Hadrian's Rage (9 page)

“No!” Cantara is adamant. “Politis didn’t out you, and she wouldn’t want you outing yourself.”

Sid reaches over and holds Tara in his arms. She is crying and refuses to listen to reason. “Cantara is right.” Dean nods in agreement.

Tara starts ripping at her hair in agitation. “It’s my fault, people. They’re going to fire her!”

Dean and Cantara join in on Sid’s embrace of a frantic Tara. “You can’t beat yourself up over this.” Cantara, too, is crying. The group sways slowly as they attempt a collective soothing caress. It is not working.

“Why did I ever write that piece? Why did I let her read it? I thought I was only putting myself at risk. I had no idea they’d can her for it.”

“She’s been suspended,” Dean reminds her. “She hasn’t been fired.”

“But they’re talking about it.” Had she not been tightly wrapped between three bodies, Tara would have run from the room and found herself a straight-edge; all she wants to do right now is cause herself pain as some form of ameliorating penance. Self-harm is a sad condition suffered by many in the bi-strai community. For Dean, it was punching himself in the legs. For Tara, it is cutting.

Cantara knows what Tara is thinking. “You don’t want to cut yourself, girl.” Tara’s forearms and wrists are covered with scars and archaeol inscriptions—obscene reminders of past episodes and suicide attempts.

“It’s my fault,” Tara sobs. “Why was I so cocky? Who the fuck do I think I am?” Tears now streaking her makeup, Tara looks into Cantara’s eyes. “They’re going to fire her, and it’s all my fault.”

“Listen,” Sid attempts to reason with her. “She’s been suspended, but they won’t fire her. She’s tenured.”

“They said—they said—” Tara hiccups between gasps.

“It doesn’t matter what they said,” Dean whispers.

“What did they say?” Prasert asks as he enters the room. He is still in the dark about the catastrophe that has shattered Tara’s life. Seeing the scene before him sends shivers up his spine. “Hadrian’s Lover,” he cries, “what’s happened?”

Sid answers. “The Dean has suspended Dr. Politis for reading Tara’s essay out loud in class.” Tara moans. Cantara and Dean soothingly coo to calm her. Sid continues, “Some students complained.”

“Higgins and Godoy, no doubt.” Prasert is angry. “Those fucking bitches, such bigots.”

“Angel and Grace are my friends,” Tara shrieks. “They wouldn’t turn on me.”

“Didn’t you hear what Angel said in class when Politis was reading your paper?”

“She didn’t know it was me; she didn’t know it was me.” Tara is almost spastic in her defense of her friend. Angel, Grace, Sid, Prasert, and she had formed a study group for Sociology 100. Tara is convinced that their bigotry is simply what they were raised with, and all they know, but with subtle hints and the right kind of prodding, she can bring these two around to accepting heterosexuals. At the very least, she believes they are capable of tolerance.

Sid silences Prasert with an angry glance. Of the five, Prasert is the least susceptible to emotional turmoil. He prefers to look at everything with unveiled, pragmatic logic. The last thing Tara needs right now is realism. She needs love, support, and yes, to have her friends help her put rose-colored glasses back on. Prasert concedes to this need. Sid has argued with him over this point, and this is a moment when he decides Sid is probably right.

“Well, we don’t know who complained. Their names are a guarded secret.” Sarcasm drips off Sid’s tongue. “But they don’t want Tara’s name to be a secret—”

Shrieking in agony, Tara says, “I have to tell. I have to turn myself in or they’ll fire her.”

Sid, Dean, and Cantara respond in chorus, “Absolutely not!” Their voices now overlapping, they continue, “Politis wouldn’t want it.” “She’s protecting you.” “They’re not going to fire her!”

“Please, Tara,” Cantara begs. “They are trying to expose you. Don’t let them win.”

“Cantara’s right.” Prasert’s voice is soothing. “You have to wait this out.” Prasert joins in on the group hug. “I agree with Sid. They’re not going to fire her.” The other three utter their agreement. Although they are all in doubt of the veracity of this declaration, each one knows how critical it is to convince Tara in order to keep her from harming herself. Softly, slowly, five bodies sway insecurely, desperately feigning confidence.

