Chapter 64: A Helping Hand, Part II

September, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

I was ready when the professor began harping on the principle of one-person, one-vote and its importance to the American system. I raised the issue of the composition of the US Senate and he immediately declared it as 'anti-democratic'. I was ready for that.

"Of course it is," I said firmly, "and it's meant to be. The same is true for the Presidency. The networks all made a big deal out of the popular vote for President when there is no such thing! In fact, there shouldn't even be a popular vote for Senators."

"Of course there's a popular vote for President!" he sneered. "I certainly voted for Jimmy Carter!"

"Actually, you didn't. You and I both know that you voted for Electors for Carter, not for Carter himself. And nothing you could do can affect how an Elector votes! All you're doing is providing an opinion. That's what the so-called 'popular' vote for President is — an opinion poll."

"Well, yes, because of the flaws in the Constitution that prevent one-person, one-vote. These are anti-democratic and the courts are fixing everything they can."

"More like breaking everything," I countered. "Our own Senator Everett Dirksen was right when he said that the Supreme Court would hand Chicago complete control of Illinois to the detriment of the rest of the state. That's what's happening now. Why should Chicago rule over the whole state?"

"Because of the principle of one-person, one vote!"

"Something that was explicitly and soundly rejected by the Founders. Look, you like pure representative democracy and believe in it. I don't. The Founders crafted a system that was purposefully anti-democratic. And they gave you a way to change it. But court rulings aren't the way. Amend the Constitution."

"But we can't because it allows a small number of people to prevent that!" he objected.

"Yes, and isn't that the point? That the majority shouldn't be able to take away the rights of the minority by a simple vote? Should our most basic rights hang in the balance with every election and every Supreme Court ruling?"

"The Supreme Court has the final say," he said. "That's how the system works."

"Oh, you mean like it did in Dred Scott and Plessy v. Ferguson?"

"They got it wrong, obviously! Nobody can support slavery or segregation!"

"And I say that they got it wrong in Reynolds v. Sims," I said, referring to the case that said states couldn't have representation by counties.

"But that was pro-democracy! It's not right for a county with 1,000 people to have the same vote as a county with 3,000,000 people!"

"The US Senate works that way. Clearly, the Constitution contemplates that such a thing is not only good, but necessary. Pure democracy is a bad idea, and the Founders agree with me. After all, the Constitution enshrines it because of the Connecticut Compromise. It's a foundational principle of the United States."

"Class, it's clear that Mr. Adams rejects democracy, which is the very basis for our system."

"Professor, I'll stick with Madison, Hamilton, Jay, Jefferson, Adams, and Franklin who felt we should have a Republic and that the Constitution balanced and separated powers."

"They could never have foreseen the issues we have today and were locked into ideas that scared them away from true democracy."

"You mean the tyranny of the majority?" a student from the back of the class said. "Professor, didn't you fight against that when you were protesting in the 60s? What's different now?"

That simple question led to a freewheeling debate in which the vast majority of the students, who tended towards being conservative or libertarian, generally agreed with the position I'd laid out. There were also a few students who agreed with the professor, but by the end of the class, it was clear what the opinion of the majority was. The final blow came from Stephie, of all people.

"Professor, if you believe in one-person, one-vote, let's take a vote in class on which position is correct. Will you agree to abide by the results?"

He was clearly fuming at that and closed his books. It was time for class to end anyway, so when he got up to leave, everyone got up as well. I decided to offer an olive branch, since the last thing I wanted was a pissed-off professor for the rest of the semester.

"Professor, do you have a moment?" I asked.

"What?" he snapped. "You derailed the lesson for today!"

"Don't you think a free discussion of the issues is a good way to learn? I know you don't agree with me, but aren't we here to hear differing opinions and discuss them? Isn't that what college is about? I'm sorry if the lesson didn't go as planned, but opinions can vary. Facts can't. I'm interested in your opinions. Are you interested in mine?"

He sighed, "I'm afraid for the future when the young people are not progressive. I fought for ideas that were important and young people are rejecting so many of them!"

"Maybe you've become the establishment," I said with a smile.

He laughed, "That's a grave insult, Mr. Adams! If I'm the establishment, I've failed miserably and become my father!"

"What did he do? " I asked.

