Mike & Karen Ch. 29

"Verna," the woman replied. "Verna Varseveld."

"Can we call you Vivi for short?" Janet asked rather unhelpfully.

"No," Verna said. "I wanted to know if you would all like to sign my petition."

"Oh, well I'm big on petitions," Lisa said, suddenly interested. "Kinda my gig as an activist. Whatsit about?"

"The state of moral degeneracy here on campus," Verna declared firmly. "I'm trying to get enough signatures to compel the governing body and student councils to enact rules about banning sexual activity on university premises."

This was met with silence from the four girls, all of whom simply stared at her.

"Well?" Verna pressed. "Are you in?"

"Pass," Janet said, sitting back on the bench now and almost sagging. "You're tryin' to ban my favourite extracurricular activity, so I'm afraid I can't help you."

"You don't agree that the campus has a moral degeneracy issue?" the new arrival asked.

"Remington's doing her best to make sure it has one," Mona replied, making Janet snicker. "You're probably barking up the wrong tree here, Verna, we're all pretty sexually liberated."

"And I'm kinda an atheist, so I don't really go in for moral stances on religious grounds," Lisa added.

"I'm an atheist too, my petition has nothing to do with a religious narrative or motivation," the woman named Verna said firmly. "This is a place of higher learning, meant for the betterment of humanity, and people are treating it as some venue for debauchery. Did you hear about that frat house that caught fire and sank into the earth earlier this semester? The party they were hosting was little more than a depraved bacchanal."

"I think I heard about that incident," Karen mentioned, nodding. "You believe that such occurrences are doing harm to the prestige and academic capabilities of the institution."

"Yes, you get it," Verna confirmed, nodding. "I don't have a problem with sex, but it shouldn't be allowed to interfere with the mission of any university, that is, to teach the minds of the future."

"So how often do you get it in?" Janet asked, still sitting and looking amused. "Sex, I mean, not knowledge."

"I happen to be a virgin," the frizzy-haired girl sniffed. "But that's my choice, and one that can be easily altered anywhere on the planet and isn't the university. I absolutely believe that sexual activity and indeed promiscuity are actively harming our standings."

"It's like she knows you, J," Mona teased, squeezing Janet's shoulder. "You've had an entire study done on you and you didn't even know it."

"My grades haven't dropped because I like to fuck," Janet shot back, making Verna roll her eyes. "At least... not much."

"And that's my point," Verna continued. "What chance will new students ever have if this is what confronts them when they arrive? Who will want to hit the books if there are so many temptations and distractions?"

"I can say with confidence that my grades have not suffered simply because I am sexually active rather regularly," Karen said.

"Princess, that's cheating," Mona pointed out. "You're you. You could write a paper on quantum mechanics while getting railed. I've watched you do it."

"And it usually takes me a day or two to realign my brain after our sex, Kar," Lisa admitted. "The only thing that prevents my grades from dropping is you keeping me on track and threatening to cut me off from sex if I start flunking."

"That's what I'm saying, right there," Verna said, pointing at Lisa, who suddenly felt very put on the spot. "Forgetting scary geniuses for a moment, how are regular students ever to thrive here academically? With so many men all about, looking to have their way with you, how can a girl be expected to resist?"

"Wellllll..." Lisa said rather hesitantly. "I don't really like guys, so..."

"The type of sex doesn't matter," Verna said, cutting her off. "The preference will always be sex to serious study if the option presents itself. I intend to correct that."

"No sex on campus?" Janet pondered, frowning. "What the Hell would I do for fun? I'd almost have to take up smoking again just to fill the void."

"She's not lyin'," Mona quipped, smirking as she leaned on the bench behind Janet. "Remington here gets cocked more often than Chuck Connors' rifle."

She yelped as Janet turned her head and bit her friend's hand, making her dance back away from the bench, laughing.

"So who'll sign my petition?" Verna asked rather bluntly, tiring of this little clique's banter. She was greeted by silence. "No one? Academic excellence has to mean something to you. How are women supposed to study when that giant blond menace is thundering around campus?"

This got their attention. "Um... who?" Mona queried.

"The big blond guy," Verna explained. "I've been told that he's pounded half of the women on campus, and there's rumours about him getting with some of the female faculty members."

"Y'don't say..." Janet pretended to muse, stroking her chin. "Y'think he's got any game in bed?"

