Chloe Wassler sat alone in the Women’s Center, a cumbersome volume of Margaret Atwood balanced on her tiny lap. The wall clock, shaped like a cat and always a few minutes too fast, let her know that it was nearly 9:30. Chloe sighed. It didn’t look like anyone was going to show up. She had already resigned herself to continuing her reading in her dorm room when there was a tentative knocking upon the door.
“Come on in,” Chloe called.
The knocker was hesitant to enter and Chloe rose to answer the door herself. She should have thought to do that in the first place. Many of the people who came to the Women’s Center were embarrassed, scared or skeptical (or some combination of the three). Whoever it was, Chloe hoped her problem wasn’t too serious. At 5’0″ and with a voice that would make Cyndi Lauper cringe, she did not exactly radiate confidence. Then again, sometimes it helped just to have someone to talk to. More times than not, Chloe had been just that person.
The knocker was not familiar to Chloe. She was fairly tall, had red hair and appeared to be scared out of her wits. Chloe wasn’t sure, but she was leaning towards guessing that this young woman had just found out that she was pregnant. Her nervousness seemed consistent with such a discovery. Then again, it could be anything.
“Come on in,” Chloe repeated, smiling this time as she said it. The redhead nodded and slowly entered. Chloe shut the door behind them.
“I’m Chloe. What can I do for you?”
The redhead did not answer at first.
“Can I have a glass of water?” she asked.
“Sure.”
There was a water cooler in the corner by the bookshelf. Chloe fetched a paper cup for her and filled it while the redhead took a seat.
“Better?” Chloe asked after she drank.
The redhead nodded. She seemed like she was ready to talk at last.
“I think…” she began.
CRASH!
Glass exploded outward as a brick went cascading through the window. The redhead shrieked and Chloe leapt to her feet. Both were greatly alarmed.
“Hey ya bitches!” a voice called from outside. “Hey babykillers. Choke on this!”
A second brick flew through the window adjacent to the one that was shattered.
“I’m getting help,” Chloe declared, her voice loaded with disgust.
“Don’t leave me here” the redhead protested.
“Relax,” Chloe replied. “There’s a phone. It’s probably just some drunk…”
“Hey ya !” the phantom voice roared. “I GOT SOMETHIN FOR YOUUUUU!”
The redhead closed her eyes and screamed. Chloe felt like screaming herself. What the hell was happening?!

The Druids
“Check this out,” Ryan Lewis said to his roommate Chris Broderick. Ryan had the latest issue of the campus newspaper spread out in front of him and was reading diligently. Chris sat on his bed on the top bunk. He had been listening to music and making a half-assed attempt to do some reading with his first year seminar course. With a deft flick of the wrist, he used the remote to click off the stereo they shared.
“On Friday night, unidentified persons threw bricks through the windows of the Women’s Center and shouted profanities at those who were inside.”
“That’s really messed up,” Chris replied.
“Their insults were graphically sexual and violent in nature,” Ryan continued to read. “Although property was damaged, no one was harmed.”
Chris shook his head. “Who’d do something like that?”
Ryan shrugged. “I dunno. I don’t even know what the Women’s Center is anyway.”
“It’s a room in the Student Center,” Chris explained. “They’ve got like resources and info there on planned parenthood, crisis counseling, dealing with abuse…stuff like that.”
“Oh. You go there or something?” he teased.
“No,” Chris replied. “But Stacy does sometimes.”
“Gotcha.” Ryan smiled slyly.
It was no secret that Chris had a crush on one of the girls on the floor. He and Stacy Rose shared the same astrological sign, the same tastes in movies and the same first year seminar course. Though he rejected the idea that this was fate at work, he nonetheless thought that he had a definite connection to her. She was also easy on the eyes: short and blonde with plenty of curves. Had it been high school, Chris wouldn’t have even thought that he had a chance. This, however, was not high school. This was college. The level of maturity was higher and the desire for understanding ran deeper. Besides, Chris thought he was rather easy on the eyes himself.
Ryan continued to read excerpts from the newspaper and Chris zoned him out and went back to work. He still did not feel compelled to concentrate.
“This is boring,” he groaned.
“What is?” Stacy asked. She and her roommate Ashley were standing at the door. Chris felt himself tense up.
“Oh…. um…. reading for sem.”
Stacy rolled her eyes. “I didn’t even start on it yet.”
“Yeah, well it’s pretty bad.”
“Did you guys here what happened?” Ashley asked. “Some asshole threw bricks through the Women’s Center.”
“I was just reading about that,” Ryan replied. “They have no idea who did it.”
“Nope,” said Ashley. “But I have a feeling.”
“Oh God,” Stacy muttered. “Here we go again.”
Chris smiled bemusedly as he listened to Ashley’s rant.
“It says here,” Ryan read. “That while the Christian Alliance had been vocally critical of the Women’s Center’s support of reproductive rights, they do not advocate violence and are not responsible for the attacks. You ask me, it’s probably just some random guy.”
