The president of Marston College, a plump, pleasant-faced woman named Miss McIllhenney, had finished her sunny welcoming remarks, and now it was Miss Toopermann's turn to address the freshman class of '56. There was nothing sunny about Toopermann. She was dean of deportment, but among students, and even some faculty, her title was "Toop the Snoop."

"You are here to be educated," she told the young women who filled the chapel. "But education involves more than books and labs and term papers. You will become Marston women, women with poise and confidence, women who have inner freedom because they have inner discipline. Many young men, some of them your older brothers, or your fathers or uncles, died in Europe and the Pacific to preserve your freedom. Others died just a few years ago in Korea. Freedom is precious - but it is not a synonym for licentiousness."

SG sighed and squirmed. It was going to be one of those lectures. Hadn't she heard enough such nonsense at Midvale High - and at home from her cousin, Superman?

Drinking was absolutely forbidden, Miss Toopermann went on, since drink led to far worse behavior. Smoking, too, was forbidden. It was unladylike, and some doctors even believed it was unhealthy. Unchaperoned contact with the boys from nearby Lackanooka Junior College was also off-limits.

The list of thou-shalt-nots continued, and SG's mind began to wander. What would she do when they got out of chapel? Her "big sister," a junior named Estelle, had told her that the really neat girls met every afternoon at the malt shop on Druid Avenue. Estelle was one of the really neat ones. Her beauty was so different from SG's. She was almost SG's height, but slender, and she had dark, curly hair and the delicate face of a china doll. SG was athletic and blonde. Boys were attracted to her. Heck, even girls were attracted to her. But Estelle was truly beautiful - like a movie star. Like Teresa Wright or Jean Simmons.

Toopermann's voice rose and brought SG back to the here and now. "One offense will not be tolerated at Marston, and that offense is lying. If you tell a lie, we will discover it, and you will be exposed and expelled. There are no exceptions to this rule."

Oh, great, thought SG. Here I am living a lie from the moment I set foot on this campus. Sallie Gale. I'm supposed to be some bubblehead named Sallie Gale. And I'm supposed to be just another 18-year-old, all-American girl. No one is supposed to know that I can run faster than a race car, fly faster than an F-86, and lift 70 times my bodyweight.

Good grief! I've got all these powers, and they send me here undercover to break up a penny-ante dope ring. Marijuana. Mary Jane. Grass. Some of the boys at Lackanooka and even a few Marston girls were supposed to be smoking pot.

Big deal. Big fuc-. SG censored herself. Superman hated coarse language. If she started thinking dirty words, pretty soon she'd be saying them. Then she'd have to listen to a lecture 20 times longer and more boring than Miss Toopermann's.



# # #



The orientation session ended at 2 o'clock, and Estelle suggested they stroll over to O'Malley's. Several other girls joined them, including SG's roommate, a bookish girl named Julia who wore thick glasses and argyle knee socks and whose only possible attraction to the opposite sex was a pair of large, nicely shaped breasts.

The malt shop was full of boys and girls from Garfield High School, along with a sprinkling of Marston students. "Blueberry Hill" was playing on the jukebox.

SG, Estelle and Julia slipped into a booth. Trish, the captain of the volleyball team, grabbed the fourth seat.

"We can use someone tall like you," Trish said, after being introduced to SG. "Did you play sports in high school?"

"Yes. Some. I liked track and field best, but I played volleyball, too."

"Speaking of sports," said Estelle in a low voice, "here comes the biggest, dumbest jock at Lackanooka. Whatever you do, don't attract his attention."

Three young men had entered the shop, laughing and talking too loud. One of them was huge - at least six and a half feet tall. SG estimated that he weighed over 250 pounds.

"His name is Louie," Estelle whispered. "He's on the football team. And he was a high school champion at the shot put. But mostly he's an All-American asshole."

Mr. O'Malley was frantically trying to wave the newcomers away.

"You're not allowed in here," he protested. "The people at your college and the people at Marston agreed you boys would stay away."

"Aw, go screw yourself, O'Malley," said Louie. "We're free, white and 21. We can go anywhere we damn please."

"I'm calling the dean," O'Malley said angrily, reaching for the phone that hung on the wall.