Wild Justice

It was going to be a perfect June day. Already a cloudless, azure sky, promising no hint of rain, arched over a shimmering campus. All shades of green were represented and so was every color in the flowers that lined the walks and burst forth from the beds. In perfect compliment, the lovely old brick and stone buildings sat around the campus, complaisant and secure, full of pride and tradition.

The library building, squat and solid, redolent with the collected tomes of the ages, stood as a testament to humanity's progress. Works of ancient poets and philosophers, sinners and saints filled the shelves co-mingling with the more recent and modern books. Here were the records of man's highest achievements and his inhumanity to man but as yet, this building cataloged few, if any, records of woman's highest achievements and man's in-humanity to woman. The former being seldom recorded or remembered; the latter too usual and customary to remark upon.

Whistling softly to himself, Jonathan Bambridge, Professor, Ph.D., Faculty Ombudsman left the sidewalk and entered the administration building. He proceeded directly to the Vice President's office and entered through a door already open.

"Jonathan, good of you to come on such short notice," greeted the Academic VP, waving Jonathan toward the inner office.

One wall of the office was devoted to 'art'. The entire grouping reminded Jonathan of different aspects of the same road-kill.

"On a day like this, it is a pleasure, Henry. Looks like the weather is cooperating for graduation this year."

"Well, it's about time. Two years in a row we've been rained out. Drop your bag, grab a cup of coffee and sit down."

Henry Tarbuck, Academic Vice President picked up his own cup from his desk and went to the conference chairs arranged for conversation in the office alcove. From here he eyed Jonathan reflectively. Good man, he thought. Saved us a batch of trouble by coming to me right off.

Tarbuck adjusted his six foot two, rather heavy-set frame more comfortably in the chair. Young for his position, barely in his thirties, he directed seasoned professors twice his age and experience. This along with his imposing height and bulk had caused some resentment but Henry just ignored it.

As first assistant to the president of Belmont University, he reveled in power and position and firmly believed that those that can, do (like him) and those that can't, teach (like faculty).

He covered this attitude with a hearty, down-to-earth, back slapping manner that fooled no one but himself.

Bambridge joined him in the alcove, holding his coffee cup out ahead of him like an offering. "Damn good coffee, Henry. Must have made it yourself."

At fifty-five, Henry Bambridge figured he'd seen it all and most of the fight had gone out of him. Physically, he was the opposite of Tarbuck, slight in build and not quite five ten but looked shorter. His features were finely drawn, almost feminine in contrast to the dark, craggy, nearly simian countenance of Tarbuck.

"Let's get down to it." Henry Tarbuck radiated impatience as visible as the steam rising from newly deposited excrement on a frosty day. For a time, the men went over the schedule of events slated for the hearing.

"Everything seems to be in order," Jonathan suggested.

"Right, it's a go. I want to tell you, Jonathan, you've done a damn fine job so far." Henry gestured expansively. "By advising Diana Trenchant to attend her termination hearing without an attorney, you saved us all a great deal of trouble."

The ombudsman acknowledged the compliment with a nod. Jonathan knew his job was to provide just such a service to the administration. He understood that the ombudsman's function was ostensibly created to provide the faculty with a neutral source to handle complaints. Most times the illusion of impartiality was well maintained, but the reality of the position was otherwise-it was the administration's ear and eye on the faculty.

"Just followed your suggestion," Jonathan replied, preening self-consciously. Feeling himself in the good graces of the VP, he continued. "What's the story here, Henry? Why is this being handled so harshly? Her transgression is fairly innocuous and I'm surprised it's even coming to a hearing panel. Why not slap her down or suspend her? Hell, it would be less trouble to retire her, she's been here nearly twenty-five years!"

Henry twitched with ill-concealed indignation for an instant then answered calmly but with some passion, "Between you and me, Jonathan, the bitch needs a taking down. You know how we've adjusted to federal and state mandates that women be accepted, even encouraged to work and matriculate here.

"All in all, it hasn't been a bad deal for us. Sure, we've had to raise some salaries but, well, give the devil her due, most women do seem to work hard and get a lot accomplished. They are usually fairly easy to control. Most are scared stupid of being called a lesbian and petrified at the thought that this accusation might be spread around among people they know. Or, if they are married and obviously straight, plant the suggestion that it might get around that they are promiscuous. It turns them to jelly every time."

