THE INQUISITION

The day had been long and hot. Flies buzzed in and out of the open windows. Nothing moved in the room except the fleshy man whose pencil drummed an endless tattoo on the file folders stacked in front of him. He licked his lips and lit a cigar. A piece of tobacco hung on the corner of his mouth. Sweat streamed down his swollen, red face; it ran down the back of his neck into his collar, already wet and brown with dirt and sweat. Only minutes had passed since I had been shown into the room, but I was already hot and restless. I wanted to be anywhere but there, facing Clayton Javits, the head of a southern state committee investigating communism and homosexuality. From where I was sitting, I could see my name at the top of the folder over which Javits was hunched. Finally, he looked up. I could see the glint of malice in his eyes as he leaned toward me. I recoiled in disgust from this illmannered, illiterate hog-thief who had set himself up to investigate college professors and students.

Javits' mouth curled into an ugly leer when he saw my revulsion. He looked like a vicious animal, cowering and snarling in a cage. But I was aware at every moment that I was the animal in the cage, and Javits my tormentor, who watched my every reaction with malicious delight. He rolled the cigar from one side of his mouth to the other.

"Heh. Well now, I know what you're here for, eh?"

I thought to myself: "So this is the man who will base his political reputation on the ruined lives of college students and professors. This is the man who will eventually base his bid for the Governorship of this state or, worse, his bid for a seat in the U.S. Senate on a string of discredited intellectuals." "Well, I'm waitin'. Y'all goin' to cooperate young lady, or do I have to git nasty?"

"Mr. Javits, I don't know what you want, so instead of wasting my time, why don't you come right to the point?"

"Ha!" He leaned back in his chair. "I sorta thought we might sit and have a nice little titatit. Ha ha ha!"

"I have nothing to say to the likes of you."

His chair slammed forward and he wasn't laughing. "Whatsa matter? Think you're such hot stuff, eh? Goin' to college. Learnin' fancy idees. You think you can outsmart me, eh?" Well, we'll soon see."

Javits went back to shuffling papers, chewing concentratedly on his cigar all the while. Every few minutes he glanced at me from the corner of his eye, like a dog sizing up an adversary, waiting for a sign of weakness. It was he who broke the silence.

"I'll tell you what. You and me'll make a deal. You be nice and cooperate with me and the "vestigatin' committee, and then we'll pretend we don't know you're here. You give me the names of your queer friends here at school, and we'll leave you be. How's that?"

"No deal, Mr. Javits. I don't understand."

""You don't unnerstan'. Who you tryin' to kid? You know why you're here,