The Butterfly Ethic/4

4

The Red Wizard

So far so good was what I was thinking during study hall. In this class, talking was not permitted at all. The place was so quiet, you could hear a feather drop. Everyone from sixth to eighth grade met in the cafeteria and silently did their homework. Study hall didn’t even exist for more than two quarters, it started last November because the teachers felt that students needed to have more time to get their homework done. Their solution was to extend school an extra hour and imprison the students during that hour. Also, the faculty was paid by the hour.

During this period, I pretended to be doing my algebra, but the only math I was really doing was calculating how much that painting was actually worth, and what I’d do with the profit. I figured I’d just turn it in, but it was how I obtained the money that mattered. There was no doubt that I was now equipped with the remnants of a memory from the future. I had a reputation to uphold. These memories weren’t lost, just inaccessible except for that one. I needed to repeat those results.

At four o’clock, a cart came by with snacks. There was bread and the raspberries from before being handed out by Giovanni and Robert.

“Now if any of you make a mess, you’ll get a card pull.” Kolleen warned us.

“What if we accidentally make a mess?” A sixth grader asked.

“Then you’ll accidentally get a card pull.” Kolleen said just before she walked out. When I got in line to get my ration, Robert gave me bread, but no raspberries.

“I want some raspberries too.” I said.

“Too bad.” Robert said. “You already got some.”

“No I didn’t” I cried. I reached out to get a carton and Robert grabbed my arm and threw me against the brick wall. I hit the back of my head in the same spot I hit it when I fell.

''Ouch! Stop provoking him Martin.''

He won’t let me get some raspberries.

Well you did already get some.

Yeah, but how does he know that?

