EPILOGUE: SATURDAY

HUDSON SAT BY THE WINDOW AT Taco Bell and waited for Pancake and Maggie to show. Three empty cups sat on the table in front of him. It wasn’t an expensive celebration, but he was buying.

Dad sat across from him. “I’m proud of you, Son. Have I mentioned that in the last few days?”

“Only a couple hundred times.” Hudson was fortunate that way. “The truth is, I made a total mess of things.”

“But in the end —when you realized your mistakes —you made up for them . . . and then some.”

It had felt good spilling everything to his mom and dad after the near tragedy at school. He only wished he had told them everything sooner. “God bailed me out,” Hudson said. “You know it, and I know it.”

“All the more reason why I serve Him with gratitude.”

Hudson totally got that.

Maggie walked in. She was way early, and she hesitated —like she didn’t want to interrupt.

Hudson’s dad stood and motioned her over. “I’m just leaving. Hudson and I will catch up more later.” He gave Maggie a hug. “I’m proud of you, too.” He shrugged on his jacket and headed for the exit. “If you need a ride home again, just call.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Hudson said. “I think we’re going to be here awhile.”

Maggie unzipped her hoodie and sat across from him. “Robin Hood, I presume?”

He gave a little wave.

She glanced under the table. “No tights.”

“Yeah, it was a little too chilly today.”

Maggie giggled. “So what do I call you? Robin? Robbie? Ro-bear?”

“My really close friends call me Hudson.”

She looked at him for a moment. “Hudson it is.” She picked up a straw and tore off the wrapper. “I think, deep down, I knew it was you —even before you told Jo.”

“Disappointed?”

Maggie shook her head. “Relieved.”

And that was about as serious as Hudson wanted to get for now. “Well, I’m just relieved the whole thing is over.”

Maggie studied him. “If I know you as good as I think I do, it isn’t over for you. You’ve started something.”

Pancake pushed through the door and waved. “It looks like you two have met.” He hustled to the table and picked up the stack of cups. “I’ll pour.” He walked over to the soda machine.

“Did your mom,” Maggie hesitated, “get the axe?”

Hudson shook his head. “The mayor wouldn’t hear of it. My mom got a friendly warning about leaving the computer unattended, but that was it. He suggested I do some major hours of community service —as long as it has nothing to do with that media room.”

Maggie smiled. “Well if you need help . . .”

“Believe me, I’ll take it,” Hudson said. “Pancake is on board too.”

“You got off easy,” Maggie said. “You know that? Sounds like the mayor is a decent guy.”

Hudson nodded. “And he’s actually gotten some really good press through all this. My mom says there’s talk of him running for State Representative.”

“Really?” Maggie smiled. “With your knack for getting news crews and publicity, maybe he’ll want you for his campaign manager.”

“I’ve got very forgiving parents,” Hudson said, “but let’s not push it.”

Pancake set the three cups on the table, along with a handful of packets of hot sauce. “Sweet tea for Magpie, Cherry Pepsi for Hudz, and a Pepsi for me. How’d I do?”

Hudson poked a straw through the lid. “Perfect.”

“Absolutely,” Maggie said. “What’s with the hot sauce?”

Pancake tore a packet open with his teeth, squirted the hot sauce on his tongue, and took a sip from his straw. “Just putting a little fire in the Pepsi.” He slid a packet to her. “Wanna try?”

She swept the sauce back like it was a bug. “Eww. No thanks.”

Pancake held the packet by the top edge and shook it. “Do you realize we’ve gone two days in a row without one of us pulling the fire alarm at school? It just doesn’t feel right, you know?”

Maggie held up one hand like she was making a solemn promise. “I will never —in my entire life —pull one again.”

“Right.” Pancake nodded like he didn’t believe a word. “Unless one of your friends needs help. Then everybody between you and the fire alarm better look out.”

She stuck out her tongue. “Friends are different.”

Hudson took a couple gulps of his drink.

“Mr. Mann is doing another giant superhero cutout,” Pancake said. “Guess who.”

“No idea.”

“Robin Hood —you know —from the old Disney movie. And he’ll be wearing Red Converse All Stars.”

Maggie frowned. “Robin Hood isn’t exactly a superhero.”

Pancake snickered and glanced at Hudson. “To me he is.”

Time to change the topic. “What’s the latest on Giovanna?” Hudson was almost afraid to ask. Even as of yesterday, there were too many rumors flying around Southfield to know what was true.

“I just came from talking to her mom. Jo’s at Alexian Brothers.”

Pancake set down his Pepsi. “Psych ward?”

“The proper term is Mental Health Ward, but yeah. She’ll be released soon,” Maggie said.

