condom dangling from the tree in my backyard like tinsel from a Christmas tree.
“I’m just putting that out there, Karen. No interference; none of my business. But Logan Williams is not the best company a fifteen-year-old malcontent could keep. I wouldn’t trust him, to be honest.”
But to my surprise, Karen brushes away my concern and vaguely promises to have a word with Jules about not sitting on my porch when I am away.
“If she really does that. Why would she, really? She has her friends in the pickers’ camp, and they sit in their vans, or round the fire. She is allowed to walk past the cabin, you know.” Karen pushes her little finger between the jaws of the pliers and pinches it.
“Of course she is. But what I have observed is much more than walking past. She seems to regard the cottage as part of the farm, while I regard it as my home. I would like to be able to decide who I invite into my home, and when—even if it’s just the porch or the garden. I’m sorry, Karen, but her disregard of the fact that the cottage is my private space is not acceptable.”
“Yes, well, I’ll, um…I’ll mention it to her, and I thank you for your understanding.”
Maybe Karen’s hormones are messing her up. Or maybe I am overreacting.
“It was in the Washington Post!” Tim splutters into the phone when I ring him later. “That woman has totally blown the whistle on us all! Where were you the past few days?”
“Busy. That woman. Lorna O’Neal? Do you mean to say that Lorna O’Neal spoke to journalists from the Post?”
“Our very own Deepthroat! ‘According to anonymous sources,’ the article said. Anonymous, not so much. Unauthorized, you betcha.”
“No, wait—then how do they know it was Lorna?”
“We were all summoned to appear before the Prez and the Prov, individually, you understand, and she admitted it! Felt she couldn’t, in all conscience, stand by while the university was doing its damnedest—my word, not hers—to sweep Hornberger’s misconduct under the rug. Of course they are, and it is sickening. Do you know that they approached Nancy, Terry, Martha, and Warren for character assessments?”
“Of Natalie, or—”
“Of Nick! No, Natalie they want to have psychologically assessed. Martha came to my office the other day and told me that the Assistant Dean of Studies had phoned her at home and suggested that she volunteer to give Nick a character reference. He assured her that the whole thing would be handled most discreetly, anonymously, of course, and she would not regret having cooperated with the college in this delicate matter.”
“And she felt she couldn’t refuse.”
“Right. Except he then read them out. Aloud. With the authors’ names and everything. Martha thinks Hornberger is a mediocre scholar who has buttressed his position at the department by his extramural connections and his bullying techniques. How can she be stupid enough to be honest! After a phone call! If this doesn’t scream, You’re being fucked here, baby, and there’ll be no paper trail for you to prove it, then what does?”
“Oh, man…”
“The other three followed their cues and produced wonderfully creative pieces of fiction. So with these glowing character references in the balance—”
“Tim, if…just supposing there was a similar case from way back, years ago. Would that make a difference to the way the hearing is going?”
“Do you mean the incident back in seventy-six? How do you know about that?”
Careful now.
“There was a woman from Hornberger’s year at the Homecoming reception. She told us. How do you know?”
If Greco vs. Hornberger is all over the papers now, Mary-Lou Tandy may hear of it and come forward to testify. If she wants to go back to that traumatic time, if it is her own decision to get involved, I will make Giles throw the file into the ring. He cannot go on protecting Hornberger.
“Natalie said. She’s full of lewd and lurid stories about Hornberger’s past, including this one, but she can’t prove any of them. Mark my words, Hornberger will end up looking like the innocent victim of a smear campaign!”
“I feel sick.”
“You feel sick! What do you think I feel! I already had my fingertips on terra firma, Tenurica, the Land of Safety, when I was pulled back into the maelstrom of university politics by an over-excited snowflake and an aging, over-sexed macho! We don’t know what our cue is, from one meeting to the next! Bernie says we should simply carve our signatures into potato halves and tell