Educational Experience

Chapter Seven

7.

As we were nearing the Senior Wing, we heard this loud whoop and then somebody laughing like a maniac just as the side doors to that building flew open. And when this young guy went flying across the little courtyard between buildings like he was trying out for track or something, Taylor got this really frightened look on her face and grabbed hold of my arm—very hands-y, this little woman.

But I figured it was that Cody character before she even said anything--knew it for sure when Delores barked, “Get inside!” and shoved me all the way into the building.

Once they’d gotten me safely out of sight, Taylor ran into the nearest room and hit the red intercom button by the front door. And as soon as someone answered, she said, “Intruder, Senior Wing. Cody Parrish” in a firm but pretty calm voice. Grace under pressure—or fire baptized, actually. I’m sure she’d seen just about everything over the years.

Seconds later we heard running footsteps coming at us from different directions including farther inside the building--custodians and security guys, they turned out to be. They looked seriously stressed out, and also like they were maybe trying to stop us from going that way.

But that little woman just pushed past them--I ran after her to be there just in case. And then Caldwell and some other guys came in that side door and joined the foot race. But we all  skidded to a halt when we got to the English hall. There was all kinds of debris thrown out in the hallway in front of her room—books, chairs, posters and student papers ripped to pieces and thrown all over the floor.

When we actually got there, Taylor stopped and stood totally still, like a little statue, staring down at the bike laying half in and half out of the door—or what had been a bike. It was beat up so bad it looked like some kind of abstract art exhibit. And the tires were slashed to ribbons.

This one security dude said, “Fuck…” almost reverently. It was impressive, I have to say. The thing was totally trashed. So was the room.

Delores was the first to step around the battered bike and go in to view the devastation up close and personal. And as she entered the room she put her hand on top of her head and said, “Lord Jesus…” in a way that told me she was, for once, speechless.

I didn’t go in with the others—neither did Taylor. I don’t think either of us could think straight. I mean, I was on the verge of blowing my top because wanton, random stuff like this really chaps my ass. She didn’t even do anything to this guy—not to Danny, either. So I was a little worried that it was me he was really trying to intimidate by doing heinous shit to her. Bad move, if that was the case.

I don’t scare easy. And I could mess up his stupid little life in ways he could never imagine—that’s the thing. The trouble I was in with the courts couldn’t be fixed because of the judge’s personal issues. That happens. You deal with it—he was complicating my life more then he knew, but whenever I hit a wall, I stop and examine it. You’ll either find a crack you can slip through, a weak spot you can break through or a message you needed to heed.

But if I really decided to take this Cody dude down, he would learn what it meant to “rue the day” for sure. And the wall would be impenetrable and impassable. Luckily for him, at that moment, I was more concerned about Taylor. Because she’d gone into some little world of her own to keep from going totally nuts, I think. She had that stare they tell you exhausted combat soldiers get, when they’re right on that edge. Or when they’ve stepped over it, maybe.

When she dropped down to examine the damage closer, I decided to go on in and leave her alone for a minute—everybody else was already in there, probably for the same reason. Most people intuit when someone just doesn’t need to be bothered for a few minutes—there’s the odd dumbass who doesn’t know or care when to shut it, but most of us pick up on cues pretty good.