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Emerging Leader s Guide to Leading Authentically in Today s Workplace Bill George
https://ebookmeta.com/product/true-north-fieldbook-emerging- leader-edition-the-emerging-leader-s-guide-to-leading- authentically-in-today-s-workplace-bill-george/ True North
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. For all those who love this country, as much as you love your vibrator. Contents
1. We the People
2. Of the United States
3. In Order to Form 4. A More Perfect Union 5. Establish Justice 6. Ensure Domestic Tranquility 7. Provide for the Common Defense 8. Promote the General Welfare 9. And Secure the blessings of Liberty
10. To Ourselves 11. And our Posterity 12. Do Ordain 13. And Establish 14. This Constiution 15. For the 16. United 17. States 18. Of America Epilogue made it through the scanner. I No one noticed. Thank god, I know that if I ever get caught I will die. “Enjoy your day at the West Quadrant Mall Sarah.” The guard says to me as I take the first step into the mall and finally feel like I can breathe again. Ever since they closed down the businesses and forced all of the stores to open in the abandoned malls throughout the country, so the Authority could better control and monitor us, the harder it is to get supplies. This is my first run in three months. If it wasn’t completely necessary I would never have risked it. I pull out my list, first up are shoes. I need both hiking boots and tennis shoes in case I have to run. I remember when I loved shopping for all the new trends, but now I shop for survival and the worst-case scenario, although I don’t see how it can get much worse. With my mind back at ease, I stroll into the shoe store. “Can I help you find anything?” My head whips around and I am face to face with a small, cute girl who can’t be more than eighteen. “No thanks, I’m just looking for some shoes.” “They are in the back of the store, my name is Alice, just ask if you have any questions!” she exclaims in a much too peppy voice for me. She turns and prances her way to the next customer who is coming through the door. I walk to the back of the store and find the boots first. Size seven, waterproof, that is all that is left. I grab them. I will have to wear two pairs of socks but it’s fine. Next, sneakers. I scour the shelves and finally find a pair of size six in the back, they are white and not ideal for what I need but I will make due. I walk up to the register and my heart begins to race. Another scan. I hold out my arm as the young girl picks up the scanner and holds it over my tattoo. No one questions the tattoo. In the beginning, I was hesitant to get it. I thought the Authority would figure it out. Why so many of us were all getting tattoos on our forearms, but this one simple piece of body art has been overlooked by the Authority and in all their arrogance they have yet to realize that we had found a way around the scanners. Finally, I hear the sweet ‘ding’ of the scanner and I’m in the clear. She announces the total to me and hands me my receipt. There is no more paper money, the Authority got rid of that a while ago and switched our country to a centralized digital banking system. When they activated the antitoxin and the microchips in them, everything about us was uploaded into a database. All our personal information including banking info, medical records, family history, everything. That was the hardest part for the hackers of the hunted, developing chips that had all that information on them.
I grab my bag and turn to leave, just wanting to get this trip over with. As I exit the store I glance around, no one seems to notice me and I breathe a sigh of relief. I pull out my list again and decide to get the biggest part of my trip over with; the food. Every item planned to stretch the farthest, so as not to have to make this journey again any time soon. I head over to the grocery store and as I am walking I tell myself to calm down, I made it in, I’ve been scanned twice, and I’m in the clear. As with all clothing and electronic stores, houseware, and tool shops, even the grocery stores have been moved to the malls. They are not, however, any type of grocery store you would recognize. Once the authority began opening malls, they needed to figure out a way to get grocery stores into them. Once they controlled the food they had ultimate control over the people. They decided to build massive distribution centers. These centers are ninety percent automated and require very few employees, thus reducing the risk of theft and giving them total and complete control over us. Now when you walk into the store you are scanned and handed a handheld device. They call these G.O.D.S. (Groceries on Demand Scanners) the irony is not lost on me that the Authority created a way to control the food and they dared to name the device we use to get food: G.O.D.S. I walk into the store and catch myself shaking as the scanner is waved over my arm, ‘ding’ and with that sound, I feel myself let out a breath I didn’t realize I have been holding. I move a few steps forward and look up and a feeling of sadness washes over me. What used to be shelves and shelves full of products, of delicious fruits and vegetables that you could pick up and hold, smell and touch have been replaced with pictures. Walls and walls of photos with bar codes under each one. There are no more brands, simply the names of items and a general picture. I lift my G.O.D.S. to the first item on my list and scan it. I remember when I was younger going to the grocery store with my parents. I sat in the metal cart with my feet swinging back and forth. My dad was pushing the cart and making me laugh, and my mom, walking a few steps ahead of us, was referring to her list. On this one grocery shopping trip, I remember my parents arguing over a brand of mayonnaise. My dad couldn’t understand why my mom had to have a specific brand when the other was on sale. That memory of my parents, who laughed at that trip and an argument over mayonnaise for years, starts to make my eyes tear up. I quickly snap back to reality. I glance up at the wall. I see a photo of mayonnaise and it is a white jar with bold back lettering ‘MAYONNAISE’. I bring my G.O.D.S. up and scan the barcode. I continue to walk around making sure to get everything on the list. Once I add the last item; milk, I am done and I begin my way to the register. I wait for that blissful ‘ding’ and after I hear it, I quickly make my way out of the store. I know that by the time I get home my order will be at my doorstep. Once out of the store, I make my way to the pavilion. People are sitting around enjoying their day. Kids are playing with the toys, shoppers are happily walking in and out of stores like they don’t have a care in the world. These people are known as ‘the believers’ when the virus first hit the country they were the ones who were the first to follow all the directives and rules without hesitation. They never questioned the reasoning or agenda. They complied with every demand. Some even gained a sense of empowerment and began criticizing and belittling others for questioning any of the new rules. Sometimes I am envious of them. They have no worries, they look happy, oblivious, and living essentially as they did before. But I wonder if they feel nothing. Living their blissful lives do they believe they are the good? Has society changed so much in the last five years that they don’t even realize their lives don’t belong to them? That total and complete control of everything has been taken over by the Authority? I shake my head, I need to keep moving. I have one more stop before I can go, so I make my way down the corridor to a shop that sells clothing and I make my way to find a lightweight jacket. Summer is here, but in the Pacific Northwest, nights get chilly, even in summer. I make my way through the store looking at all the clothing and trying to blend in as I browse. I finally find the jackets and I comb through the rack until I find one I think may work. I set my bags down and put my arms through the sleeves and shrug the jacket up on my shoulders. As I turn to look into the mirror I am blindsided by my reflection. I look in the mirror at home but I guess in the monotony of daily life I failed to see the changes. In these bright lights, I can see the stress and how it has affected my body. My face is thin, my jeans are hanging off my hips where they used to be snug. But the thing I notice the most are my eyes. They look hollow, and empty, with no glimmer of life at all. I snap myself out of this self-loathing and concentrate on the jacket, yes it will do. I pull it off and bend down to pick up my bags. I head to the register where a nice-looking man greets me with a warm smile. “Did you find everything you were looking for?” he asks. “Yes, thank you,” I reply as I feel the anxiety rise within me. I wonder if he sees the fear inside me? I feel like everyone can. I stretch out my arm waiting for the final scan I need to make it through this day. He waves the scanner over my arm, but nothing happens. He gives me a slight grin and tries again… nothing. He checks the scanner, and all is good. Then on his last attempt, my worst fear comes true as the scanner passes over the tattoo on my arm and I notice it, the spot where I glued the chip on this morning is empty. Panic starts to rise throughout my body. My heart is pounding so loud that I think everyone around me can hear it. My palms begin to sweat, I feel drips of moisture beading down my back, I have to get out of here. I let out a chuckle. “Silly me, I already have this one.” I can hear the crack in my voice as the words leave my lips. I set the jacket down hoping that this kind stranger will let the situation go. I grab my bags and make my way to the entrance. As soon as my feet clear the threshold I glance back at the man in the store, he has picked up the phone. Shit. I turn and get my bearings, where the hell am I? I start to run through every bad scenario in my head. Trying to remember the floor plan of the mall and devise the fastest way back to my car. As I start walking, every muscle in my body wants to run to drop everything and just get the hell out of here, back to the safety of my apartment, but I know that any attention I bring will be bad. With one failed scan I would be sent to the camps, and no one ever comes back from those camps.
I fucking hate this place.
I glance at my watch for the hundredth time. “They got five minutes or I swear we will leave their asses this time.” “Damn North, chill. They’re probably just making out again and lost track of time, they’ll be here.” This is the last supply run in this quadrant, we plan to head to the cabin. All of our gear is loaded into the rigs which we hid in the outskirts. We may have jacked a couple of cars for this last run, but it was necessary. I hate being this on edge. I would like just for one damn minute to kick back with a cold beer and relax. Liv and Owen should almost be done shopping. The address to which the food will be delivered is a safe house, Crew is there waiting and will load it up and meet us at the rendezvous point. Everything is going according to plan. I finally see them walking towards us, Conrad’s arm draped around Luna’s shoulder, I am glad they get to have some sense of normalcy in their lives. The rest of us do what we can to protect them, but they have already seen and been through so much in their young lives. “Let’s roll, we’ll meet up with Liv and Owen outside,” I order. “North, hold up!” I turn around to see Lenox stomping up to me. “What?” I grumble. “Any chance we can swing by that outdoor store? I may have forgotten the machete.” “Damn it, Lenox, make it quick we gotta go. We will meet you over by the side doors.” I point to the blue square on the map plastered to the wall. Lenox is a great fighter but not the sharpest guy I know. “See ya in ten.” Lenox stomps away not in a tantrum way, it’s just the way a 6‘7“ guy walks. I see a couple of people turn and shutter as he walks by and they should, he could kill them if he wanted. Little did they know he’s one of the nicest guys on the planet; if you’re on his good side that is. I look over towards the two young lovebirds and shout, “Conrad, Luna, let’s go!” I turn to check if I can see any guards. We always get looks on these runs. We kinda stick out with the tattoos and Lenox’s big ass and usually Liv’s big mouth. The coast is clear. We start to walk to our meeting point with Lenox. “North?” I turn around to see sweet Luna and those big brown eyes, I swear she was a little puppy in a former life. “Yes, Luna?” I say in a sarcastically sweet tone. “I’m gonna hit the ladies’ room, be right back!” Before I can say anything she and Conrad turn and dart off. These people are gonna kill me, I think to myself. Fuck it, I walk over to the bench and have a seat. Damn it feels good to sit for a minute. I know I’m stressing out for no reason, we’ve all been scanned, and we are in the clear, this is not our first supply run. It will be fine. I am freaking out. He called them, he really did. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe the phone just happened to ring at the exact second I was leaving the store, and it was just someone asking a question. Damn it, Sarah, he called. I give myself a second to stop and casually turn around. It is not obvious to anyone but me, but I look through the crowds of people until I see him. That warm smile has turned into a scowl, he knows about me, I see him looking up and down the corridor for me, the phone still pressed to the side of his head. Then I see the guard. His block-like body saunters up to the man, dressed in head-to-toe steel gray. They all look the same like military men chiseled from concrete. I turn slowly and try to see if anyone near me notices. Of course not, it’s all in my head but the feeling of flight is rising through my body. I start walking, I notice a door to my right. The sign says ‘for employee use only’ I know there may be an alarm but if I don’t try I know they will find me before I can get to the exit, a single woman is a rare sight these days. I hold my breath and push against the bar, ‘click’. I wait, no alarms, thank god. I push the door just a crack. I can feel the cold air rush over me. I push further and slide into the unknown, there could be guards back here, didn’t think about that. Great job Sarah, I think to myself. Maybe there will be twenty guards back here eating lunch or playing poker. Too late, I make my way through and grab the metal handle and pull the tension tight, not letting the door slam. With a gentle ‘click,’ it shuts. I turn to scan my new surroundings. All clear. Now I really have no clue where I am or how the hell I am going to get to my car. I know that by now the man from the clothing store has told the guards they are probably heading to look over the security footage and within a few minutes, all of them will know my face, and all of them will be looking for me.
