Beginning, Section II
Prologue
Posted on Sunday, 11 December 2005
It was the last day of the Information Week, and the new students had to make an important decision.
“Are you going to join a student club?” Muriel asked.
“I don’t know.” Lizzy replied. “I thought it might be nice, but I’m not sure which one to choose.”
“I’m thinking of joining CSA.” Muriel said.
“Really? You don’t care about the hazing then?”
“What’s two weeks of hazing compared to years of fun?”
“Well, if you put it that way...” Lizzy pondered.
“I mean, RefTA doesn’t do any hazing but they’re a bunch of losers if you ask me.”
“True. And those people at Freya are all weirdos. Well, maybe I’ll go to CSA with you.”
At that moment Lizzy’s best friend from Secondary School, Jane Adams, approached them.
“I’m going to join the Society.” she said.
Lizzy was astonished. “The Society? But they have the worst hazing in town!”
“Charles says it’s not as bad as it used to be.”
“And who is Charles?”
“He’s a Member.” Jane replied, with the right intonation. “And he’s so nice.” She blushed slightly.
Lizzy was skeptical. “Are you sure he wasn’t just chatting you up to get you to sign?”
“Why would anyone do that?!”
“From what I’ve heard, CSA and the Society compete for the highest number of new members every year.” Lizzy replied.
Muriel remarked: “I hope at least you got a lot of free beer out of him.”
Jane looked indignant. “Lizzy, would you go with me? Please?”
“Oh, what the heck. CSA, Society, same difference. I guess I’ll just check it out. Sorry, Muriel.”
“That’s okay. Have fun!”
“You too!”
Chapter 1. Down the Rabbit Hole
Lizzy and Jane were standing in front of the Society’s large building on the square, in a crowd full of anticipation. Some sour-looking people ushered them around the back, and they entered through the back door. They were ordered to put their luggage in a pile, and then for the first person to go through the door to the next room.
Nobody moved. Well, Lizzy thought, sooner or later we all have to go in. “See you.” she told Jane and she opened the door and walked through, not knowing what to expect.
Two men in suits were sitting behind a table. She noticed one was rather pudgy, and they both looked sternly at her. She walked toward the table and stopped in front of them.
“Full name?” the fat one demanded.
“Elizabeth Bennet.”
“Date of birth?”
After he had filled in all the data the other man ordered her to empty her pockets. Lizzy took out her keys, wallet and some chewing gum, and laid them out on the table. He put them in a large envelope, and when Lizzy looked mistrustful he said: “You’ll get it back.” He sealed the envelope and wrote her name on it. Then he looked up at her. “I want to remind you that you can leave anytime you want. Do you understand?”
Lizzy nodded. “Yes, I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Through that door, then turn left.” he instructed her, and she walked away.
In the next room two women were sitting behind a table.
“Take off your make-up.” one said and pointed to some cotton wads and a bottle of cleanser.
“I don’t wear make-up.” Lizzy replied.
“Remove your jewelry.” the other told her.
“I’m not wearing jewelry either.”
“That includes your watch.”
Lizzy took it off and it was put in a similar envelope.
“Walk down the stairs and go to Stanford.”
In a dimly lit basement another man dressed in a three-piece suit stood smoking a cigarette. He looked up at her entrance and pointed to a spot on the concrete floor with his cane. “Sit down. Look straight ahead.”
After she had complied with his request he strutted up and down the room for a bit. “So, you want to become a Member?” he asked suddenly.
Lizzy was already having second thoughts, but she decided to play along for a while. “Yes.”
“Yes WHAT?”
Temper, temper! she thought. Well, if you really stand on ceremony: “Yes Sir.”
“That’s not good enough!”
But then what? she thought. Your Grace? Your Holiness? “So, what do you want to hear?”
“I don’t like your insolent tone!” he barked.
A cigarette butt landed in front of her. It was forcefully crushed under a shiny black shoe. Then she heard the *click* *zip* and *ting* of an expensive lighter.
“But I’ll give you a hint: it starts with Mr.” he continued.
“Well, but I don’t know your name.”
“And what do you do when you don’t know somebody’s name?”
“I suppose you ask them.”
“So, what are you waiting for?”
Lizzy sighed. This was really childish. “What’s your name?”
“I think you ought to phrase that a bit more politely.”
Who did this guy think he was? “May I please ask your name?”
“It’s Darcy. Now was that so hard?”
There was a sound of footsteps and a burly guy appeared in the doorway. “Hello, are you Stanford?”
“Sit down!” Darcy pointed to a spot behind Lizzy and then the whole thing started again, with variations. More and more people dropped in at regular intervals and were treated to a similar welcome.
The room became quite full after a while, and lastly the four people whom Lizzy had already seen upstairs came in. The five of them wore identical black suits, the women with a short skirt.
Darcy announced them as the other members of the Introduction Committee: “Miss Bentley, Mr Howard, Miss Hurst and Mr Bingley.”
Lizzy noticed that Mr Howard, the pudgy one, was holding a glass of beer and he took a large gulp. It’s eight o’clock in the morning! she thought.
One of the sour-looking women addressed a frightened girl. “And have you learned some manners yet?”
“Yes, Miss...Miss uh.”
“Mr Darcy just told you ten seconds ago! What kind of idiot are you?”
“I don’t know, Miss...”
“Bentley.” Someone whispered, and Miss Bentley immediately turned to the culprit.
“Did I give you permission to speak?”
“No, Miss Bentley.”
“Then you keep your mouth shut! Is that understood?”
The girl nodded.
“Answer me! I just asked you a question!”
“Yes.” she whispered.
“Yes WHAT?”
“Yes, Miss Bentley.”
After the names of all the Committee members had been thoroughly imprinted on everyone’s mind Darcy ordered them to stand up and move upstairs. Lizzy managed to find Jane in the crowd and she squeezed her arm in sympathy.
“That’s Charles.” Jane whispered.
“What, Mr Bingley?”
“Yes.”
“Oh God!”
“Keep your mouths shut!” Darcy ordered. “I didn’t give you permission to speak.”
Lizzy frowned and she stole another glance at, apparently, Charles Bingley. Though looking stern now, she could easily imagine how he could be charming if he wanted to with his boyish looks. She scanned around the group and cynically wondered how many victims he had made for the cause.
They were transported a long way out of town to a densely forested area. In a clearing in the woods stood a camp with four army tents, one a bit bigger than the rest. Their luggage was in a large pile, and they were ordered to take out their own bag and quickly make their beds, the girls in one tent, the guys in the other. When Lizzy opened her rucksack she noticed it had been rummaged, and so had other people’s bags apparently.
“Where are my fags?” one girl wondered.
“My nylons!” another exclaimed.
Lizzy was only missing her alarm clock.
“Hurry up!” Miss Bentley yelled. “Pull out your sleeping bags and go back outside!”
After the last people had been gently coaxed out, Darcy addressed the crowd. “Anyone who’s wearing white socks goes back into the tent and puts on another pair.” he ordered and a few people looked puzzled. “Now!” And they ran off. Then he pointed to a blue pile. “Take an overall and write your first name on the front and back.” he said, indicating a bucket of whitewash.
They looked around for brushes.
“What are you waiting for?!”
“Uhm, where are the paint brushes, Mr Darcy?”
“Use your hands!”
Lizzy took an overall from the pile and dipped her finger in the whitewash. My real name or my nickname? she wondered. Better be sure, she thought and wrote ‘Elizabeth’ on the front and back.
“When you’re done, put your overalls on and stand in a straight line.” He indicated the location with his cane. “Lydia, wipe that stupid grin off your face! That’s not what I call a straight line! You’re slouching.” he told Victor. “Stand up straight! Jane, keep your chin up!” He was marching along the growing line, shouting adjustments here and there. “Are you waiting for the dole?” he asked a heavy guy called Glen.
“No, Mr Darcy.”
“Then take your hands out of your pockets!”
At the same time, Miss Bentley was perusing the other end of the line. “Everyone, look straight ahead!” she yelled. “And that means no glancing to the sides!” She stopped in front of a girl who looked rather sickly.
“What’s that around your neck?!”
“It’s a...a cross, Miss Bentley.” she stammered.
“You’re not allowed to wear jewelry! Take it off now!”
“But...”
“How dare you talk back to me! I said TAKE IT OFF!” And the intimidated girl complied.
A little later she stopped in front of a handsome guy, read his name, Richard, and looked him up and down like a piece of meat. “Do you like what you see, Miss Bentley?” he asked politely.
