Tempestuously Acquiescent

I could barely wait to begin drinking again. Of course, they were always watching now. Strict curfews, transparent itineraries, lists of acceptable friends. In my more courageous moods I lit a cigarette on my walks to yet another chaperoned event- inhaling fleeting freedom.

Unfortunately, the favourable consumption of alcohol requires time, it requires space. I remained constrained. So I did wait. Awaited a break-down of vigilance, a resumption of apathy, a recreation of distraction. But the downstairs dorm authority retained his justified suspicion- he had once been a dorm kid (a disaffected one at that) and knew that I was beyond their cheap platitudes. I would drink again if he looked away, so he looked on.

Other authorities picked up on his paranoia. One day the inestimable Mr. Garland approached me. "I heard you talking to a dorm mate the other day and you mentioned that you had done something that would get you in trouble."

"Uh... I think that I might have been kidding"

"Just be careful, you know that you have signed that contract."

So we've gotten to the circumscription of my teenage posturing.

Now we were really getting down to it. My mind shook with fury at my vicarious father's surveillance; if I hadn't needed a drink before I needed one now. Yet he stood at the bottom of the stairs "where are you off to?" at the threshold of my room "who are you seeing this weekend?"

The next step was always inevitable. Although at the time.

The Contract

In the early days of my eleventh year of schooling, the dorm authorities called me in.

"I have recently talked to someone who claims that you are drinking again" Mr. Garland, the dorm supervisor began.

A rat- I thought and immediately winnowed the list of suspects. While I pondered my Brutus, I mumbled platitudes about not-really-possibly-recalling-in-a-way-with-some-caveats-under-the-auspices-of-a-social-engagement-only-over-dinner-and-only-ever-wine (Christ that was unconvincing).

"Well since we know you drank we are going to have to lay out some sort of consequences for if you do this again" he intoned and produced a sheet of paper "we'll need you to sign this."

Ten points, no drinking, no smoking, no drugs etc.

"And if I do not?" I asked.

"We'll have to ask you to leave the dorm and the school."

I guess I could have seen that coming. I looked over the paper again. Boilerplate except for number six, which read that I could no longer discuss controversial topics with my dorm mates.

"What is this proscription?" I asked

"Well, it has come to our attention that you have talked with some of the other kids about whether some things are actually sinful, like swearing, and we consider those conversations a bad influence."

Well fuck, thats interesting. I knew I had to sign this totalitarian screed but I had to express some discontent. It was about an hour before dinner and because I had nowhere to be, I decided to reread the one page for the full hour before signing just to slightly inconvenience my dorm parent. It was a totally pointless protest which bored me as much as it did him, but we all need our share of empty acts.

That evening, after dinner, I sat in my dorm room at the beginning of another grounding.

In my mind, I had another drink.