I Will Not Bring A Gun To School
I Will Not Bring a Gun to School.
I Will Not Kill the Kid's Who Rule.
I Will Not Shoot Them in the Heart.
I Will Not Blow Their Brains Apart.
I Will Not Shoot into a Throng.
I Will Not Kill Because it's Wrong.
'¦
'Check this out!'
Russell slapped a sheet of paper, face down, on Jamie's desk. Through the thin sheet, he could read the bold print on the opposite side.
'Sevitalrepus'¦?'
Jamie stumbled over the unfamiliar word.
'Superlatives!' Russell corrected as he flipped the paper over in agitation.
'Why are you showing me this?'
'Because of'¦'
Russell jabbed his finger at a spot near the bottom of the page.
''¦This!'
Jamie's eyes followed Russell's finger.
15. Quietest: Jamie Pelleschi and Linda Roy
'Quietest?'
Russell patted Jamie reassuringly on the back.
'Don't worry. Quietest is only a code word.'
'For what?'
'Creepiest. Ah! To finally be acknowledged by one's peers!'
Jamie glanced up at Russell.
'What did you get?'
'Nothing'¦I was hoping for the coveted 'Best Hair' award'¦but it went to Marie Newcombe.'
Russell glared across the room at Marie, whose hair was looking particularly lustrous.
'Do you think if she died, I'd win by default?'
'It doesn't hurt to dream'¦' Jamie muttered as he looked up, catching Russell attempting to flick his curly, blonde hair over his shoulder in a characteristically Marie way, only to look like he had sudden-onset Tourettes.
The school P.A. system crackled to life:
'Attention Students. First period has been cancelled for a school wide assembly presented by The Civil Rights Team and Faces Against Racism. Will the following homerooms head to the auditorium: 103, 104, 112 A and B, 117'¦'
Jamie and Russell made up the end of the line as their homeroom filed into the auditorium.
'Look on the bright side. At least you're not alone!'
'How do you figure?' Jamie asked as he stumbled over a foot as they sidestepped toward their seats.
'You and Linda can huddle together against the harsh winds of social ostracism'¦'
'Linda's deaf, Russ.'
'Oh'¦I thought all that hand waving was just a girl thing!'
'¦
[Scene 1. A Private High School. A hallway
.]
Enter Beth [Varsity Cheer Captain] and Megan [Junior Class Secretary]
Beth. Hi, Megan.
Megan. Hi, Beth. How was your weekend?
Beth. It was great. I went to a party!
Megan. A party! Did you make any new friends?
Beth. Well, there was this one boy. He was really cute and super nice!
Megan. Does he go to this school? What is his name?
Beth. No, he goes to a public school. His name is Javier.
Megan. Javier? Is he Mexican?
Beth. Yes. He asked me to a movie this weekend.
Megan. Beth, you can't date a Mexican. They're only interested in sex and all their friends sell drugs. He's probably an illegal alien!
Voices from offstage. STOP!
[The Girls Freeze.]
Enter David [Civil Rights Team Captain]
David. [Aside to Audience] Is Megan right that Beth shouldn't date Javier? Are Megan's assumptions about Javier's character warranted? What do you think Megan should have said?
'Beth's HOT!' a boy toward the back of the room yelled, triggering a ripple of similar catcalls and laughter throughout the auditorium. Order did not return until two teachers escorted the culprit from the room.
David. Action!
Exit David.
[Girls Unfreeze.]
Megan. Is he Mexican?
Beth. Yes, he is.
Megan. Wow! What an interesting culture. Maybe he can teach you to make tortillas con queso y frijoles.
Beth. I didn't know you could speak Spanish, Megan!
Megan. Let's go to the library right now and learn more about Mexico! [Exeunt.]
Russell was one of the few to clap as the girls left the stage.
'I smell an Oscar!'
Jamie didn't have time to reply as Mr. Ripley, the assistant Vice Principal, sauntered across the stage.
'As I'm sure you all know, school shootings are becoming all too commonplace. In these dark times, it becomes necessary for the school board to take precautions. Backpacks and purses will no longer be allowed in the hall or in classrooms. Oversized and baggy clothing is also prohibited. These items should be kept either at home or stowed in your lockers for the entirety of the school day. Also, an extra counselor has been added to the staff to accommodate students struggling with anger. We encourage all students prone to acts of violence, most especially the victims of bullying, to take the time to meet with her. The school board, the faculty, and I ask for your individual cooperation to
make this school a safer place.'
'¦
'Can you believe this?'
A poster with the new school policies had been plastered on Russell's locker and he was regarding it with an evil glint in his eyes. Jamie was feeling lukewarm about the whole business.
'It sucks. Now we have to make an extra trip between classes to get our books.'
'That's not even the worst of it. What if I was allergic to bees?'
'You're not.'
'But what if I was? Where would I keep my pills? My locker's too far away if I went into shock!'
'You could wear one of those necklaces with a locket that holds the pills.'
'For Christ's sake! I'm not a girl.'
