Harbinger
Page 9
“Leave it.” Kel’s eyes blazed with the same buried rage I’d seen in him at dinner the night before.
“Trading favors with Dr. Mordoch? She’s a little old for you, but she’s probably all you could get.”
“I said, leave it.” Kel’s words were rigid. The same tension filled his body as he sat up straighter, but he didn’t move from his spot on the floor.
Damion stayed perfectly still too, but his body practically hummed with adrenaline. Gearing up for a fight.
“Now, now, boys. Play nice.” Nami interrupted the standoff. Kel shook his head, slouching against the wall again. Damion relaxed too. As if Nami’s voice had pulled them both back from the brink. “I woke up on the floor too, right next to the window. And it was open.”
“Ours too.” Zach tried to sound nonchalant, but a tremor in his voice betrayed him.
We were all trying hard not to make too big a deal about the night before. I mean, what if it was just some sort of hazing?
“Thing is,” Nami went on, and now an edge of fear sneaked into her voice too, “I tried to open my window last night, as soon as they moved me from Solitary. The thing was stuck. Painted shut and not even budging. My roommate tried it too. No one could’ve got that thing open.”
I did.
But I kept that to myself. I wasn’t about to put myself at the center of this.
Then Maya did it for me. “Anyone else have a creepy drawing on the floor?”
The others looked blank or shook their heads. Just us, then. Great.
“What kind of drawing?” Kel’s deep hazel eyes were alert, the green sparking in interest.
I thought about the blood-red symbol that’d seemed so familiar. But before I figured out what to say, the door opened.
Damion dropped back into the crouch, whispering, “If any of you did anything to me . . . If I find out it’s any of you, I will end you.”
Aunt clacked back into the room. “Back into your positions.”
Maya took in a sharp breath to say something, but Damion cleared his throat and she closed her mouth.
It really was torture to force our bodies back into that squat. But we sat there while the other students tromped down the hallways to lunch. We sat as the building went silent. We sat there, all our minds wondering about last night. And about what other punishments we’d be facing if someone found out.
Aunt kept on reading Holbrook propaganda. Until our knees were on fire. Our muscles shaking. Until finally the door opened again and I heard Freddy’s boots stomp in.
“Hurry up and get in line!” Freddy ordered. “Provided that’s okay with Auntie here.”
Even facing away from him, I could hear Freddy’s sneer when he said “Auntie.”
“Of course. I’ve done all I can for them. They’re in Dr. Mordoch’s hands now.”
Aunt smiled at us as we forced our stiff bodies to stand up. Her joyous expression made me wonder what else we were in for.
“I said, get up.” Freddy’s big boots made a step toward our Family and I saw the focus of his wrath.
Kel was still on the floor. He’d managed to get out of the crouch, but sat with his back braced against the wall, breathing slowly. Hair fell across his eyes, but it didn’t hide the torment contorting his face.
Do it.
Before I lost my nerve, I crossed in front of Freddy and held out my hand to Kel. My fingers slid over his, interlacing with his gloved ones. And again, in the instant when I touched him, something happened. Not pain this time, but overwhelming. Like being drawn into Kel.
My head filled with the buzzing of a thousand bees. Angry and treacherous, Kel’s thoughts swarmed around me. Poised to sting.
I’d never picked up thoughts at this kind of intensity before, and in my mind’s eye, I kept very still. They began landing, one by one, covering all that was me. My whole being vibrating and pulsing with their anthem.
Then, as quickly as it came, the deafening hum died. I was back in the classroom. Kel standing in front of me now. His face dangerously close to my own. His breath on my cheek. The peppery scent of ginger humming through me, making me dizzy.
Kel’s gloved hand wrapped mine tighter. Holding me up. His dark eyes held the same question I had.
What was that?
“Get in line!” Freddy jerked Kel away from me and shuttled us all out of the classroom. And only one thought consumed me as Freddy corralled us out of the old house.