“WHAT!!! You insolent BRAT!” she yelled at him. “I didn’t give you PERMISSION to speak, and you must be incredibly STUPID not remember that. And let me tell you something, you’re NOTHING! You’re not even fit to shine my SHOES! You’re lower than a WORM! You’re even more insignificant than DUST! You’re more useless than a compass on the North Pole! You’re...”
And this went on for a while. She was quite inventive.
After the inspection Darcy announced they would go working in the forest. He divided them into groups, and they picked up tools and water bottles before marching into the woods. Lizzy and Jane’s group was led by Mr Howard, but they hardly got any opportunity to talk to each other. When they were not pulling out plants, digging out trunks or doing other forest labour, he drilled them into obedience by making them do endless push ups and shouting at them.
Lizzy looked at the ground, which was coming closer until her nose hit the dead leaves. And up again. “23, 24, 25” she counted.
“Louder!” Howard commanded. “The rest can’t hear you. You’re counting for them, not me!”
She was almost out of breath, but managed to continue in a somewhat louder voice. “26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31”
“Victor! I said nose to the ground! Are you trying to weasel out?”
“No, Mr Hurst.” Victor answered.
“It’s HOWARD, you idiot!”
After the push ups were done Howard turned to Lizzy. “Now, have you learned to keep your big mouth shut?” he asked her.
Lizzy thought that if she answered yes she would only be contradicting herself. “No, Mr Howard.”
“Then you can start all over again at 1. No, not just you, everyone.”
At last Howard announced it was lunch break and they were glad to find that that also meant a few minutes away from him. They were sitting in a circle on the ground and shared a bag of sandwiches, and Lizzy could feel some rather hostile vibes coming from the rest of the group towards her. At last Jane spoke. “Please don’t be so stubborn, Lizzy? You’re only making it harder on yourself and for everyone else too.”
“Oh, come on.” Lizzy replied. “Do you really think he needs an excuse to make us do push ups?”
Before the others had time to respond Howard called them back to work. The rest of the day consisted of pretty much the same rigorous routine, until he ordered them to pack up their tools and march back to the camp.
Before they entered the large tent they got a plate of unidentifiable grub from the cooking staff. Lizzy tried to engage them in conversation, but they paid her no attention at all and mutely scooped the plates full.
One by one they entered the tent. On two sides of the aisle stood tables and benches and on a platform at the back was a table, covered with a large tablecloth embroidered with what looked like a coat of arms. Five intricately carved chairs stood behind it, a higher one in the middle. After they had all found a place on the benches the Introduction Committee walked through the aisle to the platform and sat down, Darcy in the middle flanked by the two women. Some of the cooking staff brought them beer and lighted the candles on the high table.
“Don’t touch your food Glen!” Miss Bentley ordered. “Haven’t you learned any manners?”
First a roll call had to be conducted, which went wrong a great number of times and then had to be repeated from the top again. All the while Lizzy was watching her food cool off. When finally they got it right all the way to Z she was relieved, but the ordeal was not over yet. They had to learn a song by heart which, Darcy explained, was traditionally sung before every dinner:
Ça ça geschmauset, laßt uns nicht rappelköpfig sein!
Wer nicht mithauset, der bleibt daheim.
Edite, bibite, collegiales!
Post multa saecula pocula nulla
Post multa seacula pocula nulla
They tried to reproduce the lyrics, but got stuck in the first line already. After getting thoroughly scolded it was graciously repeated for them once more, and they got a little bit further. At least the last two lines were the same, and in the end they could more or less sing it.
“And the second stanza...” Darcy announced, and Lizzy groaned inwardly.
Der Herr Professor liest heut kein Kollegium
Drum is es better, man trinkt eins rum
Edite, bibite, collegiales!
Post multa saecula pocula nulla
Post multa seacula pocula nulla
At last their efforts were pronounced ‘barely satisfactory’ and the cooking staff entered the tent with five steaming plates for the Introduction Committee.
“Nobody starts eating before Mr Darcy does.” Miss Bentley stated.
He certainly took his time. It seemed like he was going to start eating, but then he changed his mind and put his cutlery down to drink some beer. Then he paused again to converse with Miss Hurst. Finally he took the first bite and a small sigh of relief went through the tent. Their food was cold.
“Victor! Why aren’t you eating?”
“I don’t like it, Miss Bentley.”
“You spoiled little mother’s boy! It’s about time you grew up. Now eat it!”
“Anne, you’re slouching! Sit up straight!” Darcy commanded.
After dinner Darcy held a long speech detailing the history of the Society; who had founded it and where and when, - stressing that it was, naturally, the oldest student club in town – when the Aedificium had been built, burned down and rose from its ashes again, what illustrous Society figures had done great deeds for crown and country, and how they generally employed their pride, loyalty, wit and peculiar sense of humour to dazzle their opponents, mainly ordinary citizens, other students and in particular members of CSA. In short, it was boring.
Then they were taught a most ancient song that was apparently sung to mark the entrance of the Senate, whatever that was:
Io vivat! Io vivat!
Nostrorum sanitas!
Hoc est amoris poculum
Doloris est antidotum
Io vivat! Io vivat!
Nostrorum sanitas!
Although the process of memorizing the lines was done with the usual form of didactics on the part of the Committee, Lizzy enjoyed the singing nonetheless. Many of the others struggled with the Latin or sang terribly out of tune, but after a while the cantus improved. When her voice was warmed up Lizzy even managed to hit the high note at the end of the song and hold it longer than anyone else.
After the next stanza had been imprinted on their minds as well Darcy took a gold watch out of his waistcoat-pocket. He announced that it was bedtime for them and sent them off to their tents.
“Take off your overall and shoes and get in!” yelled Miss Bentley, who had graciously escorted the girls into the tent.
“Faster!” Miss Hurst added.
“You don’t have time to change!” Miss Bentley yelled at Anne Burke, who was unpacking a nightdress. “I said take off your overall and go to bed!”
“Hurry up! And there’s no need for talking.”
When everyone was lying in their sleeping bags Miss Hurst and Miss Bentley walked out of the tent and the lights went off.
“Jane!” Lizzy whispered and poked her until she turned around. “These people are insane. Let’s get out of here.”
“No, please don’t go, Lizzy!” Jane whispered back. “I need you.” and she began to cry softly.
“Okay, don’t worry. I’ll stay.” Lizzy said, and she stroked Jane’s hair until she fell through the tunnel into wonderland, chased by a white rabbit with a golden pocket watch.
After their charges had been put to bed the Introduction Committee held a meeting.
“Have you spotted trouble yet?” Darcy asked.
“Lydia.” Miss Bentley commented. “She keeps laughing.”
“Elizabeth.” Howard said “Talks back.”
“And Richard.” Miss Hurst added. They all laughed. Nobody had to explain why Richard was trouble.
“I’ll have Lydia and Elizabeth in my group tomorrow.” Darcy decided “Caroline, could you take Richard? And don’t be shy...”
Miss Bentley smiled so diabolically that even Darcy was scared for a second. Then they divided the rest over different groups, discussed a few details and concluded the meeting.
“Oh, one last thing.” Miss Bentley said “Louisa, could you tell the cooking staff not to put so much salt in the food tomorrow?”
“Why don’t you tell them yourself?” Darcy asked.
“It’s not my responsibility, so it would hardly be proper.”
After the Committee meeting Darcy and Bingley sat smoking together in front of the staff tent.
“Jane Theresa Adams.” Darcy said. “That’s her, isn’t it?”
Bingley nodded.
“Seems like a good project. Are you sure you don’t want her in your group tomorrow, have her grovel at your feet a bit?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Okay then. But seriously, do you think she’ll make it to the end? She doesn’t seem very strong to me.”
“That’s why I told her to bring a friend.” Bingley replied.
“Smart move.”
Chapter 2: The Taming of the Shrew
Posted on Monday, 6 February 2006
Lizzy would not have needed her alarm clock, because after what felt like only a few hours of sleep the lights went on and O Fortuna from the Carmina Burana came blasting through the speakers. Miss Hurst and Miss Bentley walked into the tent and began shouting people out of bed.
“Get up everyone! Rise and shine!”
“And I mean right now! Put your shoes and overall on and make a straight line in front of the tent!”
“What part of ‘Now!’ don’t you understand?!”
Breakfast was just as relaxing as dinner last night had been.
“I told you to prepare lunch. Why don’t you do as I say?”
