by H. L. Sudler
“Probably not. But my father does do what I ask him. After all, I am his little girl. And if I asked him to…oh, I don’t know…speak to your father in front of other members at the club, about you, my dad would do that. He doesn’t like a bully any more than I do. That would probably embarrass your father in front of some very important people. People important to his business. That can make things happen. Or not. Do you get what I’m saying…Missy?”
Missy squinted her eyes, aware that her friends were watching her.
“You all that and a bag of chips today, Janey. Isn’t that what your bestie Roxi would say?”
Janey Hightower stared at Missy. She did not blink, but she smiled devilishly. “Soup to nuts.”
Missy turned and walked away stiffly. She snatched her bag from one of the hive and kept walking. They followed, murmuring.
“Janey, thank you,” David said.
“No biggie,” Janey said, smiling wider now. “Missy’s a clown. Don’t let her get to you.”
“She’s also very jealous,” Bart Tennison said.
“How you figure that?” Perry asked, collecting his pack off the grass.
“Because she wants David,” Janey replied.
Roxanne exclaimed, “She what?”
“She wants your boyfriend,” Bart said.
Roxanne looked at David, who still had his arms around. “You want that heifer?”
David looked at Roxanne. “Hell no!”
“She wants him, Rox,” Janey said walking over to her friend.
“How do you all know that?” Perry asked.
“Because the way men know men, women know women.”
“Why doesn’t she want them?” Roxanne said, pointing to Bart and Perry. “Why she want my man?”
“Perry’s African American. A no-no to her,” Tennison said.
“And what about you?” David asked.
“Barking up the wrong tree.”
“Can we please eat already!” Perry yelled.
“Janey, we decided on pizza. That good with you?” David asked.
“Of course! I love pizza,” Janey said. “Let’s get you fed, Perry. You look ready to kill.”
“You’re not being funny,” Perry grumbled, as they made their way out of Gramercy Park and to Cherry Street’s Argo Tavern. It was an excellent time for food, drink, and a much-needed bitch session.
Pat Papadopolous was sitting in a corner of the pizzeria when they walked in. Pat was a tall, thick, good looking Greek, with black hair he often ran his fingers through. He was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans, and had just finished his lunch. He looked up from his reading and smiled at the group curiously, as if he had been expecting them.
“Is that Papadopolous from History class?” David asked, as they took a seat at a table near the door. They had ordered a pizza and had gotten their drinks from the soda fountain.
“Yeah, he always eats here at the Argo,” Perry said, sitting but looking back at Pat over his shoulder.
“You’re eating with us, soldier boy. Remember that,” Bart said smiling a little. He gave Perry a wink.
“What was up with Missy today?”
“Word on the street is she’s still pissed about you being picked homecoming queen,” Bart said.
“That was two weeks ago! She needs to get over it,” Roxanne exclaimed.
“She hates anyone that’s more popular than her,” Janey said, before sipping her soda.
“She can have the damned plastic crown, if she wants it that badly.”
“Why?” Janey asked, laughing. “You’re a Leo, and no self-respecting Leo gives up their crown.”
Roxanne smiled.
“You forget I’m a Leo, too,” David said, leaning close to Roxanne.
“Yeah, but you’re a flirty Leo. A peacemaking Leo. Roxi’s the fighter.”
“Oh, thanks,” David said, making a face at Janey.
“Hey guys.” Pat Papadopolous stood over their table, smiling.
“Hey, Pat,” Janey said. “Doing okay with exams?”
Pat smiled, and his eyes smiled too. As if he knew something everyone else didn’t. “Doing well. How about you all? You ready for the final day?”
David looked up at Pat. “Getting there.”
Perry said, “Why don’t you sit down and join us.”
Papadopolous got a chair, turned it backwards and sat. The pizza came and they began to eat.
“You want some, Pat?” Janey asked.
“No, I’ve eaten.” Papadopolous pointed over his shoulder. “You guys want some oregano?”
