Ritual Reality
5 A Taste of Power
Saturday, 11 January 1969
Joe Hamel was happy to drive Wayne down to Indy after the holiday. It gave him an opportunity to relax with his son and not be interfered with by the women. He loved his wife and daughter, but they could really dominate a conversation. He’d finished the valve job on the ’56 Golden Hawk over Christmas and they felt the Packard 352 engine rumble as they sailed down US 31. They rode nearly fifty miles before either of them said anything.
“You never said how the young woman liked her Christmas present,” Joe said. “In fact, I don’t recall you mentioning her name.”
“You weren’t there for that conversation? Seems like everything at home has to be said three or four times,” Wayne laughed. “Judith loved the present. When she picked the sword up out of the box, I thought she was going to challenge all comers. She’s tiny, but she can be pretty frightening.”
“Nothing wrong with a strong woman. You’re acting differently than you did with your last girlfriend. A little more mature, I guess.”
“Well, I don’t expect to be buying an engagement ring in the next few months if that’s what you mean. I did kind of rush things with Barbara.” Joe nodded sagely. Thank heavens that hadn’t gone anywhere, Joe thought. The girl was a bit of a shrew and he wouldn’t put it past her to get knocked up to force Wayne to marry her. The engagement ring had probably short-circuited that as she figured she didn’t need to put out to get it. From what Joe understood, there had been quite a flurry of letters between the two with Barbara writing very uncomplimentary things about his son. Wayne had responded in kind with a parody of her letter, turning everything back on her. Joe had waited at the end of the lane when Wayne asked him to drive him over to get back the engagement ring. That was his son. If he wasn’t confident about his emotional temperament and ability to stay in control while he was driving, he knew he could depend on his dad. Staying in control was the real issue. They were coming past the turnoff for Noblesville before he spoke again.
“Judith… that’s her name? Pretty.”
“Yeah. She’s pretty, too.”
“Hmm. Strong and pretty. Powerful?”
“As fast and sleek as this car.” They both laughed.
“Powerful car. Powerful bike. Powerful women. They can all be more powerful than you are. But like your motorcycle, power is a dangerous thing if you don’t stay in control.”
That was the last that was spoken before they pulled into the parking lot at the college. Wayne unloaded his suitcase, a boxful of Christmas gifts, and the long bow his uncle had given him. He hugged his father goodbye and skipped up the steps to the dorm.
Joe was happy. He’d had a good talk with his son.
Wayne dropped his packages off in his room and ran for the women’s side of the dorm. It was Friday noon and classes wouldn’t start until Monday. He had no idea when Judith was slated to arrive back in town, but he could hope. He raised his hand to knock at her door just as it opened.
“Aaaiiiieee!” Judith screamed. The next thing Wayne knew he was sinking down the wall across the hall gasping for breath as Judith hovered over him panting. “Oh my god! Oh my god! I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? I’m sorry. You startled me.”
“I think I’ll live, but would you mind putting your knife away?” Judith glanced at the three-inch blade in her right hand. She collapsed it and it disappeared in her belt. Wayne watched, but was distracted by what was beneath the belt. Judith was wearing sneakers with about a mile of bare leg exposed between them and the very short skirt she was wearing. How could such a short girl have such long beautiful legs? She bent over to help him up and his gaze shifted to cleavage exposed by the three open buttons of her oxford shirt. “Are we okay?” he asked.
“Okay? Oh god! I’ve been waiting for you all week. I didn’t know how to reach you. I finally got them to let me into the dorm on Monday. There hasn’t been anyone here and I wasn’t expecting you when I opened the door and your fist was raised…”
Wayne reached for her and pulled her into a kiss that deepened rapidly until both were panting.
“I came by to see if you’d like to go to lunch,” Wayne gasped.
“Lunch. Yeah. That would be good.” Then they returned to their kiss.
