"All rights and all wrongs
Have long since blown away.
For causes are ashes where children lie slain."
Stan Rogers "The House of Orange."
Chris came back to the office after lunch and walked into a firestorm.
"How the hell can you say that?" Buck was demanding of Vin.
"Because I know." Vin was saying back. He kept his voice controlled, but Chris could hear the restrained anger.
"I think you know squat." Buck said. He caught sight of Chris just as finished, and he dropped his eyes in a guilty gesture.
"I'm all ears." Chris said to everyone in general, and Buck and Vin in particular. Nobody said anything. "You do realize that wasn't a suggestion."
Vin only bit his lips and turned to his computer. The other four members of the office seemed to wait just as impatiently as Chris. Buck finally took a deep breath and gestured broadly toward Vin.
"There was another school shooting, out in Oregon. And Vin here is blaming the victims."
"I am not blaming the victims. I'm saying those boys were victims themselves from a long while back. Maybe if somebody'd stood up for them even once they wouldn't a'felt like they had no choice."
"Always got a choice." Josiah said, mildly.
"Do you?" Vin snapped back. "Y'think so? Y'ever been the smallest or the poorest or the dirtiest or the stupidest kid in your class? You was probably on the debate team." He turned his gaze to Buck and Chris in turn. "Football, probably. And Chris was probably President of the whole damn Senior Class. Nobody wanted to piss you off, student or faculty. If y'ever got picked on every single day y'ever set foot in a school and all y'ever heard was 'put up with it', or 'ignore it' or 'boys will be boys' or 'jocks will be jocks', maybe you wouldn't say you always got a choice."
"They could've gone to their guidance counselor." Josiah tried again.
"And the guidance counselor tells them to find someplace else to walk so the jocks can't knock 'em down every afternoon. Or steal their books. Or call 'em names. Or just generally make 'em feel like dirt. Guidance counselors and teachers and principals don't make the bullies stop. They make it the victim's fault that he don't stay outta the way."
"Lots of other kids get picked on." Buck said.
"Lotsa other kids got good homes they can go to. Parents who'll listen to 'em. Parents who care. Not everybody's got that. I bet if them jocks had a problem, God Himself couldn't stop the school from taking care of it. 'Cause they're jocks, 'cause their folks got money, or some high falutin' other reason. Kids who got nothing get nothing, not even a reason to go on, and if they can take one or two or a dozen other kids with 'em, fine. Let other people hurt just as bad as they ever did. If I coulda got my hand on a gun when I was in high school, might be one or two less people walking around today."
"You don't mean that." Nathan said but Vin didn't answer him.
Chris stayed out of the fight. He knew Vin's background; the others didn't. Orphaned and left in the care of a grandfather who developed dementia while Vin was just starting high school, Chris knew Vin's teen years had been bad. He never realized they'd been this bad. That last statement though maybe needed some clarification.
Before Chris could tell him to come into his office, Vin stood up and punched the off button on his computer screen.
"I gotta get some air." He said, and hurried out of the office.
Chris turned to the rest of his staff. He noticed first the looks on JD and Ezra's faces.
"In many of his statements," Ezra said. "I must concur. I doubt that even superhuman intelligence would cast the slightest shadow on even mediocre athletic ability. Who knows how many children's psyches and general sense of self are sacrificed on the altar of sports in our high schools?"
"I got teased a lot in school." JD said. "I never wanted to kill anybody."
"You had a Mama who looked out for you." Buck told him. He had a thoughtful look on his face.
"It doesn't make the killings in Oregon right." Nathan said. "You don't overcome evil with evil. And killing sure isn't an answer for teasing."
Josiah shook his head. "I'd have to say that calling what Vin seems to have gone through 'teasing', is like calling a 'night terror' a bad dream. That's not bullying, that's emotional brutality. Killing's not the answer, but Vin's right – it should've been stopped long before it came to that."
"Where do you think he went?" Buck asked.
"Roof." Chris said.
Vin left the office in a such a hurry that he forgot it was below freezing outside and he didn't bring his coat with him. Even as cold as it was on the roof though, it didn't dull the heat of anger he could feel burning in his face. They didn't understand. Nobody understood what it was like. He wanted nothing more right now than to disappear from this place and reappear somewhere else, another job, anywhere he didn't have to face the others ever again.
He sat down on the cold asphalt roof, with his back against the outside wall, and pulled his jacket closer around himself. Maybe he could stay up here until quitting time and then sneak home. Maybe he could stay up here until he froze to death. He didn't expect the others to understand; he just hated feeling like he always felt – odd man out.
He heard the door to the stairwell begin to creak open. Chris no doubt – he was gonna have to explain that murderous remark. Maybe that would even cost him his job and right now, Vin couldn't say that would make him sorry.
Instead of Chris though, Buck appeared. Vin expected a continuation of the argument, but Buck didn't say anything as he closed the door and walked over to sit next to Vin. He wasn't wearing a coat either.
"I didn't know." He said.
"Bucklin, so help me, if you teased anybody in school, don't tell me or I'll have to hate you the rest of my life."
"People do change." Buck said.
"No, they don't. I know a fella who went to school with the Oklahoma City Bomber. Said he got picked on a lot. Said he worked a temp job for awhile in the same factory his father worked, after it happened and he got his locker vandalized something regular. Bullies don't outgrow it."
"Vin, I can't change what happened to you in high school, and I don't know as I agree 100 per cent with what you said downstairs, but you know – I want you to know – that if anybody so much as looks at you the wrong way, they have to answer to me. Larabee might think he's got dibbs protecting you, but if he don't move fast, all he'll have is my boot prints on his back. You're my friend, and nobody hurts my friends."
"You don't have to say that."
"You're right, I don't have to."
Vin considered how to answer.
"I know you mean it Buck, but -."
"You just ain't had a lot of practical experience in people standing up for you."
"No, I ain't."
"Well from now on Vin, you can just think of me as your fairy godmother, your genie in the bottle, your lucky star, your -."
Vin made a point of shifting himself farther away from Buck, who grinned.
"All I'm saying Vin is, friends can stand disagreeing. You ain't been with us long, but you'll find we can have some pretty heated discussions, even arguments, but we're still friends. JD might want to knock my block off and vice versa, but if anybody outside of our group tries it, they'll get a nasty surprise. A few nasty surprises. We argue, but we're all still friends. You come on back downstairs now and let me buy you some coffee. All anybody will care about is that you're OK."
"Chris is gonna want to know about me wanting to shoot people in high school."
"I wouldn't worry about that." Buck got to his feet and offered his hand to Vin. "He's still not sure that Ezra didn't kill anybody in high school. And we're never sure that Chris hasn't killed somebody since we seen him last."
Vin stood up and brushed himself off and didn't resist when Buck put his arm around his shoulders to walk back to the stairwell. He wanted to say 'thanks' but couldn't form the word. He didn't feel what Buck was telling him, but he believed that Buck was telling the truth. He wasn't comfortable with it, but he could move forward with it.
"I 'preciate it Buck."
"Anytime. You remember that – anytime."
The end.