Hero-Type Part 25

"And this is what I've figured out: Yes, John, we've always had the freedom to shut up, but here's the thing-America was founded by a bunch of loudmouths. They started complaining and they didn't shut up until they won.

"You can love your country and still want it to improve. It's like loving someone who smokes. You tell them to quit-you want them to quit-because you don't want them to die of lung cancer. So you badger them and you criticize their choices, but you still love them more than anything in the world.

"I look at the Const.i.tution ... I look at it and I see ... Look at it this way: There are people who want amendments to ban flag burning or gay marriage or whatever, but look at the Bill of Rights-it's about the rights we have, not the rights we lose. The Const.i.tution doesn't exist to restrict freedom-it exists to expand it."

I can't stop myself now. I'm going to do it.

"So you can be as slick as you want. You can have fancy computer stuff and be better-spoken than me and better-looking and all of that, but none of that changes one simple thing. None of that changes the words 'Congress shall make no law.' No matter how much you try, you just can't change those words.

"Just because John is slicker doesn't mean he's right. I know I'm not polished, but that shouldn't matter. You can't change those words. They're still the same, whether it's John speaking them or me.

"So, you know what, John? I'm tempted ... If you really don't have anything new or original to say, I'm tempted to give you your own advice from the other day and tell you to just shut the h.e.l.l up."

I look out at the audience. It's totally silent. I run the last foot of the marathon.

"Instead, I'll just say: Keep talking. I support your right to do it, and besides, you're just digging your own grave."

What happens next isn't quite a Hollywood ending, but I guess I'll take it.

It starts with a raucous catcall that I recognize as t.i.t. Followed by a piercing whistle the likes of which only Flip can produce. And then applause from different spots all over the auditorium.

Flip spread out the Council. To make it sound like there's more people applauding than just a concentrated section.

And it works. Because some other people join in. Not a lot. Not even anything approaching a majority.

It's a minority. But a loud minority.

Not bad. We can start with that.

Chapter 33.

Clarence Darrow?

Backstage, I can still hear the crowd going nuts. Both sides are going at it now, trying to outdo each other. It takes the teachers a good ten minutes to calm everyone down enough to collect the ballots.

The Doc is furious. John's p.i.s.sed, too.

"Kevin," the Doc says, barely controlling himself, "your job at the end was to calm them down, not get them all excited again."

"Yeah!" John says, sounding like a pathetic child.

I don't rise to the bait. "Look, Dr. Goethe. You can't do this once and expect it to let off all the steam. You need to do it all the time. You should make these things a regular occurrence or something. That's how safety valves work. You don't just use them once and then forget about them."

"I'm disappointed, Kevin."

"I'll be happy to talk about this issue any time, any place," I say.

"We're not doing this again, Kevin. Your Clarence Darrow days are over."

"Yeah," John chimes in. "This was supposed to be it."

"Do you only stand up for what you believe in when you have permission?" I ask him. I don't know who Clarence Darrow is, but you can bet your a.s.s I'm going to find out.

If the Doc wasn't standing right here, I think Riordon would drag me down to the ground and stomp me into paste right there.

Mrs. Sawyer comes back. "Voting's done," she says.

The Doc has us join him back on stage to read the results. I don't know why he's even bothering. There's no way in h.e.l.l this crowd gave me the victory.

"The votes are: six hundred and thirty-eight to John Riordon, four hundred and twenty-seven to Kevin Ross."

John's side goes nuts. I can hear boos from my side, and there are more of them than I'd ever dared hope for.

Wow-638 to 427. I thought he would blow me out of the water. I thought it would be a total landslide.

As the teachers start to wrangle kids and get them out of the auditorium and off to second period, I turn to John and grin. "Remember: any time, any place."

Chapter 34.

The Last Day in the Life of Officer s.e.xpot

I should be flying high. I should be insane with triumph. But I'm not. I don't get it. I still feel like the same old loser I've always been.

It's one in the morning and I'm at SAMMPark, waiting for the rest of the Council to show up. Flip said to meet near the statue right inside the park entrance, so that's where I'm standing.

The Council shows up after a couple of minutes. Flip gets to me first and surprises me with a hug.

"Tough loss, man," says t.i.t.

I break away from Flip. "Was he that much better than me?"

"Nah," t.i.t says, throwing an arm around my shoulder. "People are just idiots. They vote for the guy they'd want to have a beer with instead of the guy who knows what he's talking about."

Flip adds, "The good news is, people don't outgrow it. Adults are just as stupid."

"How is that good news?"

Flip shrugs. "It's all Foolish, baby. It's all Foolish."

"Yeah, well ... I don't know, guys. I think I prefer things quiet. It's been ... It's been kinda chaotic, you know?"

Flip laughs. "The world is dominated by chaos. Except for the human race, which tries to impose order everywhere it goes. Despite the evidence around us-soil erosion, climate change, statistical variances in the gene pool-we still try to make nature walk in a straight line when it would rather zigzag." He sighs. He's on a roll.

He turns to the Council. "Sounds like Foolish behavior to me, boys. I hereby nominate the human race for members.h.i.+p in the Council of Fools!" He raises both arms and shouts to the sky. "Humanity! Join us! Join your masters! All opposed, say 'Nay'!"

And then nothing but silence and Flip's panting as he strains, listening.

"There are no dissenting votes!" he cries. "I hereby admit humanity to the Council of Fools!" He punches the air in triumph. "Dude," he says, grinning, "I just upped our members.h.i.+p by six billion. Not bad, huh?"

