Secret of the Sevens (3 page)

Three

I don't get home from detention until after six. Most of my housebrothers have finished eating and are doing their chores in the kitchen. Only Marcus and Mr. and Mrs. Shanahan are left at the dining room table, finishing their lasagna.

“Well hello, Talan,” Marcus snickers. “Where you been all day?”

I look at my houseparents and say nothing. Mom Shanahan hates when her boys get in trouble. Both she and Dad Shanahan keep eating without acknowledging me.

Marcus grins and pulls out my chair. “Have a seat and tell us about your day, dear.”

I glance at the table. Mom Shanahan knows her lasagna is my favorite food. I move closer to the Shanahans. “I'm … I'm sure you've already heard.” I pull a blue slip from my pocket and unfold it. “I spent the day in detention.” I read from the slip: “ ‘For a profane outburst during an assembly.' ”

I walk around the chair and try to hand the slip to Mom, but she doesn't take it. I fidget with the paper. Now what do I do?

“Marcus, could you please finish your dinner in the kitchen?” Dad Shanahan growls. “And close the door behind you.”

Marcus carries his plate into the next room. The door clicks shut but the Shanahans still don't say anything. I can't remember it ever being this quiet in here. My eyes dart around the room. Mom slowly sips her tea as Dad takes another bite of garlic bread.

The skin on the back of my neck grows clammy. I rock back and forth, shifting my weight from foot to foot, waiting for the Shanahans to make the next move. It's like being locked in solitary confinement with your executioners.

I clear my throat and mumble, “Headmaster Boyle couldn't suspend me since classes haven't technically started, but I lost privileges until school begins next Monday.”

Nothing. Not even a nod.

My heart speeds up. “I'm sorry,” I blurt out. “But it sucked the way they screwed your daughter. Laney deserved to be a Pillar more than anyone.” I slide the detention slip onto the table next to Mom Shanahan's plate. “I'll make myself a sandwich and take it to my room.”

I try to circle past her, but she pulls out Laney's empty chair to block my path. When she stands up, I cower at what's coming. Mom Shanahan can give a real earful. But she doesn't. She puts her hand on my shoulder, presses me into Laney's seat, and cuts me a massive piece of lasagna.

“What Principal Boyle doesn't know won't hurt him,” she whispers.

I blink a few times. When I finally look over at Dad, he breaks out into this huge grin and winks at me. My shoulders relax and I let out a breath.

It's then I realize I'm eating off of Delaney's clean plate. “So where is Laney? Didn't she eat?”

Mom nods toward the doorway. “She hasn't left her room since she got home this afternoon. Maybe you could talk to her when you're done with chores.”

I practically choke on my mouthful. “Man, she must be pretty bad off if you're sending me to her room. You're such a Nazi about boys in there. You're going to disengage all the booby-traps, aren't you?”

Dad Shanahan smiles. “We can turn off the electric fence for one night.”

After dinner and chores, I wash up and knock on Laney's door.

No answer.

I knock again.

A shaky voice says, “I told you, I'm not hungry.”

“It's Talan. Open up.”

The door creaks open and two bloodshot eyes appear. “I don't feel like seeing anybody right now.”

I put my hand on the doorframe and lean in. “Your mom and dad sent me to check on you.”

Shock waves appear above her eyebrows. “Without a chaperone?” She peeks into the hall and looks around. “No guard dog? Not even pepper spray? They must really be worried about me. Tell them to call off the suicide watch. I'm fine.”

“I know. But let me in anyway.” I squeeze past her and wander around. “I want to see what your room looks like with the lights on.”

I lift an empty pint of cookie-dough ice cream off her desk. “I thought you weren't hungry.”

She forces a half-smile. “That was medicinal.”

“Well anyhow, I'm sorry about the Pillars.” I sit on her bed. “That whole thing was bullshit.”

“So I heard.” Her half-smile blooms to a full one. “The whole school heard, actually.” She slides next to me on the mattress. “What was that about anyway? Were you defending me or something?”

“No! I … I just hate Cameron Moore.” I rub my neck. “That whole Pillar thing is stupid to begin with. Why does someone deserve all those perks just because they get better grades and suck-up to the teachers? Why should a kid like me be penalized because I have a learning disability?”

