Chapter Seventeen

A Friend or a Foe

Travis Becker ran as fast as he could for he was late in his first period that was because he watched the morning news about the recent murder last night. Almost all the news channel covered the death of one of Mapleton’s finest detective, Robert Weismann, who was killed inside his vehicle. Travis got really anxious upon realizing that people in their town were being killed in succession.

His first class was with Mr. Brent Jones’. As he reached the classroom, he started catching his breath. He caught everyone’s attention when he stood up the door.

 “Come in, Travis,” Mr. Jones delightedly invited him, “we’re just getting started.”

Travis entered smiling as he wiped his sweaty forehead. Richard Grayson, Louis Lockwood, Ismail Ambani, Jude O’Brien, Willie Hample, Malcolm Schmidt, Claire Summers, Quentin Hamilton, and Jenna Lucas were in his class during this period.

There were seven rows and seven columns of chairs inside the class. Travis was seating at the front of the fourth column; Louis was seating at the last seat of the fourth column; Richard was seating at the fourth row of the first column; and Ismail was seating at the fourth row of the last column.

“So, class, let’s resume,” Mr. Jones clapped his hands as he resumed, “what is your biggest dream? Anyone? I need a volunteer.”

Malcolm Schmidt quickly and excitedly raised his right arm.

Mr. Jones called Malcolm.

“Well,” Malcolm said nobly, “I wanna famous!”

Everyone in class smiled. Mr. Jones smiled as well, “what kind of popularity you want to achieve?”

“Hmm... good question,” Malcolm rubbed his chin while thinking.

The class started to giggle with Malcolm’s manner in talking as if Mr. Brent Jones was just his buddy.

Malcolm breathed in and out before answering, “I want to be a celebrity: an internet sensation, maybe. I want to be seen on YouTube or maybe Facebook with my awesome videos that will make me popular; reach millions of hits; be trending on Twitter and be talked around the world.” While talking, his eyes looked dazzled looking nowhere as if his sight could see through the ceiling.

“Okay,” Mr. Jones said, “that’s a huge dream you got, Mr. Schmidt. Thank you.” Then,  Mr. Jones scanned the class. “Who else? Come on. I’m encouraging you to speak up and express yourselves.”

 Jude O’Brien raised his left arm.

“Go ahead, O’Brien.”

 “Like our drama boy here,” Jude started a he glanced at Malcolm, “I also wanna be famous.”

Most of his classmates cheered him especially the girls and his friends from the football team.

“I want to be known for something that I have gone through,” Jude continued. “Maybe someday, I would write about my experiences. Apart from that, sir, I also wanna be a pro-footballer! Yeah!”

With his last statement, his class hooted and made noises. Jude even gave high fives to his friends.

Then, Mr. Jones called another one and kept the ball rolling. He called almost everyone in class: as well as Travis, Richard, Ismail and Louis. It was as if the whole period was about listening to his student’s dreams – pretty much obvious that Mr. Jones has not prepared any lesson for that day. Then, he finally called one last person: the one who was seating at the center of the fourth column and fourth row: Willie Hample.

“Mr. Hample, you’re the last but certainly, ain’t the least,” Mr. Jones said. “Share us, what’s your biggest dream?”

All eyes were on Willie as he stood up slowly and awkwardly with his hands trembling. “My biggest dream is...”

Everyone broke to silence.

Willie’s eyeballs rounded from left to right. “...is to be free.”

“Free?” Mr. Jones clarified. “This is a Democratic country, Mr. Hample.”

“Free in way...,” Willie butted-in, “not being tormented. Not being told what to do; not being threatened on something which might cause you into trouble... I can’t trust anyone right now. I---I just want to be... free.” Then, Willie slowly sat down and wiped his right eye.

Travis, Richard, Louis, and Ismail exchanged glanced at each other.

Willie seemed to be like us. We wanted to be free too. Travis thought.   

Mr. Jones suddenly clapped his hands. “Okay, it’s been a wonderful period to hear what you want to be. Some are usual, some are cool, some are weird, and some are unexpected. Now that you’ve answered the “what”, grab a sheet of paper: it’s essay time. You’ll be answering now the “how” as in, how will you be able to achieve your dreams? No word limitation. Go!”

After ten minutes, the school bell rang. “Wow, your dreams sure ate our time!” Mr. Jones joked.

Everyone immediately grabbed their bags and were ready to go. “So, I’ll leave it to you as you homework! Submit that neatly, grammatically, and scholarly.”

Travis waited for all his classmates to come out. When everything was almost cleared, he approached Brent Jones. “Hey.”

“Travis,” Brent greeted in a reserved manner.

“I hope you are fine.”

Brent narrowed his eyes to Travis, “of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I gotta go,” Travis said when Louis called him, “Bye, Mr. Jones.”

Brent narrowed his eyes thinking why.

Travis met Richard, Ismail and Louis waiting for him outside the room with Jude O’Brien talking to Richard about their football practice later. As Travis approached them, Jude walked away.

“What were you doing with Mr. Jones?” Louis asked.

“Duh, we just had a class there,” Travis said, “and I was talking with him, of course.”

When they reached the comfort room, Richard invited them to get inside as if it was important.

“I almost got caught last night,” Richard started.

“What?” Ismail asked, “how?”

“Wait,” Louis stopped them, and then he peeked at the cubicles to see if there were people eavesdropping. Luckily, it was just the four of them.   

“Surrendering the wristwatch was a disaster,” Richard resumed talking.

The guys listened to him.

“We planned to tell the police that we went home early, right?” he continued.

The boys nodded.

“It got worse when I gave this to Weismann. He asked me questions why the watch was in the van if we’re not with Edward.”

 “What did you tell him, them?” Travis asked.

 “I---I don’t know,” Richard fidgeted, “my mouth was faster than my brain, last night. Words came out instantly. But at least it saved me. He even told me that he will be asking Jude O’Brien: confirming everything.”

“No way,” Travis cried.

“No need to worry,” Ismail butted-in, “good thing that Weismann is dead.”

 “I know, right?” Richard agreed. “I just heard it from the news this morning. But I don’t get it.”

Travis and Louis looked at Richard while Ismail combed his hair in front of the mirror.

"Did E just help us?” Richard asked. “I mean, if Weismann was still alive, we would have been detained by now. We’ll be screwed and over.”

“You’re right,” Louis said, “but I still don’t trust E even though he saved our asses off.”

“Are we sure that it was E who killed him?” Travis wondered.

“Who else would have killed him?” Ismail answered.

Travis was still nervous. Then, he started changing the topic. “Speaking of trust, who was Willie referring to with his speech a while ago.”

“Yeah,” Richard said as he put hair wax on his hair, “he sounded just like us: being manipulated by someone.”

“I have a feeling it’s E,” Travis concluded.

 “I’m feeling he’s E,” Ismail cried.

Suddenly, silence entered.

Louis looked at his wristwatch. “I don’t know about you guys, but I think we’re late for our next class.”

Travis was still looking at his reflection in the mirror.

“Dude,” Ismail called. “You coming?”

Travis smiled. “Like Willie, I also wanted to be free.”