Morg was out of his element. This wasn’t too uncommon an occurrence. But Morg wasn’t surrounded by flower-children every day. Morg steered clear of the College. But the case came first. Knowlton House might hold some clues. To Knowlton he went.
The girls didn’t like him, and he returned the favor. Each regarded the other as an unfortunate anachronism. To the students, Morg was patriarchy itself. They were sure his necktie was Freudian—to say nothing of his snub-nose. But Morg would have been equally glad to leave behind his own memories. Morg had known plenty of hippie peers. He had despised them for it. He didn’t see any need to revive the trend.
Morg tried to question them. Tried to elicit information from what he regarded as an unwashed mob. Worse, they were an unshaven mob. Morg didn’t go for that. He didn’t see the point of going to a girls’ school if they didn’t act like girls.
One girl in the back seemed especially amused. Her eyebrows were heavy, but her eyes danced—nonsensically, Morg thought. She alternated between looking high and mephistophelean. Morg shoved the girls in between them away as he made his way to her. She was holding a roll of toilet paper in either hand, but he didn’t pay any heed to that.
“Where were you last night at 3:00 a.m.?”
She smirked. ”I was with my girlfriend. I don’t live in Knowlton anymore. I’ve graduated two years ago.”
“What the devil are you doing here now?”
She lifted up the rolls of toilet paper. ”Just came back to get supplies.”
”What have you been doing been doing for the past two years that you can’t buy toilet paper for yourself, kid?”
She shrugged. ”I do what I please. I’m free. You’re not, man. You know, my friends were pornstars in Toronto? They left after after an STD scare and hitchhiked down to South Carolina. They got caught in a hurricane they didn’t even know was coming! I haven’t done anything like that. I want to live.”
He wasn’t impressed. ”I’m old enough to remember when your parents were all like that. What, did you gals all come from a colony or something? I’ll tell you what I told them—and I wasn’t any older than them. Get a job.”
She laughed. ”I have two jobs. I have everything I want.”
“Well, it ain’t enough, kid. Get a real one.”
“Isn’t that just like society? Tell me what I want. You’re just a stooge for capitalism. You don’t have to work for the city to be a pig, Mr. Private Eye. Resist the neoliberal tyranny!”
Morg rolled his eyes. ”Capitalist tyranny? Maybe I don’t know all about that. And maybe I don’t like all of it. Do whatever you want, sister. But I’m pretty sure I like the part of the tyranny where you wipe your own ass with your own toilet paper.”