His eyes were wide open by then as he sort of joked, “Gee, be careful…your excitement could take you to someday getting a Nobel Prize, or maybe they’ll be making documentaries about you on some criminology network—the evolution of Melanie Johnson from nice, bright young woman to a life of insanity and crime.”
I joked, “Hey, perhaps I could pull off being a notorious criminal and still get a Nobel Prize!” Now wouldn’t that require even more skill?” I smiled as did he.
As the afternoon progressed we all discussed many topics—sometimes small stuff, but usually more deeper things. Daniel, Nicole and Mr. Lindberg would often bring up debate and try to involve me, but I am the kind of person who was anxious to start, but not make plans or even talk about my past experiences. School issues came up again, as did crime, social attitudes and the latest politics. I liked those topics and I was able to jump in and feel connected to my new friends.
In a short time I called Mark by his first name. He seemed to appreciate that on some level I discerned. He then joked about crime and the discussion we’d all had in class a few days back. He turned to me and said he was fixing up a meat dish, but it had taken him some time to catch someone tender enough to meet the high expectations set by Nicole. At this point we all tried to out-do each other’s dark humor that had manifested itself. “So what tenderizer is best for human meat?” Daniel joked to which Nicole said, “It depends on the main course’s age and gender you know.” I couldn’t resist, “Okay you guys, there’s three of us and so I have dibs on one of the legs from the unlucky main course.” to which Nicole joked, “Hey, nowadays people have become so fat I think one leg would be enough to share with lots left over.” I cannot remember the other cannibal jokes but we all had a bit of a laugh before dinner—of course it was a regular beef dish.
I guess it didn’t surprise me when Mark started dealing with actual history involving this theme while we were eating. He brought up how studies had shown that many advanced Meso-American civilizations had practiced cannibalism of sacrificial victims. In more contemporary times how some people had killed victims and fed them to unsuspecting patrons of restaurants. Then, of course, there was the famous Jeffrey Dahmer. Nicole started to get agitated and had a real disgusted look on her face and then said something odd, “Okay, I can see how someone might be tempted to kill someone, maybe a lot of ‘someones’, but then to eat them is just gross.” Mark agreed but said, “The taboo against eating each other is pretty strong. It was usually for ritualistic purposes in ancient societies—even the Book of Mormon describes such acts—but for the most part it involves a rather twisted individual to eat someone.” I thought to myself that maybe I should read the Mormon book the two guys on bikes left gave me the previous summer after all.
Mark said dinner was ready and as we went into the kitchen I asked a serious question, “Aren’t serial killers kinda into that whole ritualistic thing? I mean they seem to be trying to make a statement.” Mark answered, “Yeah, but only a few go to the extreme of killing people and then disposing of the evidence in the manner we’ve been talking about.” I caught myself laughing again, this didn’t happen on a regular basis but for some reason with him it did.
I have to admit that I looked at the meat again on the serving plate, but the food had tasted perfectly normal. The discussion turned to debate again and Daniel asked how well I thought I could fight for something I didn’t even believe in, and if I was capable of being as passionate for whatever side I had to take. I responded in the affirmative, “I can assure you I can take any case, or depict any emotion, at will.” Then Mark asked, “Really?” and glanced at the others to convey some subliminal message.
After dinner we went back to the living room and Nicole walked over to the DVD collection. She chose a movie that interested her and we all sat down and watched as she put in her choice. I had suspected a gore movie but instead she had chosen the very movie we had talked about earlier—the one about the cop who goes out and kills bad guys by luring them into his trap thinking he’s just some guy alone at night! She turned to me and asked if this was the film we’d talked about the other day and I said it was. Nicole grabbed a bowl of chips and then took my arm and we sat down together on the couch to watch.