Good point, I can’t answer that.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">In my frustration, I pushed the stack of raspberry boxes off the cart. I came to regret that when Kolleen walked in.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“What happened here?” she asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Martin did it.” Giovanni said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Martin, come with me to the office.” Kolleen told me. I followed her there and she told me to call my mom. I did and told her the situation, including the part where Robert threw me against the wall. When I finished, she asked to talk to Kolleen. I gave the phone to her and sat down in one of the chairs.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I didn’t know Robert did that, I’ll talk to him about that. By the way, did Martin have a doctor’s appointment this morning?” Kolleen asked. “That is a slough.” My mom said something to respond to that. “But it is a slough.” My mom said something. “It’s an automatic suspension.” I couldn’t hear what my mom said, but she sounded very irritated. “okay, bye.” Kolleen hung up the phone and took a deep breath. “Go get your stuff, Martin.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">Suspension, in spite of my rebellious attitude, I was never suspended before, at least not from a polygamist school. With this new obstacle, the painting and everything else lost its value, but when Kolleen sent me to Amber’s class to get my stuff, stopped by where I left my notebook. I looked behind the mat and my notebook was gone. I sat on the mat and wondered who could’ve taken it. Amber, Kolleen, and Robert were all suspects. I figured I was just mad at Robert and tried to think more rationally; then I saw the empty raspberry carton and realized that was how he knew I got some. He must’ve seen me put it there and taken it when I left.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">When school got over, I went to the bus hoping for Giovanni and Robert to be there, but they went on the north bus today. I knew this because I walked by it to get to mine and Giovanni and Robert poked their heads out the window to talk to me.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“How’d you like getting thrown into the wall?” Robert asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Yeah you dumb butt.” Giovanni added. I wanted to confront them, but that would only make things worse, plus if I was wrong, I would alert him of my presence in that room and that I was missing a notebook.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">I was very discouraged on the way home. There weren’t any free seats so I had to stand. When Corinne got on, she asked if I had the cookies.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I do,” I replied. “But there’s not that much. Not enough for all these-“ I gestured toward the mass on the bus.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Just wait until we leave Salt Lake.” Corinne said. “Then ther’ll be enough.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">There weren’t enough cookies for everyone. I made sure of that by eating some earlier in the day and prioritizing to different kids. First I gave my full siblings some cookies, then whatever half-siblings and children of half-siblings I could find. By the time I reached Christopher, there were none.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“What? None for me?” He asked in frustration.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Sorry, I’m all out. Maybe next time.” I said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“No, you can’t do that!” he said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Calm down, they’re just cookies. You don’t really deserve any anyways.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“You were supposed to make some for everyone!”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Only because of a fight you started. Maybe you could get your friend in you and he’ll make you some.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Martin, you retard!” He shouted, but nothing he said would change the fact that he had no cookies.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">Josef came home that night. When he did, he and my mom asked me where I was in the morning. I had no choice but to say it.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I- I was sloughing.” I said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Why?” Josef asked. It was hard to make eye contact with him.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I couldn’t stand it there.” I said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Why not?” my mom asked. “Was it those guys again?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in;line-height:normal">“Yes.” I said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“What did they do this time?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Since I got back to school, nobody would leave me alone.” I said. “They keep bothering me about what happened.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“You mean last Tuesday?” Josef asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Yes,” I said. I then told them about how they threw me against the wall and taunted me about it afterwards. “And then they took my pain- my notebook.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“What was in the notebook?” she asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Some of my homework.” I said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Martin. Just because some people are mean to you, doesn’t give you the right to slough.” Said Josef.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I know, but I- couldn’t go.” I said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“You could’ve,” Joseph said. “What I would do, Tracy, is call the parents of those kids and tell them what happened.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in;line-height:normal">“Okay.” Said my mom.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in;line-height:normal">On Monday, when you go back to school, I don’t want you sloughing anymore, okay?” said Josef. “Are you taking them next Monday?” he asked mom.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in;line-height:normal">“No, Leia is.” She said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in;line-height:normal">“Leia.” Josef muttered. “How about you take them,” Josef suggested. “since you’ll have to go to meet with the principal anyway. Have Leia take the kids tomorrow in exchance.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Okay.” She said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in;line-height:normal">“Martin.” Josef said. “If those kids don’t treat you well, you still have to do your part. On Monday, I want you to go to school and behave yourself. It doesn’t matter what anyone else says or does.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in;line-height:normal">“All right, I will.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in;line-height:normal">“Martin, don’t forget.” Said Tracy. “We have an appointment with that doctor tomorrow.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in;line-height:normal">“I know.” I said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in;line-height:normal">“Be careful about him.” Said Josef. “Don’t talk unless he asks you something.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in;line-height:normal">“I won’t.” I said. I embraced them and walked out of the room. I wondered for a while if I should tell her what really happened. I will, I told myself. As soon as I get that picture back.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">Tracy called the mothers of Robert and Giovanni about the events of today. Giovanni knew nothing of the notebook and Robert said he didn’t have it, which was true. When he found it, he put it in his locker. The next day, he would be getting it out, only to lose it again.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">Giovanni sat on the back of the north bus, writing on the back of the seat in front of him:

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">Mark S. sucks donkey nuts. Next to him sat Robert, who was reading a notebook.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“hey, check it out!” he said. “Martin says that someday, you’ll pay for what you’re doing.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Oh really,” Giovanni said. He looked at what Robert was reading. It was a poorly kept school notebook. The bottom looked as though it had been dropped into muddy water and left to dry. “Wait a minute. Is that Martin’s notebook?” he asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Yeah.” Said Robert. “This is what got me through school today.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Where’d you find it?” Giovanni asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“In the empty classroom over by Amber’s. The one with the mats.” He said. “Martin told on me for stealing it and my mom asked me about it last night. Luckily I was able to make Martin look like a liar.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“You don’t need to do that, he does it himself.” Giovanni laughed at his joke. “What else does it say?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I dunno, I’m looking fo the dark secret section.” He flipped through a few pages. “Well, there’s a dream section right here.” Giovanni watched as Robert ran through the pages. “What the heck?” He pulled out a picture of a snowy landscape with covered wagons crossing. “What is Martin doing with this?” He stood up in his seat and threw it like a Frisbee. It landed in a hedge outside a cathedral.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“let me read that when you’re done.” Giovanni said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I will.” Said Robert, but it took him until they got to Giovanni’s house. In the meantime, Giovanni worked on his math homework. When the bus let them off, Giovanni put his pen in his pocket and went into his house.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Martin has very weird dreams.” Robert said as he set the notebook on the counter.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Like what?” Giovanni asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“There’s one about a creature named Zeramourn who lives in a dark jungle, then there’s one about the Deseret music room, and his friend, Andrew.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Who’s Andrew?” Giovanni asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I think I remember something about him, according to Martin, he died the summer after fifth grade. I doubt they were really friends, though. It says that Martin had an imaginary friend named Shiloh.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“What a freak.” Giovanni said. He picked up the notebook, then the kitchen door burst open and Giovanni’s brother, Patrick, walked in.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Giovanni,” he said. “You want to help me with something?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Yeah, what?” Giovanni asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Come out here.” He led his brothers out the door.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: 35.45pt;line-height:normal">[i]It was a beautiful day there in Bountiful. The storm had missed the city and the ground was just damp. It was the perfect opportunity to dig a hole.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">Patrick picked up a grating used for an animal cage. In the wiring was a hole that he himself cut. He put it over the hole he dug and went around the house, coming back with a cat in his arms.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“When I put the cat in, put the wiring over the hole.” Patrick commanded. Giovanni set the notebook on one of the ledges of their polycarbonate jungle gym and then put the grating over the cat. The cat poked its head out through the hole and meowed. Patrick shoveled dirt through the grating and patted it down. The cat was now immobile except for his head. They lifted the grating as the cat meowed desperately.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">It was indeed a beautiful day, the animals made noises, and the grass was growing. It was the perfect opportunity to stay home and mow the lawn. Patrick pushed the lawnmower across the lawn toward the cat. The cat squealed and wines helplessly as the blades were brought above its head. There was no hesitation to bring them down.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">It was most certainly a beautiful day. The animals were silent, the children were laughing, the grass was red and damp, and sweet music filled the air. It was a perfect day to get robbed.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Who’s listening to that crap?” Patrick asked. Everyone turned to the source of the Mozart music. It was a strange man poking around the jungle gym. He had white hair with a long white beard. He wore a white robe going down past his feet, tied around his waist was a thick, brown belt with loopy patterns and an ivory buckle with Turkish patterns. On his head was a pointed gray hat.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Who the heck are you?” Robert asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">The man looked at him. “I am Saruman, or rather, Saruman as he should have been.” He said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Man,” Robert said. “Why does your house have to be in the weirdest neighborhood ever?” The Wizard looked around the jungle gym and found Martin’s notebook.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“What’re you doing with that?” Giovanni asked. He and Robert ran towards him. Robert stood behind Giovanni as he yanked the notebook out of his hands. The Wizard looked at Giovanni with his black eyes and said: “Hold out your hand, it’s quite cool.” Giovanni doubtfully extended his arm and The Wizard grabbed it. With his other hand, he reached for the notebook. Goivanni pushwed him back and he fell to the ground. He got back up and walked to the remains of Patrick’s cat.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“What the heck are you doing?” Patrick asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Who is this guy?” said Robert. The Wizard picked up what was left of the cat and held it above his head, pouring the blood over his face like a dehydrated man holding a canteen. He then offered it to Robert, who didn’t know what to do. Giovanni seized the moment and charged at him, but the wizard only threw the corpse at Robert and grabbed Giovanni with newfound strength. “I gave you the chance of aiding me willingly,” he said to Giovanni. “But you have elected the way of pain!” Giovanni soon found that everything he ever learned about fighting was useless against this man. He was put into a headlock, unable to see what was going on around him. Soon even the sound of Patrick and Robert coming to his aid was drowned out.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in;line-height:normal">The next thing Giovanni knew, he was lying in the bloodstained grass; the notebook no longer in his hands.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in;line-height:normal">The wizard tripped both Patrick and Robert with his staff. With the notebook in his possession, The Wizard got off on his way, but Giovanni lunged at him again. He once again grabbed Giovanni, this time around the waist. Giovanni let out a Wilhelm Scream as he was thrown into the jungle gym.