As soon as her last final was over, Mairin went to register and pay for the bar review course so that she could pick up her bar notes. The blue vinyl-bound notebook was huge. This is all I need to know, she mused, just this formidable mass of material. The huge notebook was all in outline form, and most students made outlines of the outlines.

She began working on her outlines right away. The hours that she would normally have been in class, she used for studying. She usually stayed downtown after work; there was always someone working late at Hadleigh. She would run out for a sandwich, then come back, sit at her desk and study.

The study group activated itself and formed a schedule. They met Tuesday and Thursday evenings to review the review. There was very little discussion of personal things, though everyone was sorely tempted. They worked on questions from old exams and questions from commercial sources. In their wisdom, the bar examiners had decided that one of the three days would be given over to multiple choice questions--the infamous Multi-State.

"Brought to you by those wonderful folks in Princeton, New Jersey," said Mariann, "who screwed up your previous academic life and now have a chance to ruin your work life."

"It really is awful," said Karen. "Law just does not lend itself to the multiple choice format. If it did, judges wouldn’t have to write opinions. They could just check boxes."

Mairin agreed heartily. She found that the multi-state was the hardest for her. She kept seeing ambiguities in the choices so that it wasn’t clear what choice (c) or choice (e) really meant. "The idea is great," she sighed.

"What idea?" asked Laurie.

"The idea that we’re moving toward a national bar admission program. That ultimately we’ll be admitted to more than just one bar per test. That’s the whole idea of the standardization of the multi-state, which is now one-third of our bar exam."

"Sure" said Karen. "And how many states have changed their requirements? We have to take this piece of garbage for no good purpose. No other state will admit us."

"I like the multiple choice better than writing," said Laurie. "I hate to write, and we have to write essays for two whole days."

"Come on, guys," said Mariann, "Let’s get cracking."

When the review course was over, there was one empty week before the exam itself, which was on the last Wednesday, Thursday and Friday of July. During that week studying was almost impossible. The group tried, but the tension was so great that for its sheer relief, the focus became personal things.

"If we don’t know it by now, one week isn’t going to do it," Karen said.

They all agreed. However, on her own, each kept studying. Each was weak in something. For Mairin it was tax, and there were to be two tax essay questions. She used the old index cards to make flash cards of concepts such as short and long term capital gains.

And then it was time to go. The bar exam was given in the state capitol. Laurie had a station wagon, and all of the group would ride down together. Karen and Mairin would share a room. That morning Mairin stood surveying her room. All of the scraps of paper, extra cards, texts, hornbooks, outlines, etc. had been tidied up. She was taking only her big, blue notebook and one set of index cards. I'll never know more law than I know this morning, she thought, adding, though I still don’t know what law is.

They started the drive at ten Tuesday morning and reached the capitol in midafternoon. The hotel was jammed with bar candidates. "I hope it’s not going to be too noisy," worried Mariann.

As soon as they checked in, they took a walk to the armory where the exam would be given. It was huge. There would be about one thousand candidates. It was well-known that there was no air-conditioning. "God it’s hot," Karen groaned.

"This whole thing is so damned ridiculous," said Mairin in a hostile tone.

Everybody looked at her. Of them all, Mairin had appeared the most calm. She’d been the soother of nervous tempers, something they had absentmindedly attributed to her being a social worker.

"This is such an ordeal," she said. "I don’t appreciate being put through this. Just like I didn’t appreciate first-year classroom hassles. I ask myself, ‘Is this really necessary?’"

"And you answer 'No.'" said Karen. "Me too."

By the time they returned to their rooms, Laurie and Mariann ware ready for an early supper. Karen and Mairin said they’d go later. They managed to study for an entire hour before they fled to the dining room. They dragged out supper as long as they could. "Well," said Karen, "I’m going to go over my notes one last time."

"Not I," said Mairin. "I am so sick of those notes that I will never look at them again. I’m going to a movie."

The movie did help to keep Mairin from worrying about the test. She returned to the room to find Karen still studying.

"I do not know how you do it," said Mairin. "I have an absolute limit to how long I can sit still before the stuff drives me crazy. But you’ve always managed to stick with it."

"Yeah, I guess," said Karen, seemingly absorbed.

"Well, I’m going to bed," said Mairin. "See you in the morning."
 
 
 
 

Mairin awakened long before morning. At three a.m. precisely.

