| General Fiction posted January 4, 2017 | Chapters: |
...5 6 -7- 9... 
|
  |
Where do we start? Look at author notes, other 3 chapters.
A chapter in the book The True Test
Now what?
by jusylee72
| Background The True Test, Chapter one Teachers are asked to stay late for mandatory Standardized Testing in the auditorium. Something causes a massive explosion. What do the survivors do. |
Doug needed more help in the band hall. He appointed a triage team: The head coach, two of the younger coaches, a biology teacher, and our orchestra director. Bob Jones, a staunchly conservative Catholic had seven children. An avid boy scout troop leader and eagle scout, he knew how to survive in the wilderness. In his mind, this was just a concrete wilderness, waiting to be conquered.
Mitchell Murphy was in tremendous pain. As an assistant principal in charge of discipline, he performed his job to his best abilities. As a former coach and basketball player, he lived through injuries before.
"You have a compound fracture. I have no choice. I must attempt to set the leg. I won't lie to to you. This is really going to hurt.
It wasn't going to be easy. Mitch was six foot five inches and close to three hundred pounds.
"Coach, you and the other two have to hold him down. I have to lift the bone up first then try to get them together. It will be extremely painful."
Unfortunately, it took three attempts. He used two trombone slides to splint the leg. The men did a great job during the procedure. Afterward, one of the younger men went into the hallway and threw up.
Tommy Sanchez, our principal was in the worst shape. He had a massive head injury. He still had not gained consciousness.
Melanie our head counselor, injuries were also life threatening. She was conscious but confused. Mary, the biology teacher sat beside her trying to comfort her.
When he finally had a spare minute, Doug asked if anyone of the coaches had seen Patty. The woman's basketball coach spoke up. "She left to the bathroom about ten minutes before the shaking. She went out the other side of the auditorium. The side by the main office. I haven't seen her since but I don't think she is in the auditorium."
A sigh of relief filled Doug with hope but then a new fear entered. He had opened the door on that side. The floor had vanished. Hopefully, she made it to the faculty bathroom in the main office. He couldn't leave to find out. He had too much to do.
-----------------------
Judy
I heard the screams from our assistant principal through the walls between the two band halls. I remembered what I had in my purse. I had my left knee replaced the year before. It was doing great. However, I wasn't quite ready to have the right knee done yet. Most of the time I could manage the pain. Lately, I had taken up swimming and it was truly helping. However, my doctor had prescribed Vicoden for when if would bother me. I rarely took it at work, but I did have it in my purse. I picked up my purse and went into the band hall.
"Doug, I want you to take this for the ones who need it. It may not be legal to give other people my prescription but I'm fine and they need it much more than I do. It is Vicoden. I also have some Tylenol three. Some of the other older teachers may also have a few helpful drugs."
Doug nodded his head.
"Let me know if you need some later. You might start hurting later tonight. It's been a stressful day."
Once again I noticed how gentle he was. He took the pills and got a bottle of water. Mitch was in the corner of the room. He was sweating and in tremendous pain. Doug gave him two of the pills. Thirty minutes later Mitch was asleep. We covered him up with a piano cover. He had to stay warm.
I felt the adrenaline start to leave my body. I sat down for what I thought would be a brief moment. I woke up to silence. I must have been asleep for several hours. All the flashlights were off to save batteries. The darkness was overwhelming.
Fear overtook every part of me. The realization that I may never see my family again could no longer be denied. Tears racked my body. My phone had a tiny bit of life left. I turned the dim light on. I saw my hands. They were stained with dirt and blood, not my own. There was a small amount of water left in a bottle beside me. I used it to clean my face. I slipped back into sleep.
When I awoke this time I heard conversations. The back door was open. The light was beginning to rise bringing an orange haze to the sky. I made my way to the door. Devastation surrounded us. Fires were still burning. Rubble piles reminded me of the Twin Towers during 911.
The cars outside were useless. No visible road was passable. For the first time in my life, I was grateful my two oldest children lived out of state. Matthew, my youngest, worked near the airport, thirty miles from here. I tried to imagine him safe.