"He was a political science professor," he said with a wan smile. "I probably should be teaching at Berkeley, not at an engineering school in the Midwest."

"No, you're in the right place, professor. Your teaching has forced me to think about things and validate my own ideas. I don't agree with you, but I'll listen."

He nodded, "Every semester it seems that there's one guy like you who refuses just to sit in class and listen to a lecture. That's a good thing, even if you annoy the hell out of me. See you on Monday."

He walked out of the room and Stephie came over to me.

"Damn, Steve. You turned that around 180 degrees. He was fit to be tied when I asked my question."

"You, my dear Stephie," I chuckled, "are a bitch! That question was about as catty as anything I've ever heard you say!"

"It was, wasn't it?" she said with a huge smile.

"I can't believe you argued with a professor!" Jorge said, coming from the back of the class where he'd been waiting.

"Jorge, Steve will argue with anyone. He's had lots of practice, too. On Sundays for the last six months or so, we've had these huge philosophical discussions that he's organized. It's funny, because it's probably pretty much like the Rap Sessions that our hippie professor had back in his day in the late 60s. It's changed though. Instead of most of them being for McGovern, most of us were for Reagan — polar opposites. The tables turned on him and he's not a happy camper. Students aren't burning draft cards; they're joining ROTC. Patriotism is making a huge comeback. Capitalism is on an upswing. All the stuff he hated."

"But still, he controls our grades!" Jorge protested. "What if he gives us all bad grades? I already have enough trouble with calculus as well as chemistry and computers!"

"I don't think he will," I said. "That's why I talked to him afterwards. He'll be hard on me because I started it, and that's fine; I can take it. And I think Stephie can as well, if it comes to that. The rest of you? He won't do anything at all to you. I'm sure of it. Watch on Monday. He'll be prepared to debate me and he'll try to find any weakness in my arguments. And that's a good thing, because as I told him, it helps me clarify things for myself."

"You are very strange, Steve," Jorge said.

"Welcome to the club," Stephie said. "Once you figure that out, you're in!"

That evening, Bethany arrived about 6:00pm and Carla showed up a few minutes afterwards. They joined us for dinner and when we finished eating, the three of us went to the Indian room to hang out for a bit. We talked for about fifteen minutes and then Bethany asked Carla to take a walk with her. It was still about 90°F outside at 7:30pm, so I was glad they didn't invite me to go along.

I went to see what others were doing and, except for Stephie, everyone had gone out. I asked if she wanted to hang out, and she agreed. We got Cokes and went to hang out in the sunroom, listen to music and talk. She told me that she was talking to Red pretty much every day, even if it was just a quick call to say hello. She was really looking forward to going home for Thanksgiving. She asked how things had gone in DC and I told her what had happened with Tatyana and how we'd left things.

"That was always going to be a challenge, Steve. I told you that a long time ago. As you said, it's similar to you and Katt — there was just no way to move forward and have you both be happy."

"Or you and me, Stephie?" I asked.

She sighed, "True, but in our case, we COULD have found a compromise if it had come to that. We chose not to 'cause you belong with Jennifer and I belong with Red. That's the difference. For us, it was possible, and, if something were to seriously change, it would be possible again. But why compromise when you don't have to?"

"A very good point. I guess it never felt like compromising with you because things just worked so well and we were so compatible."

"And that was probably true until I finished school. Then, well, who knows? Not to mention the whole group relationship thing that was kind of hanging over our heads. Are you happy, Steve?"

"I think I am. I miss you being in my bed, but otherwise, nothing has really changed, other than we don't use our pet names for each other. You're still here, we still go to class together, still spend some time together. Hopefully, you'll invite me to Dawsonville next Summer."

"I will. And you and Emily can screw each other silly if you want!" she giggled.

"Well, I do owe her for the race tickets and pit passes, so it would be bad form not to!"

"Steve, do me a favor?" Stephie said with an evil grin.

"What's that?"

"Give her the FULL treatment, just like that first night we had together! You'll blow her mind!"

"We'll see!" I laughed. "How do you want to handle this thing with Jorge tomorrow?"

"He's real skittish, so maybe you work with him on his computer assignment first, then pass him to me for calculus. I think you should probably hang around where we're working because he seems so nervous around girls. And you probably want to warn Cindi because she's pretty over-the-top and might scare him away."