'It could be a manly locket'¦'
What if I was allergic to metal? Wearing a metal chain would give me a rash!'
'No one said the chain had to be metal. It could be some kind of fabric. Bric-a-brac for all I care.'
'Now you're just being cruel, Jamie. You know how easily I chafe!'
'Then just put the pills in your pocket!'
'Pockets aren't reliable. They get holes and things fall out. Remember that day it was really hot and I wanted a soda?'
'Vaguely.'
'I was so glad because earlier I'd found some quarters in the couch, but when I reached into my pocket, they were gone?'
'Oh yeah. I remember that.'
'And I begged you for money, but you refused to give me a cent, even though you had like twenty dollars?'
'That money was for my optometrist appointment! My mom would have killed me if I had bought a stupid soda with it!'
'Oh! Is that how it's gonna be?'
Jamie opened his mouth to retort, but was quickly cut off.
'No! Don't answer that. Why don't I just cover myself with honey and you can use a wasp's nest for target practice. You'd like that, wouldn't you?!'
'Are people who are allergic to bees, allergic to wasps too?'
'I don't know. I'll have to ask my doctor.'
'You're not even allergic.'
'Oh yeah'¦'
There was a moment of silence in which Jamie fiddled with the latch on his locker door.
'By the way, my mom said that if it's okay with your mom, you can have one of Mr. Rooble's kittens when they're born.'
'Cool.'
'¦
Jamie met Russell at his locker after school.
'I've got some bad news.'
'Sock it to me.'
'Marie Newcombe's birthday is the same as yours.'
'She's a Virgo, too?'
Jamie shrugged.
'Well, that explains a lot'¦'
Russell continued shoveling crumpled papers out of his locker and onto the floor.
'You don't get it. That's not the worst part.'
Russell looked up expectantly, though nonplussed.
'Her party is on the same day as yours.'
'And?'
'Well, everyone's gonna go to her party'¦and not yours. I heard she hired a DJ and a caricaturist ' '
'Big deal! My mom's ordering a sheet cake!'
' ' and a disco ball, and one of those chocolate fountains ''
'It serves sixty!'
' ' oh yeah, and a mime.'
Russell froze, though his head and most of his upper body were in his locker.
'A mime?'
His voice resonated hollowly in the metal locker.
'Yeah'¦'
'We both know I can't compete with a mime.'
'Yeah.'
Russell brightened.
'I'd better tell mom ix-nay on the sixty pieces. You think fifty would be good?'
Jamie was suddenly transfixed by a scrap of paper at Russell's feet and bent to pick it up.
'Is that your Chemistry quiz from last week? Did you put A for number 7?'
Grabbing Jamie by the arm, Russell hastily kicked the crumpled paper out of his reach.
'What? Forty?'
'I don't know'¦it's your call, man.'
'Thirty?'
Jamie shrugged noncommittally.
'Twenty?'
'hmmmmmmmmmm'¦?'
'TEN?'
'Perfect. Who wants casual acquaintances at their birthday anyway? All those impersonal gifts'¦what a drag!'
'That's the kind of crap loser's tell themselves to feel less pathetic.'
'Is it working?'
A familiar, albeit hoarse, voice interrupted their confidence and disrupted Russell's work as its owner casually shut the locker, missing Russell's outstretched finger by mere inches.
'Darrell! Where the Hell have you been?'
'Yeah. It's like you disappeared.'
Darrell pointed at his skinny throat, in which his Adam's apple stuck out at a sharp angle.
'Bronchitis. What'd I miss?'
'Nothing much'¦' Russell began as he quickly spun the dial on his lock.
'Raglan gave us a pop quiz last Tuesday, I bought a new shirt, Jamie reckons he saw a rabid dog on the way to school yesterday'¦'
The locked clicked open and Russell added to the pile of trash surrounding their feet.
''¦Marie Newcombe is officially my least favorite person, and the school board encourages us not to bring any grenades, throwing stars, or other weapons we might filch from Daddy's gun cabinet to Show and Tell'¦you know, the usual.'
'You guys wanna come to my house? I have something that might interest you.'
'Sure, Darrell.'
Russell stood back from his locker, prompting Jamie and Darrell to do the same. Except for his jacket and backpack, which he now grabbed, it was completely empty. He kicked the door shut.
'My mom's right. There's nothing more satisfying than a job well done.'
'¦
Russell posed a philosophical question as they walked the few blocks to Darrell's:
'I know people can be legally blind, but can someone be illegally blind?'
'What does that even mean?'
'You know, a blind person who uses his powers for evil?'
'What evil can a blind person do?'
'Nothing. That's the point, Darrell. Legally blind people are harmless.'
'Oh.'
'Illegally blind people'¦now that's something else entirely!'
'I see'¦'
Now it was Darrell's turn:
'Have you guys ever thought that dog's nipples are arranged in Braille, and that when they lick themselves, they're reading secret messages with their tongues?
'No, and now I'll never be able to look at Mr. Roobles the same way again.'
The trio walked in silence for a block before Jamie finally broke.
