Chapter 4: Unsatisfactory Solutions

Carolyn Pierce heard Paul shout, “Babysitter.” Johnny shouted something, and they both ran into the living room to see. Why they thought their parents would leave them without any warning, she couldn’t see. They never had since the kids knew enough English to understand the warnings. Anyway, Tuesdays were special, and kindergarten students should know it was Tuesday.

“Don’t open the door,” she called. She finished stirring the stew, turned the fire a little lower, rinsed off her hands, and answered the door. It was Candy. If Candy had blown her off, it wouldn’t have greatly surprised her, but, apparently, she had decided to see this thing through. She was even a little early. The weather was responsible for a little of her hang-dog look, but Carolyn would bet not much of it.

“I’m sorry,” Candy said. “Three ELs and a bus. I couldn’t judge the time.”

“Quite all right. Tell me your last name again.”

“Wharton.” That’s what the kids would call her. Anyway, those were now running around imitating a tornado.

“Freeze!” The boys froze but glared at poor Candy. “This is Miss Wharton. And, no, she’s not a babysitter. Mama’s going to be home all night. That one is Johnny. That one is Paul.” She indicated which. “They may now move, but only one foot at a time.

“Give me your coat,” she finished. Candy greeted the boys before doing so, which showed good manners. She even got the names right.

“You’re not a babysitter?” Johnny asked.

“No. I’m not.”

“For which she can thank God.” The boys were both going through a possessive streak, odd for guys who spent half the day at kindergarten. They tended to take out their frustration on those left home with them. She went through babysitters fairly rapidly. Maybe they should offer combat pay. “She’s an economics student in college. Why don’t you show her your books while I get dinner ready?” Candy seemed to be wise in kids’ ways, and Bill would be home any time now. He drove these days, which made his schedule less predictable. Anyway, she had a meal to get to the table. It was time to boil the peas.

While she was doing that, she heard Bill come home. Soon, the boys were screaming again. She hoped Candy wouldn’t take away the impression that the Pierce family was utterly uncivilized -- not that this would be too inaccurate an impression. Then she heard the bell again, and what must have been Eric coming in.

The dinner conversation was mostly about the kids. Eric was fond of them, and Candy must have been grateful for any subject other than the one for after dinner. Bill got up at the end of the meal and kissed his family goodbye. He licked her lips and patted her butt during their kiss. In front of the kids was bad enough, doing it in front of her student was totally improper. Bill had timed his exit, though, before the kids had finished their second brownies. They stayed at table while he left the house. When she got up, Eric and Candy did too. The boys wiped a finger each over their plates and licked that finger. Then they got up, too. When she began to clear the table, Candy picked up some dishes.

“You don’t have to...” She said. Candy might have been a student, but she was a guest.

“Please!” Candy’s tone was pleading, not polite. Well, she would have to deal with Eric soon enough. They cleared the table together. Even with six place settings and the dining room instead of the kitchen table, it wasn’t all that much work, and even less work for two.

“Look,” she said when the last dish was in the machine. “You have to talk with Eric, and I have to get the boys to bed. I can stay up there until you call. I’ve intruded on your privacy enough. Or...” It couldn’t be good for Candy, but she could choose her evils.

“Please. I want you there.” So be it. They went into the living room where Uncle Eric was reading the kids a book -- much better preparation for bed than Bill would have provided. She and Candy sat there until the bedtime came, and then until that book was finished.

“Time for bed,” she said. “Give Uncle Eric a kiss.” The boys would expect to kiss any visitors. Was Candy amenable? When she looked at her, she was. “And give Miss Wharton a kiss, too.”

“Nighty-night,” Paul said after the kiss.

“Good night, Paul.”

“Nighty-night.”

“Good night, Johnny.”

“She wants me down here before the conversation gets serious,” she told Eric as she followed the boys up the stairs. She gave Paul a little spank to encourage his progress.

This wasn’t a bath night, but there was still one bathroom for two boys. You’d think they could brush their teeth simultaneously, but you’d think wrong. They were still in one room, though, and she got through one book for the two of them. She kissed their foreheads and turned off the overhead light. You might think the ravening hordes could sleep in the dark, but you’d be wrong there, too; they had a night light. She relieved herself and washed her hands before returning to the living room. While she was coming downstairs, Eric was rearranging furniture. He took a dining room chair facing the sofa. That obviously left a space on the sofa beside Candy for her.

