For those of you who have been on a university campus you will remember how lively and thronging it can be. Tables were set up all along the greens on this day, inviting students to join the Kappa So fraternity or alternatively the Kappa Si sorority. Dawson was proudly wearing his jacket. His dad had been a Kappa So brother so his acceptance was a given. He still had to go through the hazing, but he reckoned he could handle it. The way his body was squeezed into the jacket would no doubt give the frat bros a great place to start.
Nicholas, Russell nor Nasir were interested in pledging. To them it was a lot of butt-paddling they could do without.
“Kappa So get the sweetest pussy! Sign up and pledge before there’s none left.”
Nicholas was trying to decipher why the frat were gathering cats. When he finally caught on to the colloquialism he nodded, “Ah, you mean vagina, very good.”
Russell rolled his eyes. “You sound like a vagina,” he jested.
The tables with all kinds of groups and societies were crying out. They were all calling over one another for the attention of the new students. There were gaming societies, goth societies, vampire societies (not to be confused with the aforementioned goth ones) and there was even a society dedicated to the subject of their first project, Charlotte Grace.
Nicholas was the first to spot the pretty, book nerdish girls with copies of Red Tower on their table.
“Bonjour, mesdames,” he greeted them. “Isn’t it a beautiful day?”
The girls giggled
“That Luen BS actually works,” Russell said to Nasir.
Nicholas’ swoon worthy accent and priggish charm was winning with the romance novel fan girls. Glaring over from his Kappa So bros Dawson wasn’t so enamoured.
“Would you like to sign up for our book group?” asked the bold brunette.
Nicholas lifted the signup sheet.
“I would love to. You see, my friends and I are reading Ms Grace’s work right now and some of your opinions would be most welcome.”
The girl’s giggled again.
“I’m at a loss I must admit,” Nicholas went on. “Perhaps you lovely ladies can be our guides through the pages.”
Dawson had been struggling to earn the affections of his frat brothers. He was going to be going through the hazing soon so he wanted make his name known in his right. One way he figured of doing that was by knocking the Luen toff from his height. Not just a Loyalist, a proper Loyale asshole. It would also give the girl a little something to laugh at too.
Dawson marched over. He deliberately bumped into Nicholas, knocking him against the table and almost tipping it.
“Watch where you’re going,” he sneered.
Nicholas was righting himself when Russell spoke up.
“Maybe you should watch where you’re going. You’re bouncing around all over the place, you fat prick.”
Dawson noticed the bros at the recruitment table had lost interest in whatever he was up to. They were now too busy seeing how many reddened handprints they could get on the belly of a brother named Brady. Ryan Brady was taking the slaps with enthusiasm.
Turning back to the girls, Nicholas said of Dawson, “He’s very rude.”
“He’s a prick,” Russell reiterated.
The girls started to laugh.
“Yes, he is a prick,” Nicholas agreed. He introduced himself to the girls. “My name is Nicky. This good man is Russell and this lovely gentlemen is Nasir.”
It was quite a commotion on the university lawns as more groups and societies bid for the attention of the students. Professor Wilde had come from the building. He was stood at the entrance watching over them.
“Did you know that thousands of racehorses are murdered each year? It’s atrocious that they would make these animals run, put them through gruelling training and then murder them. You? Young lady, do you like horses?”
The young student passing the table nodded. Sure she liked horses. They were beautiful animals. She was obsessed with horses as a pre-teen.
“We are the ARC because animals, too, should have rights in Coldford.”
Curiosity drew Henry from across the lawns to the table where an activist named Hugo Webb was handing out photos of a racehorse named Chancer who had been put down on the field after a race damaged his leg. Hugo was accompanied by a student with long dreadlocks, wearing an ARC T-shirt. On his other side was another student. Henry recognised her from his class last year. She had cut all her hair off and she too was wearing an ARC shirt.
“If you are online use the hashtag ‘justice for Chancer’ and let’s get the entire city talking about this travesty.”
The former student spotted Henry.
“Good afternoon, professor,” she beamed.
Norma Blanche. Her name was Norma Blanche. Henry was glad he remembered.
“Nice to see you, Norma,” he replied politely.
“Do you like horses, professor?” Hugo asked him.
Henry gave a look at the pamphlets that they were handing out. Sure, Chancer was a handsome animal.
“I can’t say I’ve given it much thought,” he admitted. “Although I am curious, why is it a horse is to be put down when it damages its leg? Surely healing it would be more appropriate.”
He had put the question to Norma with whom he had a previous relationship. Hugo chose to speak on her behalf.
“You would believe so, professor. They claim the animal can’t be held still long enough to heal. They say that the animal is in so much pain that it’s the kindest thing to do. We believe the kindest thing to do is to not run the poor creature into the ground for the sake of a damn race. Its Perry Zoo you see. They keep breeding them.”
The student with dreadlocks cried, “Right on!”
More students started to push towards their table. Henry stepped aside to read more of their pamphlet.
Not to generalise but when one embarks on life as a student it is an experience of new beginnings. For most it is the final steps into adulthood. As such, young people tend to find out about themselves and who they truly want to be. Coupled with new found independence it makes activists out of them. Henry noted this as Hugo’s ARC table was flooded with sign-ups. It troubled Henry as he read the pamphlet and came to the section on the ARC’s position on jockeys and racehorse owners. So much so, he interrupted the sign-ups.
“It sounds like you wish violence on them,” said Henry to Hugo of the race staff.
“I don’t mince my words,” Hugo responded. “The kind of person who would be okay with murdering an innocent animal for no good reason doesn’t deserve to live.”
Some of the fresh sign ups cheered at the passion of this statement. Henry knew people were passionate about animals but the idea that racing staff should be put to death he found quite ludicrous. He accepted some people liked to put a shocking spin on their persona when airing controversial views. It made them more memorable. Hugo did take in the phones that were being raised and the videos that were being captured of him. He was smiling but he was not jesting.
“That’s just my opinion of course,” he said. “Everyone is entitled to their own.”
He took his attention away from Henry to another young student with a panda bear clipped to her backpack.
“Congratulations!” he cheered. “You are our one hundredth sign-up. That means I have a little something for you.”
Hugo reached under the table and from a box he produced a horse plushy wearing a white jacket with the ARC symbol on it. The student was delighted as he passed the horse to her.
“Thank you,” she cried excitedly.
“Our next meeting will be in the Beckingridge building next Thursday. I hope you can join us for some tea, biscuits and the chance to give animals their rights back.” To the gathered crowd Hugo called, “I don’t take ‘it’s kinder on the animal’ as an excuse for murder. Don’t hurt the animal in the first place!”
There were more cheers and cries for justice for Chancer. Hugo wrapped his arm around the new sign-up and took a selfie.
Henry lay the pamphlet down. The students were getting rowdy so he thought it best to leave them to it. As he stepped inside again his phone bleeped.
The Kuberstan attack was still the top news story but #justiceforchancer and #ARC were already beginning to trend.
Henry opened the notification.
PURPLEFLOWER HAS A MESSAGE WAITING FOR YOU.
Henry smiled as the closed the notification again.
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