“Or,” Ashley explained. “A not so random guy from Empire. Think about it: those guys come here all the time to party with us and they are total pigs. Maybe they got pissed that we beat them in football one too many times and…I dunno, I’m rambling.”
“What do you think, Stacy?” Chris asked.
“Hmmm…” she answered. “Well, I’m not exactly Nancy Drew, but I don’t think it was just a random thing. I think it was meant to scare off whoever was in there.”
“That’s horrible,” Chris said. “Seriously.”
She shrugged. “It sucks that there’s nothing anyone can do.”
After the girls had gone but before Chris could get back to his reading, he and Ryan were paid another visit. This time, their guests were Chuck and Pete, their neighbors across the hall. Chuck Gordon was big, athletic, nice enough most of the time but slightly abrasive. Pete Silbeck was gaunt, worrisome and hardly said a word. Chris thought whoever was in charge of housing had really messed up that combination.
“You guys believe this stuff?” Chuck asked.
“’bout what?” Ryan replied.
“The throwing the bricks.”
“Yeah,” Chris told him. “We’ve heard. Sucks, doesn’t it?”
“What sucks is that they are making this a big deal. You have any idea how much vandalism goes on around here? Some drunk asshole keys someone’s car or steals something and you don’t hear anything. But then this happens and they don’t shut up about it.”
“Well…” Pete began. Chuck abruptly cut him off.
“And then look who they try to blame for it. The Christians. The frats. Maybe a girl did it.”
“They said they heard male voices,” Ryan corrected.
“They said,” Chuck mimicked.
“Dude, what’s your problem?” Chris asked.
“Look,” Chuck explained. “If you ask me, they got what was coming to them for supporting all that abortion and women-are-oppressed-so-it-must-be-the-man’s-fault .”
“Don’t start,” Pete said.
“Did you do it?” Chris asked, annoyed. As far as he knew, the Women’s Center contained only information. Sometimes, people would be on hand to answer questions and point others in the right direction, but they didn’t advocate anything. He didn’t know where Chuck was getting this from, but it made him sound painfully ignorant.
“ no! I’m not stupid. But I would have liked to have been there.”
“Whatever,” Chris replied. “Look, man, I’ve got some reading to do.”
Chuck cackled. “First year sem. That’s not true either.”
Not long after he left, Chris threw down the book in frustration.
“What is with that guy?” he asked. “Is it his life’s goal to be stupid?”
“I dunno,” Ryan answered. “But you have to admit, you’re being kinda defensive.”
“About what?”
“Stacy.”
Chris bit his lip. Ryan had a point. Why was he reacting so strongly if not for her?
“It’s still not right,” he concluded.
“No one’s saying it is,” Ryan told him.
“It’s……I dunno……it’s confusing, man.”
“Personally, I like Ashley better. She’s got those athletic legs.”
Chris nodded wearily and glanced at the book he had dropped. He hopped off the bed to retrieve it. Just as he was about to begin reading again, another visitor emerged.
“Hi guys,” said Christine the RA. “How you doing?”
“OK,” Ryan answered.
“Did you hear about….”
“YES,” they said in unison.
“Hold on now. You didn’t even know what I was going to say.”
“What were you going to say?” Chris asked.
“There’s a lecture on witchcraft coming up on Thursday night.”
“Oh.”
“Let’s try this again,” she said. “There’s a lecture on witchcraft coming up on Thursday night….”
She held her arms out and waited for them to give the appropriate response.
“Umm…we’ll be there,” Chris told her.
“Great!” Christine perkily replied. “Let me go tell everyone else…”
“She needs to ease off the coffee,” Ryan remarked.
Chris nodded. He wasn’t going to get any reading done.
In addition to her prodding her residents into attending lectures and programs, one of Christine Beyer’s more annoying habits was to refer to them all as Druids. The name of the dorm was Drew Hall (it’s not a person, she explained to them on the very first day). The name of the school was Central State College. Something very bad was about to happen.

Thursday: Of Witches and Blowjobs
Chris was on his fifth hand of computer solitaire when Ryan came in holding a letter.
“I don’t believe it,” he said. “I mean, I don’t believe it.”
“Believe what?” Chris asked.
“Read for yourself,” Ryan said, passing the letter to him.
“Dear Mr. Lewis,” Chris read. “Congratulations on your being accepted into our leadership training program. You were one of several applicants…what the hell is this?”
“Right before school started, I applied for this thing,” Ryan explained. “And now I get to go to DC for two weeks and hang out with members of Congress. I don’t believe this!”
“Congratulations, man. When is this thing?”
“Next week.”
“Next week?”
“Yeah. It was sent out a while ago. I’ve just been lazy about checking my mail.”
Chris laughed. “Maybe I should check mine. Who knows….I could have won the lottery or something?”
“I still don’t believe this,” Ryan replied, bewildered. “I’ve gotta call my family. They won’t believe this either, it’s right in the middle of the semester though…”
“Don’t even think of not going,” Chris warned him. “This is D.C. You meet one person down there, you’re like set up for life.”
