All the while that was happening, my parents decided that mine was a terrible mind to waste (Please support the United Centaur College Fund!), so came September of 1986, at the tender age of 21, off to Portland State University went I!
Beyond the brief (heh!) concern of public nudity (hey! I wear a T-shirt and keep my tail long!), there wasn't anything too unusual, my admission scores were good, and tuition would be paid. As to how I would commute, a brief stint with the local transit authority (Tri-Met) proved to be a total failure and riot.
Bus Driver (looking bored): Hello, Miss, please step a-HOLY $#**!!
Me: Driver? Could I please use the 'lift? I can't quite make it through these doors.
BD: Uh, uh, uh, sure. Hold on a sec. Razafrazamazas....
Grind grind goes the gears.
BD: Miss? You, ahem, you *weigh* too much. Could you get in without the lift?
Me: I think so, do these doors open any wider?
By then ALL of the passengers were staring.
Me: Oomf! Ugh! Ok! I'm in! Where do I sit? Can I use the handicap area?
BD: Lady, you'll have to use the WHOLE handicap area!
Lift, lift goes the two side seats.
BD: Here. Sit down, er, lay down, whatever you do. Do it.
Me: Ok. (Sit) Now what?
BD: Now I do this! (He pulls out straps and fastens me down, hard.)
BD: Where do you want off, lady?
Me: Just downtown. First stop's ok.
BD: Ok, Oak Street. (Stomps forward) Razafrazamazasafras...
The bus rides were quiet. I'm pretty sure that if it weren't for the engine noise, pin droppings would be deafening. Each morning, though, it was a different driver. I had that effect on people. Eventually, I was able to secure one of those minibuses that are used to move disabled passengers around. I wasn't disabled, but the feds didn't want to arouse any undue suspicion. My surveillance team did make themselves apparent, heck, they drove the bus! I started to call the male agents Joe, and the female ones Jane. They didn't reveal their names to me, so oh well. We did pick up other passengers (if only to head off some suspicion), but they were all blind. I didn't mind, at least I had someone to talk to on the bus ride to and from the university.
My first day at school was a bit traumatic, as what I expected. I had always thought of myself as odd, it just that my oddness showed itself more. The stares, the gawks, finger-pointings, all of that. It started to bother me. I needed to start making friends.
One day, while people were bunching up, waiting outside of an auditorium for biology 101, myself included, I started up a conversation.
"Is it like this all the time for biology?" I asked no one in particular.
One short fellow spoke up, "Yeah, all the time for the first day of the class." He motioned, "And we're the first."
"Gee," I said, "I thought that 10 o'clock was the second."
"It was, until the schedule change at the last minute, one week before classes started."
"Oh." [Oooh! Good response, Mavra!] I thought to myself, [How about, 'duhh. . .'?]
Before I could say anything more, he talked some more. "Are you from around here? I don't remember being told about horse-people in Portland."
"Yes," I said, "I was born here, in fact. But I'm not a 'horse-person.' I'm a centaur." Half-conspiratorially, I looked around, and kneeled down to him and whispered, "I'm on a secret mission to get an education!"
He chuckled a bit at that, and introduced himself, "Hi, I'm Roger."
I shook his hand, "Hello, I'm Mavra."
The doors decided to open just then, and gushing out, came the students. We started to push our way in, which I saw what passed for normal. Roger followed right in behind me. Even though I had to duck (again) to get in, there is an advantage to being larger than normal.
Roger and I developed a friendship during the next months. It was nice to finally to meet someone who saw me for me, not what I was. To me, he was a nice guy. I've seen so little niceness lately. I think he felt the same way, for he wasn't just short, (I couldn't tell at first) he was a midget. I rather liked the irony, even if it was silly.
I started to walk outside to get to different classes, for the ceiling were always to low. The stairs often left my ankles scraped and sore after slipping innumerable times on them. I tried taking the elevators, but they were always filled. I tried to be nice about it at first, but then forced my way into the elevators, making 'beep-beep-beep' sounds as I backed in. At least some people were nice about it and got off after I explained my situation to them.
Some people were not nice.
It happened while Roger and I were walking along outside, when some jock-types started making whinnies and other horse sounds. I won't go into what was said, but it was most crass. We just kept walking, ignoring them, when they came up and blocked our path. We tried to go around them, but they surrounded us, making more horse-calls.