We were in a gruesome guessing game. The speculations started last night. Several spoke up.
"Could it have been a bomb?"
"The explosion was so loud, it had to be close."
"The second one felt like an earthquake."
"Yes, I know I felt the ground shake the second time. The first explosion surrounded us. "
" I heard a bunch of small explosions."
"Aliens? Apocolypse?"
The evangelist on our staff spoke up against that one. "I would have been saved. It might be the days before the end of the world, but God would take me."
The science teachers in our group came up with the most logical scenario. They believe it was an earthquake. It caused gas lines to explode. That would explain the small fires all around us. In the distance dark, heavy clouds were gathering, the wind pushing them slowly toward us. I smelled imminent rain. I was sure it would start tonight.
Several others joined me at the door. We started to plan.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Leadership was everywhere. We were trying to cooperate. So far we didn't have anyone competing to be the leader. I feared that would eventually happen.
We weren't to the point of having to form committees. We just started talking.
"Rain is coming soon. We need to collect water."
"Do you have any disinfectant spray? We need to clean out the trash cans. We can use them to hold the water."
"Thank God for Marching season. We have to keep the students hydrated so we have large thermoses. There in the closet to the right."
"The cafeteria is around the corner. Maybe it's fine. We need to divide up and explore."
"There will be glass and debris. We need to protect ourselves."
"We have white gloves in the uniform cabinet."
We began to realize how lucky we were to be in a band hall. They had tools, knives for making reeds, fundraiser junk food, practice rooms, ladders, thermoses, carts. None of us wanted to think of our families. We wanted something to do.
I was among the group that could no longer wait. We had to step out of here and find what we needed.
I was so happy I was wearing tennis shoes. Some of our fashioned minded teachers were hobbled by their high heels.
Breakfast was our first concern. No one was complaining yet, but we all knew hunger would soon find us.
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Nine of us were going to the cafeteria. We had no idea what we were going to find. Ken, the custodian had keys to the building. Randall, the calculus teacher, volunteered. So did two of the home ec teachers. The head coach and the two assistants from last night also volunteered again and me. One of our physic teachers, Jeff, also wanted to help
We put gloves on our hands for partial protection. We took pen and paper to take notes if we found food. We took flashlights. We found a broom in the closet that would help clear our way. We also took a pushcart used to move large instruments.
We opened the door. The hallway was dimly lit from the outside windows. Our cafeteria was large. The ceiling to floor windows at the far end was shattered. They still stood high. Another aftershock would tumble them. The cafeteria lines were caged in. Unfortunately, they were electronic. We would have to find a way to cut through them. Our other choice was to go out the door by the shattered window. We feared that even a small noise would cause the wall of glass to implode.
Our discussion was short. Ken said he would try the back door first. Once he got through he would come out and tell us. We could see through the cage into the back kitchen. It looked as if it was still intact. The cafeteria workers go home by three o'clock every day. They should have left before the explosion. That gave me hope that we wouldn't find anyone hurt or dead in there. We stood on the ramp to the cafeteria floor and watch as he tiptoed through ceiling tiles on the floor. He opened the door slowly afraid to disturb the glass. It may have only been a few minutes but it seemed much longer. When he came back to the door frame he motioned for three people to come first. The outside dumpster was blocking the door to the cafeteria. The men were able to move it. They motioned for us to follow.
The air was crisp as we walked outside. We stood looking for any sign of life. I wanted to see buildings. There was just more rubble. The lone church steeple was still standing in the distance.
The sky was getting darker. We needed to hurry before the storm hit. Those windows could fall trapping us outside. The large steel door was still intact. Ken fumbled with his large keychain until he found the right key.
I was overcome with wonder as we walked into the kitchen. It was shiny, clean the way the workers always left it. The walk-in cooler was by the back entrance. Our school cafeteria fed over two thousand students a day. We were excited to open the freezer. Even though there was no electricity it was still cold. The steel doors kept the cold air in. The home ec teachers took the writing pads and flashlights.
