by Cody Wagner
“So what are you going to do?” I asked her.
Cassie paced around a few more seconds and stopped.
“There’s only one thing I can do. I’ll help get Jimmy out, but, after that, I’ll have to stay behind.”
I gaped at her. “But you’re part of the reason we’re going!”
“Right. So I don’t want to be the reason everything gets ruined.”
I wanted to argue, but there was no point; Debate Cassie was here, jaw clenched and ready.
I grudgingly agreed, and we focused on how to handle the situation. After a quick discussion, we agreed not to tell anyone but Roze and Jimmy. What good would it do? I knew that, unless the plan was ruined by a teacher, everyone would push forward. A vague text from someone’s dad wasn’t going to stop anyone, except Cassie. I really felt sorry for her, though. By the time we headed out at 4:00 AM to meet Roze, she was in tears.
“What’s wrong?” Roze asked.
I explained everything to her as we made our way to the fields.
“What? You have to come,” Roze said.
Once Debate Cassie emerged and laid out the facts (she even pointed out she could help run interference if we didn’t get back before Tanner noticed), Roze agreed it was our only choice. Still, she was as unhappy about it as me.
When we reached the sheds near the farm, I shoved the negative thoughts out of my head; the last thing I needed was to get distracted and make a mistake. Gripping the metal handle of the shed Cassie chose, we worked to slide open the rusty door. It took forever, because we stopped every time the hinges squeaked and frantically looked around.
After five grueling minutes, the door opened enough for us to get in and grab the ladder. The thing was huge! I shouldn’t have been surprised, given it could reach a third story window. However, I suddenly realized how visible we’d be running across campus. Anyone looking out their window couldn’t miss three kids struggling with giant metal stilts.
Taking a calming breath, I grabbed the back end while Roze took the front and Cassie stood in the middle. We heaved it up and began our trek to the Admissions building.
We made it as far as the shed door before Roze banged it against the wall.
A metallic echo reverberated all around us and all three of us shut our eyes as if it might help. Although I knew it wasn’t her fault—the ladder was rickety and unwieldy—I uttered a long, “Shhhhhh,” which earned me an evil glare.
When everything went quiet, we set down the ladder and peeked outside. No one stirred, and we continued our mission. Miraculously, we didn’t have any other incidents before arriving at the Admissions building.
Crossing my fingers, I looked up to see Jimmy with his nose pressed against the glass, making faces. “Thank you,” I whispered, thinking back to two nights before, when Jimmy fell asleep during a practice run. After throwing a few rocks (causing a light to turn on next door), we bolted and griped at him the next day.
As Roze unhooked the metal latch keeping the ladder collapsed, Jimmy pulled open his window. He leaned out and watched as we hefted the ladder upright. It was insanely rickety, like trying to make water stand up. My arms shook with the effort. Together, we began pushing it up the wall.
When the ladder passed the second story window, Cassie lost control. She yelped as it banged into the brick. All of us froze. I actually dropped to the ground, like it would do any good. We didn’t breathe for what felt like minutes, but no lights came on or anything.
Heart pounding, I stood up and looked around. No one had heard; thank God it was the middle of the night. With no one coming out to scream at us, we went back to work, and managed to raise the ladder the rest of the way to Jimmy’s window.
We took a second to breathe, then nodded at Jimmy, who turned around and stuck a leg out. It wriggled around like a worm until finding the top rung. He pressed against it, making sure it was secure, then added his other leg. I had to admit, it was pretty gutsy of him to do this. I hated heights, and figured my body would shut down standing at the top of a three-story ladder. It didn’t seem to bother Jimmy. In fact, he grinned wildly as he climbed down.
When he was three rungs from the bottom, he dropped to the ground with a thud.
“I wanna do that again,” he said.
I looked up at the wobbly ladder and, already dizzy from vertigo, told him he was crazy.
As quietly as possible, we walked the ladder away from the wall, collapsed it, and carried it back to the shed. Success.