I have been in tight situations before, like the time I sold my parent’s house. It was right after the Authority took full control. In the past people bought and sold houses regularly, now you must get approval to move quadrants which of course includes scanning and questions. I knew after they died I could not keep up all the chores by myself and with the money from the sale I could pay off all of my student loans, get enough supplies for months at a time and be able to pay for an apartment for as long as I needed. I didn’t want my name tied to anything; it was one last thing the Authority could take. So on the day of the sale, a member of the Authority was there to watch the hand-off and signing of papers. I was terrified that somehow they would find out and I would be sent to the camps.
The hallway is dimly lit and as I fumble my way, keeping my hand against the wall, I look right and see no one. I was heading North when I came in and I know these hallways wrap around the back of each store connecting them for employees and deliveries, so I turn left and keep walking. I think I’m behind the hardware store now. I see boxes with labels like rope, hammers, and tape. The door to the back of their store is closed. I up my pace, but then I spot someone, shit. From here it does not look like a guard. I slow down but keep my head on a swivel. As I approach the person her head turns up and looks at me. “Hey,” she says nonchalantly. “Hey,” I say back. I continue to move. I take a second to look over my shoulder. She is still there with her head buried in her magazine. She must be on her break. I continue and within a few steps, I think I see the end of the hall which means I will be back in the mall in no time. If my calculations are correct as soon as I hit the corridor I should be able to turn left and run straight across to the exit. If the guards don’t know about me yet I should be able to just walk right past them, if they do I’m screwed and my only hope is to outrun them. I dig around in my purse for my keys. If I have to run I need to get in my car fast. I know they will find me but I will not go down without a fight. I check my watch, ten minutes, time to go. I stand up and look for Lenox, he shouldn’t be that hard to find, he looks like a mountain. I begin to walk towards the outdoor store and then I spot him. “Lenox” I shout. I see him scan the corridor and with a slight nod of his head I know he sees me. He walks over “You get it man?” “Yep, let’s go, Hey where did the kids run off to this time?” “Bathroom. Those damn puppy dog eyes got me again.” We both chuckle knowing that Luna has us tied around her little finger. She is like a little sister that drives you absolutely crazy but if you had to, you would die for her. “They should be back soon, let’s head to the exit, they’ll catch up anyway I’m sure Liv and Owen are chomping at the bit to get the hell out of here I know I am.” We turn and head toward the exit. That’s when I see him, the guard walking straight for a girl. He looks like he means business, shit. We gotta get outta here before they lock this whole place down. I turn to Lenox, he sees the look in my eyes and turns to see the guard too. Then I take a look in the direction he is walking. She looks scared, I don’t know how or why but without hesitation I walk right up to her and grab her hand, she is shaking, I bend down slightly and whisper in her ear. “There is a guard coming for you, come with me.” I glance back and see Lenox right behind me. He knows we can’t leave her if she gets caught. She’s dead and there are just not enough of us left.
As I reach the door it has the same metal bar locking it in place. I steady myself and take a deep breath. I push the metal bar slowly, ‘click.’ I feel the burst of air rush in and for a second I am blinded by the bright lights. One foot in, now both, I turn to grab the handle but it slips and the door slams shut with an echoing thud. A few mall patrons turn at the sound but they quickly turn back to what they were doing. I made it, with no guards in sight. I stay with my plan turning left and I see the exit across the corridor. ‘Keep calm Sarah, running would make you look crazy’ Thirty feet is all that is between me and freedom. Twenty-five feet. I hear a commotion. I look left and there is a guard. My heart drops. I keep walking. He doesn’t look like he is in a hurry and they are always everywhere. I’m just being paranoid. Twenty feet to go. “Sarah Brooke?” I stop dead in my tracks and slowly turn around. “Sarah Brooke is that you?” I see the person who is talking and I can’t believe it. “Jason Davidson?” Jason was a boy I went to high school with before the virus hit, it has been more than eight years since I have seen him. “Wow, long time no see, looks like you’re doing well.” “You too” Every nerve in my body is on edge. I need to get the hell out of here. “How have you been?” he asks. Great, the universe puts this guy right here, right now and all he wants to do is eight years’ worth of catch-up? Just my luck. “I’ve been pretty good. Hey, I was just …” “How are your parents?” A sharp pain runs through my heart, it still hurts after all this time. “They died,” I say matter-of-factly. “Oh my God Sarah! I am so sorry.” “Thanks, actually Jason I gotta go I’m running late, call me sometime and we can catch up.” I turn and start walking. I hear him from behind say something to the effect of ‘but I don’t have your number’ but it’s too late. I’m already on the move. I can see the light outside through the doors. I’m almost there. Fifteen more feet to freedom. Then suddenly out of nowhere, I feel someone grab my hand. I am shaking, this is it, I’m caught. Then I hear his voice. “There is a guard coming for you, come with me.” I don’t know why I trust his voice but I do. His hands are big and strong. I turn to look at him and our eyes meet and for a split second, the world is put on hold. I feel this bolt of electricity run through my body, his presence feels familiar and yet I know I have never seen this man before in my life, I would remember him. I break our eye contact when I see the man behind him, he is as big as a house. His long blonde scraggly hair cascades over his shoulders. It looks like his muscles have muscles, he is intimidating, I flinch at the sight of him. The man holding my hand grips tighter. Now I see the guard coming, my heart races yet somehow I feel comfortable with these strangers, I know not to trust anyone but what choice do I have? If I run, the guard will catch me and I will be sent to the camps, this much I know. So at this moment, I decided to trust this man. “Run,” he growls at me, and without hesitation, I run. I let go of his hand and pushed through the doors into the blinding sunlight. As I glance back over my shoulder I see the blonde mountain of a man tackling the guard. I turn back to see what is in front of me and I look around. Row 2- spot 36, I think to myself that’s where I parked. I look at the blue signs and as I turn to run down the aisles of the parking lot I hear it. The unmistakable sound of a bomb exploding. Without much warning, the piercing sound of the explosion and the sheer force of the impact throws me to the ground. I feel a body come down on top of me, the crushing weight making it hard to breathe. I take a deep breath and the smell is familiar, it’s him. The man from the mall, the one who saved me from being caught, whose friend tackled the guard. His weight shifts and as I roll over and come face to face with him laying on top of me I hear, “Hey, I’m North.” “T ime to go,” North says as he rolls off me. He stands and extends his hand to help me up. “You okay?” I take a moment to look myself over. My knee is scraped and bleeding but I don’t think anything is broken. “Yeah I think so, I’m Sarah by the way, thank you for saving me back there.” Just then we both turn at the sound of the chaos. What we see is like something out of a movie. The mall is on fire, there are people screaming and running. A woman carrying a small child runs by us with a look of horror in her eyes. “I gotta go find my friends,” North proclaims. “I’m coming with you.” “No, you should go.” “You and your friends helped me. It’s my turn to help you,” and without saying another word we both take off running toward the mall. North spots Lenox first; he is bloody but looks like he is in one piece. “You alright man?” North asks him. “Yeah, you see the others?” “No” Just then I hear a woman’s voice screaming North’s name. I turn around and see two people running towards us. The woman is beautiful with her long black hair. She looks to be covered in tattoos and somehow looks familiar but I can’t tell where from. “North, thank god,” the woman says as she slams into him and wraps her arms around his neck. A feeling of jealousy washes over me, but why? I don’t even know this man. But just as quickly as the embrace starts, she pulls away and slugs him on the shoulder. “You scared the shit out of me North, what the hell was that?” “I’m not sure but Owen heard that another mall in the Pacific Quadrant, out on the coast, got hit last week.” Lenox pipes up, “Shit the kids!” North, Lenox, and the man and woman take off running toward the burning mall. North stops and looks at me. “You comin’?” Without hesitation, I take off running with him. “Who’s she?” The woman asks North. “Sarah and yeah it’s complicated, I’ll fill you in later. Let’s just find the kids and get the hell out of here.” We get back to the entrance where the front door used to be and the full effect of the bombing is clear. The back of the building seems to be engulfed in flames and the smoke is beginning to get thicker. The alarms and the screams are deafening. Everywhere I look, I see people bloody and crying. Some are laying on the ground motionless, others are running away trying to get to safety. We enter the mall and I look to my left. On the ground is the guard who was coming for me, he’s not moving. The only good thing about this is that the Authority will never know what happened to the guard. Then I think to myself they might not know about me either, I just may be in the clear after all. We get to the spot where I had run into Jason and the group gathers at the instruction of North. “They said they were going to the bathroom. Liv, Owen, you two go lookup by the outdoor store, Lenox, me and Sarah will go up by where I last saw them. Make your way to each bathroom.” He pulls his backpack off and kneels down on the floor. Unzipping the top and reaching in, he stands up holding three handheld radios. “Keep in contact, stay close, and as always don’t let them catch you; no matter what.” North tosses one of the handheld radios to the two people from the parking lot. The other to Lenox and with a nod of his head everyone takes off to find the kids. “How young are these kids?” I ask. “They are not really kids, Luna is 19 and Conrad is 20″ Lenox says. “Luna has long red hair and fair skin, Conrad is around six foot, lanky with olive skin and black hair,” North informs me. The radio screeches, “No luck up here” the woman’s voice says. “It’s really filling up with smoke, we are headed back to you” We approach the bathroom located next to the Bookstore. “There!” Lenox exclaims. We take off running until we come up to a young kid, who I assume must be Conrad, trying with everything he has to lift a heavy metal door. We can hear screams from inside. “Lenox grab that side.” North orders. And like two Olympic athletes the men lift the door freeing all those inside. A young girl, Luna I presume, comes flying out and into the arms of the boy. Tears are streaming down her cheeks. The woman and man jog up and stop. The woman grabs Conrad, pulling him into a tight hug, the man embraces Luna, and I can see the relief on all of their faces. Everyone turns to look at North for direction. At this point, it is obvious he is the leader. This is a tight group and I begin to feel like the outsider I am. “We gotta go, Crew should be loading the delivery by now and will be expecting us at the rendezvous point. Liv, and Owen, take the kids and find a ride. We will meet you there.” “What about her?” Liv motions toward me with her head. I can hear the snarky tone in her voice. Everyone turns to look at me. I feel the flush rise up to my cheeks. I don’t belong with them. “I’m gonna go,” I mutter. “She’s coming with us,” North says with authority. Suddenly we hear what appears to be part of the building collapse. “Go NOW!!!!” He shouts. We all turn and run towards the entrance, happy to be undetectable through the scanners that are no longer working. The guards are well distracted by the whole situation. “I can give you guys a ride.” I pant as we are running, damn I’m really out of shape. “Great let’s go, where are you parked?” I look up to check the aisle numbers. Row two, I turn and continue down the concrete parking lot Spot 36, I remind myself. The sounds of emergency vehicles are loud and coming from every direction it is disorientating and I almost miss my car but then I spot it. I slow my pace and try to catch my breath. My lungs feel like they are on fire and the muscles in my legs begin to quiver. “Here it is.” We stop at the front bumper of my car I reach in my pocket to unlock the doors and then it hits me, I drive a small compact car, I mean I fit in it fine but these two men will not. I look at North, who must be having the same thought, his eyes are already scanning the parking lot. “There,” North says while pointing to the lifted black truck in the back of the parking lot. “But my car,” I whimper. North stops and looks at me, his blue eyes peering into my soul. My breath catches for a moment. “Sarah you can go or you can come with us, I know you don’t know us but we are also the hunted, we have a plan I know it’s hard to trust anyone and I don’t know why but I trust you, do you trust me?” He extends his hand out to me. Everything in my body is telling me to run, is this a trap? You never really know who works for the Authority anymore. They have infiltrated every part of our lives and they use new tactics every day. “Yes.” The word spills from my mouth before I can think about it. I reach out and place my hand in his. I think he’s grinning. Butterflies fill my stomach. I can feel every inch of his hand around mine. It is as if somehow this is meant to be. Lenox is in front of us and continuously scans the parking lot for security or the Authority. We reach the truck and North bends down and puts his backpack on the ground, unzips it, and pulls out a long thin tool, handing it to Lenox. Without hesitation, Lenox spins around and places the tool in the window frame of the front driver’s door and pulls up, ‘click’ and in five seconds we are in. Grand theft auto was not on my to-do list today, but here we are. North puts his hands on my waist and hoists me up into the seat. “Scoot over,” he instructs as he jumps behind the wheel. Lenox bangs on the passenger window so I lean over and unlock the door. With little effort, he lifts his massive body into the seat. North bends down and rips some wires out below the steering column it becomes quite evident that this is not his first time, and with the simple swipe of some wires, the truck roars to life. Lenox pulls out a handheld radio, “Liv you guys good?” “Yep we are in a black Jeep we’ll follow you, over.” “Roger that.” North pulls the lever in the truck to drive and pushes the accelerator to the floor. We are on our way, but to where? I have no idea. We are all quiet for the first few minutes of the drive. I feel that we are all holding our breath until we get out of the parking lot. “Crew should have gotten the delivery of food by now and should be loading it into the truck,” North says to Lenox. Oh shit my food delivery, I totally forgot. “I need to go home.” I blurt out loud. “Sorry sweetie, no time for that, we gotta go, we have places to be, people to meet,” Lenox says. “I’m serious, North. I have a food delivery coming. I was in the grocery store a little while before I ran into you. Also if I’m going to take off and never come back I have some things I need to grab.” North says nothing but I can see his brow crease like he is crunching numbers and time and seeing if it is a possibility. “Where do you live?” “Just over on Madison, I can be in and out in twenty minutes if you guys can help me load my delivery. C’mon North, I have planned for this too and most of my things are ready to go in fifteen minutes tops.” He jerks the steering wheel to the right and we proceed toward my neighborhood.
