“So what’d your mom do?”
“She was really put off by the whole thing. She gave me the third degree for about an hour. When I finally told her what happened, she looked at me like I’d lost my mind and lectured me about how young ladies never, ever, ever get into a physical altercation. You like that one? Physical altercation. That’s my mother’s way of saying fistfight. She went through this whole drill about how I am never to embarrass my father with any of my behavior, and how my actions reflect on my father’s character. She got so worked up that she stormed out of our quarters, marched into the muddy woods, got a pine switch, and tested it on me.”
Sam said, “Good thing she didn’t permanently ground you from playing with us. Sounds like you’ll be paroled by the time the Saturday movie rolls around.”
“Which is perfect timing. What about you guys?”
It turned out that because Sam and Charlie had been picked up by their mothers, they got off light. Charlie just got lectured, and Sam’s mom was downright sympathetic. She was sure it was all just a little misunderstanding.
Sam said, “On the way home, before I could even explain about the fight, she said, ‘Well, whatever happened, I trust that you did the right thing.’”
“Yup,” said Sam, “that all took about half a second, and then my baby brother started to cry. He was in the back seat of the car just waking up from his nap. My mom smiled at me and said, ‘Well, as long as you’re here, honey, will you crawl over the seat and feed Mikey his bottle? You’re just so good with him.”
In fact, both of Sam’s parents were certain that their ever-so-sweet, ever-so-good, ever-so-perfect daughter couldn’t possibly have done anything wrong.
“Trade ya parents!” Jayla scoffed. Half of her was in disbelief, and the other half was just plain jealous.
“What about you, Kevin?” asked Charlie.
Kevin held up his hand as if to pause the conversation. All his concentration was on a huge wad of Bazooka bubblegum in his mouth. It seemed to pain him, but never the less, he worked that big, pink wad around, trying to get it into just the right position to start a bubble.
They all watched as the pink ball grew to the size of a baseball. Time to suck it back in before it popped. But no. Kevin kept blowing, way beyond the natural point of explosion. The bubble got to be the size of a softball, its ultra-thin skin starting to wobble. Only then, just when they were sure it would explode all over his black-and-blue face, he sucked it back in.
“Not a bad one,” he said. “Now what was it you were asking, Charlie?”
“I was asking what happened. How did Full Colonel Duncan react to your first day of school?”
“Oh, that. Trust me, the colonel was one ticked-off commander. You know the drill. He gets a call from the school, and it immediately becomes my problem. It doesn’t matter if I’m innocent or guilty! It doesn’t matter what went down. If he gets a call, I’m guilty. ‘Innocent before proven guilty’ is definitely not in my father’s vocabulary!
“I never quite know how this kinda thing is gonna go down, but in this case, he wasn’t angry about the fight. In fact, he said it wasn’t even a surprise I got in a fight on my first day. I started to think I might even get away with it. But, no. He found me guilty on two counts.”
Imitating his father, he recited, “‘First, you had the fight on school property. When you get into a fight, young man—and you will!—you take it offsite. You got that? Second, it wasn’t even your fight, it was someone else’s. You don’t stick your nose in someone else’s fight!’ Blah, blah, blah . . .”
“So what happened with your cheek?” asked Jack.
“Well, let’s just say he felt poorly about my choices.”
Jack couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing. It made him feel better, but only for the briefest moment. “I’m sorry I got you guys involved in my problem. I should be able to deal with Kerrigan myself.
“That’s a load of crap!” burst out Charlie. “That guy’s a complete mental case. There isn’t one kid in our whole class that can take Kerrigan by himself.” Then a grin crossed his face. “Well, maybe there is now.”
They all looked at Kevin.
“How’d you learn to fight like that?” asked Jayla.
“I don’t know. I guess it didn’t hurt that my ol’ man made me take some boxing lessons back at Fort Knox.”
“Wow!” Jack was incredulous.
“Yeah, for about the last year. It’s actually kinda fun. The guy who taught me was this really small guy. They called him a featherweight. He worked with me a lot. If we go to the gym sometime, I’ll show you. So, what happened to you, Jack?”
“What you’d expect,” Jack answered. “The colonel exploded in the car. Actually it’s kinda amazing we made it back to The Glass House without getting in a wreck. He was driving like a bat out of hell, and screaming at me the whole time. His eyes were on me more than the road. I was immediately sent to my room. Then he stormed around the place yelling and screaming at my mom. Sometime later he went back to work. That’s when my mom ripped me up for embarrassing my father and possibly ruining his career. You’re right, Kevin. No matter what goes down, no matter who starts it, or who did what, if the ol’ man gets a call—I’m guilty! Basically, neither of my parents give a crap about what happens, as long as it doesn’t come back to bite them.
“Then last night, my dad called me in for the talk—”
“No! No! Not the talk!” Jayla said in mock horror, and they all laughed.
“Yes, brace yourselves, brats. It was indeed the dreaded talk,” said Jack. “My dad grilled me about what happened, and who was involved. His conclusions were very simple.” Jack rattled them off like a rapid-fire machine gun:
“Ryan Kerrigan won’t stop coming after me.
