CHAPTER 54

HUDSON’S BIKE RIDE HOME from Pancake’s house Sunday morning was a weird mix of dread and excitement. He checked the back bumper of every car that drove by. He whipped out his phone and did his Captain’s Log update while he rode —including the details of Operation Bumper Billboard and the chase.

Somehow, everything felt different in the daylight. That urgency to get to his dad and spill everything he’d been doing? Gone. He’d have to talk to Dad about everything eventually, but just not yet. How would his dad react to the whole bumper sticker thing? If he saw it as vandalism —and he would —Dad would probably make him go to each home to scrape off the stickers and apologize. The whole social pressure potential would be lost. No, the best thing Hudson could do is let this play out a bit. Give the bumper stickers a chance to do some good. He got home with just enough time to shower and eat breakfast before church.

Dad sat at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee, scrolling down his phone. “How was the overnight?”

“Really good. I feel like I’ve known Pancake forever.”

“Glad you had a good time. Tell me about school. Going okay?”

Hudson stood at the counter and poured a bowl of Honey Smacks. This was definitely not the time to be getting into what was really going on. He needed to keep his back to his dad . . . or at least not give him a clear shot at seeing his eyes. Dad had a way of sensing when Hudson was holding back.

“Hudson?”

Great. “Classes are good. I really like Mr. Mann. And Mr. Cutter. I’m working on a project for his class about creating change.” Give information. Lots of information —but not the details that’ll get you in trouble. It was a cheap tactic —but it usually worked. He poured milk on his Smacks and walked it to the table.

“What type of change are you looking for?”

“How kids treat each other.” No hesitation. Another element of the tactic. “I’m looking at ways to help stop bullying for good.” In a way, he still wanted his dad to know everything. But what would he say about what Hudson had done last night?

“Any conclusions?”

Hudson made an exaggerated show of chewing and swallowing, trying to figure out exactly how to answer that one. “Social pressure is a big one. And like you said . . . if it gets physical, hit back harder.”

“I did say that. It makes bullies think twice about picking on you. But that was more of a short-term solution.”

Hudson nodded. “But they’ll leave that kid alone, don’t you think?”

Dad shrugged. “Just until the odds are in their favor.”

“But what if the kid doesn’t back down or run away? What if he fights them, and the bullies are in worse shape than he is? They’ll leave him alone for good, don’t you think?”

“Maybe,” Dad said. “But he’ll always need to be looking over his shoulder. And likely the bullies won’t truly change. They’ll just look for easier targets.”

Exactly what Hudson had been finding. He shoveled in another spoonful of Smacks.

“Have you seen much bullying at school?”

In a way this was the kind of direct question he’d hoped Dad would ask. One he’d have to answer. Then he could spill all this. But another part of Hudson told him he’d better not tell too much. Not yet. Just give Dad enough to make it look like Hudson had nothing to hide. “Definitely. There’s a girl in two of my classes —Maggie —she gets picked on by some of the other girls.”

Dad took a sip of his coffee.

“She wears red shoes and was getting teased about them —in a mean way. I’m trying to raise awareness about bullying —and the way she’s been treated —by encouraging others to wear red shoes. Forming a Red Shoe Brigade.”

“That’s why you spray-painted your Nikes?”

Hudson smiled. “Yeah —and Friday there were others who did the same. Even a teacher. I’m hoping we see even more tomorrow.”

“Nice work, Hudson. I like it,” Dad said. “Social pressure. That can help.”

Help? That’s it? “You don’t think that can create real change?”

His dad looked out the window. “Not long term.”

Hudson didn’t want to disagree, but wasn’t his dad missing something?

“Look, I’m not saying that fighting back isn’t necessary —because sometimes it is. And I’m not saying social pressure isn’t needed —because often that can really help. But these are only starting points. They usually aren’t enough to make lasting change.”

That’s exactly what he wanted —a change that would last beyond the project. “So what’s the answer?”

Dad took another sip of his coffee and sat quietly for a moment. “Hudson, I can tell you what I believe. But I’d like you to figure it out.”

This from the dad who was usually quick to give his opinion. “Seriously?”

“Let’s give it a few days. If you want me to tell you what I’ve learned, I will. But if you figure it out for yourself, it may just create a little change in you.”

Did he suspect anything? Hudson chanced a look into his dad’s eyes. No accusation there. Just love. Respect. “Okay.” Maybe it would be better for his project anyway. “But if I don’t figure it out —”

“You will.”

Mom breezed through the kitchen. “I don’t want to be late, boys. We’ve got to leave.”

Dad grabbed his keys off the counter, pocketed his phone, and gulped down his coffee.

Hudson had made it through the conversation without telling what was really going on. But now that he got what he wanted, he wasn’t so sure that was smart.

He rinsed his bowl in the sink and hustled to brush his teeth. What was his dad not saying? What was the secret to bringing lasting change? Hudson would figure it out. He was going to create real change. Not just for the project —or for himself. But for all those who were bullied. Standing strong was a good start. Social pressure was clearly moving things in the right direction too. Maybe the secret was about taking things to a new level. Maybe Dad was hinting that Hudson needed to do more than react to bullying incidents, but to attack this more head-on . . . more aggressively. Like what they’d done with the bumper stickers.

He couldn’t help but feel that of the two tactics he’d been using, social pressure was the most effective. Maybe his dad was suggesting that Hudson needed to keep playing offense until the bullying stopped.

Actually, that made a lot of sense. Don’t give the enemy a chance to regroup. But that meant he needed another plan. A way to put the squeeze on them with some serious social pressure. Bigger than the Robin Hood posts. Bigger than the Red Shoe Brigade. Bigger than Operation Bumper Billboard.

Bigger wasn’t always better though, was it? Sometimes bigger simply meant bigger risks and more trouble. And Hudson had a creepy feeling that was exactly where he was headed.