"I don't know!" Verna hissed in frustration. "But he's a decided distraction from their studies, isn't he?"

"I must confess, I have not slept with this giant Adonis of yours, so I wouldn't know," Karen said with a shrug, making Mona and Janet both grin naughtily. "But if he's such a menace, isn't there some virtue in confronting him directly about it? For the sake of your cause? His grades must be suffering horribly if he's bedding as many women as you seem to think he is."

The skinny platinum blonde thought about that. "Show him the folly of his ways, and get him on board. Having him on my side will certainly go a long way to solving my issues, won't it?"

"If you can persuade him that celibacy is the right direction for the campus, then you'll have no worries about bringing the rest of the student body into line," Karen agreed, nodding.

"Okay," Verna said, looking determined. "But if I convert him to my cause, then you four have to sign my petition. Deal?"

"Deal," the four women chorused.

"Excellent," Verna declared, turning and looking around at the broader campus. "Now I just need to find him."

Janet looked at her watch. "Uh, it's just past two on a Monday, so he's in Wycliffe study hall at the moment."

Verna's eyes narrowed. "And why do you know his schedule so acutely?"

Karen stepped in before Janet screwed things up. "I admit, we have all been sorely temped to approach him and have him make love to us. We've all admitted to it, even Lisa, and she's a lesbian."

"I... yeah, it's true," Lisa said hastily, improvising.

"We need you to talk him out of this," Karen continued, looking earnest, standing in front of Verna now and taking her hands in hers. "We all feel our resolve simply melt away in his presence. We are counting on you to show the strength girls on campus need in order to reject his sexual tyranny. Please, Verna..."

Seconds of silence followed, and Verna nodded. "You can rely on me. Keep your pens handy, I'll be back for your signatures..."

She turned and strode off purposefully in the direction of Wycliffe College, her body language singing of confidence in her cause. They kept watching her, saying nothing until she was out of sight.

Then Lisa, Janet, and Mona all burst out laughing hysterically. Even Karen was laughing. Once again, people passing by knew better than to stop and inquire.

"Oh my God," Janet gasped, wiping tears from her eyes. "Princess, you are so fucking evil! Are you sure you're not DeBourne's sister, separated at birth?"

"Unlikely, but I am rather proud of that one," Karen said, smiling. "Ladies, would it be vulgar for me to pat myself on the back right now?"

"No, no," Mona managed to say, leaning on the bench to keep herself upright. "You've earned it, Kar. You're getting admiration kisses once we're back in our dorm."

"I feel better about DeBourne getting me earlier," Lisa laughed gaily, hugging her roomie. "Nice to know he has a rival out there in the trolling department."

"Celebration dinner at Barberian's, ladies?" Karen asked, having bowed gracefully at the compliments. "On me, of course."

They all cheered, celebrating the eventual triumph of institutional debauchery over puritan good intentions.

***

Back at the Manor, third floor, Monday afternoon, the present...

"You said you had something to show me, Kat?" Jenny asked as she walked along with her dearest friend, arm-in-arm. She was delighted that her dear friend had the afternoon off from being down at the campus.

"A bit of a flashback to times past, maybe," Karen lilted, smiling. "Given how long it's been, I have no doubt you'll be surprised."

"Don't be so sure, we fucked in just about every room in this house back then," Jenny said with a smirk. "We haven't pulled that off again just yet, we should correct that issue."

"In due course, my dear," her lovely companion assured as they approached one of the lounges. "While you were out this morning, I took advantage of your absence to do a little redecorating here in the Dunsany Lounge."

"Ah yes, the Projection Lounge," Jenny teased as they stopped in front of the door to said room, which was closed. "Your ancestors loved the room so much at Heatherly that they recreated it here. Jonesing, are we, Kat?"

"I inherited the lounge, woman, I didn't commission it," Karen replied, shaking her head. The Dunsany lounge was indeed a gorgeous, graceful old room with an almost baroque feeling to it. Dark wood was complemented by crimson walls, and just about every fixture and detail of the room was gilded. The fireplace sat where Jenny remembered it. How many times had she and Kat made love in this room all those years ago? They'd only had drinks in here recently, during this visit.

Karen unlocked the door before stepping aside, gesturing gracefully for her beloved friend to proceed. Jenny opened the door and made to enter, but stopped, standing in the doorway, looking quite stunned.

