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‘Myra! My-ra!’ I heard Lee. I kept hearing my name.
The office was packed now with people on the floor and at the walls. Chris’s eyes were like those small laser flashlights that can stun you from miles away. Smoke hung low over everyone’s heads. Lee was smiling at me. She looked proud.
‘Let us welcome our young writer here. Myra, everyone, the partner of Aaron.’
Everyone turned to look at me and clapped. Jen and Charlene were behind me. They were clapping too. I felt sick. Chris stood up. He was short, my height. His T-shirt had a dripping map of the world on it, as if the world were made of blood. In the corner it said: Fuck off. I felt a contact high from Chris that was not pot. I squatted low behind Aaron to get away. Lee was right up at the front of the room, near Chris’s throne. She looked at Chris kind of deferentially, I thought.
He reminded me of a tomcat. I pressed my breasts into Aaron’s back on purpose. I could feel him happy that I was doing that, sweating.
‘We have an interesting thesis to discuss tonight, everyone. Myra, would you do the honours and introduce your idea?’
I shook my head no. Aaron tried to buck me off him.
‘You should,’ he whispered.
I shook my head again, but I stood up.
Chris was looking at my body, lasers on my tits. My knees went buttery like they had with Elijah.
‘We were going to be discussing Spartacus tonight for our inaugural lecture, the most renegade of slaves.’ Chris smiled at me. ‘When our good friend Lee happily forwarded me your essay, Myra. It was quite a brilliant coincidence. The revolt of slaves is in the air.’
The revolt of slaves is in the air ...
‘When Lee told me further, Myra, that you were only sixteen, I’ll tell you the truth, I was even more impressed. Your concerns are not vital for a person your age. And yet, in past times, as we know, the teenage girl was an important resource, a medium for struggle. Emma Goldman was radicalized as a young woman your age. Marta too, the first female slave to rise up against the Romans, was only thirteen ... So there is a history of fiery young women like yourself.’
Fiery? I started laughing. Did the tomcat want me to strip in the centre of flames?
‘So, Myra, please tell us your thoughts.’
Shame smashed together with shame. I just stood there. Wished we could talk about Hegel: the master in love with the slave and the slave with the master, a circle, until the master was slave and slave had her power. Chris lit a joint. I liked his red beard. What about multiple slaves in love with one master?
Aaron stood up. ‘Myra’s kind of shy but she’s read a lot. Agamben and Weil, for starters, right, My?’
I felt suddenly pissed off at Aaron and Lee for putting me in this position. I was not a blank slate. Slaves revolt.
‘I read about porn stars,’ I said.
Jen and Charlene started cracking up behind me.
‘Ah, the vanguard,’ Chris said. He thought he knew why I was opposing him.
‘There’s this cool site I subscribe to called realteenwhores.com.’
‘He’s cool, Myra, Chris is cool,’ Aaron whispered at my ear. ‘Want to go wait for me in the kitchen? Me and Lee got business for a sec.’
People started to talk to each other, stand up. Chris raised his hand and in a second everyone was quiet. ‘Our newest members, Jen and Charlene, will be making us a meal of sprouted buckwheat burritos,’ Chris said. ‘Myra, perhaps you should go help them out if you don’t want to be a part of our teach-in.’
Everyone looked at me. ‘I wouldn’t eat what they made,’ I said.
Lee guffawed. I didn’t care what anyone thought. I just wanted to leave and get to Elijah.
Chris looked amused. ‘Break, please, everyone. We’ll reconvene after grub. Jen and Charlene, you have my apologies. Myra, wait here.’
Everyone left the little room. Aaron kissed me on the cheek as he left, but it was cold. I knew that he was angry with me. Chris held my essay, which was only four pages. He motioned for me to come over to get it. His arms were thin and bulging with veins.
‘Sit down, please, Myra,’ Chris said when we were alone. He passed me his joint.
‘Yes, sir?’ I said, cross-legged in front of him, looking up. I held his green eyes as I sucked in my smoke. It tasted weird, like poppy seeds. It was easy to blow light and upward in a perfect curled line.