“Yeah,” Perry said.
Bart looked from Pat to Perry, as Pat got some oregano from another table and sprinkled some on Perry’s slice.
“Roxanne, you want some?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Me too,” Janey said, playfully.
“You want some, Bart?” Pat asked.
Tennison smiled. “I wouldn’t want to be left out.”
Pat smiled back. “Don’t worry, you won’t be.”
Bart Tennison scratched his light beard and looked at Pat suspiciously. “What are you reading?”
“Oh,” Pat said turning his book over and presenting it to the crowd. It was all black and small, about the size of his hand. The cover read A Brief Excursion Through American History.
“Did we have to read that for class?” Janey asked.
“Not for class, no. I picked it up somewhere and couldn’t put it down.”
“What are you studying for tomorrow?” Bart asked. He continued to look at Pat suspiciously. There was an aura of mystery surrounding Pat that he couldn’t quite nail down. He had seen him around Franklin Charter Academy, but they didn’t share any classes. Here he seemed like he was aiming to be best buddies with everyone at the table, although Bart couldn’t recall anyone ever speaking with him at length.
Papadopolous ran his hand through his thick black hair. He caught Tennison looking at him. “Too many exams to count. But you should eat your pizza. It’s going to get cold.”
“I’m good,” Bart said, smiling superficially. He did not blink, but remained calm and collected.
“I insist,” Pat said. “Don’t stop on my account.”
Perry spoke up. “If you don’t want that pizza, I’ll eat it.”
“You should let him,” Pat said, holding Perry’s arm. He said playfully, “You all have exams and you’re going to need your strength. No skipping meals.”
Everyone looked at Bart as he picked up his slice and took a bite. Pat smiled, closed mouth but wide. His eyes smiled too.
“You eat here a lot don’t you? At the Argo?” Bart asked Pat.
Pat nodded cheerfully, now that Bart was eating. “I know the owner. I just saw…what’s-her-name?…Missy Alexander here earlier today. Not long before you guys walked in. She was with her pack of girlfriends.”
“We saw her,” Roxanne said, flatly.
“Did you put oregano on her slice of pizza too?” Bart asked with a raised eyebrow.
Pat smiled, and so did his eyes. “Matter of fact…I did.”
They walked back to the school together. Bart was late for his study session.
“Slow down,” Roxanne said, suddenly tired.
Tennison turned back to look at her. He was walking up ahead of the group, Perry in tow. He wanted to get to his session, but he also wanted to get away from Pat Papadopolous. Something about Pat unnerved him. He was too familiar with the group. Too smooth. Too likable. Too…something. And while none of them had spent any remarkable amount of time with him, they all seemed to drink up his presence like a love potion. “You know what these are for?” Tennison said pointing to his legs. He was terse.
“Walking,” answered Janey.
“That’s right. For taking you places. Going somewhere.”
“Now you got him going,�
�� Perry said.
“Preach on, brutha man!” David joked.
“Yeah, but why we gotta walk so fast?” Roxanne stifled a yawn.
It was Pat who answered. So calmly, so quietly, his words were almost not heard. They seemed to float like dandelion seeds on a still summer air.
“Time waits for nobody...and you need to be where you need to be.”
Bart Tennison stopped and looked at Pat on the steps of Franklin Charter Academy, and suddenly he knew what it was he didn’t like about Pat. From the time he saw him in the corner of the Argo Tavern, looking up at them as they entered; from the time he sat with them, spreading oregano onto their pizza slices; to now, right now on these steps. Pat Papadopolous looked through them, beyond them, into them. A familiarity with them that was immediate…and spooky. As if he were a character in a movie, the one who knew a secret he wasn’t telling. His friendship with them was phony, seemed predicated on something else.
“I’ll catch up with you later,” Perry said, patting Bart on the shoulder. He went to enter the school with Roxanne, David, and Janey.
“Later,” Bart said, quietly. He and Pat stood on the steps looking at each other, into each other’s eyes.