"Let's take a quick inventory." Macy had been at Taft for eighteen years. She was the head of the culinary unit. She was in her comfort zone. It was easy for her to tell us what to do.
"The rest of you find the pantry. Use the large pans to collect food we can use today. We will have to create a system. For now think simple, bread, peanut butter, jelly, cereal. I'm pretty sure cold cuts and cheese are in the walk-in. Bring the condiment packages. It's been less than 24 hours, the milk still may be good. We might as well use it now. It won't last. Check to see if there is bottled water in the back. We will have to ration that."
We scrambled a bunch of kids on a scavenger hunt. I felt the excitement of the group with each item we found. We were smiling making jokes, laughing. Jeff and Ken were trying to figure out a way to get the cages open so that we could go out without passing the fragile wall. "There must be a release switch somewhere, a manual override." Jeff was so logical. "Otherwise it would be a fire hazard for the school and would never have been installed."
I found a huge push broom. I was going to sweep my way back to the band hall so that the path was clear enough for our cart to get through when we went back.
Randle found trash bags. He began loading Gatorade, waters, juice boxes into the bag. He insisted we take the cookies. We put bread in the large pans. Cereal, milk, all of the things that Macy suggested. Macy and Cindy walked out of the walk in. They needed something to carry the cold cuts in. They grabbed the nearest containers.
I heard Ken's voice. "We found it. We can get out this way." Jeff was pushing the cage up.
Lightning lit up the cafeteria through the shattered wall. A loud clap of thunder followed quickly. The sound shook me, the volume deafening. Rain poured through the ceiling. The glass wall began to crack. It wavered precariously. It had a life of its own. It decided to tease us longer. It didn't fall. Not yet.
We gathered our treasures and headed to the band hall.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The push broom was a good idea. I was able to clear some of the debris in front of us on the way back from the cafeteria. We were greeted with smiling faces when we returned. A small group of teachers had already rearranged one of the band closets. The shelves had been emptied and the band equipment had been moved to the ensemble room. Our little pantry store began to take shape.
My amateur weather forecasting was accurate.
Thunder rumbled loudly, shaking the unsteady walls in our building. We watched the lightning through the open hallway door at the end of the corridor. Bright flashes of orange and red. There were ten steps leading up to the door outside. Water was already up to the 4th one. Small gushing rivers poured down the parking lot. Our school was built on a small hill. The main parking lot was flooded. Many started talking about venturing out and seeing what had happened. The weather would stop that from happening today.
One of the statistic's teachers, Alan, asked our band director for the phone list. Mine was stapled to my bulletin board in my office. We always get one at the beginning of the year. We all filled out a beginning of the year band forms that he found in the closet. Names, useless phone numbers that were once our connection to the world, addresses of our homes even though we didn't know if they were still intact, family information in case of emergency. He cross-referenced them with the phone list. Now we knew who was here and who was missing. I started to laugh when I saw the words - "Who should we contact in case of an emergency?" Today obviously qualified however it seemed senseless when we had no way to be rescued or transportation to leave and find our loved ones. It was a starting point, a point of reference.
Alan found some paper in the copier and began a list of survivors. Sadly, he also made a list of those who did not make it and those who were missing.
There we 64 of us in the band hall. I was surprised at how many people I didn't know. The teachers tended to stay in their own areas of the school. Now, all we knew was our new temporary home, a carpeted band hall. It was about the size of a basketball court and furnished with 150 band chairs and music stands. The tympani and the larger drums had been pushed into the corner. There were no windows only a back door to one side, an office space between the two band halls and a second smaller room. Right now they seemed structurally safe. There were a few blankets used to cover some of the equipment. We had plenty of useless electrical equipment. We had band uniforms for warmth. We had food. It was time for a meeting.
Many of us had already formed small groups. Some were talking to the people from their own departments. Older teachers seemed to congregate together. With no formality, we began to organize the chairs in a large two-row circle.