At the end, Mark asked if the cop was a good guy or a bad guy. Nicole contended that he only killed people who deserved being killed to which I agreed. In fact, I made a rather strong case for his doing good, although I thought my views might have surprised everyone else. I did this because I believed in what I was saying though, and perhaps to demonstrate how well I could present a viewpoint. Then Daniel asked, “Are you showing us your true opinion or are you just pretending to prove you can?” I looked at him, no, I peered at him, and said, “There’s no way you could tell—if I want to I can make you believe anything I wish.” At that Mark loudly said, “Bravo!”
Then Mark said he had to at least ask if I felt anything for people who do horrible acts, “…after all, they are human beings, aren’t they?” I asked why one should have sympathy for someone who hurts innocent people? If anything such people deserve to die in manners far more terrifying that anything they subject their victims to.
After that he replied, “Interesting” in that classic psychoanalytical manner, and asked who has the right to decide what is right and wrong—or who is innocent or not.
I said that was easy—I said that I could decide. I had as much right as anyone else, but what made my opinions less powerful than some supreme court justice, is that he has been put in a position by those in power to make such decisions—but that doesn’t make his views any more correct than mine were.
Mark slowly got up and went over to the cabinet next to the DVDs. He took out a copied disc, and asked if everyone wanted to see something really disturbing. I was up to it and he asked, “Are you sure, I mean this is even beyond Nicole’s most vivid movies.” I was really curious now, and there was no way I would allow him to put it away. “Bring it on now!” I demanded.
Mark explained, “I do a lot of unconventional surfing on the net—I found this on one of those ‘jihad’ sites”. He put in what appeared to be was one of those terrorist videos, and I could guess it was going to wind up in a beheading. Mark again said he could turn it off but I insisted he leave it, as did Nicole. After the guy with a big knife said a few things in what was probably Arabic, he cut the guy’s head off and placed it on the body that was now on the ground. The face of the victim was motionless—a moment before he had been screaming in agony—now, nothing. There was a lot of blood and I wondered how the guys in the background disguised in facial scarfs were reacting—were they disgusted, in some sort of shock, or fascinated by the sight? I wondered what it would have been like to be in their place.
“Fascinating...” I said. “...I mean look—the body is still trying to breathe. I wonder if his head is still in any way conscious.” We then started to discuss blood flow, reflexes, and even stories from the French Revolution and scenes in that Mel Gibson movie showing Indians sacrificing prisoners on a giant pyramid, with the camera shot being from the victim’s point of view—being conscious as the heart was taken out and even after the head was removed. We wondered if there was any scientific evidence to prove one way or another.
After hanging out for what must have been hours into the evening Daniel looked at his watch and offered to take us to my house. Mark thanked us for coming over and I told him I looked forward to the next get-together. He seemed pleased while Nicole looked at him, then me, and then back at him in an inquisitive manner. That was just typical Nicole I thought at that moment.
On the way home Nicole asked how I felt about the jihad video. I told her, “It was interesting and all but I do wonder about both the executioner and the victim. The sad thing is that the guy who lost his head probably didn’t deserve it.” She nodded in agreement, “You know what, Melanie? What would have been interesting is that after the video one could have seen an interview with the people who did it
.” Then I suggested, “True…and then execute them the same way!” She nodded in agreement and then Daniel asked rather sarcastically, “Are you sure they should be executed? I mean aren’t they human beings too and deserving of protection?”
At that we all laughed. Then I stated, “You know, I don’t know about what these guy’s motivations were—my guess is that they are hiding behind religion so they can get together and make a snuff movie.” At that Nicole asked me not to tell anyone about the evening—and especially the jihad video—since some people might not look too kindly at a teacher showing something like that to students. I said that she had nothing to fear—I valued loyalty very highly and would never betray the confidence of my friends.
When we arrived at my home Nicole got out with me as Daniel said he would wait by the car and make sure we were both safe. I commented to her, as we arrived at my door, that she was lucky to have a guy wanted to protect her. She then said, “Yeah, he’s great, and I do appreciate it, but I can assure you that anyone wanting to do me harm will be in a freezer at the morgue—and that’s if they are lucky.” As I chuckled I noticed a firm seriousness on her face. I wondered how powerful she could be as we stood together. I then told her I really appreciated her company and that I had a great time. She agreed and said she looked forward to our next get-together.