Finally, Sid breaks their silence. “Sweetie, don’t think me cruel, but you have to let this incident go, put it aside. We have finals. We all have to study.”

Unable to bear her own pain and needing to lash out at someone, Tara yells, “Go! Go! All of you! Leave me alone.” She struggles to break free of the group. Sensing imminent danger, her four friends almost crush her inside their collective, supportive grasp.

“That’s not what I meant, sweetie.” Sid is now kicking himself inside for bringing up what everyone must surely be thinking:
Finals wait for no one.

“Hey, Tara.” Cantara pulls her friend out of the collective and hugs her tighter. “He didn’t mean it that way.” She pulls back just enough to look into Tara’s eyes but to retain a solid grip on the girl. “And you know he’s right. We all have finals.” Sensing Tara is about to explode again, Cantara cuts her off. “I’ve got an idea. Let’s let the guys go and you and I have a voc conference with your mama.”

Tara shivers. “They don’t want to talk to me.”

“Your mom is the unreasonable one. You know Mama Cecilia still cares. She vocs me all the time to ask how you’re doing.” When Tara flashes an accusing glance Cantara’s way, she defends herself. “You know that. I’ve told you every time.”

“And I told you not to voc them.”

“I don’t. Your mama vocs me.” Shaking her head at what she knows Tara is going to say, Cantara continues, “I refuse to be rude and ignore her. Besides, I really think she is attempting, you know, really trying to come around.”

Tara gulps, “You think?”

Cantara smiles. “Yeah, I think.” Sensing Tara no longer wants to bolt or harm herself, Cantara relaxes her grip. “So,” she adds, now nodding in the direction of the three men, “how’s about we let the boys leave, let them do some studying, and you and I voc Mama Cecilia?” When Tara first came out to her mothers, both women were shocked. Her mother
took it hardest off all, refusing to believe that someone with her genes had “strai blood.” Her first method of retaliation was to kick Tara out of the house. Her next move was to cut off her financing of Tara’s voc. When she tried to close Tara’s credit account, rendering her thumbprint (the means by which individuals transact business in Hadrian) null, she was stymied. Once a youth begins any form of employment and begins depositing his or her own money into the account, the parent no longer has complete legal control over it. All Tara’s mother could do at that point was to cease depositing credits into Tara’s account. Since Tara has a part-time job, her employer continues to deposit her earnings into her account, keeping it open. Tara may not have much in terms of spending money, but she is managing to stay in uni. “So what do you say?” Cantara asks, trying to be jocular for Tara’s sake. “Shall we voc up Mama Cecilia?”

Still shivering, Tara nods, “Okay.”

Cantara gives the boys leave. “You guys go. I’ll take care of her. I promise.”

“Are you sure it’s okay, sweetie?” Sid is still feeling the sting of guilt. “We’ll all gladly stay if you need us.”

Dean and Prasert chime in, “Of course we’ll stay.”

“No,” Tara smiles weakly. “It’s all right. Cantara’s right. If Mama Cecilia—if she—” The hope combined with the fear of rejection is too much for Tara to bear.

“She will. I know she will,” Cantara says with more confidence than she truly feels.

Tara begins nodding successively. “Mama’s what I need. Connect me, please.”

The three men take this as their cue to leave. After their hugs and goodbyes, Dean asks Tara to be sure to let them know how the call with her mama goes. She promises as they repeat their final goodbyes.

Hello, fans and viewers. Thank you so much for embracing me as your new host for
Salve!
I was thrilled to read so many positive comments in favor of the change. John Dunson commented, “What a delight to have such a handsome face reporting the news.” Thank you, John. Imran Kumar said I was refreshing and “far more relaxed than” our previous host. Adnan Shakiri’s comment made my day: “Danny, I loved you as Antinous, and I LOVE you as the new face of Hadrian. In
Hadrian’s Lover,
you made me cry. As the new host of
Salve!
, you make me laugh.” Thank you, thank you, thank you all, so very, very much. I wish we had time to read all your wonderful comments but, as you know, we must get on with the meat of the show.