Mitchell Murphy was in tremendous pain. As an assistant principal in charge of discipline, he performed his job to his best abilities. As a former coach and basketball player, he lived through injuries before.
"You have a compound fracture. I have no choice. I must attempt to set the leg. I won't lie to to you. This is really going to hurt.
It wasn't going to be easy. Mitch was six foot five inches and close to three hundred pounds.
"Coach, you and the other two have to hold him down. I have to lift the bone up first then try to get them together. It will be extremely painful."
Unfortunately, it took three attempts. He used two trombone slides to splint the leg. The men did a great job during the procedure. Afterward, one of the younger men went into the hallway and threw up.
Tommy Sanchez, our principal was in the worst shape. He had a massive head injury. He still had not gained consciousness.
Melanie our head counselor, injuries were also life threatening. She was conscious but confused. Mary, the biology teacher sat beside her trying to comfort her.
When he finally had a spare minute, Doug asked if anyone of the coaches had seen Patty. The woman's basketball coach spoke up. "She left to the bathroom about ten minutes before the shaking. She went out the other side of the auditorium. The side by the main office. I haven't seen her since but I don't think she is in the auditorium."
A sigh of relief filled Doug with hope but then a new fear entered. He had opened the door on that side. The floor had vanished. Hopefully, she made it to the faculty bathroom in the main office. He couldn't leave to find out. He had too much to do.
-----------------------
Judy
I heard the screams from our assistant principal through the walls between the two band halls. I remembered what I had in my purse. I had my left knee replaced the year before. It was doing great. However, I wasn't quite ready to have the right knee done yet. Most of the time I could manage the pain. Lately, I had taken up swimming and it was truly helping. However, my doctor had prescribed Vicoden for when if would bother me. I rarely took it at work, but I did have it in my purse. I picked up my purse and went into the band hall.
"Doug, I want you to take this for the ones who need it. It may not be legal to give other people my prescription but I'm fine and they need it much more than I do. It is Vicoden. I also have some Tylenol three. Some of the other older teachers may also have a few helpful drugs."
Doug nodded his head.
"Let me know if you need some later. You might start hurting later tonight. It's been a stressful day."
Once again I noticed how gentle he was. He took the pills and got a bottle of water. Mitch was in the corner of the room. He was sweating and in tremendous pain. Doug gave him two of the pills. Thirty minutes later Mitch was asleep. We covered him up with a piano cover. He had to stay warm.
I felt the adrenaline start to leave my body. I sat down for what I thought would be a brief moment. I woke up to silence. I must have been asleep for several hours. All the flashlights were off to save batteries. The darkness was overwhelming.
Fear overtook every part of me. The realization that I may never see my family again could no longer be denied. Tears racked my body. My phone had a tiny bit of life left. I turned the dim light on. I saw my hands. They were stained with dirt and blood, not my own. There was a small amount of water left in a bottle beside me. I used it to clean my face. I slipped back into sleep.
When I awoke this time I heard conversations. The back door was open. The light was beginning to rise bringing an orange haze to the sky. I made my way to the door. Devastation surrounded us. Fires were still burning. Rubble piles reminded me of the Twin Towers during 911.
The cars outside were useless. No visible road was passable. For the first time in my life, I was grateful my two oldest children lived out of state. Matthew, my youngest, worked near the airport, thirty miles from here. I tried to imagine him safe.
We were in a gruesome guessing game. The speculations started last night. Several spoke up.
"Could it have been a bomb?"
"The explosion was so loud, it had to be close."
"The second one felt like an earthquake."
"Yes, I know I felt the ground shake the second time. The first explosion surrounded us. "
" I heard a bunch of small explosions."
"Aliens? Apocolypse?"
The evangelist on our staff spoke up against that one. "I would have been saved. It might be the days before the end of the world, but God would take me."
The science teachers in our group came up with the most logical scenario. They believe it was an earthquake. It caused gas lines to explode. That would explain the small fires all around us. In the distance dark, heavy clouds were gathering, the wind pushing them slowly toward us. I smelled imminent rain. I was sure it would start tonight.