It’s unbelievable how much everything in this country has changed in the last five years. These streets used to be full of life. Children riding their bikes, families playing in their yards, or walking their dogs. When the virus was first reported, life was normal. Everyone was told the best thing they could do would be to stay home for a couple of weeks. We had no reason to question them, they were the government and of course, they were looking out for all of us, right? Weeks passed by and with each new day came new restrictions and new ‘suggestions’ on how we could keep our loved ones and those in our communities safe. Families clung together in hopes of a quick resolution. Many people began working from home and since the schools were shut down many families were now spending every day together. After six months this either broke families apart or brought them closer together. After the first year of the virus, the government changed hands. The new administration known only as the Authority took over. Politics ruled our everyday lives and many felt like they had to choose a side. Families were forced to choose between the antitoxin or their livelihood; many died, and of course, their deaths went unreported. Most of the world was in the dark, only fed information that made it seem like the Authority was helping, doing everything they could to bring this to an end, to make our lives go back to normal. Little did we all know this was just the beginning of the plan for the atrocities that would befall all of us. The reaping of the children, the collapse of the economy, the fall of our nation.
As North turns onto Madison, I point toward my apartment.
“It’s up here on the right,” I direct North. “Just pull up front.” I can see my delivery is waiting for me. It is bigger than I thought but then again, three months’ worth of food is a lot. Thank god because I won’t be coming back here, I tell myself as a wave of sadness rushes over me. We come to a stop and Lenox opens his door and offers his hand to help me down. I dig through my purse and find my keys. I walk up to the front door with Lenox and North close behind. “Fifteen minutes,” North reminds me. I put the key in the lock and turn it. The familiar smell brings me comfort as I walk through the door for the last time. “If you guys want to start loading the food I will grab my stuff and be right back.” I turn and run upstairs. In my room, I find my ‘go-bag’. It’s a bag that has all the necessities I need if I have to run at any given moment. Since I have a few extra minutes I get down on the floor and reach under my bed for another bag. I plop it onto my bed, unzip the zipper and turn to go into the bathroom to grab some more supplies. Toothbrush, hairbrush, deodorant, razor, tampons, check. I throw them in the bag. I walk over to my dresser, underwear, bras, socks, and tank tops. Check. They are next to go in the bag. I reach into the bags from the mall which somehow seemed to survive the day and put the new boots and sneakers in too. I grab both bags and head to the door but just as I reach for the door handle, I pause. I drop the bags and head over to my nightstand, I pull open the drawer, and sitting there staring back at me is a small framed picture of my mom and dad. And next to it a small velvet-wrapped box. I reach for the black box and open it, my mom’s wedding ring. I pluck it from the safety of the box and hold out my hand. I pull the ring over the ring finger of my left hand and it slides perfectly down. I take a second to appreciate this bittersweet moment. I reach into the drawer and grab the photo, I walk back to my bag and grab some clothes. Careful not to crack the glass, I grab a t-shirt and wrap the photo up in it and tuck it inside the bag. I take the ring off and place it back into the safety of its little black box and tuck it into the bag too. I reach for the door handle, take in a deep breath, and shut the door knowing this will be the last time I see this room. I quickly make my way downstairs heading for the kitchen, yes I just had a huge delivery, but there are a few things I would like to take with me. Spices, yeast, and my grandma’s recipe book to name a few. I throw open my junk drawer, grab a small flashlight and stuff it in my pocket. Extra batteries go in the bag, a bottle of ibuprofen, and randomly out of the corner of my eye I see that little troll doll. Those weird little toys from the ’80s? The ones with the crazy hair. My dad had given it to me when I was five. I remember I had a crappy day at kindergarten. Some boy had been picking on me. My dad had to stop for gas on the way home. We went into the store to pay and at the register, there were these creepy but cute little troll dolls, my dad must have seen me looking at them because he grabbed one with bright pink hair and paid for it. He grabbed it and knelt down in front of me and said, “This little troll is going to protect you from all those mean troll-like boys out there.” I caught myself smiling at the memory of my dad. I pick it up and reach into my bag and pull out the ring box, I put the tiny little troll inside and flip the lid shut. I tuck it back into the bag. I make my way out to the front room. I pause for a minute and look around. This has been my home for the last year and a half. As I walk out the front door I turn around and pull the door closed. I see North and Lenox and they seem to be loading the last of the bags. “Ready?” North asks. “Yeah, I’m ready.” I walk down the path a little sad but mostly excited and scared. I toss my bags up to Lenox who is standing in the bed of the truck. “That’s it?” He asks as he catches the second bag with a puzzled look on his face. “Yep, that’s it,” I say back with a smirk. “Damn North I’ve never met a girl who could leave with just two bags, how ’bout you?” “You’re right Lenox, she must be special.” I glance over to North as he winks at me. A shiver runs through my body. Who is this man? I have never had this kind of connection with another human. Sure, I had had boyfriends before but damn this is on a whole new level. Just as we are climbing back into the truck I notice, for the first time, the truck itself. No flashy bells and whistles, not the newest model out there. In fact, I finally realize why, out of all the fancy cars and trucks available in the mall parking lot they chose this one. It’s older, the body style is boxy not like the new trucks. It has a black matte finish that does not reflect the sun. Nothing on the outside stands out, this truck was designed to stay under the radar. Even the seats inside, I notice, as North once again puts his hands on my hips and hoists me inside, are covered with a cloth so as not to reveal the age of the seats underneath. I have a faint pain of guilt for helping to steal this truck, someone is probably out in the parking lot of the mall right now freaking out. I apologize to them in my head and return to the reality that I am leaving my entire life behind to go with these people whom I just met, into the unknown future.
I look down at my arm as I feel the goosebumps appear, they are not the kind that scares or frightens you, but the ones you get when you feel something is right in your soul. North reaches down and grabs the wires and right before he rubs them together, Lenox says, “Hey North we have company.” North stops, drops the wires, and peers out the windshield to see what Lenox is talking about. I look too and in front of us is a black SUV. It is parked five houses down. The only people who drive black SUVs like that are the Authority. My heart sinks, my picture must have been distributed before the explosion. They are here for me. “Let me out,” I plead. “I’ll just grab my bags, this is my problem. I never meant for anyone else to be involved.” I feel my pulse race, this is it, I’m going to the camps. The last few hours have been terrifying and fun but I am caught, no one escapes them. I am going to die. Without hesitation, both men glanced up at each other, and with a nod of his head North picks up the two wires as Lenox reached for the handle pushing the door open. He slides out quietly, too quietly for a man of his size, and pushes the door shut with only a ‘click’. “What’s going on? Let me out North, This is my problem, I don’t need you guys getting thrown into the camps because of me! I can take care of myself!” The truck roars to life and North turns to me with those piercing blue eyes. “Hold on this is going to be fun,” He teases. I hold my breath. We sit in the same spot for what can be only a minute, but it feels like forever. North revs the engine over and over, I can’t see the people in the SUV or their reactions, I can’t tell if they are moving. Where the hell is Lenox? I think to myself. Why are we getting ready to leave without him? And just like that, he reappears. The passenger door of the truck opens with force and he hops his big body up into the seat with one motion. “All set?” asks North. “Yep, let’s roll.” Without warning the truck lunges forward and I am thrown back in my seat. We cruise by the black SUV and I can hear their engine roar to life. I turn to look through the back window and see them. They start to pull out from the curb and then suddenly their SUV stops. I see that all their tires seem to go flat simultaneously. “Holy shit! Lenox, you are amazing! How the hell did they not see you?” Lenox gives me a sideways grin. “Awe shucks Miss Sarah you’re embarrassing me.” We all began laughing. It feels like the first time in a long time I have truly laughed. “Seriously Lenox how does a man of your size pull that off?” North pipes in “Some secrets are better left a mystery.”
We head down my road or should I say my former road and it then begins to hit me. This morning I left with only the intention of getting supplies for the next three months. To avoid the guards and make it through the scanners. But somehow in this crazy world in just a matter of hours, I have managed to be wanted by the Authority, escape a bombing, moved out of my home, and began an adventure with some random people I have only met a couple of hours ago. And then I realized; I haven’t felt this alive in a long time. I smile, tilt my head back onto the headrest and let myself enjoy the feel of the breeze rush over my face. I have no idea what is coming next or if I will make it to the next place or if I will end up in the camps, but right here and right now I feel at peace. Then I feel North’s hand brush against my thigh, although I’m sure it is unintentional, I feel a radiating sensation of electricity flowing through my body. This man, whom I barely know, could be what ends me; or he could be the reason my life begins right now.