“You don’t like me, do you? You think I’m too close to your friends…to Perry. But it’s not what you think.”
“Tell me what I think, Pat,” Bart asked.
Pat shook his head. “I’d rather not. Everything will become clear to you soon.”
“And what exactly does that mean?”
Pat pursed his lips and looked down at his feet.
Bart squinted. “You know what I don’t like about you? I don’t know who you are, and yet I feel like you know something about me you don’t want to say. Spit it out. If you’ve got something to say, spit it out.”
Pat was quiet for a moment, and his eyes smiled. They did not blink, they did not waver. He leaned toward Bart. “You know…I was told you were the friendliest of the bunch. The most open and welcoming. Jealousy is not a good look on you.”
“Who told you that I was friendly?” Bart asked, impatiently. “Perry? Janey?”
Pat bypassed the question. “Bart, keep in mind that even the innkeeper was welcoming to Mary, Joseph, and the baby Jesus.”
Bart frowned. “You’re comparing yourself to Christ?”
“Don’t you think we’re all are born with a destiny to fulfill? That we’re all in each other’s lives for a reason?”
“Stop talking in riddles,” Bart said, “or playing whatever game you’re playing.”
Pat sighed, nodded, then walked around Bart. He stopped suddenly and said over his shoulder, “I’m your friend, Bart, and I always will be. We’ll see each other again, I promise you. God loves you. My gods favor you too.”
Bart frowned and spun in time to see Pat enter the school. He jolted as his eyes caught something. Written on Pat’s backpack was a name, one word that caused Bart’s stomach to sink in on itself in recognition, his mind to race. It said: Paedagogeus.
Bart looked away, scratched his head. He knew that word. It was spelled differently than the word he knew, but he was sure the meaning was about the same. Paedagogi. Paedagogus. He had learned something about this in his Latin class. Latin writers Ovid and Virgil took figures from Greek mythology and gave them Roman names. Paedagogi were educated slaves who taught children, mostly boys. A Paedagogus was sometimes associated with elite families too. A teacher. Educator. Mentor. They served elite children as their protectors, companions, moral and academic educators. In Greek fraternities, this designated person would travel with the Pledges during their final night, guiding them safely into Brotherhood.
Bart caught a chill. It was ridiculous. Why should a name on a bag cause him to shudder? Why would a name on a bag seem so fitting for Pat Papadopolous? A fellow schoolmate they just happened to see at the Argo.
Bart felt suddenly sleepy
(sleepy),
and tired
(tired).
He’d catch a serious nap after school today. Gear up for tomorrow’s exams.
Bart Tennison looked out over downtown Philadelphia. Over the large skyscrapers gleaming with golden afternoon sunlight, over the October sky, baby blue with soft white clouds, the green grass littered with fiery autumn leaves. Everything looked so vivid. Magical. Like he’d never seen the world before. Like he’d never see it again.
Roxanne was sleepy too, there was no denying that. But she couldn’t tell if it was from exhaustion or the pizza she’d eaten. She struggled to keep her eyes open as the afternoon wore on, and especially during Mrs. Conway’s Spanish cram session. Even Perry across the room looked like he was struggling to stay awake. His eyes seemed to be glassing over the more Mrs. Conway droned on.
Roxanne rubbed her eyes and looked down on her vocabulary words. She looked up again, and her head weaved a little from sleepiness. She put her chin in her hand, pretended to write something, but slowly…slowly…she felt she was drifting away. Her pencil fell and she snapped awake, picked it up from the floor, shuffled some papers, focused her eyes on her text book. She closed her eyes just for a second. Just for a second. Just…for…
“Negress!”
And then the switch against her back. Then the punch. Then the white men gathered around her as she laid on the ground. The stench of manure was strong in her nostrils.
“Get up, nigga!”
She touched her face. She had no idea what the fuck was going on, but goddamn it she was going to put her foot in this bitch’s ass. She had already had enough of Missy’s shit today. She had no idea why she was dressed this way. No idea why these men were around her, hitting her, calling her names. Why everything looked the way it did. But she was fed the fuck up!