Several others joined me at the door. We started to plan.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Leadership was everywhere. We were trying to cooperate. So far we didn't have anyone competing to be the leader. I feared that would eventually happen.
We weren't to the point of having to form committees. We just started talking.
"Rain is coming soon. We need to collect water."
"Do you have any disinfectant spray? We need to clean out the trash cans. We can use them to hold the water."
"Thank God for Marching season. We have to keep the students hydrated so we have large thermoses. There in the closet to the right."
"The cafeteria is around the corner. Maybe it's fine. We need to divide up and explore."
"There will be glass and debris. We need to protect ourselves."
"We have white gloves in the uniform cabinet."
We began to realize how lucky we were to be in a band hall. They had tools, knives for making reeds, fundraiser junk food, practice rooms, ladders, thermoses, carts. None of us wanted to think of our families. We wanted something to do.
I was among the group that could no longer wait. We had to step out of here and find what we needed.
I was so happy I was wearing tennis shoes. Some of our fashioned minded teachers were hobbled by their high heels.
Breakfast was our first concern. No one was complaining yet, but we all knew hunger would soon find us.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nine of us were going to the cafeteria. We had no idea what we were going to find. Ken, the custodian had keys to the building. Randall, the calculus teacher, volunteered. So did two of the home ec teachers. The head coach and the two assistants from last night also volunteered again and me. One of our physic teachers, Jeff, also wanted to help
We put gloves on our hands for partial protection. We took pen and paper to take notes if we found food. We took flashlights. We found a broom in the closet that would help clear our way. We also took a pushcart used to move large instruments.
We opened the door. The hallway was dimly lit from the outside windows. Our cafeteria was large. The ceiling to floor windows at the far end was shattered. They still stood high. Another aftershock would tumble them. The cafeteria lines were caged in. Unfortunately, they were electronic. We would have to find a way to cut through them. Our other choice was to go out the door by the shattered window. We feared that even a small noise would cause the wall of glass to implode.
Our discussion was short. Ken said he would try the back door first. Once he got through he would come out and tell us. We could see through the cage into the back kitchen. It looked as if it was still intact. The cafeteria workers go home by three o'clock every day. They should have left before the explosion. That gave me hope that we wouldn't find anyone hurt or dead in there. We stood on the ramp to the cafeteria floor and watch as he tiptoed through ceiling tiles on the floor. He opened the door slowly afraid to disturb the glass. It may have only been a few minutes but it seemed much longer. When he came back to the door frame he motioned for three people to come first. The outside dumpster was blocking the door to the cafeteria. The men were able to move it. They motioned for us to follow.
The air was crisp as we walked outside. We stood looking for any sign of life. I wanted to see buildings. There was just more rubble. The lone church steeple was still standing in the distance.
The sky was getting darker. We needed to hurry before the storm hit. Those windows could fall trapping us outside. The large steel door was still intact. Ken fumbled with his large keychain until he found the right key.
I was overcome with wonder as we walked into the kitchen. It was shiny, clean the way the workers always left it. The walk-in cooler was by the back entrance. Our school cafeteria fed over two thousand students a day. We were excited to open the freezer. Even though there was no electricity it was still cold. The steel doors kept the cold air in. The home ec teachers took the writing pads and flashlights.
"Let's take a quick inventory." Macy had been at Taft for eighteen years. She was the head of the culinary unit. She was in her comfort zone. It was easy for her to tell us what to do.
"The rest of you find the pantry. Use the large pans to collect food we can use today. We will have to create a system. For now think simple, bread, peanut butter, jelly, cereal. I'm pretty sure cold cuts and cheese are in the walk-in. Bring the condiment packages. It's been less than 24 hours, the milk still may be good. We might as well use it now. It won't last. Check to see if there is bottled water in the back. We will have to ration that."