Once the shed door closed, Cassie nodded solemnly and bid us good luck. Jimmy deflated as we explained she wasn’t going. He got upset, but Cassie became even more so. She pulled him into a hug, tears brimming in her eyes. Roze and I glanced at each other and faked a giant hug. Without so much as a sideways glance, Cassie turned away and walked slowly to her room. Although we were trying to keep the mood light, I didn’t envy the phone call she was about to have to make.
Because of getting up so early to help Jimmy, we were the first to arrive at the east side of the gym. Luke chose that location because it faced away from the rest of the campus. I had a vague worry about Coach Adkins, as he popped up at the most random times, but it was a risk we had to take.
Standing there, alone, for fifteen minutes, all the adrenaline fled my body. Even thoughts of Adkins coming around the corner—screaming—couldn’t keep me awake. My eyelids grew impossibly droopy and I did that thing where my head jerked up and down from trying to stay awake. Then I crashed.
The next thing I knew, it was 6:30, and Roze poked me in the chest. I gasped awake and saw tiny bits of light off in the horizon. I looked around, confused and groggy. People surrounded us. A lot of people.
I flew up, rubbed away an eye booger, and scanned the crowd. Apparently, we were getting a send off by a bunch of the student body. Some brought cookies and snacks for us, while others held replicas of our signs. Most wished us luck, but a few expressed jealousy (“Take me with you!”). I admit it felt kind of cool, like we were celebrities. Roze faked a snotty accent while pulling a donut out of a box (“Thanks, dahling. I’m utterly famished.”).
By 7:00, the gathering was so large, a group of us had to walk around shushing everyone. I assumed most of the staff would be standing around their windows with coffee. Luckily, Jimmy usually slept in on Saturdays and Tanner wouldn’t realize he was gone for a few hours. At least that’s what I’d hoped. Still, I was a bit nervous and very ready to leave. Every time a person rounded the corner, I jumped, thinking it was Adkins or Wolcott.
Finally, Luke, Darrin, and the last of the group showed up. Luke’s teeth were clenched in anger, and we found out he’d set his alarm for PM instead of AM. He grew madder when he saw the audience. Making his way around, he pushed people away, telling them how they could ruin our mission. I noticed how much more effective he was than us. I guess being older and popular gives you a certain amount of sway.
Fifteen minutes later, it was time, and the group of thirty-two students made its way through the trees and headed for the bus station in Forreston. We walked away from the road in small groups so we wouldn’t draw attention. Every one of us crouched as we ran. Very covert.
I thought back to the morning I tailed Jimmy, and this was better. At least in a way. It was way more exciting, but the repercussions of getting caught were so much worse. At one point, as we rounded some trees, I noticed Roze had the same half-pumped, half-worried expression as me.
Jimmy, on the other hand, didn’t seem nervous at all. He actually made Mission Impossible noises as we darted through small clearings or when cars drove by (even if they were completely out of sight). Freed from Tanner, he took full advantage of letting his goofy side out.
By the time we reached the bus station, everyone hopped around excitedly. We didn’t blend in at all with the dumpy building, complete with a smattering of old people standing around. One elderly lady leered over a giant cardboard box smothered in duct tape. And by smothered, I mean every single inch was covered.
A member of Luke and Darrin’s group questioned her about it. He was clearly making fun, but she enjoyed it, talking about protecting her clothes at all costs. A couple students gave him mean looks for being so chatty, but we weren’t worried about concealment anymore. To these people, we looked like any other school group. I suddenly wondered if we should have worn matching t-shirts. We could have put together something funny.
When the last group arrived, Darrin handed out the bus tickets. I didn’t have any cash (and couldn’t have explained it to my parents, anyway), so he had to purchase mine. He didn’t look at me any different, but a small fear lurched through my stomach. Would the next Blazing Trails picture me with a beggar’s cup? I didn’t think so—Luke and Darrin seemed to be separating this from our actions at school. It seemed hypocritical and I wanted to hate them, but I had to give them credit for putting all this together. Even Roze wasn’t giving them her trademark glares anymore.
