Chapter 35 -- Heather's window of opportunity
While Tracy was absent dealing with the affairs of the newest resident of the Four-Beta house, Lisa found out the hard way what it was like not to be under her protection. Sergeant-at-Arms Heather perceived a small window of opportunity to force Lisa to quit the sorority, and had every intention of pursuing it. Lisa was going to get out of class early that day, which would give the Sergeant-at-Arms some time to try to break her.
That morning, as Heather and the pledges neared the Economics Building, the Sergeant-at-Arms had something ominous to say:
"Pledge, I have some real problems with your performance. We can deal with it this afternoon, when I pick you up. I'll have you to myself for a while, so that'll give you something to look forward to."
"Yes, ma'am."
At 3:00 p.m. the Four-Beta Sergeant-at-Arms returned to retrieve Lisa. As she went to her knees, Lisa remembered Heather's promise of "dealing with" the problems she had the day before due to her fatigue. A quick glimpse of Heather's face indicated that no, she had nor forgotten what she had said earlier in the day.
The first detail that worried Lisa was what Heather was wearing. Heather normally dressed in cargo pants and Four-Beta blouses whenever on campus, but that afternoon she was wearing a light T-shirt, old jogging shorts, and a pair of beach sandals. She carried neither a purse nor a backpack. Instead, she was carrying an umbrella. Lisa realized that she had dressed with the expectation of getting wet. Lisa's concern mounted when Heather told her to leave her backpack and books in Burnside's office.
Lisa reluctantly followed Heather out of the Economics Building and onto a sidewalk leading to the old part of campus. Without saying a word, the Sergeant-at-Arms abruptly walked into a grassy area that was used for impromptu rugby games, and thus very muddy.
Heather suddenly screamed at Lisa to get into the front-leaning-rest position. Lisa quickly complied, realizing with horror that the sorority officer's shouting had just drawn the attention of several dozen students who happened to be walking around the area. As a growing audience of young people stood watching, Heather's voice snarled:
"ONE...TWO...THREE..."
"One!"
"ONE...TWO...THREE..."
"Two!"
"ONE...TWO...THREE..."
"Three!"
"ONE...TWO...THREE..."
When Lisa became too tired to continue doing pushups, Heather ordered her on her back to do sit-ups, apparently not in the least concerned that it was quite obvious that Lisa's thong had pushed to one side, leaving her crotch partially exposed every time she sat up. Lisa struggled to do the exercises and tried to ignore the guys staring at her with incredulous, aroused expressions. There were yet more push-ups and then more sit-ups, and finally a horrible exercise called "the dying cockroach" which required Lisa to lie on her back, put her feet in the air, and move her legs as though she were pedaling an invisible bicycle.
When Lisa's body gave out the unhappy session ended, but now her uniform was filthy and covered with grass stains. Her skin was saturated with sweat and her body stunk because she had not been allowed to use deodorant. In front of the spectators, Heather got in her face and snarled:
"You're a disgrace, Pledge! An absolute fucking disgrace! What's this shit with your uniform? You call yourself a Four-Beta looking like that? Come-on, Pledge, let's get some answers! What gives you the fucking right to disgrace your uniform with this filth?"
Heather punctuated her last sentence with several vicious pokes to Lisa's chest.
"I was exercising, ma'am! That's why I got dirty, ma'am!"
"So we have a little piggie who likes to roll in the dirt, don't we? OK, little piggie who likes to roll in the dirt, how about some low-crawling?"
Lisa looked at Heather in horror. Low-crawling?
"Come-on little piggie, LOW-CRAWL! NOW!"
Lisa, still dismayed at how quickly Heather's fury had escalated, did as she was told. In the hot afternoon sun she lay down on the wet ground and began dragging herself towards the sidewalk. Before she had gone very far her entire front was covered with mud and grass stains that would be almost impossible to get out. Her hair clips came undone and grass blades worked their way into her hair. More grass worked its way into her shirt and under her thong. Her white tennis shoes were covered with mud, along with her hands and knees.
"Not low enough, Pledge! Not low enough! You'd better show me some real low crawling, just like that butch Tracy would do in the Army! Imagine you got people shooting at you from the tree line! Come-on soldier, let's see some REAL low-crawling!"