“Look,” Eric said, “this is painful. I know it. But it’s not going to get less painful with more delay ... Mrs. Pierce tells me that you were raped. Tell me about it.”

“I was stupid...”

“You were, are, a college freshman. That’s not being stupid; it might be being less cautious than an older woman might be. That’s not the point. Where were you? Who was with you? What did he do? Start where you want. If I need more details, I’ll ask for them.” Eric was a decent tenor and a fond godfather. She had thought him pretty ineffectual in general. This Eric sounded kind but firm.

“I was at a dance with this boy,” Candy began. “He had taken me there on a date. On the way home, he invited me to his apartment for a drink. I said yes. Anyway, one thing led to another. We were making out. I wanted him to stop, but he wouldn’t.”

“Did you tell him to stop? When?”

“When he took my panties off, and my pantyhose. He ignored me. Then, later, I found that he was naked, too. I tried to stop him, but I couldn’t.”

“He wouldn’t stop?”

“No.”

“You told him to stop?”

“Yes.”

“There was intercourse? He was inside you?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. That’s rape. Unless, of course, you’re married to him.”

“I’m not.”

“I didn’t think you were. It’s just the law. If you don’t like that, write your state legislator. Anyway, you’ve been saying ‘he.’ What was his name?”

“Jerry Lambert,” Candy said. She should warn Eric. He probably didn’t follow the Flames, maybe didn’t even follow basketball.

“BMOC.”

“Like Prof. Pierce says, he’s important.” With her last statement, Candy began to cry. Maybe she had just realized how bad her situation was accusing a basketball star. Maybe, she’d just got to the end of her tether. You couldn’t blame her for crying in either case. She gathered Candy into her arms and rocked her a little.

“Look,” Eric said, “I’m not the enemy.”

“I didn’t say you were,” Candy said.

“No, but Mama Bear was protecting you from me.” She hadn’t really been. She’d just been rocking Candy. “Anyway, this isn’t the end. Did you report this to the police?” A lawyer, she’d heard somewhere, never asks a question unless he knows the answer. It couldn’t be true; didn’t woman lawyers ask directions? In this case, though, Eric had known the answer. She had already told him.

“No.”

“Well, you’re going to have to tell this all over again. At least you’ll be telling it to a woman. Can I make an appointment for you?”

“If you have to.”

“Look, I repeat. I’m not the enemy. This MF, Jerry, is. Nothing’s going to happen to him if you hide yourself away. We’re not putting you through this because we’re evil. He’s putting you through this because of what he did and because that’s the only way that he’ll suffer at all. Anyway, I know the woman at the States Attorney’s Office you should talk to. I don’t know whether she’s on trial tomorrow. How do I get in contact with you? And when? Are you going to be home tomorrow?”

“I don’t want to be home. I haven’t told Mom.” Which made her wonder what Candy’s home situation was like. This was the second time she’d hugged Candy; was it the second time Candy had been hugged since it happened?

“Well, sometime, you’ll have to. Why don’t you give me your phone number, and when you’ll be home tomorrow. We’ll assume an appointment sometime Thursday. I’ll call you tomorrow night with the time and the room number. You know the County Building? It’s really the same building as City Hall, only we have the east side.” Candy wrote down her number and gave it to Eric.

“Take my work phone, too,” Eric said, giving Candy a card. “That way, if you call me in the early afternoon, you can learn the appointment without my calling you and raising questions at home.”

They sat there like the end of a circle meeting when the meeting is finished, but nobody has said so.

“Anyone want more dessert?” she asked. Candy, being of an age which constantly watches its weight, wouldn’t, but brownies were probably a specific for the feeling that your whole life has blown up. Still, nobody moved. Nobody even said, ‘no thanks.’ “Somehow, I don’t think this is the night to suggest a few hands of gin rummy.”

“You have been awfully kind already,” Candy said. Presumably, she was talking about the offer of more brownies, not about cards.

“I could drive you home,” Eric said. Now that was service for a crime victim.

“Really, I can...” Candy began. She trailed off, perhaps realizing how little she could do.

“I won’t take it personally if you would rather ride in the back seat. You have a damned good reason to be off men, but don’t think of me as a man; think of me as a driver.” Eric was being more forceful than she would have expected. Still, she didn’t want Candy standing on a lonely corner waiting for an infrequent bus. Eric and Candy went out together, the issue not completely resolved. She went up to kiss her boys again.

