Chapter 2

EMILY

Once we were in the Principal's office and seated, he got right to the point. "John, Emily, some important things are happening. This morning's events are causing a bit of a firestorm. The Committee, or rather, someone on the Committee has dropped us in it."

"What you did for Bridget this morning was very brave. It also may have saved the school a lot of trouble. I thank you for that, from the bottom of my heart."

"But now, I need you to do something even braver." Uh, oh. "In a few minutes, each of you will be called in to this office to speak with a couple of people and answer some questions about this morning. I will be here with you, and you will be completely safe. But I need you to be here. Really here. I know it will be uncomfortable, but we will need them to see and interact with you. Not the Mysterians, and not the zombies. You. I cannot begin to tell you how important this is."

"After the interviews, you can use the small conference room to recover if you wish. The other participants will return to the large conference room, so you will have it to yourselves."

"Do you have any questions?"

"What is this all about?" I asked.

"Let me answer that in the other room. But in general, it is about Bridget right now. And about this week's Program selections in general. Anything else?"

"How long will it take?" John wondered. "I really don't want to miss lunch."

"I don't know. Which period do you have lunch?"

"Fifth," he replied. I echoed with "I have it fifth, too."

"I hope it won't take that long. But some of the others have fourth period lunch, so I will make some sort of arrangements. Good thinking." He glanced at his watch. "But now, we'd best get back with the others."

With that, he stood and ushered us back to the conference room.

As we found our seats, he started addressing the group. "Alright, ladies and gentlemen," he began, "You, too, Mr. Mason. We have a situation on our hands. And through no fault of your own, you have been dropped in the middle of it." He let that sink in for a moment, as we settled in.

"I'm sure you have noticed that one of your number is not here. Miss Donnache should never have been on the list. Her petition for exemption was clearly in order, but somehow it was suddenly denied and she was placed on the list with the rest of you. Frankly, there are too many coincidences here. It appears very likely that someone is playing some sort of game with the Program. Someone who is not afraid to risk an international incident."

"Yeah," Perry began, "someone who's..."

"Stop! Before you say anything more, consider this. Everything seems to point to one person. She has a motive of sorts, and has the practical ability to do everything we have seen. But as one of you demonstrated this morning, things are not always as they seem. It is also possible that some person or people did this for the purpose of discrediting her. Until we get to the bottom of this, I urge you all to refrain from public speculation as to who did this and why. Such speculation could be called defamatory, and you could find yourself on the wrong end of a very nasty lawsuit. None of us want that."

"Everything will be investigated, and the culprit or culprits WILL be held accountable."

He paused, looking around at us.

"In fact, the investigation has already started. As an indication of how serious the situation is, representatives of the Federal Office Of Social Awareness, the State Department, and a representative of Miss Donnache's government are on their way here to interview each of you about these events. They will also be interviewing certain members of the faculty and staff. After they arrive, you will be called into my office, one at a time, to be interviewed. I will be there, but you will be given the choice to have me leave during some or all of that interview. I promise you two things. One, that if you do ask me to leave, I will not take any action against you because of that. And two, I will not use anything you say in those interviews for disciplinary purposes. I will repeat that offer and those promises in front of the interviewers for each of you, and you will be given that choice."

"Truth be known, I will be there as an advocate for you. These people will be operating from their own agendas. Very high level agendas. I am sure they are not bad people, but the way they see it is that you are nowhere near as important as their priorities. Any or all of them would flatten you in the name of those priorities, and do so without a second thought."

All of us, even John and I, shifted uncomfortably at that.

"When you go in for those interviews, I urge you to be open and forthcoming. It is important that they get the information they need, as quickly and as clearly as possible. I also urge you to take this seriously, and be respectful. These are very important people facing a potentially serious situation, and I don't think they would find teenage antics," he looked pointedly at Perry, "or attitude to their liking. To be blunt, the FOSA representative could have you spending the rest of your academic careers in this state of undress. And that would follow you to any school in the country."

Perry blanched. The other two girls seemed to be having trouble breathing for a moment. I had a lot of trouble keeping myself from sinking deeply into my safe place.

"When you return from your interviews, I urge you not to discuss what you told them until all of you have been in there. If you must, you can discuss their appearance and demeanor, and your emotional reactions."