"There are times when Cindi scares ME!" I chuckled.

"Only when she talks about her last fling, but oh my God, are you going to get the fucking of your life from that girl when it happens!"

"So she says. We'll see. That's a long way off."

Stephie and I talked for another twenty minutes or so, and then I heard the front door open and assumed it was Bethany. I called out and let her know that we were in the sunroom. She walked in alone.

"Where's Carla?" I asked.

"I walked her home. We were close to her place, anyway. Stephie, can I steal him away for a bit?" Bethany asked.

"Yep. I got no claim on him now. He's all yours!" Stephie declared with a wink.

"I wish! But Jennifer has most of his heart. Not all of it, but most. How about a sauna, Steve?"

I nodded, and we went down to the basement. I warned her that it was possible, though unlikely, that Eduardo or Dave could show up, but she said that was OK and if she felt uncomfortable, she'd wrap a towel around herself. We sat in the steam for several minutes before she started talking about Carla.

"That girl is really conflicted," Bethany said.

"I got that idea."

"Before I say anything else, are you involved with her in any way? I mean, other than friends?"

"No. I backed off completely. We kissed like maybe three times, and just 'good night' kisses at the end of a date like you would in Junior High."

"Good. She probably needs to see someone like Doctor Mercer. I suggested it, but I'm not sure if she'll do it. What happened has her scared of sex. Her conflict is that she has hormones like the rest of us, but the minute she thinks it could progress beyond a kiss, she kind of freaks out. That's why she flirts one minute and says 'stop' the next minute. The sauna thing, can you tell me your side?"

"A misunderstanding. She flirted, and I joked about it when Dustin, the photographer she works for, was here. Because she didn't freak out about stripping down to her underwear, I figured she was cool. She invited herself over and I realized that we'd mis-communicated — she thought I meant naked under the towels when I meant like we're sitting here now. So we wore towels. One thing led to another and that's when she dared me to drop my towel.

"I should have realized right then what was going on, but I missed the clues, so I stood up and dropped my towel. Her expression told me that I'd made a very bad misjudgment and I quickly covered up. I guess that was the first time she'd ever seen a guy naked. I totally put the brakes on and then we tried again, going to the movies. She gave me the whole stop and go bit and I got on her case about it. Not that she shouldn't set limits, but about what could be understood as being a prick-tease. I told her to get her act together and came home.

"We tried one last time, and she pulled the same stuff, even though we'd talked about it. She cooked for me and everything seemed OK until I said something to her about ice cream on her chin and she barked at me. I told her I was done, read her the Riot Act for being nasty about it, then told her I was going home because she was so immature. She stopped me, and then she told me about her Prom date, and how he'd tried to force himself on her. That attempted rape happened about five years ago."

"And she has never, ever dealt with it," Bethany said. "In fact, you're the first person she even told about it. That's pretty amazing, really, but then again, I remember a scared little girl who'd been raped who thought you were safe enough to go to a dance with and tell about her problems."

"Me too!" I said, putting my hand on hers. "And that seems to have worked out well for both of us in the long run."

"It has. You still make me feel safe, Steve. I can be who I want to be, do what I want to do, and you'll always be there to protect me, even if you're 150 miles away. I think that's what all the girls feel. It's why you have such an easy time getting them into bed! Despite being a sex-maniac, you're the safest fuck on the planet. Well, so long as a girl doesn't mind being fucked unconscious!"

I chuckled, "Cute, Bethany. We can take care of THAT later. What about Carla?"

"She needs professional help, as I said. I don't live close enough, even if I wanted to help. I mean, I do, but I can't. I'm just in my third year of school. I have a LONG way to go before I can even think about doing something like that for someone, though obviously I'll do my best to help my friends, off the record, so to speak. Until she gets help, don't put yourself in a position where anything can happen. If you thought Annie was a disaster, this would make that look like a walk in the park. Be her friend, but nothing more. Encourage her to get some help."

"Good advice, as always, Sweetheart. Was there anything special you wanted to do this weekend? I mean, besides sleeping in my bed?"

"I'm doing it. I'm with you. That's what I need."

"How are things with Bob?" I asked.

"Eh, OK, I guess. He's someone who can be a friend, but our make-out sessions have left me cold."