CHAPTER 76

HUDSON’S MOM SEEMED RELIEVED to have him join her in the studio Tuesday night. Since Lizzy was with Norah at Lily’s house, Mom would have been alone otherwise. He sat in one of the chairs at the control console. “How can I help?”

Help. That’s what he should be doing. But he was really only helping himself, wasn’t he? He felt that nudge, that sense that he was deliberately ignoring God on this whole thing. He pushed the thought out of his mind. Sort of.

She picked up the checklist that Erin had written. “I want to see if I can do this on my own first. Sit tight here while I get some things ready in the conference room. I’ll be back in five.”

Hudson wouldn’t need more than half that. The instant she left the studio, Hudson had his script out of his pocket and smoothed out on the table in front of him. He pulled up the program for the City Hall sign and keyed in his message in record time.

He set the message to scroll on at six a.m. —a full two hours before Mom would be at work. If all went according to plan, there’d be nobody in City Hall to stop it. Who knew how many early morning commuters would check the YouTube site the minute they arrived at work —or at the first red light they hit. Then they’d make calls. Neighbors. Friends. The word would spread way faster than the bumper sticker plan.

Not even four minutes had passed since his mom left the room, and he was completely done. His heart was doing the happy jig. He felt like some kind of international spy. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He had done it. And it had been incredibly easy. And yet there was another part of him that felt he had made a mistake. That he was doing it all wrong.

He peeked outside the studio. Mom was still busy in the conference room.

Just finish what you started, Hudson. Don’t overthink this. He unplugged the dedicated keyboard for the sign and hid it high on the rack of computer components and hard drives. No sense making it easy to remove the message from the sign. He stood back and eyeballed the hiding spot. Even he could hardly see it.

One by one the camera monitors came on. Hudson could see his mom hurrying around the conference room, wanting to make sure everything was set.

Hudson noticed a monitor hooked up to a desktop computer. Mom had it on —and open to the City Hall email account. He stared at it, his mind racing. Here was a chance to multiply the results. To get some publicity on this beyond anything he’d imagined. He whipped out his phone and texted Maggie and Pancake.

Get me the email for every local TV news network —fast. We wanted publicity, right? I’m going to send them a note from the City Hall email address and say it’s from the mayor. This will get us some REAL attention!

It would be beautiful. They’d wanted news crews involved. But now there’d be no worries about their phone calls being ignored by the networks because they sounded like kids. An email directly from Rolling Meadows City Hall? Foolproof. Efficient. Incredibly effective. And totally insane.

Mom breezed in a few minutes later and inspected the monitors. She looked really happy with herself —in a nervous sort of way. “So far, so good. How are you doing?”

Hudson couldn’t help smiling. “On top of the world.”

“Excuse me.” The mayor stood in the doorway, looking directly at Hudson. “Giving your mom a hand?”

Hudson stood. “Yes, sir.” Would the mayor still think they’d been hacked —now that he’d seen Hudson here? If he guessed Hudson was involved, that would definitely put Mom in a tough spot.

The mayor smiled. “I understand you helped avert a disaster last week.”

Hudson shrugged and glanced at the monitors. “Just a loose connection. No big deal.”

“All the same, I appreciate it.” The mayor pointed toward the conference room. “I’m going to borrow your mom for a few minutes to go over how I’d like her to handle some of the recording tonight.”

Hudson’s mom jumped to her feet. “Absolutely.” She followed the mayor to the conference room.

This was no time to second-guess his plan —and he couldn’t have asked for a better window. Hudson opened a blank email and stared at the page. City Hall’s address and phone were already at the bottom. Perfect. Hudson started the email immediately. He’d plug in the news media addresses as soon as he got them.

Subject: Controversial new plan to handle school bullies in Rolling Meadows

He had to make this sound totally official —and like something the networks wouldn’t want to miss.

Rolling Meadows City Hall is starting a new program to expose bullies in local schools. We hope that this will create some real social pressure —and will help make real changes. Please join us tomorrow morning, Wednesday, at 6 a.m. at our City Hall sign at Kirchoff Road and Owl Drive in the heart of Rolling Meadows. We’ll post the names of six kids involved in bullying at Southfield Middle School on the electronic message center for all to see. We’ll also reveal the YouTube channel showing some of the kids actually bullying others —so people can see what’s really going on.

He checked the camera monitors. Mom was there, talking to the mayor and several others. The phone in his pocket vibrated. Hopefully it was the addresses he needed. He dried his palms on his jeans and went back to the email.

We’re pretty sure this new plan is going to make some people really mad. And we’ll probably have some lawyer force us to change the sign soon after we post all this. But by that time we’ll have made our point. We’re serious about our Rolling Meadows motto, “Progress Through Participation.” Bullying is everyone’s problem, and we need the help of our public to beat it. We think we’re the first to try something like this. Come early so you don’t miss it —and the public reaction.

Working hard to create change,

Hudson typed the mayor’s name. Okay, so using the mayor’s name was totally stupid. And wrong. But it just might guarantee the networks wouldn’t ignore the email. Using the town motto was a good touch. Hopefully it would give the email a more authentic feel.

Hudson checked the camera monitor while he fished the phone out of his pocket. Pancake had them all. WGN. ABC. NBC. CBS. FOX. He keyed in their email addresses, checked them once, and paused —while his mind whipped up a little pop quiz.

You’re about to do something that is wrong. You will get caught —eventually. But it’s for a really good cause —and it might create some real change. What do you do?

Mom was nodding her head. Taking a step back. Okay, the little meeting with the mayor was breaking up. Make a decision, Hudson. Now.

There was no time to pray about it, and the question of what would Jesus do was ridiculous. They didn’t even have email in Bible times. Maybe doing this was wrong, but maybe he’d be doing an even bigger wrong by not sending the email.

He checked the studio monitor. Mom shook the mayor’s hand and stepped out of the video camera’s line of vision.

Do it. Don’t think —do it.

Hudson pushed the send button —and with that, the email was gone. Something inside him went with it, apparently. Whatever that thing inside him was, it must have been awfully big to leave him feeling as empty as he did at that moment. Instantly he broke out in a sweat —and clawed at the keyboard. As if he could somehow take the message back. Which was totally stupid.

He slid the keyboard back in place. Backed his chair away from the table. He stared at the monitor until the meteor shower screen saver appeared.

Hudson . . . what on earth did you just do? A little late for that question.

“I’m back.” Mom breezed in smiling. She stood looking at the monitors with her hands on her hips. “I’m no techie, but I’m pretty proud of this. I guess I’m not going to lose my job after all.”

Everything inside Hudson was falling. Down, down, down. Like a meteor shower.

She kissed him on the head. “I can’t tell you how reassuring it is just to have you here.”

Suddenly Hudson didn’t feel like an international spy anymore. He knew exactly what he was. A traitor.