We turn right to take Old Pioneer Highway, I assume because there is less chance of a blockade. All roads have had these for the last couple of years, they are unannounced and sporadic. Some days you can be driving down your normal path to work or to the store and a blockade will just appear. A long line where they scan each and every person in your vehicle without warning. For most, this is just a formality for ‘the believers’ it is almost a gift, they get to show off their compliance. For me, and those like me, it is terrifying. That’s why each time we leave our homes we glue the chip to our forearms. The tattoos help to hide them but we know that it is just one keen-eyed guard away from the camps. A look down at my arm and the panic starts to rise as I rub my finger over my tattoo. My chip. North must sense something is off, “Sarah, what is wrong?” “My chip. It fell off in the mall while I was trying on a jacket. That is why the guards were chasing me.” I see North and Lenox exchange looks. “It will be okay, I’ll let Owen know. He can work on getting you a new chip.” “Thank you.” Today is not the day to get caught. We have already gone through so much. I push away all the thoughts of the Authority and the current state of the nation and lean back, I’m going to enjoy this even if it’s the last thing I do. Traveling up the forested road, I notice the stillness of the land. Lenox seems to be satisfied in staring out the side window then suddenly I feel him shift in his seat. “We have company.” Lenox breaks the blissful silence. I turn around to see a black SUV following us. Panic rises through my body and feel the fight or flight senses take over, but North maintains his composure. “Lenox, radio the others we’re gonna have to take a detour.” We veer off the road and with a jarring turn we end up on a side road. North seems to know where he is going although I have no idea how. “Owen,” A long pause of silence fills the cab. “Owen, Liv are you there?” Lenox repeats. “Owen here,” finally breaking the radio silence “Hey, we’ve got a situation here.” North proceeds to tell Owen about the black SUV back at my place, the maneuver Lenox took to disable the tires and our current situation with the SUV following us. “Got it North, just head towards the forest road ten clicks up and take a right, and I will have it covered.” I haven’t heard much about Owen. Back at the mall, he was just the guy with Liv. We continue to drive and are still being followed by the black SUV so far there is only one. I have no idea how long ‘ten clicks’ is, but North’s demeanor has changed, he is focused. I turn around to look out the back window, they seem to be gaining on us. North pushes down on the accelerator as dust and dirt fly up behind the truck. I can still see their headlights, they are getting closer and closer. Suddenly, I feel a jolt, and just like that, the SUV comes to a screeching halt. We slow down but keep moving and then Lenox and North burst out laughing. “He did it again!” exclaims Lenox. “Never doubted him for a second.” I have no idea what just happened, but whatever it was I’m glad that the SUV is gone. We drive down the road for another fifteen minutes and then see a black Jeep on the side of the road with Liv and Owen standing next to it and North rolls to a stop. Lenox jumps out and runs over to Owen and scoops him in a bear hug, pulling him a foot off the ground. He plops him down as Owen tries to catch his breath and regain his balance. North helps me down out of the truck and we walk over to the group. “We are about thirty minutes from the rendezvous point. If we high tail it back to the main road we could make it on time, but after that last incident, I’m thinking we stay off the beaten path. It’s gonna take us longer but less risk.” Everyone agrees and Owen says he will contact Crew to let him know we will be late. “Hey North?” Luna asks. “Can Conrad and I jump in the back of the truck?” “I don’t know kid, it’s pretty full.” “Pretty please?” Her puppy dog brown eyes look up at North and her hands intertwine with each other, pleading like a small child asking for candy. “Fuck it, if you guys can make the room you can ride back there, you got five minutes.” “Lenox, you hop in with Liv and Owen and fill them in on everything.” He makes a nod toward me. I don’t think I am supposed to notice.
After five minutes we load up. Conrad and Luna are in the back of the truck and North and I are alone in the cab. The tension is thick, this is going to be a long drive, I think to myself. I turn my head to stare out the window, at least the Authority has left the landscape alone, it’s beautiful out here. I feel North’s hand brush up against my thigh again and a rush of heat runs through my body. It’s going to be a long drive but somehow I think I will manage. “S o” North begins, “How does a girl like you end up being all alone at the mall?” “My parents died a couple of years ago,” the thought of them makes my eyes fill with tears. I turn to compose myself. “My parents had taught me the ins and outs of getting through the scanners and how to plan for months at a time, so really I was just doing my once every-three-month trip.” “Why was the guard chasing you?” he asks. “I was trying on a new jacket and I must not have felt the chip I glued on my arm fall off.” I catch myself rubbing my forearm where my tattoo is. He caught it and moved his hand there, rubbing his thumb over the tattoo. “You should show this tattoo to Liv, she had her own shop back before the virus and I think she would like it.” “How’d you two meet? You seem pretty tight,” I ask. “Back before the first virus, Crew, who you’ll meet when we get to the rendezvous point, decided to go out to the bar drinking and then about eight beers and a few shots later, had the bright idea to go get tattoos at about ten o’clock at night. Liv’s shop was the first one we stumbled into. And over the next couple of years, I stopped in for more. We became friends, she’s like a sister to me.” “So you never…” “With Liv? Hell no! She would kill me,” he laughs. “Plus, I’m not her type.” I can’t imagine how this beautiful man could not be her type. “She actually had a thing for my buddy Crew and they went out on a couple of dates, but once he met Lily,” his words trailed off. I know that voice, something must have happened to her, I didn’t want to push it and he didn’t seem to want to go into details so I just let it go.
We pull up to what looks like an old abandoned farm. Fields of tall grass are outlined with wooden fences. Flowers are lining the long gravel driveway. Suddenly a house comes into view and it is beautiful. A two-story white farmhouse with a wrap-around front porch and blue shutters on the windows. As we crawl closer I can see that the home looks vacant. The white paint is starting to peel and flake off. I feel sadness for whoever built and lived here, in its day this home must have been spectacular. I could imagine a couple living here, raising their children, and their grandchildren. Horses grazing in the fields, chickens pecking away at the flowers only to be run off by the farmer’s wife. It is a beautiful picture of the life I have always dreamt of.
I snap back to reality, no one is here. We are in the middle of nowhere, I am surrounded only by these strangers and suddenly I begin to get a little nervous, North must sense it. “It’s all good, this is the rendezvous point, Crew should be here. We will dump these stolen cars and jump into the rigs we have been prepping.” Then as if on cue, a man appears next to the big red barn. Now I know I am sitting next to a dream of a man, I still can’t believe it when I look at him, but the man that is slowly pulling these large barn doors open is gorgeous. He is in a black tank top and you can see the tattoos cascading down from his shoulders. His well-sculpted arms look as if they are carved out of granite. I catch myself staring. The truck comes to a stop and North throws it into park, he flings open the door and hops down out of the truck, and walks up to the man who I assume is Crew from our conversation. I hear Conrad hop out of the back, I actually forgot they were back there. I look into the side mirror just in time to see him reach out and catch Luna who jumps into his arms, oh young love. I take a deep breath, open the door, and Lenox appears at my door and gives me a hand down out of the truck. I walk over to meet Crew. North turns and grins. “Crew this is Sarah, Sarah, Crew.” I reach to shake his hand. “Nice to meet you.” “Hey.” He shakes my hand but I get a weird feeling. I brush it off. This whole day has been stressful. I’m sure that’s all this is too. “Let’s get this shit moved into the rigs. We have a lot of ground to cover before we get to the cabin.” North instructs everyone. And just like that everyone gets to work. Conrad and Luna jump back up into the bed of the truck, Liv and Owen are there to grab the stuff from them. North, Crew, and Lenox start grabbing bags off the ground and carrying them into the barn. I bend down and pick up a bag and start my way to the barn. I will be damned if I’m not going to carry my own weight. Once the truck is unloaded Lenox drives it around back, probably never to be seen again. Owen takes the Jeep back there too and then it’s time to go. “Hey Sarah, want to freshen up with me before we leave?” I turn my head and see this sweet young girl talking to me. “Sure,” I say. We walk up to the abandoned-looking farmhouse and she reaches for the door. “How do you know we can go in here?” I ask. Luna turns and chuckles, “We’ve been here before it’s okay.” We walk in through the door and into the kitchen. Wow, I think to myself, back in the day this must have been beautiful. I hope one day I can live in a house like this. Luna calls ‘dibs’ on the bathroom first and I take a moment to look around.
The house is beautiful with intricate wood carvings in the beams. The furniture peeked out underneath the white sheets in the living room. I get lost in the daydream of this home in its glory days and the people who would have lived here. As I look over to the kitchen table I remember how this day started out so different than the situation I find myself in now. I think about myself sitting at my own kitchen table this morning going over my lists of supplies. Meticulously going over each and every recipe and ingredient knowing that if I missed something it wasn’t as easy as ‘I’ll just run to the store’. Little did I know just a few hours ago how this day would turn out.
