Of Minds and Masters

by Paul Ormond

  His newsfeed on MindHIve became littered with photos of his “friends” posing together in any manner of circumstances. The first time it was a shot of the “the guys” posted by Sage Rhinus. In the photo were all of his friends and teammates gathered around a table in Sage’s backyard having a BBQ. Mitch felt the pangs of anxiety knot in his gut as he realized he hadn’t been invited. He had texted Sage as soon as he saw the post. “Hey, what’s up? You having a party?” He then checked the time of the post. It had been uploaded only a few minutes before Mitch saw it. After that, he had waited anxiously by his phone in anticipation of a response from Sage, but nothing came. He checked the message he sent. Below the text, it read “‘delivered’,” but the there was no read receipt. He had then switched back to MindHIve only to see another post by Sage. This time “the guys” were posing like gangsters and making gestures with their hands. Mitch had texted Sage again only to watch in horror as his message went unread as well.

  As spring began to turn into summer, Mitch found himself more and more cut off from his own community. While he sat home alone one Friday night, Mitch had opened his MindHIve feed, only to see a red banner notification that read: “Sage Rhinus has started a live video, click here to catch the feed.” Mitch hesitated at first, but then clicked the link. He was immediately redirected to a streaming video of his friends dancing around a fire at the Kingsford gravel pit. Kids always gathered there when they wanted to get away from their parents. There was a large group of kids and they were all screaming and shouting at the camera. Music could be heard booming in the background. Sage turned the camera to face himself.

  “Yeah, what up? What up? We are right off the chain tonight! I’m here with my tightest homies and we are gettin’ into it!” Suddenly a screeching voice could be heard in the background over the distorted hip-hop.

  “Sage Alister Rhinus, what is the meaning of this?” the voice demanded.

  “Mom, what are you doing here? This is a live video feed,” Sage whined back at his mother.

  “I don’t care if you are on line with the President. You shut this down this instant! You are out way past your bedtime and are you drinking beer?” Sage’s mother barked.

  “Shut up mom. I can do whatever I want. I’m 16 now,” Sage shouted back.

  “Not while you are living in my house!” His mother screeched.

  Mitch watched in shock as Sage and his mother wrestled for the phone. In the background, several kids could be seen laughing and cheering at the spectacle. Then suddenly the video went black. It would’ve funny had Mitch not been consumed by the seething pain of missing out. It was difficult enough being a teenager, but being a teenager that happened to be the subject of a viral video, which featured one’s most embarrassing moment, was beyond bearable. Everybody at Kingsford Senior High had seen the video and it seemed like hardly a moment could pass without it being brought up. As Mitch walked through the halls of his school on his way to class or during breaks, he couldn’t help but overhear the snickering behind his back or the blatant and obvious taunts.

  His friends, having ghosted him online, were no different at school. He had once sat at the cool table in the cafeteria, but he now found himself relegated to the outer edges of the social order into no-man’s land. Kingsford High was a big school in a small town. While the student body was diverse enough to have a wide ethnic group, the pecking order was real and omnipresent. The only place Mitch could find a space to sit now was way in the back near the doors to the rear garbage depository, or the stink pit, as it had been aptly named. Sitting near the stink pit meant that one’s social status was as at the bottom of the rung. In order to get to the stink pit, he had to walk past every table in the cafeteria, turning the entire ordeal into a daily walk of shame for Mitch Mythic.

  After grabbing his lunch, on the last Monday in May, he pretended not to notice the table filled with his teammates and walked towards the back of the cafeteria, pretending to be really interested in whatever was in the soup provided by the lunch ladies. It appeared to be a tomato broth with what looked like carrots. He could hear the cat calls begin as he attempted to make his way to the stink pit unnoticed. As he walked by, a leg shot out from the side of one of the tables and caught his foot. He stumbled over the outstretched leg and was sent tumbling across the floor. The entire contents of his lunch were sent up and over the crowded tables of the cafeteria, only to come down in the most unfortunate location.

