The Instructions (136 page)

10:21 AM: C3 (
C1
; C4; C6;
C9
)

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THE INSTRUCTIONS

BLEACHERS

(FIVE BOYS GRASPING THE SLEEVES AND SHOULDERS

OF A SIXTH BOY IN A BLACK HAT WHO APPEARS TO BE

STRAINING AGAINST THEM; VIRGINIA PINGE, SITTING

BEHIND THE SIX, LEANS IN STERNLY, GESTICULATES

WITH HER ARMS.)

10:21 AM: C1 (C3;
C4
;
C6
;
C9) WILLIAM BAXTER

(BOWS AT WAIST, SITS)

COACH RONALD DESORMIE

(AT HALF-COURT MICROPHONE, USING OWN MEGA-

PHONE)

And finally, the best of the best who’s been saved for last, and for that very reason. The all-time high-scorer in the Western Division of the North Shore Conference. Averaging twenty-nine points per game last year, this player had a regular-season high of thirty-six points and a playoff high of forty-three. He triple-doubled in ten of twelve regular season games. He’s made team Illinois for two years running and was the first seventh-grader in America to ever start at center on a state team at the junior-high varsity level. He’s never flubbed a tip-off.

He’s never blown a dunk. He’s ninety-three percent at the line. When the clutch is on, this one goes to eleven. And that’s just the numbers.

He’s got what’s known as touch. He’s got what’s referred to as drive.

Whistle blows, he enters an atemporal and totally nonspatial area 1282

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that we in the coaching profession like to call the zone. And he stays there. He’s an athlete with more gumption than a locomotive, a born leader with more leadership skills than all the Ghandis and Reagans to the millionth power
combined
, and he’s a non-parallel natural talent who plays basketball better than eagles fly, better than snakes bite, better than cats land on their feet and dogs are man’s best friend. This is the guy you gotta foul to even begin to think about having a prayer to stop him—and even then. This is the guy who is the heart of the team that is the soul of the school that is the one you go to which is Aptakisic. People… I give you Co-Captain Alpha of your very own Indians: BAM. BAMMIN. VON BAMMENSTEIN. SLOKUM!

AUDIENCE (OFFSCREEN)

(CLAPPING AND WHISTLING)

BARNUM SLOKUM

(RISES FROM CHAIR NEAR HALF-COURT)

COACH RONALD DESORMIE

(AT HALF-COURT MICROPHONE, USING OWN MEGA-

PHONE)

Behold the man!

(PUMPS FIST IN AIR; WITH FREE HAND, PLAY-PUNCHES

BARNUM SLOKUM’S SHOULDER)

BARNUM SLOKUM

(REMOVES HALF-COURT MICROPHONE FROM CLAMP;

STANDS CONTRAPPOSTO, DANGLING HALF-COURT

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MICROPHONE BY CORD AT SIDE, NODDING SLOWLY,

AFFIRMATIVELY)

AUDIENCE (OFFSCREEN)

(CLAPPING AND WHISTLING OVER SWELLING

MICROPHONE FEEDBACK FROM HALF-COURT

MICROPHONE)

10:24 AM: C6 (
C4
; C3;
C6;
C9
) BLEACHERS

(STUDENTS AND TEACHERS APPLAUDING WILDLY,

WHISTLING)

10:23 AM: C1 (C2; C3; C4;
C6
;
C8; C9) BARNUM SLOKUM

(BRINGS HALF-COURT MICROPHONE TO CHIN)

Will you let me holler at you for a minute.

10:23 AM: C6 (
C1
;
C2
;
C3
;
C4
;
C5
;
C7
;
C8;
C9
) BLEACHERS (PANNING)

(STUDENTS AND TEACHERS APPLAUDING WILDLY,

WHISTLING, SHOUTING “HOLLER”)

(THREE BLONDE GIRLS WITH SIMILAR HAIRCUTS

BLOWING KISSES; THREE OTHERS SHOUTING, “WE

LOVE YOU BAM!”)

(RED-HAIRED GIRL, ONE EYE SHUT, SIGHTING

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THROUGH IMAGINARY RIFLE)

10:23 AM: C7 (C1; C2; C3; C4; C5;
C6
;
C8; C9) BARNUM SLOKUM

(AT HALF-COURT MICROPHONE; REMOVES BROADSHEET

FROM JACKET AND UNFOLDS, HOLDS IT UNDER EYES)

I’m tall.

