The Battle of Jericho (14 page)

“You get your physical yet?” Jericho asked Kofi quietly.

“Yeah, last week. Doctor called me back and said I gotta come in Wednesday for some more tests. No big deal.”

Jericho wasn't sure how to reply. “You need a ride tomorrow?” he asked.

“Yeah, thanks, man.” Kofi got out of the car and headed to his house. Jericho drove home thoughtfully.

In school, Jericho was pleased to find, his grades were soaring. He'd always received good grades in music, but
Mr. Tambori took extra time with him after school to help prepare him for the competition. Jericho wondered why all of his classes couldn't be like music—as easy as drinking a glass of water.

His math teacher, Mr. Boston, smiled at Jericho as he passed back the exam taken before the holiday.

Yes!
Jericho said to himself. “I can't believe this—an A!”

“You ace it, man?” Kofi whispered across the aisle.

“Yeah, what about you?”

“I'm straight. No reason to call the troops out, but I'm straight.”

“I'm gonna kiss Mr. Boston on the lips!” Josh whispered from the next aisle. “I got a B!”

“Don't do that, man,” Jericho whispered back. “I bet even Mrs. Boston don't kiss that ugly dude.”

“You got that right!” Josh kissed his paper instead, and Kofi and Jericho cracked up.

“Gentlemen? Am I boring you?” Mr. Boston's voice interrupted.

Jericho wanted to say, “Actually, you're the most boring thing I've seen today except for that telephone pole outside the window!” but he just sat up in his seat and said, “Sorry,” and cleared his throat as he glanced at Kofi and Josh, who tried not to explode with laughter.

ON THE TUESDAY BEFORE THE MARTIN LUTHER
King holiday, the Warriors of Distinction held a meeting, once again in the shabby recreation room of Eddie's apartment building. Jericho was sure that this time Eddie's father would not be interrupting. Fourteen young men and Dana Wolfe waited nervously for instructions.

Michael Madison walked to the door and made sure it locked when he closed it firmly. Next to him stood Rick Sharp and Eddie Mahoney. Mr. Culligan was nowhere to be seen. Jericho glanced at Kofi and Josh, who looked deadly serious. Dana looked intent.

“We will begin with a recitation of the vows,” Madison said quietly. “It is imperative that you remember and obey every word.” He nodded at Rick Sharp, who repeated the vows and made the pledges stand at attention and chant them once more.

“Thank you, pledges. You may be seated,” Madison told them. “The paper that is being given to you now is a copy of the pledge you just recited. If you agree to everything, please sign your name on the bottom and pass it to the front of the room. These forms will be kept on file, but will not be circulated. As we have said, secrecy is our greatest strength.”

Jericho read the form and hesitated just for a moment, but he signed it and passed it to Kofi, who was sitting in front of him.

Rick cleared his throat and announced, “I want to tell you a little about Pledge Week. It lasts from Monday until Friday of the last week of January. Get your homework done early, because every night you will be involved in pledge activities that are designed to strengthen you, teach you to depend upon each other, and test your honor, loyalty, and courage. The very last night, Friday night, lasts well past midnight, because included in that night is a celebration party—just for us, the former pledges and the current members. Saturday evening is a formal dinner-dance to which you bring a date. At that time you will be officially welcomed into the group.”

Jericho thought about Arielle and how proud she would be of him that night. Then he gasped. The last Thursday of January was the trumpet competition! There's no way he could miss that! What was he going to do? Jericho's mind swirled as he forced himself to pay attention to what Rick was saying.

“The form that is being distributed now is one for your parents to sign,” Rick continued, “indicating their permission for you to be involved in Pledge Week activities.
Please return that to Mr. Culligan's box at school first thing tomorrow morning. This is our school connection—don't screw it up.”

Eddie took over then. “Between now and the last week of this month, anything that a pledge master asks you to do—anything,” he repeated, looking directly at Dana, “you are required to do. That's at school or any place off campus. Understood?”

“Understood,” the pledges repeated.

“Let's see if you really do understand,” Eddie smirked. “Luis, come here!” Luis jumped from his chair and ran to where Eddie stood. “Stand on one foot!” Eddie ordered.