“And to think,” Ryan lamented. “I was this close to dropping the Political Science major. Now I’m gonna need it.”
Chris went to his 3:30 class and returned to the dorms around 5. Ryan was still in a state of disbelief and Christine had come around again to remind everyone for the umpteenth time about the witchcraft lecture later that night. With some time to kill before dinner, Chris began to formulate a way to get Stacy to go out with him. He didn’t feel right about asking her outright (and besides, what if she said no) nor was he one for dropping subtle hints. In fact, he couldn’t think of any method he could use…. short of her falling into his arms by coincidence.
“This is hopeless,” he complained. “I mean…. what am I supposed to do here?”
“Just ask her,” Ryan suggested.
“I can’t,” Chris argued. “It’s not even so much that she’ll say no; it’s that we’ll be in limbo.”
“Limbo?”
“You know…. that odd state where you know someone likes you but the feeling isn’t mutual and you keep giving each other awkward glances and stuff until you aren’t talking. We’re on the same floor and we’re friends and I can’t have that.”
“Gotcha.”
Ryan was still clutching the acceptance letter and gave it yet another read. He was, Chris thought, a pretty good roommate. They didn’t always see eye to eye on everything, but at least they could talk things out. On the other hand, he hypothesized that Pete would end up murdering Chuck before the year was out. Maybe he wouldn’t wait and would get it done even before the semester was over.
“Dudes,” Chuck hollered from across the hall. “Matt’s coming.”
Chris had been around just long enough to realize that Matt Tover was someone of importance on campus. Junior class president, Phi Chi treasurer and co-captain of the lacrosse team, Matt also appointed himself a counselor to freshmen…in a very different way than any of the faculty had intended. Surely enough, as Chris leaned his head out the doorway, Matt’s familiar blue bandana came into view.
“Hey froshes,” he greeted. “Whadup?”
“I’m going to DC!” Ryan gloated.
“Cool, man. You going to be here tomorrow at least?”
Ryan nodded.
“Good. Party at the Phi Chi house. No obligations. Just go and have a good time. $3 at the door will get you a cup.”
“What kind of action are we talking about?” Chuck asked, his eyebrows arched.
“For a freshman like you…. not much,” Matt informed him. “All the cute freshmen chicks are gonna be taken before you even walk in the door.”
“to hell with that,” Chuck sneered.
“Don’t even think about an upperclass girl. Not when you’re a frosh, anyway. They won’t put out for you. They’ll give you head, maybe, but go any further and it’s like a knock against their rep. If, however, pigs should start flying and any of yous should happen to bang one…. we’ll look mighty favorably upon that come pledge season. So…. are you in?”
Chuck and Ryan both voiced their assent and Pete silently nodded.
“What about you?” Matt asked Chris.
“I dunno…”
“What’s your name? Chris…right?”
Chris nodded.
“You have a girl.”
“He’s looking,” Ryan divulged.
“Dude, shutup,” an embarrassed Chris remarked.
“OK, look,” Matt explained. “Anyone worth getting will be at this party. It’s a good way to you, know, break the ice, loosen up and make your move. And if you strike out, there will be lots of other chicks around. Sound good?”
“Yeah.”
“Matt Tover!” Christine chirped eagerly. “Will you be going to tonight’s witchcraft lecture?”
Matt smiled broadly at her. “Not on your life.”
The witchcraft lecture took place in a large auditorium. The turnout was sizeable to say the least: there was hardly a seat to be had. Chris, Ryan, Stacy and Ashley occupied a portion of one row towards the back, Chuck and Pete and a few other Druids from their floor occupied the seats behind them.
“I heard she does this every year,” Ashley remarked.
“So what,” said Stacy. “It seems like it’s gonna be cool.”
“Yeah,” Chris agreed.
“Whipped,” Chuck whispered in his ear.
Chloe Wassler stood at the podium. Under her feet were two phonebooks that gave her the necessary height to avoid looking utterly ridiculous.
“And now,” she said to the large, impatient audience. “I am proud to welcome Professor Ann Rukeheyser.”
Chloe stepped down and a woman in black approached. Her hair was dark and curly, with a streak of white in the front that reminded Chris of a skunk’s tail. It was impossible to tell her age.
“Freaky lady,” Ryan remarked.
Chris nodded. He was no longer merely pretending to care: this really WOULD be interesting.
“The word witch originally meant wise-woman or healer,” Rukeheyser began.
“This is not true,” said Chuck.
“Imagine,” Rukeheyser told them all. “Being accused of horrible crimes, having your flesh ripped out, having stones thrown at you and being burned at the stake all for things you did not do.”
“Ugh,” Stacy whispered. “I just had a really bad image.”
Her hand felt for Chris’s, found it and squeezed. Though surprised, he allowed himself a slight smile. It might have meant nothing, but it felt like it meant everything to him. She continued to squeeze his hand as they took in tales of terror and persecution and horror and woe. Bad images abounded throughout, but the worst ones, even after the lecture ended, were still yet to come.