Eventually they did get to lunch. The cafeteria was still closed since school didn’t start until Monday, but the new McDonald’s was only a few blocks away. They walked over, guided by the lighted sign that said, “Over a billion sold!”
“Man. Who eats a billion hamburgers?” Wayne asked. “I’ll have three double cheeseburgers, fries, and a chocolate shake.”
“I’ll have the fish filet, fries and a Coke,” Judith told the clerk.
“Judith. I’m going to… Judith. Oh god, Judith!”
Wayne’s hands were filled with Judith’s awesome soft breasts. They hadn’t undressed, but when he went back to her room after lunch they’d started kissing again and then ended up on her bed. School wasn’t in session and most students wouldn’t arrive until Sunday so there was no monitor in the lobby and no one really knew he was in the girls’ wing.
“Oh, Wayne! I feel it. I’m… kiss me.”
Her lips mashed against his and her tongue drove into his mouth. She rode on top of him rubbing her clit against his now-wet hard-on. Just his jeans and her panties between their genitals—preventing penetration.
They’d just been making out. They lay down on the bed with each other. She let him slip his hands under her blouse and reached back to unfasten her own bra, giving him free access. And they felt so unbelievably good. They’d started moving together, rubbing their crotches, building the fervor until they both climaxed, spewing their juices into their underwear.
“God, that’s going to be sticky,” he said.
“Don’t leave me tonight, Wayne,” she gasped. “Hold me close and sleep with me.”
She rolled off him, pushing her rear up against him as he turned toward her. She pulled his right hand back under her oxford as she lay cradled in his left arm. His hand on her breasts. All night.
They slept.
Sunday, 19 January 1969, early morning
“Hey. Cuppa joe and a coupla sinkers, babe.”
“Whata you? Holden Caulfield, tonight?” she answered in a Bronxy accent. She was so damned good with different dialects. “Where ya been, toots?” she asked as she set coffee, a fresh creamer, and two old fashioned doughnuts in front of him.
“Great holiday vacation. Spent Christmas with my folks and New Year’s with my uncle. They didn’t open the dorms until this past weekend.”
“Well, I’m glad somebody had a happy holiday. I almost quit this joint.”
“Why?” Wayne asked, alarmed.
“Stupid hold-up. Here I am on Christmas Eve, keeping the coffee on for people who don’t have any family or place to be, and two guys come in, pull a gun and demand all the money. On Christmas Eve! Cops are all over the place—too late, of course—and the boss calls me in the middle of the afternoon on Christmas Day and threatens to fire me. Me! Ah, what a bastard. It’s over now. I’m still here and he can go to hell.”
“Gees, Lissa. I’m sorry to hear about all that. I don’t know what this area’s coming to. We were broken into over the holiday, too.”
“You and your sweetheart?”
“No, the theatre at school. Nobody can figure out what the heck went on. Nothing seems to be missing, but the security guard was making his rounds and found all the lights in the dressing rooms, costume shop, scene shop, props closet—everything—on. All the doors open. Nobody around.”
“Haunted?”
“Blithe Spirit? I don’t think so. Locks on the dressing rooms and scene shop were broken. Other than that, no real damage done. Great way to start the term, though, seeing Jim’s dreaded C-ME note with my name attached on the call board. He was pretty ticked off.”
“Sounds malevolent. You be careful over there.”
“Thanks for the advice, Lissa.”
“Now tell me more about your break. Since I didn’t have one, I want to live through yours.” Wayne obliged her with the usual family stories and mentioned his trip to see his uncle. She seemed very interested in that, but he was careful not to say too much. Heck, it was the best dream of his vacation. Until he got back.
Thursday, 20 February 1969
Wayne glanced at his watch and sighed. Two a.m. and he was perched at the top of an eighteen-foot stepladder trying to control a thirty-pound Fresnel over his head while he tightened the C-clamp.
Production weeks were the pits. His classes went to hell; he slept little, ate poorly, and felt like something dragged him out of a gutter. But the show would open tomorrow night as shows always opened: on time. This was the last all-nighter he would pull for a few weeks anyway. And at least he didn’t have any early morning classes this term.