She was in bed but not asleep when Bill came in. He joined her soon after. He reached over.

“I’m thinking that you’re only entitled to one grope a night,” she told him. “You got your ration after dinner.”

“That was hardly a grope. That was a kiss. We always kiss goodbye when one of us is going out.”

“A kiss goodbye is all very well. I don’t like your hand on my butt when others can see -- not the boys, and certainly not my student.”

“But it’s all right in front of Eric?”

“I didn’t say that. It’s just that I need to keep up my reputation in front of my students. Eric already knows I’m married to an utter pig; I might not like his being reminded of that.”

“Well, I’m married to you. They both know that. I’ll bet your student even knows where babies come from.”

“Sure she knows we fuck, except kids that age sometimes think we all lose our ability when we pass 30. Knowing is one thing, and seeing it happen is another.”

“Well, in that case, the only way to maintain her blissful ignorance is to fuck in secret, and she’s gone now. So, it’s our duty to the purity of girlhood to fuck now, while she’s gone.” She had to laugh at that.

“Bill, you’re impossible.”

“Are you saying no?”

“No, but your reason is pure bull shit.” After all, she was married to the guy and had to put up with his personality. If she didn’t get his cock, too, she had all the costs with none of the benefits.

She saw Candy the next day in class, but neither mentioned the previous evening. As far as she was concerned, the matter was out of her hands. She’d signed up to teach economics; rape counseling wasn’t in her job description. Candy didn’t look any better Friday, nor did she pay any more attention. She made it a habit to call on students who weren’t paying attention, but she didn’t try that on Candy.

Another week went by without any information except that Candy was looking even more woebegone. Then the department chairman came to her office and chased David away. That was ominous. Normally, you visited the chairman.

“Look, you have a student, Candace Wharton.”

“Yeah.” That was indisputable.

“She’s been making some accusations about another student -- accusations to the police. Some people think you had something to do with that. Now, I know you didn’t, but I want to hear it from you.”

“Well, Candy came to me,” she said. “She said she had been raped. I put her in contact with the States Attorney’s Office. They must have contacted the police.”

“Well,” the chairman said, “the accusations are all over the school. You should have warned her about that. Jerry Lambert is a fine young man.”

“Let me get clear about this. A girl comes to me and tells me, tells me as her teacher, that she has been raped. I should tell her to keep it secret because going to jail would ruin Lambert’s eligibility?”

“Well, the police aren’t going to pursue it. It was a false accusation. You shouldn’t help girls spread false accusations.”

Carolyn pushed back. “The police aren’t going to pursue it. That I can believe. It didn’t sound false to me, and she sure as hell wasn’t going around spreading the story. She reported a crime to the police. She reported it too late, and I suggested that to her, although it was already too late before I heard about it. Are you saying that crimes shouldn’t be reported to the police? Are you saying that it’s school policy that crimes by sports stars should be hushed up?”

“All I’m saying is that you have a position here, and I have a position here, and you’re making both your position and mine very rocky.”

“Drew, listen to me carefully. I’m sure Candy doesn’t want this widely known. She’s ashamed of being the victim. Her privacy was violated in the very worst possible way. I don’t want to violate it anymore. And that is the reason, the God-damned only reason, I’m not on the phone to Royko right now. And as for my position, I’m a fucking assistant professor when my publication record is better than most of the department. I’ve had favorable, sometimes glowing reviews.”

“That might change,” he said.

“It might. And I’m a dues paying member of AAUP. I knew there was a reason.” Aside from her first reason, which was to piss off Bill, but this would be another reason. “Make trouble for me over this, and people will know why -- people who don’t even know that UIC exists right now.”

“This has gone far enough.”

“Fine with me. The next move is yours. If there’s no next move, there’ll be no next move. But my husband has asked me to stay home and write papers. I’m not so scared of getting canned that I’m going to cover up a felony.”

“Nobody’s asking you to cover anything up,” he said.

“Then there is no subject for this discussion. Just remember. The burglary didn’t finish Nixon; the coverup did.”

When he left, she called not the Chicago Sun Times but the States Attorney’s office. They reported that Eric Stewart was on trial. They took a message, and he called back before she left the office.

“Carolyn?”

“Eric. They said you were on trial. I didn’t even know that you’d been arrested.”

“It means involved in the courtroom. Not only defendants are on trial; so are counsel.” She had figured that out, but she liked to rib Eric. He was too solemn.