“I...I’m still eating, Mr Howard.” Boy Lucas replied.
“You can eat and make sandwiches at the same time. Now hurry up!”
After breakfast Darcy announced the new groups. While Lizzy was pleased to find she would not have to suffer Howard’s bad breath for another day, she doubted whether Darcy would be an improvement on the whole.
And as it turned out, her prediction had been right. His approach was even more rigorous, his discipline more strict, and his attention never wavered. If an ant sneezed he would know about it.
While he was quizzing them on data and facts from last night’s lecture another group came hopping by like kangaroos, with Bingley strolling behind. Darcy watched his group “Jane, keep your chin up!” and then addressed them all. “You’re just going to let them walk past without saying hello?! Show some Loyalty to your year!” He then proceeded to greet Bingley in a ridiculously polite manner.
Darcy looked over at his group “Do I really have to teach you common courtesies?!” and he instructed them in the proper way of greeting.
Then he ordered them to draw the Society Crest in the sand. They all looked puzzled. Nobody could remember hearing anything about that.
“You’ve been looking at it the whole of last night!” he stated. “Are you stupid?”
“I don’t think so, Mr Darcy.” Lizzy replied icily. “Or we wouldn’t be going to university.”
“If you’re so smart, then how come you don’t understand the concept of a rhetorical question?”
Lizzy was silent.
“Answer me!”
“Oh, I thought that was a rhetorical question, Mr Darcy.”
The fact that Lydia started laughing uncontrollably proved she wasn’t as stupid as she seemed. Nevertheless, everyone suffered the consequences of her outburst.
“And you!” Darcy had turned back to Lizzy. “You’d better not think at all and just do what I say! And that’s fifty push-ups for everybody, but not before every single one of you has said ‘Thanks Elizabeth.’ And look her in the eye when you say it.”
After a number of push-ups Darcy stopped in front of her and ordered her to stand up. Lizzy was puzzled. Weren’t they supposed to do all the punishments together?
“I said: Get up!” he repeated, and she climbed to her feet. “Put your foot on her back.” he said, pointing to her neighbor. In a split second Lizzy considered her options. If she refused he might do it himself, and poor Mary would probably be worse off. She silently prayed ‘I’m sorry’ and hesitantly put her foot down.
He watched the scene for a few moments and then burst out: “Are you crazy?! Stop doing that!” Lizzy quickly obeyed, completely bewildered by his change of mind.
“After everything I’ve told you about Loyalty to your year,” he ranted, “you betray them at the first opportunity!”
Lizzy was dumbfounded by his logic.
“I’m very disappointed in you.” he said coldly and dismissed them all, leaving her to feel guilty and confused.
“Look at him, prancing around the forest like he owns it.” Lizzy sneered when he was out of earshot during lunch. “With his fancy suit and his stupid cane. What are they for anyway? To whack people over the head with?”
“Of course not.” Kathleen replied. “They’re not even allowed to touch you.”
“Says who?”
“It’s a self-imposed rule: No physical contact.” she explained. “Because of some nasty stuff that happened in the past.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Last year I was a Member of the Society in another town, but I changed studies.” Kathleen said.
“But...I thought that you didn’t have to get hazed twice then?!”
“You’re right, I didn’t have to. But I discussed it with the Introduction Committee and then I decided to do it again.”
“But why?!” Lizzy couldn’t imagine a single good reason to go through hell twice, voluntarily.
Kathleen shrugged. “It’s a good way to meet people.”
Lizzy thought she preferred meeting people over coffee. “So is it much the same as over there?”
“Well, the program is of course very similar, but I think this is all a bit tame in comparison.” Kathleen admitted.
Lizzy was not a little surprised at that description. “So, then you know what’ll happen next?” she asked.
“Yes, but I’m not going to tell you. You have to experience it yourself.” she answered cryptically.
After the lunch break they marched to a different part of the woods “In a straight line! Is that a straight line?” He quizzed them on some more Society trivia, reprimanded Lydia a few times for smirking, and then told them to go clear a patch. “And watch out for the nettles.” he added.
“Those are just dead nettles, Mr Darcy.” Lizzy remarked smugly. “They don’t sting.”
“No, they’re nettles!” he replied. “And you know why? Because I say so. If I tell you that the grass is blue and the sky is green, then that’s the way it is. The sun revolves around the moon if I say so! Do you understand?”
Lizzy decided she wasn’t going to try and reason with insanity. “Yes, Mr Darcy.”
“And you need to work on that tone of yours!” he advised, and sent them off to work.
When they arrived back at the camp most of them were rather hungry, and they eagerly entered the dinner tent after receiving a plate of food. Roll call only went a bit faster this time, and so did the singing of the Ça Ça Geschmauset. This time, they managed to keep their food lukewarm.
When they were allowed to speak during dinner they furtively compared notes with people from other groups. Jane’s innocent remark that Bingley’s first name was Charles had already spread around the tent like wildfire during breakfast. Referring to him by that name amongst themselves gave them the pleasant feeling of committing a secret act of defiance.
Soon other names had begun to trickle through the grapevine. Kitty remembered that Miss Bentley’s name was Caroline. “She seemed so nice during the Information Week.” she added plaintively. And Miss Hurst’s name was something with an L, apparently. Then Boy cracked his brain around it and claimed to remember that Howard’s name was Rolf. But somehow Darcy’s first name remained the biggest secret of the Society. They decided to ask Kathleen, because Kathleen knew stuff.
“Yes, I know.” she said with an enigmatic smile. “But I’m not going to tell you. Besides, what’s the point? You’ll find out soon enough after the Inauguration. Members always call each other by their first name. Well, except at Assemblies.” she added. “And when you’re around.”
After dinner Bingley took the stage and held a long speech on propriety. He explained that the world was divided into things that were proper, such as respecting your elders, and things not proper, like wearing white socks. Naturally the latter (a whole list of them) had to be avoided at all costs by any self-respecting Member, and were subject of much ridicule in poor ignorami. He dwelled extensively on the rights of seniority and the merits of strict hierarchy, which they, the lowest of the lowest, would learn to appreciate in time.
He then explained the concept of the mos, an unwritten rule or tradition, and stressed how terribly important they were nonetheless. He summed up a long row of mores concerning everything from the running of the Aedificium to the rites surrounding the annual Gala Ball. And while they were mostly rather interesting, some even downright bizarre, Lizzy despaired at the thought of having to memorize them all. It was just impossible.
After the lecture they were severely reprimanded for remembering very little of last night’s Io Vivat. Lizzy’s voice could be clearly heard amongst the mangled Latin, and this drew the attention of the Committee. Darcy made her come forward. “If she can do it, then why can’t you?” he asked the rest, and he ordered her to sing it to them. When they had all memorized Io Vivat once more he announced another song, which was to be sung at the exit of the most distinguished Senate.
Societas studiosorum!
Vivant membra atque senatus
Excolimus nostros mores
Historiamque plenam gloriae!
After they were ushered into bed Lizzy lay awake for some time. She had decided earlier to observe Bingley’s behaviour to Jane closely, for as much as that was possible, to find out what his intentions might be. From what she’d seen so far it seemed like he avoided Jane as much as possible, and she had not caught him speaking even two words to her. Paradoxically that seemed like a good sign. I mean, how can you ever see eye to eye again with someone who hazed you? she pondered.
Meanwhile in the large tent the IC meeting was taking place.
“I’ll take trouble tomorrow.” Miss Bentley offered.
“What, all of them?” Darcy asked.
“You think I can’t handle that?”
“I’m sure you can.”
And while he had done nothing more than imply she could be a rather unpleasant sort of person, to put it mildly, Miss Bentley chose to consider that as a compliment.
Darcy and Bingley smoked another cigarette together after the meeting.
“It’s so funny how they take everything you say seriously.” the latter remarked.
“So did we.” Darcy replied, and they smiled in reminiscence.
For Lizzy and the rest of her year it was hard to keep any idea of time in the absence of watches and clocks. One thing they knew for sure though was that they got very little sleep. The next morning featured the same routine of loud music and yelling, followed by a hurried breakfast. After getting assigned to Miss Bentley’s group, Lizzy philosophically pondered that things could hardly get any worse than yesterday.
After they had marched into the woods Miss Bentley quizzed them on mores and tried to get to know them a bit better, in her own special way. “What’s so funny, Lydia?”
“Nothing, Miss Bentley.”
“Then wipe that smirk off your face.”
“Yes, Miss Bentley.”