“Dimmer 23,” he yelled back to Beth at the light board backstage. The light came up and he made the final adjustment of focus on Judith, standing primly in the beam beneath him. He couldn’t believe how their relationship had developed. A little romance changed his perspective on life. “That’s it!” He slid the gel into place and started down the ladder.
“Hooray!” yelled both assistants. The house lights came up and the dimmer faded. Wayne heard the unmistakable clatter of the old light board shutting down. The many handles and levers on the antique resistance board required two people to run lights for a show with an occasional hand from an actor walking by. It was amazing that Beth could even shove the handles into position. Someday they would have an autotransformer panel. Until then…
Wayne hit the last step and tumbled exhaustedly into Judith’s waiting arms. “Poor baby,” she said, stroking his greasy hair. “All tired out?”
“Wiped,” he responded.
“Hey, me too,” Beth said coming out on stage to join in a group hug.
“How can either of you stand to be close to me?” Wayne asked. “I stink.”
“How could I tell?” asked Beth. “I’ve been shut up in that hot little hole for eight hours. I’m outa here.” She gave Judith and Wayne a little squeeze and headed for the door.
“You sure you don’t want to wait for company to walk back to the dorm?” Wayne asked as she opened the door.
“No way,” Beth responded. “By the time you two finish kissing good night, I’ll be fast asleep.”
“What makes you think I want to kiss a stinky old fish like him?” Judith called after Beth.
“Take it with a spoonful of sugar to help the medicine go down,” Beth sang from the hall.
“Say, that would be supercalifragilisticexpialidocious,” Wayne laughed.
“Much more interesting if you got a shower,” Judith said mugging a face.
“We couldn’t get into the dorm and out again this late at night,” Wayne answered. “Do you know what time it is?”
“Bedtime?” she asked innocently.
“I wouldn’t even insult my dorm sheets with this body.”
“Use the shower in the dressing room then,” she offered.
“Mmm, yes?” he said, kissing her again. “Join me?”
“I’m clean,” she answered. “Besides which, when I bathe, I like a big tub that I can lie back and relax in. Not standing in a little cubicle with it raining on me.”
They locked the stage door and walked down the back stairs to the dressing rooms. Wayne unlocked the door for them. The shower stall was exactly what Judith had described: a metal cubicle that you stood in while it rained on you. He stood under the water letting it drench his body.
“Any soap out there?” he called. Judith’s hand momentarily came through the shower curtain with a bar of soap in it. He took the soap from her, but the hand stayed in the shower stall with him. She rubbed his chest with her soapy hand, let it slide down his body to his waist, and then dart out of the shower. “Ah, you devil temptress,” he said as she left the room.
Minutes later, Wayne bolted out of the shower stall with a yell that echoed in the tiny dressing room, startling Judith almost off the chair on which she was patiently sitting.
“What in God’s name?” she asked, jumping up.
“The water just went to ice,” he exclaimed. “You didn’t turn on hot water anyplace did you?”
“Well, if you’ve already had a cold shower,” she said, “I’ll just go on home.” He looked at her as she spoke. She had on a thirties-style dressing gown, left over from Philadelphia Story. Combined with a Katherine Hepburn wig and Judith’s British accent, Wayne felt like he’d stepped straight into a movie.
The dressing room was full of costumes and make-up for 110 in the Shade that would open the next night. Racks of clothes lined the walls leading to the door into the costume storage room, a closet of immense proportions which was in a typical state of confusion. Costumes from twenty years of productions hung or lay on the floor of the closet. Wayne and Judith maneuvered themselves into this nest and closed the door behind them. She pulled away his towel and used it to dry the last drippings of water from him.
Judith spread the towel out on a pile of fluffy animal costumes and pulled Wayne down next to her. He was already hard as a rock, but she didn’t seem to mind as she caressed him. When he was lying down, she moved over him to kiss. He was lost—lost in the sensation of her lips and her skin against his.