"Roger," I warned him, "I think you had better go."
"No, Mavra, I won't leave you now."
"Please go, I'll be ok." Memories started to flood back, "I've been here before. Go, Roger."
"Yeah, dumpy," One of the clods barked, "Get lost and leave the nag to us."
Roger reluctantly left, looking back as he trotted away.
"I don't want to hurt anybody." I said, "Please leave me alone."
"You're going to hurt us, horse-lady?" Mr. Clod said.
I looked around, where were my Janes & Joes?!
"Nobody's here, just you and us, nag."
True enough, on this drizzly day, everybody else was inside.
"My uncle lost his job 'cause of you." Clod added, "He ended up being fired from his government job. Now he just drinks."
"Who are you talking about? I've never seen you before!"
"Clarence Hooks, nag."
"Listen, sir," I told him, "Agent Hooks kidnapped me, tortured me. . ."
"You're not even human, nag!" Clod interrupted, and started it all by throwing the first punch.
My eyes must've started looking wild, for they suddenly all jumped me. NO! Not again! I started to claw them off of me, when I heard voices of authority yelling, and the voice of Roger. Thank God! It was campus security. They came and took the offenders away. I had to go and fill out a report. But at least I didn't see them again.
It was soon after this altercation when I got sick. The stress just got to me. I was able to finish the quarter, but I ended up taking winter quarter off.
It was just as well, I got jury duty! After sitting in the jury room for my entire time (nobody wanted me on their jury, go figure?), I was able to take up classes again in the spring.
After the second attack, and consequential illness, I decided to take up Karate and weight lifting. I wasn't the only lady there, suprisingly, both classes had about an even distribution of the genders, but weights had a bit more ladies. Karate didn't turn out do be quite as useful as I had hoped; the only good things were the punching. So I ended up trying Akido, which worked better for me. As for the weight lifting, hah! I bet many a male, testosterone-filled ego was popped in my class! I would imagine it being slightly disheartening to have your huge mound of iron lifted off of your chest by some female!
As a centaur, there were some classes that piqued my interest:
Archery: What could I say? After getting used to the bow for the first couple of weeks, I got to be rather good at it. Started 'Robin Hooding' all of my arrows. I only had one left of my original six, not to mention shafting the replacements I got. Funny thing is, the last day, I totally stank.
Biology: Hehehe! The fiend in me resisted classification. Mammal? Yes. Equine? Partially. Primate? Partially. Hehehe! In the lab, I did discover that the 'human' element in my blood was type AB positive. Rare. I like that.
Dance: Sure, anything that might make me more light on my hooves. After the trials, the teacher screamed at me to get out. Funny, I thought my hooves gave the wooden floor more character.
Greek Mythology: For some reason, I never was able to take the class. I was even given 'the Bible as Literature' as a second choice. Dropped it.
Science Fiction: What can I say? Asimov's one of my role models! Needless to say, there were a lot of Anthony and Chalker references, especially with my name.
For several quarters, things were uneventful, I decided on a degree of physics, and worked towards it. I also wanted to help things out on campus, so I volunteered for the night escort, where women are accompanied to their cars by others, male or female. They were ecstatic to have me on their patrol. I even stopped a purse snatcher during this. He was surprised. Unfortunately, the purse strap got broken.
I also started volunteering up at OMSI (Oregon Museum of Science and Industry), since I couldn't stand volunteering across the way, at the Zoo. Things went along smoothly for a few years, for a change. Started to work at PSU's audio-visual department, as a student technician.
I have to admit, that was one of the best jobs I've had so far. Sure, I was a bit of a shock at first, but people just got used to me, and I earned their respect as a *worker*. I fixed oh so many overheads, ran cable for the Oregon State Higher-Mucky-Mucks meetings, and just did things. And it helped me in other ways. It kept me out of sight and out of trouble, for a while I wasn't accosted further like before, there were still name-calling incidences.
The park block preachers thought I was an abomination. 'The day is coming of the talking animals!' and such. At least I was well-known enough and liked enough by then to be defended by friends against religious harassment.
But all good things must come to an end, for after a rowdy ceremony, I graduated, with a degree in physics, and a GPA of 2.78. eh. Oh well, so what.