Come back.
Because when Kel touched me, I was terrified. Terrified and so very alive.
We marched past the empty fenced-in yard and I craned my neck to look back at Kel. His whole body seemed to be shaking as we walked down the path to the Compass Rose. Freddy paused to talk to a Taker at the front door.
I forced myself not to look at Kel again. Desperate for distraction, I focused on the porch column in front of me. Tracing the pattern carved into it with my eyes. Lines and twists and—
The flying bird. The same winged-V from this morning was carved into the stone column, part of a complicated design weaving its way up the granite.
“They’re ready for you. Move it,” Freddy ordered.
The same unnerving sense of recognition immobilized me. It was like I was standing in the dorm room again, staring down at the crimson-streaked floor. I reached out and traced the symbol with my finger. The rumble of drums reverberated through my mind. Rising into a fevered pulse that crescendoed in a wave of memory.
Hands clawed at the red earth. Blood dripping down the fingers.
Kel’s cough brought me out of the vision. His eyes were looking at Freddy. The Taker was fingering his Taser like an Old West gunslinger. I shut the bloody image out of my mind, turned away from the column, and hurried into the Compass Rose.
I’ll come back for you.
I didn’t let myself glance at Maya. Maybe she hadn’t noticed the symbol. Instead, I paid attention as Freddy led us to the cafeteria. A left turn. Then a right. Another left.
The bizarre layout of the Compass Rose gave it a lopsided feeling, like the entryway was just pasted onto the side of the house. I needed to learn my way through the maze of hallways connecting the front room to the rest of the building.
Like ants, we marched one after the other, down the dark, stuffy passageways. A right. A long hallway. Then a left. One more left, and we were at the cafeteria.
A hundred hungry faces glared at us as Freddy marched us toward Dr. Mordoch and her podium.
“The student body is whole again.” Dr. Mordoch started clapping, and all the Takers, Aunts, and Uncles lining the walls joined in.
Dread sat heavy in my stomach. What would the Consequences be? Was Dr. Mordoch going to lecture us in front of the whole school? Or would we get locked in Solitary again? Worry tightened across my chest, making me struggle for air.
“Now, I know you’re all hungry for lunch. But as I said earlier, these students need our help.” As Dr. Mordoch continued her performance, Freddy lined us up facing the students. Like prisoners facing a firing squad. On my right, Zach practically vibrated with anxiety. Every muscle in his soft body was pulled taut, like it physically hurt to be standing up in front of all these people. On my other side, Damion’s mouth stretched into a straight, grim line as he stared out at the students. The tables of day-glo green and orange jumpsuits looked absurdly festive against the mass of resentful faces.
“While all of you were engaged in Socialization this morning, learning how to communicate”—Dr. Mordoch’s voice projected out over the tables of students—“this Family was disrespecting the rules of Holbrook. And disrespecting you. At Holbrook Academy, as in life, one person’s behavior affects everyone else. While you were sitting here patiently, they were facing the first part of their Consequences.”
The other students didn’t look patient. The clock on the far wall said it was 12:41. Which meant they’d been sitting here, in silence, for more than an hour, watching their mac-and-cheese congeal into an orange, plasticky gl
ob. They looked hungry and hot. And mad.
“Now we must wait a little longer as we all participate in the second phase of Family Five’s Consequences. As these students”—Dr. Mordoch stepped off her platform, microphone still in hand, and gestured to our Family with a dramatic sweep of her arm—“are learning to respect discipline, they must also learn to respect you, their peers. There is only one way to come through this journey, and that is together.”
Dr. Mordoch was getting her audience warmed up. Her voice grew louder as she strode back and forth in front of us. Her tone had an edge to it. And after an hour of doing nothing, people were ready for some excitement.
“Buddha says, ‘There is nothing more dreadful than the habit of doubt. Doubt separates people. It is a poison that disintegrates friendships and breaks up pleasant relations. It is a thorn that irritates and hurts; it is a sword that kills.’”
