The Sun Seekers

by Emery C. Walters

  Mr. Jay said, “It’s on the news and your parents have been notified, so if they have electricity, emergency radio or phone signals, they’ll know to not worry about you.”

  “My dad’s out of town, so I’m good; no wait, I promised, oh shit.” That was Danny, worrying about Bernie and Rodger. He turned to Whit, asking, “How can I draw happy when I’m so worried?”

  Whit reached under the table, knowing there was no stopping Dusty ever again. He gave Danny a reason to be happy.

  “Ooh!” Danny smiled, “You’re terrible. I love that in a person.” Together they got up to get paper and paint. Danny walked funny. Whit was giggling.

  Back at their table, Whit drew the kids in the tutoring room, focusing on the two laughing girls who had teased her, and the boy who didn’t like to be touched, and she drew Mr. Grogan’s son sitting on the boy’s lap, sucking his thumb. Then, as overkill, she drew candy and balloons and rainbows and flying kittens with capes on. “I hope they’re not scared,” she muttered to herself.

  Danny, hearing her, just realized how much he had fallen in love with this crazy girl/boy. He started to draw, not even knowing what was going to come out of his fingertips. After a while he saw it looked like a polar bear, so he put it in a hot tub on someone’s back porch, with a cat looking out the window hissing. He put a Christmas tree inside next to the cat, and next to that, just peeping out from behind the drapes, he drew a shiny new bicycle, just like the one Mr. Grogan’s boy had been riding. He didn’t know if the picture was happy or not, so he gave the bear a bottle of Coke, and then added a big bottle of Captain Morgan rum on the ledge. He titled it Hope, because, as he told Mr. Jay later, the bear was hoping for a bottle opener. Or a large salmon, either one. Mr. Jay said, “See? You never know when there’s going to be a party.”

  “Or at least, a replacement bike,” Whit put in.

  “Oh, Mr. Jay, I know this should be done by the glee club but Ms. Hacker only does the usual stuff. Can we do a call and response thing? I bet we could write one ourselves! Maybe print out some response forms to hand out? It could be fun. Like a rap song about the pictures! You could hold each one up and…”

  Oh dear, thought Mr. Jay, what Hell hath I wrought now? He wished he were home with his partner, and maybe that bottle of rum, or at least, a good white wine.

  * * * *

  As time passed and the snow increased, it got darker, and they packed up their things and started down the hall to the auditorium. They gathered up their coats to use as blankets as they passed their lockers. Dark or not, most of the kids broke off to use the restrooms on the way. The halls rang with laughter and thumps as people walked into doors and walls. Even though several teachers had flashlights and glow sticks, all the kids were more interested in the shadows, and the novelty of being in the halls like a pack of wild animals, at night. Free of parents, and not paying much attention to the idea the teachers had of walking single file, and going directly to the auditorium.

  In fact, Danny and Whit weren’t the only two who veered off the main trail, hurrying around corners and into darkened stairwells. In fact, if Wesley hadn’t seen them enter the janitor’s closet, they would have probably spent the entire night in it, because as they pulled it shut behind them, it locked, and there was no key on the inside. Not that they noticed.

  Wesley stood outside the door, giggling to himself softly. He could hear muffled noises from the other side of the door, more giggling, a few words and an occasional thump. He gave them five minutes, then he rapped on the door and turned the knob, opening the door about two inches. He laughed at the sight of them entwined in each other’s arms with a push-broom and a mop making it a foursome. He said, “The knees-up would be a damp squib without you two wankers cocking it up. Mr. Jay will give you a bollocking you won’t soon forget. It’s right dodgy anyhow, Danny, you in there with a bird, when I know you’re just as big a poofter as I am. If you’re on the pull, mate, here I am, ta! And I won’t get up the duff like that bird in there. So quit the slap and tickle, down with the stonker, get your hands off the strawberry creams and let’s go before I change my mind and leave you locked in there. Bloody skives, both of youse.”

  Other than the fact that he was laughing, neither Danny nor Whit caught more than a hint of what Wesley was trying to convey. Danny whispered, “Is he speaking English?”