The bus to Little Rock was scheduled to leave at 10:30 and, around 10:00, a bus pulled into the station. Everyone exchanged glances as Jimmy, Roze, and I moved to a corner and ran through the plan.
We weren’t going to leave each others’ sides the entire protest. And we came up with a bird call (“CA-CAAAW!”) in case one of us needed help. It wasn’t necessary, but provided us some fun, especially when Jimmy practiced. He squawked nasally, like a bird with the flu. He also unconsciously flapped his arms. Roze and I looked at each other, grinning, but didn’t tell him. I think we both hoped he would do that in front of people.
Our plan set, we walked around and helped make sure the signs and balloons remained secured and intact. Once everything was accounted for, everyone gathered by the door and waited to board. The ticket taker squinted at us, as if trying to remember what event was going on this weekend. He didn’t ask any questions, though, as we handed him our tickets and piled onto the bus.
Although it was a public bus full of old people, everyone still tried to be “cool” and take the last rows of seats. I knew, from an unpleasant experience traveling to Arizona, the back of the bus smelled like a giant dump. However, not wanting to be left out, I made my way to a gaudy blue seat near the last row. Roze plopped down next to me, while Jimmy sat across from us, leaning into the aisle, causing students to have to walk around him.
When the bus lurched forward, we all cheered, and the trek turned into a typical high school road trip. We sang TV songs and told jokes and stories. The mission gave us a bond that brought us together, at least for the day.
I’m sure everyone else hated us (the bus driver shushed our group over and over) but we didn’t care. I also realized it was the first time I’d been off campus in like eight months. I didn’t miss the outside world, but it felt liberating being outside.
Twenty-One
Infiltration
As we approached Little Rock, our moods all changed. The singing stopped and people stared absently out windows. Jimmy, Roze, and I took turns looking at each other without speaking.
Darrin used the silence to go through our plans again. No one objected, and we leaned forward like football players in a giant huddle. At one point, the woman with the weird cardboard box tried to get by to go to the bathroom. None of us wanted to move; it was like we were tied together with rope. She finally had to climb over us, telling random stories of her childhood the whole way.
Soon, the countryside became more and more urban. Houses sprung up like they were doing the wave. My knee started jumping in my seat. I tried telling myself this was no big deal, but I worried I would somehow ruin everything. I pictured myself inadvertently stepping in front of a camera and giving a nervous interview where my mouth diarrhea ruined the school. That was totally something I’d do, and my stomach churned. It was stupid, but I looked for hidden cameras situated between houses.
The bus station sat right next to downtown, and everyone exchanged glaces as we pulled in and parked. A river spanned by a metal bridge and groups of trees separated us from a smattering of taller buildings. As we piled off the bus, most of us stared across the water. Four or five buildings were about the same size, while another jutted up a bit higher (I found myself humming, “One of these things is not like the other”).
I joined the group and we grabbed our luggage and packages. The signs felt tons heavier as we lugged them through the station and outside. When everyone gathered together next to the bus station, Luke pointed downtown.
“There’s where the protest is being held. We’re going to stop a couple blocks from the rally and unpack. It’ll be crowded, so if you don’t know where you’re going, make sure to keep up. If you get lost, we’re leaving you behind, and you’ll have to meet us at the bus station later.”
With that, we began walking, and, within a half hour, we crossed the bridge and downtown swallowed us up.
Students gawked at the buildings that loomed around us. It wasn’t like New York or anything, but Little Rock was sure bigger than downtown Pamata, whose tallest building was five stories. I had nightmares of being lost in downtown Amarillo. This wasn’t any better, and I kept stepping on Roze’s heels trying to keep up (“One more time and I’m pushing you into a manhole!” she yelled).
After zigzagging down several blocks, Luke slowed. Ahead of us, a wooden barricade blocked the road. On the other side, we saw an explosion of people. From where we were, it was hard to make everything out, but I knew they weren’t part of Zimmerman’s Zealots. These people carried rainbow flags and huge groups held hands. Above the road noise, we could hear laughter and singing.