A few heads were nodding now. They might not know what she was talking about, but they could smell blood.
“This Family has wounded you all with the seeds of doubt they’ve planted. Can you trust them? Can you trust the people sharing the table with you? Can they trust you?” Dr. Mordoch paused dramatically.
Students were looking around their tables, examining their Family members. Dr. Mordoch had them right where she wanted them.
“We must heal that wound through open, honest dialogue. This Family needs to hear how their disrespect made you all feel.” She turned to us. “I will start.”
“I feel like you were selfish to disobey your Aunt.” Dr. Mordoch looked at me, but I refused to meet her eyes. I had no interest in seeing what lurked inside that woman’s mind. “I feel like you were selfish to feed your own egos while the rest of the students were hungry and waiting.
“Now it is your turn to repeat what I’ve said. I must know that you’ve heard my feelings. I must know you are engaged in the healing process. You will answer my statement with ‘We were selfish.’”
Is she kidding? I felt Dr. Mordoch’s eyes on me again. Daring me to speak. To protest. To struggle against the humiliation. The silence stretched on until two of the Takers stepped toward us, Tasers at the ready. Then Damion’s booming voice shook me.
“We were selfish.” Damion was standing at attention. He frowned at the rest of us, and I remembered what he had said about falling in line.
Reluctantly taking his cue, I mumbled along with the others, “We were selfish.”
“Now who will stand up and go next?” Dr. Mordoch’s face was calm and reverent. Her arms opened wide, entreating the room full of silent students. But they weren’t quite ready to turn on us.
“Only when we understand one another can we be a community. And only then can we sit down and eat together.”
That was the final push they needed. Hearing the word eat, a skinny guy sitting in the back stood up. Dr. Mordoch was throwing us to the wolves.
12
“PLEASE COME TO THE FRONT and share with the Family.”
The volunteer didn’t look like he enjoyed the eyes of the whole school on him as he walked through the tables. But once he was standing in front of us, face-to-face, he seemed more confident.
“You think you’re better than us.”
I knew he was probably just hungry. I knew he didn’t know me personally, but I still felt like I’d just been smacked. Dr. Mordoch turned to my Family, cueing us with the right response.
“We think we’re better than you,” we mumbled, repeating the words.
“Louder!” Dr. Mordoch shouted.
“We think we’re better than you.” My thin voice was amplified by the group, so our words filled the cafeteria. Giving them the weight of truth.
Dr. Mordoch smiled and turned back to the lanky guy. “Thank you. That was very brave of you to go first. You have earned the right to reclaim one of your confiscated possessions.”
That got the room’s attention. Four more people stood up, and standing next to me, even Damion seemed unnerved. He glanced at me, and in his eyes I saw the wall that he had built there. A wall that Holbrook was destroying, brick by brick. What happens when it falls?
As students moved to the front, I studied the new volunteers. They still looked nervous. But I could see an eagerness in their faces as they tried to think up good enough complaints to earn back their treasures.
A geeky boy spoke softly, focusing in on me. I could smell the sour sweat on him. “You’re on a power trip. You just love us sitting here, waiting for all of you.”
“We’re on a power trip,” we echoed.
Dr. Mordoch nodded her approval at him and the volunteers got gutsier.
“You think you’re such a rebel.” A mousy girl with a long nose jabbed her finger at Nami’s hair. Then she turned on Kel. “And you in those stupid gloves. Looking so goddamned smug.”
The next person interrupted, not waiting for us to repeat. And the next. And the next. All those years of being outcasts, of being bullied by kids, yelled at by teachers, analyzed by counselors and parents, had prepared these students perfectly for this moment. Those endless taunts and accusations had become ammunition they spewed at us.
“You screwed up your life!” a guy yelled at Zach, his twisted face glowing in the suffocating heat. “But you’re not gonna screw up mine.”
