oak all over her keyboard the next time I’m in the office.

“Can’t say as I like how this is all coming together, but let’s just stay focused on the matter that we’re actually here to adjudicate.” DeWitt clears his throat. “This hearing is being held because Prof. Harrison claims he was attacked in an unprovoked manner by Hawk Stephens. The nature of his relationship—or as it’s turning out,
relationships—
with consenting adults isn’t our concern, even if they were students. That’s a different discussion for a different day, and one I sincerely believe should take place, but that’s the prerogative of his department to pursue. This committee’s duties are only to decide if Hawk Stephens undertook actions that merit his expulsion from the university. If Mr. Stephens did indeed physically attack Prof. Harrison for any reason other than self-defense, or in the defense of another under immediate physical threat, such an offense under our code of conduct would merit such action.”

All of the oxygen in the room condense into a pinpoint as Prof. DeWitt asks, “Miss Wade, can you confirm that Hawk Stephens struck Prof. Harrison?”

I feel my stomach double over, and under the table, my hand instinctively finds Hawk’s. When he returns a gentle squeeze, I look at him, and to my surprise, he passes me a wink.

‘What?’ I mouth.

He doesn’t give a direct answer, but makes a sedate jerk of his chin in Betsy’s direction.

Betsy steeples her hands and leans her chin into them. Her smile slithers into a grin. Locking her gaze dead on Harrison, she states a long, drawn out, “
Nnnnnoooo
.”

Prof. DeWitt and Harrison blink rapidly, but it’s the former who follows up with, “I’m sorry. Do you mean to say you can’t confirm it? That you didn’t in fact
see
, but only
heard
the event transpire?”

“Oh no, Dr. DeWitt, I’m very certain I did see the event transpire. I was peeking around the side of the desk on my hands and knees when the yelling started. They were both too busy trying to vocalize in so many words the lengths of their genitalia to notice me. And I’m telling you, they barked and they bawled, but Hawk
never
hit Harrison. Oh, looked like he wanted to, but all he did was pick up a stapler off the desk and throw it against the wall.”

“You lying bitc—” Harrison bites his words as everyone’s eyes flash to him. “You’re lying,” he amends. “Hawk hit me square on the jaw, and you know it. Robin, I even told you about it, remember?” His eyes turn to me, begging me to back him up. “That day I offered you the job to proof and research for the conference, I laid out what had happened between Hawk and me.”

I feel my cheeks heat as the committee’s heads whip in my direction. Is he really doing this? Is he daring to ask me of all people to rise to his defense? Hawk’s grip tightens around mine, and I feel his confidence fill me. I straighten in my chair.

“I don’t remember that coming up,” I say. “And I can’t possibly think why you would need to discuss anything having to do with Hawk with me back then.”

“Because I wanted to make sure you hadn’t found out about me!” he stumbles. His face scrunches up as he realizes what he’s said. “That is, because I was afraid you wouldn’t want to work with me if you believed the rumors that were going around.”

“I thought we had signed an agreement
not
to discuss the details of this case until the hearing,” Hawk says. “That was actually your request, was it not? Because you were afraid that your students would find out the details that led up to our confrontation, and not feel safe in your class, you’d said. But if you demanded it, why would you discuss it with someone and have possibly that opposite effect?” Hawk’s rhetorical tone turns quixotic at the end. “I’m just speculating here, but it’s like you wanted to shield her from the truth by taking control of it and twisting it around for your own benefit.”

“I didn’t!” Harrison’s hands flatten on the table. Even his own counsel is speechless as he turns his own words back on himself. “You heard what Robin just said, I never told her.”

“But,” Hawk points a finger and a confused grimace at Harrison, “you just said you did, and asked her to confirm it. Which one is it?”

The pounding fist brings everyone’s attention back to the head of the table. A smokestack of frustration, Prof. DeWitt demands silence.

“Enough of this. Let’s make an end of this debacle, shall we?” He passes a look at his two fellow committee members, who nod in agreement. “In summary: Prof. Peter Harrison claimed that student Hawk Stephens struck him and threatened him with further physical violence. Mr. Stephens has never admitted to the event, though admits that he did confront Prof. Harrison about his involvement with Miss Blake, an involvement Miss Blake today admits to. Miss Wade, whom it seems was present during the event in question, as admitted to by Prof. Harrison, backs up Mr. Stephens’s version of events. In addition, Prof. Harrison, in the course of this half hour, has admitted to carrying on relationships with two of his students and been accused by the third of attacking
her
while at a recent conference. Now, unless anyone else wants to add to this melee …”

His eyes survey the room. Only silent, shaking heads respond.

“As there is no evidence supporting Prof. Harrison, and more than a few testimonies against him,” Prof. DeWitt continues, “we can only conclude that there is no basis for Mr. Stephens’s continued suspension from his program, and no ground upon which to expel him from the university. On the other hand, there seems generous evidence to suggest that Prof. Harrison himself has violated several university policies. It isn’t within the purview of this review committee to evaluate those aspects of his conduct. Therefore, Prof. Woo, we would strongly encourage you as chair of your department to launch an investigation.”

“That will be unnecessary.”

Prof. Woo’s announcement makes Prof. Ferris’s eyes go wide.

He continues, “Prof. Harrison resigned his position effective the end of this quarter this morning. He’ll be leaving our department at the end of the month.”

“Leaving?” Ferris queries. “To where?”

“Industry,” Harrison replies. “I’ve been offered a rather well-compensated position with Baker-Jones-Olson in Boston.”

Sophia leans in and whispers in my ear, “Believe me, that’s the only well-compensated thing about him.”

“Like I said, Joanna,” Harrison continues, “must be quite frustrating to have missed your chance.”

She crosses her arms and grins. “Oh, I believe in karma, Peter. I’m not frustrated at all.”

A few minutes later, under Hawk’s arm, we thank Sophia and Prof. Ferris for their support. I’m not really sure that Hawk’s won his case as much as he didn’t lose. I tell myself just to be happy it’s over, and take comfort in the fact that he’ll be able to finish his degree now.

We’re just about to leave the building when I catch sight of Betsy making her way to us across the lobby.

She stretches her hand out to Hawk. “Guess you got my message then?”

“You’re lucky I came into work Thursday night, but yeah, I got it,” he says, shaking her hand. “Thanks.”

I look at them both in confusion. “Message?”

“Yeah,” Betsy answers. “A message in a bottle. Or more precisely, a garbage can.”