Henry laughed delightedly as he stood up and assumed a lecturer's pose, unwittingly mimicking the profession he disparaged. As he warmed to his subject, he walked back and forth across the office, adding punctuation to his lecture with his body. Jonathan watched him intently.

"Then there are the most enjoyable ones. They're on the make for any man who is looking for an easy lay. They trade their ass for any glory that may fall their way through association. As workers, most aren't worth shit but they do as they're told. Have to watch them though because if someone higher than you in the pecking, or ha ha, pecker order, comes along, they leave you cold.

"Now, so-called liberated professionals, feminists, may become a focus for women's groups on campus. They get a name for being champions of women's causes. However, jerk their chain and they are a hodgepodge of insecurities. They have worked so hard to attain their position and the prestige and power that goes with it, that they are our best allies against women's movements and demands for equal wages, in short, any kind of problem we may encounter."

"How can that be, Henry?" Jonathan was finding the impromptu lecture not only informative, but very interesting.

"We just put them on committees or hearing panels such as the one coming up. In appearance, we are being fair by having women represented, not just women, but women who are vocal regarding their movement. Actually, because they want so much for themselves, they are easy as hell to buy. We provide perks that make them feel important. They get invited to presidential teas, trustee cocktail parties-anything that puffs them up, makes them feel good-that's the carrot.

"The committee chair lets them know how to vote and how well pleased their dean will be with them and voila! Believe me, they well know how bad it can get if they fall out of favor with the boss. If this isn't convincing, just indicate to them that they can be made to appear mentally unstable or morally deviant-that's the stick.

"Very few women fight back or quit a committee even if they become uncomfortable with what it is doing. Most just keep their heads down and hope nobody finds out how they voted. I've appointed three women to the Trenchant hearing panel. Two of them are younger women hot to trot up the academic success ladder which I just happen to be holding." Henry paused, preening himself with obvious relish.

Eager for more of this fascinating information, Jonathan queried, "What about Diana Trenchant? She doesn't appear concerned that everyone would know she committed a crime. She refused to quietly resign claiming that the accusations are false and apparently is going to put on a defense at the hearing."

"Defense! Ha! It won't amount to bug dust. I chose the panel and I shall chair the panel and the panel will vote to terminate her." Henry was becoming very agitated. His pacing was now fast and choppy.

"She's one of those trouble makers who do so well in their job that it's hard to find a reason to get rid of them. It is vital that we hold this hearing and terminate her. We must provide an example." Turning back toward the table, Henry started to shuffle the papers busily. "We've gone over most everything in the handbook on procedure and as far as I can see, everything is proper. What do you think?"

Jonathan, who was holding a copy of the faculty handbook and studying the tip of his left shoe, shook his head in agreement. "It all appears to be absolutely correct so far."

"Fine. Now I'll expect you to be available during the hearing in the waiting room. This is just for appearance, for extra insurance. Things have a way of getting screwed up where she's concerned."

Hoping to reopen the informative flood gates with a smattering of devil's advocate, Jonathan observed slyly, "You know, Henry, her personnel file was rather impressive. She appeared to have been an capable technician, an excellent teacher and received high performance evaluations. No complaints for being late or absent from work, no reports of drink or drugs...."

Again the VP became agitated. This time he grabbed his cup and went to the coffee maker. "She gets people stirred up. That's where problems arise from-those unexpected, unknown sources. No administrator can prepare for those kind of events. For instance, a few years ago a student under her influence embarrassed Jimbo Jones-he was NERD chair before Lyle-and put the department in an uproar...."

Jimbo Jones, chairman, six NERD faculty members and two graduate student Teaching Assistants occupied the conference room at the weekly departmental meeting.

Over the general murmuring and grumbling of a discontented faculty, Peter, the departmental mouth said, "We ought to get a higher percentage raise, Jimbo. Every year you tell us the same thing. Times are tough, the legislature won't spring for a decent appropriation. The dean can't...."

"I know that and I've been thinking how I could cut the roster and have a little more to share among the rest of us. If you agree, I think it's time we let Diana Trenchant go. Last year I had to give her a whopping raise while the rest of us had to settle for the usual 3%, and Ted at the Affirmative Action Office says we've got to give her more again this year and then still more until she catches up to or surpasses Fred's paycheck.