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">Now it was Patrick’s turn. He rushed at The Wizard and tried to punch him in the face. He was surprised at how easy his blow was blocked. The Wizard lowered Patrick’s hand and blocked his next punch with his staff. He twirled around a few times swinging his staff and grunting. Patrick had to jump back to avoid the rod hitting his shin. The Wizard continued swinging his staff in a stochastic pattern until he hit Patrick in the ribs, knocking him back a few feet. He got up and took one and charged at the wizard as he stood at the gate with a brilliant light reflecting off his robe. The wizard’s response was to slam the gate in his face.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: 35.45pt;line-height:normal">It was undoubtedly a beautiful day. The birds were singing, the sun was shining, the kids were lying on the ground, and a delusional man with blood on his beard was making off with stolen property. Any opportunities anyone had were now lost.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">On Thursday, I made another visit to Dr. Pratt’s office. I still couldn’t get used to his grim humor and analytical questions. Thankfully, this would be the last visit, as I was perfectly fine, if a bit sick from the lunch today.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: 35.45pt;line-height:normal">When I was done, he left me in the waiting room and brought my mom in his office.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I want to talk to you about your son.” He said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“What about him?” she asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Well, his brain’s completely ameliorated, but he has diabetes.” He told her.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Oh, I was expecting lung cancer.” Said Tracy.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“He’s too young for that now.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Anyhow, I thought you already knew he was okay.” She said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I did, but they wouldn’t believe me. The cat scan did show signs of trauma, but today’s session proves that it has no effect on him.” He held up his clipboard and signed his name on his report.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: 35.45pt;line-height:normal">“So that’s good, right?” Tracy asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“That’s very good, so good it’s almost unheard of in the medical world. This is like somebody jumping out of a plane and living to tell about it. The problem is, other people don’t believe this. It has been suggested that the trauma may have been psychological.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Do you believe that?” Tracy asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“No, I think the concept of someone losing consciousness from psychological trauma is absurd. I think it was most likely exhaustion, but since we’ve already done the physical examinations, and since Martin’s account of what happened that day doesn’t show anything unusual, then I decided to put him through a psychological examination.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“So-“ Tracy began.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I haven’t scheduled anything yet, but I will get back to you as soon as possible.” He said. “They’ve recommended Dr. Jared Reynolds. He works at Granite High School, and he’s very good. My son, Christopher, was having problems in school, but after Jared counseled him, Christopher did much better.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Well then, I guess we’ll send him there.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“That’s good.” He said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“May I ask who recommended this?” Tracy asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Let me see.” He pulled up an e-mail on his computer and scanned through it. “A lady named Haley Fultz.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: 35.45pt;line-height:normal">“All right then.” Tracy said. “May we leave now?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Go ahead.” He said. “It’s too nice of a day to keep you in here all afternoon.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">As luck would have it, my mom came home from work on Saturday and gave me my notebook.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“It was on my desk.” She said as she gave it to me. I was shocked. I almost thought I misplaced it after all, but I knew that couldn’t be. “So are you going to apologize to those guys?”she asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“They probably won’t accept it.” I said. “They’ll probably try to beat me up for telling on them.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">Even if they do, you should still do it.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“why?” I asked. At this point, Freya walked in and complained that the kids ate all the rice.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Okay, go make yourself a sandwich, or something.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I will.” Said Freya. After Freya walked out, she continued.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Because that’s the kind of person you should be.” She said. “The kind who does what’s right in spite of the consequences.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Okay, I’ll do it.” I said, though I wasn’t sure whether that was the truth or not.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">It was at Sunday school the next day when I saw Giovanni again. He had a huge bruise on his left cheek, which led a lot of kids in the class to look at that rather than listen to stories of our ancestors and their quests to, um, do something. I wasn’t paying attention.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">After class we had our daily meditation session, in which our teacher, George Billias, explained that we were supposed to use meditation to let go of things of the past, but all it was used for was for students to see how much they could get away with while the teacher was in his trance. Today was the average day of kids poking the people in front of them while trying not to laugh at the bodily functions of other people.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">After the class ended, we all folded up our chairs and put them away. I walked behind Giovanni, and the first person he talked to was Christopher, who asked: “What happened to your face?” His chair made a loud clanging sound as it hit the concrete floor.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“You think there’s something wrong with my face? Huh?” He asked him. He kicked his chair and it skidded across the floor and hit into someone else’s foot. I hoped someone else would ask him, for I found it to be hilarious. Perhaps I should ask him when he was in a better mood.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">Ross was in the hallway where everyone took their chairs. When he saw me, he commented on Giovanni.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Looks like he got beat up.” Said Ross.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Yeah, but by who?” I asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I don’t know, maybe one of his brothers.” That didn’t seem likely, but who else would’ve done it?

