(OCTOBER 2010)

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RICH MUTATIO

AFTER RECEIVING NEWS that a girl was joining our class, the rest of the week went by quickly.

   We haven't gotten a new girl in the class since fourth grade so the girls were squealing. The boys were exhilarated but I think their reasons were more hormone-based than intimate.

   After a couple more games of dodgeball, Mr Cranston divided us into permanent teams that were too balanced for my liking. The only reason why we enjoyed the first game of Indian Sticks was because both teams had randomized strengths and weaknesses. A game consisting of two teams with balanced stats will have the same outcome, while randomness made us approach each game at a new angle.

   Sometime during the week, Mr Darley and Mr Cranston informed us about a three-day overnight trip in December for the three oldest grades. Mr Cranston went on to explain how Mr Darley and the seventh-grade teacher, Mrs Delilah, agreed to pit their classes against each other in three activities they dubbed the Military Games.

   Everyone in the class was looking at each other smiling and nodding as if we were saying, "Let's go!"

   Mr Cranston crossed his arms and leaned on the board. "The competition is to take place on the last day of the retreat. The first game would be a game of pole toppling on the open field. The second game would be a game of hardpoint at the remodelled town in the reserve. And the last game was going to be a capture the flag match."

   Our class had two months to come up with a game plan. If Mr Darley told us what the games were then Mrs Delilah would have told the seventh graders too.

   Anyone with a working brain knew that the odds were stacked against us, but, for some reason, knowing that gave us more of a thrill.

   I read Sun Tzu's The Art of War two years ago and it looks like it's time for a reread.

   The academic activities we did this week were a blur. The only highlight I could think of was the pop quiz on geography Mr Darley made us do after most of us failed to hand in our homework from the night before.

  He also assigned another art assignment over the weekend which was to simply make a watercolour painting of our choice. That was it; beginner work.

   After school on Thursday, the class went to the park and played what we dubbed a 'Pinecone War'. There was no objective of the game; no one could be eliminated and there were no items to claim. The premise was two teams throwing pinecones at each other. It was that simple, that stupid, and that fun.

   The next day, Mr Darley noticed bumps on Annie and Charlie and began to worry, but after he realized a number of us had the same injuries, he probably shrugged it off and assumed we were doing something stupid after school. Which, to be fair, we were.

   We pulled a daring heist in the local dollar store on Friday. Eighteen of us walked into the store, blocking off each aisle and distracting the customers, employees, and managers.

   We had one goal—to look suspicious.

   While the workers were chaotically trying to keep an eye on us all, Bond walked into the store and, even though he was carrying his stupidly large saxophone case from music class, no one cared about him. They only cared about us and what we might steal.

   Seymour, Cook, Hunter, Sam, and I, who were in the snack aisle, promptly left and joined Conan, Charlie, Grant, and Brianna who were in the hardware section. The workers followed us, leaving no one to keep an eye on the snacks.

   We waited until we got a signal from Howard which meant that Bond had made his escape. We attempted to leave but the workers blocked off the exit and, in the end, rounded up fifteen of us.

   Justice and Moses bought mechanical pencils to escape. Penny didn't look affiliated so she simply left.

   The manager brought us to the back of the store and demanded that he search our bags. We denied his request, which ticked him off.

   Tears began streaming down Charlie's face.

   "We can do it two ways," the manager said. "My way is to simply search your bags. The hard way involves the police. You guys choose."

   Charlie stepped up. "We didn't steal anything. Once you realize we are wrong, we're telling our parents about this."

   Charlie's parents were lawyers and must've been detailed to him about rights.

   That seemed to scare the manager a bit. He left the room for a couple of minutes and came back to tell us we were allowed to leave.

   We regrouped with Bond, Mallory, Justice, Penny, and Moses at the playground near the plaza.

   "Late again," Bond said. He opened his saxophone case and started passing around the snacks he managed to steal.

   "What do you mean? This was part of the plan."

   "Still late," Mallory said. She held Bond's saxophone and blew into it with only the sound of wet air coming out.

   We spent the next thirty minutes going over interesting bits from different perspectives. Apparently, one of the workers told Brianna that he knew what we were doing but let it slide.

   Howard opened his bag, took out a bucket of cotton candy, and started eating it.

   I grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "Why. Would. You. Take that?"

   "Bond couldn't fit this in his case and I wanted it."

   "If they looked through our bags, we would've been screwed."

   Howard patted Charlie on the back. "Good thing we had Saul Goodman with us."

   "That's not the point!"

   "Oh yeah, Charlie also cried when they interrogated us," said Stacy.

   Charlie straightened his back. "Ha! I see my acting was super convincing..."

   "Dude, that was a hundred percent not acting," Conan beckoned. "Those were real tears of fear."

   "My acting was so good you guys thought it was real? Thanks..."

   "Shut up, you weren't acting!"

   Mr Darley assigned a ton of homework so everyone left early. They probably wanted to get it over with before the weekend.

   The only ones that stayed behind were me, Bond, Mallory, Conan, Charlie, Seymour, and Grant. We divided the remaining snacks amongst ourselves so that Bond could put his saxophone back inside its case.