We scrambled a bunch of kids on a scavenger hunt. I felt the excitement of the group with each item we found. We were smiling making jokes, laughing. Jeff and Ken were trying to figure out a way to get the cages open so that we could go out without passing the fragile wall. "There must be a release switch somewhere, a manual override." Jeff was so logical. "Otherwise it would be a fire hazard for the school and would never have been installed."
I found a huge push broom. I was going to sweep my way back to the band hall so that the path was clear enough for our cart to get through when we went back.
Randle found trash bags. He began loading Gatorade, waters, juice boxes into the bag. He insisted we take the cookies. We put bread in the large pans. Cereal, milk, all of the things that Macy suggested. Macy and Cindy walked out of the walk in. They needed something to carry the cold cuts in. They grabbed the nearest containers.
I heard Ken's voice. "We found it. We can get out this way." Jeff was pushing the cage up.
Lightning lit up the cafeteria through the shattered wall. A loud clap of thunder followed quickly. The sound shook me, the volume deafening. Rain poured through the ceiling. The glass wall began to crack. It wavered precariously. It had a life of its own. It decided to tease us longer. It didn't fall. Not yet.
We gathered our treasures and headed to the band hall.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The push broom was a good idea. I was able to clear some of the debris in front of us on the way back from the cafeteria. We were greeted with smiling faces when we returned. A small group of teachers had already rearranged one of the band closets. The shelves had been emptied and the band equipment had been moved to the ensemble room. Our little pantry store began to take shape.
My amateur weather forecasting was accurate.
Thunder rumbled loudly, shaking the unsteady walls in our building. We watched the lightning through the open hallway door at the end of the corridor. Bright flashes of orange and red. There were ten steps leading up to the door outside. Water was already up to the 4th one. Small gushing rivers poured down the parking lot. Our school was built on a small hill. The main parking lot was flooded. Many started talking about venturing out and seeing what had happened. The weather would stop that from happening today.
One of the statistic's teachers, Alan, asked our band director for the phone list. Mine was stapled to my bulletin board in my office. We always get one at the beginning of the year. We all filled out a beginning of the year band forms that he found in the closet. Names, useless phone numbers that were once our connection to the world, addresses of our homes even though we didn't know if they were still intact, family information in case of emergency. He cross-referenced them with the phone list. Now we knew who was here and who was missing. I started to laugh when I saw the words - "Who should we contact in case of an emergency?" Today obviously qualified however it seemed senseless when we had no way to be rescued or transportation to leave and find our loved ones. It was a starting point, a point of reference.
Alan found some paper in the copier and began a list of survivors. Sadly, he also made a list of those who did not make it and those who were missing.
There we 64 of us in the band hall. I was surprised at how many people I didn't know. The teachers tended to stay in their own areas of the school. Now, all we knew was our new temporary home, a carpeted band hall. It was about the size of a basketball court and furnished with 150 band chairs and music stands. The tympani and the larger drums had been pushed into the corner. There were no windows only a back door to one side, an office space between the two band halls and a second smaller room. Right now they seemed structurally safe. There were a few blankets used to cover some of the equipment. We had plenty of useless electrical equipment. We had band uniforms for warmth. We had food. It was time for a meeting.
Many of us had already formed small groups. Some were talking to the people from their own departments. Older teachers seemed to congregate together. With no formality, we began to organize the chairs in a large two-row circle.
The debate teacher suggested rules for discussion. She said it helps to have a physical object to pass around. We decided to use a wooden hall pass that had the Taft mascot on it. The person with the speaking pass may talk or not. Our principal was still unconscious, tended to by the athletic trainer. There was no chosen leader.
Mickey was a counselor at our school. He started the conversation.
"Look, we need to make some decisions. We need to work together. None of us have all the answers, in fact, we don't even know what happened. One thing is for sure. We need to have a plan. We need to cooperate. So far we have done just that. It has been close to 24 hours since this ordeal began. I don't know about how you're feeling but each hour is making me more and more anxious. Try to listen without judgment. Arguments will get us nowhere. Some of us know each other, either casually or closely. Please introduce yourself when you talk."
