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“Wow. So it’s an actual witch-burning.” I turn my gaze to the man. “And you so innocently call this ‘speaking up’…?”
The man shrugs. “She’s creating a space for violence to happen. She’s asking for it.”
She’s asking for it.
I glance over at the bar in fury, only to find Rory leaning against it as he waits to be served, watching me with interest, as though genuinely intrigued about what I’ll say next. But the man’s previous statement was so stupid, so downright repugnant, that I can barely grab hold of my thoughts, thoughts that whirl around my dizzy head like the strings from balloons, until I pluck one from the air that seems solid and well-formed.
“Don’t you get it?” I ask him slowly. “Noneof this is democratic. None of it! The harassment, the intimidation… If we’re to protect democracy, those who take part in it need to be guaranteed that they’ll be able to do so without the threat of bullying.”
“It’s hardlybullying,” the man scoffs, almost laughing into his drink. “It’s a reminder of her place. Good-natured ribbing among political opposites, as has occurred since time immemorial.” He places his drink back down with a shrug. “She made her bed when she first spewed her hate. She can lie in it.”
“And when people turn on you,” I press, “for a political belief thatyouhold? If thecorrectbelief of the day contradicts your own values? If masked goons follow you around, because you have the temerity to think the earth is round instead of flat? What then?What then?”
“Oi!” someone shouts, and I glance up in the direction of the voice to discover the barman glaring straight at us. He points to a piece of paper pinned on the wall behind him, which has had printed in a large typeface,NO POLITICS. “I’m warnin’ you. All of you.Shut it.”
Silence descends in the pub. The barman’s shouts have attracted interest in me from the rest of the pub, and it feels like they’re all standing with me, supporting my words somehow. Rory’s still watching me avidly, now with poured drinks beside him but seemingly no desire to interrupt me mid-flow. Approval shines across his face, and the more I speak, the prouder he looks.
I realize I’m getting quite high on this, on this power that makes the rest of the world shut up and listen.
I focus on the woman instead of the man, feeling like he’s a lost cause whereas she’s shown sparks of dissatisfaction with the current situation. “Different opinions are not personal attacks,” I tell her in a low voice, so as not to upset the barman again, and it may just be the alcohol boosting my courage and making me think I’m more essential than I am, but it feels like everyone in the entire pub leans forward to catch my next words. “They’re not existential threats. And they’re nothate— especially when anything other than complete capitulation is hatred to Antiro. And if you claim otherwise, then that makes me skeptical. I’m skeptical of you and Benji—” There are scandalized gasps at this, as though I’ve just said a no-no word, “—and of the rest of the political elite trying to push through intolerant political dogma. It goes by another name, and it’s called fascism.”
Disco lights suddenly blare. A TV screen at the back switches to bright blue. There’s the sound of an electronic organ from somewhere, and it’s as if I’m suddenly residing inside a funfair.
I wonder if I’m having some kind of fit.
“Right!” the barman snaps. “That’s it! Big Mary, you’re on.”
At first I’m worried that Big Mary’s going to don a pair of knuckle-dusters and bust my face open for talking too loudly.
As I’m glancing around the pub for Big Mary, deafened by the electronic organ music, it takes me a while to focus on what the guy beside me is saying.
“There’s a deeply entrenched culture of bullying against Antiro members.We’reactually harassed.We’reactually intimidated. You want intolerance? Try living our lives! So the fact you’re siding with them when we’re trying to get the best deal for everyone and live our lives proves what kind of person you are: the most selfish cunt imaginable.” My gaze finally slides to him, bewildered. “So just admit you hate Antiro and fuck off.”
And before I can stop him, he picks up his drink and moves to toss it over me.
