Beyond the Chocolate War

He placed the razor blade on the side of the tub and then slipped into the water from the end opposite the faucets, letting the warmth flow over him. He was grateful for once that he was a blank. Without thought or emotion. As if he were transparent, without weight. He realized he hadn't sat in a tub for years, showering instead each morning on arising. He sighed, felt the warmth of the water seeping into his pores, the steam forming rivulets on his forehead, cheeks, and chin. Beautiful here. Soon this terrible, ugly, desperate, despicable world would come to an end along with his utterly useless place in it. Kill yourself and you also kill the world, someone had said He would always spare his family, but how he would love to obliterate Trinity and all it stood for. Brother Leon and the Letter. Look thy last. .

He reached for the blade.

But could not touch it.

Stared at it, a small steel rectangle catching the ceiling light.

His finger touched the blade but remained there, as if pinning the blade to the tub.

He knew he couldn't do it, could not perform this act. Not now. Not today. Today was not the day, after all.

A small glimmer lit up a corner of the dark thing his mind had become. Brother Leon's face glowed in that glimmer. Why should he go alone, leaving Leon behind, sparing him?

He drew his hand back from the razor.

Weary, exhausted, knowing he must endure this bleak existence for a while more.

And remained in the tub, weeping, until the water grew cold.

During Vigil meetings or holding court on the school steps or simply walking around the campus, Archie was always in command, in control. The only place he was not in control — although he admitted this to no one — was in Leon's office. Leon never summoned Archie to a meeting without a solid reason for doing so, and Archie always went to the meetings with his guard up, a bit on edge. Not exactly nervous: Leon didn't have the power to make him nervous.

Archie admitted to a degree of uncertainty now, as he stepped into Leon's study, but he didn't allow it to show. In fact he sat down without invitation, slouched in the chair, assuming a don't-give-a-hell attitude.

Leon regarded him critically but said nothing. They stared at each other, the old game that always had to be played. This time Leon looked away first. He pulled open the center drawer of the desk and withdrew a white envelope. His slender, dainty fingers took a sheet of folded paper out of the envelope. He unfolded the paper, shot a glance at Archie.

'Do you know about this?'

'About what?' Archie asked, alert.

Leon handed the sheet of paper to Archie. Slowly Archie reached out and took it, the motion deliberate and unhurried. He stifled his curiosity, holding the paper in the palm of his hand for a moment. Then he read the words.

Brother Leon:

It is imperative to cancel the Bishop's forthcoming visit to Trinity. Bad things will happen if he comes. This is friendly advice, not a warning.

The letters were printed in blue ballpoint ink. Awkward letters, slanting both left and right as if the writer of the note were drunk or didn't have full control of his hands. Or wanted to disguise his handwriting. As Archie's eyes took in the message, slowly reading again each word, another word leaped to the forefront of his mind.

Traitor.

For the first time in his years at Trinity, a traitor had appeared. Oh, there had been the expected enemies, the stubborn kids (like Renault), the animals (like Janza). The reluctant guys, the timid ones, the protestors. But never a whistle-blower, a turncoat, a traitor. Never someone tipping off the Headmaster. The ultimate act of betrayal. Because even the students who feared and hated the Vigils realized that the Vigils were on their side. The common enemy was Trinity itself, the faculty, the Headmaster, whether Brother Leon or anyone else. By their very natures the faculty and the student body were enemies. And one did not consort with the enemy. This was the worst thing that someone could do, the most despicable act of all. Thinking of all this and also: Who could it be? Not just anybody. Not just any student. Most students had been delighted by the prospect of a day off. Most students didn't care whether the Bishop or the school would be embarrassed. Most students probably wanted something to happen, to end this boring school term. So who?

He looked up to see Leon glaring at him. More than a glare. A baleful look full of contempt.

'This I cannot condone, Archie. Your foolish pranks here at school have been one thing, along with your stupid adolescent behavior. If your fellow students are ignorant enough to indulge you, fine. As long as it concerns only them and not me.' Leaning forward, he snatched the letter from Archie's hand. 'But involving the Bishop in one of your pranks. .' He let his voice die, but the snap and crackle of his words continued to echo in the room. 'This is unforgivable and could threaten the school.'

Archie was always at his best when he was under attack. That's when his blood seemed to sing as it coursed through his veins, when every fiber of his body was alert and standing ready, when his brain was clear and swift, not bogged down as sometimes happened during a test, particularly math. And so he felt himself responding to Leon's attack by cooling down, becoming calm, relaxed, forming his thoughts as if they were battalions of soldiers marshaling for a defensive maneuver. Go easy, slow and easy and cool. And play the ace up your sleeve when the time comes.

'I don't blame you for being upset, Brother Leon,' Archie said, voice reasonable but dignified. Mustn't give any hint of apology, because that would indicate guilt. 'I've always been careful to limit. .' Groping for the word, impossible to use assignment.'. . our activities to the school, the campus.' Pausing, watching Leon intently — but not too intently, must remain cool and yet permit a bit of his own anger and outrage to emerge little by little. 'This is the kind of thing I've warned the guys about. But there's a lot of jealousy among the students. This jealousy. .'

Jealousy was the key word, of course. That's why he had repeated it. Jealousy was the hook Leon had to grab. And he grabbed. 'Jealousy?' Puzzled, caught off guard for a split second.

'Yes. I've heard rumors that some of the students want to disrupt the school.' He knew the words sounded phony — hadn't he, more than any other person, disrupted the school through the years? — but he had to convince Leon that the words weren't phony. 'The Vigils, Brother Leon, have always worked with the school, never against, never destructive. Oh,' we probably went overboard now and then, but all in the interest of school spirit.'

Archie could tell his words were having an effect.

And knew why.

Because Leon wanted to believe him.

That was the card up Archie's sleeve.

The fact that he and Leon had to be allies. And if Leon couldn't trust Archie any longer to keep the students in check, then all hell could break loose.

And so Leon listened intently, nodding his head as Archie talked, selecting careful words, each designed to show Brother Leon that he was innocent of any scheme to embarrass the Bishop or the school or Brother Leon himself. He explained that one of his problems had always been jealous students who attempted to discredit what he tried to do. And what he had tried to do, of course, was keep peace on the campus. The Vigils had served a purpose, didn't Brother Leon agree? Monument High, for instance, had been ravaged by student misbehavior, bomb scares, vandalism. None of those things had occurred at Trinity. Because of the Vigils.

Leon listened, expressionless now, eyes impossible to read, the eyes of a fishlike creature in a tank. He cleared his throat and indicated the letter with an accusing index finger. 'What about this? I have some questions. First, what do you think the plotters planned to do during the Bishop's visit? Secondly, do you know who the plotters are? Do you have any clues to go on?'

The important thing was to assure Leon that he was on top of everything. 'I know who they are, Brother Leon. Believe me, I will take care of them.'

Leon seemed to be measuring Archie's words. 'With discretion? I want no civil wars on this campus, no revenge or retaliation.'

'Don't worry. This is a minor matter.'