  Shortly after leaving the closet, the two were continuing down the hall toward the auditorium just as if they were perfect little angels. Violence was the farthest thing from their minds. They could hear running behind them and were soon surrounded by a mob of boys, one of them being Beau.

  Beau smacked Whit on the rear end and Danny on the head. “Us guys are going to the gym to blast a couple of joints. You sissies wouldn’t know anything about that. But you, Twitley of the nice big boobs, you should come with us and crack some wind, yo.” The other boys, horsing around, all hooted and cheered. One tried to grab her arm, but Beau got it first, tugging at her as she shied back.

  “Come on Tittley,” Beau laughed. “I can show you a few things that this sissy-boy here wouldn’t know how to do.”

  Whit yelled, both angry and scared, “Let go of me!”

  Danny stepped up, trying to pry Beau’s arm loose. “Let her go, Beau-Tox, or I’ll…”

  “You’ll what?” Beau asked, stepping toward Danny but still holding onto Whit’s arm as she struggled. Inside her head, she envisioned dear old Dusty hiding somewhere—talk about a big sissy! She was suddenly furious with herself, as well as the situation.

  Everything was suddenly very still. Nobody was moving, and their shadows held perfectly still, blending into the darkness of the walls. Beau asked, “What did you call me? Hey, you’re the jerk that shoved that kids’ bike in front of me, aren’t you? It’s all your fault I got in trouble. I’m gonna…”

  But Danny saw Beau’s arm coming. He ducked, struck exactly like Bernie had taught him, and connected. He didn’t need to roll out of the way, but he’d already used that earlier, hadn’t he? He didn’t even feel like he was going to die for having hit the bully; he felt strong and untouchable. Whit was now clinging to his arm, and Beau’s friends were all backing off, as they all watched Beau crumple to a semi-visible bulk on the floor, holding his face and starting to cry.

  One of Beau’s friends swore, two of them laughed, and then they all ran off toward the gym. Danny and Whit heard the big gymnasium doors open and slam shut behind them.

  Like a movie, Danny turned and took Whit in his arms. His heart was pounding and he was beginning to feel faint. Part of him, only part, hoped he hadn’t killed Beau. He kissed Whit soundly, and she kissed him back. They only stopped because of the cheering and the applause that began to surround them. Then they all turned and continued on down the hall to the auditorium, like innocent little sheep to the barn. Many of the sheep were saying things like, pow! Right in the kisser! And, good one! And, what a cry baby. He’s not so high and mighty now.

  Danny knew he’d have to tell someone what he had done, but decided it could wait until they got where they were going. He decided they would, now, go straight there.

  However, just before they reached the door to the auditorium, they heard a creaking noise. They heard what sounded like a freight train coming, twisting through the building, reaching a crescendo. The lights, hanging down from the ceiling in this, the older part of the building, started to sway. Everyone froze where they were, until a teacher ran up shouting, “Down! Down, get over by the wall! Cover your heads!”

  Overhead, high above, the hanging lights on their long chains swayed and swung. They too made noise as if they were shouting in fear of falling. None of them, however, did.

  The kids ran in all directions; it was chaos. Nothing fell on them, luckily, but with a huge noise the building shook and the gym doors burst off their hinges and flew across the hall, followed by clouds of dust and snow and pieces of ceiling tile, wood and metal. The rank, skunky smell of marijuana blew in with it. If they
’d been standing back there they’d have been sliced to ribbons.

  “The gym’s collapsed!” someone shouted. Danny was holding Whit, covering her with his own body. “Luckily nobody’s in there!” someone else said.

  Danny and Whit looked at each other. Just then Beau came stumbling along the hallway, stepping carefully over the mess in the hall by the gym entrance. He walked straight up to Danny, touched his arm and said, “You—I—my friends. I would have been in there…” and he started to cry, sobbing big ugly gasps, pointing back toward the gym with a shaking hand while his nose dripped blood down his face.

  The doorway remained empty, with only dust and snow blowing in on the howling wind.