Chapter 8
We were on B schedule so I would have psychology three times that week. As I was walking out of my house Monday morning Daniel and Nicole surprised me by driving up and offering me a ride to school—I had not seen Nicole on MSN but then again I had been pretty busy on Sunday, after I woke up in the afternoon. Nicole asked if I had had a good time on Saturday to which I let her know I had. Right then she asked what I was doing Friday night. I answered, “The usual.” to which she said, “Great! We are going over to Mark’s again on Friday just to hang out.” I was actually starting to have a social life I thought to myself. I eagerly answered, “It’s a date!” Nicole seemed quite happy with that.
We got to school and Daniel mentioned they had a few things to do and that they would meet me later at lunch. “See ‘ya” I said as I entered the school.
It was a regular day except now I felt I had a stronger connection to others. That was a nice feeling, until my sprouting contentment was shattered by reality. I noticed a couple of big guys blocking a smaller student as he was getting ready to close his locker. I did not know any of them but the drama was easy to interpret…just like spotting a couple of cats toying with a condemned mouse. First there’s intimidation, then grabbing him to keep him from escape—and then once he puts up some feeble resistance, he gets shoved, he protests and then gets punched. The drama is played out every day in every public school in America.
Some students were watching the play unfold and then, finally, a teacher showed up. It was Mr. Lamb but all that he did was approach the guys, who by now had stopped, upon seeing him, they smirked and said, “Hey coach!” and sheepishly walked away, their little game ruined, for the moment. The victim of the bullying didn’t say anything—he just walked away with a look bordering on tears, but not daring to let anyone see him further weakened.
I turned to Lamb as he was now standing next to me and asked, “So what’s going to happen to those jerks Mr. Lamb?” He did a little grunt and responded, “Oh, they’re good guys, just a bit dumb when it comes to following the rules some of the time.” Why didn’t his tone surprise me? “If I catch them doing that again they’ll be in detention.” I shot back, of course not caring about the consequences—including his not liking me, “So let me ask, if a couple of big guys met you in a dark alley and started pushing you around, and then punched you, and a cop came by and just asked them to stop, you’d be satisfied with them getting a little warning?”
Lamb turned red and said that this was a different situation than the one I was describing to which I replied, “That’s true, in regular life you can choose never to go into that dark alley—yet the law demands that a kid has to go to school even if it means getting bullied every day. I guess you’re right.” I am not sure he detected the hint of sarcasm, or noticed the emotionless look I gave him as he stood there glaring at me. I could not stop—this was too perfect an opportunity to express my disgust, “You know, maybe if school officials did their jobs there would be less school shootings taking place in this country.” He by now had a blank look on his face and stared at me like a confused, threatened animal. “Look here young lady, you may be new to this school, and have become one of Lindberg’s little group of Emo nerds, but you’ll be lucky if you don’t get detention for the next month with your wise mouth. And, just remember, your little crack about school shootings could get you in a lot of hot water if I choose to report you. Best you just shut up and forget this conversation ever took place, and learn a little bit of respect.” I came close to telling him that he’d have to earn my respect, but I calculated this was not the right time and place—let him walk off and deal with this at another time. Of course, I was extremely angry, but I was not about to show it just then.
When I saw Nicole and Daniel during the break following 5th period I told them what had happened, and Daniel got really angry and started to describe Lamb with some terms that were somewhat atypical of Daniel. His usually outgoing yet predictably friendly, although sometimes irritating, aura of comic, intellectual and would-be commentator persona seemed to give way to a pure hatred of Lamb. I asked why he hated Lamb so much and he just shrugged and said he had his own reasons.