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">Noticing that Ross was wearing some nice Sunday clothes, I asked him: “So how’s the dare going?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Pretty good,” he replied. “Pretty good.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“How much did you get?” I asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Ten dollars.” He said. “But it’s still going.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Really? How much shirts does he want you to wear?” I asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“It isn’t the shirts he looks at, but it’s the contents. Here, I will show you.” He led me to a section of the building where there were old sewing machines and cloth presses. I remembered coming here when I was about three years old, back when it was full of people making clothes. Now, the only clothes here sat in a small carriage.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“This is where the T-shirst come from.” Said Ross. “Jeff will pay me more if I wear some of the more dangerous ones.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Dangerous ones?” I asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Yeah, back when this company started, the country was at war, so they were asked to make shirts to support the war. Most of them are some like this.” Ross picked up a shirt that had the Navy’s logo and read: Freedom isn’t Free. “And then there’s some dangerous ones like this.” He held up another shirt that read: My dad’s in Vietnam killing yours. Ross looked through the stack again. “Here’s a funny one.” The shirt read: Don’t Waste Utah, Waste BYU. I laughed at that one. As for the Vietnam one, I won’t say whether I laughed or not.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">Ross ran through the pile again, pulling out one more that read: I don’t want no Jap Crap

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Hmm, I should give this to Tristan when he goes to Japan next year.” Said Ross.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Why’s he going there?” I asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“He wants some Jap Crap.” Said Ross. “So what do you think?” he asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“About what?” I replied. He sighed and held up the Vietnam shirt.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Should I wear this in public or not, because it’s twenty five dollars if I do.” He said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Yeah, do it.” I said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Okay then, but I also have to go through a Vietnamese neighborhood.” Said Ross. “At least if I want the money.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I dunno, you might get beat up.” I said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Yeah, but if I don’t. It’s a risk I’m willing to take.” He said. He set the shirt down and walked out of the room.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“How much money do you plan on getting out of this?” I asked him.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“It depends.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“On what.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“On how far I’m willing to go.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">I saw Giovanni after study hall on Monday. My notebook was sitting on the cafeteria table with my science and math books and he just happened to catch a glimpse of it. He slammed his hand over the stack of books.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Is this what you think I stole?” He asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“It is.” I said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I knew you just misplaced it.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I didn’t.” I said. “Someone did steal it, but it wasn’t you.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“How do you know that?” he asked. Because whoever stole it had the honesty to give it back. I thought, but I said nothing. I pried his hand off my books and put them in my bag. “I’m talking to you, Martin.” He said. The moment was at hand.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Giovanni.” I said calmly. It was time to do what was right and let the consequence follow. He listened intently as if he knew what was coming. I took a deep breath and said: “What is wrong with your face?” Almost immediately, Giovanni pressed me into the wall. He would’ve gone further had Amber not walked in and chastised him a few seconds later.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Giovanni, Unhand him!” she shouted at him. Not wanting to directly defy one of the most powerful women in the school, Giovanni picked up his backpack and walked out the door.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Are you all right, Martin?” she asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Yeah.” I replied.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Good.” She said. I finished putting my books in my bag and then went to the door with Amber walking behind me.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">She seems pretty nice to me, I thought. Maybe I’m off her list. I let the door shut behind me, and she threw it open.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Martin! Hold the door open for people behind you!” Maybe not.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">[ii]On the bus, Giovanni sat in the back and complained about Amber.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“She hates Soren’s entire family.” He said. “She thinks that just because she’s English, she’s better than us.” When he noticed I was listening, he lowered his voice to the earshot of those sitting next to him. I wanted to hear what he was saying, but with the volume of those around him, I wouldn’t be able to hear him unless I was right in front of him. I went to the middle of the bus, my sanctioned area, and sat next to Abinadi, who, in the corner of my eye, I saw filling out a worksheet with different shapes.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">Shortluy after the bus went in motion, Giovanni came to my seat.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Do you mind if I sit here?” he asked Abinadi.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“No.” Abinadi said, after which he did nothing.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Are you going to move?” Giovanni asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in;line-height:normal">“Why should I?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in;line-height:normal">“So I could sit there.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in;line-height:normal">“But I just said I didn’t want you to.” Abinadi said. I looked up at him as he balled his fists.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in;line-height:normal">“What do you want?” I asked.