  * * * *

  Despite the storm, two fire trucks made it to the school, and while all the students and most of the teachers waited in the auditorium, rescuers tried to search for survivors in the piles of metal, concrete, wiring, howling winds, and blinding snow. Whit and Danny had Beau sitting between them, all hatred and fighting forgotten, and they just talked about childhood, and what Beau’s friends had been like, what they had gotten for Christmas or on other various holidays, things like that. After a while Jacob and Larissa came over and sat talking with them in the near darkness. Eventually some teacher began to bring in candles and flashlights to augment the dim light that the generator was providing, along with a degree of warmth. There was not enough of either to be totally comfortable, but enough to survive. Ms. Wickers started scrounging for food, anything the kids had that could be shared, things she found in the teachers’ lounge, things she had liberated from the soda and candy machines in the lobby, and whatever could be eaten unheated from the cafeteria. Coach Dub called for any Boy Scouts or people who camped to help him figure out ways to cook some of the food without setting fire to anything or creating smoke and carbon monoxide. As Ms. Dub shouted out questions and comments, many kids rallied to see what she was doing, and stayed to help her, trying not to get yelled at, but when they did, taking it with a grain of salt. Ms. Wickers was very upset, it was noticeable, and they admired her for doing this for them anyhow.

  Beau would not tell anyone how he had gotten his black eye and the swelling lump over his eyebrow. Danny sort of wished he would. “You can’t let anyone know,” Beau whispered to Danny, although both knew perfectly well that many kids had seen it. “I’d never live it down. All my friends would kill me if they knew a fag beat me up.”

  “You don’t have any friends,” Dusty via Whitney pointed out meanly. Danny put his hand on her arm. They all knew all his friends had seen what had happened, and that it wasn’t likely any of them would be around to talk about it.

  “I’m sorry,” Whitney lied. Well, the part of her that was Whitney was sorry, and sorry he’d lost all his friends, but the part of her that was the burgeoning male-she-should-be, Dusty, was not sorry in the least. It was hard to subdue that part of her when she wanted to free him, to be him, at all costs. She wasn’t even really sure she liked him, though when he was present, all she could feel was a wholeness, a wholeness that was full of joy.

  A few minutes later the auditorium door opened and some firemen and the principal walked in. “Ahem!” shouted the principal. “May I have your attention.”

  Ms. Wickers let out a bellow. “Incoming! Heads up! And not up your asses!” Just like the drill sergeant she had once been.

  Mouths gaped and heads turned. One of the firemen called out, “We haven’t been able to find anyone yet. Someone told us there were six boys in there? I’d like to talk to him again and confirm their names.”

  Most of the kids just turned away, not knowing yet of the possible, well, probable, tragedy that had just struck, or not wanting to know. Most of the adults felt it better not to let them know right then either, and the others remained quiet. Let them enjoy their enforced overnight if they could. Time enough for sadness later, when everything that could be, was back to normal.

  Danny squeezed Beau’s arm. “Do you want me to go with you?” and when Beau nodded, they both stood up and made their way back up the aisle. Eyebrows were raised at the sight of the two former enemies together.

  Danny could feel Beau breathing hard, starting to sob a bit in his throat. Just as he was going to say something encouraging, the doors behind the firemen burst open again and an apparition, covered in a bulky purple parka full of snow, its face white with snow and icicles hanging off the fur rimming the hood and the nose and swim goggles covering the face, shouted. “All right! Where’s my boyfriend! Oh Danny boy!” it sang out, and with a sinking heart, but a sunshine-filled mind, Danny let go of Beau and ran to what he assumed, and could only be, Bernie, or rather, Bernadette.

  Still sitting back where Danny and Beau had left them, Jacob wasn’t talking much. He was wired. He hated being cold; all he wanted to do was move back to Hawaii where he was born, but no…his father had gone and gotten killed and his mother had moved them back here to this Godforsaken cold landscape, because this was where she had been born and she had family here. He also hated having to live with his cousins; they were freaks. He also hated this school and everyone, well almost everyone, in it. He liked Larissa though; she was very pretty. In fact, he had lovely daydreams about Larissa, dreams that were about to start including Whit. He looked preoccupied with his thoughts, so Larissa turned to Whit.

  “I have to tell you something,” she said, looking up at Whit from under overly made-up eyelashes. Whit had never noticed this before, but Larissa reminded her of Nancy, what with all the make-up and the fashionable clothes she always wore.