Skin. They’d been fooling around for a month now, but that still didn’t mean they’d had sex. They’d always kept some clothes on, rubbing each other to mutual orgasm. But as Wayne let his hands drift down from her shoulders, he found only bare, sensual skin. Oh god! This is it. He restrained himself from grabbing all her naked bits, trying desperately for control—feeling her breasts pressed against his chest and following her lead as his hands found her bare ass. His erection was pressed against her stomach. She kissed him again and humped against his cock, her wet slit moistening it as she moved.
The unmistakable click of a latch and sound of a door opening brought them bolt upright tangled in arms and legs.
“Shit. Night watchman,” Wayne whispered. “I didn’t lock the door and the lights are on.” Footsteps echoed through the dressing room. They heard him moving costumes on the rack—Odd, Wayne thought. The hangers slid past one after another as if the guard was examining each one, then pushing on. Judith slid to his side and whipped a cape over their heads. Wayne grabbed nearby costumes and packed layers over them. Judith pecked mischievously at his ear as they listened to the approaching footsteps.
“I might come,” she whispered. Wayne kissed her to keep silence. He peaked through a hole in the badly worn garment as the closet door opened. What he saw, silhouetted against the light in the dressing room, however, was not the usual night watchman. He was dressed in a winter coat and gloves with a hat pulled down around eyes that almost seemed to glow. Visions of Rosemary’s Baby—a movie he’d been too shocked to walk out of—came to mind unbidden. It’s the devil, Wayne thought. The intruder shone a flashlight down the disordered racks of clothes and shook his head. He closed the door and moved toward the scene shop. Wayne knew it was locked, and couldn’t believe he heard the sound of the shop door opening. Moments later another set of footsteps echoed in the hall and once again the dressing room door opened.
“Hello? Anybody in here?” Wayne recognized the voice of the night watchman. He started to answer, but Judith clamped a hand over his mouth long enough for him to remember the state they were in. The light in the dressing room went out and the door was shut and locked. Wayne opened the closet door into the dark dressing room.
“What’s going on?” whispered Judith.
“I don’t know, but I don’t like it,” Wayne whispered back.
“Hey! What are you doing in there?” They stiffened at the sound of the watchman’s voice from the direction of the scene shop. Something crashed and footsteps ran down the hall and away. A second set of footsteps followed and then silence.
“Key-rist!” Wayne swore.
“You sure know how to show a girl a good time,” she joked.
“Let’s find out what the hell’s going on,” Wayne said.
“Better put some clothes on first,” she said. “We’re not quite dressed for cloak and dagger outings.” Wayne stopped in his tracks. He turned toward Judith and, for the first time, truly drank in what he saw. The wig had been lost somewhere in the storage closet. Her short blonde hair framed her pixie-like face above her bare shoulders and the hard pink tips atop beautiful, full round breasts. Her narrow waist and flat tummy accented the slight ridge of the hipbones and the tuft of fine gold hair between her legs.
Judith blushed at his gaze and turned to retrieve her clothes, inadvertently giving Wayne a long look at her luscious ass. She turned as she pulled her sweater on. He was still naked and staring.
“Dress,” she commanded. “We have to get out of here.”
“Right you are,” he grinned, coming out of his reverie. In minutes they were dressed and moving quietly through the theatre. The shop door stood open. “God! What a mess!” Wayne said surveying paint bleeding down the wall onto the floor. “I’ve got to clean up this paint.”
“Not tonight you don’t,” she said.
“Why?”
“Because we left the theatre at two o’clock, right after Beth did. We’ve got no reason to be here now. How do you know this happened?”
“Shit.”
“Leave everything exactly as it is and let’s get home to bed. We’ll wait for someone to call you about it,” she finished. They hurried out of the shop leaving it as they had found it and headed for the dormitory.
