Strange Animals (15 page)

The dean said, “I suppose it would.”

Karen was infuriated by the dean's response, which she had foreseen. She said, “So then this is all just about public perception of the school. It has nothing to do with my work at all.”

The dean said, “That's not true.”

Karen said, “Of course it is. If you would have been all right with me doing this in secret, what else could this meeting be
about? It's because you can't have the UCLA Department of Philosophy associated with what might be considered a controversial idea. This, by the way, is exactly why I didn't just write a paper. People out there in the world would never even have known about this. The debate that's now going on across the country would never have happened. I would have written a paper, some of you would have read it, I would have gotten my PhD, and that would have been it. But now it's out there. It's in the world. And I think there's some part of you that hates not having control over it. Maybe that's really what this is about. I don't know, but I do know this: I didn't get into philosophy so that I could become one of you, sitting across this table, telling students that philosophy should be explored safely within the confines of academia. I got into it to make people think differently. And that's what I'm doing right now. Are any of you?”

The dean said, “I think we've heard enough. Thank you for your time, Ms. Holloway. Professor Noone will contact you shortly with our decision on your future as a PhD candidate here at UCLA.”

Karen walked out into the hallway, still furious. The hypocrisy of academia was frustrating to her. She knew the work she was doing was more important than anything the people on that advisory board had done in the past two decades. If she did get kicked out of the program, she decided, she'd wear it as a badge of honor.

On the drive home, she tuned to an '80s station, hoping to avoid hearing anyone else passing judgment on her. Between the oldies, though, even the DJ made a few comments about her. There was no escaping what she had become.

As she pulled up to the apartment she once shared with Paul, she got an email from Professor Noone. It read, “Karen, I'm sorry to give you this news over email, but the advisory board has decided to dismiss you from the program. The board concluded that your actions are inconsistent with the type of candidate we
support in the UCLA philosophy program. You'll get a formal notice shortly, but I felt you should know as soon as possible.”

Even though this was the outcome she had expected, Karen was still stung by the news. She wondered if she could salvage any kind of career after being kicked out of a PhD program. She had never really wanted to be a professor, necessarily, but that was the obvious career path for someone with a PhD in philosophy. She hoped that some school out there would accept her and let her finish her PhD, but maybe not. Maybe they were all unwilling to see their students' work live in the real world, not just in books and papers.

She pulled into her parking spot at her apartment building, got out of her car, and started calling Tanya to tell her what happened. Before she could hit the call button, however, she heard someone a few feet away yell, “
Slut!
”

God was good all the time, and he created men and women to live on the earth and to seek happiness through him. God created women to bear children and to care for men. The universe and anything beyond Earth was unimportant because it wasn't mentioned in the Bible. Sex was something that should occur only between one man and one woman, and always at the man's behest. A woman was to obey any command given to her by her husband. Any disobedience was a sin for which the man had a God-given right to punish her. Children were sacred and pure, especially girls, and they should remain that way until their wedding day, when God blesses them to protect them from the sins they are about to commit in order to consummate their marriage. These were things that the stranger understood to be true.

Karen turned and saw a man standing on the grass near one of the windows of her apartment. He said, “You're going to burn in hell, you filthy slut.”

Karen hurried to her door without responding. She was scared that she might be attacked, but the man stayed put, and she was able to get inside and lock the door behind her. When she looked
out her window, the man was still there, looking in at her. He said, “You won't get away with what you're doing. You know that, right? God punishes those who are impure.”

Karen closed her blinds and called the police. By the time they showed up, the man was gone. She gave a detailed description of the man, and when she asked if the police could leave someone outside her door for protection, they told her that if they posted an officer outside every woman's door who had a guy calling her a slut, they'd have no one left to stop the real crimes. Before they left, they suggested she buy a gun.

James Dobbs counted
out all the money he had in the world, some of which he had made from selling most of his belongings in a yard sale. In total, he had a little more than twelve hundred dollars. This was enough, he thought, to make it to California if he was frugal. Once he got there, he felt certain that God would provide him with whatever else he might need to fulfill his role in God's plan.

