Typically, a no-win situation with my daughter. She won’t be satisfied with anything short of total surrender.
I pick up a copy of the Democrat-Gazette and see an article in the second section on Dade’s hearing. So much for confidentiality. WAR will probably hold a rally out side the Union calling for Dade’s castration, I think gloomily. Yet how could I expect that information to re main a secret? I myself told Dade to tell the coaches.
Suddenly, it hits me that Coach Carter would make a perfect character witness for Dade at the hearing. Even if the faculty and student members of the “J” Board pretend that it’s no big deal for the Razorback football coach to appear before them, it would be, and some of them will be influenced whether they admit it or not. If Carter had a losing record, it might be a different story, but the Hogs for the first time in years are now ranked in the top ten, thanks to the win over Tennessee. There can’t be five people on the campus who don’t know about the game this weekend with number one ranked Alabama.
Back at the Ozark, I call Carter’s office and am told by his secretary that he is in a meeting. Undoubtedly he is with his assistant coaches drawing up a game plan for the Crimson Tide. The best time to get him, I realize, is late at night. I leave my name and number and say it is important.
Then I call the Cunninghams collect and report on the upcoming hearing. Roy, who takes the call in his store, asks the same question as his son: Is Dade going to be kicked out of school? I assure him, without the slightest evidence to back me up, that his son is in no danger of
being separated from the campus. I know he and Lucy will be talking to Dade before Friday, and any lack of confidence I convey to them will get back to Dade. Acting in effect as his own lawyer at the hearing, Dade must not panic. I promise to let them know as soon as we get a decision and hang up, knowing how helpless they both must feel.
Resigned to a sickening long-distance bill, I call Clan and ask him for some names of kids at the university who might know something about Robin.
“Doesn’t Brenda have some friends who have kids up here who are sorority types?” I ask. Brenda, not Clan, had family money in the beginning of the marriage. She has always struck me as the kind of woman who still goes up for alumnae weekends and bores the girls to death.
“I need to get the inside skinny on the girl and I can’t get my own daughter to do any of my legwork for me.”
“Brenda and I haven’t spoken to each other for weeks,” Clan laughs.
“What else is new?” I say half seriously. I never know how to take Clan on the subject of his marriage. He and Brenda appear to me to have a terrible relationship, but seem determined to outlast each other. He has me on the speakerphone. I hear a crackling sound. As usual, he must be eating something and needs both hands. If he doesn’t die of heart disease, nobody should.
“Hell, I know a couple of kids who are up there,” Clan says.
“Want me to call ‘em and see if they’ll talk to you?”
Bless Dan’s soul. Of course, he owes me for taking on his prostitute.
“If you would,” I say sincerely, “I’d be grateful. Dade’s got a university administrative hearing Friday, and it’d be nice to find out
that the victim was a known pathological liar. Apparently, they’ll let in the worst gossip imaginable. You ought to be up here. This is your kind of law practice.”
Clan snickers appreciatively.
“What’s your number?
I’ll call you back when I hear something.”
I tell him and get off the phone. It’s my dime. While I am working on some questions that Dade can ask of Robin and her witnesses, I get a call from Carter’s secretary telling me to hold on for him. Normally, I can’t stand people who are too self-important to make their own calls, but I make an exception for Carter. We need him too bad.
“Carter,” he barks.
“Is this Page?”
“Coach,” I plunge in, “we need your help at the hearing.
I’d like for you to be a character witness for Dade.
As you know, they could kick him out of school, not just off the team.”
For an instant I think I’ve lost the connection, but Carter comes back on after a moment and says, “I’ll have to think about it. They’re scorching my butt over this.”
I don’t doubt it.
“You’re getting a lot of support, too, though” I guess, although my actual knowledge is limited to the two letters in the paper.
“Some,” he admits.
“But I haven’t exactly made myself popular with the university bigwigs. A lot of ‘em wanted me to suspend Dade the rest of the season. It’s not just pressure. I’ve had some calls from administrators who sincerely believe he shouldn’t be playing until he’s had his trial. Hell, my own wife thinks I did the wrong thing.”
This confession is alarming. If it gets out that Carter is having second thoughts, Dade won’t have a chance.
“I’ve finally gotten the statements of the witnesses if you want to see them,” I tell him, trying not to sound as if I’m begging
“I’m even more convinced now that Dade didn’t do anything the girl didn’t want done. She corroborates everything Dade told you except for the alleged rape it self. It’s just her word against his. Her roommate sure doesn’t help her, and the nurse and the Rape Crisis woman just say what you’d expect. What you said at that press conference last week is truer today than when you said it. He shouldn’t be punished until he’s had his day in court.”
“Bring the statements by in an envelope and drop ‘em off with my secretary,” Carter instructs.
“I suspect we both want this kept confidential, so I’ll burn ‘em when I’m through.”
“I’ll get them to you in the next hour,” I promise. I hang up, wondering how cynical Carter’s decision to keep Dade on the team really was. Maybe, down deep, there’s a little bleeding-heart lawyer trying to get out.
Somehow, I doubt it. Coaches at this level know the public wants only one thing and that’s to win.
As I look through the Yellow Pages to find a copy place, the phone rings. It is Sarah.
“I got your letter, babe,” I say carefully.
“It was interesting.”
“Dad!” she yells into my ear.
“I blew your mind! You can admit it. Have you thought about what I asked you to do?”
Anxious to drop off the statements, I plead a standard excuse.
“You mean withdraw? I haven’t had time, but I will.”
“At least come to the rally tonight, okay?” Sarah says.
“You’ve got to hear Paula. Even if you don’t agree with her, I think you’ll be impressed. It’s at seven in front of the Student Union.”
“I’m running around like a chicken with its head cut off getting ready for this hearing on Friday,” I explain, trying not to sound irritated.
“But if I can come, I’ll drop by” “It’s the last one being permitted on campus this week,” Sarah says.
“There’s a rumor that Robin is going to speak.”
“Be identified publicly?” I ask, skeptical.
“I thought she had quit cheerleading because of all the trauma.”
“She probably felt ashamed,” Sarah says, “until someone explained that it was Dade who ought to feel too ashamed to show his face in public. That’s what our society does to women.”
Maybe I will come after all.
“Are you sure you did the right thing in quitting?” I ask, unable to keep my mouth shut.
“You really seemed to enjoy it.”
“Absolutely,” Sarah assures me.
“I was willingly participating in my own exploitation.”
For God’s sake!
“What do you mean?” I ask, knowing I don’t want to hear this answer.
“For example,” Sarah says earnestly, “women who act in pornography films are often physically and emotionally coerced into it. They don’t have a choice. I have a choice in whether I should take part in a spectacle that glorifies violence, the passivity of women, and male dominance.”
And all this time I thought it was just a game. Why did I think the University of Arkansas was a safe place for her? First, it’s blacks in the Delta, now it’s women-what next? But I am living proof a person can get into trouble up here. Except my trouble was more traditional. Too much Southern Comfort, too many girls, and not enough elbow grease.