I look around. "Where's Fam?"

If he's disappointed that I didn't join him in his revelry, he doesn't show it. He just holds up his cell. "Standing lookout, in case the cops come by and try to interrupt."

"Interrupt what?"

He just snaps his fingers. The guys rush out of the park, then come back. Speedo and Jedi have Officer s.e.xpot, who's tastefully decked out in some barely there bondage gear. t.i.t is carrying another set of similar clothing.

"The plan, dear Kross, is sublime in its perfection. Designed to drive a stake through the heart of that which is held most sacred in this s.h.i.+tty little town. If you thought people were in an uproar over the ribbons and the Pledge of Allegiance and that s.h.i.+t, just wait until they see what we do..." He pauses and grins a wicked grin, as if he wished that a drum-roll would start up right now. "To Susan Ann Marchetti!" He points to the statue and steps back.

"Boys, you know what to do!" Flip grabs my arm and pulls me back to watch with him as the Council guys close in on the statue and start to climb up the pedestal.

"What ... What are they doing?" I ask, but even as I ask it, I realize-the statue is lifesize. The same size as Officer s.e.xpot.

"Oh, the torment!" Flip mock-moans. "Oh, the weeping, the wailing, the gnas.h.i.+ng of teeth that will ensue in fair Brookdale when it's revealed that the town's patron saint and perfect little girl is actually a lesbian bondage fetis.h.i.+st locked in a cla.s.sic sixty-nine with an officer of the law!"

"You can't be serious." But already I can see the guys putting some of the bondage gear on the statue.

"This is going to be cla.s.sic," Flip says. "This won't just p.i.s.s off one group or another; this will p.i.s.s off everyone"

I watch it happen for another few seconds. "Flip, dude, don't do this. It isn't cool."

He blinks and pulls back from me. "What?"

"She never did anything to us. She's just some poor kid who got killed. Why are we doing this to her?"

"Poor, deluded Kross-we're not doing anything to her. We're doing it to her statue."

"No. Look. It's her memory. It's ... Think about her family. This isn't right."

"I can't be nailed down to such mundane concepts. We've transcended right and wrong and ascended to the realm of intellectual mischief. You understand that. Besides, this has a nice little side benefit: Once word about this gets out, people will stop talking about all of the c.r.a.p with you and the ribbons and everything."

"This isn't Foolish, Flip. It's just mean. It's wrong."

"Wrong? Who are you to decide right and wrong?" For the first time since I've known him, I see a glimmer of anger in Flip's eyes. And I don't like it. "Daddy's boy. Big G.o.dd.a.m.n hero" he says, quirking his lips into a grin at the very last moment to take most of the sting out of it.

Daddy's boy. Reminding me that he knows. Is he jealous of all the attention I've gotten?

No. Fam's right; Flip doesn't get jealous. It's impossible to be jealous when you a.s.sume you're better than everyone else around you.

"I'm tired of the patriotic stuff. It's old hat. It's been done before."

So he's bored with the flag game. He wants to move on. But here's the thing-I don't.

"This is tradition," he goes on. "The role of jester is an ancient and honorable one. Speaking truth to power has always been the province of the Fool."

"Yeah, I remember that from English cla.s.s, too." And I've realized something-Flip isn't a genius after all. He just pukes up stuff from school with a swagger and a cigarette and everyone falls all over themselves. "But it has to mean something. You can't just be a jester for the sake of being a jester."

He looks at me with a blank expression and a little tilt to his head. "Says who?"

"Jesus, Flip! Come off it! Jesters didn't act in secret. They acted in public. Like I'm doing. Not from the shadows. You just keep spouting all this intellectual c.r.a.p, but we're talking about real people and real-"

Just then, Flip's cell phone beeps. It's a special ringtone for Fam, the lookout.

"Cops!" Flip hisses, and everyone falls silent. The park isn't well lit; we're all in shadows.

The guys jump down from the pedestal and get behind the statue. The whole place goes quiet except for the crunch of gravel from the parking lot, where a police car minces along the ground. I can see its headlights from here.

I look over at the statue of Susan Ann Marchetti. Over her permanent nurse's outfit, she's now partly clad in a leather bra with spikes sticking out of it and some boots that are strategically slit to wrap around her legs all the way up to her thighs. Officer s.e.xpot is sort of hanging half off her, upside down.

I yell. Like I'm being gutted.

I don't even know I'm going to do it until I do it. Flip jerks back and looks at me in shock, and believe me-the look on my face must be just as shocked, because I can't believe I just heard that scream come out of my mouth. But there it is, there it goes, there it went-it's past tense now and there's the sound of a police car door opening and closing.

SAMMPark's frozen in a moment in time as we all look at one another through the dark.

And then, as if we've all heard the same silent, telepathic command, we break and run like h.e.l.l.

I'm fast. Not join-the-track-team fast, but fast enough. I run away from the park entrance and the cop who's no doubt about to come through there. The rest of the Council has the same idea and now there's a pack of kids racing like the devil's on their tails toward the other end of the park.

"Wish..." Flip puffs next to me, "I could see ... the look ... on his face!"

And he starts laughing while he's running until the motion makes him cough.

I put on a burst of speed and outpace him, making it to the wall near the soccer field before anyone else. I've been climbing this wall forever-I know where the handholds are. I launch myself onto the wall and scramble up and over.