“Do you have a boyfriend?” she asked Kitty.
“Yes, Miss Bentley.”
“What’s his name?”
“Simon, Miss Bentley.”
“And do you do everything Simon says?”
“Uh no, Miss Bentley.”
“Then how did you manage to graduate from kindergarten?”
Kitty didn’t quite know what to say.
“Answer me!”
“I...I don’t know, Miss Bentley.”
“Well, I suppose the curriculum wasn’t up to standards in your part of town.” She turned to Lizzy. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No, Miss Bentley.”
“Why not?”
Lizzy thought about George. “We decided to split up, Miss Bentley.”
“You mean he dumped you. Well, who can blame the poor guy?”
A little later, Lizzy was struggling with a sapling that obviously wanted to stay where it was. She soon found out that cursing at it didn’t really work. “Can I borrow that shovel?” she asked Richard.
He came over to her. “I’ll give you a hand.” he said. “You pull and I’ll hack the roots, okay?” And so they did, but it was still hard work because some of them were rather thick.
Richard sighed. “I wish I had an axe.”
“Me too.” Lizzy replied. “But for a different reason.” And she glanced over her shoulder.
He smiled. “A dangerous woman! I’ll have to remember that.” He looked at her overall. “Elizabeth.”
“Oh, just Lizzy. Lizzy Bennet.”
“I’m Richard Fitzwilliam. Nice to meet you.”
At last they managed to uproot the sapling, and with a last big tug Lizzy pulled it out of the ground. “Poor thing!” she remarked, looking at the mutilated tree in her hand.
Richard laughed. “It’s pretty useless now.”
“Well, I bet if I took it home and replanted it, it would start growing again.”
“I see people talking and not working!” Miss Bentley shouted, and they silently continued their job.
Miss Bentley was very eager to become better acquainted with them.
“What does your father do?” she asked Richard.
“He’s a diplomat, Miss Bentley.” he replied.
“Too bad you didn’t inherit any of his talent for diplomacy then.” And so she moved along the line, asking the same question, until she came to Lizzy.
“Where does your father work?”
“He’s dead, Miss Bentley.” she stated.
She didn’t have a reply to that.
“I’m sorry to hear about your father.” Anne said softly during lunch break.
“Oh, he’s not dead.” Lizzy laughed. “Like I’m going to tell Bentley the truth.” she said casually. “It’s none of her business what my dad does.”
The rest of the group was shocked at her audacity.
“What?” Lizzy asked, looking at the staring faces. “He’s a petrochemical engineer, so what?” To break the uncomfortable silence that followed she asked: “So uhm, why do you want to join the Society?”
“To party!” Glen stated decidedly.
“All the hot guys are in the Society.” was Lydia’s main consideration.
“I’m going to try to get into the band.” Mary told them. “They’re one of the best.”
“My parents were both Members.” Richard said, as if that explained everything.
“I want to tap into the Old Boys Network.” Victor stated. “Anyone who’s anything was in the Society.”
“And if you get into the Senate it looks really good on your resume.” Kathleen added.
“Cheap lager.” A burly guy called Boy Lucas concluded.
Lizzy was munching on a sandwich. “So about the Old Boys Network, is that really true?” she asked Kathleen, who was sitting next to her.
“Well, in the old days it really was an elite club.” Kathleen replied. “And it’s still full of old money, aristocracy, Royals even.”
“The Royal Family?” Glen wondered. “Did they get hazed as well?”
“You bet.” Kathleen grinned. “But well, these days anyone can join, and you can wash a blue collar white in one generation.”
Meanwhile the others were discussing who was worse: Darcy or Bentley.
Lizzy voted for Darcy. “The guy seems obsessed with all things straight.” she observed. “Maybe he’s in denial.”
The others laughed, Lydia was choking on her sandwich and Richard turned crimson.
“Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” she added.
“Drink up!” Miss Bentley decreed. “Ad fundum!”
Lizzy sputtered and coughed. It wasn’t easy to drink a whole bottle of water in one go, lying on her back. It was just a trick, someone had told her once. Something you could learn. She tried again, concentrating hard, but that only made her choke faster. The guys seemed to do a lot better in general. She decided to ask Richard for some tips, but she didn’t get another chance to speak to him that day.
When another lukewarm dinner was finished Miss Hurst took the stand and talked about the importance of the Society Houses. “Whilst other students have to spend their days in dreary flats, you’ll get a chance to inhabit some of the finest historic buildings in the city center. The Society has many different Houses: some are men only, some are women’s Houses and others are mixed. They range from very small to large, and each has its own particular culture and traditions.” She explained that rooms became available during the year, and how they might be honoured with an invitation to move into a certain House. “You will live closely together with Housemates from different years, and they will help you form you character and become a well-respected Member.” And she droned on and on about the particulars.
After repeating the other songs, they learned yet another one.
Eia cantemus sodales carmen eloquentiae
Cui studemus nos amici fervida cupidine
Namque magnis semper alis mabitur facundia
Vivat ergat fiat nobis nobilis sodalitas
I’m doing this for Jane, Lizzy reminded herself when she lay in her sleeping bag. She didn’t like to admit that perhaps she wanted to prove something to herself too. But it was difficult to think objectively when living in an information vacuum. She realized the next world war could break out and they wouldn’t know about it. They never saw anyone but the Introduction Committee and the mute cooking staff, who ran around the forest with errands, beer, cigarettes and hot snacks for the IC members. But she was too tired to consider anything else, so she decided to clear her mind and try to fall asleep.
“Where is Louisa?” Darcy was eager to start the meeting. “And what’s keeping Ralph?”
“Do you have to ask?” Miss Bentley remarked, when suddenly her phone rang. She looked at the display. “It’s my main sponsor.” she said apologetically and took the call. “Hi dad.” she said. “No, I’m not partying.” She quickly put down her beer. “I’m doing Committee work.” She started to walk out of the tent. “So I have a chance to get into the Senate, you know.” she whispered. She looked annoyed at his contemptuous reply. “But dad, you studied Medicine. That’s different.” she protested. “I’ve told you why this is important to me.”
She languidly paced up and down in front of the tent, bored with his story. “Yes, I know in your days, you had to work hard and sacrifice bladiebla. But the Society is...” (…) “No, they’re not!” She listened to a long speech with sour looks. “I know daddy, but I’ll need some money first to buy books.” she said with a honey voice. “Yes, I promise,” she replied, crossing her fingers behind her back. “Thanks, you’re a darling! And say hi to mum.” (…) “What? Oh, I forgot you’re divorced.” (…) “Well, grab a tissue. Bye.”
She walked back in just as Bingley was concluding the weather report: “So it will be quite hot tomorrow.”
“One extra liter of water per person” Darcy decreed. “And make sure they drink it all.”
After the meeting Bingley and Darcy were quietly enjoying a cigarette when Miss Bentley approached them. “Guess what I found out today!” she said conspiratorially. “Jane’s father works as a cashier at the -- -- Bank.” She smiled at Bingley. “Maybe you can ask Fitzwilliam to give him a raise.”
Darcy was in no mood to explain that he didn’t own the bank. Yet.
“She is a very sweet girl, Jane.” Miss Bentley continued. “Too bad she smells of working class.”
“I like to believe that in the Society everyone is judged on their personal merits, regardless of what their parents do.” Darcy retorted. “Besides, how far can you trace back your noble lineage?”
“Oh, would you look at the time!” Miss Bentley exclaimed. “Gotta go.”
“Thanks, mate.” Bingley said.
“Well, if you really like her, what does it matter who her parents are?”
“No, I mean...you see...my dad’s a gas fitter.” Bingley blurted out.
In the uncomfortable silence that followed both wondered why this had never come up before in all the time of their friendship.
“So that’s why they never come to visit?” Darcy finally asked.
Bingley looked at the ground. “I thought...the guys would laugh at them behind my back.”
Darcy didn’t see any point in denying that they would, but because it’s not very pleasant to think about your best mates that way they quickly changed the subject.
Chapter 3. A Few Good Men
Posted on Wednesday, 15 March 2006
“Oh hell! Why him again?” Lizzy whispered to Kathleen on their way to the forest, when she thought Darcy wasn’t looking. But of course he was. After a number of push ups he sent them off to work and she finally got an answer.
“It’s because you’re trouble.” Kathleen said knowingly. “Maybe if you keep a low profile they’ll put you in Bingley’s group tomorrow.”
Not that that was such a party, but there was general consensus that the others were worse. And although it went against her very grain to behave, Lizzy thought she might try laying low for a while. Her resolve would soon be tested.