"Now on to more pleasant matters," he forced some lightness into his tone. "I have been reminded that some of all of you may be missing lunch while you're here. Knowing how much teens hate to miss out on free food, I will arrange for your lunches to be brought in." He handed a pad and a pen to Perry. "Just put your name and what you want from the main cafeteria. You can eat in here, while you are waiting, and after your interview. If you need a restroom, you can use the staff one just down the hall. If you need anything else, just ask any of the staff."

"After your interviews, you will return to this room. They may want to see one or more of you a second time, for some clarification. When we are done, I will dismiss you to class."

Whuf!

JOHN

That was NOT fun!

The VIPs arrived just as we finished writing our lunch orders. Principal Murrow gave the lunch orders to someone at the front desk, then went into his office. About five minutes later, some of our lunch arrived. We were told that the rest would be a few minutes. Apparently, some of our comrades in nudity had ordered things which needed preparation. I just stuck with my usual: a cheeseburger, fries, an apple, and a large glass of milk. After another five minutes or so, Principal Murrow came back in the room and asked me to step into his office. I swished a little milk around in my mouth, then followed. It was all I could do to keep from diving back down into my safe place as I crossed the office like that.

When his door closed behind me, I did dive down in for a moment. There, arrayed behind his desk, were two men and a woman. All in suits, all immaculately groomed, all with perfect posture. And I was trapped here, wearing nothing but my shoes and socks and a whistle. I couldn't even hide behind my book bag - big no no, especially in front of the high Program honcho. What is a honcho, anyway? And what the heck am I supposed to do now?

There is no real danger yet. It is important that I go back out to the here and now. I took a deep breath, and slowly let it out. As I did, I shifted myself out of the safe place and back into the room. I spread my towel, and sat.

They introduced themselves. The woman was from the State Department. I would have guessed she was the Program person. The other two were from FOSA and the Irish Consulate. They tried to put me at ease.

"Thank you for coming, John." The woman began. I could feel my mouth twitch at the implication that I had any choice in the matter. "This is not a trial, or an inquisition, or anything like that. We are just here to try and find out exactly what happened here this morning. I understand that this is stressful for you," understatement of the century! "but it is very important. If there is anything we can do to make it easier, let us know. In particular, if you start feeling the stress too much, let us know and we will stop and let you collect yourself. While time is important, good quality information is far more important. Do you understand?"

"Yes. I understand." I turned to the FOSA man. "I don't suppose that..." I indicated my body.

"I'm sorry, but we cannot do that. As unusual as it is, this is still a school function and the rules are very explicit."

"It was worth a try." I gave a theatrical sigh. It was a weak attempt at humor, but it helped a bit.

Principal Murrow spoke up. "Before we get started, there are a few things I need to say for the record. I am here as a fact finder, but I am also here as your advocate. That being said, you have the option of asking me to leave at any time. If you exercise that option, I will not hold it against you in any way. Anything you say here is to be used for the purposes at hand only. I will not use anything you say against you in any way. Do you want me to leave?"

I shook my head. He was the only familiar, and more or less friendly, face here.

The FOSA man took that as his cue. "Why don't you tell us what happened this morning, starting when you were paged to the office."

I told them about being paged, and about walking to the office. I told them about slipping into my safe place on the way.

The Irish representative broke in to ask: "Is that what we saw you doing when you first came in here?"

"Yes, but that was a relatively shallow and brief trip. It is something I learned from some old self-help book. The doctors call it volitional dissociation or a form of self hypnosis. I just call it going into my safe place. When I am there, I feel like nothing going on around me can touch the real me. I can't really explain it better than that."

"Are you aware of what is happening around you?"

"Only to the extent I choose to be. When I had been doing it for a while, some teachers thought I was effectively sleeping in class. They would suddenly stop what they were doing and ask me what they had just said. I would repeat it word for word, inflections and all. Pretty soon, they backed off."

I went on to describe the meeting in the conference room (except for what I had seen through the window). Then I described the trip to Ms. Ackerman's office, and sinking even deeper into my safe place. I included Bridget's soft crying and the two PE teachers. I recounted the conversation between Bridget and Ms. Ackerman and, before I could think about it, told them about the notes. I told them about the disrobing, about the way the coaches and vice principal were firm, but not rough, when undressing the struggling girl. About being knocked from the chair in the process.

