Brutal

by Michael Harmon

  I almost hoped Mrs. Baird would take Anna aside to explain. Tell her in private, at least. Call it a moment of guilt or stupidity, but there were boundaries of evil I wasn't willing to cross, and Anna didn't deserve total and complete humiliation. As I entered the music building, I decided human empathy sucked. I was supposed to march in that room without an ounce of remorse and with a heaping plate of spite, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Easy to think, hard to do when it comes down to it. I thought of Theo saying she wasn't that bad, then thought about how I felt when things like that happened to me. The sinking pit of doom in my stomach. The urge to melt to the floor and ooze through the cracks.

  I almost didn't want to go in, but then I remembered: I was walking into a room to take the place of the lead vocalist for an award-winning choir based on nothing but talent.

  As I entered, groups and clusters of kids lounged around waiting for practice to begin. I recognized some from my classes, even got a few smiles and nods, but most I didn't know. Then I saw Anna Conrad. The glance she gave me didn't speak of anything. Neutral compared to the surprised distaste in the look of the three girls with her. I guessed they were the other soloists. The Elite Choir was called that for a reason, it seems.

  I set my bag down and took a seat, waiting. Six or eight stragglers came in after me, then Mrs. Baird walked in. She set a stack of files down and faced us. “Good morning, everybody. A gloomy day, but a good one to be inside and singing. Welcome.” She stepped forward, glancing at me before going on. “We have a new member and I'd like to introduce Poe Holly to you. My hope is that you'll welcome her with open arms and warmth. She's a fantastic singer, and one that will be a great addition to our group.” With that, she swept her arm to me.

  I didn't stand but nodded, and thank God above Mrs. Baird went on. “Everybody, please take your positions on the stage and we'll get started.” Students filed onto the stage. Tiered platforms arced around the stage in a slight curve, and I stayed put, not knowing where to go. My eyes fell on Anna and the three girls she'd been talking to. She and two of the girls stepped to a separate area in the center of the stage. The soloist positions. I stood, walking toward them.

  Mrs. Baird glanced at them, then cleared her throat. I slowed. She spoke as she pointed. “Poe, if you'd like to take your place to the left of Angela, we'll begin.”

  I looked at Mrs. Baird. “I don't know who …”

  “Angela, please raise your hand.”

  Angela raised her hand and smiled. From the second row of the main chorus singers. I faltered, staring at Mrs. Baird. She ignored me. The pit of doom in my stomach swooped in. My mouth went dry. The entire choir faced me, and I couldn't do anything. Every feeling I'd had about Anna Conrad came back to me. Now it was me, not her. I took my place.

  One hour of me being too chicken to walk out of the room later had me and the rest of the chorus packing up our bags to head for regular classes. Mrs. Baird called me aside as the others left. I stood in front of her, a picture of serenity and peace covering a nuclear holocaust ready to explode. I said nothing. Mrs. Baird blinked, then cleared her throat. “You're probably wondering …”

  “I'm not wondering.”

  She looked at me. “When I spoke to Anna Conrad's parents about placing you as the lead soloist, they…”

  “I said I'm not wondering.”

  She sighed. “Poe …”

  “What?”

  “I'm sorry.”

  I laughed, the sting of the knife in my back. “Sorry. Really? Gosh, let's throw a pity party for Poe because she got the shaft from a liar.”

  Her eye twitched, and she put her hand on her desk. “When I told you I could put you on as the lead soloist, I spoke out of turn. There are other things at play here, and I apologize for that. But there is no reason to be confrontational here, and there's no reason for name-calling.”

  I smiled wickedly. “I'm sorry, but I see a liar in front of me, and if you go look in a mirror, you will, too. Just calling it like I see it, Mrs. Baird. No politics involved, right? Just the truth.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “That's enough.”

  “Or what? You'll stab me in the back because Anna Conrad's parents pull your strings?” I rolled my eyes.

  She shook her head. “Anna's parents don't pull my strings.”

  “God, do you ever listen to yourself?”

  “Excuse me?”

