Brian slouched forward in his seat, feeling quite down. He jammed hard on the buzzer as another question was posed, but once again the indomitable Jeffrey Martin, already with ten correct questions so far, beat him to the punch and promptly made it eleven as the bell to end the second round rang out. He shot a forlorn glance at the scoreboard off at stage left, showing the sad truth: 56-11 in Lake Forest Central's favor. It was going to take a miracle to come back from this one-but a miracle he was determined to find...
He glanced back over at the Lake Forest Central table as the Shermer team trudged off to the side of the stage for one last pep talk from Mr. Jacobson. Almost immediately, there was a swishing of golden hair on the far end as Melissa abruptly turned away to look at the audience. She had seemed to be looking over at the Shermer table a lot during the evening, he'd noticed-which might well explain why she'd only answered one question thus far-but he knew it couldn't have anything to do with him, not any chance in the world. She did also seem somewhat less enthused than her teammates, maintaining a neutral expression that contrasted with their exuberant ones, clearly feeling the title was already locked up for a tenth straight year. She had to be the type that held off celebrating until victory was assured, he reasoned. At least they shared that trait if nothing else. His gaze also fell in the front row. His family looked disappointed, and he couldn't blame them, much as he wished they weren't; so dominating had been Lake Forest Central's performance so far that he'd been completely shut out. If he didn't get at least one answer right between now and the end...
He tried to put that terrible thought out of his mind as he joined his teammates around their instructor. "All right, you're doing pretty good, considering how good they are," Mr. Jacobson tried to assure his team, a melancholy expression on his face knowing he only had five more minutes to do what he'd done for so long.
"Just come out and say it," Josh lamented, "We're terrible; we don't belong here."
"No, of course you belong here," Mr. Jacobson tried to cheer him up, "All of you've come this far..."
"And that's why we're going to finish it," Brian found himself saying out loud without even realizing it. "We're not dead yet; let's go out and..."
"Brian, I want to win as much as you do, but let's be realistic," Lori tried to reason with him, "We're going to need at least ten questions right in five minutes, and hope they get at least one wrong, preferably more. Do you realize the odds of that? We did good, but..."
"We're not giving up," he said firmly, a steely glint coming into his eyes, "Mr. Jacobson's going out a winner, by any ethical means we can manage."
"Well Brian, I appreciate that you feel that way about me, but..." the teacher started to say, but was cut off as the judges stood up and waved his team back to their table. "Right, you heard him guys, let's do the impossible!" Corey was at least still enthusiastic . He leaned close to Brian as they sat down and whispered in his ear, "That's what I want to hear."
"Your father deserves nothing less from us for all he's done for us and Shermer High over the years," Brian whispered back, nodding. He caught sight of Matt over Corey's shoulder, shaking his head and mouthing, "It's only a game, Brian; does it really matter how it ends?" "Tonight it does, Matt," he mouthed back. He glanced back at his parents in the audience. They tried to mask their disappointment with large fake smiles and thumbs-up gestures at him. In his heart, he knew any chance for them to love him beyond this point hung on making the impossible dream reality...
"May I have your attention," Professor Gotch spoke into his microphone, "It is time for the final round. The clock will be set at five minutes; only toss up questions will be asked. A correct answer will gain the team in question five points; a wrong answer will bring about a penalty of the same amount. The team ahead after this round will be crowned champion. Both sides set?"
The Lake Forest Central team (noticeably excepting a still apparently indifferent Melissa) cheered in agreement; the majority of the Shermer team merely raised their hands wearily. "Let's just get this over with so we can go home and figure out what went wrong," Josh mumbled in defeat at the end of the table.
Brian couldn't stop himself from flashing a glare at the junior. He seized his signaling button with a flourish as Gotch gestured for the timekeeper to start the clock. There were now exactly five minutes to either glory or Perdition. "Please God, let this work somehow," he begged in his mind.
"First question," Gotch consulted the card, "During the First Barbary War, General William Eaton led an ultimately aborted attempt to overthrow this Tripolitan ruler who had taken American ships..."
Brian's heart leaped; he knew that answer. He frantically pressed down on the button and was ecstatic to see his light come on for the first time all match. He gestured for the microphone. "Bashaw Yusuf," the words rolled off his tongue in a flash, desperate to get them out in case they made a snap judgement that someone else had buzzed in first.
"And that is correct; five points to Shermer," Gotch nodded, "Next: this largest of shark species feeds solely on plankton, having..."
