by G. Adler
“Louie? What are you doing in here? Couldn’t this wait until after the ceremony? The entire graduating class, along with their families and friends, are here right now!”
Oh shit. Think fast, Hayden.
I quickly reach down and grab the garbage can under the counter. Luckily, it is full to the brim with all kinds of foul-smelling crap. I mumble something completely unintelligible under my breath in a low, gravelly voice as I bring the stinking can between us. I make sure to keep my head down the entire time. Nozer steps back as the smell of rotting food hits him like a slap in the face.
“Oh… well I’m glad you got to this before it stunk up the room. Good job.” He then walks away to where he was standing before and turns his attention back to the ceremony.
That was a close call.
With one quick motion I glance at the screen, see that the download is complete, and pull my flash drive out of the computer. I click on the new file and delete the old one. I then cue up the new video. I carefully pry the button camera off my shirt and hide it in the booth, making sure that it is angled perfectly to catch all of the action the moment it starts. I throw the flash drive into the wet mop bucket once I leave the booth. I break my key off inside the lock once the door seals.
A wicked grin forms on my face. I check my phone, and sure enough everything is going as planned. All I have to do now is leave the auditorium, exit the back doors of the school, and celebrate my perfection. I can even sit back and watch events unfold over my phone!
I try to move my feet but they won’t budge. My face contorts into a mask of indecision. My legs try to move again but my feet are not convinced. I know I should leave but I just can’t. I planned this to the letter and it went off without a hitch. I have to watch this in the flesh. I need to see it happen. I earned this.
Instead of leaving the auditorium, I make my way to the back of the hall and embed myself into a shadowy corner. I fold my arms across my chest and let the wig fall over most of my face, hiding my eyes and facial expression.
Good thing too. I know what’s coming.
The Curling Team finally finishes showing off and exits down the far side of the stage. The egotistical morons even wave as they go, as if they are God’s gift to everything. It’s fucking curling for crying out loud! Their smiles are wide and confident, like nothing in the world could hurt them.
Perfect.
Jocks with rocks finally sit down and Lindt takes the podium once more.
“And now, parents and graduating students, I have the pleasure of introducing the graduation video. Our AV Club, Yearbook Club, and Student Council have worked tirelessly all year to get footage of everything that our seniors have been up to. Most of you only get to see one side of your child: what they are like at home. Tonight we hope to enlighten you with the other half. I hope you are all pleasantly surprised.”
The crowd starts to clap and I can’t help but join in. A plastic surgeon couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. The lights dim and I settle back to enjoy the show. Right on cue, the voice of Idina Menzel sounds over the speakers as the projector slides down from its hiding place in the ceiling. Most of the audience seems to be groaning about, “not the Frozen soundtrack again!” but that just makes me smile wider.
Flashes of light flicker along with the opening piano music, lulling the audience into a barely conscious daydream. The lyrics from Disney’s latest winter extravaganza plays over the speakers and everything looks normal as Idina Menzel’s voice sounds loud and clear.
The music blends right in as a series of pictures appear of graduates as they were on the first day of school. The parents “ooh” and “ah” at all the right spots and the seniors clap for one another like the popularity contest that it is.
I grimace in total disgust and fold my arms magnanimously across my chest. I smile and wait for the magic to begin.
The music continues but this time it shows the various senior sports teams abusing freshmen. It begins with the football team shoving them into lockers, pantsing them in the hallways, and pissing on their homework. There is even a shot of the girls’ volleyball team playing monkey in the middle with some screaming girl’s training bra.
These images are greeted with uproarious laughter from most of the senior boys, but given that most of their brains were concussed long ago, I’m hardly surprised. Ms. Lindt and the parents however seem less than amused. There are a few nervous murmurs coming from the crowd, especially from the few freshmen that are in the crowd. I shake my head and grip my broom handle to the point where I hear a creaking sound from the ancient wood.
They didn’t even have the decency to protect their own. I stiffen my back and look down my nose at each and every one of them.
The music begins its rise to the chorus and out comes the vomit. Footage from every party that I bugged and spied on appears on the screen. The prom queen is seen flashing her ample breasts while the captain of the football team snorts a white powder off her nipples. The curling team is shown projectile vomiting into the bulls-eyes while sweeping it around with their brooms. The captain of the football team raises a keg to a horned football helmet and punctures the side in a few spots. He then pours it into funnels that carry it into tubes that happen to be running to the entire debate team.
The crowd becomes angry and there are more than a few shouts coming from all over the auditorium. Cries to cut the feed echo from all over. Lindt’s face looks like she just drank from Princess’ urine stream. She runs over to the projection booth, but as luck would have it, there is something jammed in the lock preventing her from getting in.
Boo hoo.
Next comes the entire girls swim team as they pass around a lit joint while swimming topless in the head of the PTA’s pool. The boys’ football team arrives soon after, stripping down and jumping in for what seems like some pretty intense rescue breathing. Flash to the cheerleading squad watching the chemistry club cooking up crystal meth. Each of the science nerds has a Breaking Bad shirt on them, while the cheerleaders don’t seem to have much on at all.