"Of course, it means that you will have to share Fred, our only other technician, do your own research or get a grant and hire your own technician."

Most of the people in the room moved uncomfortably in their chairs looking down at the floor or out the window. Looking anywhere but at each other or Jimbo.

"It's settled then, we let her go?" Jimbo broke the silence. "No one opposes? All right then, it's....

"I don't know too much about these things," came a hesitant voice from the back of the group. Everyone turned around to look at the young graduate student, Holly Preston, who had spoken.

In a voice getting stronger all the time, she continued, "As I say, I don't know much about this, but I thought when someone was fired that there had to be cause. That is, that they were not doing their job properly or whatever.

"Since I've been in the department, I have been impressed with Diana Trenchant's hard work and knowledge. I've gone to her often for help. What reason will you give for firing her, Dr. Jones?"

A taut silence descended upon the room like a malignant fog. Then, an angry, red-faced Jimbo Jones glared at Holly, declared the action tabled and adjourned the meeting. The NERD faculty Judas goats shuffled out sheepishly, having been well and truly sheared by a lamb.

John T. Pope had been president of Belmont University for nearly twelve years. Because of his belief in his own infallibility, he soon became referred to as The Pope. He greatly increased the senior administrative staff which now occupied one whole wing of the administration building. This wing was known as the Vatican and when a person spoke of kissing the Pope's ring, it was well understood what part of the Pope's anatomy they were referring to. The slew of vice presidents, associate vp's and assistant vp's around the president were soon called the Vee's.

Most people believed Vee was short for vice president but insiders knew it really stood for vestigial virgins.

He located the personnel office close by the Vatican. It was the administration's muscle and the buffer between it and the so-called support staff. Patterned after the military, it was directed by, and key positions held by former military men. The military analogy persists throughout the university structure. Upper administration and faculty are designated as officers.

In order to insure staff cooperation, President Pope had created a company union called the Staff Association. To keep tabs on the members, he appointed the director of personnel an ex-officio member. The current director, Greg Harrison, attended every meeting, answered questions, directed staff activities and channeled them into acceptable areas.

"Yes, I do," Henry continued glowering. "A year after Trenchant got on the Staff Association, she was elected its chair and that body turned from being a very convenient rubber stamp into a cohesive, confrontational group of people. She was reelected unanimously for a second term and during those two years she managed to upset nearly everybody in the Vatican-especially, The Pope. It seems, from what I was told when I was appointed academic vp, that during this time a great deal of energy was directed toward damage control.

"Nothing worked with her. All the tried and true methods of threat or blandishment had no affect. She didn't seem to notice or understand that if she played ball she would become more important than the staff she represented.

"She and the Staff Association encouraged the rest of the staff to bring problems to their office. We had almost daily calls from the Attorney General's Office because she advised women to make complaints if they were discriminated against or harassed. She even boxed in Mark, the university attorney, and just four years ago, she made a shambles of personnel by kicking Greg, the director, out of the Staff Association.

"And that's not all. Under her direction, the Staff Association started to by-pass personnel altogether. They investigated several grievances and represented the grievers they felt were abused by the system.

"They started a staff newsletter to inform everyone about their rights-especially concerning sex discrimination and sexual harassment. The staff was told to stay away from the affirmative action office, which was described as a tool of the personnel department, and take their complaints directly to the Attorney General-they even printed her phone number, for Christ's sake.... Trenchant and a committee met with a federal EEOC investigator. He was presented with a list of staff and faculty positions with a notation of the total number and how many were held by women. The investigator was here to make sure the university was in compliance for a million dollar federal research grant."

Surprise suffused Jonathan's face. "How did she get that information, Henry? I thought that was one of our better kept secrets."

The Vee exploded. "We were exceedingly careful never to publish anything like that. Members of the Staff Association went through the campus directory to compile the list. Took a lot of time, but they kept at it."

"Sonofabitch!"

"Yeah," agreed Henry. "Lyle gave her a faculty appointment to get her out of staff politics. He had her teaching every semester with the hope that she'd be too busy to cause anymore trouble. Next thing we know, she's threatening to sue the NERD for plagiarism. You know the rest and we have just time enough to get ready. Use the facilities if you need to." He pointed in the direction of an adjoining washroom, then opened a closet door and removed his cap and gown which he laid across the table. Jonathan opened the case he had brought with him.

