LULU STOOD IN the vestibule of Grafton Hall, home of the English Department and Ephraim Russell’s classroom. The dilemma regarding what to wear for her social experiment had been resolved neatly. Most—well, all—of her clothes were designer, and she hated the idea of ruining them. Also, rich and privileged wasn’t what she was going for here. She had considered blue jeans, but they would rip, and nothing said chic like distressed jeans, so jeans were out, too. Then she’d had an idea, one she thought terribly clever. She ran out to the—ugh—Gap that morning and bought three pairs of khakis and a couple of blue button-down shirts. Back at Duffy, she tried them on and examined herself in the mirror. God knows, she wouldn’t be caught dead wearing something like this under normal circumstances, but the outfit hit the mark. Khakis and blue button-downs were exactly what Ephraim Russell wore every day. That the outfit was vaguely butch was an added bonus; it would play with the militant fems. She’d also made it a point to go without makeup and not wash her hair.
She picked up a gym bag she’d brought and removed the lone item inside: an old cast-iron ball and chain. There had been plenty to choose from on eBay, including fake plastic ones, but plastic wouldn’t do. It cheapened the message. The real ones ranged in weight from seven to fifteen pounds; she’d gone with the seven-pounder. No need to make this any harder than it was already going to be.
Tossing the gym bag aside, Lulu clasped the bracket around her right ankle and slipped a pin through the small hole to secure it. She wore heavy socks, hoping to avoid too much chafing.
She walked out the door, ball in her arms, and glanced at her watch. It was a cheap Casio purchased that morning. (Her Cartier?—not on earth.) It was precisely nine p.m. She’d deliberately chosen a quiet hour so there would be no confusing her “mission” with anything else that might be going on. This is going to be a serious pain in the ass, but fuck it. Fuck all of them.
Taking a deep breath, she dropped the iron ball onto the stone path. It made an enormous clank. A couple of nearby students turned and looked, but only briefly. Strange things were always happening on campus. Lulu then dropped to all fours and began.
To crawl.
She painted her face with a look of tragedy, one she’d practiced in the mirror earlier. And she crawled. It was slow going, but she crawled.
Her route was carefully thought out. Beginning at Grafton, it crossed Bingham Plaza, traveled down Mathers Walk, across Dudley Street, and through the East Quad gate. Fortunately, Duffy was the first house on the Quad. Crossing Dudley might be tricky, but traffic should be light this time of the evening. All told, the journey was about 250 yards, and it was going to completely suck.
As she crept across the largely empty Bingham Plaza, the iron ball made a metallic, scraping sound as it dragged behind her. Bingham was a broad granite space bordered by Grafton, Stockbridge, and the Dix. Piles of snow were still around but the path was clear. Just a puddle here and there.
The iron ball didn’t seem to be an issue yet, but her knees concerned her. It wasn’t like she’d ever crawled hundreds of yards on stone before, plus it was fucking cold. She only had the button-down, plus a T-shirt underneath. The granite felt even colder than the air, and the feeling of it seeped up through her hands and arms. Gloves would have been nice, but they might also have lessened the visual, the authenticity.
She almost laughed at that thought. This was perhaps the least authentic thing she’d ever done, but if she’d noticed anything in her half year at Devon, it was that people here were gullible as hell, particularly if the message was something they wanted to hear.
A few students noticed her, but only laughed. Was it sorority pledge season? Perhaps an art project? She made her way down Mathers, with its rows of antique streetlights poking through the snowbanks. Some other students came from the other direction but gave her a wide berth. God, I feel stupid, Lulu thought.
Arriving at Dudley Street, she considered her situation. Mathers dead-ended into the normally busy street, and she needed to get across. There was a crosswalk, and a traffic light that was activated by a large metal button. She crossed here several times a day and knew that pushing the button activated a green light with a fifteen-second countdown timer. That wasn’t much time (city planners hadn’t taken potential crawlers into account), but standing and walking was out of the question. Reaching up, she pushed the button. A few seconds later the light changed to green and several cars came to a stop. She crawled out into the street, one hand after another, right through the glare of headlights. Both her hands and knees were in considerable discomfort. Halfway across, the orange numbers on the countdown timer said five seconds. She was shuffling as fast as she could, considering she was dragging a large iron ball, but it wasn’t fast enough. Still, she refused to stand. When the timer ran out, she had at least twelve feet to go. Several cars started honking. One man leaned out his window and yelled, “Crazy bitch!” Another just drove right around her, horn blaring. Lunging the last few feet, she finally reached the other side. She waited a few moments, catching her breath and allowing her pulse rate to subside. Shit, that was no fun. Thankfully, the gates to East Quad were right in front of her. It only remained to go through them, take a brief left, and she was at the entrance to Duffy.
Three stone steps led up to Duffy’s door. When she reached there, someone came out, a classmate. “Hey, are you okay?”
Lulu said nothing. She didn’t—wouldn’t—respond. The boy walked on, perplexed.
She made her way up the three steps, each bowed by generations of undergraduate feet. Standing at last, she turned to face East Quad. The large yard had crisscrossing paths and six separate freshman dorms. It was mostly empty at this hour, with most of her classmates either in their rooms or at a library. She could see maybe a dozen people out near the center of the quad walking this way or that.
Then, to an audience of none, Lulu drew a deep breath of cold air and threw her arms back, as if offering herself. And she let out the longest, loudest scream of her life.