“Is that a straight line? What’s so funny, Lydia?”
“I’m sorry, Mr Darcy.”
“I asked you WHY!”
“Uh nothing, Mr Darcy.”
“Answer me! Or you will all feel the consequences.”
“Well, Elizabeth said...”
“Nothing.” Lizzy interjected, thinking: you imbecile!
He immediately turned to her. “What did you say EXACTLY?”
Lizzy defiantly looked at him. “I pointed out how you seem to find it very important that everything is straight, Mr Darcy.”
Their eyes locked in a fierce staring contest. I’ll show you straight! he thought, but quickly banished the mental image.
“Well, I’m glad we got that straight.” he said, and Lydia made a sputtering noise. “That’s twenty push ups for everyone! Straight away.” he continued. “Lydia, wipe that grimace off your face! Another twenty push ups. You still can’t keep a straight face?”
While thus athletically occupied on the forest ground Lizzy watched a pair of black shoes and a cane stop in front of her.
“Sing something, nightingale.” he mocked.
Lizzy was silent. It would be presumptuous to respond to that appellation.
“Elizabeth, get up!”
She crawled up with as much dignity as she could muster and stood tall.
“You know why I call you nightingale, don’t you?” he sneered.
This is a trick question, Lizzy realized. I’m either arrogant or stupid. “Because I sing, Mr Darcy.”
“No, because you’re ugly.”
Lizzy twitched. Then she cursed herself and pulled a poker face.
“And that’s another twenty push ups for standing up and deserting your group.” he added.
She took some comfort in the fact that she had obviously managed to seriously piss him off. She was careful not to smile though.
After lunch Darcy’s group worked close to the edge of the forest, and across the fields Lizzy could see a large mansion in scaffolding. Suddenly she distinguished two well-dressed men coming from that direction, approaching them. A little later it seemed that Darcy had noticed them too, and he walked toward Bingley and discussed something pointing to their group. Then he joined the two middle-aged men, and Lizzy thought he bore a striking resemblance to one of them.
She suddenly felt the uncontrollable urge to do something she wasn’t supposed to do, and furtively looked around. Bingley was occupied peeking through his binoculars at another group, and she quickly ran to some bushes and rolled under them, just before the three men passed by on the other side.
“...nothing like it was in the good old days, eh Darcy?”
“I trust my son is doing a fine job.”
“Yes, I hear you’re heading the Introduction Committee this year, boy?” Lizzy stifled a laugh at the address. The same voice continued: “That is of course an excellent way to distinguish yourself. Just like my little Catherine.”
“Yes, I like to think he’s on his way to great prominence. And I trust you will remind your little Catherine to make an informed choice.”
“Well, that is to say...”
“I think it’s about time I got something in return for my investments. You wouldn’t want this whole facade to crumble, would you?”
Lizzy felt sure he wasn’t just talking bricks. The men were now out of earshot, so she sneaked back to her group and continued with the work. However, she couldn’t stop thinking about what she had overheard. It was obviously a nasty attempt at blackmailing, but she didn’t quite understand what it was about. Who’s Catherine? And what is great prominence?
That night Miss Bentley took the stage and talked of the distinguished Senate with great reverence. “Five Members,” she stated solemnly, “are entrusted with the honour of presiding over and representing the Society. For one year they give up all other occupations to devote themselves fully to their elevated task.” She then listed the currents Senators and their respective positions:
Praeses: Miss De Bourgh
Assessor: Mr Collins
Fiscus: Mr Carlisle
Secretaris: Miss Helstrom
Commissaris: Mr Morton
“At the end of their Senate year the Praeses chooses a worthy successor, who then forms a new Senate around him or her.”
I wonder if they’ve ever heard of democracy, Lizzy thought, while Miss Bentley rambled on about all the qualities one must possess to be eligible for such a high-ranking position.
Then they learned another most ancient song.
Gaudeamus igitur, iuvenes dum sumus!
Post iuncundam iuventutem
Post molestam senectutem
Nos habebit humus
Vivat Academia, vivant Professores!
Vivat membrum quodlibet
Vivant membra quaelibet
Vivant senatores!
Lizzy sighed with relief when they were finally dismissed.
Darcy looked at his watch. He wanted to begin the meeting. “Where is Ralph? And...Oh hell!”
“It’s a good way to relieve stress.” Miss Bentley remarked. “Perhaps you should try it.” she added suggestively.
Darcy sighed. How it hurt to be pretty.
He was unpleasantly reminded of his remark to Elizabeth that day. It wasn’t like him to get this personal. She was getting under his skin more than he’d like to admit, and he felt he was losing his grip. “Caroline, could you take trouble tomorrow?”
“But of course!” she replied eagerly. She was always willing to do him a favour. Any kind of favour.
Bingley read the weather report: “It looks like it’s going to rain tomorrow.”
Darcy slowly removed his cigarette. “Excellent.”
Lizzy lay in bed pondering. They had become so close as a year in the last few days that staying for Jane was just an excuse now. She would make it without her, and Lizzy seriously considered leaving. But it would look a lot like admitting defeat, and that was something she wasn’t prepared to face.
After what seemed like an even shorter time than usual they were dragged out of bed. Unlike previous days, it was still dark when Lizzy marched out of the tent. They quickly formed a line of drowsy eyes and sleepy faces.
After a thorough inspection Darcy announced that the Senate had condescended to pay them a visit, and that they should be given a proper welcome. He ordered them to stand alongside the entrance lane to the camp a short distance from each other, holding a candle. When the last one was lit the effect was truly impressive. They waited for a considerable time, trying to shelter the flame from the breeze with one hand and holding the candle as steady as possible with the other, to avoid hot wax dripping on their hand.
At last a sound could be heard in the distance, and moments later a horse-drawn carriage emerged from the night like a ghost from the past. The dark equipage rushed past them, sending all the flames in a flutter, and came to a stop at the camp.
Lizzy realized she should start breathing again when Darcy told them to go back to their sleeping tents. They were granted only a short rest till morning call.
Lizzy felt extremely tired. I’d like to rest my head, she thought and stifled a yawn while Miss Bentley decreed they were to impersonate a statue.
Mary chose to be Liberty.
“How presumptuous!” Miss Bentley remarked.
Jane pulled in her sleeves and was Venus de Milo.
“You’re vain and arrogant, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Miss Bentley.”
Richard had made himself comfortable on the forest ground.
“And what are you supposed to be?”
“Sleeping Beauty, Miss Bentley.”
“Don’t laugh, Lydia! Everybody does twenty push ups thanks to you.”
Then she turned back to Richard. “And since when is that a statue?”
“Well it lies there in Disneyland, Miss Bentley.” he explained.
“I think this tree branch would make a much more attractive Sleeping Beauty.” She threw him a calculating look. “And you can play the Prince.”
Then she turned to Lizzy. “Why haven’t you thought of something yet? Are you stupid?!”
“This is Le Penseur by Rodin, Miss Bentley.”
There was a short silence. “Don’t give me cheek! Do twenty push ups!”
After they had resumed their positions Miss Bentley sat on a trunk and smoked a cigarette. And another one. Lizzy stole a glance at Richard who stood bent over the branch in mid-air, poised for the kiss. His back must be killing him, she thought.
“Mary! Did I give you permission to lower your arm?”
“No, Miss Bentley, but it hurts.” Liberty complained.
“Every time you change arms the others do twenty push-ups.”
Meanwhile it had begun to drizzle, making their situation even more deplorable. At first the trees afforded some shelter, but after a while the rain penetrated the foliage and started to drip down on them. Just in time a member of the cooking staff came running by to hand Miss Bentley a large black umbrella with a small Society crest on it.
After they had been at work in the forest for only a short time, Miss Bentley suddenly called them back. The Senate was coming to inspect their progress, armed with large black umbrellas (with a small Society crest on them). Lizzy and her group stood at attention and sang a few songs, while the members of the Senate ventured to look as disapproving as possible. Rain trickled down Lizzy’s face, and she thought they might have ordered it especially to enhance the dramatic effect.
“I know her!” Lydia whispered loudly while they were back at work.
“Who?”
“Miss De Bourgh. I swear I talked to her during the Information Week.”
“So, what’s her name then?” the others wanted to know. They were collecting Senators’ first names now.
Lydia looked at the sky. “Argh! I don’t remember.”