“How can you say that, Talan? It's not just about grades. You know how hard I work organizing activities and volunteering all the time.”

“So? Anyone can volunteer.”

Her face pinches. “Oh? Then why don't you? At least my time is spent helping other kids. You get more attention for running around in a red football jersey a few hours every weekend. The jocks get plenty of perks here, and you know it.”

“Geez, okay already.” I sigh. “I'm sorry I said anything. I'm just crabby I had to waste one of the last days of summer stuck inside with Headmaster Boyle.”

“Yeah, well, you're lucky he didn't suspend you.”

“He almost did. Mr. Kane wanted him to, but all Boyle could do was take privileges and give me detention. Oh, and Professor Solomon convinced him to put me in his Ethics and Virtues class, too.”

“Oh Shitsu,” she says, gnawing the corner of her bottom lip.

“What?”

“Well, I have some good news and some bad news.” Laney scratches her forehead. “Which do you want first?”

The expression on her face guarantees my day is about to get worse. “The good, I guess.”

“Kollin and I are signed up for that class, so we'll have it together.”

“Having a class with Kollin is the good news? I can hardly wait to hear the bad news.”

“All the Pillars will be in there too. It's part of the requirements when you apply.”

“Damn!” I pound my fist into her pillow. “I should have known Headmaster Boyle would burn me. His eyes practically lit up when Solomon suggested it. I swear the guy hates my guts. He always has.”

“Well,
I'm
glad you'll be there. I can use an ally. It's gonna suck listening to Cameron Moore and the Pillars bragging about all the cool stuff they're getting.”

I squeeze a stuffed dolphin sitting on her bed, gripping it like a football. “What the heck happened today, anyhow?” I pull my arm back, aiming for an imaginary receiver. “These Pillars aren't anything like the ones they usually choose.”

Before I can nail the door with Flipper, Laney snatches the thing from my hand and sets it carefully on her shelf. “That's because Mr. Rathbone was always the Chairman of the Board. My dad said he always relied on the teachers' suggestions when he selected the Pillars. But Stephen Kane took over when Rathbone died, and he insisted on choosing the Pillars himself.”

I scoot back, snuggling into the mound of pillows lined neatly against her headboard. “It doesn't make sense. We get a lecture from this Kane guy on how excellent Pillars are, and then he chooses the biggest group of losers at our school. Who is this Kane idiot, anyhow?”

Laney stands up and wanders slowly toward her desk. “Mom said Stephen Kane was a hero when he went here. He was the boy who discovered the fire that killed William Singer and those students. Kane tried to rescue them, but it was too late. The Board was so impressed that they rewarded him by putting him in charge of reinventing Mr. Singer's secret society. He helped come up with the Pillars as the replacement. That's why he was the first Pillar.”

“Reinvent the secret society? Why would they want to do that?” I shake my head. “After the murder, you'd think they'd want to forget it ever existed.”

Laney slides into her desk chair. “They had to, for legal reasons. Mr. Singer's will left all of his assets, including Singer Enterprises, in a trust to Singer School. That way, the school could go on even after he was gone. The board of directors was to continue running the business, but the will stated that there was a group of students at the school who had the authority to veto any board decisions they felt would hurt the school. The will referred to them as the Society of Seven. The Sevens were set up to protect the school, but five died in the fire and the other two never came forward.”

“Because they'd get arrested for murder.”

“That's the theory. Anyhow, the Board needed to create something right away that filled that description in the will, so they worked with Kane to come up with the Pillars. To avoid any more trouble, they decided there'd be six seniors selected every year, with the Chairman of the Board acting as the seventh member and advisor so that they wouldn't be secret anymore.”

“So why do you think Singer started it as a secret society? There had to be something gross or illegal going on.”

Laney doesn't answer. She's deep in thought, tapping her knuckles on the desktop.

“So how do you know all this, anyway?” I add. “About Singer's will and all that?”

She swivels in her chair, turning her back to me. “I did some research once.”

“For a paper or something?”

Her head lifts toward a photo of her family on her bulletin board. “Something like that.” She's quiet again.

When I hear her sniffling, I swing my legs over the side of her bed. “I know you wanted to be a Pillar, Lane, but it'll be okay. I'm sure you're already guaranteed a scholarship with all your A's and compulsive community service.”