The Irish rep. was not pleased at the description of the forced stripping of his countrywoman. But the only question he asked was whether that was how I got the large bruise on my side. I answered that it was, but I did not hold it against Bridget.

It was hard, very hard, not to dive back into my safe place. They were so intensely focused on me. I was the center of everything there, all these adults in suits. And I was stark raving naked. I asked them to wait a moment, and they agreed. I closed my eyes and concentrated on taking deep, slow breaths. As I blew each breath out, I blew out some of the tension with it (another trick form the self help books).

When I was able to continue, I described being unable to get myself to move, and being passive while they undressed me. The Irish man asked about the differences between the way they stripped me and what they had done with Bridget. I told them there were two main differences. I was passive, so they only had to hold me up while they undressed me. Bridget was actively struggling, so they worked to contain her struggles. I speculated that it was to keep her from hurting herself. The other difference was that the man held Bridget while the women undressed her, but the female PE teacher held me while the man stripped me. He asked about their attitudes. I described them as determined, but concerned. There were no signs of anger or the like. No signs of any abuse of either of us.

He nodded his understanding, and gestured for me to continue.

I told them about her reactions when we went back out into the office. And about becoming the Magician and arranging things with Emily. They looked puzzled at that.

The FOSA man asked about becoming the Magician. I told them about it being a stage persona, then used my standard analogy:

I asked the FOSA man "Would you be comfortable walking around outside in those clothes?" pointing to the woman.

He paused just a little too long. "Ah, no. I don't think so." A part of my mind took that as an indication that he would. TMI. WTMI! I went on: "Have you ever been in a play?"

His eyes lit up, then returned to normal. "I've done a few community theater things."

"If your troupe was doing say, an updated version of Charlie's Aunt, could you play the part of the boy pretending to be the aunt? Even in those clothes?"

"I suppose so..."

"When I am on stage, it is like playing such a part. Now, you have been rehearsing the show. It is almost opening night. You are asked to pose for some publicity photos in your two primary costumes. They are set outdoors, in public. Would you be reasonably comfortable posing?"

"Yes, I imagine I would."

"So what is the difference between the first instance of walking around in public in that dress and the second."

"I'm... I'm playing a part in the second case. It is not me, it is the character and the character's character."

"That's the way it was when I shifted into the Magician in the outer office."

The Irish man then asked: "Let me see if I have this straight. You barely knew the girl. She even kicked you in the ribs while struggling. But you went to all this trouble to help her. Why?"

"Because she needed it, and because we could help her."

He seemed satisfied for the moment, and gestured for me to continue. I described the warning to Bridget, the entrance, and the trick. They asked me to demonstrate the trick. I did so, targeting the woman from State. They were startled, but appreciative. The FOSA man was a little ambivalent about it.

There were a lot of questions about details, and about rumors after the fact. I answered as best I could. Finally, it was over. I was feeling pretty ragged by then. They thanked me for my cooperation, and the Irish man particularly thanked me for helping Bridget. Then we left. Mr. Murrow escorted me to the small conference room, where I found the rest of my lunch. The cheeseburger and fries were cold. The milk was warm. I didn't care. After a moment of eating, one of the secretaries knocked at the door. When I opened it, she gave me Emily's tray. I took it to the table and went back to work on my own food. At least the apple was still nice. I also started working on this journal entry.

EMILY

After John was taken (to his doom, I couldn't help thinking), I sat there picking at my chef's salad. I was deep in my safe place, and I was going to stay there until I had to go face the suits. I tuned out the conversations in the room, so that when one or another of them turned to me I had no clue what they wanted. They quickly learned to ignore me. I ate slowly, and reviewed the events of the morning. Soon, I was as ready as I would ever be. But they didn't come for me.

About half an hour after John left, Principal Murrow Came for me. He asked whether I wanted the remains of my lunch taken to the other conference room. I answered yes, and he gestured to one of the secretaries. As we walked to his door, he reminded me that I needed to be in the here and now. I almost refused. It was so nice in my safe place, and so dangerous and upsetting out there in the here and now. After we entered the room, I came out of my safe place and faced the four of them.