Ch. 4: School Shooting

Back to The Men in Brown

             Chris   was   tired   the   next   day. The   gorgeous   weather   had   ended   and   it   was   pleasantly   cool   with   a   bright   warm   sun. He   was   glum   all   through   breakfast.

             “Any   more   dreams?”   Stephen   asked   him   as   they   were   getting   ready.

             “Yup.”   said   Chris.

             “Want   to   tell   me?”

             “Yeah.”   said   Chris. “I   was   staring   at   a   weird   hut,   straw   roof,   you   know,   sunk half   in   the   ground,   like   something   from   a   period   film   of   the   Dark   Ages. So   much   moss   grew   on   the   walls   I   couldn’t   see   whether   they   were   wood   or stone,. Huge   trees   leaned   overhead. The   King   was   speaking   to   the   Seven   Sleepers:   I   couldn’t   see   the   army. I   will   enter   alone,    he   bade   them.    Do   not   fail   to   call   us   at   need,   Sire,   one   answered:   Amandil,   I   think. My   eyes   sort   of   zoomed   in   after   him,   like   a   walking   camera. Inside   there   was   one   window. A   fireplace,   and   table. Moss   lay   thick   as   dust   and   the   ashes   were   grown   with   fungi   and   damp   with   moss. No   living   man   had   dwelt   here. Yet   a   man   stood,   an   armored   warrior   with   a   huge   curved   sabre   in   its’   sheath   held   in   his   uplifted   hands. The   visor   was   down. I   guessed   it   was   a   suit,   like   in   a   museum,   but   it   wasn’t   rusty.

             “And   Wayham   spoke,   but   he   wasn’t   talking   to   anyone   I   could   see. ''Where   is   Matjas? ''   he   said. ''Where   is   the   holy   Matthas? Where   is   the   hope   of   Hungary?    And   the   armour   answered,   and   the   voice   sounded   like   it   came   out   of   a   tomb:   Do   the   ants   still   crawl   up   the   peak   of   St. Christopher? ''

“And   Wayham   said,   ''Yea,   but   there   are   few. Where   is   Matjas? Where   is   the   King   Matthias?    And   the   armour   said:   Do   the   ants   still   crawl   over   the   peak   of   St. Magdelene? And   Wayham   answered,    They   do,   but   only   twos   and   threes. Tell   me,   where   is   Matjas? Where   is   the   black   army? ''

             “And   the   armour   said   a   third   time, ''   Do   the   ants   still   crawl   up   the   peak   of   St. Urh?    And   Wayham   answered,   Not   a   single ant   alive   now   crawls   upon   that   peak. Tell   me   how   to   speak   to   Matthew. Tell   me   how   to   summon   him.   And   the   armour   said,   If   the   ants   are   failing,   the   time   is   close. Look   through   the   window,   if   you   would   Matjas   see. Take   out   my   sabre,   if   Matjaz   you   would   speak''. And   Wayham   looked   out   of   the   window,   and   I   could   see   a   big   mountain, I   think   it   was   named   Peca,   but   nothing   else. He   took   the   sabre   and   drew   it   an   inch   out   of   its’   sheath:   the   thing   was   broad,   and   the   blade   was   all   luminous   white. There   was   a   violent   tremor   in   the   ground,   and   the   earth   shook,   and   far   underneath   I   heard   the   groaning   of   the   stone. In   the   window   I   could   see   the   mountain-face   tearing   right   apart,   a   ragged   gap   like   ancient   jaws   opening   sideways. Inside   there   was   a   dark   cave,   and   inside   the   cave   about   a   hundred   knights   in   full   mail   armour   with   strange   and   fearsome   weapons,   seated   upon   black   horses,   and   weapons   and   mail   were   also   black. And   Wayham   drew   the   sabre   half   out,   and   the   army’s   eyes   opened,   and   blue   light   flamed   in   their   eyes   and   in   the   eyes   of   their   steeds. Then   he   drew   it   all   the   way,   and   horses   neighed,   and   men   readied   weapons,   and   the   black   army   issued   from   the   cave.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You   know   in   dreams   you   suddenly   go   from   one   place   to   another   and   it   seems   quite   normal? It   happened   this   time,   and   we   were   in   the   cave,   and   I   thought   at   first   it   was   the   one   with   that   Redbeard   emperor   because   a   king   was   sitting   at   a   stone   table   with   a   long   beard   that   pretty   much   covered   it;   but   the   hair   was   white,   and   besides   the   clothing   was   different,   and   so   was   the   face. The   table   had   a   sort   of   raised   edge,   forcing   the   beard   as   it   grew   to   coil   round   and   round   the   table,   and   Wayham   counted   with   the   sabre   tip,   and   it   had   circled   the   table   no   less   than   nine   times. And   Matjas   spoke,   in   the   sepulchral voice   of   the   armor   in   the   hut:''   Whom   art   thee? Why   draw   thou   this?   And   Wayham   spoke:   Thou   art   King,   but   I   am   Overking,   Wayham   son   of   Finteine   Ancient. I   command   you. God   commands   you. Aid   us,   Matjas,   in   this   hour!   And   the   king   got   to   his   feet,   and   he   said,   For   Our   Sweet   Lord’s   sake   do   I   come   to   thee,   my   liege   master,   with   my   black   army. Let   us   rise!” ''