"Kat, I..." Jenny murmured, still staring rather dumbly.

Karen slipped by her friend and ambled into the room, turning to smile at her. "Bring back memories, countess?"

"And how," Jenny breathed, moving into the room now. The ornate furniture was all still there, but everything was covered in untold stacks of money. Small denomination bills held together by currency straps were everywhere.

It must have been millions of dollars.

"Kat, I..." Jenny began, but then looked at her friend. "How?"

"Oh, once I knew you were coming, I knew I wanted to do this," Karen said simply, sauntering around and tracing an elegant finger over endless bills. "So I called the bank and told them I needed money for a single afternoon before returning it. They protested, but I was persuasive. I told them that if they didn't comply, then whatever I withdrew could be considered permanently removed from their vaults and investments. They saw reason, and while you were out, a truck brought over the requisite funds. Suffice to say that the staff was rather confused, seeing all this money being carted to the elevator."

"I daresay they were," Jenny agreed, finally moving into the room, but still looking stunned. "I don't think I've been in the presence of this much hard currency since we last did this. What were we, fourteen?"

"I was about to turn fifteen, in fact," Karen mentioned, easing down onto the long chesterfield in an open area and settling back against the stacks of cash, resting her arm on one. "My father had left all that money in this very room for some occasion he never explained, rather put out because he suddenly had to be somewhere else."

"And he commissioned us with looking after it until he had returned," Jenny added, smirking as she settled down onto the other end of the chesterfield, leaning back into the money. The table in front of them was stacked high with wads of bills.

"I don't know what he was thinking either," Karen giggled. "Still, despite our misbehaviour, he was pleased that all the money was still accounted for, and none the worse for wear. I thought we could recreate that afternoon, unless you have anything better planned."

"I do not, and I couldn't possibly," Jenny said firmly. "Did you bring the giggle water?"

Karen pointed at the cupboard beneath the low table in front of them. Jenny reached down and opened the little door, squealing in delight as she retrieved a bottle of Canadian rye whiskey. "It's the same brand we were drinking back then!"

"It is, in fact, the other bottle we didn't open because we were already drunk and just started having sex on the floor," Karen pointed out.

Jenny eagerly began setting up the shot glasses. "Then they only thing we're missing is-"

"Also seen to," Karen said, holding up a small but very well-made bong in one hand and a small, carved glass bowl with a lid in the other.

The countess' eyes lit up. "Northern Lights?"

"From an ancestor of that very same plant from all those years ago," Karen confirmed. "Dare we?"

"Oh, we so dare, Kat," Jenny said eagerly, opening the rye and pouring out two shots. She pushed one along the edge of the table to where Karen was sitting.

"And since you are my guest, my lovely countess, I insist you take the first hit," the bronze-haired goddess said, taking up her shot glass.

"Right after this shot," Jenny agreed, holding up her glass. "To undying love between two dearest friends."

"Undying love," Karen said, toasting her friend and then knocking back the shot, while Jenny did the same. Karen sighed happily and leaned back into the stacks of money supporting her. Jenny, meanwhile, began prepping the apparatus.

"Did you name this beauty, Kat?" the blonde asked, appreciating the gilt work all over the exquisitely etched glass. Flowing Arabic script could be seen on the gilt.

"No, my mighty husband did," came Karen's reply while she watched her friend. Nobody at St. Eve's had been more skilled at packing a bowl or a bong that Jenny Penrose had. Thinking back on it, Karen could not believe how badly behaved they'd been behind closed doors. Not that she regretted or minded, of course. "He bought it for me and named it after where he procured it, Kandahar. I just call her Kandy most days."

"Very nice to make your acquaintance, Kandy," Jenny purred as she made sure the bowl was prepared. She had already fallen in love with this rig; it was superior in every way to any she kept back at Heatherly. She found a conveniently placed chrome lighter and smiled in anticipation. Clicking the flame on, she held it to the bowl, heating up the contents before locking her lips against the mouthpiece and taking the deep inhale, the greyish-white smoke swirling up with her breath.

She put Kandy down, leaned back into the money that cushioned her and exhaled into the air, sighing happily. "Mmmmm, been a while since I've done this. Last time was with Mill when I went to visit her at Shellness."

