Susan walked among the columns of King's College, feeling
the brisk autumn wind whipping around the stone and chilling her legs.
"Susan!"
She looked up and smiled as Hattie Pergil, a pretty girl
with curly walnut hair and glasses, ran toward her. Well, I suppose ran would
not be the proper term.
Hattie was a sweet-natured girl, but she was of the sort
endowed with those funny quirks that made others want to initially avoid them,
but in reality they were completely harmless. Hattie's "quirk" was
immediately evident in the way she walked. As long as she kept a slow pace, you
couldn't tell, but Hattie's knees weren't quite what they ought to have been.
When she wanted to go any faster than a walk, the joints "wobbled"
(no other word could express the commotion!) in their sockets, giving the
hastening girl the appearance that her legs might collapse at any moment.
She "wobbled" up to Susan now. Hattie was such a
sweet girl that Susan purposely chose to overlook her defect, or if there were
any feelings of revulsion within her, she suppressed them for the sake of
civility. "Hello, Hattie," she said amiably.
"Say, I've invited some girls to my house this evening
for a dinner party. Do you want to come? Please say yes!"
Susan laughed at the eager petition. "I suppose you've
left me no option, dear Hattie! Of course I'll come."
Hattie's eyes shone behind her lenses. "Oh, wonderful!
See you tonight then!"
Susan smiled as Hattie walked away.
Susan ate lunch that day with two other girls, Mirabelle
Anthony and Charity Daniels. They were discussing their after-college plans
when a quiet voice behind Susan asked, "May I sit here?"
Susan turned to face Etienne Genoud, the French exchange
student. "Hello, Ettie; of course you may," she said, pulling out the
chair next to her.
"Ettie," Charity piped up as the French girl took
her seat, "we were just talking about what we want to do after college. Do
you have any plans?"
Ettie, as the other girls called her, was mildly perplexed
for a moment. "What I will do tonight, non? Ah, oui, after I finish my
education." She smiled, "I would like to become what you English call
a midwife, to help the mothers with the babies."
Susan nodded. The petite French girl had hands and
temperament as gentle as her voice. Etienne was adequately suited for such an
occupation.
Mirabelle sniffed, "Well, I don't want to be stuck with
squalling babies. I want to become a surgeon's assistant, maybe even surgeon
someday."
Charity cocked her head at her friend. "Can a woman be
surgeon?"
Mirabelle shrugged, "Well, I don't know if any have,
but it doesn't mean they can't! You all know me, I don't mind being the
first."
The girls all laughed, and Susan pondered her friend's
ambitions during the rest of her classes.
She and Benton met after classes, and Susan asked what he
thought about women filling professional positions normally dominated by men.
Benton thought carefully before giving his reply.
"I do not think it wise for women to feed their
domineering nature when it comes to holding positions higher than men," he
stated firmly.
Susan was confused. "But what about the lecture you
gave me last week on attaining my independence? If women begin obtaining key
positions formerly dominated by men, do you not agree this is a step in the
right direction?"
Benton paused for a moment. "What I told you last week
is true, but this . . . infiltration, for lack of a better term, may be a step
too far. Women should seek positions in the workforce, I support that premise,
but only as high as a position such as 'Assistant Something-or-other.' They
should not be leaders of men."
"But even as assistant, wouldn't they be leading some men?"
"The difference there is that she is still directly
answerable to a man, as opposed to being manager herself, and answerable to
some impersonal, external government or parliament, which I believe is
unhealthy for a woman. By the way, since when were you so interested in the
finer points of feminism?"
Susan blushed, but told him about the lunchtime
conversation.
"On another note," Benton continued, "There's
an article about the paranormal our professor gave us this morning. It
discusses some reasons people choose to believe in the supernatural, and
describes options more applicable to real life for those reasons. I found it
very intriguing, and I want to discuss it with you. Can you come over for
supper, and we can talk then?"
Susan hesitated. "I can't come over tonight, but
perhaps tomorrow."
"Whyever not?" Benton asked.
Susan blushed, "Hattie Pergil invited me to a
dinner-party at her house tonight."
"Hattie? The gimp?"
"Benton!"
"I'm sorry, that's just how everyone knows her."
"She is a very nice girl and I am glad to be her
friend!"
Benton turned urgently to Susan. "Will you be so glad
when she prevents you from forgetting Narnia?"
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