Luna appears in the kitchen and it is my turn. I walk into what has to be a 100-year-old bathroom and shut the wooden door. I pause for a moment and took a look in the mirror, despite the day I’m not looking too horrible. I finish what I need to do and head out to the barn, this day is not even close to over and I brace myself for whatever may come next. “Alright, everyone ready?” North asks. “Things are a little tighter than we planned but we also have almost double the food,” he looks over at me and gives me a wink. “With that said, we need to figure out who rides where.” “Me and Sarah will take the lead. Lenox, Crew, and Owen are behind us. Liv, Conrad, and Luna in the back, everyone okay with that?” Everyone shakes their heads in agreement. “Make sure your radios are on, we will be on channel 22 from now until we hit the cabin” Everyone turns around and walks to their respective vehicles. North turns and I follow him to the big black tank-like vehicle. I have never seen anything like this. It looks like something they would use in the military. “What kind of vehicle is this?” I ask as he hoists me up into the passenger seat. He shuts the door and makes his way to his side. He climbs in and in one swift movement he starts the engine and proceeds to pull forward down the driveway we came up a little while ago. “It’s a Hummer H1, Owen has added some special technical touches. Me, Crew, and Lenox made the exterior upgrades. We knew the day would come when we had to bug out of here, but we never knew when and we like to be prepared.” He had a shit-eating grin on his face. I knew there was more to the story but I also got the sense that this would be a long drive and I figured we could save some of it for later. “Whose cabin are we going to?” I ask. “It’s Crew’s family cabin. They have had the cabin forever. When we were younger his dad would take us up there hunting and fishing. He always had us up here doing ‘man stuff’ since my dad died in Iraq, I always tagged along. My mom worked two jobs and Crew’s family became like my second family.” “Are Crew’s parents or your mom still around?” “No, my mom got the antitoxin in the first round, she had to for her job. She was a nurse and we needed to eat.” I could feel his pain. “Crew’s parents died in a car crash five years before the virus and they left everything to Crew.” “Did your mom make it through Activation Day?” “No, “ he said with the weight of the world behind it. “Neither did my parents.” He reached for my hand and our fingers laced together as if it has happened a million times before. The day the antitoxin was activated would go down in history books as the worst case of genocide known to man. Three years ago they came up with the antitoxin. They pushed it harder than anything in history. There was a nonstop media push for everyone to get it, those who did not became the enemy. There were radio ads, TV commercials, and celebrities telling us to get it. The pressure and the shame of not getting it was too much for some. The Authority began to flex its power, first telling those it had control over, that it was a requirement. Doctors and nurses, school staff, and police were forced to decide between their own beliefs and their livelihood. When the Authority came after the blue-collar workers, they pushed back, filed lawsuits, and protested and for a time, they won. But slowly one by one, big companies folded and required the Antitoxin for their employees. But yet there were still those that held out. That was not good enough for the Authority. After their candidate, Douglas Donavan was decimated in the election, they were about to lose their power and domination of the citizens. That was until the assassination of the rightfully elected president, the country went into mourning. This was, by design, the perfect opportunity for the Authority to make their move for total control of us, the people. On that fateful day in the Spring, the antitoxin was activated and millions died. This was the plan, to kill the weak, to alienate those who had refused, to paint a target on their backs and make them easy to find. To kill the wolves so only the sheep would remain. This was their Utopian plan, those who questioned it were not to be tolerated; they were to become ‘the hunted’. With millions still not in compliance and the election on hold, it presented the perfect opportunity for the Authority to execute the biggest and most heinous part of its plan. The Activation. Now, many had speculated for years that the Antitoxin, pushed so hard, must have a bigger plan behind it. But none of those theories could be proven, in fact, those people who spouted any talks of nefarious plans were labeled conspiracy theorists and tin-hat-wearing crazy folk. If only we had taken them seriously. On the day of the Activation, it was a beautiful spring day. Most adults were at work, and most children were in school, in fact, as days in history go, it would have been a perfectly normal day. But at 10:22 a.m. on the west coast, the antitoxin was activated. News anchors were having heart attacks on live television. 911 centers were overwhelmed with calls to the point that they shut down. There were two categories of people hit the hardest, the elderly and the children. At first, the reports of mass casualties were at nursing homes and care facilities. People were trying to get to their loved ones and were locked out. Many died with no family by their side. Then parents started receiving calls from schools. Children were dying. Teachers and staff were dying too. And although all the adults had been given the antitoxin as a condition of their employment. Many children had not been given the antitoxin, so how could they be dying? Is this a new virus? Panic began to spread throughout the country and around the world. Businesses shut down, travel worldwide was grounded. There was something happening but no one knew what it was. At least that is what we thought. Many news channels brought up terrorism, as the reports from every state and every city began to come in. We knew that this event and this event alone would be the downfall of our republic. America had fallen, we just didn’t know at the time that it was our own government that was responsible for the massacre. I was home then, doing an online version of college. For my entire life, I had worked and studied to go away to a four-year university. And for the first seven months, it was great. Finally getting to experience, a little bit of responsibility and freedom. When my school let out for Spring break, I came home. I didn’t tell them, but I missed my parents. My moms home cooked meals, the silly jokes and stories my dad would tell, I missed the familiar. I brought home all of my winter gear and was planning on taking my warm weather clothes back with me after spring break, but then the virus hit, and schools were closed and that began my time at home. No frat parties, no living on my own, just me being an adult, living in my childhood bedroom. Now I look back and I cherish that time. We spent so much time together, my mom becoming my ‘study buddy’, and my dad working on remodeling the downstairs of our house so I could have, what felt like my own place. We had so many fun times together, some days I wish I could just go back there, shut the world out, and just be sitting in my living room with my mom and dad doing absolutely nothing.
North and I have been driving in silence for a while, our hands intertwined. His thumb rubbing ever so gently along mine. I watch the scenery out the window, the trees in all their glory towering over the skyline. Out here, it is nature all around. No power lines or billboards, stop lights, or people. An occasional car passes us going the opposite direction but out here it is beautiful and peaceful. “Hey North you there?” the voice over the radio is jarring. We have been quiet for so long just holding hands and living with our own thoughts. Reality came back with a slap. North fumbles for the radio. “Lenox, what’s up?” “It’s getting pretty dark out boss, wanna find camp for the night?” It was the first time I noticed the setting sun and the break of twilight out the windows, even though I have been staring out of them for a while now. I look over to North. “Yeah sounds good, I think there is a spot up ahead not too far, it should be good for the night.” “Roger that.” We pull off the main road and onto a small gravel road. I look into the side mirror and watch as the other vehicles following us, turn too. “It’s not much further.” North reaches for my hand and pulls it up and kisses the back. “I know we have a lot to figure out Sarah, I don’t know why I feel so comfortable with you, but if you have to leave I’ll understand.” Shocked by his statement and not knowing what he has been thinking about for the last hour, I turn to him and say, “I’m not going anywhere.” We come to a clearing and North pulls the rig over and turns off the engine. I reluctantly let go of his hand and stretch out my muscles. The long drive and deep thought have turned my muscles to stone. I feel for the first time today that I could curl up and sleep for a week. Before I realize it, North is opening my door, I climb down out of the rig and look around at our home for the night. The lavish forest is unbelievable. The Pacific Northwest is undeniably the most beautiful landscape in the world. The towering evergreens, the moss-covered trunks. The endless underbrush and lush forest ground are only stopped by the creek cutting through, which provides a soothing song of its own. The sky is still bright enough to see but with an eerie yet beautiful hue that envelopes the world all around. “Fire, then tents!” I hear North shout. I snap back to reality. “How can I help?” “Here ya go.” I barely catch the rolled-up tent that Liv thrusts at my chest. I don’t lose my balance, thank god, I feel like I would never live that down. North reaches for it and I pull away. “I got it, I’m not just a pretty face,” I say in a snarky tone as I tromp through the dense grass looking for the perfect place to put up a tent. Forgetting that I have no idea how to do it. Finally reaching what I believe is the best spot, I drop the bag to the ground. I see that Conrad and Lenox have started a fire, the flames are dancing off all the trees and bushes. I zip open the bag and begin to realize that all the tents I had ever put up in my life I had done with my dad and that I’m pretty sure he did most of the work. But I have lived on my own and done lots of things for the first time so I tell myself I’m going to put my big girl panties on and show these people I am not just a girl that needs saving. Twenty minutes later, I think I’m doing pretty good. I have two of the poles together and the fabric all laid out. I stop and glance up, everyone else has their entire tents set up and they are staring at me. Laughter bursts out throughout camp. I am mortified. North makes his way over to me. “Sarah, no hard feelings we are just having fun, don’t be mad.” “Oh I’m not mad,” I say with a vengeance. I lean into him so no one else can hear, “By the way you better not be thinking about leaving until this is put together.” He chuckles and we get to work finessing the poles through the fabric loops until finally, at last, a tent and a temporary home in this beautiful setting are set up and ready. We make our way over to the bonfire. Lenox, Owen, Crew, and Liv are already sipping off what looks like a bottle of whiskey. Conversations are fun and lighthearted. Everyone is joking and laughing and then I realize while sitting here, taking sips out of the bottle of whiskey being passed around reminds me of the before. A group of friends, living in a free land, enjoying each other’s company without a care in the world. So much has changed, and most of it we have had no control over, but this moment right here and right now, with these people that I hardly know, is about as close to perfect as I can ask for. “So Sarah, how did you end up being chased by a guard at the mall?” Luna innocently asks. “Damn Luna, just dive right in with the Q & A, Why don’t ya,” Owen says as he takes a swig off the bottle of whiskey. North leans over and whispers to me, “You don’t have to explain yourself.” I shake my head, if I want them to like me or even trust me, I am going to have to let them know me. “Well, Luna I was there on a supply run. I usually go every three months.” “By yourself?” she asks. “Yeah, my parents died a while ago so I’ve been on my own ever since.” I can hear the touch of sadness in my own voice. Everyone is silent. Luna turns and looks at me. “Sorry about your parents.” “Thank you, Luna. Anyway, at the mall, I was trying on a jacket and the chip I glued to my arm must have come loose, when I went up to pay, the scanner didn’t work. I thought I played it off well enough, but the righteous cashier called the guards. If it hadn’t been for all of you, I’m sure I would have been caught and sent to the camps, even with the explosion.” “Speaking of the explosion, Owen, have you heard any chatter yet?” Lenox asks. I look over at him, thankful for the subject change. “Yeah, about two hours ago the Revolution claimed people who were once affiliated with them but were kicked out for their dangerous ideas of how to take the country back, were responsible for the recent bombings. The Revolution has been growing rapidly over the last few weeks. There have been stories leaking from the camps and with that, hope.” “Hey Owen, if you don’t mind me asking, what did you do before?” I ask. “Well, I was 19 when the virus first hit. I wasn’t doing much.” He laughs. Then everyone else starts laughing too. I don’t get the joke. “Owen here is a little freaking hacker genius.” Lenox pipes in. “At 19 Owen was hacking into government databases and was wanted by just about everyone with credentials. That’s how we met at Coyote Ridge.” “What’s Coyote Ridge?” I ask. “Well, it’s a prison, darlin’.” Lenox states plainly. “I kept the kid safe inside, and he upped my stock portfolio.” I’m in shock. I don’t know if it is the fact that Owen is a hacker genius, that there are at least two felons sitting and drinking from the same whiskey bottle as me, or that Lenox had a stock portfolio. “No worries Sarah, they are harmless,” Liv says