People murmured and nodded in agreement. The whole room stank of malice. And they kept coming. Finally, they had someone to blame for being abandoned here.
Our whole line backed away from the horde, but we only gained a few inches before the backs of our legs hit up against the platform that held the teachers’ tables. Damion managed to keep his face blank, but red patches darkened across Kel’s cheekbones. Anger drawing his whole face tight. He pulled on the neck of his hoodie, like he was trying to loosen it. Maya and Zach both turned inward. Zach’s body hunched, trying to present a smaller target. Maya folded her bony arms tight across her chest, like literal body armor. Nami shielded herself with a permanent smirk that only seemed to be making people madder.
“You hate us. You don’t even care what happens to us.” They were building momentum.
“You hate everything about your stupid little life.” Building on each other’s words.
“I’m not gonna take your shit anymore!”
It was an intoxicating chorus. Dr. Mordoch’s eyes sparkled as she called on them, one after another. But she kept the smile off her face. Giving credibility to this mob scene.
“You’re nothing!” a girl screamed at me.
And then a wad of bread hit me in the face.
There was an almost imperceptible pause while the whole room absorbed what’d happened. Dr. Mordoch just stood off to the side, a peaceful look on her face. Is this the compassion from other troubled kids that she told my dad about?
Then all hell broke lose. A volley of limp green beans pelted us. Blobs of artificial cheese flew through the air. Streaking my jumpsuit. Salty on my lips. Someone shoved Damion and I heard him mutter, “Stand down,” to himself, even as his whole body leaned forward. Straining against his urge to fight back.
“Enough!” Dr. Mordoch’s voice rang out from the sidelines. The whole room froze as her words echoed off the walls.
“I understand your anger. You are here trying to get better. But these students”—she waved in our direction—“are standing in your way.”
Dr. Mordoch’s words seemed to sap the energy from the near riot. A disappointed-looking girl dropped her handful of squooshed vegetables. A squat guy in mid-swing looked up at Damion’s bulk and backed away. One by one, they returned to their seats.
“We must not give in to violence. But, I believe your honesty today has helped these students. Perhaps they will decide, as you have, to seize this opportunity to choose a new path. Let us solidify our new openness by sharing a meal.”
All I wanted was a cool shower to wash off the slime. But now we had to endure lunch. None of us looked around as we threaded our way through the tables to our seats.
The rest of the day was a sort of fog. The food stains on our jumpsuits were like the bandages on a leper. The other students avoided us, moving as far away as possible as my Family trudged to English class, back to the cafeteria, and finally to our rooms.
The linoleum was clean, without a trace of the disturbing events of the morning, and I hoped it would stay that way. Neither Maya nor I talked as we crawled into our beds, the nightly drugs seeping into our systems. But this time, it was exhaustion that kept us silent. We were on the same side now.
13
I FELT LIKE I’d been run over by a truck. At least that would be something I could explain. As it was, I was on the floor under the window, my mouth tasting like clay and pennies. Grit crunched between my teeth, and my hands were stained blood-red again. Maya, eyes closed, was sprawled across from me in the same condition, and between us was another picture on the floor. Or more accurately, there was more of the same picture.
In the light of early morning, I could make out a thick, crudely drawn person on the linoleum. Like something out of a cave painting. One solid line outlined stubby arms and legs. But no face.
Instead of a mouth or eyes, there was the exact same symbol from the first morning in the exact same spot on the floor. The V with wings.
Plunk.
A fat drop of water splashed to the floor. The first of a hundred tiny wet circles.
Plunk. Plunk. Plunk.
I turned my palms over, catching the rain seeping from the ceiling. Letting it wash away the red grime from my hands. The water was so cold that it burned my skin. The ice froze my thoughts. It seeped into my chest.
Fear is an illusion.
I forced myself to take a deep breath. But more water surged under the door, its blue foamy fingers reaching for me. Clawing at my feet. Drenching the legs of my jumpsuit.