Within seconds, Brian found himself ringing in successfully again. "Whale shark," he breathed, glancing sideways at the clock: four minutes and forty seconds for at least eight more right answers.
"Correct again. Toss up in entertainment: this supposed Chinese magician, the most famous illusionist to die performing the bullet catch, was actually an American by the name of William Robinson."
Brian lunged for the button, but the familiar sound of Jeffrey's buzzer sounding instead rang out. He suppressed a sigh; just when they seemed to be on a roll...
"Ching Ling Foo."
There was an abrupt silence from Gotch. "Uh...that's, that's incorrect," he seemed shocked that the hitherto fore unstoppable Jeffrey could have possibly messed up; a loud shocked gasp indeed rose up from the Lake Forest Central contingent in the audience, "Um, Shermer, you have a chance now; any guesses?"
Corey was on top of the buzzer in a flash. "Chung Ling Soo," he proposed, nodding hard as if he already knew he was right. He flashed Brian an encouraged look that clearly said, "Let's do it."
"And that's correct," Gotch regained his composure-mostly. "Next, a math problem, so you may use your calculators here..."
"Well, at least they're finally showing some signs of life," Andrew remarked from the back of the auditorium.
"Why bother is my question? It's clearly already too little too late," Bender shrugged.
"Better late than never, and at least Brian can go home happy that he got some answers in," Allison wasn't watching the action at the moment, leafing instead through her own personal program from the front concession stand. "I'm surprised he'd've chosen Northwestern; surely a lot more bigger colleges would have gone clamoring for him."
"It'll all about resale value, Reynolds; after what happened that landed him with us, his stock went down through the floor," Bender remarked.
"Bender, come on," Andrew flashed him a glare, "He's a human being after all." He looked over his girlfriend's shoulder. "Hmm, looks like he'll be at the same school with that girl on the other team that keeps looking over at him. Maybe..."
"Forget it, Clark," Bender interrupted yet again, "You know Johnson's incapable of holding a relationship with..."
"Now what's going on?" Claire came hustling over, having taken a trip to the restroom in the intervening period.
"Nothing, except they're trying to make a last ditch comeback that can't possibly work given how deep a hole they dug themselves in," the criminal coolly explained, starting to look totally bored now, "I can't see why we don't just bail now; there's no..."
"We promised Brian we'd stay to the absolute end," Allison said firmly. She turned her gaze back to the program. "Half of them on both sides seem to go be going out of state," she commented, "The funny thing is, I thought for years I'd love nothing better to move as far away from here as I could once I graduated myself, but I ended up committing to Loyola because, well, I just felt I'd be more comfortable there. I know I have to face the world outside Chicago eventually, but sometimes it just seems so..."
"Overbearing, yeah," Andrew nodded, "I had some doubts about committing to Iowa State myself, but their offer was too good to pass up; besides, my family wanted it, with how nationally renowned their wrestling program is."
"I wish we'd met earlier; maybe I would have looked for somewhere out there to go," his girlfriend shook her head sadly.
"You can always come out to visit on weekends if you have the time," he assured her, "And I'll be back in town for the holidays, and the first few weekends. Yep, much as it's time to face the world, it'll be a little hard to let go of Shermer."
"Not for me; I want to get as far away from here as possible," Claire countered, "Probably I'll transfer somewhere south or west after the first semester to wherever has the best design program; right now I'm just too close to..."
Her attention was caught by a series of claps from more than a few people seated nearby. She turned and almost fell over when she saw the scoreboard. "Oh my God, they've closed the gap to ten points!" she exclaimed, pointing, "It's not over yet!"
"I say it's still a futile last-gasp effort," Bender still wasn't buying it, but even he looked surprised at the abrupt turn of events.
"Maybe not," Andrew stared at the Lake Forest Central table, "They're looking scared now. If we're going to win this, I'd say we've got them right where we want them right now."