   Seymour and Grant's places were near the plaza so we split up as we made our way home.

   "Do you guys wanna put the extra snacks in the hideout?" Charlie asked.

   Bond shook his head. "Nah, it might attract critters."

   "That's true. Nevermind."

   Mallory kicked a pinecone as we walked. "So, this is the last day our group stays a five, huh?"

   "Yeah, I guess." I opened a pack of Skittles and shook them into my mouth. "Do you know what day next week she's coming?"

   "No. Mr Darley never said."

   "So there's a chance this won't be our last day as a group of five?" I asked rhetorically.

   "There's a chance but I won't bet on it. There's a high likelihood she'll be there by Monday. We didn't get a name either."

   Charlie swallowed whatever he was chewing "Actually, I saw a new name on next week's list after I dropped off today's attendance."

   We stopped and looked at him. Our eyebrows curled and our mouths opened up, too speechless to say anything.

   "You didn't tell us this," Conan said.

   "You didn't ask."

   "Hardy-har. I didn't think we'd have to."

   "So what's her name?" I asked.

   "Her last name is Rivera and I think her first name starts with a Z," Charlie brought up.

   "So you saw a Z. Rivera?"

   "I think so."

   "You have to be 100% sure. It's either you did or you didn't."

   "I don't know. The Z could've been an S from the angle I saw it from."

   I wrapped my arm around his throat, applying pressure on my elbow. "Did you or did you not?"

   "It did." He was tapping on my leg. "It did. It said Z."

   I let him go. "Z. Rivera, huh? That's interesting."

   Charlie massaged his throat. "Chokehold's illegal."

   "Then call the cops."

   We past the school, and, since Charlie and Conan lived in a different part of the neighbourhood, they split from us.

   "Rivera. What last name is that?" I wondered.

    Bond readjusted his instrument case. "What do you mean?"

   "Like what country does the name Rivera come from?"

   "I think Rivera is a Spanish name."

   "So she's gonna be Spanish?"

   "Not exactly. Rivera is also a popular last name in countries colonized by Spain. So think Mexico, Columbia, The Philippines, Argentina. You also have to consider lineage," Bond added. "Her family could've been from Spain, but  she could be mostly Italian by now."

   "But she's probably gonna be from Spain?" I asked.

   "Hypothetically. Don't you want her to be from The Philippines?"

   "That'd be cool, but I prefer not. I'm Filipino, you're Italian, Mallory's Irish, Charlie is German, and Conan is Austrian. I want to keep our group diverse."

   "I never even thought of our group like that."

   We made it to the playground where a flock of geese had taken over.

   "Goodbye, I guess," Mallory said.

   "No, not yet. Let's stay at the playground for a bit."

   "But there are geese."

   "Exactly."

   "Please don't tell me you're thinking of chasing the geese." Bond begged.

   "No. I'm thinking of catching one. It'll be quick and fun."

   I dropped my bag and sprinted towards the flock, the birds dispersing. I waved at my friends from behind a sea of feathers.

  Bond put his saxophone case on the ground and removed his bag. "Damn it, Rich." He walked towards the geese, opening and closing his umbrella.

   "Mallory, go to the other side and herd them towards me."

   "They could just fly, Moron!"

   "Nike's slogan," I said solemnly.

   "What?"

   "Just do it."

   She clicked her tongue. "That's not funny!"

   Mallory sighed and made her way perpendicular to me and Bond. She picked up a branch and waved it towards the flock.

   They moved at a slow pace to not startle the birds into flying away. When the geese got close, I dived into the flock and caught a juvenile-looking goose while the others took off.

   I lifted it into the air. "Yes! What should we name it?"

   Bond closed his umbrella. "We can't keep that as a pet."

   "We're not. We'll just name it. This thing has a smiley face pattern on its right wing so it'll be easy to tell."

   "Daffy," Mallory suggested.

   "Are you dumb? Daffy's a duck."

   "You're dumb. You're the one provoking Canadian Geese! People are more scared of these guys than ostriches."

   Daffy turned his neck and locked a bite onto my nose. "Ah! Stop it, Daffy! Get it off. Get it off."

   I ripped Daffy's bite off and tossed him into the air where he flew towards the direction of his flock.

   "Bad idea?" Bond asked.

   I massaged my nose. "Nope. Next time, I'll make sure to hold its neck."

   "Um. Guys." Mallory warned. She pointed at the flock of honking geese headed towards our direction.

   "Oh, crap."

  Mallory's eyes were wide open whilst Bond continued carrying that carefree look.  I darted towards my bag.

   Were they just gonna stand there?

   Bond grabbed Mallory by the hand and pulled her close. He opened his umbrella and used it as a shield.

   The birds flew around them and headed straight for me.

   Bond closed his umbrella, resting it on his shoulders. "Sorry, Rich. You're on your own."

   I pulled my hood on and grabbed my bag. I didn't even bother swinging it over my shoulders and simply held it in my hand.

   "I'll see you here Monday, then!" I was running out of breath.

   Mallory ran to the sidewalk, cupping her hands around her mouth. "Don't be late!"