Cary Grant? In her bed! Miss Uptyte blinked. Forty-odd years of dreaming and— She must still be dreaming! Very well then! It was her dream! There were refinements to consider—-a decision to be made. Which cinematic co-star did she prefer being? It would determine her character and the nature of the relationship.
Cary Grant and Irene Dunne? Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman? Cary Grant and Doris Day? Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn? That was it! Katy Hepburn! What better role for a dream in which a reluctant virgin of sixty-plus years might tarry with Cary?
“Hello there.” She batted her baggy eyes flirtily. “I’m Judith Uptyte.”
“Juw-dy! Juw-dy! Juw-dy!” Jonathan Relevant acknowledged the introduction.
“I think I’ve twisted my ankle,” the chancellor spoke.
“Chancellor Hardlign!” Miss Uptyte Wrenched her gaze away from Jonathan Relevant. “This is an outrage! What are you doing in my dream? What are you doing in my bed?”
“Please, Miss Uptyte! I can explain! You see, there was this trampoline, and we were jumping, and —”
“A trampoline? Jumping? At your age? Really, Chancellor Hardlignl”
“I know it must seem peculiar, Miss Uptyte. But—”
“Peculiar? You have a gift for underestimatement, Chancellor. Now if you’ll be good enough to leave”——Miss Uptyte pointed imperiously toward the door—“this instant!”
“Of course.” Chancellor Hardlign’s arm was still locked with Jonathan Relevant’s. Now he pulled him along toward the edge of the bed as he tried to disentangle the sheets with his free hand. “We’re going,” he assured Miss Uptyte.
“You are? Both of you?” The pluralism gave Miss Uptyte second thoughts. “Well, you certainly should, Chancellor Hardlign! A man in your position! The head of a renowned university in the bed of an unmarried lady! Even if it is only a dream. Think how it would look! Yes, Chancellor, you certainly must leave immediately.” Miss Uptyte’s tone softened abruptly. “But this gentleman-—” She fluttered her grant-filled eyes at Jonathan Relevant.
“He leaves when I leave.” The chancellor held up their entwined arms. “Our arms are locked. See?”
“Then unlock them!” Miss Uptyte blurted out.
“Miss Uptyte!” The chancellor was shocked at the implication. “He can’t stay here with you alone under these circumstances!”
“Why not?” Miss Judith Uptyte whined. “It’s my dream!”
“Juw-dy, Juw-dy, Juw-dy,” Jonathan Relevant interjected. “Under that sophisticated exterior, yuw are such a little girl. Have faith, Juw-dy. We’ll meet again in yuwer dreams.” Exiting with Chancellor Hardlign, Jonathan Relevant blew a cavalier kiss from the doorway.
Outside, they found themselves trapped in a burlesque skit. Jonathan Relevant started back for the Science Research Institute. The chancellor was heading home, which happened to be in the opposite direction. The problem was that their arms were still locked.
“If you’ll be good enough to release me, sir—” Jonathan Relevant requested respectfully. He relaxed his grip and tried to pull free, but his arm was still pinned between the chancellor’s arm and upper ribcage.
“Bursitis.” The chancellor explained his Napoleonic pose.
“When the muscle locks this way, I can’t move it,” he added apologetically. “I’m afraid we’re stuck together.”
“What happens when one of us has to go to the bathroom?” Jonathan Relevant wondered aloud.
“That’s out of the question!”
“In that case, we had better figure a way to disentangle ourselves.” Jonathan Relevant stood sideways to the chancellor, straightened his arm, and pulled.
“It’s no use. You’re not getting enough leverage.”
“HO-HO-HO CHI MINH!” The chant was faint at first, and then grew louder as a small group of marching students approached the interlocked pair.
“Perhaps if you’d try bending over a bit, sir.”
The chancellor bent over. Jonathan Relevant put his free hand on his back and tried to use it for leverage.
“HO-HO-HO CHI MINH!” The chanters marched into view.
“It’s no use.” The chancellor straightened up.
Jonathan Relevant got around behind him. He planted his foot squarely in the seat of the chancellor’s pants. “Brace yourself,” he instructed.
“HO-HO-HO CHI MINH!” The chanters were only a few feet away from them now.
Jonathan Relevant took a deep breath and shoved his foot against the chancellor’s rump as hard as he was able. It worked. Jonathan was able to pull his arm loose as the kick propelled the chancellor into the midst of the “HO-HO” hollerers.
“Groovy!” One of the students congratulated Jonathan. “Kickin’ the crap out of Old Hardlign himself! Man, you’re my kind of militant!”
Chancellor Hardlign picked himself up and scooted into the night. He was followed by assorted jeers, boos, and catcalls.
“Like you belong with us,” the student told Jonathan Relevant.
“What’s the action?” Jonathan Relevant ran his fingers through his long hair, and then squeezed an adolescent pimple under his beard.
“Minerva Kaufman’s called this SDS emergency meeting and we’re going to march into it.”
“Why are you going to march into it?” Jonathan Relevant inquired.
“So we can march out again. Come on, man.”
Jonathan Relevant was carried along as the small group proceeded to the SDS! meeting and entered the hall where it was being held. Minerva Kaufman was on the podium, chairing the meeting. She eyed the new arrivals apprehensively.
“We want our revolution, and we don’t care how!” they caroled. “We want our revolution—now!”
Minerva pounded her gavel. “I see the PLP has deigned to honor us with their presence,” she observed sarcastically.
“We’re members of SDS!” the student alongside Jonathan retorted hotly.
“Then go along with SDS procedure and shut up! You’re disrupting this meeting. And it isn’t the first time. This is typical Progressive Labor Party tactics!”
“Bourgeois! Liberal! Sellout!” The PLP leader shook his fist. “Up the revolution!”
“HO-HO-HO CHI MINH!” The PLP faction snake-danced around the hall, shouting their contempt for the moderates, and finally marched out.
Jonathan Relevant remained behind. “If enough of the Left keeps splintering off from the Left,” he wondered to himself, “then does that make those left on the Left the Right?"
“Wrong. Those left would rather not be Right because Right is wrong to them.”
“Then is Right right to those left on the Right?”
“If they're really Right, that's right. But not if they're Right just because they've been left by the Left."
“Who's on F irst?"
So much for the politics of the New Left. . . .
After the dissidents had departed, the atmosphere of the meeting changed. Minerva was able to take charge briskly, to spell out her plan and set about implementing it. It was simple. The Harnell SDS was going to support the Afro students by “liberating” a second building. In order to demonstrate their opposition to certain war-oriented university research programs at the same time, it was decided that the most logical structure to occupy was the main building of the Science Research Institute.
A short while later, with Jonathan Relevant trailing along, the SDS-ers approached the institute from the rear. “But, soft!” An English lit. major in the forefront with Minerva stopped and pointed. “What moon through younder window breaks?”
Minerva followed his finger and saw the bare, round rump of Big Dick Eberhard glowing from the sill of the barred window. “Looks like someone had the same idea we had,” she guessed. “That’s not the way, friend,” she called, approaching the mooning Eberhard. “You'll never break those bars.”