"It's a rare thing for myself as well, and only under the most private conditions," Karen replied, leaning forward and taking Kandahar from Jenny. She packed the little bowl, leaned back against her money pile, lit, and took a deep inhale. As she blew out, she smiled. "Chances are that people at the church wouldn't understand if one of their elders partook, legal or not. Not to mention some students at the university."

"And what of the lord of the manor?" the countess asked, pouring two more shots. "I can't imagine him not being a philosopher-prince when he indulges."

Karen restrained a giggle. "Make sure you ask him, but only when people are present."

Jenny most certainly would.

***

St. George Campus, 1987...

"And we had this one teacher in grade six, Ms. Addison," Mike explained as he sat with some other students in one of the study halls in his dorm. "Yelling all the time, threatening students with the meter-long ruler she carried, and she smelled like old milk and bootleg cigarettes. She was, quite simply, the most terrifying child care professional since King Herod opened the Bethlehem crèche."

The other students were laughing at the anecdote heartily. DeBourne had a way of lightening any room he was in with his sense of humour. Since his arrival at the beginning of the school year last September, he'd become not only infamous, but wildly popular, except with the malcontents in the student body. And with his dean. Graham Marks' dislike for Mike was legendary, and the only reason anyone could think of was that the dean was a short man, and DeBourne towered over him. Small dog syndrome. Not that it bothered Mike, seemingly.

He was heading over to the music school to practice on a piano he was allowed to use when he noticed Janet and Mona not too far away, walking in another direction. They saw him and waved, but they were both smirking and then whispered to one another. He didn't think too much on it, since those two were crazy.

Later, he was sitting in the rehearsal room, reading the sheet music that was the arrangement for Beethoven's Piano Concerto No.5, which either he or Gordon was going to be playing at the end of the month for some university fundraiser. Even though she insisted that he interpreted Beethoven better than she did, he felt inclined to give her the spotlight for that evening, since he considered her the bigger draw for the fundraising. Nobody listening would be able to tell the difference between them in any event. He cared about the revenue generated, not how it happened.

He heard a familiar, high-pitched voice out in the hallway and saw Heyman walk by, laughing with some friends from her social studies courses. The redhead saw him and waved as she went by, but she bit her lip, as if trying to refrain from giggling. He frowned. What was going on with all these women? Were the Spring Sillies really a thing?

Troublemakers, the lot of them. Maybe they all just needed to get laid. Why couldn't everyone be sane and sensible, like him?

***

Blackwell Manor, the informal dining room, Monday evening, the present...

"D'y'ever find the neighbours troublesome, Kar?" Alexa asked as she cut up her andouille sausage while looking at her older sister, sitting at one head of the table.

"I suppose that depends on what you mean by 'troublesome', really," the bronze-haired goddess replied, sipping her port. One would never have been able to tell that a mere few hours before, she and Jenny had been drinking whiskey and getting high in the Dunsany Lounge. "Could we narrow down the definition a bit?"

"I dunno, wild parties, people drunkenly staggering onto our property, crazy relatives riding ostriches around naked on the lawns while people drive by," Alexa mused.

"One might ask if anyone found it concerning when you, Curly, and Larry detonated a bomb on our front lawn a few weeks back," Karen said, looking pointedly at Freja, who was also sitting at the table. The Danish girl blushed and sank down in her chair. "Twice. In one day."

"Okay, point," Alexa allowed, preferring to not remember the incident. "Are our neighbours ever as annoying as us?"

"Much more relevant question," Karen said, stopping to ponder. "I suppose when our megastar rapper neighbour's parties spill out of the house and blare that noise across the hemisphere, that can be irksome. Thankfully, the neighbourhood association sits on his head about it, and the incidents are few. Once in a while, something strange happens on the golf course down at the other end where the club is. But for the most part, it tends to be quiet."

"Anything you miss from the house in Kleinburg?" Alexa queried, thinking back to the house she'd first come back to and smiling wistfully. She'd only lived there for about seven months, but she'd loved it.

"Oh, I do miss the house," Karen sighed rather dreamily, looking wistful and distant, nodding while Theresa refilled her port. "It was relatively quiet there too, but certainly not the same as here, and Heatherly is even more remote than we are from neighbours. The closest town is away entirely from the Penrose property, isn't it, Jen? What was that awful little hamlet called? Lickey End?"