  Whit smiled encouragingly. She wondered how Danny was getting on. She liked Danny; she did, she liked everything about him, both parts of her. She acknowledged that soon Dusty was going to be all of her, and she was grateful that she was going to be able to be her true self. She knew how fortunate she was to be able to do this at such a young age. Others had and she’d read their stories on the internet. Now that she was fairly sure her parents would neither kick her out nor kill her, thank you Nancy, she was excited that she could have a future life she would love to live, instead of keeping up the pretense she had for so long been doing. It had been okay, really a non-issue, when she was a little kid. Being a tomboy had been all right for a while, too, but once she hit puberty at twelve, it was terrible.

  Larissa was blushing. “I think you’re very pretty,” she said quietly, but then in her embarrassment she turned to Jacob and asked, “Don’t you think so, too? Isn’t Whitney just divine?”

  Jacob raised his eyebrows. He looked at Whit, wide-eyed. He looked back at Larissa, blushing furiously and beautifully. Shit, he realized. Shit, shit, shit. Although, if there were two girls together, he thought, and his imagination leapt into overdrive.

  Whit was dumbfounded. “Uh, Larissa,” she managed to get out, “I think you’d like my sister Nancy. You, uh, have a lot in common. More than with me I mean. Lots more. You know what I’m saying?” She looked around the auditorium and saw Nancy down by the table of drinks Ms. Wickers was setting up. “That’s her over there, see?” she pointed her out. Larissa frowned, but looked where Whit was pointing, and her eyes lit up once again. Dusty wanted to giggle so bad it almost hurt to not let herself go with it. Larissa got up, stepped right overtop of poor Jacob, though he had one brief joyous moment when her crotch was right at his eye level, and then she started down the aisle toward the stage.

  Their attentions were taken by shouts down by the stage. They sounded like happy shouts but the words were not exactly pleasant. One strident female voice was calling out, “Bernadette, girlfriend, you old whore! What brings you here? Did you come because of all the luscious firemen? Woo hoo!”

  “Oh my God,” said Jacob. “That’s Ms. Wickers! Ms. Dub is uh…uh…” he was dumb-founded. He wasn’t exactly sure what Ms. Wickers was, but enough was enough. “Her, too?” he asked, pouting.

  Grace and Erica walked by, holding Mr. Grogan’s little boy. “She said whore,” one of them said. The ot
her repeated, “Whore!” and Joey Grogan sang out, “Whore! Whore! Whore!” Apparently he’d fully recuperated from his fright this morning, but then, Grace and Erica could cheer anybody up.

  Todd, who was walking dejectedly behind them, flapping one hand, his iPad under his other arm and no power to use it with, said, “Firemen aren’t luscious. Luscious means sweet and pleasant to taste or smell. Those firemen stink and they don’t look pleasant either. They look dirty and unhappy.” Everyone around him turned and stared. It was the longest sentence he had ever said. Some kids hadn’t even known he could speak. Several nodded approvingly, like he had done something amazing, which actually it was, as speaking at all was so far out of his personal comfort zone.

  Bernadette, dragging Danny with her, had practically run down to the stage. She was indeed Bernadette, full make-up, albeit wet with snow and melting icicles, combat boots, and a beautiful long purple and orange colored velvet gown that she was unrolling from out of the waistband of her underwear. Her gloves, hat and jacket she had thrown on the floor as she walked.

  “Dorothy Darling Dimples Wickers, you old puss, as I live and breathe! How on earth did they let you have a job around children?”

  All over the auditorium heads were turning, watching the two older ladies, er, women, as if they were slinging tennis balls back and forth. A week ago Danny would have died of embarrassment. Instead he stood there proudly, happy to be with Bernie/Bernadette, whoever she/he was. Because of her he was a hero twice-over, not that he’d brag about it or anything. Plus he’d punched a bully and he had a boy—sort of—friend. At that moment he stopped hating winter, for all the sunshine he could ever want was right here in this room, right now. It must have showed, for Ms. Dub smiled at him, and he smiled back. He didn’t know it, but there was radiance and joy in his smile. It shone from his eyes, and warmed good old Ms. Dub, who hadn’t had a student sincerely smile at her since she was in sixth grade and Jessica St. George, the ugliest girl she had ever met, had a crush on her.