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   bus   had   pulled   up   just   as   he   said   the   last   two   sentences,   forcing   Chris   to   say   them   very   rapidly. Stephen   got   on   the   bus,   and   Chris   settled   dejectedly   back   to   wait   for   his   own   five   minutes   later.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             His   glum   mood   didn’t   improve   when   he   had   to   slip   past   the   Cluster   Bomb   to   get   to   the   boys’   room. That   was   what   he   called   them. A   cluster   of   bigger   boys,   always   in   gym   shorts,   two   of   them   black. They   seemed   to   be   eyeing   him   far   more   than   usual. He   closed   the   partition   door   and   felt   a   little   better.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             He   had   just   flipped   open   the   lock   when   he   saw   them   coming   in.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Christopher   clicked   the   stupid   shiny   lever   closed. Like   that   was   going   to   help. One   tug,   he   was   sure,   would   pop   it   right   out   of   its’   socket.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             He   could   hear   their   light,   husky,   brushy   voices,   laughing   a   little. They   peered   from   door   to   door. They   were   pausing. He   knew   they   had   seen   him. They   were   waiting   him   out.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Two   could   play   at   that. He   put   the   lid   on   the   toilet   and   sat   on   it,   slipping   off   his   backpack. He   might   be   able   to   swing   it.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Period   bell   sounded. Still   they   hadn’t   given   up. He   could   tell   from   their   voices   they   were   getting   impatient. One   tugged   at   his   door,   sharply. Sure   enough   the   handle   popped   right   out.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Chris   charged,   plowing   over   one   boy. But   he   was   small,   and   there   were   about   six   other   boys,   and   in   exactly   three   seconds   he   was   pinned   to   the   floor.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Hey,   little   dweeb,”   said   one,   “I   hear   you   walked   out   of   class   the   other   day.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Too   queer   for   you,   huh,   little   ‘phobe? Phobee?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Yeah,   we   gays   don’t   like   it   when   you’re   rude. You   gotta   be   inclusive.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You’re   Christian,   ain’t   you?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Let’s   give   him   a   little   poke.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You   nuts,   man? What   if   somebody   comes   in?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Then   we   deal   with   ‘em. Get   his   pants   down. We’ll   make   him   queer   today.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Yeah,   we’re   gonna   queer   you   good.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Chris   was   pinned   on   his   back. Accordingly   he   was   able   to   see   the   wall,   cinder   blocks   painted   dull   locker-room   tan,   porcelain   tiles   in   the   same   color   going   partway   up. He   was   also   able   to   see   the   said   tiles   explode   inward,   making   a   fist-sized   hole,   and   then   the   boy   tugging   at   his   belt   was   toppling   aside,   a   huge,   preposterous,   black   arrow   with   black   feathers   sticking   a   foot   from   his   chest   and   a   foot   from   his   back. Like   a   snake   the   arrow   wriggled   out   of   his   wound   and   shot   back   of   itself   up   into   the   air.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             And   into   the   quiver   of   the   costumed   man   standing   above   them.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             There   was   a   mad   scramble   as   the   six   boys   yet   alive   got   off   Christopher   and   scrabbled   up   against   the   wall. The   stranger   bent   down   and   lifted   Chris   to   his   feet. He   was,   the   boy   saw,   garbed   in   forest   green   and   brown,   strange   tunics   and   jerkins   and   leggings   producing   an   effect   not   unlike   Strider,   heightened   by   the   huge   black   bow   in   his   left   hand. It   was   a   longbow,   the   ends   curving   back,   wrought   of   black   yew   inlaid   with   silver. Slowly   Christopher   raised   his   eyes   and   looked   up   into   the   man’s   face. And   at   once   he   knew   it   was   no   man. The   luminous   blond   hair,   the   diamond-glittering   eyes,   the   beauty   of   the   strong   face—