My eyes go wide and I can’t help but laugh. I totally forgot about the Parent Council Treasurer doing the head of the Rotary club in his new Porsche. I smile in appreciation at the boob job this lady must have had along the way. She reaches orgasm and screams out a stream of obscenities that make me raise my hand over my mouth and gasp.
No wonder this group of seniors is so over-sexualized. Their philandering parents must have them so sexually repressed that they completely break lose the minute they get the chance!
Both husbands jump from their seats and find one another from across the room. They stare down one another like rabid dogs while their wives get ready to claw one another’s eyes out. Within seconds all four of them vault the distance between them and the games begin. Total pandemonium erupts in all corners of the auditorium. In the front row, the prom queen is getting dressed down by her parents… literally. Each of them tears a sleeve of her dress while screaming at her at breakneck volumes. I hear the words “slut” and “reputation” along with “mortified” and “shame” thrown around a fair bit. A few teachers get involved and I turn my attention elsewhere. I get comfy against the wall and watch the captain of the hockey team earn a five minute major as he fist fights with his father in the aisle. Something about downing his prized wine collection and making it look like a break in. Junior takes a swing at Dad, who ducks. Unfortunately he connects with Mom right on the button! She is out cold and down for the count in seconds.
I breathe a sigh of contentment and hum along with the music while a Wrestlemania Battle Royale ensues right in front of me. Dresses are torn off of girdled bodies. Perfectly coiffed hair is yanked and pulled while neckties become nooses. Fake nails and eyelashes go flying while graduation hats are flung like ninja stars at the nearest victim. Families who were perfectly fine seconds ago are now at one another’s throats. The Presiden
t of the Mock U.N. Council is drop-kicked by his girlfriend after she saw him exercising his constitutionally protected freedom of expression and association with the head of the law club.
Ouch, now that’s what I call a habeas corpus.
Ms. Lindt tries to get between the curling and baseball teams. I guess the guys on ice might be a bit upset after seeing the boys of summer getting in a little batting practice with their girlfriends. Bodies go flying across the seats while shrieking screams and tatters of fabric stream in the air. I shout, “Hurry… hurry…whoa!” as one of the guys slides across the floor and careens into the opposite wall. Unfortunately for Ms. Lindt, he slides right under her feet and knocks her flat on her ass. Her legs shoot up in the air in a big hurry, sending her feet slamming into the head of our star reliever. He lands, out cold with his face buried between Ms. Lindt’s splayed legs.
I hoped she remembered to wipe after her doggy demo earlier. Either way, home run, buddy.
The music and images continue for the duration of the song. The hazing rituals appear, including shots of the swim team being forced to wear their Speedos on their heads while their goggles are tightened around their testicles. The girls’ basketball team appears to be doing lay ups in garters, bras and high-heels and last but not least, the hockey team’s cookie circle jerk. The entire cooking club pukes as the last guy to orgasm is forced to eat the cookie his buddies just frosted.
Classic.
Next comes the wanton destruction of property. The baseball team walks down the street with baseball bats, making sure to hit a home run on every mailbox they find. The football team starts stacking phone booths one on top of another. The old lady stuck in the middle booth looks less than amused. Flash to the basement of one of the wealthier families at the school. We find the Chemistry and Physics Clubs shooting off fireworks attached to toy race cars. In the next shot are the smoldering ashes of the home from a few hours later.
I wonder what excuse the kid gave his parents? From the beating his father is giving him right now, I’m going to guess that it wasn’t the truth.
They say that everyone has skeletons in their closet.
If that’s true then the Queen of the Knitting Club must have a mausoleum. Her father passes out watching his wholesome little girl chug back a beer she is holding with her feet while her hands show their dexterity on two nine irons belonging to two guys on the golf team.
He should be proud. I know I’m impressed!
The captain of the Syncro team demonstrates her ability to do shots while playing beer pong with the head of the chess team. The High-IQ club works with the chemistry nerds to synthesize pure caffeine, which they share with the drama club.
Huh. I never knew you could do THAT in mime!
Screams and rants reach an orchestra-like crescendo and I close my eyes to enjoy the music of my mayhem.
That’s when the power goes out entirely. All the lights go black and the projector and speakers fall silent.
What the hell is going on? We haven’t even gotten to the homecoming dance footage yet!
Seconds later the lights turn back on and Louie is standing at the door. He rubs his balding head like a man who just woke up from a wicked nightmare.
“Yo… any you jokers see my hat?” he cries.
All eyes turn in my direction and I swallow hard. I check for an exit, but they are all blocked due to the riot that just took place. I have nowhere to go. Ms. Lindt rushes over to where I am standing. The welt on the side of her face has already begun to swell to the point where half of her face barely looks human.
Given the expression on the other half, I think I prefer this one.
Chapter 2 - DANE
Existence.
What does it mean to exist? Is it possible to think about existence without existing?
By definition, anything, be it organic or artificial, is made up of matter and is subject to gravitational forces.
The Law of Conservation of Mass states that matter is neither created nor destroyed, but rather, is undergoing continuous change.
Changed from something…into anything.
