by Eric Smith
She looked at Sarika, who stared at her, aghast.
“I’m just saying,” Leila said, shrugging. “New school for the summer, new me. Who would know?”
“You would know,” Sarika said, sternly. “You would. That is not why I dramatically slapped a mirror inside of your locker. You were supposed to look at it and be all, ‘Wow, I’m hella beautiful the way I am. Fuck those girls.’ And then walk away with me to some kind of bad-ass friendship soundtrack.”
“Come on, I’m just—”
“Friendship. Soundtrack,” Sarika said, stressing each word. “Never change. What did we learn from Rappaccini’s Daughter in English last year?” Sarika grinned, and Leila scowled. She knew she hated that story.
“Oh no,” Leila said, crossing her arms and closing her locker. “No, no. Not that short story. Every single foster parent and well-meaning teacher ever has tried to shove that fable down my throat, I won’t hear it from you.”
“I’m just saying, if we got anything from that story, it’s that if you put makeup on over your skin, you’ll die.”
“That . . . that is not what that story is about,” Leila said, smiling.
“Come on,” Sarika said, offering up an arm. Leila looped her arm through. “Come walk me to the firing squad, and then let’s go check out this environmental activism club thing, and see if that delicious boy is here today.”
_____
Luckily, Sarika's meeting with Dr. Rich only lasted a few minutes, and she got off with a warning. Room 407 was located on the clear opposite side of Belmont, in the upper corner of the school on the top floor, next to a number of classrooms that looked as though they were set up for labs. Leila guessed the various chemistry, physics, and biology courses were secluded in this section of the school in the event anyone blew something up—or a high school teacher decided to start making drugs to save his sick family.
Leila eyed all the bulletin boards that lined the rather quiet hallway around the science classrooms, tacked up with fliers for the Environmental Activism club, notes about field trips, a bicycle for sale, and details regarding September classes. Botany, astronomy, lots of classes that she’d totally take that ended in “y,” if this was the school she was actually attending instead of Central across town.
Sarika opened the door to the classroom first, and Leila followed.
Instead of conventional desks, the room was full of large laboratory tables, with pipes and valves on the surface for Bunsen burners and experiments. A handful of students already sat at a few of the tables, and they all turned to look at Sarika and Leila as they walked in. Leila offered up an awkward wave and looked at Sarika, who rolled her eyes as they made their way to a free table and two empty lab stools.
Leila scooted the stool up against the table and resisted the urge to squirm about. The wooden stools weren’t exactly comfortable. She leaned on the table, the black surface cold and comforting against her bare arms, and felt some odd scratches and scuffs against her skin. She looked down at the slab.
An array of names and dates were etched into the table, some with elegant care and precision, others carelessly scrawled.
A.K. ’s S.R. 4 EVR: Class of 2001
DOWN WITH SCIENCE
Mr. Chet is a total babe, 10/10, would ba—
The door to the classroom swung open while Leila traced the etched carvings, and in walked Shawn, the “delicious” boy from the café. He had a beat-up backpack slung carelessly over his shoulder, beige and worn, like something from an army surplus store. His chestnut hair hung over his face as he sauntered in. He tossed his backpack on the teacher’s desk in the front of the classroom and sat down on it. He looked up and ran his hand through his hair, pulling it away from his face, and smiled at everyone in the room. His teeth were a shocking white, and he had a single dimple like a crater on the left side of his face.
He looked right at Leila, and she felt herself blush just as an elbow nudged her in the side. She turned and glared at Sarika, who in turn stared at her with wide eyes and an open mouth.
“Welcome everyone, I’m Shawn Kennedy. Welcome to the first meeting of the Belmont Environmental Activism Club, or B.E.A.C., as we generally call it. Like a bird’s beak, but with a C.” He looked back at Leila again, smiling, and Leila felt the warmth returning to her cheeks.