As he put the money in his pocket he looked at the things that were left over from his yard sale, the things no one had bought. There weren't many items. A set of pots and pans, an alarm clock, a framed print of a quote from the Bible—Mark 12:31,
You shall love your neighbor as yourself
—a few pairs of shoes, and four packs of unopened dental floss. He felt bad throwing these items away, but he knew they would be of no use to him from that moment on.

He put the items into a box and walked toward the community dumpster in the back of the parking lot of his apartment complex. As he approached it, he saw his next-door neighbor approaching it as well, carrying a bag of trash. As they met at the dumpster, James held the lid open for him to toss in his trash bag and his neighbor said, “I saw you out here earlier. Yard sale, huh? Just doing some spring cleaning or are you moving?”

God was ruler and creator of everything. Jesus Christ was his son. Neither of these entities cared if you were straight or gay or how you voted or about anything else other than how you treated other people. The universe was vast, and somewhere in it, God must have created other forms of life. The purpose of these other forms of life would likely never be known to humanity, which would likely never even encounter it. Sex was something that could be indulged in for fun or for procreation. The beauty of it was that it was so versatile, and this was the way God had made it. Children were good, and necessary to further the human race, but not everyone should have them, and in some cases, remaining childless was the most honest decision a person could make. These were things that James's neighbor understood to be true.

James explained that he was going on a trip and he didn't know how long he'd be gone, so he had sold some of his belongings for extra money to help him fund his travels.

His neighbor said, “Oh. Are you keeping the apartment?”

James told his neighbor that he wasn't keeping the place, because he didn't know how long he'd be gone or if he'd ever come back, but he didn't know who was moving in after him. He submitted his notice to the building manager and that was that. He further explained that he also quit his job.

His neighbor said, “Wow, clean break and a fresh start. That actually sounds really nice, man. I think most people wish they could do something like that. Well, for what it's worth, I know we didn't really get to know each other or anything, but you were a
great neighbor, man. About the best anyone could ask for. Quiet and everything, you know?”

James thanked his neighbor and told him that he was sorry they never got a chance to sit down and have a conversation. He thought that they might have gotten along pretty well, maybe even become friends.

His neighbor said, “Yeah, probably. So when are you leaving? Are you around tonight? Maybe get a beer or something?”

James told his neighbor that he was leaving as soon as he finished with the trash. He was looking forward to the next chapter in his life and he couldn't wait to start. Then, as James raised the box with the leftover items toward the dumpster, he saw the framed print of the quote from Mark 12:31. Feeling that this might be another sign from God, he took the framed print out of the box and asked his neighbor if he'd have a spot somewhere in his apartment for it.

His neighbor said, “Uh, yeah, I think I could find a spot. You sure you don't want to just take this with you, though? It's nice. You can hang it up in your next place.”

James became immediately nervous. Perhaps he'd overstepped, or perhaps this man wasn't even Christian. James asked him what his spiritual affiliation was.

His neighbor said, “Oh, I'm Christian. Don't get me wrong, I think it's nice, and it's very nice of you, too. I just didn't want to take something that seems to be kind of important to you, you know? I mean, if it's something that was personal to you, you should keep it.”

James was relieved that his neighbor was Christian. He explained that he felt it was fitting he should give it to his neighbor, especially because they didn't really know one another. It made the act even more reflective of the true meaning of the passage.

James's neighbor accepted the gift and said, “Well, thank you. I'll definitely put it up in my kitchen tonight.”

James told his neighbor that would make him happy, and that
he'd think about it when he was on the road. Then James lifted the box and tossed the other remnants in the dumpster.

His neighbor said, “Well, thanks for this, really. It was way too nice of you. Have a safe trip and good luck with whatever you're doing next.”