  I laughed. “You sound like a complete idiot. Weak.” I turned and walked to the door, then turned back around, the anger spilling out. I raised my voice. “You and I both know the only reason I'm not in the soloist group is that once Anna's parents found out about it, they made calls.” I shook my head. “I bet you got all three soloists’ parents barking in your ear, huh? Then maybe the vice principal? Somebody from the district? Maybe they looked at my transcripts? My discipline report?”

  She said nothing but shuffled, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “That's what I thought. Can't have the trash front and center, now, can you? Talent my ass, lady. You suck.”

  A pained expression came to her face, and I could tell she was sincere with it. “Poe, I can't—”

  I interrupted her. “Can you answer one question for me, please?”

  She closed her mouth, stared at me, then nodded.

  “Do you enjoy being owned?” Then I turned and walked out.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Anna Conrad waited for me outside the choir room. She'd heard the whole thing. I didn't even want to look at her. I thought about the party where her dad had smiled and winked at me about getting in the chorus, and I knew that he'd known. The joke was on me. I walked past her. Her voice rang out. “I don't agree.”

  I stopped, turning around. “It would be a good thing to stay away from me.”

  She inhaled, then let the breath out. “I know what happened.”

  “Good for you. Maybe you could tell all your friends, too. I'm sure they'd get a kick out of it.”

  She shook her head. “I haven't told anybody.”

  I walked up to her. Velveeta flooded my mind. “Why'd you do it?”

  She furrowed her brow. “What?”

  “Velveeta. Why'd you write that letter?”

  She blinked, caught by surprise. “I didn't know….” She sighed. “I didn't know they were going to do that. I thought it was just fun. Just teasing him a little.”

  My hand swung in an arc, a flash of pale, and I slapped her. Hard. The sound echoed down the empty hall as she reeled and let out a squeal of pain. She came up with her hand on her face, defensive and waiting for me to attack. Blood seeped down her lip, and tears gathered in her eyes. As she licked the crimson from her mouth, a momentary flash of sickness went through me as I remembered Velveeta's battered face. But I stepped toward her, my eyes drilling hers. “Bitch.” Then I turned and walked away.

  Theo met me at my locker before first period, all smiles compared to the thunderclouds over my head. His grin faltered, and he stopped short. “What's wrong?”

  “Nothing. Bad day.” I grabbed my books and closed the locker.

  He walked with me. “Ready?”

  “For what? Armageddon?”

  He laughed. “Man, you are in a bad mood. What happened?”

  “Nothing. What should I be ready for?”

  “Trading ID cards. Remember?”

  The last thing I wanted to do was even be here, but I'd checked out the little black boxes placed everywhere, and I still didn't believe him. I took mine off. “Here.”

  We traded, and he put mine on. “We'll meet here after first period and trade back.”

  “What's going to happen?”

  “They'll call you to the office and ask why you were in the wrong place. No biggie, really.”

  First and second periods slogged by with nothing for me to do but think about choir, Mrs. Baird, slapping Anna Conrad, and what would happen because of it. Theo and I traded back our ID cards after first period, and just before class let out second per
iod, I got the call to the office like he said I would.

  As I walked in the administration building, Theo stood at the counter, smiling at me. Ms. Appleway sat behind the counter dutifully ignoring Theo. I joined him. “You were right.”

  He smiled. “Told ya.”

  Ms. Appleway looked up. “Okay, you two. What's going on?”

  Theo gave her a wide-eyed look of innocence. “Were all the sheep not in the pens, Ms. Appleway?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “No, they weren't, Mr. Dorr. And don't pull any of your funny stuff on me. Cough up your excuse and get to class.”

  He smiled. “Have I ever told you that I find older women incredibly attractive, Ms. Appleway? I simply wanted to be in your presence.”

  She smiled, a twinkle in her eye. “I've half a mind to put you across my knee with a paddle to your butt.”

  He sighed. “Okay, fine. Poe and I switched cards so I could prove to her that we're nothing more than inhuman bytes of information tracked by the evil big brother. She didn't believe me when I told her that we're heading toward a wonderful brave new world and that if a glitch in our productivity levels showed up, we would be sent here for social reconditioning.”