As both men donned their robes, Jonathan asked, "why is the Trenchant hearing being held so soon after graduation?"

"We wanted to wait until the students left, of course. They've been pestering us with petitions in support of her and we sure don't want them around during her hearing. Also everyone wants to leave as soon as possible for summer vacations, Jonathan. We want this mess cleaned up before we leave."

"Well, my station for the grand march is west campus. Yours?" Fully garbed in medieval academic splendor, Jonathan paused by the open door.

"My department forms up in front of the library. See you next week."

"Right."

The two men left the office together then separated at the founder's statue to reach their appointed destinations.

What a farce, ruminated Jonathan as he made his way between the colorful plantings bordering the walk. Shakespeare would have loved it. Much ado about nothing and a tempest in a teapot. What a hoot, making all this fuss about seven student feedback forms. Nobody ever pays any attention to them yet suddenly they are so important.

Hard to figure a valid reason for such violent reactions from the Vee. Just a couple of years ago, Professor Beand was convicted of child molestation. He was suspended for a few months but they took him right back with no loss of pay or position.

And then there was that dean in the History Department who altered faculty promotion papers. Nothing happened to him. I remember one of the Vee's saying at that time that he shouldn't be disciplined for it because other faculty had done far worse things and were not punished. That's sure true. I remember several incidents involving students, alcohol, drugs....all swept quietly under the rug.

It's obvious what is going on here. Lyle needs to pull the chestnuts out of the fire for those two new faculty he took on so they can be reappointed and tenured. If he can pin some of their negative critiques on Diana Trenchant, he can argue that all the years of bad critiques are suspect and nullify them.

And, of course, Henry and the rest are going along with it out of revenge-they are just plain pissed off because they couldn't win her over with snob appeal. She scorned them, their exalted positions and their offerings. That's it, I bet anything that's it. Silently apologizing to William Congrave, Jonathan paraphrased, "Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned nor Hell more fury than a good 'ol boy scorned." The medical student that wrote the open letter to The Pope was right-this hearing is an administrative gang bang.

Jonathan was soon joined by others in brightly colored or richly black gowns. Peacocked with the educational badge each had attained and crowned with a mortar board which got its name from a board used by masons to hold cement. How appropriate that it is worn on the head.

Commencement-a colorful, glorious grouping traditioned by time. All nicely covering the decay and tarnish of some of its stewards.

THE HEARING - DAY 1

"The hearing? Oh yes, that is being held in this room right here," advised Lorraine Debeau, head custodian of Howard Hall.

Diana Trenchant and her witnesses had arrived early. One of the witnesses asked Lorraine where the group might wait.

"There are two rooms I was told to open. This is the best one right opposite the hearing room," she offered, walking ahead of them into the room, proud as a general leading the troops to battle. "I'll give you guys the best one since you are here first and because of what you are doing."

As she turned to leave the room, she put her hand on Trenchant's shoulder. "Hey, good luck. You know, you are the only person that ever tried to help us custodians get a fair shake. When you were head of the Staff Association, you made those guys in administration treat us decent."

The six witnesses and Trenchant spread themselves out comfortably on the plush sofas and soft rug as individual preference dictated. Good feelings washed over them, mixed with pride and determination. It was as if their cause, their righteous quest, had been anointed by a high priestess.

"It's nice to have friends in high places," commented Andrea, looking around appreciatively. They were in a large, rectangular room outfitted as a lounge. At the front facing the entrance hall, the walls gave way to glass, so it was something like being in a fish bowl. Someone suggested shutting the curtains but Helen objected.

"No, don't. I want to watch for them to come in. I'm going to take their pictures."

There was general laughter at this and Andrea slapped her on the back, "go gittum, Helen."

Roz advised the other witnesses not to be intimidated by the panel. "Hey, I've known most of them for years and they are no better than we are." She had held a full time job at Belmont for nearly two years. Roz had been around and was no spring chicken so the group nodded and took comfort from her.

She, like some of the other witnesses, was also taking courses in the nursing school. One of these courses was taught by Diana Trenchant.

"Look, here they come now," Helen yelled as a group of men came into the hall through the open front door. She grabbed her camera and shot out of the room.