In his room, Wayne sat on the edge of his bed staring blankly at the wall in front of him. The night had been less than satisfactory. Judith had pulled him behind a bush as a police car passed and ground herself against him until they’d both come. Only the cold wet ground had forced them out of the hiding place. They kissed long and passionately at the dorm, but the night-desk monitor stared at them the entire time and they finally went to their separate wings.
As he sat, he could feel his heartbeat calming as his eyes crossed with exhaustion. But sleep was playing with him. He suddenly felt wide awake and restless. He could go for a doughnut, but there was still the possibility that someone would call him in the middle of the night about the break-in. If that happened, he had better be in his room.
He reached for his uncle’s diary to continue reading. Remembering his instructions, he slipped on the black robe before opening the book. Wayne had found this innovation to be helpful in his other studies as well and was spending a lot of his study time in his room dressed in the black monk’s robe. The first thing he had found in the book was an instruction on how to cast a warded circle. Wayne had no idea if this worked, but he dutifully went through the motions and invocations before sitting in the middle of his bed to read.
The Book of Shadows had been a real surprise. He’d hidden it until he was sure that he could be alone. It was nearly four weeks between his New Years’ meeting and the time when he finally opened the pine box that contained the manuscript. He expected to learn about his uncle’s James Bond-like adventures. What he found was closer to The Hobbit. It was filled with a medieval sense of magic, written from his uncle’s perspective as if it was all actually happening.
Uncle Bert had first met Benjamin Wilton in the 1930s as a comparative religions student studying ancient Greek mythology and then pressed into service as a spy. Wilton had information that was needed by the fledgling army intelligence. Bert couldn’t buy the information, but Wilton was willing to trade it for an exchanged vow of silence that he was sure could be trusted. What followed was Bert’s initiation into an ancient faerie cult. The initiation closely paralleled Wayne’s encounter with his uncle after Christmas. Uncle Bert’s initiation was much more involved than Wayne’s simple oath-taking, and the journal chronicled each step. From that point on, Wilton was referred to only as “Firebrand.”
Tonight, Wayne was caught by something less personal to his uncle but more directly related to Wayne’s experience. His uncle had studied different mysteries and cults and documented his findings.
In many traditions, the role of the uninitiated priest holds a rare but profound meaning. The Hebrews had their Melchizedek. The faerie traditions have a similar concept that traces back to Merlin. The most contemporary account is from the 19th century in which the title of Vagabond Priest is ascribed to the poet John Keats.
Keats was on a walking tour with his friend Brown when one night they became separated in the Lakes District. Keats emerged from that adventure having been exposed to a ritual performed in an ancient stone circle. Keats wandered into the ritual unaware of what was going on at first, but seeing the circle of pagans, dancing naked around a fire, he immediately stripped off his own clothing knowing that he had come home to his rightful place.
The goddess/priestess recognized him at once as a Vagabond Priest and ushered him into the inner circle where his own walking stick was consecrated as one of the circle’s most powerful tools. While the ritual was powerful, sexual, and charged with heat, it appears that it took its toll on both Keats and the priestess, known to us only as Mari. She died in childbirth nine months later and Keats’ consumption advanced to such a stage that within two years he followed her to the grave. But the line of Vagabond Priests, priests after the order of Merlin and Melchizedek, has continued to this day, revealing themselves, it is said, only in the time of absolute need.
It was true. Even if the paper in Wilton’s file was a fraud, the story was true. He could hardly wait to show Dr. Allen. He’d no more than thought this and the words slipped into a dream world. He tried to keep track of his dreams, but often they were just out of his reach.
Wayne eventually fell asleep and his uncle’s words blended into the images that he saw in his dreams. It was so real that he could see the circle of naked dancers around the fire and himself stumbling into the circle. The face that he saw across the fire was that of Judith and they danced a most erotic dance. Just as Wayne was about to consummate his love, he looked into her face and saw Dr. Allen. A strange sexuality mixed with panic left him bathed in sweat even though he awoke as cold as ice.