He gave the pass to the person next to him. Margie was a small woman, a little under five feet tall. She was in her early 50's. She was part of our usual lunch group. She taught English as a second language.
"I'm Margie. More than anything I want to just go home. When I look outside I know that is not possible at this time. I appreciate what everyone has done so far. My only suggestion is that we form some committees for the larger needs we have. Some of you have already ventured out and provided us with food for now. I am grateful for that. Maybe we should all talk about what we have skills in. I am a great cook. However, right now that might only mean that I help make some great peanut butter and jelly sandwiches." She sat down to gentle laughter.
Next to her was the Head Football Coach. "Neil Fredricks, head coach." He spoke as he would to his team. "Many of you know I am the head coach here. I am used to making fast decisions. As soon as this happened I wanted to go out and find help. Luckily, I have also learned that impulse doesn't always win the game. I am physically strong and will help with the grunt work. I do have a bad temper at times. This is not the time for that. I would like to try to get to the gym to get medical supplies from the trainer's room. I also grew up with a grandfather who was a mechanic and I hope we can eventually get some of these vehicles working. We could possibly charge our phones if we can find a car we can start. Other than that, I will pass it on for now."
The pass continued around the room. Some people passing, not ready to talk. Some people were crying. Some were openly angry.
Katy broke all our hearts. She spoke what we were thinking.
"I have to find a way out of here. I have a two-year-old at a daycare 10 miles from here. My oldest child is there too if the van picked her up from her elementary school. No one can help. I can't call my husband or my other family. I had a feeling something was wrong. I wanted to leave. I am angry that I didn't trust my instincts. I have always followed rules. My heart was telling me to leave but I followed the stupid rules. Damn those rules. I want to know if my babies are okay. I need to know if they are even alive." She became more and more hysterical as she spoke. The room began to weep. Our counselor had to help her sit down. She was too distraught to keep speaking.
None of us wanted to admit just how helpless we felt. More realizations were to come.
"I'm Jimmy. I have been an English teacher here for close to 20 years. I have to tell you something that is very important. I have, to be honest. I am a type one diabetic. I only have supplies with me for two more days. There are probably others in here that have similar concerns. I know that there is a pharmacy about two miles from here. Tomorrow, I intend on trying to get there. I hope some of you will come with me. If I wait longer than that I may go into withdrawals later this week. If that happens, I may change. I may become hostile and angry. I don't want you to see me that way but if it happens I will understand what you may have to do. If you have to physically restrain me at least you will know why."
His honesty touched us all. I knew of two of our teachers who were on antidepressants. Sudden withdrawal could be a major problem. The meeting went on for over an hour. We had some practical suggestions and decided to start brainstorming logistic problems in small groups. As teachers, we were used to solving classroom problems. Now we were on a much bigger stage. For now, it looked like we wanted to cooperate with each other. Hysteria was still a few disappointments away from us.
Before we broke up, one more teacher took the pass.
"I have a gun in my car. I ask that you not judge me. I have a license for the concealment. I know the school system says that they are exempt from that right. But right now, I will tell you this. I am going to help Jimmy find his medicine. but I am not going without protection. We have no idea what has taken over our lives at this moment."
The room grew quiet until two others admitted they also had hidden guns. The pass came to Katy.
I had one last thought to share. "I don't know why I didn't think of this earlier. What about the secretaries in the front office. We need to find out if they are ok.
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Mickey was a counselor at our school. He started the conversation.
"Look, we need to make some decisions. We need to work together. None of us have all the answers, in fact, we don't even know what happened. One thing is for sure. We need to have a plan. We need to cooperate. So far we have done just that. It has been close to 24 hours since this ordeal began. I don't know about how you're feeling but each hour is making me more and more anxious. Try to listen without judgment. Arguments will get us nowhere. Some of us know each other, either casually or closely. Please introduce yourself when you talk."
He gave the pass to the person next to him. Margie was a small woman, a little under five feet tall. She was in her early 50's. She was part of our usual lunch group. She taught English as a second language.