She straightens up quick and wipes her face with her palms. Her desk chair turns a few degrees in my direction.

“C'mon. Who needs Winchester House when you have us?” I lean back on my elbows. “Admit it, you'd totally miss us. Think about all our great times together. No more of Jake's laundry-day headlocks, where he forces you to whiff his reeking socks? Or the way everyone farts and blames it on you? You don't get that kind of attention just anywhere. Remember when Marcus and me stole your underwear from the dryer and wrapped them up for Headmaster Boyle as a birthday present?”

“Is this supposed to be making me feel better?” she whimpers. But when she swivels the rest of the way to face me, there is a smile, if just a little one. “You know, I
would
have missed this place. I probably would have been here all the time anyhow.”

“Then why mope about it? You're already gonna graduate with a pile of awards.”

“I never cared about that. That's not why I wanted it.”

“Then why? So you could spend more time with Kollin?”

“It doesn't matter.” She glances at her bulletin board and pulls her hair back. “I'm fine now. Really.”

Just then, the door swings open and Dad Shanahan's head pops through. His wrinkled brow relaxes when he sees Laney and me on opposite sides of the room. “You feeling better, sweetie?”

Laney nods and Mr. Shanahan says, “Why don't you come out and have some dinner, then? C'mon … make your mom and dad happy and eat something.”

When Laney stands up, I read something in her expression that catches me off guard.

Disgust.

Four

The Pillars are gathered in the front of the classroom when I walk in. Perched on the teacher's desk, Cameron Moore glares as I trudge past him to the back of the room.

I plop down in an open desk next to Emily. “Hey.”

She looks up at me from her magazine and then back down to the quiz she's filling out. “Hey.”

She must be pissed about our cemetery date. Whate
ver. I wasn't looking for a girlfriend anyhow.

Laney and Kollin stroll in a minute later. Laney frowns at the Pillars before glancing around the room. Her eyes skip from me to Emily and back to me again. She gives me a half-smile. I nod and slouch in my seat until a voice jolts me to attention.

“Mr. Moore!” Professor Solomon bellows from the doorway.

Cameron hops down as our teacher shuffles in.

Stooped at the waist, Solomon hobbles turtle-slow toward his desk. Wisps of fine white hair cling to his head like a spiderweb. Brown age spots speckle his face and hands. He leans on his cane, surveying Cameron Moore through wire-rimmed glasses that teeter on the tip of his nose.

This is my first course with Solomon, and that's no accident. Senile Solomon is well-known for failing more kids than anyone at Singer. Your chance of getting an A in his class is the statistical equivalent of Haley's comet flying over Wrigley Field at the exact moment the Cubs clinch the World Series. Not that it matters much to me, but they call him the GPA Killer.

Solomon's sunken eyes narrow on Cameron. The room is quieter than the inside of a casket until the old guy slams his cane on the desktop. “If you ever use my desk as your chair again, I'll use your report card as an invitation to summer school. Are we clear?”

“Of course, sir.” Cameron nods manically. “I apologize.” He rushes for the first open chair.

Solomon's eyes scan the dead-silent room.

“Excuse me.” Zack Hunter's hand creeps up. “Sir?”

Solomon glares at him over the top of his glasses.

“As you're probably aware, sir, this year the Pillars are supposed to meet every Monday in the Board Room in lieu of this class. We have our first meeting this afternoon, in five minutes. We're eager to get going, if that's okay.”

Laney's eyes and mouth drop simultaneously, like they're attached to the same anchor.

“I'm aware,” Solomon sniffs, then turns to the rest of us. “Apparently, Mr. Kane feels the Pillars can learn more from meeting with him than they would in my class.” His mouth tightens. “I've also been advised that the Pillars are to be excused for numerous field trips and quarterly board meetings.”

Zack high-fives Cameron, and Professor Solomon points his cane at them. “Just so there's no misunderstanding, Pillars will be expected to make up everything they miss in class. For instance, you will be expected to read the first two chapters in your textbook tonight and write five pages summarizing the main ideas.” Solomon grumbles something under his breath and waves his hand at the door. “Pillars, you're excused.”