'What's so bad about being quiet?'
'Nothing'¦' Russell said, a smile on his face, 'besides the social stigma and the threat of vocal chord atrophy.'
Darrell snorted from Jamie's other side.
'Why isn't there a category for Most Grotesque, or Slovenly, or Pungent?'
'Because the principal knew I'd win all three and people would just get jealous.'
A wicked grin was plastered on Russell's face. Darrell's laughter quickly dissolved into a wracking cough.
'Stop being a baby. We have to get the patient home.'
'¦
Darrell's uncle, Laird, opened the front door on the seventh knock. Laird's shoulder length brown hair was tied back, making the bald spots up front stand out in comparison. Jamie and Russell scrunched their noses at the strong scent of booze emanating off the man.
'You boys into Dungeons?'
'Only as a form of torture.'
'He means Dungeons and Dragons.' Darrell said glumly for Russell's benefit.
Jamie nodded weakly though he had made a promise to himself that he would never get sucked into the D and D crowd.
'Never heard of it.'
Uncle Laird looked at Russell like he had never met a fifteen-year-old boy who didn't find him an inspiration, and wasn't quite sure what to do.
'When I was your age, I was up to my elbows in women.'
Laird wiped Cheezit crumbs off his Pokemon t-shirt, which was stretched uncomfortably tight across his midsection.
'Come on, guys.' Darrell sighed, beckoning Jamie and Russell toward the stairs.
'Watch where he puts his hands, boys!'
'Don't listen to him,' Darrell said in an undertone as they climbed the stairs.
They could hear the couch squeak as Laird settled himself in front of the television.
'He's a bum'¦'
'¦
'Is this 'the sick room'?'
Darrell's room was small. In one corner was a bed and next to that was a thin cot with a duffel bag, approximate in length, beneath it. The only other accessory worth any mention was a lunch-sized paper bag full to brimming with wadded tissues.
'Don't sit on the cot!' Darrell warned Jamie, who was tactfully keeping his distance from the tissues but still trying to look casual.
'It's Uncle Laird's.'
'What would he do if I put my foot on his pillow?'
Russell stood with one foot hovering inches above the cot. Something wet and brown clung to the sole of his sneaker.
'He'd shoot you.'
Jamie and Russell burst into a fit of laughter.
'That's what he tells me every night before we go to bed.'
Jamie looked guiltily out the room's only window, the panes of which served as a cemetery for countless insects.
'How comforting. So, what did you want to show us?'
'You have to promise not to tell first.'
Darrell quickly walked to the door and pressed his ear firmly against it. He didn't retreat to his bed until they all heard his uncle's uproarious laughter at the program he was watching.
'I don't know'¦'
'Come on, Jamie,' Russell stepped in front of his dubious comrade and crossed his fore and middle finger behind his back.
'Of course we wont tell.'
'Jamie?'
Darrell looked earnestly at him with a hardness in his eyes that Jamie had never seen before.
'Fine. I promise.'
Not wasting a second more, Darrell quietly reached into the duffel bag beneath his uncle's cot. His hand found its target and he slowly lifted both from the bag.
'Holy Shit!'
'What is that?' Jamie asked breathlessly as he backed away until he hit the door. He unconsciously crossed both arms in front of his chest.
Darrell didn't answer. He walked to his bed, sat perched on the edge, and cradled the handgun in his lap.
'You know, I was sick for three weeks and the only person who came to visit me was Lisa Simmons. Of course, she talked about you the whole time,' Darrell lifted one hand in Russell's direction.
'Try to be a little nicer to her, Russell. I think she's headed for a mental breakdown, all that shit with the Bible and stuff'¦'
Russell nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on the gun on Darrell's lap.
''¦and she only came to bring me my homework. She wouldn't stop talking about the Soup Kitchen though, and how bringing me my Geometry homework was no less noble than slopping pork n' beans on trays for homeless people.'
Darrell said all this very calmly and matter-of-factly, all while staring at the gun. Looking up, he smiled.
'Don't worry. I'm not going to shoot you guys. You're practically idiots. I didn't expect you to come visit me.'
His smile faded.
'It would have been nice if someone had.'
'Are there bullets in that thing?'
Darrell glanced in the corner where Jamie was standing.
'A few.'
'What are you going to do?'
'I'm not sure.'
'What's wrong with Russell?'
Russell hadn't said a word for the longest time since Jamie had known him. He smacked his lips wetly, as if his tongue was suddenly too large for his mouth and his body was attempting to reject it.
'I think you scared the shit out of him!'
Darrell relaxed and his grip on the gun loosened.
'You scared me too.'
Darrell stared at Jamie.
'Put that thing away.'
'¦
'Just so you know, I was only thinking of gunning down my uncle,' Darrell reassured Jamie as they walked toward Russell's house. Russell hadn't quite gotten over his shock yet and was shaking his hands and his head at regular intervals, as if trying to regain feeling in each.
Darrell elbowed Russell in the ribs.
'And maybe Marie Newcombe."
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