"I'm Margie. More than anything I want to just go home. When I look outside I know that is not possible at this time. I appreciate what everyone has done so far. My only suggestion is that we form some committees for the larger needs we have. Some of you have already ventured out and provided us with food for now. I am grateful for that. Maybe we should all talk about what we have skills in. I am a great cook. However, right now that might only mean that I help make some great peanut butter and jelly sandwiches." She sat down to gentle laughter.
Next to her was the Head Football Coach. "Neil Fredricks, head coach." He spoke as he would to his team. "Many of you know I am the head coach here. I am used to making fast decisions. As soon as this happened I wanted to go out and find help. Luckily, I have also learned that impulse doesn't always win the game. I am physically strong and will help with the grunt work. I do have a bad temper at times. This is not the time for that. I would like to try to get to the gym to get medical supplies from the trainer's room. I also grew up with a grandfather who was a mechanic and I hope we can eventually get some of these vehicles working. We could possibly charge our phones if we can find a car we can start. Other than that, I will pass it on for now."
The pass continued around the room. Some people passing, not ready to talk. Some people were crying. Some were openly angry.
Katy broke all our hearts. She spoke what we were thinking.
"I have to find a way out of here. I have a two-year-old at a daycare 10 miles from here. My oldest child is there too if the van picked her up from her elementary school. No one can help. I can't call my husband or my other family. I had a feeling something was wrong. I wanted to leave. I am angry that I didn't trust my instincts. I have always followed rules. My heart was telling me to leave but I followed the stupid rules. Damn those rules. I want to know if my babies are okay. I need to know if they are even alive." She became more and more hysterical as she spoke. The room began to weep. Our counselor had to help her sit down. She was too distraught to keep speaking.
None of us wanted to admit just how helpless we felt. More realizations were to come.
"I'm Jimmy. I have been an English teacher here for close to 20 years. I have to tell you something that is very important. I have, to be honest. I am a type one diabetic. I only have supplies with me for two more days. There are probably others in here that have similar concerns. I know that there is a pharmacy about two miles from here. Tomorrow, I intend on trying to get there. I hope some of you will come with me. If I wait longer than that I may go into withdrawals later this week. If that happens, I may change. I may become hostile and angry. I don't want you to see me that way but if it happens I will understand what you may have to do. If you have to physically restrain me at least you will know why."
His honesty touched us all. I knew of two of our teachers who were on antidepressants. Sudden withdrawal could be a major problem. The meeting went on for over an hour. We had some practical suggestions and decided to start brainstorming logistic problems in small groups. As teachers, we were used to solving classroom problems. Now we were on a much bigger stage. For now, it looked like we wanted to cooperate with each other. Hysteria was still a few disappointments away from us.
Before we broke up, one more teacher took the pass.
"I have a gun in my car. I ask that you not judge me. I have a license for the concealment. I know the school system says that they are exempt from that right. But right now, I will tell you this. I am going to help Jimmy find his medicine. but I am not going without protection. We have no idea what has taken over our lives at this moment."
The room grew quiet until two others admitted they also had hidden guns. The pass came to Katy.
I had one last thought to share. "I don't know why I didn't think of this earlier. What about the secretaries in the front office. We need to find out if they are ok.
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The True Test, Chapter one Teachers are asked to stay late for mandatory Standardized Testing in the auditorium. Towards the end of the training, something causes a massive explosion. Some die instantly, Some suffer. They find shelter in the band hall.
Chapter 2 - The survivors decide to go back to see if they have any more survivors in the Auditorium. They find two alive, but injured. The after shock kills them both. However they hear a pounding and discover a room with people including their principal who is gravely injured.
Chapter 3 - We need food.
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Chapter 2 - The survivors decide to go back to see if they have any more survivors in the Auditorium. They find two alive, but injured. The after shock kills them both. However they hear a pounding and discover a room with people including their principal who is gravely injured.
Chapter 3 - We need food.
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