These people were with the gay pride rally.
Some of us wanted to break free and join them. One guy waved his arms like he was holding a flag. Roze craned her neck so hard trying to watch them, I thought she was going to slip a disc.
Luke, on the other hand, ignored them and ducked into a thin street. We followed him down another block and pulled into a small, empty gap. He obviously knew the city because he led us to a surprisingly secluded square.
The second everyone was gathered, the frenzy started. Students tore bags open and hauled signs out. I grabbed my duffel and filled it with balloons then handed it to a guy next to me. Within ten minutes, the supplies had been doled out.
Testing a sign, I raised it up into the wind and spun it around. Luckily, we had thought to put coverings on both sides, so no messages were visible. That way, we wouldn’t expose anything until we’d found Zimmerman’s Zealots. For now, we were neutral parties, like walking Switzerlands.
”Guys, this is it,” Luke said. “If you want to back out, now’s the time.” He stared down the line at each of us, his face mentally projecting, If one of you ruins this, your life will be hell.
No one stirred, although I’m sure a few people wanted to throw up. Curious, I looked at Jimmy. He barely paid attention, caught up in a struggle with his sign. The one he’d grabbed was so big, it practically covered his squatty body, and he couldn’t even see over the top. Thinking, Typical Jimmy, I turned to Roze, who gave her own sign a small shake. After bonking her on the head with mine (pretending it was an accident), we walked to the rally.
As we made our way to the street, Luke peered around the corner. He motioned us forward, and we joined a small group of people, Trying to match their strides (like they were gonna kick us out if we weren’t in unison), we walked down a few blocks, and entered the blockade.
The second everyone was inside, we froze. Gay people and supporters smothered downtown. I observed groups hugging, holding colorful signs, singing, and dancing. Booths had been set up everywhere, selling food and drinks. Smells of turkey legs hit us and a few people moaned with jealousy. There was an energy to the air I’d never felt before.
It was amazing, but I couldn’t bring myself to smile or enjoy it. Although Sanctuary Prep Academy was a part of this group, today we joined the haters. Sure, we were going to sabotage them, but I felt embarrassed. These people would think we were a part of Zimmerman’s Zealots and
I hated that. I didn’t like coming across as the bad guy. Yes, we were trying to do good, which should have outweighed what we looked like, but I cared.
I turned to Luke and Darrin, thinking, If anyone cares about appearance, it’s them. Darrin kept double-checking the zipper on his bag. Luke held his head high and kept his face stony. These past couple weeks, it had been hard to hate the guy. I guess, in the real world, no one’s perfectly evil.
As we pressed on down the street and around a corner, the energy changed. I hadn’t seen a Zealot yet but the air suddenly smelled more hostile. The shouting and singing lessened. I felt compressed and tense, as if the happiness died and rotted like roadkill.
“There they are,” Roze hissed.
My breath caught in my chest as I followed her gaze.
A row of saw horses had been setup a half-block ahead. Behind them, people dressed in camouflage and weird vests loitered around.
Zimmerman’s Zealots were right in front of us.
The instant I saw them, I grabbed our masks and pulled Jimmy’s over his head. Yanking on my own, I turned and watched him. His eyes were darting back and forth, registering something we couldn’t see. I nodded to myself; it was working. Jimmy must have seen that some of the Zealots were under control. Goosebumps rose on my arms as I looked around.
This time, the members weren’t singing or dancing. Based on how they glared at the pride rally—steam practically shooting from their ears—they wished the entire city would blow up.
Their signs were nastier than ever, and I wondered if ours might not be severe enough. I looked at Roze for support. Her face was pure terror. I grabbed my chest, realizing that because she was black, these people might hate her even more. The thought hadn’t occurred to me and my heart smashed into my lungs.
Without thinking, I edged in front of her like a bodyguard. She sensed me trying to protect her and pushed away. Her face grew resolute as if to say, I can handle these idiots.
I gave her a small smile and, together, the Sanctuary students entered the snake pit.