“I see a couple of new faces in the room,” Shawn continued, “as well as a bunch of returning ones, which is good to see. You should know that even after the enrichment is over, no matter what school you’re at, you are welcome to attend our meetings and events. We’ve got a lot of work to do this year and need all the help we can get, from changes being made in Fairmount Park to protests along the Schuylkill River regarding some of these outrageous new fishing laws.”
“Yeah!” a girl with bright-red hair shouted from up in the front the room, slamming her fist down against her desk.
“Down with those corporate scumbags and their machine!” snapped someone just one row ahead of Leila and Sarika. He turned and nodded to someone else sitting in the classroom, his long hair dancing about on his head.
Mixed in with the cheers and shouts were a couple of halfhearted grumbles muttered around the lab, some of the students staring down at their hands or awkwardly at one another.
“Hey losers!” a familiar voice piped up. Leila looked towards the door to spot Jessica and Gwen standing in the door frame. Jessica had her arms crossed and a smirk on her face; Gwen lingered behind, her eyes darting around uncomfortably.
Sarika moved to get up off of her stool, and Leila held a hand out to grab her shoulder. She shook her head. She seriously didn’t need to get in any more trouble today, and the last thing Leila wanted to do was keep drawing attention to herself.
“Corporate scumbags? Really? The developers working in Fairmount Park? And what’s the big deal? It’s just a few fish in the river. If people want to eat all that mercury, let them. The people working on this stuff can’t be all bad,” Jessica continued as she walked in. Gwen trailed hesitantly behind her. “You should know more than anyone.”
Shawn sighed and nodded at the rest of the club.
“For those of you who are new, this is Jessica and Gwen. Jessica’s father is also, well, something of an activist, I suppose.”
“You suppose?” Jessica scoffed. “Please. Who do you think helps fund you and your father’s precious vacations?”
“They aren’t vacations, we’re raising awareness for—”
“Right, while enjoying the scenic oceans and warm waters, while—”
“Your dad only does it for the tax write off, Jessica,” Shawn suddenly snapped, his demeanor gone sour, the playful expression on his face vanished. “He doesn’t give a damn. You know that, I know that, and furthermore—”
“Does he know you know that?” Jessica asked.
Shawn stared at her.
“Does he, does my dad, know that your father thinks he does this for the tax benefits?” Jessica continued, taking a step.
“Jessica, I don’t speak for my—”
“Whatever,” Jessica snapped. She turned and looked around the room, her eyes settling on Leila and Sarika. She glowered and waved her hand around dismissively before turning to Gwen. “Let’s grab a seat.”
“What?” Sarika said, deadpan. Leila nudged her.
“Jessica, can we not do this?” Shawn said. “I mean, really, you don’t want to be here.”
“Maybe I do,” Jessica said, walking towards the group. She grabbed one of the tall stools. “Come on. I know you want me. Here, that is.”
She grinned, and Leila felt a rush of jealousy course through her. Clearly the two of them had some history.
“You should leave,” Shawn said, turning away to look back at the group. “I mean, I can’t stop you from joining B.E.A.C., but this isn’t what you want. And I’m certainly not what you want.
You made that pretty damn clear.”
An awkward quiet fell over the room. Sarika nudged Leila.
“Daaaaaamn,” Sarika mouthed silently.
Jessica stood up quickly and glared at Shawn, who continued to look away.
She kicked her stool over, causing everyone in the room to jump.
“Fuck you. Fuck you and your dad’s bullshit causes.” She looked over at Sarika and Leila, her eyes narrowing. “The hell you looking at, huh? All of you? Fuck this. I’m going to go throw aluminum cans out of my SUV into a pond full of manatees, you tree-hugging freaks. Let’s go, Gwen.”
Jessica bolted out of the room, knocking over a few more stools as she left. Gwen hurried behind her and awkwardly tried to pick up a few of the seats.
“Gwen!” Jessica snapped, peeking back into the room. “Leave them!” Gwen looked over at Jessica and then back at the classroom, her eyes flashing what looked like a silent apology.
Shawn buried his head in his hands and breathed in deep, and looked up back at everyone, his mouth a narrow line. He cleared his throat.
