History of the Trap May Shadows Part 9

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 sports,  a TV variety show, and the beginnings of the tunnel project.

9

It was the last of the colas.

 Being the Principal's son occasionally had its privileges.  Not near as many as most people thought, but it did have some.  Oscar Crowler, the Assistant Principal, had squirreled away one last bottle of a local cola, Schweiner's Cola, prepared with purified water from Lake Huron.  He gave it to me yesterday, saying it should be a student that drank it, not some tubby adult like him.  I was kind of surprised he chose me, but he was very loyal to my father, and it might have been a way of acknowledging that.

Regardless of Mr. Crowler's motivation, I was the recipient of his generosity.  I had to decide what to do with my treasure.  Should I keep it for some rare event or celebration?  It seemed pointless to keep until whatever trap we were in was lifted.  Then we could just go to Burger Chef and get what ever icy cold soft drink we wanted.  I decided instead to open it that night, that last night of May, and share it with another special person.  But who?

Artie Pentler, my best friend, did not drink sodas.  I had only seen him drink water or milk.  So the two major beverages we had, water and powdered milk were right up his alley.  He might not even perceive Schweiner's as a treat. 

I would love to share it with Ginny Estell, but it was sinking in that she was not as interested in me as she was Artie.  As attracted as I was to her, I could not bring myself to compete with Artie for her.  I would like to say it was strictly out of loyal friendship, but it was not.  In my heart, I felt like I was not as good as Artie and that there was no way I could compete with him.

I could share it with Artie's gang (including Tom Bodell, Jim Kurrash, Robert Bond and Jerry Mack).  But as much as I liked those guys, that did not just seem as intimate or special enough. 

I passed on the idea of my own family as well.  Like Artie, my Dad did not touch pop, and my sister would want to bring in her boyfriend and then it would be more about those two than me.  Selfish, I know.

My Dad was on another inspection tour of the grounds and building, and would not be coming back to his office.  He would spend the night sleeping in the teacher's lounge, which had been converted into sleeping quarters for the administrators.  He could easily sleep in his own office by himself, but he wanted to be more engaged than that. 

I had taken a key from his desk earlier in the day, and now used it to open the door for myself and my guest.

She came in with me, and we did not say a word to each other as we sat on the floor by my father's desk.  I was surprised that she so readily agreed to come, but any positive reaction from a girl surprised me.

I pried open the bottle top with a letter opener from my father's desk.  It took more effort to remove it than I initially thought, but it finally popped off and it flew across the room as if I were uncorking champagne.  It fizzed a bit, and then I poured a small amount into the two Dixie Cups that I had brought with me.

She took the cup from me.  She brought it closer, and her nose wrinkled a bit at the bubbles.  I thought it made her look very cute.  Her long blond hair hung close to her face, flat but clean.  She wore thick glasses, but had big expressive eyes, hazel brown in color.  Her skin was clear and her nose a bit long and pointed, her lips a little too thin.  No, she was not as pretty as Ginny Estill, but who was?  But she was attractive in her own right, and interestingly, the more I got to know her, the more attractive she became.

She put her it to her lips and took a dainty swallow.  She immediately choked and coughed, almost spilling the contents in her cup. 

"What's the matter?" I asked.  "Has it gone bad?"

"No, I don't think so," she answered.  "I don't drink a lot of pop, so I'm not really sure."

"You don't?  Well, if you don't really like pop, why did you want to come drink it with me?"

"Oh, Lance," she said with a sigh.  "Sometimes, for somebody so smart, you can be pretty thick."

Then it hit me.  She had not given me any sign of it, but I should have known earlier.  She was the one who had chosen to work with plants and gardening.  She was the one who was concerned about the nutritional effects of our diet.  She was the pretty and off the charts intellectual Lisa Carlton.  Well, if she wasn't here for the pop, why was she here?

Slowly, steadily, the logs lifting from my eyes, I became a little less thick.

"I have a boyfriend, you know. He's a freshman at Huron University.  He's very smart, and well, very tall. He is really kind and nice to me.  It's just that..." She paused, tearing up a bit.  "I'm not really sure I'll ever see him again."

I know I shouldn't have.  I just followed my instincts.  I put my arm around her.  "That must be very hard."  She leaned into me, and I swear, her body almost purred like a kitten.  Maybe that was just her slight shivering.

"You remind me of him, you know.  You are kind and a good listener, you're very smart, and you're funny.  Not tall.  I mean, that's okay, it's just a difference.  It's not that important"

And she stayed in my arms and we talked.  And talked.  Long into the night.  As long as I had talked to anybody in a long, long time.

The only girl I had ever kissed was Carol Dietrich, whom I had dated a few times, and then had broken up with me when I told her that I liked her.  Of course, I had imagined kissing Ginny many times.  But this was better than imagining.  Lisa was right here.

And I kissed her.  And it felt good and right.

We did a little more than just kiss.  Not everything, but quite a bit.

And then we talked some more.  Until we feel asleep in each other's arms.

And that is where my Dad found us when he opened the door to his office that early morning of the first of June.