Eight o’clock found him staring at the ceiling unable to sleep any longer. The pine box with his uncle’s Book of Shadows in it was back on the shelf, covered with the black robe. He was still fully dressed. It was all a dream, he thought. My poor crazy uncle is beginning to get to my brain.
He couldn’t rush over to the theatre at this hour, as much as he wanted to. He would have to go through his day as normally as possible. Normally, he would sleep until ten-thirty. Well, if nothing else, he could put a little practice time at the archery range in the athletic building. It amazed him that he could get a full course credit in P.E. by putting in thirty hours of target practice and recording his scoring over the term. He reached the range at a quarter till nine and found Judith already stringing her bow.
“Great minds think alike,” she said. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“I know I slept sometime,” Wayne responded. “But I don’t feel like I got a wink. Wide awake at eight.”
“You out-slept me by an hour,” she responded. “I had breakfast at the cafeteria.”
“Was it worth it?”
“Is it ever?”
“Shall we match shots?” Wayne asked.
“Kiss a point?” Judith responded with a smile.
When it came to weaponry, archery was the only sport in which Wayne could match Judith. She tried to teach him to fence but he was an easy mark for her well-honed skill. Archery and tennis were co-educational classes since most of the instruction was completed as independent study, so they decided in January to take the class together. At the end of the first flight, they were even.
“Who do you suppose it was?” she asked as they collected their arrows and marked the scores.
“I have no idea,” he answered. “Didn’t look like a student and seemed to be looking for something specific. I haven’t gone over yet. Don’t want to get there before Jim does.”
“Gail asked what time I got in. I told her that we finished on stage at two and went for a doughnut. Got in at three without being anywhere near the theatre when the guard was there.”
“Good thinking. I almost went there. I’ll let Lissa know and I’m sure she’ll cover for us.”
“Lissa?” Judith asked questioningly.
“The doughnut lady on the late-night shift,” Wayne answered casually. He’d spent many a late night popping in to Donut World to study.
“Uh-huh, right,” Judith laughed.
“Do I love you, or is this just a hormonal imbalance?” Wayne asked, wrapping her in his arms as they collected their arrows and recorded the score. “You pay.”
“After every flight?” she asked.
“We could be even at the end of the match,” he grinned. “Okay, you owe me two.”
“You owe me a lot more than that after last night,” she answered, paying the first of the kisses she owed.
“I like this co-ed class,” Wayne said.
“Now if they just had co-ed showers,” Judith responded, grinning.
“Mmm. I thought you liked baths,” Wayne whispered.
“Good idea,” Judith said. “So, come home with me for spring break.”
“What?”
“I need to go home over Easter,” Judith said. “Come with me. I have my own vacant cottage with a big tub waiting for us.”
“What would your parents say, bringing an American home for the holiday?” Wayne asked.
“My mother would be delighted to think I was serious over someone,” Judith answered. “My father wouldn’t know. I haven’t seen him in years. I was conceived at the dark of the moon, you know.”
“The Dark of the Moon,” Wayne repeated. “Jim should consider doing that one next year. Witches and magic and great effects. We could enter it in the festival.” Judith looked at him, then let her arrow fly.
“I’ve not read it,” she confessed. “Do you have a copy?”
“No. I saw it at a summer stock last year,” Wayne responded. “I’m now eighteen kisses ahead of you. What time is it?”
“Almost ten,” Judith said. “You’re not quitting until I have a fair chance to catch up. Besides you haven’t answered my question yet.”
“You were serious?” Wayne asked staring at her with a mixture of disbelief and fantasy playing in his eyes.
“Of course,” she answered.
“What’s a ticket to England cost?”
“In dollars or real money?”
“Our dollars are just as good as your pounds and ounces.”
“Shillings,” she snapped. “About $300.”
“I’ll have to see what’s left in my student loan account,” he said. “What kind of travel money would I need?”