“Never fight on school grounds again.
“The school better never call him again or I’m dead meat.
“Pick some place other than school for the fight.
“But don’t get caught fighting anywhere else.
“But don’t ever back down from a fight.
“And if I get my ass kicked, it’s my problem.
“Dismissed!
“Oh, yeah, and he restricted me to quarters for the next two days. I am not allowed to leave my room except to go to school.”
“And that fine-looking face?” asked Charlie.
“Black eye courtesy of Ryan Kerrigan. Nose courtesy of the colonel,” smirked Jack. “To quote our new friend, Kevin, let’s just say the colonel ‘felt poorly about my choices.’”
They were all laughing as the bus pulled up to school. But as they got off, Jack’s smile faded, and he thought, We weathered this one, but I need to do better at keeping these guys safe.
In the playground after lunch, Jack, Charlie, and Kevin gravitated to the back fence to hold a short war council. They came up with the Ryan Kerrigan Solution. First, they’d stick together—alone, they made easy targets. Being together might slow Kerrigan down. However, they concluded, no matter what they did, sooner or later he would pick another fight at school. So they decided when that happened, they’d agree to fight him—just not at school. They decided the best place would be out behind the post gym. It was a location any kid could get to, but one that was far from school. Also it was a spot where no one was likely to bust them for fighting.
Kevin added, “And remember, if he doesn’t show up, it makes him look like the weenie.”
Kevin scraped up some snow, formed a snowball, and threw it onto the roof of the school. He said, “I hate math, and I just know Mrs. Campbell’s gonna make us do that next.”
Jack said, I’m okay at math. I’ll help you.”
“Even that might not be enough. Is math your best subject?”
“Yeah, that and German.”
“Ugh! Do we have to take German?”
&n
bsp; “Yup. Twice a week,” said Charlie.
“And you like it?”
“Yeah, I guess,” said Jack. “I want to learn it so I can understand what the German people are saying. Sometimes my dad takes us to Göppingen on Sunday for church, and I have no idea what the priest is talking about. But I like to try and figure it out.”
“Not me, man. I hate languages almost as much as math.”
“What’s your best subject?’ asked Charlie.
“History and maybe geography,” said Kevin. “What about you?”
“Me?” said Charlie, “Definitely not science. Last week’s test almost killed me.”
Jack shook himself to forget the memory. “You had company there, Charlie. I bet we all failed.”
“Glad I missed it,” said Kevin. “So what subject do you like?”
Charlie thought a moment. “Lunch.”
Kevin winked at Jack, nodding toward Charlie. “I knew I liked this guy.”
The bell rang and they had to head back in. By the time they got to the school door, everyone else was off the playground. Mrs. Campbell was a stickler for getting back to class on time, so Jack picked up the pace. Unfortunately, halfway down the hallway some kid had barfed. The sight and smell made Charlie so sick, he thought he might lose it, too. He bent over as the other two scooted down the hall. It was only a second, but when Charlie straightened up, the janitor was blocking his way with a slimy puke mop. It seemed to Charlie like Mr. Electric Shock Hair actually took pleasure in not letting him get past. Charlie had to go the long way around. He was still in the hall when the late bell rang.
Mrs. Campbell glared at him. “Charlie, yesterday you never even made it back to class after fighting at morning break. That should have put you on your best behavior today. You owe me ‘I will not be late from lunch’ one hundred times. Have it on my desk first thing tomorrow morning.”
Charlie looked ticked as he headed for his seat. But before he reached it, there came a sharp sound of metal banging metal.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
Every kid in the room, even Kevin, knew that sound. Every kid in every military school around the world knew it.
Air-raid drill.
Kevin ducked into a cross-legged position under his desk, but all the other kids headed for the door. Jack leaned down and said “We don’t do the duck and cover here. There’s an old Nazi bomb shelter in the basement. Follow me.”
Their class formed an orderly line and made their way, along with the rest of the school, through the hall, down two flights of stairs, through a large iron door, and into a cavernous, concrete room. Mrs. Campbell’s class stayed together as one very silent unit. The minute they were up against a far wall and seated on the floor, she did a head count to make sure everyone was accounted for.
Kevin leaned into Jack and whispered, “At Fort Knox we just got under our desks. There was no bomb shelter. And we kept our eyes shut tight so we wouldn’t get blinded from the bright flash of the nuclear bomb.”
Jack nodded. “We don’t have to shut our eyes here, ’cause with no windows, there’s no giant flash.”
From Kevin’s other side, Charlie cocked his head toward where the janitor stood in front of a closed door. “Man, I hate that creepy guy.” He told them how the janitor made him late for class.
“There’s definitely something off about him,” Jack said.
“It was like he was pushing the puke mop at me. I thought I was gonna lose my lunch.”
Kevin studied the man. “Looks like he’s guarding that door. What’s behind it?”
“We don’t know,” said Charlie. “Someone told us it’s a storage room.”
Jack added, “But we’re not sure. We’re only down here for air-raid drills. It looks suspicious. Why would a storeroom door be solid iron and and have no door handle?”
Mrs. Campbell, looking seriously irritated, hissed, “You three stop talking this instant!”