  She looked to the counter, writing out passes. “That I won't argue, Mr. Dorr, but perhaps you should think twice about getting your friend here in trouble to prove a point. I'll be speaking to both your parents this afternoon.”

  Theo took his pass when she handed it to him. “Trouble is the only trait that separates us from the milky-eyed masses, Ms. Appleway I cannot give up my humanity quite yet. At least not until KISS does another reunion tour. I missed the first one.”

  “Go away revolutionary upstart.” She looked at me. “You do know what you're getting yourself into with this boy right?”

  I nodded, smiling as I took my pass. “I've been warned.”

  Theo and I walked to third hour current affairs, and when we came in, Mr. Halvorson, chief executive president and dictator of the Equality Club, gave us a smirk when we handed him our passes. “Take your seats.”

  We did, and then listened to a thirty-minute monologue on the important economic relationships we had with several Middle Eastern countries, with Mr. Halvorson blithely leaving out the fact that it was still okay in most places to stone women to death for being women. When I brought up the fact that women had less standing than lizards in some of our “partner” cultures, he dutifully told the class that it's not our place to judge, it's our place to respect diversity.

  He didn't like it when I told him political correctness and oil prices mixed well and that female genital mutilation had always been something I'd like to explore.

  After class, Theo and I parted ways, and I headed for the gym. PE. Great. Another Poe defeat waiting to greet me with my shitty PE shirt. This day couldn't get any worse. In the locker room, I opened my bag and saw my choir gown, still in the plastic wrapper, stuffed at the bottom. I wouldn't be needing that anymore, I thought, ditching my boots and putting my sweats on. Then I stopped.

  A grin split my face as I stared at my pack. Fine. They wanted to play games, I'd play the game. Mrs. Baird and Vice Principal Avery could stuff it where the sun didn't shine. I took the gown from the wrapper, unfolded it, looked at the Benders High emblem on it, then put it on.

  Several girls walked by, staring at me standing in the gym locker room wearing a choir gown, and I couldn't care less. I couldn't care less about anybody in this stinking place. I stowed my stuff in my locker and walked into the gym. Just as I entered, Coach Policheck blew her whistle for us to line up. Everybody stared at me, and laughter rose. I took my place in line.

  Coach Policheck looked at me, shook her head, then trudged over. “One chance, Poe. Change it or go to the office immediately.”

  I stood silent.

  She pointed to the doors. “Go.”

  I left.

  I wore my gown to the office. Ms. Appleway smiled. “Twice in one day, Poe. Mr. Avery is waiting.”

  I walked into his office, and he sat behind his desk, the huge girth of his belly touching the edge of the wood surface. He glanced at me, then down at my file, then motioned for me to take a seat. I did. He looked up, sighed, then deflated, leaning his elbows on the desk. “Well, Ms. Holly, I don't know what to do with you.”

  I stared at him, sick of everything. “Maybe you should find somebody that does.”

  He looked at my choir gown. “You know this is ridiculous.”

  “No, it's not.”

  His face hardened. “You cannot wear your choir gown to PE. We talked about this last week.”

  “You told me that as long as you had an official Benders High uniform, you had a choice. It's a uniform with the insignia. I'm following your rules.”

  “You cannot wear it.” With that, he picked up his phone and punched an extension. “Yes, David. Would you please come to my office? Your daughter is here. Yes, she is. Again.”

  Dad came in a moment later, looked at me, then took a seat. I turned to Mr. Avery “Cool, the lamp is here.”

  Confusion clouded Mr. Avery's face, but he let it pass. “David, Poe has decided to construe my words the other day as it being okay to wear her choir gown to PE.”

  Dad looked at me, then at Mr. Avery, taking a moment. “Construe?”

  “Yes. She's not being reasonable about this, and I can't stand for making a scene simply because she doesn't like the rules.”

  Dad shook his head. “I don't agree.”

  Mr. Avery blinked. “I'm sorry?”

  He glanced at me and a flicker of a smile, nervous and sad at the same time, came over his face. “You stipulated the rules the other day to Poe.”