  The pretty girls always sat together and they were ruled by Candace McCallister. She was as tall as she was beautiful. As the captain of the Kingsford High Volleyball team, she ruled her squad with an iron fist and she didn’t hesitate to take offense to anything she considered out of line. She always held court in the cafeteria at the third table from the right with her back to the wall. She sat this way so she could watch people walk by and comment on their outfits. As usual, she was flanked by her posse of girls, all dressed in well-fitting brand name stretch lycra. Unfortunately for Mitch, this table, filled with the prettiest girls in school, was the final destination of his aforementioned bowl of soup. As it reached the apex of its climb, it became inverted and then let loose its pay load, bombing the entire group of girls. It then came down with a hard clank in the middle of the table. For a moment, the cafeteria went silent. The girls sat motionless, while tomato soup dripped from their hair and soaked into their clothes. Candace happened to be wearing a full sleeve white yoga top that she had paired with a matching white hairband. She appeared to have taken the brunt of the soup and a bright red splash sliced diagonally across her clean white top. Her face slowly began to turn the same shade of red as the tomato soup. Without warning, she let loose a scream so strong that the windows beside the table visibly rattled.

  “You ruined my top, you giant tool!” she screeched at Mitch.

  Mitch had gotten to his feet and he was attempting to comprehend the chaos that surrounded him. From behind him, he could hear the voice of Sage Rhinus.

  “What an epic fail! Mitch Mythic, everybody, Mitch Mythic! King of the fails,” he chided from the table filled with his friends. Candace and her gaggle of girls got up and gathered their designer bags. They began to charge out of the cafeteria towards the girls’ bathroom.

  “You’ll pay for this Mitch!” she snarled as she walked by.

  “It, it, it … it was an accident,” Mitch had stammered. The troupe of distressed girls marched past him and each one glared at him ferociously as she passed by. For a moment Mitch stood in stunned silence, but Sage had only just begun to taunt him.

  “Did anybody get that on camera? It’ll go viral for sure!” he said loud enough for everyone to hear. Sage hopped over the table and paused to fix his spiky black hair. “Mitch, you've got quite the talent, don’t you? Mitch Mythic: Fail Master,” he sneered and the entire cafeteria lit up with laughter.

  Mitch, having sat on his emotions for too long, felt a fiery rage immediately take hold of him. His normally cool surface demeanor instantly evaporated. He turned towards Sage and charged at him. Sage was a bit bigger than him, but Mitch tackled him in the midsection and they both tumbled to the ground. Mitch came up on top and began to pummel Sage with fists. All of the anger he had stomached over the past while came gushing out and his fists hammered his rage into Sage’s face and body. All of the students in the cafeteria chanted “Fight, Fight,” while the spectacle played out before them. Sage tried to fight back but Mitch was grabbed from behind by Vice Principal O’Hare, who had rushed onto the scene.

  “You’re coming with me, Mythic.” Mister O’Hare growled as he dragged Mitch out of the cafeteria.

  “You’re dead, Mitch. Dead!” Sage shouted as he got back to his feet and wiped off his Kingsford High Hockey Jacket.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Vice Principal O’Hare dragged Mitch out of the cafeteria and down the hallway towards the principal’s office. Mitch could still hear kids hollering in the cafeteria as he was dragged away. He looked down and his hands were shak
ing. Adrenaline was pumping through his body, and his rage was on full boil.

  “What were you thinking, Mitch?” Mr. O’Hare asked, holding Mitch in an arm bar as they walked towards the office.

  “It wasn’t my fault,” Mitch retorted.

  “It doesn’t matter whose fault it was. Violence doesn’t solve anybody’s problem. It just makes things worse. You’re in a lot of trouble young man.” Mr. O’Hare said.

  “I know.” Mitch groaned.

  Striking Sage was crossing a line, not just the school’s zero violence policy. Mitch knew that he was now officially doomed socially. His former friends would band against him and he would be fully ostracized from Kingsford High’s elite social community. He could forget about being ghosted. He had now created enemies on several fronts.

  Mr. O’Hare banged open the office door with his shoulder and dragged Mitch into a square waiting room with chairs lining two walls. He sat Mitch down in a chair, still holding him in an arm bar.