Then I asked, “Why have I seen you helping Lamb a couple of times if you hate him so much?” Daniel answered, “Look, I said I have reasons for despising him, and aaaaaai have my reasons for being Lamb’s teacher’s assistant! I will just say that without me Lamb wouldn’t even know how to log onto his computer, much less be able to operate any programs, although he would never admit it. Of course that could be a big mistake…if…well anyway…the bell is about to go off so let’s just meet for lunch, okay?” Daniel apologized for his outburst and saiid he hoped I was not angry with him. I assured him I was only angry at school violence and incompetence—and Lamb.
I asked to leave a little early from 7th period, as I had a few days earlier, and said I was feeling sick—in reality I wanted to get to Mark’s class before the bell rang since I thought he would be interested in talking a couple of minutes. When I opened the door he greeted me and we talked about what today’s lesson would be, but he only mentioned weekend in a fleeting “Hope you had fun on Saturday.” I asked him what period he had his free class (resource class) and I found out it was the same as mine! I asked if he’d mind if I came around and just hung out—hoping he did not start believing I was a hopeless geek—but he was quite enthusiastic as he said he’d be happy to see me. Then I asked if he thought I was a nerd, he then looked at me funny and said a nerd is usually someone who was bright, but fixated on something so much they are boring, they are socially awkward and generally unattractive. He smiled and continued, “You are very far from being any of those things!” Wow, I think that was the greatest compliment I’d ever had!
The next day I was disappointed when I discovered Mark had some sort of meeting he had to attend during the resource period—I was angry at the administration for ruining my day. When I got to Miss Green’s class I was able to start working on her assignment. Nicole and I discussed each other’s topics but then the conversation turned to Lamb as I realized that soon I’d have to be going to his class. “Think he’ll still be mad about yesterday?” Nicole asked but I just told her I didn’t really care, “What’s the worse he can do now?” Nicole remained silent so maybe I tried to re-assure myself by stating, “Of course, I want good grades, but I doubt even he would be so petty as to get even through docking someone’s grade.” Nicole looked as though she were going to say something, but stopped and sighed.
I still held a great deal of resentment towards how Lamb had treated me the day before; and more than once I’d fantasized about how cool i
t would be for him to be on the receiving end of a good beating—even one resembling a Medieval round in a dark torture chamber. Yet when his class began I sat down and looked at him, but he didn’t even acknowledge me in any way. I thought it strange that I our encounter had dominated my thoughts for over a day now—did it even affect him at all? He began class with, “Okay, sorry about skipping over the requirements for the history paper but here they are. I’ll pass out the sign-up sheet, and I want you to put your topic next to your name.”
I went ahead and wrote down “eugenics” since I had been fascinated by genetics, what traits are inherited and even who should and should not pass on their genes. I expected ‘ol Lamb not to really like my choice. I guess I half supposed he’d have to look up what it was in the first place, even though the topic was in the textbook. However, he surprised me after looking over the list and calling my name out loud.
“Melanie Johnson!” Okay, now he had my attention, but for what? He loudly asked, “Your topic here...eugenics...are you sure that’s something that’s really all that important for the period we are studying?” I responded that I thought it was highly relevant but before I could go into detail he continued, “I don’t know, maybe like in Germany under Hitler.” I couldn’t resist, “Uh, wasn’t Hitler in power during the 1930s and early ‘40s?” He countered, “Exactly my point!” The stage was now set for me to prove his lack of knowledge,”I am not sure if you are aware of it but eugenics was important in the USA long before Hitler came to power in Germany. Of course, most people aren’t aware of how much our laws influenced policies that were later adopted in Germany but that’s okay...I mean, I am sure you’d find a report on it quite enlightening.”
Lamb was not happy with my rebuttal and shot back, apparently unaware of my subtle calling into question his intelligence, “There may have been some people in America who supported this sort of thing...” He seemed unaware that the rest of the class had no clue what he and I were arguing about, “...it wasn’t that influential.”
Melanie's Journey Page 8