Lizzy thought she could care less, and continued her assault of an undesirable sapling. “You’re just in the wrong place, at the wrong time.” she told the unfortunate youngster.
“Catherine!” Lydia exclaimed suddenly, and they immediately started shushing her. Too late, Miss Bentley was already coming over to discipline them.
Meanwhile, pieces slowly started to fall into place in Lizzy’s head. My little Catherine floated through her mind. Was that her father? And what did Darcy want her to do again? Make an informed choice she remembered, whatever that meant. Then Miss Bentley’s words on Senate succession came back to her, and realization dawned. So Darcy was not man enough to make it on his own; he had to make his dad bribe someone to become Praeses! Loser.
After another eventful dinner Howard informed them about the drama club, the band, and various other Society activities to distract them from their studies. Lizzy suddenly realized she had seen him before; he was the trumpet player of the Society band, whom she had watched perform during the Information Week. It helped to see things in perspective.
Then Darcy announced that the Senate would address them, and told them to stand up. “Show them the proper respect. And remember never to turn your back on the Senate.”
They stood still and waited. Then, at the moment that she deemed proper Miss De Bourgh strode in, followed by her loyal minions. There was an eerie silence. After progressing about halfway along the aisle she turned around and walked out again, to everyone’s amazement.
“You idiots!” Darcy exclaimed after they had left the tent. “You have gravely insulted the Senate!”
How? Lizzy wondered. We didn’t do anything!
“Even after I specifically told you to show them the respect they deserve.” he continued. “Are you all so dense, that nobody remembered how to greet the Senate properly?”
Staring faces were the only reply.
“So are you?” he repeated, addressing a random victim.
“Yes, Mr Darcy.” Glen replied.
“What are you?”
“We are dense, Mr Darcy.”
“Well, at least you don’t lack introspection.” he mocked. “Now, do I really have to spell everything out for you? What do you do when the Senate enters?”
Nobody answered. Lizzy tried to recall what they had been taught on protocol, but nothing came to mind.
“Of course I told you, but apparently you just forgot! Didn’t think it was important, did you?” he sneered. “Now, for the last time, what do you SING when the Senate comes in?” he asked, turning to Mary.
“Gaudeamus, Mr Darcy?” she replied with a quivering voice.
“No! Of course not.” He turned to the next one.
“Societas Studiosorum, Mr Darcy?” Victor tried.
“Yes, if you want them to leave! Societas Studiosorum is sung at the DEPARTURE of the Senate.”
Suddenly a light went on in Lizzy’s head. “Io Vivat, Mr Darcy.” she said loudly.
“It took you an awful long time to figure that out.” he replied, and then addressed them all. “Well, I’ll see if I can intervene on your behalf and entreat the Senate to give you another chance, although I’m sure you don’t deserve it.” And he left the tent.
Apparently his skills of persuasion were great indeed, because the affronted Senators made another entrance shortly afterwards. This time, they were properly welcomed by a chorus of Io Vivat.
Miss De Bourgh climbed the stage in a most dignified manner, and visibly cringed at the last high note. She let her disapproving eye wander over the crowd, and everyone held their breath.
“I am most seriously displeased!” she stated at last. “I do not think it possible that Mr Darcy and his Committee could have bestowed their precious time and attention on a more ungrateful bunch.” She kindly pointed out how they had brought disgrace on themselves, had disappointed the Committee, and how they would disgrace the Society if they did not start applying themselves in earnest.
She talked like gunfire, and when she had finally ceased and began to walk out of the tent Lizzy was too stunned to think. Thankfully Richard had the presence of mind to start singing Societas Studiosorum, and the others joined in.
After the Senate’s departure the men smoked a cigarette together.
“I think they were pleased.” Darcy stated.
“Yes, we did a good job.” Howard agreed. “And if you keep distinguishing yourself you could be well on your way to great prominence.” he told Darcy, who made no reply.
“I think Catherine expects some more commitment from you.” Bingley remarked.
“She’s my second cousin!” Darcy exclaimed.
“So what? It’s not like it’s illegal.” Bingley retorted. “Look, she’s hot, she wants your arse and she can hand you supreme power, what’s not to like?” He grinned. “Besides, there’s nothing sexier than a woman you have to salute in the morning.”
“You’d better watch out with the black widow.” Howard advised, and he went to get another beer.
“Is he serious?” Bingley wondered. “I mean, it was an overdose, right?”
“Isn’t it a bit of a coincidence that Lewis wanted to break up with her?”
Bingley stared at him in disbelief.
“But keep it in the house.” Darcy added.
“Of course.”
The next day they worked in a large clearing in the woods with all of the groups. Bingley and Darcy were surveying the work and talking when Miss Bentley attached herself to them.
Darcy looked slightly irritated. “Bingley, piwo?” he asked.
“Tak tak” was the reply.
Miss Bentley pretended to understand what they were saying, but she really was as clueless as everyone else.
“Piwo Okocim?” Darcy inquired.
She deemed it better to leave, which of course had been their intention.
“Nie! Nie! Piwo...” Bingley made a few handgestures. “Piwo.” He looked around and saw that Miss Bentley was out of earshot. “I’ll get it.”
When Bingley returned with two beers Darcy thanked him “Dziekuje” and turned to his group: “Of course everybody knows what language that was. Kathleen?”
“Uhm...Swedish, Mr Darcy?”
“No. Mary?”
“Greek, Mr Darcy?”
“Of course not! Boy?”
“Czech, Mr Darcy?”
“No. Elizabeth?”
“Pythonesque.”
Darcy appeared to be choking on his beer. Bingley quickly said: “Close your eyes and put your fingers in your ears.”
After what seemed like ages in a void they were ordered back to work. “And it was Polish of course.” Bingley added.
After lunch all the groups gathered to hear a speech. Darcy told them of the importance of a Year Song to promote unity and loyalty amongst them, and announced they would be composing their own.
Not in Latin, I hope? Lizzy thought.
To give them some idea, The Committee Members sang their Year Song, followed by some of the cooking staff who came of the woodwork for the occasion. Though using different melodies, they all basically came down to:
We’re the greatest year,
And we drink a lot of beer.
Then they were sent off to work on a song of their own in their respective groups.
“We need a catchy tune.” Lydia decreed.
“The Marseillaise?” Lizzy suggested.
“Too long.” the others opposed. In the end they settled for Wild Rover, and Mary immediately began spurting out lyrics like an entranced oracle. The rest just stared and let her, offering some suggestions now and then until the song was finished. Then they practiced it a few times, putting extra emphasis on the chorus:
And we stand together, now, forever and more!
And this year will be greater than any before.
“Not bad.” Darcy remarked. “Except for the last line. What about the years after you?”
They hadn’t thought of that.
“And don’t use the future tense.” he continued. “It’ll sound stupid in a few years time.”
So they went back and changed it, and it turned out so well that it beat the other groups’ songs in the vote. Mary glowed with pride that she had distinguished herself by composing their Year Song. Then they practiced it with great enthusiasm until everyone had it memorized.
At the end of the work day Darcy’s group marched to a spot where yesterday’s rain had turned a large part of the dirt road into pools of mud. The rest were already there, crawling through it on their stomachs one after the other. They watched Howard hold out his cane close to the ground to make sure they got in deep enough.
The second group was Miss Hurst’s. “Kitty, put your face down!” she yelled. “It’ll do wonders for your freckles.”
“More to the left, Victor!” Miss Bentley shouted. “Don’t try to weasel out!”
Next up was Bingley’s group, who livened up their ordeal with a rendition of ‘Always Look on the Bright Side of Life.’
They had already started buttoning up their overalls as high as possible when Darcy turned to his group. “You don’t have to do it.” he said casually. “You worked hard today, unlike the rest.”
They stared in disbelief at their good fortune. It just seemed too good to be true. And of course it was. By this time they knew better than to believe him. It would be disloyal not to share their year’s sordid fate, so one by one they got down and crawled through six inches of mud. He didn’t say a word.
That night dinner was worse than ever. They hardly got to eat any spaghetti; instead it ended up in their hair, on the ground and in their clothes. It seemed Darcy had made it his personal project to taunt Lizzy and her neighbours, as they were constantly subjected to endless shouting, insults and demeaning tasks. She stealthily peeked across at the other table, where Richard was receiving the same treatment from Miss Bentley. The latter then turned to Anne and started shouting down at her. At one point Richard stood up. “Leave her alone!” he told Miss Bentley. “Can’t you see that she’s crying?”
“Are you looking for trouble?” Miss Bentley threatened. “Sit down right now!”