James thanked him and wished him well. His neighbor walked back up into his apartment and James made his way to his car. He had nothing now except his car, his phone, and the money in his pocket. He had no plan beyond getting to California—he had decided to head for Los Angeles unless God directed him elsewhere—and he had no means of supporting himself. He knew he should have been nervous, but he wasn't. Instead James felt free and exhilarated. He felt free from the normal burdens that most people are shackled by. He had no more reason to worry about his bills or his job. Like a knife freshly sharpened and lying on the butcher's block ready to be used, James felt honed to a point by God himself. He knew God was watching every move he made with great interest, and he wouldn't disappoint him.

As James pulled out of the parking lot he took one last look back at the complex. He had spent his entire adult life living in that one-bedroom apartment, and there was some small part of him that was sad to be leaving, but he knew that was just the Devil trying to make him second-guess what he knew he had to do. He got in his car, turned out into the street, and headed for the highway. As he did, he said a prayer thanking God for this opportunity and promising God that he wouldn't fail.

Karen got out
of her car and looked in the backseat, where she kept a few boxes of things and some clothes. She thought briefly about taking some of them out, but her back and hips were sore, and she hoped her father would help her later. She turned from her car and looked up at her parents' house. She hadn't lived there since she was in high school, and although she had no intention of moving back in with them, she did feel a strange sense of unwilling nostalgia creeping in. She forced herself to purge the idea, which would be a setback in her life. Staying with them now was just something she had to do given the circumstances. Her apartment was no longer safe.

As she knocked on the door, she began to dread the conversation she knew she'd have to have with her parents. She didn't know if it would happen immediately or the next morning or a month after she'd been living with them, but she knew she'd
have to sit down and answer their questions. She hoped, though, that for a time they'd just be happy to have her back in the house.

Her mother was usually the one who answered the door at their house. She remembered that from her childhood, and had always wondered how those roles had developed between her parents. This time, though, they answered the door together. Her mother, Lynn, hugged her, already crying, and said, “My baby girl, are you all right?”

God was something that each person could define for themselves. It wasn't necessarily a sentient entity that created everything, but maybe it was some kind of unifying energy that flowed through everything. Certainly there was something that every person carried inside, which conveyed a spirit or an animated quality that other animals didn't share, and this was too subtle and complex to be rationalized away as a simple product of the physical organ known as the human brain. Although human beings were a part of the natural world, we were set apart in a real and significant way. Sex wasn't sacred, but if it was in the context of a relationship with a person you cared about deeply, it could be much more than just a physical act. Children were not special or unique, but the relationships you developed with them were, and raising a child correctly was far more important than simply having the child. These were things that Karen's mother understood to be true.

Karen's father, Robert, hugged her next and said, “You know, we're going to have to talk about things. Get inside. Dinner's on the table. Let's eat, and then we can talk. Give me your keys, and I'll get whatever you have in the car.”

The idea of God was interesting and if implemented properly, had obvious benefits where the organization of societies was concerned. But never in history had it been implemented properly. It had only ever been used as an instrument of discrimination and subjugation. The universe was largely unknown, and it seemed increasingly likely that its nature would never be fully understood by humanity before we destroyed ourselves in one
way or another. But the pursuit of that understanding was still of value. Sexual interaction was necessary for the furtherance of the species, and the psychosocial components of it seemed to have become more important in modern society than the function. This was neither good nor bad, simply the way things were. Having children was a serious decision that should be made only after significant thought and planning. If a child was conceived through accidental means, abortion was certainly a viable option, but so was keeping the child and finding ways to do the best you could in the service of providing that child a life with all the benefits possible, as he had done with Lynn when she became pregnant with Karen. These were things that Robert understood to be true.

Karen said, “Thanks, Dad. There are a few things, not much, just some boxes and clothes.” Then she followed her mother into the kitchen, where dinner was waiting.

At first they ate quietly, with all participants reluctant to start the conversation. Her mother seemed hesitant to address the obvious issue, though she certainly wanted answers. Finally, her father took the initiative and said, “So, what exactly is going on? We haven't heard from you except for one short phone call since all of this started happening.”

Karen said, “That's not true. I've sent texts when Mom has texted me.”

Karen's mother said, “That's not what we're talking about. You know that.”