One of the men broke from the group and came into the witness room saying loudly, "Who are you and what are you doing in here? This room is reserved."

"We were told this was a witness room and we are witnesses," said Roz, flatly. "Who are you?"

Glaring at Roz and throwing his entire body into an intimidating pose, the man said angrily, "I am the Academic Vice President, Henry Tarbuck, and I reserved this room for the university witnesses."

"That's OK then," said Roz cheerfully and completely unimpressed. "We are university witnesses."

Diana stepped forward. "Is there a problem?"

"Oh, it's you. You were supposed to go to a room upstairs."

"We asked and we were directed here," interjected Roz. Smiling up at Henry innocently, she continued in a child's sing-song voice, "finders, keepers."

"Well. We'll see about that," was the disgruntled, graceless retort.

As he turned to leave Trenchant stopped him. "I have requested an open hearing which you have denied me. I again ask that the hearing be open."

"No, absolutely not. The hearing is closed."

"A closed hearing is to protect the rights of the accused. As the accused, I waive that consideration and again request that the hearing be open and that any person who wishes may attend."

"No." The Vee closed the door of the witness room behind him with a indignant slam.

"Now there's a sweetheart," murmured Roz. "Hey, did you guys notice we got our own phone in here?"

An obviously annoyed Henry Tarbuck sought out the custodian, Lorraine. "I ordered that downstairs room to be held for the university's witnesses," he barked at her.

"Not me, you didn't. I was told to open two rooms for the hearing witnesses. That's all." Lorraine, all four feet of her bristling, stood up on her toes and duplicated the Vee's tone, jaw to jaw.

Always outmatched when encountering any female who did not smile, cringe, grovel or otherwise conform to his 'typing', Henry turned away from her and fumed his way to the hall phone booth.

Reaching his secretary, his tone took on the whine of a young boy. "Lynn, something terrible has happened. That woman took the good room, the one with the good chairs and the telephone. I'm using the booth in the hall! How could this happen?"

"I don't know, Henry. I told the custodian over there to reserve the two rooms as you directed me. I don't recall that you gave me specific instructions as to which room was for which group."

"I assumed th...."

Henry broke off as he caught sight of the dean and two medical school faculty coming in the door. "I'll get back to you and get this straightened out. Got to go.

"Right this way, gentlemen. We've had a slight mix up in the waiting rooms and I apologize in advance for any inconvenience it may cause. I'm going to have a phone put in soonest and some decent chairs!" Still talking, Henry led the men upstairs.

Downstairs, Helen returned from a self appointed scouting mission, breathless and amused. "Oh," she panted, "you should see the room they have. It's a lecture hall-hard chairs and blackboards all around. We sure lucked out by getting here first."

"We sure did but our luck was in having Lorraine as custodian in charge. Obviously, we were supposed to get the upstairs one and I'll bet you dollars to donuts that it's been bugged," asserted Roz.

Helen had recovered her breath by now and readily agreed. "Yeah, I bet. You know that Vee, Jimbo, was so threatening. I took his picture and he came right up to me and demanded to know my name and what I was doing there and...."

"Oh, he's a pain in the ass all the time," Roz interrupted. "He was bad enough when he was chair of NERD but now that they kicked him up to a Vee, he's insufferable. Drinks like a fish. Did you tell him?"

Helen laughed. "No, I just yelled, 'Press', at him and got the hell out of there.

"Just a moment ago, outside, I got a good shot of three guys that were just coming in. I think one of them was Dean Broadhurst. One of the guys with him saw me and covered his face-just like you see the crooks do on TV when they're taken to court."

James, the one male witness, came in with Jean and Andrea. They were laden with Dunkin' Donut bags, coffee cups, milk and soda.

It was well past the time set for the commencement of the hearing and the six women and one man good naturedly sat down to await the pleasure of the Vee. Noblesse oblige never had functioned at Belmont and they didn't expect it to start now.

Upstairs, things were gradually getting sorted out. Harried custodians had removed or stacked most of the student chairs and brought in plush seats. A phone had been located trailing a long, snake-like extension cord that stretched out the door and back along the hall to the office it had been liberated from.

The university caterers had brought in a coffee, tea and Danish service which was in the process of being depleted by the administration's witnesses. Henry Tarbuck worked the room, spreading ersatz charm like a bee pollinating from flower to flower.