Negotiations began but failed, not least because the students presented "non-negotiable demands." After two days the administration summoned state police, later unwisely supplemented by the National Guard. An assault was launched upon the now beleaguered building. During the fighting, shots were fired and heads were cracked. By a miracle, the shots hit no one. But, by tragic misfortune, one of the cracked heads Gregory's suffered a brain hemorrhage, resulting in death a few hours later.
Eventually, because of public indignation, an inexperienced, young, and frightened policeman who had struck the mortal blow, was arraigned in court. Charges against him were dismissed. Margot, though in deep grief and shocks was enough of an objective law student to understand the dismissal. Her law training helped her also, amid later calmness, to evaluate and codify her own convictions. It was a belated process which the pressures of excitement and emote lion had prevented far too long.
None of Margot's political and social views were diminished, either then or since. But she had the honest perception to recognize that the student body faction had withheld from others those same freedoms of which they claimed to be defenders. They had also, in their zeal, transgressed the law, a system to which their scholarship was dedicated, and presumably their lives.
It was only one step further in reasoning, which Margot took, to acknowledge that no less would have been achieved, and probably far more, by staying within legal limits.
As she confided to Alex during the only time they ever talked about that portion of the past, it had become her guiding principle, in all her activism, ever since.
Still curled comfortingly close to him, she asked, "How are things at the bank?" "Some days I feel like Sisyphus. Remember him?"
"Wasn't he the Greek who pushed a rock uphill? Every time he got near the top it rolled back down again."
"That's the one, He should have been a bank executive trying to make changes. You know something about us bankers, Bracken?" "Tell me."
"We succeed despite our lack of foresight and imagination." "May I quote you?"
"If you do, I'll swear I never said it." He mused. "But between us privately, banking always reacts to social change, never anticipates it. All the problems which affect us now environment, ecology, energy, minorities have been with us a long time. What's happened in those areas to affect us could have been foreseen. We bankers could be leaders. Instead we're following, moving forward only when we have to, when we're pushed." "Why stay a banker then?"
"Because it's important. What we do is worthwhile and whether we move forward voluntarily or not, we're professionals who are needed. The money system has become so huge, so complicated and sophisticated that only banks can handle it." "So your greatest need is a shove now and then. Right?"
He looked at her intently, his curiosity reviving. "You're planning something in that convoluted pixie mind of yours." “I admit nothing." "Whatever it is, I hope it doesn't involve pay toilets. "Oh God, no!"
At the year-old memory, both laughed aloud. It had been one of Margot's combat victories and created wide attention.
Her battle had been with the city's airport commission which, at the time, was paying its several hundred janitors and cleaners substantially lower wages than were normal in the area The workers' union was corrupt, had a “Sweetheart contract" with the commission, and had done nothing to help. In desperation a group of airport employees sought help from Margot who was beginning to build a reputation in such matters.
A frontal approach by Margot to the commission produced merely a rebuff. She therefore decided that public attention must be gained and one way to obtain it was by ridiculing the airport and its rulers. In preparation, and working with several other sympathizers who had aided her before, she made an intelligence study of the big, busy airport during a heavy traffic night.
A factor noted by the study was that when evening flights, on which dinner and drinks had been served, disgorged their passengers, the bulk of the arrivals headed promptly for airport toilets, thus creating maximum demand for those facilities over a period of several hours.
The following Friday night, when incoming and departing air traffic was heaviest of all, several hundred volunteers, principally off-duty janitors and cleaners, arrived at the airport under Margot's direction. From then until they left much later, all were quiet, orderly, and law-abiding.
Their purpose was to occupy, continuously throughout the evening, every public toilet in the airport. And they did. Margot and assistants had prepared a detailed plan and the volunteers went to assigned locations where they paid a dime and settled down, solaced by reading material, portable radios, and even food which many brought. Some of the women had their needlepoint or knitting. It was the ultimate in legal sit-ins.
In the men's toilets, more volunteers formed long lines in front of urinals, each dilatory line moving with stunning slowness. If a male not in the plot joined any lineup it took him an hour to reach the front. Few, if any, waited that long.
A floating contingent explained quietly to anyone who would listen what was happening, and why.
The airport became a shambles with hundreds of angry anguished passengers complaining bitterly and heatedly to airlines who, in turn, assailed airport management. The latter found themselves frustrated and helpless to do anything. Other observers, not involved or in need, found the situation hilarious. No one was indifferent.
News media representatives, tipped off by Margot in advance, were present in force. Reporters vied with each other to write stories which were carried nationwide by wire services, then repeated internationally and used by such differing journals as Izvestia, Johannesburg Star, and The Times of London. Next day, as a result, the entire world was laughing.
In most news reports the name Margot Bracken figured prominently. There were intimations that more "sit-ins" would follow.
As Margot had calculated, ridicule is one of the stronger weapons in any arsenal. Over the weekend the airport commission conceded that discussions would be held on janitors' and cleaners' wages, which resulted in increases soon after. A further development was that the corrupt union was voted out, a more honest one replacing it.
Now Margot stirred, moving closer to Alex, then said softly, "What kind of a mind was it that you said I had?" "Convoluted-pixie." "That's bad? Or good?"
"It's good for me. Refreshing. And most of the time I like the causes that you work for." "But not all the time?" "No, not always." "Sometimes the things I do create antagonism. Lots of Suppose the antagonism was about something you n't believe in, or disliked? Suppose our names were linked together at a time like that, when you wouldn't want to be associated with me?"
"I'd learn to live with it. Besides, I'm entitled to a private life, and so are you."
"So is any woman," Margot said. "But I wonder sometimes if you really could live with it. That’s if we were together all the time. I wouldn't change, you know; you have to understand that, Alex darling I couldn't surrender independence, nor ever stop being myself and talking initiatives."
He thought of Celia who had taken no initiatives, ever, and how he had wished she would. And he remembered, as always with remorse, what Celia had become. He had learned something from her though: That no man h whole unless the woman he loves is free, and knows the use of freedom, exploiting it in fulfillment of herself.
Alex dropped his hands to Margot's shoulders. Through a thin silk nightgown he could sense the fragrant warmth of her, feel the softness of her flesh. He said gently, "It's the way you are that's the way I love and want you. If you changed, I'd hire some other lady lawyer and sue for breach of loving."
His hands left her shoulders, moving slowly, caressingly lower. He heard her breathing quicken; a moment later she turned to him, urgent and gasping. "What the hell are we waiting for?'' "God knows," he said. "Let's go to bed."