“That sounds kind of, like, I don’t know, crazy,” Lu said between bites of her tuna sandwich. “Cool but crazy.”
Theo, Lu, and I had our own spot in the corner of the busy cafeteria, away from the lunchtime chaos.
“You say that like I don’t already know,” I said.
“All righty,” Theo said. “We need to examine the facts.”
Theo McLean, fact examiner. If I were harsh, I’d say he was a nerd, but it’s not cool to put somebody down with labels. But man, he was a nerd. He was smart too. Straight-A smart. Except for gym.
We were like three different pieces of a very odd puzzle. Between Theo, a black guy who looked as though he should be rubbing elbows at a yacht club; Lu, with her Asian roller-derby-girl look, black tights, plaid shirts, and bold makeup; and me, a white guy who wore the same jeans and T-shirts every day until they were so stiff, they could stand up in the corner, we looked like the cast of some kids’ show trying to cover all its ethnic bases. It would be a grand slam if we had a Hispanic friend. Or maybe a Tongan.
“What’s to examine?” I said. “I saw things that weren’t there.”
“But what caused it?” Theo said thoughtfully while squeezing his earlobe the way he always did when he was thinking hard. “You were stressed because of the whole Winser thing.”
“I wasn’t stressed. I was triumphant.”
“Yeah!” Lu exclaimed, and gave me a high five. “That was, like, awesome.”
“Why was it like awesome?” Theo asked, irritated. “If it was like awesome, then it wasn’t awesome. It was something else.”
“So you’re not, like, annoying?” Lu asked him. “You’re just annoying?”
“Exactly!” Theo declared. “Wait, what?”
“Nerd.”
“Can we get back to my problem?” I asked.
Theo continued in his best “I’m giving a lecture to those less gifted than me, so I must speak slowly and clearly” voice. “It’s not just about Winser. You’ve been having issues with your parents.”
“Issues? Is that what you call it? We’re at each other’s throats twenty-four seven.”
“I’d call that an issue,” Lu said with a wink.
“The mind is an amazing thing,” Theo explained. “Maybe you’re seeking shelter in some kind of fantasy that you know isn’t real but offers a form of relief.”
“How is being chased by a raging bull supposed to give me relief?”
“The bull could represent your mother,” Theo explained, in full professor mode. “She’s charging at you all the time. And the guy in the bathrobe could be your father. He’s quiet most of the time, but it sounds like he’s trying to communicate with you. Maybe give you a message.”
Lu and I sat staring at Theo for a solid ten seconds.
“That’s deep,” Lu finally said. “Totally stupid, but deep.”
“It’s not stupid,” Theo snapped. “You two are suggesting that something supernatural is going on here, but this isn’t a horror movie. In real life there are always logical explanations.”
“Maybe the logical explanation is that something supernatural is going on,” Lu said, suddenly sounding very serious.
“I do not accept that!” Theo shot back angrily.
“Jeez, take it easy, professor,” Lu said. “We’re just trying to figure this out.”
Theo had suddenly gotten really upset. I didn’t know why. It wasn’t like he was the one going through the weirdness. I stood up to put an end to the debate.
“Stop! You guys are no help,” I said, and tossed my brown lunch bag into a distant trash bin. Three points.
“What are you going to do?” Lu asked me.
“Pretend like it didn’t happen.”
“What if you see something else weird?” Theo asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess it’ll mean I’m, like…crazy. Or just plain crazy. Later.”
I lied. I couldn’t pretend as though it hadn’t happened. For the rest of the day, my eyes kept wandering to classroom doors and windows. I was afraid that I might see the guy in the bathrobe. It was a good thing none of the teachers called on me, because I wasn’t listening to anything they were saying.
When school ended, I showed up for my second day of detention. I was told to go to the computer lab, and when I got there, who did I see was my detention monitor?
Winser.
Great. Just what I needed.
“Four more days, Mr. O’Mara,” he said without making eye contact. “It’ll give you time to think about how to change your belligerent attitude.”
I didn’t say a word. I had more things to worry about than sparring with an old bully with ugly neckties.
The computer lab was empty. Once again I was the only one in detention. What was up with that? Didn’t anybody else in this school get in trouble?
“Use your time wisely,” Winser said. “Go online and do homework. I have better things to do than babysit you.”
With that, he left the room, and I was alone.
Yes! An hour of uninterrupted online time. There were two long rows of desks, with a laptop on each. I sat at one in the dead center, cracked my knuckles, and went to work. I started by going to some sports sites. From there I went to YouTube, but it was blocked. So were gaming sites. And Instagram. Block. Block. Block. The school made sure that any site worth going to was off-limits. Then I got an idea. Maybe it was desperate, but it was worth a shot. I went to Google, and in the search box I typed the words Surrender the key.
I hit Enter…and the computer screen instantly went blank.
Odd. I hit a few more keys, but nothing worked. I was about to flick the power switch to do a restart when the screen flashed back to life, along with all the others. Each and every monitor flashed multiple images, as if a high-speed search engine had kicked in. I got fleeting glimpses of pictures, Web pages, and text that blew by in a blur. Then, one by one, the computers settled on a page. The same page. It started with the computers farthest away from me, followed by the others. Every computer stopped on the same Google search page.
The top result read: WEST SIDE MAN PLUNGES TO HIS DEATH FROM ROOF OF APARTMENT BUILDING.
It seemed as though some poor guy was killed when he jumped off a building in New York City. I clicked on the top search result. It was as if all the computers were synced up, because as soon as I hit the link, they all simultaneously changed to the same Web page.
It was a newspaper website. In bold letters the top headline read: FATAL PLUNGE! It was dated a few days ago. I scrolled down to read the following story:
At approximately midnight on Friday, Michael Swenor, 33, a New York City firefighter, fell from the roof of the apartment building where he lived with his wife and young son. He was pronounced dead at the scene by paramedics, who were alerted by a 911 call. The incident is being investigated, though foul play is not suspected. Authorities are not ruling out suicide.
What a horrible thing. The guy died a nasty death, and nobody knew why.
I scrolled down to see a picture of the guy, and my heart stopped. At least, that was what it felt like. I threw myself back into the chair as if the picture were radioactive.
It was the guy in the bathrobe.
No mistake. It was a black-and-white shot of a guy in a firefighter’s uniform, looking straight at me, just as he had in the classroom. And in my yard.
“O’Mara!” Winser shouted as he entered the room.
My computer screen instantly flipped and turned to fuzz. The other computers did too. Pop! Pop! Pop! I hadn’t touched a thing, but they all started going snaky. One by one they winked off and went dark.
“Why are you messing with all the computers?” Winser asked gruffly as he hurried into the room.
“I…I’m not,” I said, trying to keep my brain from going as wonky as the computers. “I was only working on this one.”
Winser went to one of the computers and tried to power it up. It wouldn’t start. He tried another. And another. Nothing.
“They’re all fried,” Winser said, his anger rising. “What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything!” I shouted. “Honest! They all just turned on by themselves!”
“Unacceptable!” Winser declared.
I was in deep trouble. I was going to have to face his wrath, and the wrath of the principal. A huge storm was about to hit that was sure to follow me home. But none of that mattered. All I could think about was the face of the guy in the newspaper. The guy in the bathrobe.
He was real.
He had a name.
Michael Swenor.
And he was dead.