“So . . . me and Jessica broke up,” he said, his mouth curving up in a half smile. A couple of chuckles broke out around the room as he stood back up, shrugging. “Look, I, um, I know her dad sometimes helped out with some of our trips and what-not through the school year, but nothing is going to change. I’ve still got some fun things planned this year.”
Shawn’s voice faded as he went on about the club, and Leila stared ahead, feeling a bit disappointed. What kind of guy was he if he dated a girl like that? Too bad.
Shawn walked towards the back of the classroom, closed the door tightly, and then strolled back over, shrugging.
“So, unfortunately, this will sadly be my last year at the helm, and I hope one of you will take the green throne after I move on and graduate.” He hung his head down, shaking it solemnly. Leila glanced over at Sarika, who exchanged looks with her.
Green throne? Was he for real?
“Boo!” shouted a few of the students sitting closer to the front of the room. Shawn smiled and waved them off.
“There will be time for mourning later,” he exclaimed, looking back up. He held his hands in the air, as though to calm the masses before him, even though there were only a dozen or so people in the class. Then he sat back down and rubbed his hands together. “The drama is over, and today, we get to know the new recruits. The acorns, if you will.”
“Hah! I won’t,” Sarika said with a smirk.
Leila laughed and nudged her, and the rest of the students who had assembled turned and looked at them with a mixture of bemused expressions and utter horror.
“What?” Sarika snapped at one of the students glaring at her. The student turned away quickly, looking back at Shawn. “I’m not a boring average nut from off a tree. Neither of us are. Me and this girl are more like hazelnuts, thank you.”
“Well then, I suppose we can start with the two of you,” Shawn said, hopping back off his desk and standing in front of the class. He extended a hand. “Or, how about I start and break the ice. Me, I’m Shawn Kennedy, president and founder of the B.E.A.C. here at Belmont High School.” He started to pace in the front of the room, hands behind his back. “In addition to all that, I’m captain of our lacrosse team, and vice president of the student government.”
He walked back over to the desk and sat back on it.
“That about sums me up, I suppose. Anyone care to go first?” He looked around the room. No hands raised.
“Sure, why not,” Sarika chimed in, standing up. She gave a little wave to everyone in the room and then sat on the edge of the lab table, crossing her legs and leaning back on the black surface. “So I’m Sarika Krishna. Not super into the environment, but I am really into coffee—”
“Ah, the plague that hurts the planet.” Shawn interrupted, a disapproving look on his face.
“Excuse me?” Sarika asked, hopping off the desk.
“Just saying, those coffee farms decimate the planet.” He shrugged and smiled at her. “And those instant coffee pods people love using these days, so much waste, so much—”
“Whatever,” she snipped. “I’m into coffee; specifically, if you’d had let me finish before 'actually-ing' me, the sustainable kind. Coffee that comes from small communities, harvested from individual farms, roasted locally and sourced with minimum damage to the land. So sure, I guess I’m into preserving the environment, but I’m a little more interested in how saving land helps save and preserve ways of life.”
“Ah,” Shawn said, looking down at his hands. “Well, that is interesting. I’m sorry.”
“Accepted,” Sarika said curtly.
“Geez, Sarika,” Leila muttered.
“Hey, no one gets to “well actually” me and get away with it,” she said, crossing her arms and looking back up at Shawn. “So yes. I’m here for that. There’s an excellent coffee community in Philadelphia, and I’d love to learn more about preservation and environmental science, and how that can help me be a bigger part of it. And, of course, I’m here for this one.” She nodded at Leila and grinned.
“Damn it, girl,” Leila groaned, burying her head in her hands.
“Ah, yes,” Shawn said, and Leila could hear him grinning. “I believe you’re up, and that we’ve met before, no?”
“Yes,” Leila said into her hands, wanting the earth to open up and swallow her.
“Well?” Shawn asked. Leila looked up, and there he was, at his desk, his hand out, welcoming. He was smiling that lopsided smile, and she forced herself not to sigh.