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             There   was   a   concerted   roar   as   the   Cluster   Bomb   recovered   and   charged   the   big   stranger. Chris   felt   a   stab   of   panic. These   guys   were   BIG. Some   were   on   the   football   team. Others   were   wrestling   pros. They weren’t   the   only   gays   in   the   school,   of   course;   the   others   tended   to   be   sissy   nerds,   but   these   were   the   worst.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   voice   of   the   big   stranger   sounded,   clear   and   bell-like,   not   even   strained   as   he   moved   like   lightning. “You   are   no   men.”   his   voice   cut   through   the   roar. “You   are   no   longer   even   natural. You   have   sinned   against   nature. One   of   the   four   sins   crying   out   to   Heaven   for   vengeance   lies   in   you.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   last   of   the   big   teens   dropped   to   the   floor,   his   head   crushed   by   a   single   blow   of   the   stranger’s   fist. The   others   sprawled   in   grotesque   attitudes,   necks   or   ribs   crushed   right   in.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Come.”   he   said. “We   have   to   get   you   home. There   will   be   no   more   school   for   you. They   did   not   do   this   on   their   own. The   Dragon   sent   them.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Who—who   are   you?”   panted   Chris   as   the   stranger   spread   his   huge   cloak   over   him   and   hurried   him   down   the   hall.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I   am   Beleg   Strongbow.”   he   said   simply. “And   I   am   of   the   Men   in   Brown.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You’re   not   a   man.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “No,”   said   Beleg   as   he   herded   the   boy   to   a   side   door,   “I   am   Elven. Now   hush. I   can   defeat   sight,   but   not   hearing.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             They   were   silent   as   they   hurried   down   the   hallways   of   Gilbert   High. Beleg   paused   several   times   to   whip   one   of   the   huge   black   arrows   from   his   quiver   and   fire   it   at   various   random   spots   of   the   ceiling. The   security   cameras, of   course. Though   if   they   had   already   seen   them,   the   cameras   were   likely   linked   to   a   central   database   and   destroying   them   was   futile.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             At   last   they   were   outside. They   had   had   to   steer   around   people   who   apparently   could   not   see   them,   but   now   Beleg   picked   up   Chris   as   easily   as   a   sack   of   leaves,   and   they   headed   uphill   into   the   pines.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Put   me   down,   I   can   walk.”   protested   Chris.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “But   can   you   walk   without   prints,   as   I   can?”   the   Elf   replied. “Can   you   walk   and   leave   no   smell,   as   I   can?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Chris   shut   up,   and   the   big   Elf   moved   on   like   a   brown   ghost   through   the   forest.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “What   are   we   going   to   do   now?”   Chris   asked,   when   they   had   gone   some   ways.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “A   private   tutor   would   be   the   best   thing,   I   believe.”   said   Beleg. “As   a   matter   of   fact   John   Wimbledon   arranged   to   meet   your   mother   at   the   library   and   engage   her   in   talk. They’re   getting   along   quite   well,   he   tells   me,   and   if   she   listens   she   may   get   the   idea   on   her   own. I   hope   so. We   have   one   already   arranged   for   both   of   you.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Stephen   doesn’t   Dream.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “But   you   tell   him   your   Dreams. My   companion   is   fetching   him   even   now:   we   have   watched   you   for   some   time,   and   this   attack   was   not   unexpected. I   will   take   you   home,   but   listen   to   me: ''   Do   not   tell   your   mother   you   were   in   that   bathroom. ''   Cornello   owns   the   police. There   will   be   a   murder   investigation,   as   well   as   goodness   knows   how   much   sob   stuff   and   publicity;   and   I   do   not   think   my   shooting   of   the   cameras   entirely   defeated   them. Arheled   will   have   to   ask   them   for   their   footage. Do   you   understand? Tell   only   Stephen.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Chris   nodded.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Your   mother   is   a   good   woman,   but   not   one   who   understands.”   said   Beleg   softly. “She   trusts   police. She   denies   dragons. Be   careful   with   her,   and   do not   burden   her   with   secrets.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Stephen   headed   down   the   hall. Children   thronged   it,   an   odd   rainbow   of   jumbled   colorful   shirts,   denim   blue,   bare   legs   and   arms,   skirts   and   backpacks. It   was   both   better   and   worse   in   a   crowd. Better,   because   he   could   blend   in. Worse,   because   his   enemies   could,   too.