Rene Descartes, an old scientist, mathematician, and philosopher once said, “I think, therefore, I am.”
I am subject to gravitational forces.
I am made from matter.
I can reason, analyze, consider.
I can think.
But do I exist?
Chapter 3 - General Matthews
I grip the brim of my dress hat so tightly that my fingers leave impressions when I finally let go. I look to my left to see Hayden smirking as he stares down at his phone. I marvel at how much he resembles me at seventeen, from his lean and muscular build to his curly locks and everything in between. All except for the eyes, those beautiful grey eyes were bequeathed to him from his mother, a parting gift before she passed away giving birth to his younger sister. I grimace as I notice that his thumbs are moving as fast as his mouth usually does. His face is calm, cool and collected. My teeth clench even tighter and I snatch the phone out of his hand and send it flying against the wall. It shatters into pieces in a hail of plastic and glass. The school secretary jumps from her seat and gasps, holding her hand over her heart. I get out of my seat and collect the shattered remains before dumping them in the garbage beside her desk. I look at her and sigh.
“Sorry, Ms. Anderson. I’m sure you can appreciate the stress of this situation.”
She nods curtly and swallows hard before resuming her school attendance duties. I look over at Hayden and clench my teeth. His fingers continue to type as though the phone is still there. He exaggerates his index finger for a moment and says, “And sent. Wow, cyberspace is becoming more intangible by the moment.”
“Keep it up, big mouth. You’re talking yourself right into a barrack! You know, I should take you to a neurologist to have your brain analyzed for malformations.”
“I’m surprised that you haven’t already.”
“Who says that I didn’t?”
Hayden chooses to ignore my comment and glares at me angrily before speaking again.
“You owe me a new phone…you know that right?”
“You’ll get nothing.”
“Okay, just remember…you asked for it.”
I turn my body and stare at him in total shock. “Who the hell do you think you are? If I were to throw you into a platoon they would…”
“Here we go again! Is that your answer to everything, Dad? ‘My son won’t behave so let’s put him in the military. No college wants to fund my scientific research, so I’ll approach the military. I need a house to live in close to my lab, now who should I contact? I know! The military!’ I hope you end up with erectile dysfunction in your fifties. Now THAT is a Pentagon call I want to be in the room for!”
“That’s right, Private Motormouth. Keep it going. They love hardheaded punks like you. It makes the breaking-in process all the more enjoyable for the Sergeants.”
“General, let me make this abundantly clear, so even someone as old as you will understand it. I will NEVER enlist. You can take all of your medals and decorations and shove them where the tanks don’t roll. Your military is all about everything I despise, from secrets and subterfuge all the way to bullets and bombs. If you really gave a damn about people, you’d ditch the munitions and do away with the black ops crap. You are just another cog in a massive machine that is designed to strip Americans and other people around the world of their personal rights and freedoms. I for one…”
“Give it a rest, Mouthpiece. None of your little cronies or cyber fans are here to listen to your speech. It’s just me and if you will recall, I am immune to your garbage, so save it. I’m sure that your commanding officer will be more than happy to…”
“Spare me the military rhetoric, General.”
He folds his arms across his chest and plugs in his ear buds
. In true Eddie Murphy in 48 Hours fashion, he bellows at the top of his lungs, “ROXXXAAANNNEEEE. You don’t have to put on the red light. Those days are over; you don’t have to sell your body to the night.”
I may have to kill him after all. The secretary tries to be nondescript and closes the outer door, but that just makes Hayden’s expression even smugger.
I hold up the male end of his ear buds and raise one eyebrow. He feels the weight of my stare and opens his eyes. I point to the disconnected cord and wait. He simply shrugs his shoulders, waits a moment, and continues, “ROXXXAAAANNNNEEEEE. You don’t have to wear that dress tonight. Walk the streets for money; you don’t care if it’s wrong or if it’s right.”
“HAYDEN!” I cry and yank the wires out of his ears.
“Sir?” he says innocently as he flutters his eyelashes.
“What do you think you are doing?”
“Exercising my constitutionally protected freedom of speech, of course. I would have thought that you knew these things. If not, you should ask the military!”
I pull the wire taut between my hands and flash Hayden the angriest stare that I can think of. Right now, it is better than using what’s in my hands as a garrote.
“Stop glaring at me like that, Dad. The secretary is going to think I broke up with you or something. What’s your problem anyway?” Hayden says with utter sincerity carved like stone into his face.
“My problem? Are you serious, Boy? Do you have any idea how much damage you did?”
“Me? Absolutely zero! I didn’t lay a finger on anything or anyone.”
“But your actions led directly to…”
Hayden jumps up out of his seat with a fire in his eyes that I have not seen before.
“You mean my ALLEGED actions…right?”
At this point, all I can do is nod in agreement.
“Well, for the moment, why don’t we PRETEND that I am actually guilty. So I got caught. Big deal! I’m not the one who was lying his ass off to his parents all year! I’m not the one who hid the truth from his wife or husband. I’m not the kid who did drugs, drank and did all of that other shit! I didn’t abuse anyone smaller than me nor did I damage someone else’s stuff simply because I could.”