“Anyway. What’s going on at your end with the Candy deal? I’ll tell you somebody’s throwing some weight around at my end. Are you feeling the heat there, too.”?”

“No,” Eric said. “Get some perspective. He might well be a big man on campus as you said. He’s not a big man in the county. Fixing a rape is as hard as fixing a murder, maybe harder considering Miss Murphy. Anyway, there is no reason for anyone to throw his weight around. She spoke to Murphy, and then she filed a police report. The perp denied it, and there wasn’t much else the cops could do. Some people are bad witnesses, and Candy is one.”

“They didn’t believe her?” She had believed Candy.

“Oh, they, that is to say Murphy, believed her implicitly. What she didn’t believe is that she could convince a jury. Some very bad people are good witnesses; some very good people are bad witnesses. Anyway, there is a police report on file. The next time he rapes some woman, the cops will pull the file and know that neither report is bogus.”

“Assuming, of course,” she said, “that the next woman reports it.”

“Yeah. Murphy thought that he was a repeat offender, and Candy was just the first girl brave enough to come forward. This was, however, speculation. She would never go to the jury with that.”

Candy wasn’t looking any better, and wasn’t participating any better, Friday than she had Wednesday. Well, she didn’t know Candy’s schedule, but she would have Sunday and probably most of Saturday off. She’d never taught a class Saturday afternoon. If the weekend didn’t do anything for Candy, she’d talk to her Monday.

Monday, Candy looked more harassed, if anything, than she had Friday. She called her at the end of class and took her to the office. David was researching the fifth paper he’d started since beginning to teach a year ago. He had never submitted any of the others, never finished them apparently. Anyway, he was in the library.

“How is it going?” she asked Candy.

“Fine,” Candy said without making it sound fine, or even bearable.

“Really?”

“Worse than I can say. Jerry has been to see me, and people are talking about me, and I told my parents, and they don’t believe me.” At this point, Candy began sobbing. Carolyn held her. This was beginning to become a habit. Well, somebody should be holding Candy. Carolyn was a fucking bad choice, but she might be the only choice Candy had right then.

“I’m sorry,” Candy said when her crying had eased off.

“Well, I’m sorry, too. And I’m mad as hell. But you don’t have anything to apologize for. Look, do you have any support network? any group who are standing up for you?” Somebody more fitting than the economics professor who is going to flunk you unless you get your act together enough to study the course she teaches.

“No. My family isn’t, and I don’t know anybody in school. And I used to in high school, but they all moved on and went our different ways.” If the language wasn’t clear, the answer was.

“How about church?” That was a last chance, but churches had been part of her support, even before Aldersgate. If Candy were attending Aldersgate, she could name women who would support her.

“I don’t go much.” Which could mean anything.

“You don’t have any objection to going?” Carolyn was beginning to see a possibility. All the women who had been grad students along with her had moved on. Which meant the names and faces were different, but the roles and styles were still remarkably similar. She knew the ones who insisted on non-sexist language. If Candy’s friends wouldn’t support her, maybe the feminists would.

“No.”

“Well, let me give you an address. Meet me there 11:00 Sunday. Better make it 10:45. You have to have somebody in your corner. Fucking University isn’t in your corner. Probably too late to stop payment on your tuition check.” For that matter, there was probably a NOW chapter on campus. Still, she could drum up support at Aldersgate more easily.

“Are they making trouble for you?” Oh, Candy had picked up on her bitterness with regard to the University. Well, that wasn’t Candy’s problem.

“Look, don’t worry about me. I’m an assistant professor. I have a publication record that shines in the department, and they don’t have anyone else to teach Regional Economics. If they want to come after me for a lousy basketball player, they’re biting off more than they can chew.”

“Do you want me to withdraw the charges?” Candy asked. Shit! The girl was suffering, and she wanted to help Carolyn. Carolyn didn’t need help, and that wouldn’t help, anyway.

“They were true, weren’t they?”

“Yes.”

Carolyn said, “Then the worst thing you could do would be to withdraw the charges. In the first place, I don’t think they’re pursuing the case. Jerry already has destroyed you enough. Don’t let him destroy the rest of your life. If you cave to him, then you’re saying that he can go along and rape anyone he wants to. As for me -- and you shouldn’t be thinking of me; you have greater problems -- but as for me, it’s better that I went to bat for a student who was raped than that I went to bat for a student who lied about being raped.”

“Well, that’s what he’s saying.”