  He scoffed. “David, come on. We can't have disorder like this. She's making a mockery of this school. She knows exactly what I was talking about last week. Sports uniforms. Not choir uniforms. She's causing trouble for the sake of trouble.”

  Dad coughed and took on a serious tone. “Poe is proving a point, and I agree with it. The policy is inherently unfair to the students who do not or cannot play sports,” he said, meeting Mr. Avery's stare with a shrug. “It gives some students a choice where other students have none, Steve, and it serves no practical purpose other than to create exactly what we supposedly stand against at this school. Favoritism and class-based discrimination. If choice is to be given, it should be given to the whole, not the part.”

  Mr. Avery flipped his pen on the desk, frustrated. “What would you have me do, then? Change the policy? We've always done it that way and it's never been a problem. It's trivial.”

  I rolled my eyes. “The only reason it's trivial is that you don't have to do it.”

  Mr. Avery stared at me. “Okay, if you were in my position, what would you do? Have everybody wear the same uniform, right?”

  “Get rid of the whole uniform rule in the first place.” I smirked. “Everybody knows who the special people are anyway, and I'm sure you can think of other ways to put us losers down.”

  He shook his head. “First of all, Poe, you are not a loser, and there are no ‘special people’ at this school. We're all equal here.”

  I laughed. “The choir and the football team are the prancing fairies of this rat hole.”

  He sat back again, at his wits’ end. “You are part of the choir! What more do you want?”

  I looked at him, the door wide open for Poe the Destructor to come barging through. “Yeah, the choir. You'd know all about that, huh, Mr. Avery?”

  Dad furrowed his brow. “What?”

  I smiled at Mr. Avery. “Nothing, Dad. I'm sure Mr. Avery has no idea that after Anna Conrad's parents complained, I was booted from the lead soloist's spot. I don't quite ‘fit’ into it as well as Anna. Right, Mr. Avery?”

  He blustered, and I knew he knew. How much he had to do with it was another subject, though. A dim lightbulb lit above his head. “I see this situation has to do with more than just PE.”

  “They're pretty much the same.”
/>   Dad frowned, interrupting. “What happened in choir?”

  “I won the lead solo spot, but Benders High School decided I shouldn't have it.”

  Mr. Avery shook his head. “No, no. That's not what happened. You missed tryouts, and the rule says you have to try out. When that was brought to Mrs. Baird's attention, she had to comply. There was no favoritism.”

  I stared at him like he was a dead fish. “Then why am I in the Elite Choir at all? You just said you have to try out. Even for a regular spot, right? Well, according to you, I shouldn't be in the choir at all.”

  “Well…”

  “Oh, I get it. Sometimes the rules apply and sometimes they don't. It just depends on who, right? Just like PE?”

  “No, that's not it.”

  I laughed, triumphant. “Yes, it is.”

  Mr. Avery looked at my dad. “She was given a spot in the Elite Choir without a tryout because Mrs. Baird felt responsible for misleading Poe about being a soloist. To give her a chance.”

  “I don't need a chance! I did try out and I'm better than Anna!”

  Dad spoke up. “I think you should answer my daughter's question, Steve. Then I think you should furnish a written copy of the rules for me.” Mr. Avery blinked at my dad, but he went on, “I'm here as a father, Steve, not as an employee of this school. I'm sure you understand that.”

  Mr. Avery took a moment, then nodded. “Very well. There are no written rules about tryouts, David, just as there are no written rules about the allowance of football jerseys in PE.”

  Dad nodded. “Then why was Poe ousted?”

  Mr. Avery cleared his throat, glancing at me before continuing. “Can we have a moment, David? I…”

  Dad looked at me. “I think if you've something to say, you should say it, Steve.”

  He nodded. “I'm afraid there were complaints when it was found out that Anna would be bumped, and the rules were questioned.”

  I smirked. “So you listen to some complaints but not others? Is that in the invisible rule book, too?”

  He glowered at me, so caught in his own words he couldn't get out. He took a sip of coffee, composing himself. “Poe, I think you should go back to class. I'm going to excuse today, just this one time, but you'll have to wear your uniform to PE from now on. And I expect your tone and attitude to improve, too. There's no need for nastiness. We can be civil.”