“Hey all,” Leila said, sitting up. She waved to the faces that had turned to look at her. “So yeah, hi. I’m Leila, with an I and not a Y. Um.”
She looked around at all the eyes staring at her, and felt that warmth returning to her chest, bubbling up. The pressure and the anxiety that brewed in her when around too many people she didn’t know. She could feel her heart speeding up, her breathing quickening.
Leila glanced at the door leading out of the science lab, and moved to walk away from the desk. Sarika grabbed her arm.
“Hey, come on now,” Sarika said, her voice soft.
“I just don’t think I can do,” Leila looked up at the class, their eyes all on her, as she whispered to Sarika, “all this, you know?” Shawn stared at her, his eyes soft without any trace of judgement, none of that awkward pity or concern. His eyes sparkled. It calmed her down in an odd way, and she took a deep breath.
“Come on,” Sarika repeated. “It’s just like, you know.”
Leila looked down at Sarika, who nodded her head.
“It’s like group.” Sarika muttered.
Ah.
She did know.
The long talk sessions at Adam’s Café, foster kids and recent adoptees, bonding together, talking long and hard into the evening. Parents that walked away, foster families that didn’t work out. Stories of estranged siblings and runaway friends were frequent and heartbreaking, but the words poured out as long as there were people around to listen.
“Sorry, I, um, I don’t speak in front of people all that often,” she said, laughing awkwardly. She took a deep breath, and felt Sarika squeeze her hand. “I just, you know, care a lot about what happens to our world. When you spend most of your life moving here and there, with new families and new schools, you learn to find something to stay connected with that’s a constant.”
She blinked away tears that threatened to show themselves and cleared her throat, the mixture of digging up a personal story hitting hard with the anxiety of being around so many new people.
“You can do it,” Sarika whispered.
“Anyhow, that constant for me is, well, all of that.” She nodded at the windows in the back of the lab, which overlooked a patch of trees in a park near the school. “The trees, the outdoors. The world under my feet
. Things that are solid and hard to move, difficult to change. And the things that want to change them, change them in a negative way? Well, I’d like to be there to stop it. To preserve something.”
She looked up at Shawn and saw his gaze full of something a little deeper. Admiration, maybe? She felt a gentle touch on her forearm, and saw Sarika still holding her, smiling softly. She nodded at her friend and looked back the room.
“So yeah, that’s why I’m here. I um, saved a willow tree recently.” She shrugged. “Sometimes you have to start small. Although, it didn’t feel small for me. I loved that tree.”
“Thank you for sharing,” Shawn said, his tone gentle and soft.
“Man, I’m just here so I have something that looks good on my college application,” muttered one of the students up front. Leila let out a laugh, and the redhead in front of the room threw a pen at the kid, the plastic clattering across the science lab’s hard floor.
“Thank you, Mikey,” Shawn said, shaking his head and smiling. “Let’s continue around the room.”
Shawn made his way around the room, pointing at this student and that, each with their own story of why they cared about the planet and what they were doing here. Leila listened, occasionally interrupted by a playful nudge or snarky comment from Sarika, but mostly, she watched. She stared.
At Shawn, and how he kept talking to everyone else but never seemed to take his eyes off her.
THREAD: Alternatives to the Raptor Trust in Fairmount
SUBFORUM: PHILADELPHIA-CENTRIC
Alternatives to the Raptor Trust in Fairmount
Posted by Toothless
AUGUST 14th, 2017 | 7:02PM
Hey all, odd question. I’ve come across this wounded bird that I’d like to help out, but the Raptor Trust in Fairmount is shutting down, as I’m sure many of you have heard. Does anyone know any solid alternatives, particularly places that won’t euthanize an animal that can’t be recuperated?
RE: Alternatives to the Raptor Trust in Fairmount
Posted by Jill the Birder
AUGUST 14th, 2017 | 7:09PM
You could try the Roxborough Animal Habilitation Center. Depends on the bird, I think, but I know they take just about everything. I saw a turkey vulture there once that would never be able to fly. Just lives there. Seems happy. As does the peacock who chased my car.