Karen took a deep breath and said, “Okay. I guess I'm doing a kind of experiment. That's really about it.”

Karen's father said, “An experiment? That's what you're calling this? Karen, you just showed up at our door with a car full of clothes because you don't feel safe at your place anymore. How is that an experiment?”

Karen said, “I actually think it's a good sign. It means that what I'm doing is affecting people.”

Karen's mother said, “It's affecting us. We saw you on TV, your interview. We're so worried about you.”

Karen said, “Don't worry about me. I'm all right.”

Karen's father said, “You're clearly not. Paul's gone. You got expelled.”

Karen said, “How did you know about that?”

Karen's mother said, “It was on the news.”

Karen's father said, “And how long do you think you can stay here before we've got weirdos lurking around in our bushes?”

Karen said, “Mom, Dad, I'm really grateful that you're letting me stay here. I'm not going to take that for granted. No one knows I'm here, and I'm going to be careful about when I leave and where I go. It will be fine. And then, once this ends, I'll go back to my place and things will go back to normal.”

Karen's father said, “I don't know if you've really thought this through, honey. Things probably won't ever go back to normal for you. You're a national figure now—hell, a global figure, I'd guess. And if you end up having this baby, that child will be a national figure for his or her entire life and you'll be tied to that story for the rest of yours.”

Karen said, “Well, I doubt I'm going to get the money. The donations have started to slow down. So you don't have to worry about it.”

Karen's mother said, “Why are we not talking about the thing we should be talking about here? Why are you doing this at all? Did we do a bad job raising you or something?”

Karen said, “Mom, no, of course not. You did a great job. I know you guys might disagree with what I'm doing, but I'm doing something that I feel needs to be done, something that's important to me. I'm not asking you to be okay with it. I know you're not, but I am asking you to help me because I'm your daughter and I need help.”

Karen's father said, “We're obviously helping you. You're staying with us. And we understand that this is important to you. But
I think what your mom is getting at is, why do you even feel the need to do this?”

Karen said, “Because this country is fucked up. The way women are treated is terrible, and it's getting worse. That, and because I just felt like I didn't want my life to be wasted at school doing meaningless work that no one cares about. I wanted to do something that would get people thinking and maybe even change the way they think.”

Karen's mother said, “You've always been a troublemaker. Even as a little girl. There was this cute little boy you used to play with who lived next door to us when you were very little. He used to tell you that he was going to marry you, and you'd tell him you were never getting married to anyone. One day he showed up to our door with one of those candy rings and told me he was going to ask for your hand in marriage that day and he wanted my blessing. So I gave it to him, and I let him out in the backyard where you were playing with our old dog, Molly. He walked up to you, got down on one knee, held out that ring, and asked you to marry him. Do you remember what you did?”

Karen said, “I don't remember any of this. I remember you telling this story a million times, but I don't remember the actual event at all.”

Karen's mother continued on without pausing to register Karen's comments. She said, “You said, ‘I'd never marry anyone who would kneel for anything.' Then you took that ring from him, put it in your mouth, and crunched off all of the candy in a few quick seconds while he sat there with his mouth hanging open. You handed him back the plastic part of the ring, with no candy left on it, and he started crying. I was watching from the doorway and I laughed pretty hard at the time, I'll admit it. But I knew we were in trouble from that day forward.”

Karen laughed and said, “I think I'd still do the same thing today.”

Karen's father said, “I think we all know that your mother and
I are never going to fully get why you want to do this, but we're here for you and we just want you to be safe and careful.”

Karen said, “I will be.”

They ate dinner without any further discussion of Karen's website or how it was affecting her life. They talked instead about what Robert was doing at work and what Lynn was planning for some new additions to their home. When they finished eating, they watched television together for a few hours until Lynn and Robert went to bed and Karen was left alone.