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             He   knew   they   were   stalking   him. The   bullies   had   left   him   alone   before,   but   today   he   had   seen   them   standing   together   and   he   knew,   suddenly   and   surely,   that   they   were   out   for   him. Mindy   had   buttonholed   him   during   recess,   to   his   delight,   and   they   had   wandered   along   out   by   the   street,   chattering. But   Mindy   was   not   here   now,   and   he   could   not   see   in   the   crowd,   and   might   bump   into   one   of   Them   at   any   minute.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             It   didn’t   help   when he   got   to   the   classroom,   only   to   realize   it   was   the   one   Mom   wanted   him   to   walk   out   of. The   one   where   they   were   teaching   about   homosexuals. The   one   where   they   preached   sodomy.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “That   class   is   so   gay.”   Mindy   had   snorted.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             He   had   already   gotten   to   his   desk. Usually   he   was   able   to   hide   in   a   closet   or   something   until   it   was   over,   but   it   looked   like   today   he   was   going   to   have   to   face   it. He   raised   his   hand.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I   have   to   go   to   the   bathroom.”   he   said.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I’m   sorry,   Stephen,   but   our records   tell   us   you   haven’t   attended   this   class   yet,   and   it’s   mandatory   for   all   students   now. You’ll   just   have   to   cross   your   legs   and   wait.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Mom   says   I   can’t   stay   for   it.”   Stephen   said   flatly.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Well,   too   bad,   honey,   your   mother   isn’t   here   right   now. She   sent   you   here   so   that   you   could   listen   to   us   teach   you,   and   that’s   what   I’m   going   to   do. What’s   she   got   against   it? Is   she   Christian?”   The   sudden   acridity   in   her   tone   stunned   Stephen   to   the   core.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Uh,   yeah,   yeah   we   are.”   he   stammered.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You   Christians   are   the   worst   homophobes   of   them   all!”   she   exclaimed. For   some   reason   she   had   suddenly   gotten   very   agitated;   she   was   red   in   the   face   and   trying   to   breathe   calmly. “After   class   you   will   report   to   the   principal   immediately,   and   I   will   recommend   you   for   detention! There   are   a   few   books   I   will   make   sure   you   read.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Stephen   ran   out   of   the   room.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             It   was   pretty   clear-cut. You   obeyed   your   parents. If   your   teachers   were   evil,   you   disobeyed   them. But   he   was   really   frightened   now,   because   he   knew   that   unless   he   made   it   out   that   door   and   fled   the   school   forever,   he   was   certain   to   be   persecuted   for   the   rest   of   the   term. He   sprinted   down   the   halls   till   he   reached   his   locker,   opening   it   with   frantic   hands   and   hastily   stuffing   everything   in   his   bag.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             It   was   as   he   was   slipping   down   the   now-deserted   halls   that   they   caught   him.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             They   must   have   lingered   in   a   broom   closet   themselves. At   any   rate,   there   they   were,   blocking   the   aisle. One   or   two   big   husky   kids;   the   rest   wearing   tight   jeans   like   a   girl’s   and   pretty   faces,   with   what   even   looked   like   makeup   on   one   boy. And   every   one   of   them   was   wearing   something   purple. No,   not   purple. Lavender.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Hey,   Christie.”   grinned   one   boy.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Yeah,   Christie,   little   Christian   Christie! Hey,   come   back,   little   runt! We   got   something   forrrr   youuu!”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Stephen   spun   around   and   broke   into   a   run.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             He   heard   them   pounding   up   the   hall. They   were   laughing,   like   it   was   baseball   or   a   game   of   tag   or   something. But   to   be   It   in   this   game   was   death.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             He   skidded   around   a   corner. They   were   catching   up. Could   he   make   it   to   the   door   in   time? He   might   have   a   better   chance   outside.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Someone   slung   a   backpack   at   his   legs,   and   he   fell. They   caught   up,   holding   him   down,   laughing   gustily. “Give   him   a   little   roughing.”   “Show   some   gay   love   to   the   little   homophobe.”   “Yeah,   kiss   him,   Bobbie,   before   ya   show   ‘im   what   we   do   to   Christies   around   here.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “What   the   heck?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             They   were   reeling   and   stumbling   all   around   him. Heads   flew   of   themselves   off   of   shoulders. Arms   popped   off   like   Lego   sets,   trailing   gross   fountains   of   redness. For   a   moment   Stephen   wondered   if   he   was   really   still   asleep,   in   some   incredible   nightmare:   and   then   he   saw   the   black   sword   protruding   from   the   chest   of   the   last   boy   alive,   and   the   one   who   bore   it.