AUDIENCE (OFFSCREEN)

(EMITS SHUSHING SOUNDS, GROWS QUIET)

BARNUM SLOKUM

(AT HALF-COURT MICROPHONE, BRANDISHING

BROADSHEET)

According to this I’m tall. The
Twin Groves Weekly Eagle
says I’m tall and my height lets me to dunk, and it’s why I win tip-offs. My fighter-pilot vision, says the
Weekly Eagle
, grants me access to the angle of the ball’s spin be
fore
it hits the boards, and those needles I thread when I get in the lane I already spotted from way back at half-court—according to this. This rag here’s sports editor says

“Slokum is Justice of the Peace at the wedding of game-smarts and preternatural reflexes.” Says I make use of the power vested in me to anticipate blocks I’ll put to shots the guy I’m guarding doesn’t yet know he’ll take. Says my body’s toned in places most people don’t even have musculature, and, paired with my perfect skeletal symmetry, this allows me to maintain balance amid all kinds of dirty elbowplay. Says the Indians are unstoppable as long as I’m in the game. Says the Eagles have to take me out. Well let me tell you 1285

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something. Can I tell you something. Can I show you something.

Will you let me holler at you some more.

AUDIENCE (OFFSCREEN)

(SHOUTS OF “HOLLER” FOLLOWED BY SHUSHING

SOUNDS, THEN QUIET)

BARNUM SLOKUM

(SLINGS HALF-COURT MICROPHONE OVER SHOULDER,

HALVES BROADSHEET, QUARTERS BROADSHEET,

EIGHTHS BROADSHEET, SIXTEENTHS BROADSHEET,

THROWS BROADSHEET CONFETTI OVER SHOULDER;

BRINGS HALF-COURT MICROPHONE TO CHIN)

Weekly Eagle
, regal beagle. We’ve won all our games since I joined varsity two years back: that’s true. It’s true I’m tall, it’s true I’m a serious player, and it’s true the Aptakisic Indians are unstoppable.

But no matter what any hack at the enemy school’s newspaper writes or thinks, the Aptakisic Indians aren’t unstoppable because I’m tall, and we’re not unstoppable because I’m a serious player. We’re not unstoppable because I got backup from my excellent Co-Captain William “The Co-Captain” Baxter or Lonnie “Blonde Lonnie” Boyd either. We’re not unstoppable because of any one of the players or even all of the players. The Aptakisic Indians are unstoppable because the Aptakisic Indians are the Aptakisic Indians. And the Aptakisic Indians are the Aptakisic Indians because we go to school with you, understand. With
you
. That’s what the enemy doesn’t want you to know. And yeah, we’ll win this afternoon and you’re behind us and all of us know that. And yeah, to some people it might look like 1286

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you’re behind us
because
we’ll win this afternoon, but what I’m telling you is we’ll win this afternoon because
you’re behind us
. That’s what we’re here for, in this gym. Right now. To get rallied. By you.

You’re
rallying
us, understand. You’re showing us you’re behind us.

We’re
all
Indians here, and even though it’s the basketball players who bring the victory and even though it’s the basketball players who get the most props for the victory, the basketball players are only the right arm of the entire student body, and an arm, no matter how ripped, no matter how powerful, can’t operate independent of the body it’s attached to, can it. I’m saying it can’t. I’m saying
hell no
it can’t. Our strength makes you believe in us, sure, but your belief in us is what makes us strong. Aptakisic’s victories on the court are as much your victories as they are mine and the other players’. We are all equally responsible for and deserving of what we have and what we’ll get. I want you to understand that. I want you to believe that. And so when you get home tonight and your parents ask you what happened at the Indians-Eagles game, I don’t want you to say

“Bam was strong and our team was victorious.” And I don’t want you to say, “Our team was victorious and glory is upon them.” I want you to stop being so humble. I want you to say, “I was strong and I was victorious.”

AUDIENCE

(RISING APPLAUSE)

BARNUM SLOKUM

(PACING MIDCOURT TO THE LENGTHS THE HALF-

COURT MICROPHONE CORD ALLOWS; RAISES VOICE )

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I want you to say to your parents: “Tonight, on this bread of victory that I baked, I spread the butter of glory I churned with much dedication and elbow grease. Tonight I sup on my victory, Mom, on my glory, Dad. Would. You. Like. To try a bite?”

AUDIENCE

(ROARING)

BARNUM SLOKUM

(PACING MIDCOURT; VOICE RAISED)

And your parents, believe me—I don’t care what kind of relationship you’ve got with them—they’ll take you up on that offer. You share that sandwich with them—are you hearing me?—you share that glory sandwich with them and they’ll love you forever. Believe.