  “Mitch, I’m going to let you go now. Don’t take any swings at me. I don’t want to have to send you off to a youth detention camp,” Mr. O’Hare said as he eased his grip on Mitch’s arm and stepped cautiously away. “Ok, you sit here and cool off Mitch. I’m going to reheat my meatloaf. I’ve got to eat too, you know.”

  The vice principal turned and made his way to the door. “We’ll discuss this when I finish my lunch.” The vice principal closed the door and left Mitch in the room. Mitch held his head and stared down at his shoes. A bit of blood dripped on the floor. He touched his nose and saw blood on his hand. He wiped it with his sleeve and sighed.

  “Kind of make you want revenge,” a voice growled.

  “Huh?” Mitch looked up. He thought he was alone in the room but in the corner of the room sat a dark figure wearing a grey hoodie. The hood was drawn over the persons head concealing their face.

  “Revenge,” the voice growled again. “Don’t you want it?”

  “What do you know?” Mitch snapped back. “Why don’t you mind your own business? I don’t need any more trouble today. Things are bad enough as it is.”

  “You trend well,” the figure half chuckled as it spoke.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Mitch snapped back again. The adrenaline was still going strong and he was about ready to swing at anything. “You think that’s funny huh? You think I haven’t heard it all, already?” Mitch began to get out of his chair.

  “Careful,” the figure half whispered. “We be watched.” The figure looked up and made eyes towards the ceiling. The CCTV camera sat in an upper corner of the room benignly monitoring their activities. Vice principal O’Hare was no doubt watching while he scarfed down his meatloaf. For the first time, Mitch could finally see the face of the person sitting across from him. The boy had dark skin and his long black hair spilled out of his hoodie in dreadlocks. He appeared to be around the same age as Mitch but there was something about his demeanor that made him seem years older. Mitch sat back down in his chair in a huff.

  “Well, just keep quiet. I’m not in the mood for any more incidents,” he said while

  “What if told you I can help?” The boy replied. He toyed with a ring on his finger as he sat with his left leg crossed over his right. Mitch could detect a strange accent in the boy’s voice. It was an accent he couldn’t quite trace. He couldn’t recall ever seeing the boy in school before. The boy emitted a quiet cool, and while aloof, he seemed to be watching Mitch’s every move.

  “What are you gonna do? Go shoot up the school? I don’t want to be involved in any mass murder,” Mitch said sarcastically.

  “Mass shootings crude and pointless,” the boy said casually. “For real impact to be felt, certain sense of style must be imposed.” Mitch saw a strange grin flash across the boy’s lips.

  “Are you some kind of urban terrorist?” Mitch asked.

  “Depends on what you think terror is,”the boy casually replied. Mitch tried to pinpoint the boy’s accent, but he couldn’t place it. In any case, he definitely was not from Kingsford.

  “You’ve got lot going for you, Mitch,” the boy continued.

  “Yeah, right,” Mitch scoffed back. “I thought I told you to be quiet.”

  “Over 15 million views last time I check. That heavy footprint,” the boy said.

  “Heavy footprint? Shut up, I’m not talking about this with you right now. I don’t even know who you are,” Mitch said and turned away.

  “Let just say we have mutual interests.” The boy half growled.

  “I don’t think so. I don’t want anything to do with you. Just be quiet,” Mitch snapped.

  “I could keep quiet, but then you no know what I offer,” the boy said.

  “Not interested, and once again, shut up,” Mitch said.

  “Ok, but I can help with situation,” the boy said.

  “My situation? Why am I even talking to you? We’re done. No more interaction. Understand?” Mitch said while he looked away.

  “Ha, that funny, you don’t have lot of allies at moment. Turning me down and you all alone in struggle,” the boy said

  “Well, maybe that’s what I want right now, to be left alone. Can’t you take a hint, dude?” Mitch said

  “I can take hint. But maybe you should also take hint and listen to what I offer: help,” the boy said.

  “You can help me? What are you some kind of magician? Can you turn back time?” Mitch said with a laugh.

  “Ha, that funny too. A magician, I am not, but I have skills that could be of use. The internet is strange place filled with all types of hidden danger,” the boy said.