But he flatly refused.
The tension was mounting, and suddenly Lizzy knew that no matter what the consequences, she was going to stand up for Richard. “He’s right Anne! If you don’t want to, don’t do it!”
“Elizabeth!” Darcy barked. “Sit down and shut up!”
“No, you shut up!” she yelled back in a reflex. There was some nervous giggling, and the Committee had to fight the spreading plague with much shouting.
Richard sent her a killer smile and addressed the crowd: “We don’t have to take this! What about Loyalty?”
“Loyalty!” a few other people shouted back and defiantly stood up as well. The Committee seemed to be losing control over the situation quickly as the number of dissidents grew.
“And we stand together...!” Richard chanted.
“...now, forever and more!” the crowd answered. One by one they stood up and started chanting, talking back, singing and shouting their throats hoarse with war cries, while Richard was standing on the table directing his troops.
“Richard! Come down right now!” Miss Bentley shouted in vain.
Kathleen picked up a meatball and threw it in her face, and complete pandemonium broke out instantly in which the Committee was thoroughly spaghettio-ed. They fled the tent, and victory was sweet.
Author Notes:
Piwo means beer, Tak/Nie: Yes/No, and Okocim is a Polish beer brand.
Chapter 4. A Descent into the Maelstrom
Posted on Tuesday, 16 May 2006
They sang, cheered and hugged each other, feeling truly unified for the first time. After a while the euphoria died down a little and they became more quiet. Some sat down and started chatting, others yawned with fatigue after all the excitement. Now what?
Then, to everyone’s amazement, Darcy strolled right into the lion’s den. Without his jacket and waistcoat he looked rather casual, and his white shirt worked as a kind of peace flag. A couple of them did look ready to rip his throat, but most of the year just stared at him with real curiosity and started whispering. He sauntered up the aisle and nonchalantly leaned against the High Table. Lizzy noticed his clothes looked remarkably clean, but she had no time to contemplate the bright miracle.
He silenced the room with a look. Then he started speaking. “You have showed great Loyalty as a year by standing together as one. I’m proud of you.”
Even if she’d had no idea what he was going to say, praise was the last thing she’d expected.
“You are now ready to face other challenges together.” he continued. “However, before that you will have to finish the rest of the work tomorrow. It would reflect badly on the Society if you didn’t. But tonight is yours, and you can do whatever you want for the rest of the evening. You’ve earned it.”
And with that, he walked out of the tent again, leaving an astonished year. As soon as he was gone they started to discuss what happened. It all seemed too confusing. Still, they felt an overwhelming sense of unity and pride, and they all joined in a couple of enthusiastic renditions of their year song.
Although they enjoyed doing whatever they wanted without supervision for a change, they soon realized there wasn’t an awful lot they could actually do in that tent. They were mostly just tired, and a large number decided to leave for bed. Not knowing what to expect outside the safety of their tent, they cautiously moved out as a group.
To their surprise, the cooking staff were there waiting for them with a hot snack, which was very considerate of them. They were still as mute as ever though.
The next day they finished the last work in the forest, cleaned the tools and did other odd jobs. Discipline was much more lax, and they were allowed to talk a little. They even got to ask questions.
“Where are we, Mr Darcy?” Glen boldly asked.
“Good question. This is Rosings Park, the estate of Walter de Bourgh, Earl of Rosings. In fact, you’ll get a chance to meet him later today to express your gratitude for his hospitality.”
As if all that free labour wasn’t enough, Lizzy thought cynically.
“So, is he related to Miss De Bourgh, Mr Darcy?” Kitty wanted to know.
“Yes, he is her father.”
Victor looked up. “So does that mean she’s uhm…?”
“Did you ever doubt that she was a Lady?” Miss Bentley snidely remarked.
Lizzy asked Bingley why they had been talking in Polish.
“Last Christmas we went skiing in Zakopane with our house.” he explained. “It’s been all the fashion since.”
“So why are all the songs in Latin, Mr Darcy?” Lydia asked.
“Because it’s always been that way.” Darcy replied. He even made it sound like a legitimate reason. They found that this was a reply they would often get when asking any question as to why, relating to the Society.
Then Victor ventured to ask a more practical question, which had probably been weighing on his mind for some time: “If not white, what colour should our socks be, Mr Darcy?”
“Any dark colour that doesn’t clash with your shoes and trousers.” he replied seriously.
“Though nothing is as proper as Society socks.” Bingley added, and showed them his: black with a pattern of tiny Society crests on them.
Boy was desperate to know when they would be getting any lager.
“We drink beer at the Society.” Bingley answered. “Lager is for hooligans. I never want to hear that word again!”
“Unless you’re referring to the dormitory of a mountain hut.” Darcy added.
“Of course, then it is quite proper.” Bingley decreed. “And to answer your question: soon.”
After taking down the tents they crawled across the clearing in a long line to pick up any bits of litter; mainly cigarette butts.
“I’d kill for a fag right now.” Richard told her.
She had not realized before how the withdrawal must be additional torture for the smokers, especially with the Committee lighting fags under their noses non-stop.
After the area was cleared to the satisfaction of Miss Bentley she led them trough the woods and across the fields in the direction of the great mansion.
“That was a great shot with that meatball last night.” Lizzy told Kathleen on the way.
She grinned. “Yes, I couldn’t wait for it to start.”
“But?” She was slightly puzzled. “How did you know that was going to happen?”
Kathleen shrugged. “There’s a revolt every year. It’s part of the program.”
Lizzy thought her world couldn’t get any more insane.
“It took you an awful long time though, last night.” she continued. “We didn’t put up with half as much crap.”
Lizzy was astonished. “So, we’re just, like…a bunch of lemmings?”
Kathleen looked pensive for a moment. “Well, not you. You did great. They’ll remember your name. And Richard is on his way to great prominence.”
Lizzy smiled. Yes, it appeared he was a born leader.
“I think he likes you.” Kathleen continued. “Now, if you play your cards right you may find yourself Assessor in his Senate.”
You’re kidding, right? Lizzy thought. “And what if I want to be Praeses?” she joked.
“Then you should screw Darcy.”
Meanwhile, at the back of his mansion Lord Rosings and Darcy were sitting on a raised terrace in comfortable club chairs, smoking cigars.
I’d love to know what they’re talking about, Lizzy thought as they filed into neat rows on the lawn.
“Wouldn’t you agree that Catherine is looking particularly fine lately?” Lord Rosings inquired, thinking: Why don’t you marry her and settle all my debts?
I’d rather take arsenic, Darcy thought. “I believe she looks much the same as ever.” he replied.
On the immaculate lawn Lizzy and her year waited for Miss Bentley’s sign to begin the serenade in Lord Rosing’s honour. They started with Gaudeamus, followed by Societas Studiosorum and the national anthem in 16th century spelling (the only proper version). All the rigorous singing practice had certainly paid off, and it earned them a magnanimous nod from his Lordship.
Darcy slowly removed his cigar. “Elizabeth, Io Vivat” he ordered.
Apart from resenting that she was being used as a trick monkey, Lizzy didn’t mind that much. A whole week of incessant training had given her the confidence to perform outside of the shower. Now that her voice was warm her range was much higher than she had imagined possible before, so she started off at a high pitch. With the lyrics chiseled into her memory she could focus on her breathing, and she proudly pulled off a clear rendition.
“.... nostrorum sani-”
Then, at the last and highest note, her voice cracked from over-exertion. She managed to hide her embarrassment with a poker face, yet secretly wished the ground would swallow her. After they were dismissed the others shared sympathetic looks with her. Still, Lizzy felt she had let them down.
Jane tried to comfort her on the way back. “It still sounded really good.”
“I hate him!” she whispered hoarsely, before Jane told her to give her voice some rest.
She would have been comforted to know that back on the terrace, Darcy hated him too.
Back at the clearing they stacked up their luggage under Miss Bentley’s supervision. After they were finished Darcy and Bingley reappeared, wearing old and tattered suit jackets instead of their usual impeccable outfits.
Darcy addressed them. “At the Society, disagreements are settled in a special way. It’s called messing, and Mr Bingley has kindly agreed to assist me for this demonstration.” They both straightened their jackets and faced each other.
Darcy turned to the group. “Now, imagine that Mr Bingley has insulted me in some way...”
“You wear white socks.” Bingley supplied helpfully.