<p style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:0in; margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height:normal">“I want to ask you something, Martin, how was your vacation? Did you do anything fun?” he asked,

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Like what?” I asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Like play piano, or save any cats?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Those things aren’t fun.” I said. “What do you want, really?” He stayed quiet for a few seconds, then he answered: “Someone came over to my house on Friday. He was disguised and he stole some things.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“And you think that was me?” I asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Or someone you know.” Giovanni said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I don’t know anyone who was at your house on Friday.” I said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“You sent someone to my house.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Why would I do that?” I asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“To beat-” he said. “To try to beat me up.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“And so you think it was me?” I asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“No, I think you sent someone to try and beat me up and get your notebook back.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I thought you said you didn’t steal it.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I didn’t but you thought I did.” He told me. He looked at Abinadi, who was staring at him with a blank stare. “What are you looking at?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“What happened to your face?” Abinadi asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Shut up, Abinadi.” I told him. “Do you at least know who it was that beat you up?” “He didn’t beat me up.” Giovanni said. “and he was in disguise. It was a disguise so stupid only you could come up with it.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“A stupid disguise?” I asked. “If you can’t tell who it was, it must have been pretty good.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I couldn’t even see the guy’s face, he was disguised as a Lord of the Rings character. Only one of you would be stupid enough to do that.” He obviously saw the “eureka” look on my face because the next thing he said was: “You do know what I’m talking about!”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“He got you.” I laughed.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Who is he?” Giovanni asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Oh look, it’s almost your stop!” I pointed to the street the bus was turning onto. At the end of the road was an office building owned by the Whigfield family. All I did was stalled him until the bus stopped there. After he got off, I slumped down on my seat and read my book all the way home.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">On the way home, Abinadi asked me what Giovanni was talking about on the bus. I saw no reason not to tell him and Freya what happened. I told them about the picture from the flea market, how the wizard tried to take it from me, how Giovanni stole it from me, and that I got it back.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“That’s weird.” Abinadi said as I finished. “But why’d you even buy the picture?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Because I liked it.” I said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“You liked it?” he asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Martin,” Freya said. “you sloughed school and left to a flea market, just because you liked a picture?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“All right, here’s what really happened.” I proceeded to tell them that I went back in time, and the picture was worth a lot of money.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“So is that what you were really doing when you fell asleep by the rock garden?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Yes.” I said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“You got us all persecuted.” he said. “Just after that happened, some lawers came to our house and tried to persecute us.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I didn’t mean to!” I said. “I went back in time, Abinadi.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I don’t believe that.” Abinadi said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“It is true, Martin.” Said Freya. “Time travel isn’t believed to be possible, but if you did, you could help us out, right?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Yes, I can.” I never really thought of using my gift to help against lawyers, my specialty was Giovanni.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">Abinadi laughed. “I still don’t believe you.” He said. “If you went back in time, then what’s going to happen tomorrow?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I don’t know.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“haha. You didn’t really travel in time.” He said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I don’t remember.” I said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“You don’t remember that you went back in time?” Abinadi asked joyfully.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I lost my memories when I went back. It might’ve been from when I hit my head.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“You’re just lying.” Said Abinadi.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I’ll get them back, Abinadi, and when I do, all this will be worth it.” I continued home through my path of fallen leaves with new determination to get my memories back. My trip had put our family in danger; I needed to get us out of trouble; I needed to get back on Amber’s list.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">The next day, I managed to get Nephi, Sam, and Laurence involved in my plot to sneak into the school. We carefully stepped to the same rooms we went last time with much better luck. Nobody saw us sneaking around. It was then that I suggested that we push our luck further by heading to the lunchroom.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“We might get caught there.” Said Laurence.