Hazards of Time Travel. Joyce Carol Oates

Чтение книги онлайн.

       THE ARREST

      The words were brisk, impersonal: “Strohl, Adriane. Hands behind your back.”

      It happened so fast. At graduation rehearsal.

      So fast! I was too surprised—too scared—to think of resisting.

      Except I guess that I did—try to “resist”—in childish desperation tried to duck and cringe away from the officers’ rough hands on me—wrenching my arms behind my back with such force, I had to bite my lips to keep from screaming.

      What was happening? I could not believe it—I was being arrested.

      Yet even in my shock thinking I will not scream. I will not beg for mercy.

      My wrists were handcuffed behind my back. Within seconds I was a captive of the Homeland Security.

      I’d only just given my valedictorian’s speech and had stepped away from the podium, to come down from the auditorium stage, when there came our principal Mr. Mackay with a peculiar expression on his face—muted anger, righteousness, but fear also—to point at me, as if the arresting officers needed him to point me out at close range.

      “That is she—‘Adriane Strohl.’ That is the treasonous girl you seek.”

      Mr. Mackay’s words were strangely stilted. He seemed very angry with me—but why? Because of my valedictorian’s speech? But the speech had consisted entirely of questions—not answers, or accusations.

      I’d known that Mr. Mackay didn’t like me—didn’t know me very well but knew of me from my teachers. But it was shocking to see in an adult’s face a look of genuine hatred.

      “She was warned. They are all warned. We did our best to educate her as a patriot, but—the girl is a born provocateur.”

      Provocateur! I knew what the term meant, but I’d never heard such a charge before, applied to me.

      Later I would realize that the Arrest Warrant must have been drawn up for me before the rehearsal—of course. Mr. Mackay and his faculty advisers must have reported me to Youth Disciplinary before they’d even heard my valedictory speech—they’d guessed that it would be “treasonous” and that I couldn’t be allowed to give it at the graduation ceremony. And the Patriot Democracy Scholarship—that must have been a cruel trick, as well.

      As others stood staring at the front of the brightly lighted auditorium the Arrest Warrant was read to me by the female Arresting Officer. I was too stunned to hear most of it—only the accusing words arrest, detention, reassignment, sentencing—Treason-Speech and Questioning of Authority.

      QUICKLY THEN, Mr. Mackay called for an “emergency assembly” of the senior class.

      Murmuring and excited my classmates settled into the auditorium. There were 322 students in the class, and like wildfire news of my arrest had spread among them within minutes.

      Gravely Mr. Mackay announced from a podium that Adriane Strohl, “formerly” valedictorian of the class, had been arrested by the State on charges of Treason and Questioning of Authority; and what was required now was a “vote of confidence” from her peers regarding this action.

      That is, all members of the senior class (excepting Adriane Strohl) were to vote on whether to confirm the arrest, or to challenge it. “We will ask for a show of hands,” Mr. Mackay said, voice quavering with the solemnity of the occasion, “in a full, fair, and unbiased demonstration of democracy.”

      At this time I was positioned, handcuffed, with a wet, streaked/guilty face, at the very edge of the stage. As if my classmates needed to be reminded who the arrestee Adriane Strohl was.

      Gripping my upper arms were two husky Youth Disciplinary Officers from the Youth Disciplinary Division of Homeland Security. They were one man and one woman and they wore dark blue uniforms and were equipped with billy clubs, Tasers, Mace, and revolvers in heavy holsters around their waists. My classmates stared wide-eyed, both intimidated and thrilled. An arrest! At school! And a show-of-hands vote which was not a novelty in itself except on this exciting occasion.

      “Boys and girls! Attention! All those in favor of Adriane Strohl being stripped of the honor of class valedictorian as a consequence of having committed treason and questioned authority, raise your hands—yes?” There was a brief stunned pause. Brief.

      Hesitantly, a few hands were lifted. Then, a few more.

      No doubt the presence of the uniformed Youth Disciplinary Officers glaring at them roused my classmates to action. Entire rows lifted their hands—Yes!

      Here and there were individuals who shifted uneasily in their seats. They were not voting, yet. I caught the eye of my friend Carla whose face too appeared to be wet with tears. And there was Paige all but signaling to me—I’m sorry, Adriane. I have no choice.

      As in a nightmare, at last a sea of hands were raised against me. If there were СКАЧАТЬ