Part 7 (2/2)
”Man, you really think what I do with some cheap magnets is more important than stopping someone from getting raped and killed?”
”See, that's the problem, Ross. You don't get it. You don't get why the rest of us hate people like you. It's because of a little something called patriotism. You don't see it. People like you. People like your dad. People who want to outlaw the Pledge. People who think it's OK to burn the flag. You can say they're just magnets, but you know d.a.m.n well they're more than that. They symbolize something.”
I look down at the stack of symbols in my hands. ”I guess I don't get it.”
”You need to support the troops.”
”How do magnets support the troops? Seriously. Look.” I slap one of the ribbons back on the car. ”There. Did some kind of magic energy wave just fly off overseas and wrap a soldier in a force field or something?” I slap on another one. ”There. Did a bomb just not go off somewhere?”
”You're a little smart aleck. Aren't you proud to be an American?”
”Well ... yeah. Sure. I guess I just don't feel the need to tell everybody.”
He sniffs and nods at the pile in my hands. ”What are you going to do with them?”
”Give them a deserving home.” And I hand them right to him, shoving them at his chest. His hands come up by reflex and he takes them from me without even thinking, which is awesome.
”Make sure you read the paper in the morning,” he snarls.
Oh, great. But I'm not going to let him know he got to me. I grin, throw him a salute, and head back inside.
Chapter 15.
Love it, Leave it
Ugh. When will I learn to keep my mouth shut?
Next day, I wake up and look at the newspaper and there's Reporter Guy's byline in the Loco, right over a story about me and right under a headline that says, Local ”Hero” Unmasked. I can't even bring myself to read it.
If I thought that this ribbon thing would just go away, not only am I a moron, but I'm also a moron brought right back down to earth very fast. Mrs. Mac is watering the azaleas next to the porch as I head to the car in the morning, and she gives me a brief snort. Great-now even old ladies are p.i.s.sed at me.
”They said you're a hero on the TV,” she says. ”Now I'm not so sure.”
Lady, I agree with you, I want to say, but don't.
On the way to school, I try not to think about the Loco and the school paper and all of that, but Reporter Guy's words from last night keep echoing in the empty chamber I call my head. He was talking about going national with this, maybe. That's the last thing I need. Could Justice! take back my reward? Man, that would suck. I've gotten used to having this car, and I've only had it a couple of days!
But worse than that is what could happen if someone learned the truth about that day at the library. About me catching the Surgeon. I think of my tape of Leah, how I captured her on video at the Burger Joint and she didn't even know. How I watch it over and over, looking for something new every time.
What if someone else has done the same thing to me? What if someone out there taped my appearance on Justice! and is watching it over and over and over again, until the truth about that comes out? I don't know how that could happen, but that's what I worry about. Someone mean and smart, like Reporter Guy, watching me fidget and lie on TV until he figures it all out.
I'm sweating all of a sudden. The air conditioning is blasting cold air all over me, but I'm still sweating.
School sucks as much today as it did yesterday. I'm an outcast. I b.u.mp into a senior in the hall and mumble, ”Excuse me,” and he just shoves me against the lockers. Hard.
His friends laugh. Two weeks ago, I might have said something, but now? Now I know that there's absolutely no one in this hallway who would take my side, and way too many people who would be happy to jump in and help pummel me into paste.
In homeroom, I keep my head down. There's a buzz of conversation and I know it's about me.
”My dad's in the Reserve,” someone says, just loud enough that I can hear it. I look up-it's John Riordon, the only soph.o.m.ore on the varsity football team. He's big and tough the way lions are big and tough.
”He better hope I don't catch him dissing the troops,” Riordon goes on, talking to Samantha Riggs but watching me the whole time. ”Because if I do, there's gonna be h.e.l.l to pay.”
OK, got it. Don't diss troops in front of John Riordon, else h.e.l.l to pay. That is now filed away in my brain under the category THINGS TO REMEMBER-URGENT!!!!
The morning announcements start and we all rise for the Pledge. My stomach isn't just in knots-it's in one of those special U.S. Navy knots that gets tighter and tighter the more you try to untangle it.
I don't want to open my mouth to say the Pledge because I'm honestly terrified that my breakfast will come out. And that makes me think of Reporter Guy and his whole deal last night about people who want to ban the Pledge, and that makes me a syllable behind everyone else as we launch into...
I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic for which it stands, one nation, under G.o.d, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.
Whew! Got through it. I even managed to catch up so that I finished with everyone else. Score one for me.
But John Riordon gives me a nasty look as we all sit down for the announcements, and I know that my one point means nothing. Because the opposing team has a million of them, and on that score, I'll never catch up.
School's a blur for me. I just can't seem to focus. I'm still sweating a little bit, still nauseated enough that I skip lunch. I don't want to be around anyone, not even the Council, so I go to the media center and find a computer tucked away in a corner and just stay there.
The computers in the media center have the school paper's website as the homepage, so the first thing I see is a story about how my ribbon-tras.h.i.+ng has now made the Loco. A student reporter interviews Reporter Guy and Reporter Guy says that he plans to pursue the story ”for a state and national audience. Right now, the American public thinks Kevin Ross is a hero. They deserve to know how their 'hero' thinks.”
I wonder: Did he put ”hero” in air-quotes or did the kid interviewing him just add that in there?
And by the way: What the h.e.l.l? What's up with a reporter interviewing a reporter? Is that what you do when there's no real news?
I slump down in my seat. Mrs. Grant, the school librarian, comes by and sees what I'm looking at. She pats me on my shoulder.
”Don't let it get to you, Kevin. Something else will get everyone's attention in a few days and then it'll all be over.”
”I guess.”
”Trust me.”
”Thanks, Mrs. Grant.”
But I know it's not true. I'll always be the Kid Who Hates the Troops. People might stop talking about it, but they won't forget something like that.
<script>