with a sly smile on her face. “Don’t let them scare you.” North tells me as he places his hand on my thigh. “Owen and Lenox were out, even before the prisoner’s release.” “What exactly were you hacking? If you don’t mind me asking.” “At first nothing big, Area 51, who killed JFK, basic hacker shit. When the virus hit and the government began to be shady with all the studies, I began digging deeper. Deaths reported vs real counts, antitoxin deaths you know, the truth. But I got a little too close to the Authority’s plan and they shut me down and locked me up.” “Wow, I’m in shock. I really thought you were gonna say you hacked into porn sites or something.” Lenox blows whiskey out of his nose. North and Liv begin laughing hysterically. Conrad and Luna are staring at me in disbelief. “Damn Sarah, why you gotta do me dirty like that?” Owen says with his hand over his chest like I have broken his heart. “She might not be so bad after all, North,” Liv says as she hands me the bottle of whiskey which I gladly take a drink of. North moves his hand off my thigh and reaches for my hand and our fingers interlock without hesitation. I am beginning to feel like one of them. It has been so long since I have had friends I forgot how much I missed it. I look over to see Crew staring at me. His piercing green eyes flickered in the light of the fire. He looks angry. I have no idea why. What the hell could I have done to a guy who I met only a few short hours ago? I’m not the only one to notice. “What’s your problem Crew?” North asks. “She is.” Crew points directly at me. “What the fuck did she do to you? You need to chill the fuck out and go to bed before you do or say something you’re gonna regret.” North seems on edge like he has seen this before. He lets go of my hand and scoots to the edge of his seat like he is anticipating the inevitable. Within seconds Crew is on his feet, leaping over the fire pit, he lunges at me and I duck. North leans his body over me and gets punched right in the jaw. Another random document with no related content on Scribd: “Jones?” he asked. The coach nodded. “And tell Truitt I said I’d changed my plans. Tell him I’ve decided to win the game.” Joe grinned. Then he ran on just in time and pushed Jones out of the way. It was Enwright’s ball on her forty-six yards, second down and five to go when Joe arrived. Tru looked a bit puzzled at the message for a moment, but then he grasped the idea and it seemed to do him a lot of good. “That’s the stuff!” he cried hoarsely. “We’ve got orders from the coach to win this, fellows! What d’ye say now! Everyone into it hard! All we want’s one score. Let’s get it!” Enwright tried out the new center and made only a yard. Joe jeered at them. “Come again!” he told them. “Always glad to see you!” They got three past left tackle and Joe was on Conners like a ton of bricks, bawling him out. “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded. “Trying to chuck this game away? Fight, you big baby! Don’t let ’em walk over you! Fight!” Conners was so surprised that he forgot to get mad until it was too late. Tru said that having Joe butt in and take things out of his hands like that sort of flabbergasted him, but he was so tired and used up he was glad to have someone else do the bossing. Enwright only needed another yard to make her distance and she tried to shove her way past Conners for it. But Conners was insulted and mad clean through now, and he wouldn’t have it, and blamed if we didn’t take the ball away from them in the middle of the field, and for the first time that day! After that Joe created his own atmosphere, as he had put it to me, and it was a brand new atmosphere for the rest of the bunch. He kept dinning it into them that they were going to win, that Enwright was a lot of quitters and all tired out, anyway, that they only needed a touchdown and that they were on their way to it. And blessed if they didn’t begin to believe it! And it wasn’t long before Enwright was thinking there might be something in it, too! Tru said you could notice the difference five minutes after the last quarter began. They eased up and didn’t round off their plays. Their quarter began to change signals, and once they went back and put their heads together. When they did that Joe gloated openly and began to show even more pep. “Sure!” he cried, “Talk it over! Know you’re beaten, don’t you? If you’ve got anything left, show it! Time’s getting short!” It was, too. There was only about seven minutes left. We had taken the ball back to their twenty-eight and had to punt, and they had run it back to the thirty-six and were shy four yards on the third down. They got two of the four on a delayed pass that fooled every one on our team except Joe, it seemed, and then had to punt. Of course, all they wanted now was to kill time, and they tried every means they knew. But White got away from our thirty-five with a run that landed the pigskin past the middle again and then Morgan sent Presson back into the line-up and Press ate up ten yards in three plunges. It looked like we had them going then, and we were cheering ourselves hoarse on the stand. Joe snarled and bullied, and praised, too, and in those last five minutes he had every fellow on the team working for him like dogs. And they all expected to win, too. That’s the funny part of it. Dobbs told me afterwards that if we’d been beaten he would have cried like a kid. But we weren’t. No, sir, we weren’t. Not that year. We ate them up from their thirty-eight yards right down to their ten. They stiffened then and at first it was like chipping concrete to make gains. There was hardly more than a minute left. We could hear Joe barking and yelping. Even when he sounded the maddest you felt sure that he was going to get what he was after. And Enwright knew it, too. Yes, sir, Enwright showed it right then. She wasn’t cocky any longer. She was pegged out and nervous and discouraged. You could see it in the way the backs changed positions behind the forwards, not being sure where they’d better stay, and you could see it in the way the line started before the ball twice. We made a yard and a half on the first plunge and lost the half on the second, and it was nine to go on the third down. We were all off the stand by that time, clustering along the side line and back of the goal, cheering and yelping at one moment and then being so still the quarter’s voice sounded like claps of thunder. Our right end scampered off, Joe passed to the quarter, quarter faked a forward and dropped the ball to Maynard and Maynard shot straight into the center. Joe was clearing the hole out for him, and he did it to the king’s taste. Right through and into the secondary defense plunged Joe, taking them with him as he went, while Maynard, head down, pigskin clutched to his tummy, followed after. They stopped them short of the last line, but not much short, and we still had another down. The timekeeper was walking nearer and nearer with his eyes on his watch and we fellows looking on almost had heart failure. It seemed to us that our team had never taken longer to line up and that the quarter had never been so slow with his signals. But he got them out finally and—Oh, well, you know what happened. It was Joe again, and Maynard again, and Enwright went down like nine-pins and our whole team broke through her center and went tumbling, streaming over the goal line! And when the whistle blew Joe had to trot back from the other side of the end line, he had been going so hard! That’s how we broke the hoodoo. Tru failed at goal, but we had won, thirteen to twelve, anyway. They elected Joe captain a week later, and he would have been a corker if the war hadn’t come along. He went over in the spring, and the next thing we heard he was top sergeant. I’m sorry for the Huns in front of Joe’s platoon if he used that psychology stuff! BILLY MAYES’ GREAT DISCOVERY
C aptain Ezra Blake, seated on the edge of the deck-house of the
little schooner Molly and Kate, was trying to do two things at once. He was superintending the unloading of ballast by a crew of four men and a boy and he was answering the questions of Billy Mayes, who sat beside him. Billy was twelve and Captain Ezra was almost five times twelve, but they were great cronies. The Molly and Kate was tied up to Forster’s Wharf only last evening, and already, this being a Saturday morning, Billy was on hand to hear what wonderful adventures had befallen his friend on the latest voyage. The Molly and Kate carried lumber to fascinating Southern ports like Charleston and Savannah and Jacksonville and even, less frequently, Havana, and never a voyage but what Captain Ezra returned with a new budget of marvelous tales for Billy’s delight. Some day Billy was going to sail with the Captain and see the astounding places and things with his own two very blue eyes: see Charleston and Cape Hatteras and the Sea Islands and Florida. But more especially he would visit Pirate Key, for it was on Pirate Key that the Captain met with his very startlingest adventures. Billy had never been able to find Pirate Key on any map, but, as the Captain explained, it wasn’t very big and few mariners even knew of its existence. Somewhere between the Marquesas and the Dry Tortugas it lay, and beyond that the Captain declined to commit himself: which, under the circumstances, Billy considered quite proper, for it seemed that the natives of Pirate Key were a peculiarly sensitive people and much averse to visitors and publicity. Even the Captain, with his winning personality, had had much difficulty in becoming friends with the inhabitants of the island. The first time he had tried to land on it, many years ago, he and his crew had been fired on with poisoned arrows. Captain Ezra could still point out the dents made by the arrows on the old blue dory that trailed astern there. The Captain, with one mild gray eye on the crew, had just finished a soul-stirring account of the hurricane that had met them off the South Carolina coast on their northward trip, and Billy was still glowing with pride at the thought of knowing so intimately a person of such nautical skill and personal bravery, for, although the Captain hadn’t said so in so many words, it was very plain that only heroism and remarkable seamanship had brought the Molly and Kate safely through great peril, when “Long Joe” Bowen, shoveling sand nearby, was conquered by a perfectly terrible spasm of coughing and choking. Captain Ezra viewed him silently for a moment and then inquired mildly: “Been an’ swallered some o’ that sand, Joe?” “Long Joe” nodded and said “Yes, sir,” in a very husky voice. “Mm, well you want to be more careful,” advised the Captain most sympathetically, “’cause if you ain’t I’m likely to have to swab out your throat for you, an’ that’s a remarkably painful operation, Joe.” There was no response to this, but Billy could see “Long Joe’s” shoulders heaving and knew that he must already be in much pain. Billy, like his friend the Captain, had a very sympathetic nature. When the sufferer appeared to be easier Billy looked up again at the Captain’s seamed and ruddy countenance and asked: “Did you get to Pirate Key this time, sir?” “Pirate Key?” responded the Captain. “Oh, yes, we were there a couple o’ days. Not on business, but you see I’d promised the King I’d drop in on him the next time I was down around there. Seein’ as he leads a kind o’ lonely life, an’ him an’ me bein’ particular friends, as you might say, I didn’t have the heart to say no to him.” “Was he quite well?” asked Billy politely. “Pretty smart for an old fellow. You see, Billy, he’s—let me see— why, he must be well over a hundred now.” “A hundred!” gasped the boy. The Captain nodded gravely. “Them Pirate Key folks lives a long time. They don’t go to school until they’re twenty. If they did, you see, they’d forget all they’d learned afore they was what you might call middle-aged.” Billy pondered that. Not going to school until one was twenty had things to be said in its favor. Still, it was revolutionary, and he decided to put it aside for further consideration. “And how was the Queen? And the Prince?” he asked interestedly. “Well, the Queen was well, but the Prince had been an’ ate something as didn’t agree with him. The Royal Physician was some worried when I got there, but I give him a couple o’ doses of kerosine oil an’ it did him a power o’ good.” “The—the physician?” asked Billy doubtfully. “No, the Prince, o’ course. There wasn’t nothing the matter with the physician.” The Captain sounded slightly vexed. “He’d been an’ ate some—some—what’s this now?