Luis, an accomplished track star, lifted one foot and balanced with ease. A minute turned into two and Luis began to hop to maintain his balance. Three minutes, four. Finally Eddie commanded, “Enough! Good job, Morales.” Luis went back to his seat, a frown on his face.

“Who wants to be next?” Eddie barked, staring right at Dana.

“I'm game,” Kofi said with a loud cough. Jericho wondered if he had volunteered because of the way he had seen Eddie looking at Dana.

Eddie picked up two folding chairs, one in each hand. “Hold these two chairs, arms straight, elbows unbent. He placed one chair in Kofi's right hand, and another in his left. Kofi looked at Eddie strangely, but he obeyed. The room was silent as everyone watched. At first it was easy, then his arms began to tremble a little.

“Kofi's skinny as a pencil and probably just as strong,” Josh whispered to Jericho.

After six minutes Kofi's face was red and his breath was coming in harsh bursts. “Enough!” Eddie commanded. He seemed to enjoy wielding such power. Kofi dropped the chairs with a sigh, and rubbed his arms.

“Next?” Eddie offered. He looked again at Dana, who did not move.

Josh said loudly, “Try me!”

Eddie looked at him coolly. “Okay, Mr. Prescott. Sing us a song!” Eddie commanded. Josh grinned and burst into “Ninety-nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall” at the top of his voice. It broke the tension as everyone in the room laughed. Even Eddie managed a slight smile.

“That's all we have time for now, Eddie,” Rick said. “I'm sure they get the idea about obedience.” Eddie looked disappointed, and Dana looked relieved. “Are there any questions before we dismiss?” asked Rick.

“Is the pledging process going to be difficult?” Kofi asked.

“You will never forget it,” Eddie Mahoney replied without smiling. Again he looked directly at Dana as he answered.

“When do we get the Warrior jackets?” Josh asked cheerfully.

“The very last Friday night, assuming you've paid your pledge fee by then,” Eddie replied. “And Josh,” he added, “you better learn how to drive.”

Josh and Jericho looked at each other in amazement. They hadn't spoken of the driving incident since that day. Jericho stared at Eddie, who look self-satisfied and victorious.

A sense of uneasiness crept quietly into Jericho's mind. He raised his hand slowly. Rick nodded to him. “Uh, suppose a pledge had something really, really important to do on the fourth night of the final week of pledging?”

“I'd suppose that pledge wouldn't need to bother to come back on the last night,” Rick replied clearly. “Any pledge who does not complete the entire week is automatically eliminated.”

Jericho's heart fell to his shoes as he thought about the trumpet competition. How could he choose one over the other?

JERICHO SAT IN THE MAIN HALL WAITING
for Arielle, who had to stay after school to make up a biology test. He felt only slightly guilty as he munched on a large bag of potato chips and slurped a soda. After all, the soda was diet.

Eric rolled over to where Jericho was sitting. “Whassup, man?”

“Not much. Want some chips?” Jericho offered.

“Yeah, sounds good. Thanks.”

Jericho handed Eric the bag. Eric took a handful, handed it back to Jericho, and said, “So the Warrior stuff kicks off next week, I hear.”

Jericho felt uncomfortable. “Yeah, that's what they tell us.” Jericho hoped Arielle would hurry up so he could leave.

Eric was quiet for a moment. “You know, I woulda loved to be a part of that.”

Jericho wasn't sure what to say. “It's no big deal, really.”

“Yes, it is. It would put me on the inside of everything instead of the outside.”

“I wish there was something I could do,” Jericho said lamely.

Eric sighed. “I don't mean to lay this on you. It's just been one of those days. You know what? All my life I dreamed of going to the prom. I can't even get a girl to talk to me for more than five minutes. How am I gonna get a date? And if I did, what would I do there—wheelies to the music?”

Jericho wasn't sure how to answer. “You know, Eric,” Jericho said quietly. “Sometimes I feel like I'm outside lookin' in on the rest of the world too.”

“Yeah, but you do your lookin' standing up, while I have to do mine sitting down—all the time.”

“Don't you just want to scream sometimes, Eric?”

Eric smiled. “I'm sorry. I'm just feeling a little down today. And yes, sometimes I want to scream so bad, I think I'll explode!”

