A Plague Year

freakin’ attack.”

We turned into Mr. Proctor’s classroom. He had his back to us, and he held a TV remote control in his hand. Keeping his eyes on the screen, he repeated several times, “Everybody take a seat.”

Arthur and I sat in two desks up front, right under the TV. The screen showed a jet, moving impossibly fast for its altitude, slamming into one of the twin towers.

Wendy Lyle took the seat next to me, but I barely noticed. (And I completely forgot about her earlier TV appearance.)

As we watched and listened, things just kept getting worse. CNN announced that a plane had crashed into the Pentagon in Washington, D.C. I thought Arthur was going to jump out of his chair at that news. He clenched his fists like he wanted to punch somebody.

The TV announced that all planes flying in United States airspace had to land immediately or they would be shot down, to which Arthur shouted, “Hell, yeah! Payback!”

Then, right before our eyes, the first tower in New York City crumbled to the ground, just disintegrated into dust. Mr. Proctor whispered, “My God. That building is full of people.”

It was amazing, and shocking, and News with a capital N. We all stayed glued to the television. Here is a summary of what happened:

8:46: Flight 11 crashed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center.

9:03: Flight 175 crashed into the South Tower of the World Trade Center.

9:37: Flight 77 crashed into the western side of the Pentagon.

9:59: The South Tower of the World Trade Center collapsed.

At 10:15, the scenes of destruction and carnage suddenly faded away and Mrs. Cantwell’s face appeared. She told us, “Due to the national emergency, Haven County has decided to close all schools and to send students home for the day. We ask you to stay where you are, in your second-period classes, until the buses return. We will call for the bus riders first, after which we will call for the car riders. Students with no ride home should report to the auditorium.”

Mrs. Cantwell’s face faded and CNN returned. At first, I could not believe what I was hearing. The CNN anchors, who should have been talking about New York City and Washington, D.C., were talking about us instead. About Somerset County. About western Pennsylvania.

We were under attack?

I turned to Arthur. “Pennsylvania?”

He waved me off—“Shut up”—and continued to glare at the screen.

A plane had just crashed in Somerset County, Pennsylvania. Basically right next to us. It could have been in Haven County. It could have been right here—on our school, on my house, on the Food Giant.

Mr. Proctor looked at me and said, “Remember today, September eleventh. It’s going to change everything.”

He raised up the remote and clicked to different channels. The horrible news was everywhere, and it just kept coming. A car bomb had detonated outside the State Department Building in Washington, D.C. There were mass evacuations going on in New York City and Washington.

Then, just before 10:30, the second World Trade Center tower followed the first, disintegrating before our eyes, killing everyone still trapped inside, including all the firefighters and police who had run in to save people.

I turned around and looked behind me. Most kids just looked stunned, like this was way too much for them to handle.

That Ben kid kept saying stuff like “My dad’s gonna be really pissed. Supermad. Like furious.”

Jenny Weaver sobbed as she stared at the TV. “All those people, thousands of them, they all have families.”

And me? What did I feel? I know this is strange, but I was secretly thrilled by the reports. We had never been part of the big story, the news headlines. Never. And now we were part of the biggest story to happen in my lifetime. It was happening right here. “Pennsylvania,” the reporters kept saying. And I felt connected to the big world, to the real world, for the first time. This was happening to us, and it was being recorded in my journal.

At 10:45, an announcement came on for bus riders to go to the bus loop. At eleven o’clock, car riders were told to gather out front at their drop-off spot. I figured that Mom would be tuned in to all this and would be there, but she was not. Neither was Arthur’s mom, my aunt Robin.

I hung out with Lilly, not speaking at all. Then I heard Arthur’s voice behind me. “Payback time, cuz! This is it. Vengeance is ours, saith the Lord!”

Lilly asked him, “What are you talking about?”

“Vengeance. Payback. I’m talking about a military response. They’ll be needing a lot of men, and I’ll be one of them.”

“A lot of men to do what?”

“To get whoever did this!”

I shook my head in total confusion. I asked, “Who would do this, Arthur? And why? It seems so crazy.”

Arthur shrugged. “Who knows? Who cares? It’s a matter of honor now. We’re going after them. We’re gonna kick ass and take names, cuz. The wrath of God will descend, and the infidel will be slain. Amen.”

When I looked closer, I was surprised to see that Lilly had been crying. She asked me, “Does this mean they’ll close the Food Giant today?”

I shook my head. “People will be panic-buying. Who knows when there’ll be more food deliveries. All planes are grounded. Maybe all trucks—”

“Tom!”

“What?”

“Just yes or no. Will they close the damn store?”

“No.”

“That’s all you have to say.”

Mom pulled up at 11:15. She told us, “Your father called. He said the store is a complete madhouse.”

We drove straight to the Food Giant parking lot. It was crowded and chaotic. Mom eased the car into a parking space. “They say we may not be getting groceries for days. I have to stock up.”

As we wended our way through the lot, I saw Dad and Bobby corralling carts. I hurried over to join them.

As soon as he spotted me, Bobby pointed and cried out, “Tom was there! He told me to do it. Didn’t you, Tom?”

I had no idea what he was talking about. The planes? The World Trade Center?

But then it hit me.

“Oh my God!” I stopped and stood with my mouth hanging open. I had forgotten all about the prank on Bobby. I had forgotten to tell Dad.

Bobby’s stubby finger stayed aimed at me.

Dad maneuvered a train of carts my way. He looked really pissed off. When he got close enough, he said through clenched teeth, “Of all days to pull a stunt like this! With our country under attack!”

“It was yesterday, Dad. We didn’t know—”

Bobby screamed, “You did know!”

“I mean about the attacks.” I half whispered to Dad, “Oh my God. What did Bobby do?”

Dad snarled, “He did what he was told to do.”

I cringed.

“Mrs. Mercer came up to me at eight, before all… this happened. She told me that Bobby had said something inappropriate. Did you put him up to it?”

“No!”

“Did you know anything about it?”

“Yes, I knew,” I admitted. “And I meant to tell you. I just forgot. I’m sorry.”