  “Oh, you’re a hacker. Look I don’t know what you’re after here, but like I said, I’m not looking for any more trouble. I also don’t want to wind up on some blacklist for hacking nuclear codes,” Mitch said.

  “I not interested in nuclear code,” The boy said.

  “This is nuts. Why am I talking to you?” Mitch snapped back.

  Just then, the door opened. Mitch expected Mr. O’Hare to walk into the room. Instead, it was the school’s administrative assistant, Mrs. Peachers. She was a kind and considerate lady getting close to retirement. She always wore long flowery dresses and she enjoyed dying her hair in various exotic colors. Today, she wore a long purple dress that was dotted with white tulips. Cat faces could be seen hiding behind the flowers and sparkly silver shone from their eyes. She whirled into the room and peered around.

  “Drakon, Drakon Trendago? Are you in here?” Mrs. Peachers asked.

  “I here Mrs. Peachers. I thought I told you call me Drak,” the boy replied, his tone had changed dramatically. He now sounded cheerful and obedient. He rose to his feet and flung off his hood in a dramatic fashion. He was much taller than he looked and his long limbs hung loosely at his side. His arms seemed to reach his knees. Mitch couldn’t help but stare. Mrs. Peachers wasn’t taken aback by the boy’s features at all. Obviously, she was used to the sight of this strange kid.

  “Well Drak, please come with me. Agent Reynolds is ready to speak with you now. What are you doing in the detention room? I thought I told you to wait in the meeting room. The immigration officer arrived 10 minutes ago and he’s been waiting for you.” Mrs. Peachers said as she walked out of the door.

  “I’ll be so happy to get permanent residency. I grateful that I can stay in this country,” Drak responded as he walked towards the door. Mrs. Peachers had already turned and was headed towards the school counsellor’s office. Drak glanced sideways at Mitch as he walked out the room.

  “We be in touch, Mitch Mythic,” he said as he walked by. Mitch peered out of the room and down the hallway. He watched as Mrs. Peachers showed Drak into a well-lit office. A pudgy man in a blue suit stood and greeted the tall gangly boy. The agent suggested that the boy should sit and Drak casually sat down. Mrs. Preachers closed the door and walked away.

  Who is this guy, Mitch thought to himself as he sat alone in the room, but he didn’t have much time to ponder.
He could hear Mr. O’Hare’s heavy footprints coming up the hall. The vice principal had finished his meat loaf and was now ready to talk. Mitch sighed and awaited his fate.

  “All cooled off, Mitch?” Mr. O’Hare inquired.

  “Maybe,” Mitch responded. He was trying to keep his emotions in check.

  “Well, come with me. Let’s go to my office and discuss this situation.”

  Mitch stood and followed Mr. O’Hare out of the room and down the hall. The walls of the school administration office were lined with cheerful posters of cats and waterfalls. Mitch walked sullenly behind Mr. O’Hare. He watched the vice principal’s heavy torso plod down the hall in front of him. His large brown loafers thudded on the green linoleum that lined every inch of floor in the school.

  Mr. O’Hare had once been a wrestler at Kingsford High. After graduating, he stumbled upon professional wrestling, where he had once been known as “The Brutalizer", until a back injury ended his career. While he played a bad guy wrestler in the ring, he was a stickler for the rules in real life and these days he took joy in exercising his authority as the school’s disciplinarian. Mitch almost puked as the vice principal opened his office door. He could smell the meatloaf that Mr. O’Hare had just hastily consumed.

  “Mitch, I’m going to be blunt. This is not good,” Mr. O’Hare said as he sat down behind his desk and gestured to Mitch that he should have a seat. “As you know, the school has a no violence policy and any fight will result in an immediate suspension. Now, I know how this could look on your record and I understand that you’ve been having a tough time lately, but boy is that video funny. I couldn’t imagine having that happen to me, let alone in front of everybody I know. I honestly don’t know how you’ve managed to handle yourself so well this far,” Mr. O’Hare said. Mitch dropped his head down. Every time the video was brought up, he shuddered inside, but he didn’t dare show anybody that it phased him one bit. Letting Sage getting under his skin was a mistake and he knew it. He wasn’t going to let that happen again.