“So do it!” Jericho challenged him.

“Explode?” Eric looked at him, astonished.

“No. Scream!”

“Here? Now?”

“Yep. Right here. Right now. Scream your head off.” Jericho was grinning now.

“There's still people in the building,” Eric said hesitantly.

“So?”

“So what if I get in trouble?”

“What are they gonna do? Break your legs?” Jericho looked at Eric to see if he had gone too far. But Eric was laughing hysterically. “Scream, Eric, scream!”

“Ahhhhhhhhheeeeeeee!”
Eric screamed at the top his voice. The empty halls echoed.

“Do it again!” Jericho said with exultation.

“Ahhhhhhhhheeeeeeee!”
This time it was even louder. They looked at each other and cracked up.

A door opened down the hall. “What's going on out there? Is somebody hurt?” It was Mr. Boston and he was headed in their direction. “Was that you two making all that noise?” he asked angrily.

“Yes, sir,” Eric replied between giggles. “I told myself if I have to sit in this chair one more second, I'm just gonna scream. So I did.”

“Do you feel better?” Mr. Boston asked. Jericho noticed that he seemed to rein in his anger a bit. Even teachers tiptoed around disabled kids, he realized.

“Yes, sir, I do,” Eric replied. “Here's my bus. I'll be going now.” With that, he gave Jericho a high five, rolled out of the door, down the ramp, and to his bus. Jericho waved as Eric sat on the electric lift, slowly being raised up. Eric was still smiling when the bus drove away, but Jericho couldn't stop thinking what Eric's life must be like. Mr. Boston, shaking his head, returned to his classroom.

Jericho checked his watch and wished once more that Arielle would hurry up. He was hungry and he had a lot of homework to get done tonight. He looked up and saw Kofi coming down the hall.

“Hey, Jericho. Did you hear all that screaming a little while ago?” asked Kofi.

“That was me and Eric Bell.”

“The kid in the wheelchair?”

“Yeah, he needed to let off some steam, so he did. It was too tight!” Jericho told him.

“That's good. I'd hate to be stuck in a chair like that.” Kofi glanced outside at the handicap ramp. “Why you still here, man?” he asked. “Everybody's gone home but the janitors and Mr. Boston. I think he must sleep here.”

“Waiting for Arielle. Slowest female in the world!” Jericho joked. “What are you doing here?”

“Mrs. Walton asked me to fix something on her computer. I swear, if I drop dead, all the computers in this school will just fizzle up and die too. Half the teachers, 'cause they were born back in the Dark Ages, are scared of the computers, and the rest either don't know what to do with them or don't know how to deal with the details of running the programs.”

Jericho laughed. “You ought to see my little stepbrothers on the computer. They'd probably make
you
feel like a dinosaur! How'd you learn so much about computers, anyway?”

“My grandmother won a complete computer setup—printer, modem, scanner, the whole bit—in a contest at the grocery store a couple of years ago. She told me, 'Kofi, come get this thing outta my house 'fore it tries to get all in my mind and my business!' I tried to tell her it was just a machine, but that's exactly why she didn't like it! She wouldn't even open the box. So I took it home, set it up,
and taught myself. I'm as good on a computer as you are on a trumpet,” Kofi teased.

“Maybe,” Jericho admitted. He frowned in thought a moment. “Let me ask you something, Kofi. I got a trumpet competition comin' up real soon. If I do well, and since my lips got magic, I know I will . . .” He paused and smiled a moment. Then he finished seriously. “It could mean a scholarship to Juilliard.”

“So what's your problem? You scared your lips will fall off from kissin' Arielle before you have a chance to play at the competition?”

“Naw, man, it's just the contest is the last Thursday of the month—the fourth night of pledge week,” Jericho told him glumly.

“Man, that sucks! Can you reschedule the contest?”

“No.”

“What are you gonna do?”

Jericho sighed. “What choice do I have. I gotta pledge, man. I can't quit now.”

Kofi looked at him quietly. “Hey, Jericho, remember when I told you the doctor told me to come back and see him for some tests?

“Yeah, what happened?”

“Well, he ran the tests and he said I had a slight heart murmur or something.”