Believe, believe, believe. (STANDS AT HALFCOURT, GESTURES

UNTIL SILENCE COMES.) In closing: you guys are so great. And we on the floor here—we know it. And that’s another reason why we do this circus every year. Not just for the team to get rallied, understand, but for the team to show you its appreciation for the way you folks are
always
rallying us. It’s a beautiful, mutual thing that way, this pep rally, this school, and we’ve all had fun, it’s true, believe, but we’re about to have a lot more. The liontamer’s still prepping in the locker-room, so to speak—we’ll have to wait a few minutes for him to come out and emotionalize us. But in the meantime, I want you to give it up, and give it up heavy for ten jumping beauties in tiny skirts and tight sweaters. They build our pyramids.

They lead our cheers. They really know how to shake it. Put your hands together for Aptakisic Squaw Squad.

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I had twenty-one soldiers behind me. We divided the surplus ammo twenty-two ways. Then I divided the soldiers into platoons.

Vincie’s platoon (six total) would guard the fire alarm by the side-exit (three) and between the locker-room doors inside the gym (three). Ben-Wa’s (eight total) would establish three positions: one at the southern border of the B-Hall/Main-Hall junction (three), one across Main Hall along the northern border of the front entrance (three), and a third at the B-Hall fire-alarm near the B-Hall/2-Hall junction (two). Before entering the gym, we’d mug Jerry for his keys and lock all the classrooms in B-Hall.

Combined with the efforts of the Ben-Wa platoon, the B-Hall lockdown would ensure that anyone who fled the rally couldn’t get to an alarm we didn’t have soldiers on—they’d either have to pipeline through one of the gym doorways along the northern wall and go out the front entrance of the school, or go straight outside through the side-exit (pushbar-door) of the gym on the western wall.

The third platoon, Nakamook’s (seven), would target the Indians.

My platoon, of indeterminate number (me + June + The Five + Eliyahu + Ally’n’Googy + Berman + all unknown armed Israelites in the gym), would take care of the rest, reinforcing where needed.

I described the plans fast.

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Any questions? I said.

“I don’t want to sound like a pussy,” Mark Dingle said, “and I’m gonna do this anyway—but how we gonna all get away with it, like, after we take the school?”

I said, Hundreds of soldiers are coming here today. We hold the gym til they arrive. Then we turn ourselves in and I take responsibility. Simple as that.

“But we’ll be on camera, you said,” Forrest Kenilworth said.

“They’ll have us on tape,” said Stevie Loop. And Ansul said, “That’s evidence against us.”

I said, If we start this off right—if you all do what I tell you—

there’s gonna be a lot of kids in that gym bringing lots of damage—to us, to each other, to everyone. They’ll be on tape, too. It’ll look like a riot. Like no one’s in control. Like everyone’s guilty.

And even if we do it wrong—even if no one else rises up—even if we get
crushed
—then, like I said:
Hundreds of soldiers
. On their way here. On their way to see
me
. They’re all ditching school, they’re all carrying weapons, and they’re coming all the way from Chicago. If I can get them to do all of that, I can get you to do this—that’s what people will say when they see the tapes. They’ll say
I
did this. That I did
all of it
. Do you understand?

“Yes,” they all said.

Are there any more questions?

There were no more questions.

You’ve got three minutes to get to know your weapons, I said.

Vincie and Benji’ll show you how to use them. Shoot exactly how 1290

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they show you or your thumbs’ll get damaged and you’ll never hit your targets.

Vincie and Benji stepped forward to demonstrate.

I entered the bathroom and howled wolf.

“Stevenson High School. Principal Barney’s office.”

Who’s this? I said.

“This is Ms. Sampsel.”

Good, I said. We hoped it would be you. You were always kind to us. We always liked you.

“Who is this?” she said.

What’s important, Ms. Sampsel, is you deliver our message.

“Who is this?” she said.

We’re your savior, Ms. Sampsel, we’re the enemy who’ll save you, the only one who can. Only the love in the heart of your enemy: only our love can save you.

“Who—”

This is our message, Ms. Sampsel. Don’t fuck it up with silly questions, now. It’s only the love in the heart of your enemy, not the cops who are busy elsewhere, not the firemen stuck on the other side of town trying to save those who need no saving—you’ll see, Ms. Sampsel, you’ll call them up and they’ll call you a liar, they’ll tell you you’re pranking, you’ll feel like we do, every fucking day, EVERY! FUCKING! DAY! MS. SAMPSEL! It is only our love, the love of your enemy—only your enemy can save you, Ms. Sampsel. Tell it to Barney, tell it to the jocks, tell it to your congressman and President. Today we blow up your school out 1291