—some hoki-moki fruit.” He viewed Billy sternly. “The Prince had.” “Really?” asked Billy. “What—what is hoki-moki fruit like?” “Well,” replied the narrator, knocking the ashes from his pipe and thoughtfully scraping the bowl with his pocket knife, “it’s a sort o’ like a orange an’ sort o’ like a apple.” “Oh!” “An’ it’s pizen if you eat it afore it’s ripe. Don’t never touch a hoki- moki fruit till it’s purple, Billy.” Billy promised instantly. “Only,” he added, “I might not know it, Captain Ezra, if I was to go to Pirate Key. Is it round? Does it grow on trees?” “More square than round, you might say. It grows in clusters as big as that water cask there. Hundreds of ’em together. An’ they grow high because if they didn’t the wild horses would eat ’em when they was green an’ die. That’s one o’ the wonders o’ Nature, Billy.” “Yes, sir. But I didn’t know horses ate fruit.” “Ain’t you ever see a horse eat a apple? Why, they’re plumb fond o’ apples. Bananas, too. An’ watermelons. Guess the only kind o’ fruit a horse won’t eat is cocoanuts.” The Captain filled his pipe leisurely and in silence. Then: “Another peculiar thing, Billy, is that you might call the affinity o’ the hoki-moki tree an’ them wild horses. They can’t keep away from ’em, the horses can’t. There’s something about the—the tree itself that draws the horses: something in the wood, they say. You don’t never find any bark on a hoki-moki tree low down because the wild horses keeps rubbin’ themselves against it. Seems like they just can’t resist the—the sub-tile influence. It’s extraordinary.” Billy agreed emphatically that it was. “Are there many wild horses on the key?” he inquired after a moment. “Thousands. The natives catch ’em an’ train ’em. The King has more’n three hundred horses in his private stable, an’ the Queen she has about a hundred, an’ the Prince he’s got maybe thirty or forty, too.” The Captain applied a lighted match to his pipe and puffed blue smoke clouds into the spring sunlight. “They kill ’em for their hides, too,” he went on presently. “They make fine leather.” “I shouldn’t think they’d need leather,” said Billy, “being just savages.” “Savages!” The Captain viewed him reprovingly. “Don’t you ever let ’em hear you say that, son! Benighted, in a manner o’ speakin’, they may be, but they ain’t savages. As for leather, why, now, they make lots o’ uses o’ it: saddles an’ harnesses an’ travelin’ bags——” “Traveling bags!” “—An’ trunks.” The captain paid no heed to the interruption. “An’ here’s another peculiar thing. You may be able to explain it, but I can’t, an’ I never heard anyone who could. Them hoki-moki trees has just as much affinity for a horse-hide as they has for the horse himself. Lay a horse-hide saddle twenty feet away from a hoki-moki tree an’ just as soon as you lets go of it it’ll begin to move right over to the tree and try to rub itself against it! Now you explain that!” “But I can’t,” said Billy, wide-eyed. “It—it’s most—most extronry!” “It surely is!” declared the Captain. “What you might call one o’ the marvels o’ Science. I ain’t never—That the lot, Joe? Well, I guess it’s most dinner time, ain’t it? Talkin’ always gives me a powerful appetite an’ I’m plumb famished. Sing out to Steve to start that galley fire an’ get a hustle on him!” Billy’s thoughts dwelt a good deal for the rest of that day on Captain Ezra’s interesting discourse, and when he went to sleep it was to dream terribly complicated things about wild horses and hoki- moki trees and the fascinating inhabitants of Pirate Key who wore the scantiest attires but indulged themselves in traveling bags! Sunday was always a hard day to live through, for after church and Sunday school were past many empty hours stretched ahead. This Sunday, however, was not so bad, for Mr. Humbleton, the bank treasurer, came to call in the afternoon and brought Arthur Humbleton with him. Arthur was fourteen and a youth of affairs and position in the community, as became the son of a bank treasurer. For one thing, Arthur was captain of the Broadport Junior Baseball Team. Billy and Arthur were graciously allowed to retire from the front parlor and the society of their elders and found sanctuary on the little side porch where the chill of an easterly April breeze failed to penetrate. Billy was glad of the opportunity to talk to Arthur, for he had a request to make, and after several false starts he managed to make it. “I wish,” he said, after swallowing hard a couple of times, “I wish you’d let me play on the nine this year, Arthur.” Arthur Humbleton observed him frowningly. Then he shook his head. “I don’t see how I could, Billy,” he answered. “The team’s all made up, in the first place, and then you aren’t much of a player. Maybe next year——” “I can play in the outfield all right,” defended Billy eagerly. “Oh, most any fellow can catch a fly,” replied the other carelessly. “There’s more to baseball than just that, Billy. You’ve got to know how to run the bases and bat and lots of things.” “I can run bases just as fast as——” Billy paused. He had been going to say “as you can,” but diplomacy came to his aid. “As fast as Tom Wallace can,” he substituted. “Maybe, but you can’t bat a little bit,” responded Arthur triumphantly. “And you know you can’t.” “If I had more practice, Arthur——” “No, sir, you couldn’t ever be a real corking batter.” Arthur was kindly but firm. “A fellow has to have the batting eye. Of course I don’t say that maybe if you worked awfully hard this year and practiced every day you mightn’t be a lot better, but I don’t believe you’ll ever be a real star, Billy.” The subject, engrossing to both boys, continued for some time, and in the end it was agreed that Billy should become a sort of unofficial outfield substitute with the privilege of practicing with the nine sometimes and making himself useful chasing the long flies that infrequently went over Mr. Bannerman’s garden fence. As Mr. Bannerman was aged and crabbed and disliked seeing small boys wallowing across his asparagus bed in search of baseballs, the position assigned to Billy promised as much danger as honor. But he knew himself to be fast on his feet and knew Mr. Bannerman to be slow, and he accepted gratefully. Soon after that Arthur was summoned hurriedly by his father, so hurriedly that he left behind him an enticing blue paper-bound pamphlet entitled “How to Play Base Ball” which Billy discovered just before supper and which he surreptitiously studied later behind the shielding pages of “Travels in the Holy Land.” But he found it difficult to understand until he happened on a dozen pages at the end of the booklet devoted to advertisements of baseball goods. There were soul-stirring pictures and descriptions of mitts and gloves, bats and masks and balls. He admired and coveted, and mentally compared the prices set down against the articles with the contents of the little box in his top bureau drawer that was his bank. The comparison wasn’t encouraging. Billy sighed. And just then his eyes fell on a word that challenged attention. “Westcott’s Junior League Ball,” he read. “Regulation size and weight, rubber center, all-wool yarn, double cover of best quality selected horsehide. Warranted to last a full game without losing elasticity or shape.” Billy read it twice. Then he became thoughtful. After that he read the description of the baseball again and his eyes became big and round. Later, in bed, with the light from the electric lamp at the corner illuming the ceiling, he lay sleeping for a long hour, experiencing the triumph that thrills all great discoverers and inventors. The next morning he surprised every member of the household by being downstairs in advance of breakfast and with his shoes tied! His mother viewed him anxiously and felt his face but was unable to detect anything abnormal save, perhaps, a certain intensity of gaze and impatience of delay. There was a full half-hour between breakfast and school and Billy made the most of it. Captain Ezra was smoking his pipe on the wharf when Billy arrived, breathless, on the scene. “Well, well,” exclaimed the Captain. “Ain’t you round kind of early?” But there was scant time for amenities and Billy plunged directly into his business. “Are you going down South again pretty soon, sir?” he inquired anxiously. The Captain allowed that he was; as soon, in fact, as the new cargo was aboard, which, if he wasn’t saddled with the laziest crew on record, ought to be in about four days. “And are you going to Pirate Key?” Billy continued. The Captain blinked. “Well, I might,” he replied after slight hesitation. “Why?” “Because I want you to bring me a piece of that hoki-moki wood, sir, a piece big enough to make a bat. You see——” “A bat? What sort of a bat?” “Why, a baseball bat. Could you, do you think? It would have to be that long—” Billy stretched his arms—“and that big around—” Billy formed a circle with his small fingers—“and it oughtn’t to have any knots in it. Is hoki-moki very knotty, Captain Ezra?” “Knotty? N-no, I wouldn’t call it that. I——” He coughed and cast a troubled gaze toward the lighthouse point. “What was it you wanted it for, now?” “A baseball bat,” answered Billy, almost impatiently. “I thought if you could get me a piece big enough I could get Jerry Williams, over at Morris’s carpenter shop, to make it for me. Could you? Would it— would it be much trouble to you, sir?” “Why, n-no, only—hm—you see I ain’t plumb sure of gettin’ to Pirate Key this trip, Billy.” Billy’s face fell and Captain Ezra went on quickly. “But I ain’t sayin’ I won’t, you know. Fact is, it’s more’n likely I will. An’ if I do——” “Oh, will you please?” cried Billy, beaming. “How much would it cost, sir? I’ve only got twenty-two cents, but if you’d take that I’d pay you the rest when you came back.” He dug into a pocket, but the Captain waved the suggestion aside. “Shucks,” he said, “a little piece o’ wood ain’t goin’ to cost nothin’. Why, I guess I could bring off a whole tree if I wanted it. I guess there ain’t anything on that there island I couldn’t have for the askin’, Billy, the King an’ me bein’ so friendly. Tell you what I’ll do now. I’ll get ’em to cut a piece o’ that wood an’ make the bat for you right there. How’ll that be?” Billy looked dubious. “Why, that’s awfully kind, sir, but—but do you think they’d know how to make a baseball bat? Bats have to be made awf’ly partic’larly, Captain Ezra, or else they aren’t much good.” “Don’t you worry about that, son. They been makin’ their own bats on Pirate Key for years, an’ I guess there ain’t no better ones to be had.” “Why, do they play baseball there?” gasped the boy. “’Course they do! Leastways, they play what’s pretty near like it. The—the general idea’s similar. They’re plumb crazy about it, too. They got a eight-club league down there——” But at that moment the bell in the town hall clanged its first stroke and Billy fled. During the four days that the Molly and Kate remained at Forster’s Wharf, Billy and the Captain met twice and when the schooner finally sailed the Captain had full, detailed and most explicit instructions regarding that length of straight, well-seasoned hoki-moki wood that was to be brought back either in the rough or shaped into the Pirate Key idea of a baseball bat. After that there was nothing for Bill to do save await the return of the schooner. April gave place to May and the Broadport Juniors began to play Saturday afternoon games on the back common and to practice diligently on other days after school was over. Billy served a rigorous apprenticeship in the outfield, chasing flies that went over the heads of the regular players and several times scrambling over Mr. Bannerman’s fence and recovering the ball from under the rhubarb or from between the rows of early peas. So far fortune had attended him and he had invariably escaped with his life. Now and then he was allowed to take his turn with the batters and stand up at the plate while Waldo Hutchins pitched his famous “slow ones.” Practice is supposed to make perfect, but Billy was still a long way from perfection as a batsman. Nor could either he or Arthur Humbleton observe any great amount of improvement. But Billy persisted, consoling himself with rosy dreams of the future. Almost any day now the Molly and Kate might return bearing Billy’s Great Discovery. Meanwhile the Juniors won from Scalfield Grammar School, were defeated by the West Side Reds and were annihilated by the Downerport Eagles. And then, as it seemed to Billy, just in the nick of time to prevent a similar fate at the hands of that especial rival, the Broadport White Sox, the Molly and Kate tied up again at Forster’s Wharf! That was an eventful day in Billy’s life, eventful from the moment he heard the glad news to the moment that he was back at the house with the precious hoki-moki bat in his possession. He had scarcely heard Captain Ezra’s detailed and interesting account of the securing of the article. For once, anxious to put the bat to the test, Billy thought the Captain just the least bit loquacious! But he banished the thought almost instantly, blushing for its ungraciousness, and quite overwhelmed his benefactor with thanks ere he hurried away with the bat tightly clutched in hand and one jacket pocket bulging with a perfectly good “genuine horsehide” ball that had seen only two weeks’ service in practice and had been acquired from Captain Humbleton for fifteen cents. Subsiding, much out of breath, on the edge of the side porch, Billy once more examined his prize with eager eyes. As to shape it looked as fine as the best “wagon tongue” ever made. There was no doubt about it, those Pirate Key natives knew how to make a baseball bat! Billy was just a trifle disappointed about one thing, however, and that was the lack of novelty. To all appearance the bat was quite like any other bat except that the inscription “Genuine Hoki-Moki Wood” appeared half-way along its smooth length. The words were printed in uneven characters, and evidently with pen and ink, and the ink had run with the grain of the wood. The varnish was still new and just a bit sticky, but that was to be expected since varnish always dried slowly near salt water. Hoki-moki wood was, contrary to Billy’s preconceived idea, light instead of dark, and closely resembled ash. A surprising feature of the bat was the twine-wound handle. It seemed strange to Billy that the natives of Pirate Key should know of that refinement. His respect for them grew tremendously then and there. Having examined the bat to his heart’s content, he stood up and swung it experimentally. It proved the least bit heavier than he could have wished, but that wasn’t anything to trouble about. He had frequently heard Jack Cantrell express a preference for a heavy bat, and Jack was the hard-hitter of the Broadport Juniors. Remained now the supreme test, and Billy approached it falteringly. Suppose it failed! Suppose Captain Ezra’s tales of the peculiar properties of hoki-moki wood proved false! Billy felt that the disappointment would be more than he could bear! Nerving himself to the ordeal, he laid the bat at the edge of the porch, squeezed the horsehide ball from his pocket and deposited it with trembling fingers against the house. Seven feet separated ball and bat, and as he withdrew his fingers he gave a deep troubled sigh. For an instant it seemed that the experiment was to fail, and Billy’s heart sank sickeningly. But then, as he stepped back across the boards to the porch’s edge the miracle happened. Slowly, irresolutely the ball moved, rolled a few inches, stopped, went on, gathered momentum and traveled straight along a board until it bumped companionably against the hoki-moki bat! Billy shrieked his triumph and danced ecstatically on the mignonette bed. It was true! The Great Discovery was proved. Again he tried the experiment and again the ball yielded to the magic influence of the bat as the needle of a compass yields to the influence of the North Pole. Thrice the experiment worked perfectly. A