Oh hell, she thought. She felt absolutely wide awake. I’ll try out my reasoning, .she said to herself. I have ten Valium in my purse that I copped from a friend. It’s before four. I’ve learned that if I take a Valium after four, I’m groggy when it’s time to get up. Yet, will I still be a little groggy anyway? I do not want to take this test like a zombie. She turned this problem over in her mind. She got up, found her purse, and took a Valium. One hour later she was still awake. Fuck it, she thought, I should have taken two. I’ll have to tough it out. No more now.

Somewhere along the way to morning, Mairin got a half-hour of sleep or so. By seven thirty she could stay in bed no longer. Karen was awake too. The test started at nine. Nine to noon. One-thirty to four-thirty. They got up, dressed, ate breakfast, picked up Laurie and Mariann and headed for the armory.

"Well, here it is," said Mariann. "The Big Test. This is what we went to school four years for."

"Hush up," said Laurie.

They walked the rest of the way in silence. They waited in silence for the doors to open. Plenty of people were there at 8:45 when they arrived. They’d each been assigned an exam number to record on the exam and to use as a seating assignment.

The doors opened and they marched in grimly. Mairin found her place. The hall was jammed with medium-sized rectangular tables. Two people shared each table, one on each side, at opposite corners. Mairin smiled at the fellow sitting across from her but did not speak. Speaking was prohibited by the bar examiners.

Those august personages were present this first morning. They were introduced. Each had contributed a question or more in his specialty. There were no hers. Another diabolical turn was that the questions bore no headings announcing topics. In law school you knew that if you were taking a torts exam, there would be no contracts questions. But, as the profs were wont to say, your clients won’t come in announcing that they have a con law problem or an agency problem. And so, the bar questions were merely an introduction to the world of office practice.

Word was given to begin. Two questions had been handed out to occupy the first hour. Then two more. Then two more. Booklets rustled, sighs came. They began. Got it, thought Mairin. She wrote. She turned in. She wrote. With each word off the pen her tension was reduced. By noon she felt okay. The group gathered for lunch. Mairin was starved; Laurie couldn’t eat.

"I couldn’t even eat soup," she said. She watched while the others went through hamburgers, french fries, etc.

The afternoon was a repeat performance. They met outside singing.

"I propose a dinner," said Mairin. "If any one of you clowns wants to study, fine, do it after dinner, but we eat in style."

"Fine," they chorused. They took showers, cleaned up, and met at the fanciest restaurant in their huge hotel complex. They shared a fantastic meal, complete with a bottle of wine.

"Split four ways no one will get high," said Karen, who had insisted on the wine.

Mariann had a story of a third-timer taking the bar. This was it for her, if she failed to pass this third time, she could not take it a fourth. Her father had come down with her. Each day while she suffered, he checked out restaurants. Then he took her out each night. She passed. "What better precedent?" asked Mariann.

So they repeated the procedure the next evening. They griped mightily about the multi-state. "I didn't even finish," lamented Laurie.

"I hope you marked the boxes the way we learned at the review," said Mairin.

"I didn’t have time. I wasn’t watching the time. Then it was called."

That was another rule. If you were caught flicking a pen after time was called, you were out. Sentences stopped in the middle. Nobody would risk having to retake the bar because of a moving pen.

Mairin had hated every minute of the multi-state. They plotted their strategy for the morrow. They wouldn’t dine in the capitol. They’d run back to their rooms, pack their suitcases and be gone. They’d stop someplace on the way home to eat. They just wanted to leave the scene of their torture as fast as they could.

And they did. They ran back to the hotel, skipping. "I haven’t skipped since the third grade," Karen said.

They loaded the car and took off. They stopped about halfway and ate. They had a great time, eclipsed only by the postmortem that they couldn’t seem to avoid. It turned out that Laurie had answered a criminal law question as though the acts had been civil wrongs. She plummeted into despair, but they revived her spirits by telling her that only the penalties would change. "What are torts but acts the prosecutor doesn’t handle?" asked Karen. "If it’s breaking and entering, it’s criminal; if it’s trespass, it’s civil."

"Sure," said Mairin and Mariann. Laurie looked relieved. Damn, thought Mairin, who knows? We all could die on this. The sheer elation left by the removal of tension carried her, however. They had a great time driving back.
 
 

"I think I made it," said Mairin, "but of course I’ll have to wait until November to find out." November was the month that results traditionally came out. "At least I can relax until then."