“You get new stuff.”
“And what about...”
“McCutcheon! Hey, McCutcheon,” came a voice from about forty yards away. “Sorry it took me so long.”
I snapped my head around and saw Kaitlyn waving at me.
“Be right there, babe,” she said holding up one finger. “Just gotta drop this in the main office.”
Kaitlyn disappeared inside a door.
“Look, son, it’s a simple question and we’re officially out of time,” said the agent in the green tie. “You enter the white van and we’ll protect you. You stay here and give it a go on your own, there’s not much we can do other than warn you that your life is in serious danger. What’s it gonna be?”
“What about her?” I asked in reference to Kaitlyn. “Is she safe?”
“See that gardener across the way?” I looked across the lawn at a guy in a green jumpsuit trimming a hedge. “He’s one of us. And we have two custodians on campus right now as well. We’ll keep our eyes fixed on her for about a month or so, and by then we’ll know for sure if additional steps need to be taken.”
“But is she in danger?”
“We’ll do our best to protect her.”
“But is she in danger?” I asked again. After all, Willie the Weasel had seen us together not too long ago.
“You want odds?” I was asked.
“I want odds,” I said.
“They’re low,” the Marshal in the green tie replied. “I’d say fifteen percent the Priests have her on their radar.”
“Look, we’re done here,” said the guy in the blue tie, finally losing his cool. “The white van is a one-way street. Once you enter, it’s a done deal. And if you don’t enter now, it’s also a done deal. There are no second chances, kid. What’s it gonna be?”
I turned toward Mr. Freedman with a “What should I do?” look in my eyes. Again, his gaze dropped to the ground without offering me a reply. He’d been through Wit Sec. He’d told me so. And everything he seemed to be communicating to me right now by not saying a word about it seemed to tell me that it was the last place a person really wanted to go.
But when the leverage goes against you, sometimes a person has no choice.
It was a lose/lose situation, and I had about five seconds to make my final decision.
“McCutcheon. McCutcheon!” Kaitlyn called out as she popped out of the building. Her smile was warm and bright. “Sorry for the wait.”
I lifted my gaze and looked over at Kaitlyn. We made eye contact from about twenty-five yards away. A tear formed in the corner of my eye, then rolled down my cheek. A moment later I turned and scampered down the steps, hustling toward the van.
“McCutcheon! Hey, where’re you going?”
“Don’t look back, son,” said the Marshal in the green tie as he held my arm by the elbow and escorted me toward the road. “Don’t wave. Don’t acknowledge her. We don’t know who is watching and you don’t want to put her in harm’s way.”
“McCutcheon. Hey!” Kaitlyn screamed. “McCutcheon!!”
“Whatever you do,” I was told, “you can never look back.”
The side door to the white van slid open and I ducked my head and hopped inside while Mr. Freedman wordlessly remained on the curb. I took a seat between my terrified sister and my crying mother, and a moment later the vehicle sped off.
And poof! I disappeared.
ALAN LAWRENCE SITOMER is a California Teacher of the Year award winner and the founder of the Writer’s Success Academy. In addition to having been an inner-city high school English teacher and former professor in the Graduate School of Education at Loyola Marymount Univeristy, Mr. Sitomer is a nationally renowned keynote speaker who specializes in engaging underperforming students. To date, Mr. Sitomer has authored sixteen books with works ranging from hard-hitting YA novels like Homeboyz, The Hoopster, and Hip-Hop High School to humorous and warm children’s picture books such as Daddies Do It Different and Daddy’s Zigzagging Bedtime Story.
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