fourth time the ball, having been placed further to the left, collided with the handle of the bat, jumped it and rolled over the edge of the porch into the flower bed. Billy waited for it to rise up and come back again, but that effort appeared beyond it. Considering that a distance of eighteen inches intervened between porch floor and flower bed, Billy felt that it would be asking too much of the ball. Anyway, it atoned a minute later by rolling nicely from house wall to bat with what seemed greater alacrity. Billy was more than satisfied. I feel that I ought to inform the reader of a fact that quite escaped Billy, which is that the outer edge of the side porch was fully an inch and a half lower than the inner, being so built that water would run off it. I doubt if Billy ever knew of this. Certainly the slope was not perceptible to an unsuspicious vision. I make no claim that the slope of the porch floor had anything to do with the remarkable behavior of the ball. I am willing to believe that the ball would have rolled across to the bat had the floor been perfectly level. I only mention the fact in the interest of truth. Later Billy sought the back yard and tried throwing the ball in the air and hitting it with the bat. At first this experiment proved less successful than the other, but presently he found, to his great delight, that he could hit almost every time! To be sure, he didn’t always hit just squarely, but he hit. That absorbing occupation came to an end when the ball went through a cellar window with a fine sound of breaking glass. Thereupon Billy recovered the ball and went innocently in to supper. That night, for fear of burglary, Billy slept with the hoki-moki bat beside him under the covers. The next day was Saturday and the day of the White Sox game. Billy spent most of the morning knocking the ball against the back yard fence and only desisted when Aunt Julia informed him from an upstairs window that she had a headache and would go crazy if he didn’t stop making all that noise. Billy stopped and went and sat on the side porch, with his feet in the mignonette and the hoki-moki bat hugged to his triumphant breast, and dreamed dreams worthy of Cæsar or Napoleon. The Broadport Juniors wanted to win to-day’s game, wanted to win it more than they wanted to win any other contest in a long and comprehensive schedule. The White Sox team was comprised of boys who lived on the Hill. The Hill was the town’s patrician quarter. Just about everyone who lived up there had an automobile and a chauffeur to drive it and wore their good clothes all the time. The juvenile residents of that favored locality were, in the estimate of the down-town boys, stuck-up and snobbish, and they had a fine opinion of their baseball prowess. The worst of it was that their opinion was justified, for the White Sox—the down-towners jeeringly called them the Silk Sox—usually beat almost every team they went up against! Last year the Juniors had played two contests with them and had been beaten decisively each time. And so Captain Arthur Humbleton and all the other boys of the Juniors and all their adherents— including mothers and brothers and sisters and an occasional father —were especially keen on a victory. And when, in the first of the sixth inning, the White Sox finally solved Waldo’s delivery and made three hits and, aided by an infield error, sent four runs over the plate the Juniors’ bright dream faded and despondency gloomed the countenance of Captain Humbleton and his doughty warriors. The White Sox had already held a one-run lead, the score at the start of the sixth having been 12 to 11, and now, with four more tallies added, they looked to have the contest safely on ice. Billy, his precious bat held firmly between his knees, occupied a seat on the substitute’s bench, a yellow-grained settee borrowed from the High School across the common. He had twice offered his services to Arthur and they had been twice refused, the second time with a scowl. Billy was absolutely certain that he could, if allowed to face the opposing batter, who hadn’t much but a fast ball to boast of, deliver wallops that would radically alter the history of the game. But the hoki-moki bat was no better than any little old sixty-cent stick so long as he was not allowed to use it. To his credit is the fact that he had determined, in case the White Sox still held the lead at the beginning of the ninth inning, to entrust the bat to others should Arthur still refuse his services. That was real self-denial, real patriotism. As much as Billy wanted to wield the wonderful hoki-moki bat himself victory for the team stood first. The friends of the Juniors clapped and cheered as “Wink” Billings went to bat in the last of the sixth, and the one who cheered the loudest was Captain Ezra Blake. The Captain had come at Billy’s earnest and repeated behest and had togged himself out wonderfully in honor of the occasion. The Captain did not, Billy suspected now, know a great deal about baseball, for he cheered just as loudly when a villainous White Sox rapped out a two-bagger as he did when one of the Juniors stole home from third. But it was very evident that the Captain’s intentions were of the best. The last of the sixth developed no runs for the Juniors, nor did the seventh add to the score of either side. In the eighth the White Sox captain got to third with two down and tried to tally on a bunt past the pitcher’s box. But shortstop ran in, scooped up the ball and nailed him a foot from the plate. The Juniors started their inning by a safe rap that placed Cantrell on first base. Myers sacrificed neatly and then the next man connected for a screeching liner that was too hot for the Sox second baseman and Cantrell scored the Juniors’ twelfth tally. But the score was still four runs to the advantage of the White Sox when Stone hit into a double and ended the inning. Captain Humbleton pretended a confidence he didn’t feel and assured the team that all they had to do now was hold the Sox and then bat out a victory. It sounded easy, but Billy felt defeat impending. He tried to get a word with Arthur before that youth hurried off to his infield position, but failed. The White Sox started by putting their third baseman on first in consequence of Waldo Hutchins’ inability to pitch strikes. Then a bunt was mishandled by the catcher and there were runners on first and second, and things looked very bad. The next player was thrown out, but the others moved up a base apiece. The infield crept closer. The White Sox left fielder tried hard to slug, missed two and finally popped up a silly little foul that dropped comfortably in the catcher’s mitt, and the Junior nine’s adherents cheered loudly, Captain Ezra’s voice dominating all like a fog siren. There was another period of doubt and anxiety when, after knocking the ball everywhere save between the foul lines, the Sox first baseman finally whaled out a long, arching fly. The bases emptied and the runners scuttled home, but Leo Smith arose to the occasion like a veteran—which he was not— and pulled down the ball. “Four to tie ’em and five to win!” shouted Arthur as he trotted in to the bench. “Come on now, fellows! Let’s get this! We can—— What is it, Billy? Don’t bother me now!” “I’ve got to, Arthur,” said Billy firmly, a tight clutch on the captain’s arm. “You’ve got to listen a minute. If you want to win this you must let me bat, Arthur. I can’t help hitting with this bat, honest, and——” “You’re up, Waldo! Work him for a base. Get it somehow!” Arthur tugged impatiently, but Billy held like glue. “You see, it’s a hoki-moki wood bat, Arthur, and hoki-moki wood has a—a infinity for horsehide. All you got to do is just swing the bat and the ball comes right up and hits it. It’s the greatest discovery of——” “What are you talking about?” demanded the captain. “Let’s see your old bat. ‘Hoki-Moki Wood,’ eh?” he jeered. “Where’d you get this contraption?” And, still holding him firmly, Billy told him, and in spite of his expression of incredulity Arthur was secretly a little bit impressed. “Oh, shucks,” he said, “I don’t believe it, Billy! It ain’t possible! ’Course, you might have luck——” He paused and frowned intently and then, with a short laugh, added: “Maybe I’ll give you a chance, Billy. We’ll see.” Billy had to be content with that. Meanwhile Waldo Hutchins had waited and walked. An attempted sacrifice, however, failed to work and Waldo was cut off at second. The runner was safe on first. With one gone the audience began to disperse slowly. Then the Juniors’ right fielder landed squarely and rapped past third and hope crept back into the breasts of his team-mates. The departing onlookers paused in their flight. The Sox second baseman let the throw from the pitcher pass unchallenged over his head and the runners advanced to second and third. The cheering grew frantic. The coachers shouted and danced. “Slim” Gaynor did his best but only laid the ball down in front of the plate and was tagged out before he had taken two strides toward his base. Two on, now, and two gone! Billy, his heart racing and jumping, watched Arthur anxiously. But Joe Ware was allowed to take his turn. Joe was an uncertain batter. The White Sox pitcher tempted him with a low one and with one on the outside, but Joe refused them. Then came a fast one that went as a strike. Then one that hit the dirt just back of the plate. The pitcher frowned and would have sent the next offering in the groove had not the catcher signalled for a pass. Joe walked to first, filling the sacks, and cheers filled the air. Arthur himself followed Joe Ware, and the bunt he trickled along the first base line was a veritable marvel, for it sent a tally across, moved runners from first and second and left Arthur himself safe on his bag! But three runs were still needed to tie and four to win, and there were two gone. Billy arose, pale but resolved on sacrifice. He meant to offer the precious hoki-moki bat to Steve Sawyer, next up, but as he moved toward the plate Arthur, dusting himself on first, saw him and recalled that half promise. And perhaps he had what he would have called a “hunch.” At all events his voice reached Billy just as he was about to present the bat to Steve’s notice: “All right, Billy! Hit it out! Let Billy bat, Steve!” And so Billy, with a fast-beating heart, went on to the plate and faced his fate. Surprise and condemnation floated from the bench in mutters. The Sox pitcher observed Billy’s small form with a puzzled frown. Then, noting the boy’s evident nervousness, he laughed in derision “See who’s here, Jim!” he called to his catcher. “Home-Run Baker, isn’t it?” “No, it’s Tris Speaker! Be good to him, Tom!” “All right! Try this one, kid!” The pitcher wound up. Billy pushed his bat around over his shoulder. On bases the three runners danced and shouted. The coachers yelled incessantly. The infield jabbered. But Billy didn’t hear a sound. Now the pitcher’s arm was shooting forward. The ball was singing its way toward him. He tried to watch it and couldn’t. But he swung the hoki-moki bat around just as hard as he knew how, putting every ounce of his strength into it, and something happened. There was a resounding blow, electric tingles shot up Billy’s arms, he staggered and then, first. Far into right field sped the ball, just inside the base line. In raced the runners. Billy raced too. Pandemonium assailed his ears. As he reached the first bag he sent a final look after the ball and his heart leaped with joy. Straight behind Mr. Bannerman’s garden fence it fell, right amongst the early peas and bush limas! “Take your time, Billy!” shouted the coach at first. “It’s a home run, kid!”
They never did find that ball, for Mr. Bannerman appeared on the scene most inopportunely, but it didn’t matter and no one cared. The Juniors had won, 17 to 16! The hoki-moki bat had proved itself! And Billy Mayes was a hero! There were unbelievers who denied to Billy’s famous bat any special virtue, but Billy knew what he knew and had seen what he had seen, and his faith was unshakable. But, and here is the sorry part of my tale, it was several years before Billy made another home run, for, although he became a regular member of the team and, as time passed, became a fairly dependable hitter, the hoki-moki bat had lost its cunning. It was not the bat’s fault, however. It was due to the fact that, owing to the war, baseballs were no longed covered with horsehide! THE TWO-MILER
W e were sure of winning that spring. John Blake, the manager of
the team, said that if we did not win he should walk home when school closed. And as John lives in the western part of Ohio and is a man of his word, you can see that we were pretty cocksure. We met Maynard College and Chamberlain College every June in what we at Preston called the “Tri-Track,” which was a quick way of saying Triangular Track Meet. The year before, Maynard had beaten us by five and a half points. Chamberlain usually did not produce a strong team, although it had a way now and then of upsetting our calculations in an irritating manner. We had been hard at work all the spring, and when the Saturday of the “Tri-Track” came we had seventeen men ready to do their best. The meet that year was at Chamberlain, and in consequence we put Chamberlain down for twenty points, five more than she had ever won. There were one hundred and seventeen points in the thirteen events; to win first place in any event counted five, second place three and third place one. As I say, we allowed Chamberlain twenty points, mostly seconds and thirds, although we did think that her man Cutler would capture first in the high jump. Then we put ourselves down for seven firsts. That made thirty-five points. We felt likewise sure of five seconds. That gave us fifteen points more, making fifty in all—more than enough to win. We conceded the rest to Maynard. Of those seven events in which we expected firsts, only one seemed in the least doubtful; that was the two-mile race. Carl Atherton, the captain of the team, had run the distance the year before in 10 minutes, 41⅘ seconds, and had cut that down a second this spring in practice. But all the year we had been hearing a good deal about a new runner at Maynard named Beckner, who
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