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Might? It’s not fun if there’s no challenge.” I told him.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Well you can count me out then.” He said. “I don’t want to get caught.” He departed and left us to our mischief. We silently brushed through the hallway and to the lunchroom door, all without getting caught. Of course, it wasn’t that cold outside, so we had little to gain by being inside. Nephi, Sam and I were quickly bored with our success, so we went back outside. Once there, I asked if they wanted to go into Amber’s domain with me, but they both turned me down.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">[iii]It was only me on this one. Rose let me into her classroom, and then I went on my perilous journey to Amber’s classroom. Just next to her classroom was a janitor’s closet, and inside it was a push broom. I pulled it out and thought a bit about what I was going to do. I didn’t have to do it, I could’ve just waited until Rachel got home and copied her dictionary, but I still did it for one reason. Lunchtime was at 12:05, Rachel got home at around 6:30, so there was no question about it. I needed to stir something up now. I went into room ten, where the silence was broken only by water dripping from the spout on the wall. I added to that noise by slamming the pushbroom into the wall. Somehow that wasn’t satisfying enough, so I slammed it harder. After waiting a minute, I picked up the broom and spun around rapidly. Faster and faster it went until it released from my grip and slammed into the wallAmber walked in just after that.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“What are you doing?” she asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“um, swinging push brooms.” I said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Why?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I dunno.” I said. “Ironic, isn’t it?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Bring me your homework sheet.” She said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I don’t exactly have it with me.”I said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Well then, go get it.” She asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I might’ve left it home.” I said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Well then, it’s two card pulls, one for the new homework sheet, and one for being in here before school starts.” She looked down at the broom. “Hangh that up in the closet.” When I did that, she made me an offer “Would you rather copy the dictionary again? You seem to do much better when you do that.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Um, no I don’t want to copy the dictionary.” I said to her.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“All right then, I’ll pull your cards.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Wait, um, I’ll copy the dictionary.” I said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Good, during lunch you will, and I’ll only give you one card pull.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: .5in;line-height:normal">Amber kept her promise, and gave me a new homework sheet with two card pulls signed on it. After first period, I crumpled the sheet up and threw it in the garbage. At lunchtime, I kept my end of the deal and sat with the faculty.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“What do you want?” Kolleen asked.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“I’m here as punishment.” I said.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">“Figures.” Said Kolleen.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: 35.45pt;line-height:normal">This punishment was worse than I remembered it being. The only consolation was that the lunch tasted less awful than usual. I sat there, trying to let my mind wander as I chose words at random, only this time, I tried to organize the words better by adding bullet points. It seemed to work, I couldn’t remember the words I copied. After the bell rang, I took a look at the paper. The moment of truth had come.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: 35.45pt;line-height:normal">What is this, I thought. There was no denying it, in spite of my efforts, my random words were random words. There was nothing else to it. What did I do wrong this time, I wondered. Perhaps I’d have to try again.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">I had to go to work after school that day, so I didn’t have a chance to try copying Rachel’s dictionary. I had a part-time job at a store my dad owned. I did what they called “monkey work”. Today, my job was to copy term receipts from the president’s day sale, so I sat at the copy machine trying to figure out a way to know what happened in the future.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">After I was done, I had to go to our Family Meeting at my half-mother’s house. Josef talked to us about prayer and its potential power.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: 35.45pt;line-height:normal">“Many people in the world pray wrong. They don’t let their prayers come from the heart, I feel that this is being neglected in you guys. Over in the Mormon church, they have their prayers written beforehand. You may think of that as a silly thing, but how many of you are doing that every night? In fact, how many of you are even saying your prayers every night?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent: 35.45pt;line-height:normal">[iv]He seemed to be talking straight to me. I knelt up on my bed and pondered these things in silence. Maybe that was all I needed. Thinking back on my life, I only gave enough prayers to fill a saucer. There was only one time I remember in which I wholeheartedly prayed for something, and it worked very well, and I had no doubt that prayer could get my memories back.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal;tab-stops:171.0pt">“My Father in Heaven. I come before and thank thee for the blessings you- thou hast given me, and I ask thee to please give me my memories back. I need them to- to make use of this gift you’ve given me.” I finished off by praying for various other things and lay back down. I was now confident that I would wake up tomorrow morning with all my memories.