“If you think I’m going to let you out of my little cottage long enough to spend something, you have another think coming,” Judith said. Wayne let fly his last arrow and she stepped up to the line. “Besides, you haven’t said yet that you want to come.”
“I want to come every time I see you,” he whispered. Her arrow went way wide of the mark.
“That’s not fair! I get that one over.” They laughed and walked to the target. Wayne pulled out her last arrow and stuck it by hand in the bullseye.
“You deserve that. Now I pay,” he said and pulled her to him to kiss her.
“Hey! There are others of us who have to put in time here, too, you know,” said another student stringing a bow at the head of the range. “Can’t you find someplace private to screw around?”
“Shit,” Wayne whispered backing suddenly away. “Let’s go.”
“Typical male,” Judith growled. “Always coming and going.”
“Careful how you talk, there, lady,” he said. “Next thing you know I’ll come and stay.”
“Promises, promises.”
“My kind of promises,” Wayne sang. “I think I’ve listened to that album fifty times since Christmas. Let’s walk by the office and see if Jim’s in yet.” The two hung up the practice bows in the equipment room and left the Athletic Building. They walked hand-in-hand across campus to the Academic Building. Someday, Wayne mused to himself, there would be enough famous alumni and benefactors to name all the buildings after someone. It was a weird school that just had functional buildings.
When they reached the hall outside the theatre office they paused to look at the callboard. A note in Jim’s writing addressed to Wayne hung on the board.
“It looks like the shit has already hit the fan,” Wayne said, reading the note. “It just says, ‘C-ME NOW!’” He knocked on the theatre professor’s door and Jim’s morning growl commanded entrance. “A usual Friday morning, I see,” Wayne said looking at Jim’s haggard expression.
“I feel like a ghost,” Jim said lighting a cigarette. Wayne noted his ashtray was already full and three empty Styrofoam cups sat on his unorganized desk. “I got a security call at four o’clock this morning and I’ve been over here ever since. We were broken into last night. Have you been to the shop yet?”
“No,” Wayne answered truthfully. “Not since last night. Four o’clock? After we finished the lights.”
“What time did you leave?” Jim asked. Wayne looked at Judith for confirmation as he answered.
“Must have been about two o’clock. Few minutes after by the time we got cleared out.”
“Security says dressing room A was unlocked and the lights were on. They discovered the suspect in the scene shop. Are you sure things were locked up when you left?”
“Sure. Did they get him?” Wayne asked, nearly forgetting the implication of the open dressing room.
“No,” Jim sighed. “He got away. I’m afraid there’s a mess downstairs for you to clean up.”
“Damn. Did he take anything?”
“I don’t think so, but you’d better check it out when you clean up.” Jim looked hard at Wayne and Judith as he ground out his cigarette. “Wayne, there’s one more thing.” The young man stopped frozen in place by the edge in his professor’s voice. “This is the second break-in this term, plus the library break-in last fall. Over Christmas break, they traced that one into the scene shop, too. Anyone who tries that route again will have a nasty surprise waiting for them. Administration is convinced that the theatre has nothing legitimate to entice a burglar back so many times and apparently take nothing each time.”
“It sounds strange to me, too,” Wayne responded with a little relief in his voice. “But at least they saw the guy this time.”
“Judith,” said Jim, “I’m going to let you stay for this, only because it’s sometimes good for two people to hear something said and be able to compare notes, just to be sure it all sank in. I will personally hang, draw, and quarter anyone caught in this department with so much as a beer on theatre premises. I will not be so kind if the substance is anything harder. What you two or any of the other majors do off campus and away from the theatre is your own business. But there had bloody well better not be any drugs in that shop or anyplace else around when the administration conducts the search that they have decided is necessary. There’s a lot riding on it, believe me. It might be kinder if that word reached the rest of the department through you two instead of through me. I hope you understand.”
“Yeah,” Wayne said, a little stunned. “Clearly.”
“Good. Get that mess downstairs cleaned up.”
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