“So, you haven’t actually talked to her or anything?”

“Not yet. Her mom has been a courier, though, delivering notes back and forth between us.” Maggie looked like she was going to tear up. “She sounds good —even though it’s just a note. She can’t wait to get back. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

Pancake ripped open another packet of hot sauce. “Think they’ll let her back?”

“At Southfield? I hope so. Mrs. Jackson asked how I’d feel, one way or another.”

“She’ll do the right thing,” Hudson said. “And whether Giovanna’s back at school in a week —or a month . . . I have a feeling she’ll be hanging with the Red Shoe Brigade.”

Maggie looked like she wanted to say something, but needed to build up the nerve. “You guys would be okay with her joining our little group?”

Pancake shrugged. “It might depend on how Giovanna feels about hot sauce.”

She stomped on his foot. “Watch it, Flapjack. I’m serious.” She looked at Hudson —the question still in her eyes.

He looked from Maggie to Pancake. “We’re friends —the three of us.” He looked directly at Maggie. “And a friend of yours is our friend too. It may be a little awkward at first. But we can totally do it. We need to.”

Maggie nodded. “I was hoping you’d say something like that.”

For a moment, the three of them were quiet —but it was a good quiet.

Maggie kicked his leg lightly. “Did you get your paper turned in yesterday?”

“Creating Change.” Hudson gave a half laugh. “Yep. Pancake and I put it right into Cutter’s hands.”

“And did you bring me a copy of it like I asked?”

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “Not the whole thing. Just the conclusion.”

“Read it out loud,” Maggie said. “I want to hear it in your voice.”

Hudson took the paper and scanned the empty dining room. “Here?”

“Read,” Maggie said in a don’t-mess-with-me tone.

Hudson cleared his throat, took a sip of his Cherry Pepsi, and started reading.

The shortest distance between two points is a straight line. But it isn’t always the safest —or the best —route. Sometimes a person needs to take a roundabout way to get where they need to go —especially when it comes to creating change.

I went into this project thinking I could change the bullying situation if I stood up and was strong enough. Then I thought social pressure was the key. But things got worse.

Somewhere along the way I lost my compass. I was so dialed-in to the idea of stopping the bullying thing that I took shortcuts. I went from protecting my friends to punishing those who hurt them. I became the very thing I’d been fighting against.

Giovanna wasn’t the only one who needed saving Wednesday. I needed to be rescued —from me —and the bully I was becoming. I was busy trying to change others but totally blind to the changes needed in me. Thankfully God opened my eyes.

In the end, change happened when my perspective shifted to see how others were hurting. Change happened when I chose to be kind to those who hadn’t been kind to me. Change happened when I treated others the way I wanted to be treated. Change happened in others only after I’d made some hard changes in me. I learned that sometimes the best way to change others —is to start with yourself.

Bullying hurts people —and it needs to stop. Even though my “project” is over, I’ll wear the red shoes —every Wednesday. I hope you join our Red Shoe Brigade too. Know that I’ll wear those shoes as a show of support for you —the bullied —whoever you are. I’ll work on being strong, but kind. A protector, not a punisher. I’ll encourage others with what I say and do —not tear them down. I’ll try a whole lot harder to see things from the perspective of others —not just from my own eyes. Reckless words pierce like a sword. That ancient proverb is true. And I’m so done with using my words as weapons. That proverb goes on to say . . . but the tongue of the wise brings healing. I’m going to work at being wise. To encourage those who feel beaten down. To help those who feel broken.

The shortest distance between two points may be a straight line . . . but there are no shortcuts when it comes to creating real change —especially with bullying. I get that now. So I’m lacing up my Chucks and taking the high road . . . the narrow road . . . the road less travelled . . . or whatever you want to call it. And I hope to see you there, because creating real change starts in my heart . . . and in yours. With us.

Hudson folded the paper and set it on the table.

Tears were rolling down Maggie’s cheeks. “I was right. It isn’t over for you.”

Pancake swiped back tears too. He fanned his tongue. “Too much hot sauce.”

Funny how Hudson had thought going to the public school would be the worst thing. And maybe it was —for a while. But he sure liked how things were turning out. Pancake and Maggie . . . it seemed like he’d known them forever. And somehow he knew they’d all stick together —no matter what.

Maggie blew out a breath of air. “You earned yourself an A+ on that one, Hudson Taylor Sutton.”

“Cutter hasn’t graded it yet.”

“I wasn’t talking about him. It’s an A+ in my book.”

Oh yeah. He’d made some really good friends. “I can live with that.” And at that moment he felt he was supposed to be there. With them. At Southfield. To be a friend and maybe help create change in a better way. God’s way this time.

He could live with that too.