Roxanne got to her feet as fast as she could. Or as fast as her dress would allow. Someone took her strong by her arm and yelled at her. One of the men.
“What you call yourself doing, sleeping when you supposed to be out here working?”
Roxanne eyes ignited with fury and she snatched away from the man. “Don’t you fucking grab me!”
The man frowned and towered over her. “What you say to me, gal?”
Roxanne pointed in his face and growled. “I said don’t put your fucking hands on me!”
He shoved her, and Roxanne’s fists trembled in rage. She hawked and spat, and he jerked back stunned. He pulled his hand away from his face, it was covered with spit. He looked at her too late. She punched him hard, flooring him. He cried out in pain.
“I got three brothers! Best believe I will knock you out!”
Someone hit her from behind with a piece of wood, to the head. She was hit hard enough for her to see flashes of light. Hard enough for the world to spin and for her to go temporarily deaf. She grabbed the back of her head, but one of the men twisted her arm behind her back. Then he choked her from behind with his other arm.
The man on the ground climbed to his feet. He opened his jacket and pulled off his belt.
“You want the strap, darkie? I’m gonna give you the strap!”
He whipped Roxanne, first across the face, then across her chest, beating her breasts and stomach. She screamed, struggled in rage. The men all cheered, jeered her, and a crowd had gathered to watch in entertainment. No one heard the running feet. No one saw a figure dash through the crowd.
Perry flung himself on the man with the belt, punched him hard across his jaw, knocking him out instantly. The crowd gasped in shock, and the man who held Roxanne flung her to the ground.
“Oh, you want some too boy?”
Perry ran for him, aimed low, and grabbed him by the waist, raising him up off the ground. He slammed him against the cobblestones, knocking the air out of him. The man fell limp and lost consciousness.
“Perry…?” Roxanne said. She was on her hands and knees, looking at him strangely. He was dressed the same as the others. In crea
seless pants, a dirty shirt, and dusty shoes.
“Get up, we gotta go!”
“Where the hell you goin’, nigga?” said one of the two other men. He pointed a gun at Perry. “You ain’t going nowhere.”
“Put the gun down,” David said from behind him. He was also holding a gun. He pushed it against the back of the man’s head.
There were gasps and cries from the crowd. And Roxanne, surprised to see David, dressed the same as Perry, had to yank her eyes off him to look at the men and women now gathered around. The women stood in their green or gray day dresses, with high V-necks, flared wrists and ruffles, and gathered fabric in back. Their hair was piled high and capped off with a decorative hat that was wrapped in a ribbon that trailed down the back of their neck. The men stood next to them in tall hats and long overcoats, creased slacks, and shined shoes. They wore gloves and carried walking sticks. Nearly all had long sideburns, beards, or mustaches. Roxanne stared in horror, because they looked so…authentic.
The man with the gun stiffened, tried to turn around.
“Don’t move,” David warned. “And put down your gun…now.”
The man slowly lowered his arm, and Bart stepped from the crowd and took the gun from him.
“Let’s go,” Bart said. He sounded nervous and looked petrified.
David helped Roxanne up from the ground, and he, Roxanne, Perry and Bart ran for a horse-drawn carriage that was waiting for them down the street.
“What the hell is going on?” Roxanne screamed.
They were dropped off at a carriage house, and David, Bart, Perry, and Roxanne rushed inside.
“Rox, calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down, David. Don’t tell me!”
The horses inside neighed at her screams.
“And why are we all dressed like this? Where are we? Why does everything look the way it does? What the…what the hell is going on?”
Bart, Perry, and David were silent, they looked at her with haunted eyes.
“We don’t know what’s happening,” David said. There were tears in his eyes.
“What do you mean you don’t know what’s happening?”
“I…I fell asleep in the school library…and I woke up here. Dressed like this. I didn’t know where I was or what was going on, until Perry found me.”