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             A   towering   man   in   dark   brown   and   dark   gray-green   Ranger-style   clothes   wiped   a   huge   black   sword   clean   on   the   nearest   body. The   edges   flashed   with   a   pale   light. Grabbing   Stephen   he   hurled   open   a   door   and   raced   down   a   corridor.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Wh-what’s   going   on?”   panted   Stephen.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Cornello   has   struck.”   the   man   said   tersely. His   voice   was   grim   and   deep. “So   we   have   struck   back. You   should   be   thanking   me.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You—you   killed   them.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Do   you   even   want   to   know   what   they   would   have   done   to   you?”   the   man   said   fiercely. “Christ   decreed   a   punishment   for   them   worse   than   being   dropped   into   the   sea   with   a   stone   necklace. I   was   merciful.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Who   are   you? Are   you   kidnapping   me?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             The   man   paused. They   were   in   an   old   maintenance   passage,   cement   walls   stained   with   damp. A   metal   grille   was   in   the   floor,   and   the   splashing   of   water   sounded   from   beneath. With   a   violent   wrench   the   man   ripped   the   bars   right   out   of   the   cement.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Only   to   free   you.”   he   answered. “For   I   am   Túrin,   son   of   Húrin,,   and   I   am   of   the   Men   in   Brown.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             He   slipped   into   the   drain   with   a   splash. Stephen   scrambled   in,   Túrin   helping   him   down. He   was   calf-deep   in   cold   stream   water,   in   a   small   dark   tunnel.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “This   is   the   only   way   out   of   the   school   after   what   I   have   done.”   Túrin   said. “At   all   costs   their   eyes   must   not   see   you   with   me.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Stephen   stumbled   forward,   grasping   Túrin’s   jacket. The   passage   seemed   to   be   rough   masonry   and   was   so   low   the   big   man   had   to   stoop. The   floor   underfoot   was   rough,   with   rounded   stones   and   sandy   stretches. They   sloshed   carefully   forwards. All light   faded   and   they   stumbled   through   total   blackness,   one   hand   fending   off the   roof   and   the   other   on   the   wall. Their   feet   grew   numb   and   ached.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             It   seemed   ages   before   that   echoing   tunnel   changed;   cool   smooth   concrete   rose   above   their   heads   and   they   could   stand. They   seemed   to   be   in   a   big   cement   box   where   sewers   joined:   were   they   under   the   street? Feeling   their   way   around   several   turns   their   hands   met   level   stone   slabs,   and   they   stooped   and   reentered   the   masonry.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             It   seemed   to   take   years. Now   and   then   a   patch   of   light   appeared   from   a   street   grate,   filling   the   tunnel   for   a   ways   on   either   side   with   a   dim   illumination,   and   the   hollow   reflections   of   churning   water   flickered   on   the   rough   red-brown   stonework. Now   and   then   they   entered   cement   pipes   four   and   five   feet   high,   the   water   roaring   down   the   bottom. There   were   sharp   turns   and   narrow   places,   and   one   where   the   floor   descended   over   rocks. At   another   place   water   squirted   from   the   walls   and   soaked   Stephen   as   he   passed   through. Then   they   reached   a   sharp   turn,   the   tunnel   became   a   pipe   six   feet   high   and   daylight   poured   in   the   far   end. Túrin    emerged   cautiously.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “I   wondered   when   you   would   show.”   said   Beleg   Strongbow’s   voice   from   thin   air. He   and   Chris   became   suddenly   visible. “I   have   rendered   all   four   of   us   unseen. I   will   take   us   to   the   house   of   the   boys. Their   Glamhoth   are   already   gathering.”   he   added   as   sirens   wailed   by,   growling   down   to   a   stop   close   at   hand,   followed   by   slamming   doors   and   shouting   voices. Police.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             In   total   silence   they   walked   across   yards   and   up   streets,   crossing   the   old   factories   that   rose   in   all   sorts   of   strange   angles   and   gables   around   them,   rising   like   canyons   as   they   meandered   through   the   buildings. At   last,   to   the   boys’   great   relief,   they   came   to   their   house,   and   Beleg   softly   opened   the   door.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “You   will   be   visible   when   I   close   it.”   he   said. “Fare   well   for   the   present,   children.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Wait! Wait!”   exclaimed   Chris. “Are   you,   like,   from   Lord   of   the   Rings?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “No,”   said   Túrin,   “we   are   from   the   dead.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Then   he   and   Beleg   both   vanished.