Darcy immediately grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket, and Bingley did the same. Lizzy watched in great wonder and amusement as they wrestled each other in a peculiar manner. By tugging at the lapels each tried to drag the other down, and she suddenly understood why their jackets were in such a deplorable state. They were obviously a well-matched pair, and for a considerable time neither one seemed to be winning.
Then Darcy made a clever move to bring his opponent off-balance, and managed to floor him. “Then you help them up again.” he said, and offered Bingley a hand to pull him up. “And whatever the issue was, you never mention it again.” And they amicably slapped each other on the back.
Darcy then looked sternly at the group. “Some things that are NOT allowed: pulling ties, kicking below the belt, karate moves,” he turned to the girls “or scratching, biting and pulling hair. Just honest, clean messing. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Mr Darcy.” they answered in one voice.
”So, choose a partner and give it a try.”
Lizzy and Jane hesitantly took hold of each other’s overall collars, and started pulling around a bit. Since Jane was a featherweight, it didn’t take much for Lizzy to floor her. Just as she was helping her up they heard a muffled cry. They looked around and saw Anne lying on her back in the grass with Glen standing beside her, looking rather smug. Miss Hurst rushed to her side to make sure she was okay.
“That’s too rough, Glen!” Darcy shouted. “And what did I say about picking people up?”
Richard immediately stepped in to teach Glen some manners. Using his weight against him, he had him down in no time.
They changed partners a couple of times and Lizzy really started to enjoy herself, gradually improving her skills. She found a worthy opponent in Kathleen, who shared a few tricks of the trade. “It’s all about distraction.” Before Lizzy had time to think she was lying in the grass. “See?”
Kathleen grew a bit cocky with her success and challenged Richard to a duel. It turned into a veritable battle of the sexes, as more people from both sides took a time-out to cheer on their champion. Unfortunately she was too petite too be a match for him, and not even her experience could save her from a sorry defeat.
Richard basked in his glory. “Anyone else?” he dared the girls.
Lizzy looked around. Nobody seemed too eager. “I will.” she said loudly.
Like a fearless gladiator she walked up to him and lifted her chin in mock defiance. “You wanna tussle? We tussle.”
He eagerly picked up the gauntlet, and they writhed and wrestled with great spirit. He proved a tough opponent, but she offered fair resistance as well, and so they tugged and pulled for a considerable time without any breakthrough. Encouraged by her grass roots support, she resorted to desperate measures at last. In a surprise move she pulled him close. “I’m not wearing any knickers,” she whispered, and then successfully floored him.
Richard lay there in the grass, stunned for a moment. Then he grabbed her proffered hand and started laughing. “I’ll get you!” he promised with a twinkle.
She reluctantly let go of his hand.
Soon afterwards Darcy told them to wrap it up. They were going back to town.
When they turned the corner onto the square the committee opened their umbrellas with a small Society crest on them. Lizzy looked up, but the sky was clear blue. Then she caught sight of the Aedificium, and saw the balcony filled to the brim with Members in a maniacal frenzy. When they passed underneath the long balustrade, the roaring crowd generously showered them with beer, eggs, flour and other unidentifiable filth.
After this courteous salute they entered the Aede through the back door. As they got dinner from the kitchen and walked down the stairs they heard loud cheering and other rumbling from the front of the building, and down in the basement the ceiling could be found shaking every now and then. It was obvious that the Aedificium was packed with drunk and heated Members, and the atmosphere felt much like a volcano was about to explode.
Unlike the last time tables and benches were set up in the basement, and the High Table had been installed in the front. They quietly ate their dinner, tensed by what seemed like a silence before the storm.
After they were finished Darcy addressed them. “The Society Members are very excited to meet you.” he stated dryly. As on cue, loud cheers and stamping were heard from upstairs. “However,” he continued, “since you’re not Members yet you’re not allowed to enter the Great Hall.” He slowly scanned the room before dropping the bomb. “So, you’ll have to fight your way in.”
Lizzy’s mouth almost fell open with shock.
“Like everyone else before you, you’ll have to earn the right of entrance to the Great Hall. But you don’t stand a chance unless you work together as a year. Show them that you are Loyal and united as one!”
They swallowed hard and mounted the stairs up to the hallway, singing loudly to mask their anxiety. Armed with nothing more than their year song they faced the powerful opposition in the doorway of the Great Hall. Like sardines they squashed together and tried to force their way in. They made very slow progress while beer was flying over their heads and into their eyes. Crushed between the doorpost and Glen’s bulky frame, Lizzy was gasping for breath but she could do nothing more than hope it would be over soon.
When the rear troops had finally managed to force them further inside she suddenly faced a different terror. Ferocious hands tore at her overall to drag her away from the rest of her year. She resisted as best as she could, holding on to them by hooking arms together, but in the end she was ripped loose and thrown into the crowd. She landed on the floor in a puddle of beer and broken glass. Afraid of being trampled by the frantic herd she quickly tried to get up, but slipped on the wet floor. Two hands roughly picked her up and threw her back in the direction of her companions, and she hurriedly rejoined the ranks. They continued to resist the violent attempt to break them apart, although often unsuccessfully. In small groups they floated around the hall like ships on a rough sea, holding on to each other for life. Whenever they could they merged into bigger groups, but they were as easily torn apart again by the superior force.
Time after time Lizzy was dragged away from them, despite the resistance she managed to put up. Hurled across the Great Hall she only saw flashes of people. Screaming women, their faces scrunched up in ugly grimaces, alternated with distorted figures of men shouting in a primal rage. The room appeared to be spinning round and round as she was tossed about like a leaf in the storm.
Just as she thought there would be no end to the inferno, a gong sounded. All the Members immediately retreated to the sides, leaving them in the middle of the Great Hall huddled close together like penguins on a frosty plain.
“Come on, let go of each other.” Darcy ordered. “This part is over. It’s time to integrate.”
They reluctantly loosened their grip and spread a bit more across the Hall. Like locusts the Members descended on them again, but this time to ‘get to know them,’ which was a euphemism for ruthless interrogation. They were greatly outnumbered by the Members, and Lizzy was shouted at by three or four venomous harpies at the same time.
“Where are you from?”
“Who do you think you are?”
“Are you sure?”
“Why should we believe you?”
“Drink up. Ad fundum!”
“What are you doing here?”
“So, why do you want to become a Member?”
“Why do you think we would want you?”
“What do you think you can offer the Society?”
“Ad fundum!”
After a while they got fed up with her and sent her off, and she was accosted by a boorish drunk.
“Bring me five beers!” he shouted in her ear.
“I don’t have any money with me.” Lizzy answered.
“It’s open bar tonight, you moron!!!”
Lizzy yearned for the forest. It suddenly seemed like a holiday compared to this. She spent the rest of the night in a daze, answering every question and doing whatever they wanted to see with stoic perseverance.
“Drink up! Ad fundum!”
Ad fundum!”
Ad fundum!”
Ad fundum!”
Extremely fatigued and dizzy, Lizzy closed her eyes for a second.
Immediately a glass of beer was thrown in her face. “Wake up!”
Then the gong sounded again, and they were dismissed at last. They went down to the basement, where Darcy ordered them to take off their overalls and put them in a pile. Lizzy was glad to be rid of the stinking suit, but realized her own clothes underneath were not in a much better state after a whole week of wear. Then their names were called to pick up their envelopes with confiscated possessions. She checked her watch; it was past midnight.
“Apart from your keys, you won’t need to bring anything to the Aede for the rest of the week. So don’t.” Darcy stated. “Tomorrow I expect you all right here at 7:00 AM sharp.”
Never had Lizzy been more looking forward to sleeping in her own bed. After they were dismissed she quickly cycled to her student flat and stumbled into her corridor. She felt like a ghost. Before she could throw herself on her bed fully clothed she suddenly remembered how filthy she was. A week’s dirt, mud, beer and food were clinging to her, but could she sacrifice some precious sleep for a quick shower?
In the end she managed to drag herself to the communal showers and relished in the hot water streaming down her aching muscles. The water in the drain was almost pitch black, and cigarette fumes wafted out of her hair. She realised she had forgotten to bring shampoo, and, after a little guilt trip, used someone else’s. She almost fell asleep standing in the shower before she came back to earth and turned off the tap. She felt too tired to pick up the spaghetti that had collected in the drain. My corridor mates are not going to like me, she pondered faintly.
She stumbled into bed and had almost dozed off before panic hit and she remembered to set her alarm clock at 6:00 AM.
Author Note:
Das Lager can mean ‘sleeping quarters’ in German.