a grad student in the Psych dept.”
“Did he volunteer a last name?”
“No, he didn’t. I know it seems stupid now, but then it just seemed normal. He was talking about what goes on in the Psych graduate program and he seemed like an interesting guy. It was after nine, so we both decided to pack it in for the night. He asked me if I’d like to join him for a beer at La Val’s; it’s a student hangout on the north side of campus with an outdoor courtyard. Barry said he had to meet some friends there. I figured why not, maybe I’d meet some interesting people and unwind with a beer.
“Had you seen Barry before? At the library or on campus?”
“I’ve wracked my brain about this. I’m not sure. I might’ve seen him around but you see so many new people every day that it’s often a blur.”
“Would you recognize him, if you saw him again?”
“Oh yeah, you bet! No way I’d ever forget his face or his buddies either.”
“What happened when you got to La Val’s?”
“Barry’s friends were already there. There were two guys and a woman. They had killed a pitcher of draft beer and were laughing and joking about their work. Everything seemed okay. The one guy, John, who was with the woman, Joanie, was cracking everyone up describing how some campus nerds answered his marketing research questionnaire.”
“I know the place. It’s a nice place to drink a few brews, as I recall.” I sounded upbeat to keep her talking.
“Yeah, we had three or four pitchers. I wasn’t paying much attention. They were telling these outrageous stories about rats in cages and all the crazy things that go on in their research labs. We were all drinking a lot. I don’t normally drink except on weekends, but it was a Thursday night and I just said what the hell. I knew I was getting loaded but we were all having a good time and everyone seemed okay.”
“Was Barry hitting on you?”
“Not really. I could tell he was interested in me but he never made a pass. He was real funny, the way he described how the nerds in the psych labs scurry around just like the rats they study. He’d look at me for my reaction. The other guy, Steve, was telling us how the optometry grad students have labs full of cages off campus and do experiments on the eyes of live cats. It was gross. I didn’t have any idea that sort of stuff went on.”
I was confused. “Were these people involved in the rape?”
“No, not really. When we all decided it was time to go, Barry said he had a couple more friends he wanted me to meet. I was having a good time and since everything seemed cool, I said okay. We said goodbye to the other three and Barry drove up to a house in the Berkeley hills.”
“Do you remember where?”
“No, not really. I know we went up Euclid past the Rose Garden and then took a street that wound around the hills. I wasn’t really paying attention and it was dark. We were talking about the people I had met at La Val’s. Eventually, we turned down a little road and came to a house with a fabulous view.”
“Near Grizzly Peak?”
“I’m not sure. It was off the road and very private. I guess I should have been more observant.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s not important. Tell me what happened when you got to the house.” I didn’t want her to get sidetracked or weepy again.
“We went into the house. The lights were on low. Two guys were sitting in the living room in soft leather chairs sipping after dinner drinks and listening to R & B music with a great beat in an old fashioned jukebox. You know, the ones from the Fifties with rainbow, neon lights. They’d modified it to play CD’s. Everything looked cool and okay. Barry introduced me to the two guys. The black guy was named Earl and the white guy was named George.”
“Weren’t you afraid to be alone in a strange house with three men you’d never met before?”
“Not really. I felt comfortable with Barry. He’d already introduced me to his other friends who were fun to be with. These two guys were clean-cut and seemed nice, too. Earl said he was waiting for a call to go to the airport to pickup his girlfriend who was flying in from L.A. They were mellow. Earl gave me and Barry a snifter with some kind of sweet liqueur called dram… something. George punched some dance music to play on the jukebox.
“Drambuie?”
“Yeah, that was it. We chatted a while and Barry recounted what we’d been doing at La Val’s.”
“Did the two men seem to know the other three people you’d been drinking with earlier?”
“Yeah, one of them even asked about Joanie by name. They all seemed to know each other. Everything seemed super okay. The black guy, Earl, put on some reggae music with a fantastic beat and put a twenty dollar bill in a bowl on the table. He challenged us to a dance contest while he waited for his airport call. The twenty was prize money for the winner. Everyone laughed and asked if he was serious. He said jokingly, ‘Put your money where your mouth is.’ It was like a dare. George pulled out a twenty to match the bet and Barry put up forty to pay for me and him.” Mindy stopped to look at my reaction and took a swig of Coke. I was doing all I could to mask my thoughts about the way they were setting her up. I smiled my encouragement and nodded for her to continue.
“Since the music was reggae, Earl suggested a limbo contest. You know, where you have to dance under a bar without touching the floor. We took turns holding a long, metal fireplace poker for the limbo bar. We’d lower the bar lower and lower and force the dancer to try to dance under it. George fell backwards, flat on his ass and we almost broke a gut laughing at his antics when he tried to cheat by wiggling under the bar the way a duck walks. It was fun. I’m real limber and do a lot of dance for exercise. I won the contest easily.”
“Sounds like you were having a good time.” I was intrigued by how clever Barry and his friends were in engineering the seduction so far.
“Yeah, we were pooped from laughing so hard. We took a break while Earl called the airport to make sure his girlfriend’s plane was on time. We had some more to drink. George put on a Beach Boys tune on the jukebox and showed off his moves. He was hilarious, mimicking a guy on a surfboard riding a wave in beat to the music. He looked just like a surfer with his sun-bleached hair and bulging pecs. When he finished his routine, he suggested another kind of contest. Each of us had to select a tune and do a dance that illustrated the song and music. We drew lots for who had to go first and last. Earl lost the draw and went first.”
“George suggested we use props and dress to look the role we played. He picked a soundtrack from the movie, “Lawrence of Arabia.” We tied a blindfold around Earl’s eyes and wrapped a checkered dishtowel around his head to make him look like an Arab, you know, like Arafat wears?” I nodded my understanding and motioned for her to continue.
“Barry made him take off his shoes, socks and shirt to dance the part of a sheik. When my turn came, they took off my blouse, skirt, shoes and socks and wrapped a dish towel around my waist to make me look like a belly dancer. I had to dance to the Oldies’ song, “Little Egypt.” Mindy glanced at me and abruptly stopped her narrative.
I was flabbergasted. “You mean you let these three guys undress you down to your panties and bra without protesting?”
“I
