Chapter 7
When the National Guard arrived the next morning, their numbers having swollen during the night at the local armory as, unit by unit, men arrived from all over the state. When several truck-loads arrived on campus there was nothing for them to do. Sitting in their trucks, or lounging on the sidewalks around them, they saw students walking back and forth to class just like students anywhere. They were not even particularly hostile to the soldiers, chatting with them, the girls handing them cookies and flowers.
At the beginning of the day there were not many students about, but as the day wore on and news spread, more came to campus until, by lunchtime, when the troops were sent back to the armory, it looked like a normal day. Tom Kimbal had called the local newspapers during the night and announced that rather than let the governor create a situation where blood would flow, he, Tom, was going against the man to relax regulations in the dorms and thus end the riot. Students, reading headlines that the riot was over, promptly returned to class.
The commander of the National Guard criticized the governor for calling out his men, disrupting their lives, for nothing. The governor promptly called both Tom and the general scoundrels, but no one bought it. Having reigned in terror from the state capital for two terms, the governor, who had presidential aspirations, ran for senator the following fall, and was soundly defeated.
Officer Mullins was arrested as he lay in his hospital bed, recuperating from broken rips and a broken face, and was charged with rape, unnatural sex, and depriving prisoners of their civil rights. Coming from Judge O'Gary, the D.A. had immediately gone to work on the complaint against the "John Doe" who'd been on duty at the prison farm that day. But the D.A. had a limited staff and many other complaints, warrants, etc., in the height of the riot, and his investigating staff had not come up with the culprit's identity until it was too late to save his, the culprit's, face.
A member of the D.A.'s staff talked to Suzie, but she denied all knowledge of the man. When Mullins recovered, Jack, his nose misshapen but likewise healed, read in the paper that he was to be arraigned and charged, sitting with Suzie in commons at breakfast, having just spent the night with her and Janet, comfortably adapting to the new rules.
"We ought to picket," he said, reading the news item aloud.
"Picket?" Suzie asked, aghast at the memory of the man.
"Sure. They're charging him with sodomy. That's not a crime."
"Hasn't he done enough else, though?" Suzie cried.
"Of course," Jack said. "I'd like to see him hang. But sodomy shouldn't be a crime. We have to be fair. Our signs should read, 'Rapeyes! Sodomy no!' What do you think?" "I think that takes the cake," she said.
"What?" he asked.
"After what he did to me, you want to picket?"
"Well, no," Jack backed off. "Not really. It's just that, ideally, we should be fair-minded."
"Oh," Suzie said. But she'd caught a true glimpse of Jack just then. And she didn't like it. Picket! Why, he'd use anything as an excuse to create a disturbance. Hell, he didn't like causes, his cause was turmoil itself. He was hooked, no better than if on a powerful drug. Suzie shuddered inwardly, wondering what kind of guy this really was.