The six students grab their backpacks and stroll out, leaving only five of us. Solomon slams the door and growls, “The rest of you, move to the front desks.”

I follow Emily and park myself in an open seat next to Jose Aguilar, an angry ex-gangbanger. I've always wanted to check out his tattoos, but then he glares at me and I end up inspecting my nails instead.

Solomon rests against the dry-erase board and waits for us to get settled. “This is a class on
character
and
virtue
,” he pronounces. The way he spits it out, you'd think it was a class on terror and intimidation.

Laney pulls out her textbook and flips to the first page.

“You may close that, Ms. Shanahan,” he says. “You won't find today's lecture in your texts. I've decided that if Stephen Kane can veer from the curriculum every Monday, then I can as well.”

Kollin lifts his hand.

“I know what you're going to ask, Mr. LeBeau. And no. The non-Pillar students will have no homework tonight. Consider that a bonus assignment I gave the Pillars—for being such
excellent
students. Now, if we may begin.”

He points his cane at the Pillar banner hanging next to him. “Mr. Aguilar, what are the six attributes of excellence as defined by Singer's new Chairman of the Board?”

Jose reads the list: “Leadership, Pride, Passion, Achievement, Strength, and Glory.”

Under my breath, I mumble, “Bullshit.”

Solomon's head swivels 180 degrees. Just my luck; the guy's entire body is rotting, but his ears are sharper than a satellite dish. He wobbles to his desk and tears a slip of paper off a pad. “Profanity is not allowed in my classroom.” He scribbles something on the form and hands it to me. “Apparently you haven't learned your lesson, Mr. Michaels. Or perhaps you're just eager for a little more of Principal Boyle's attention?”

Crap. Afternoon detention.

The professor returns to the board. “Our new Chairman of the Board has an interesting interpretation of the purpose of this school,” he says. “Fortunately for us, our founder defined personal excellence differently. My dear friend William Singer devoted his life and wealth so that students could mold productive lives according to values that enrich the world. His motto for this school will always be
virtus sola nobilitas
—virtue alone is noble. From the ceiling in Founders Hall to the scroll above our gates, the seven virtues remain our beacon.”

He grabs a blue marker and scribbles six of them on the board:

1. 1.
   Courage
   
2. 2.
   Compassion
   
3. 3.
   Justice
   
4. 4.
   Faith
   
5. 5.
   Sacrifice
   
6. 6.
   Wisdom
   

“Now let's consider Mr. Kane's definition of success.” Solomon limps over to the banner. “
Leadership
is authority over another,” he mutters, “and
pride
is a high opinion of oneself.
Passion
is any strong emotion—love or hate or even sex or anger.”

He pauses to catch his breath. “
Achievement
indicates an accomplishment of personal goals,
strength
is an individual's power in relation to someone else, and
glory
is recognition for personal achievements.”

Solomon points a shaky finger at Kollin. “Mr. LeBeau. Who would you say benefits most from these qualities?”

Kollin squirms ten different ways before guessing. “The person who possesses them?”

“Precisely. These qualities benefit one's self.” Solomon shakes his ghoulish head. “One could argue that Hitler possessed all six of those qualities, and his legacy is anything but excellent.”

Our attention hones in on Solomon's every twitch. Suddenly this is getting interesting. “Now consider our founder's interpretation of personal excellence,” he continues. “Courage, compassion, justice, faith, sacrifice, and wisdom.” He peers down at Laney. “Ms. Shanahan. Can you tell me how the qualities on
this
list differ from the Pillar list?”

She looks from the banner to the board and squeaks out, “They serve others rather than oneself?”

Solomon roars, “Exactly!” and scribbles one last virtue on the list on the board:

1. 7.
   Service
   

Then he pulls out his chair and eases himself into it, his eyes slowly panning each of our faces. There's a fury in his voice that doesn't fit his feeble body. “Virtue requires the sacrifice of self in
service
of others. That's why
it
will always be more excellent than some”—he looks directly at me—“
bullshit
definition of success.”

I'm so stunned, I drop my pencil.

The old guy seems pretty pleased with himself. “The Singer School motto will always be
virtus sola nobilitas
—virtue alone is noble. No matter what our new chairman of the board says.”