Earlier this week, Dr. Cora Politis, a tenured professor of Augustus Uni, was unceremoniously suspended from her duties as an instructor of sociology. The president of the uni, Archibald Hoffstetter, and the chair of the sociology department, Dardana Jashari, are deliberating whether or not to terminate the tenured professor from her post. She was suspended from duty shortly after she read a student’s paper out loud to her Sociology 100 class. Apparently, this student wrote about what it feels like to grow up strai in Hadrian. The essay was handwritten on paper—an atrocious waste. When requested, Professor Politis refused to hand over the student paper, which contains the young woman’s name, as she does not wish her student to suffer any negative consequences or ramifications. Of course, the writer should suffer negative ramifications if for nothing other than abuse of the environment. The professor needn’t worry that this particular student would be expelled as she herself said this was that student’s first and
only abuse of the environment. As we all know, Hadrian’s environmental laws work on the baseball principle of three strikes and you’re out! Even so, Politis claims to have shredded the document. Apparently, she chose to omit the student’s name during her in-class read to maintain the writer’s anonymity. Professor Politis claims the student’s name must be protected against the anti-strai sentiments running high at Augustus and, apparently, throughout Hadrian. This, of course, all stems from the legalization of heterosexuality and this particular uni having opened its doors to openly strai and bisexual students.

You bisexuals…excuse my sneer, but please…all you do is confuse everyone with your hurtful ways of playing both sides of the field. Pick a side already and stick with it—and if you have any sense inside your heads, you will make sure that side is with the same sex! Sorry, people, but bisexual behavior is one of my pet peeves. I knew a bi once—he left me for a lady! I so wanted to expose him, but it was his word against mine, and I had no evidence except what he had said to me. I should have voc recorded it. Those were the days when he would have been exiled! But today, his actions are technically legal.

Oh, dear. You see me tapping my ear because the production manager is directing me to get back on track, given I have digressed too much.

Currently, the president of Augustus Uni and the chair of the sociology department are deliberating whether to terminate Professor Politis’s contract. Politis was suspended after an outpouring of complaints from her Sociology 100 students as well as letters from concerned citizens about Augustus Uni educating its students with strai propaganda. Both the uni president and a coalition of fifty students from Sociology 100 have laid charges against the professor. If she is found guilty of presenting strai propaganda, Professor Politis’s sentence will be that of banishment. Of course, the nation will provide her with Black Henbane to drink if suicide is her preference.

Faial Raboud is Professor Politis’s defense attorney. Ms. Raboud is famous for having convinced Judge Julia Reznikoff to revert Frank Hunter’s exile to that of a lifetime of military service. For those who may not remember, Frank Hunter was found guilty of murder. He had suffocated his lover, Todd Middleton, who was a confirmed heterosexual. Ms. Raboud’s line of defense for Professor Politis is based on the reasoning that the Anti-Strai Propaganda Law only prohibits the sharing of heterosexual
information to youth under the age of twenty-one. “As all of Professor Politis’s Sociology 100 students are age twenty-two and older,” Raboud said, “she cannot be convicted under this new law.” Well, that was rather redundant of her. Of course, we all know that most uni students are twenty-two or older. Everyone had to serve in the military for four years before heading off to college, but that’s not the crucial point! Hadrian’s Federal Prosecutor, Graham Sabine, correctly points out that every uni in Hadrian offers two special scholarship awards to high school graduates. These lucky recipients do not serve at the Wall like the rest of us. And, as Prosecutor Sabine rightly adds, all high school graduates are under twenty-one, some as young as seventeen; there are always at least seven or eight students on any given campus under age. Any dissimilation of intelligence in a first year uni course is then likely to make its way into the ears of these youth. Currently, there are no scholarship students under twenty-one attending Augustus Uni. Although the campus offers scholarships, no one has applied for one since 6-13. Regardless, it is important to note that there is a seventeen-year-old scholarship winner, Roger Hunter, attending Antinous Uni. Sabine’s argument is that no uni professor be allowed to instruct students regarding heterosexual behaviors in order to protect Hadrian’s youth.

Well, Hadrian, what do you think? Should Professor Politis have been suspended? Should the uni dismiss her? Should she be held accountable under Hadrian’s new Anti-Strai Propaganda Law? Voc us your views at
HNN#RE-AUP-ASL
.

Vale!