History of the Trap: May Shadows Part 7

SYNOPSIS:  After being visited in prison by Morgan LaDona Tigh, Lance Martin has agreed to Dr. Duncan's request to detail what happened in the time that Lance is calling "the Trap."  Lance begins his journal by describing the morning before the trap fell, where we learn his father was the Principal of Loren High, that Lance is a Junior, and has a sister named Diane who is a sophomore.  After a couple hours at school that morning, where we see how different his relationship with Morgan is.  We meet Lance's best friend, Artie Pentler, and their gang. Just as Lance is ready to ask Ginny Estill out, the Trap falls, and they witness the horrible death of two P. E. students as they are caught in some kind of electrical storm.  The students soon realize, as April marches on, that the so-called storm is something more, and that they may be trapped at the school and it's grounds for a very long time.  As May starts up, a grizzly murder is discovered.  Mr. Franks, the substitute math teacher is found dead in a janitorial closet. The murder remains unsolved, as Lance's father and staff struggle to come to grips with events.  They decide to schedule more activities for the students to become involved with, including a dance and a TV variety show. Lance slowly learns that Ginny is more interested in Artie than him.

7

My Dad's plan to keep us more occupied was working, in a way.  It was hard to keep the harsh reality of the situation away from us.  It was now May 29th, a full six weeks after the trap fell.  We knew whatever happened to us was more than a freak weather event that was going to dissipate.  We actually knew with less and less certainty, each day that passed, if we really knew what was going on.  There was still hope that it would one day end.  Much faith was placed in the hands of the Tunnel Team.

Two of our group had joined the Tunnel Team.  They were still in the planning stages, led by David Yankovich.  As arrogant as he was, his certainty that he could get us out of this was infectious.  Tom Bodell, our resident shop wizard, had volunteered, and was assisting David in bringing his fancier concepts to practical life.  Another of Artie's pals, Jim Kurrash, was ready to lend his stocky, sturdy physical help to the cause.

The evening meal became a major gathering point for our group.  Jim and Tom were telling us about the latest developments with the Tunnel.  "We're going to start off the end of the fallout shelter.  I think we'll have it organized enough to start digging the first week of June."

"They found the end of the fallout shelter?"  joked Artie.  The fallout shelter had been a great surprise, with many more supplies stocked down there than anyone anticipated.  Food was still not yet a problem, although my Dad was starting to get worried.  Thankfully, he and Mr. Bruschow were making progress on planting a larger garden.  Mr. Bruschow had found a large cache' of seeds, and gardening was well on its way.  Robert Bond and Lisa Carlton were part of the agricultural team.

"Yes, in a way.  They found an end at the Southside corridor.  The rest, no one's quite sure, but we think so.  Somebody will report they found an end, and then somebody will go down later and find that there's more," said Tom.

"That's not really possible, you know that?" asked Sue Boschman.  She still looked very proper and in place, her large glasses glaring.  She worked as a teacher's aide in the Math Department.  She was still sold on the idea that this was a government conspiracy.  As other more obvious reasons faded away, I was beginning to wonder if she was right,

"I know," replied Tom.  "But, nevertheless, that's what happens.  I guess people just think they've found the end and are mistaken.  It's easy to lose your bearings down there."

Sue just nodded skeptically.  She and Lisa had been hanging with our group more and more over time.  In Sue's case, she seemed to be around more when Tom was with us.  There was an interesting match.  Out resident pragmatic mechanic being crushed by the intelligent but slightly deranged Sue Boschman.  I don't know why Lisa was hanging out with our group more.  Maybe just because Sue was.

Lisa smiled at me as I looked around and saw her.  Lisa was also help with the agricultural effort, but more in the lab trying to figure out to make maximum use of the seeds and stuff that we had.  She also had maintained her appearance well, wearing jeans and a blue work shirt.  Her long, blonde hair looked clean, and we had had that dance a couple weeks ago, it sure smelled...nice.  Like Sue, she also wore glasses, but her were smaller framed, almost like granny glasses.

Ginny and her sister Mary were with us.  Ginny sat close to Artie.  I had not seen many explicit signs of affection, but they did seem to be around each other a lot.  They both worked in maintenance, although Ginny's job was more painting and brightening things up, and Artie's more about keeping the floors and walls clean.  Mary was in laundry and clothes repair, but she also was in the choir.  She had a very sweet soprano voice.

Jerry Mack was with us, but still looking very fragile.  He had not been assigned anything yet, and probably wouldn't be until his heath was more secure.  He didn't say much, but was very engrossed in what others had to say. His face lit up most when Artie spoke.  But didn't we all.

Me?  I had the goofiest job of all, I would think.  The Lookout Variety Hour of Power was looking for more material, and they had me try me hand at writing a skit, which I also played a small part in.  It was a soap opera spoof I called The Sands of Loren.  It seemed pretty silly, but it proved to be hugely popular.  So now I had been tasked with writing weekly segments to be featured on the Hour of Power.  So I had to figure out how to turn a one shot gimmick into a continuing series.  It sounded cushy, but it was actually a real pain.  It was in such demand that nobody really questioned the type of assignment that the principal's son drew. I assisted with enough other things, like latrine duty and some agricultural stuff with my Dad, that it balanced out.

Supper was wrapped up with everyone's favorite, diarrhea pudding, made in part with powdered milk, cocoa, and water.  What most of us wouldn't give for a Roscoe's Twinner Cake or Hollywood Milk Shake Candy Bar.  There was still food, but it was more repetitive and less appealing.  The garden, if it could get steaming along, was going to be true miracle.  Just the thought a fresh baked potato or a fresh, ripe strawberry set my mouth to water.

We started to get up to leave, and I looked over at Ginny.  She gave me a warm, friendly smile.  It should have made me feel good but it just pierced my heart.  It was so hard to have these strong feelings for her and realize that they may never be returned, that she actually probably favored another.  And it wasn't like she stomped my heart and was gone for good.  She was right there with us, most of the time.  I had to be nice and friendly when I was crying inside, when my soul was sinking.  Would have been easier if I didn't see her so much?  I don't know.  To think about that also made my heart ache.  Maybe love was just supposed to be hurt.

Lisa Carlton came up to me.  I could smell her hair.  It was an intoxicating, pleasant odor.  I wondered what she could be using that was so much different than everybody else.  "Hey, Lance," she said.  "Need any help with the script tonight?  I type with exceptional speed, and I'm a very good grammarian."

I looked at her blankly, my heart somewhere else.  "No, that's nice, but I think I just need to get away by myself and think about things for awhile.  But I'll keep your offer in mind.  Thanks."

And I walked away, caught in a foggy trap of my own design.