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Then Patrick says: “Your notes mention a radio program.”
“Talk Back with Saint-Jacques,” Bastien says. “WFVN. It’s not paid, but—”
“Why isn’t it paid?”
“Because the university isn’t paying me for anything at present, so there’s no mechanism—”
“Before that,” Patrick says. “Before the suspension. Why wasn’t it going to be paid?”
Bastien blinks. “Community outreach is part of the standard faculty contract. I would have been doing it unpaid regardless. Everyone does.”
I look at him.
“So,” Patrick says, carefully, “as a condition of your employment, you were required to perform unpaid community service.”
“It’s standard—”
“And now you’re going to be doing it from inside a closet,” I finish.
Patrick makes a discontented sound. “You were prevented from doing something you have agreed to do before any finding against you. I can see, perhaps, removing you from an individual class, or even, if things were deeply egregious and involving allegations from multiple students, from your teaching obligations. This is draconian. You’ll need to show damages. Has anything in your life changed as a result of being removed from your post?”
“I moved into a trailer in the Needles. This morning, a student handled my underclothes.”
“That was me,” I say.
“No. That tall guy, Ghost. He just walked up and says Delphine sent him and the next thing I know he’s moving furniture into our trailer.”
Patrick smiles. “How is Ghost?”
I lean forward. “He’s great. He says hi. Said you were the best.”
“Keeping out of trouble?”
“Ish,” I answer.
Bastien closes his eyes and has to take a few deep breaths. “You know him,” he says. “My lawyer knows him.”
“I represented him,” Patrick says. “Twice.”
“Yes,” Bastien says. “That’s rather my point.”
Patrick turns the page in the new folder. “Now, for Saint-Jacques v. Department of Veterans Affairs.” He puts aside one folder and opens the next. “My first question for you is, why didn’t you get a lawyer who happens to have served in the military to represent you?”
“Thank you!” I answer back. “Seriously, Bastien, why did you choose that guy to be your lawyer? He was terrible.”
“He went to Georgetown,” Bastien says. “And he was pro bono.”
“And you got what you paid for,” I grumble.
“Well, this one, I’m doing pro bono,” Patrick says. “I read over the transcripts—and your very thorough annotations, Levi—and I have several thoughts. We’re not going to go relitigate the treatment protocols for ayahuasca, which I believe are solid, scientifically based, and, frankly, exciting. Robby’s death was a tragedy, but it does not erase the valuable work you’re doing. On behalf of veterans, I respect what you’re doing. You take veteran mental health very seriously, and the fact that you have been cleared does not exonerate the board from a persecution that was deeply personal.”
“I told you!” I crow. I turn back to Patrick. “Persecution. Sing it, brother.”
Bastien sighs. “Well, I didn’t see it at the time.”
“We really need to talk about your self-esteem,” I say.
“You seriously did not just go there,” he shoots back at me.