They immediately piped down. But a few minutes later, when her head was turned the other way, Kevin said under his breath, “Is she always such a dragon lady?”
“Mostly she’s nice, and, as teachers go, we all like her,” Jack said very quietly. “But air-raid drills get her upset.”
Mrs. Campbell, jumping up, headed right toward them.
Jack was sure they were in big trouble. But she passed them by and started yelling at Kerrigan for something he’d done. Today was not the day to push their luck. This time they stayed silent.
Once back in class, Mrs. Campbell began handing back their science tests.
As they looked at their scores, a collective groan came from the class.
“You should be ashamed of yourselves,” she said, glaring at them. “You not only failed to learn the new material, you even missed the extra-credit questions about Sputnik! I mean, come on! Four months after the Russians launch the first satellite into outer space, you can’t even remember enough to answer some simple questions?”
Jayla raised her hand. “Last week’s newsreel said President Eisenhower was completely taken by surprise when the Russians won the race to launch the first man-made moon. It said our scientists are way behind the Russian scientists.”
Mrs. Campbell’s expression turned even sourer. “Well, maybe that’s because our scientists are as bad at science as you children are. That’s probably why we’ve been forced to use old Nazi scientists on the project instead of American scientists.”
“So the Russians really are ahead of us?” Jayla asked, obviously concerned.
Mrs. Campbell began pacing back and forth in front of the blackboard, snapping a ruler into the palm of her hand. “Absolutely, they are! Two years ago America said we would launch a satellite by 1957 or 1958. But did we? We most certainly did not! Two years ago the Russians predicted they would conquer space long before any US man-made moon appeared. And did they? Yes, they did!”
“Who cares?” Kerrigan blurted out defensively. “What good is a hunk of metal in outer space when all it does is go beep, beep, beep?”
“That’s enough out of you, Ryan Kerrigan. One more smart remark and you go to the principal for a second day in a row.”
When Kerrigan glared back, his swollen black eye made him wince.
“Well, we will catch up. Won’t we?” Jayla said, concerned.
Mrs. Campbell snapped at her. “I find that highly unlikely. And especially if your generation has anything to do with it. Compared to Russian children, American children are lazy and incompetent. Instead of being willing to put real effort into math and science homework, all American children want to do is sit around playing board games. Counting out play money in Monopoly won’t get you anywhere. But Russian kids? They have the resourcefulness and determination to overcome any obstacle or barrier, no matter what it takes. American children couldn’t plan their way out of a paper bag.”
Jayla went speechless, her endless supply of questions dried up. But not Mrs. Campbell. She was just getting warmed up.
“Russian children aren’t over-privileged—the way you are. And they aren’t spoiled. After the war, many of them were left as orphans. All on their own, those kids had to walk halfway across Eastern Russia to hunt up whichever relatives they had left. You kids couldn’t even make it to that mountain on your own.” She pointed out the window in the direction of the Hohenstaufen, ten miles away.
Mrs. Campbell stayed a dragon the rest of the day. At the final bell, the boys escaped as fast as they could; even solitary confinement at home was better than any more time with her.
Jack turned to Charlie. “Don’t sweat having to write those hundred lines; I’ll help you on the bus.”
“Does she always give so much math homework?” moaned Kevin. “I knew when she yelled about Russian kids doing better at science and math that we’d spend the rest of the
day on math, and I was right. But did she have to pile on the homework? I don’t have a clue what she was even talking about. Why does anyone need fractions anyway? Jack, you help me with the math homework and I’ll help Charlie with the lines.”
Charlie wrote the sentence on multiple pieces of notebook paper. Sam and Kevin each took a couple and made a contest out of who could make their handwriting look most like Charlie’s.
Jack glanced up from Kevin’s math. Jayla’s contorted face glared at him.
“What?” he demanded.
“We have a lot more important things to do than writing ‘I will not be late from lunch’! We are going to get from here to the Hohenstaufen. And we’re going to do it all by ourselves. I don’t care how many obstacles we have to face, or barriers we have to get over.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Mrs. Campbell and her superhuman Russian children. We are going to prove we are just as good as Russian kids. Do you hear me, Jack McMasters?”
“Yeah. I hear you.” But, truth be known, he couldn’t make out if she was serious or just mad at their teacher. “Do you realize how far away that mountain is?”
He knew that was the wrong thing to say when she flipped around in her seat to stare out the dirty bus window.
Kevin wordlessly communicated to Jack, “What’s she so worked up about?” Aloud he said, “Mrs. Campbell was right about one thing. I love Monopoly. I wouldn’t even let the packers get their mitts on it; I brought it with me. Come over Saturday afternoon and play Monopoly in her honor.”
Jack nodded.
“Can’t say I’m any good at it,” Charlie said, “but I’m in.”
So began the longest Monopoly marathon in the history of Cooke Barracks. After lunch on Saturday, Jack called for Charlie at his quarters and they hoofed it up from The Glass House and around The Circle to the third duplex. Beside one of the doors was a stenciled sign: Col. Duncan.
BRAT and the Kids of Warriors Page 23