Before she unpacked her things, she went outside into her parents' backyard. They lived far enough out of the city that the sky was darker, and the stars were brighter than she was used to at her apartment. She remembered as a child spending hours in that backyard, lying in the grass looking out into space and wondering what might be out there. Her favorite thing to imagine was some other creature on some other planet lying down in some alien version of a backyard, looking out into their equivalent of the night sky and wondering if anyone was looking back. And then she'd imagine a million more planets with a million more creatures doing the exact same thing. Even as a child, Karen understood that the universe was vast and rich, and she lamented how she would very likely never get to see all the mystery and beauty that it held. She would very likely never even get to see all of the mystery and beauty held even on her tiny speck of dust called Earth.

After a few minutes of contemplating the endless possibilities of the universe, and forgetting why she was staying with her parents, Karen went back inside to settle into her bedroom.

It was strange being back in the room where she grew up. It hadn't really been changed since the day she left for college. The room had been dusted and vacuumed over the years, but her parents had never turned the room into anything else. They'd never felt the need to use the space for anything other than the memories it held.

Karen looked at pictures of herself from high school and tried to remember the events they captured. She hadn't thought about the boy she went to prom with for a very long time. In high school she was the president of the feminism club, which had only two other members. She regularly openly debated boys about the irrelevance of sports and sports culture. She tried to convince any girl she saw wearing a boy's letterman jacket that it was a symbol of his ownership over her. She made better grades than everyone else in her class, and took pride in it. And she could regularly be found in the cafeteria during her lunch period talking with female teachers about the inequality of pay between themselves and their male counterparts. Karen was certain that no boy would ask her to prom, and she was fine with that. Not only would she view it as a personal victory if no boys had the courage to ask her, not a single boy stood out in her mind as a worthy candidate anyway. So when this boy in the photo, whose name she could no longer remember, asked her to prom, she was shocked enough that she accepted. The boy, who sat next to her in calculus, was smart, and seemed well-intentioned enough, and prom was a rite of passage that Karen felt she should experience, if only to make her more informed in denouncing it.

She had viewed the idea of prom as purely platonic, but her date had other ideas. As the night wore on at their table, where they remained the entire night because Karen refused to dance, he told her that he'd had a crush on her for the entire year and he'd just been too afraid to talk to her because she was so intense. She remembered laughing at him, and she had always felt bad about that. He asked her if she wanted to go to an after-party a friend of his was throwing because his parents were out of town. She agreed, resigned to carry out this experience to its conclusion, to fully engage in prom.

Once at the party, she quickly became aware that it wasn't really a party. Four other couples were there at the house, along with three six-packs of beer. Shortly after Karen and her date
arrived, most of the couples went off to find their own secluded spot in the house, and he suggested they do the same. Karen told him that she had no interest in having sex with him that night, and he argued that they should. He wasn't forceful about it, instead trying to appeal to her logical sensibilities to get what he wanted. She thought it was amusing then, and still did, but she also realized how lucky she was, that it could have been much worse.

He told her that if she actually was interested intellectually in the full experience of prom, as she'd said a dozen times that night, then logically she should also want to engage in the most common culmination of such a night. He further argued that, even if it was bad, it would only strengthen whatever final negative judgment she would pass on the tradition as a whole. And if it was good, that that would give her at least one element of the night that she actually enjoyed, and that would be a victory in itself.

It was a sound argument, but Karen refused him bluntly, and the two of them shared a beer while they listened to another couple have sex very loudly in the next room before she asked her date to take her home. At the time the experience was absurd to Karen, but now in retrospect it was very sweet in its simplicity. She knew she'd never again in her life have an experience that simple.

She went to a dresser and started putting some of her clothes away, trying to ignore the pain in her lower back. She noticed one of her favorite pictures of her mother in a tiny frame on top of the dresser. It was taken the day before Karen was born. Her mother, Lynn, was smiling, standing in their backyard with the sun shining behind her and her hands on her belly. She wondered if her mother and father had ever thought about aborting her, or if they'd known from the beginning that they wanted to have a child. They never had a second, and she always assumed she was an accident they couldn't bring themselves to correct,
and Karen always felt some guilt about that, even though she knew it was irrational.