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<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             Mom   came   back   home,   worried   sick,   as   she’d   heard   both   schools   were   locked   down   due   to   a   double   massacre. She   was   so   relieved   to   see   them   she   didn’t   question   their   storuy   of   utter   turmoil   and   them   just   running   home   unnoticed.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “It’s   just   as   well.”   she   said. “There’s   so   much   violence   in   schools   these   days…I   was   talking   with   a   nice   old   man   and   he   was   telling   me   of   gangs   that   go   around   tormenting   kids   who   aren’t—um—gay. I   hope   you   haven’t   been   bothered   by   them?”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Well…I   was   cornered   in   the   hallway   the   other   day   but   a   teacher   walked   by   and   they   ran.”   said   Chris.

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">“Hey,   same   thing   with   me! They   were   calling   me   Christie. For   Christian.”   said   Stephen. “And   my   teacher   totally   hit   the   roof   when   I   tried   walking   out   of   the   queer   class. She   was   fine   until   I   told   her   I   was   Christian.”

<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 1em 0px;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">             “Really.”   said   Mom   slowly. “I   had   no   idea   anti-Christianity   is   so   prevalent   these   days…I’m   so   sorry,   we   should   have   pulled   you   out   earlier,   but   I   work   and   we   can’t   homeschool. John   was   saying,   though,   that   there’s   a   man   he   knows   that   gives   private   tutoring,   very   good   references,   and   he   only   charges   $50   a   week! How   he   makes   a   living   I   don’t   know,   but   I’m   going   to   give   him   a   call. His   name’s   Root. Mr. Van   Root. Must   be   Dutch   or   something.”

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