Brian's confidence level was rapidly going up again-although not quite enough yet to defeat the nervousness, which was kept alive by every glance at the clock, now closing in on exactly two minutes to go. But the impossible dream was still alive, and another sideways glance showed the Lake Forest Central team was in total shock that such an insurmountable lead as the one they'd had at the start of the round had all but evaporated in a matter of three minutes. Thus, half of them seemed to not be paying attention as Professor Gotch continued with the next question: "...previously known as East Pakistan, this country gained independence in 1971." None of them made an immediate jump for the button once he'd finished, giving Brian a chance to successfully ring in himself. "Bangladesh," he proclaimed, knowing he'd gotten his fifth right answer of the round. He glanced down at the front row. Now his parents were definitely smiling for real. Just two more right answers, he told himself, staring next at the scoreboard-now 61-56 in Lake Forest Central's favor-and the clock-a minute and forty-five seconds to go. And now his teammates seemed energized themselves, as if they now all believed it was possible they could pull off the improbable. They hunched over their buzzers as Gotch continued: "This brown African bird is well-known for its giant nest, which can support a man's weight."
Brian admittedly didn't know this one, and Josh, who apparently did, was beaten to the draw by Melissa on the other side. "the hamerkop," she answered, looking calmer than her teammates, as if the situation didn't faze her as much as it did them. Despite now falling two answers behind again, Brian still managed a small smile; it was good that she got more chances to answer herself.
"Correct. In history: this pirate was popularly called the 'gentleman pirate' owing to his status as a wealthy landowner before turning to robbery on the high seas."
Jeffrey was the first one to hit the buzzer this time. "Charles Vane?" he guessed, but Brian could see the severe doubt on his face, as if he knew he was about to goof up again.
"Incorrect," Gotch shook his head, "Shermer team?"
Corey rang the buzzer as hard as he could. "Stede Bonnet," he all but shouted, looking ready to jump out of his seat in delight.
"Correct. I'm sorry, you can't call a time out," Gotch informed the Lake Forest Central team, frantically trying to signal that they wanted one. Brian tried to keep his composure amid the euphoria he was now feeling; a minute twenty left, tie game now...
"Halley's Comet famously appeared over this decisive ancient battle."
It was Melissa again stepping up for her teammates on the other side. "Hastings," she whispered into the mike.
"Correct. In mythology, Eurydice was the wife of this lyre player, who traveled to the underworld in an ultimately unsuccessful attempt to bring her back."
Lori was first this time. "Orpheus," she spoke up after Brian handed her the mike.
"Correct, one minute to go," Gotch announced. The audience was now murmuring loudly; the finals, Brian knew, hadn't been this exciting for years. Even Mr. Vernon wasn't scowling now, he saw (although he wasn't exactly smiling either, his expression more neutral than anything-although with the superintendent, that was usually as good as a smile most of the time). "We're going to do it," he told himself deep down, feeling very confident now. Lake Forest Central was reeling; it was only a matter of time before they toppled...
"...in film, this 1925 Sergei Eisenstein classic recalls the famous uprising on this Russian battleship."
This time Jeffrey was first again. "Battleship Potemkin," he spit out, looking relieved.
"Correct." the moderator nodded. Brian sighed in frustration; couldn't they just give up? He looked again to the scoreboard: 71-66, forty-seven seconds left...
"Meteorology; male names were first given to Atlantic hurricanes in this year."
Josh hit it first. "1979?" he spoke up, not looking completely sure.
"Correct," Gotch nodded. Josh breathed a huge sigh of relief, as did Brian. 71-71, thirty-three seconds left...
"Religion: the creative being of this ancient religion is Ahura Mazda."
One of the Lake Forest Central players was first now. "Uh, Shin...no, uh...wait..."
"Five seconds," Gotch warned him.
"Uh...Zoroastrianism, yeah."
"Correct." 76-71, sixteen seconds left...
"In athletics: the highest branch of the minor leagues, Triple A baseball is currently comprised of these two leagues."
Matt beat out Jeffrey to the buzzer. "The International League and the Pacific Coast League," he proclaimed, clearly enjoying himself now.
"Correct." 76-76 now, about eight and a half seconds to go. Brian's heart couldn't take much more of the suspense...
"In chemistry: named for the inventor of the periodic table, this radioactive element is labeled as atomic number 101."
Brian jammed both thumbs down on the signaling button; the periodic table had long been his specialty. He was ecstatic to see his buzzer light up. His heart leaped in delight as he gestured for the microphone. The dream was going to come true, Shermer was about to win it all, and he was going to be the hero. He seized the mike, turned to the audience, with hundreds of eyes now staring right at him...
...when, perhaps because of this, his mind abruptly went blank. The answer, on the tip of his tongue mere milliseconds ago, now was buried under a blank slate of confusion. He strained to remember, but no sooner had he than he heard, seemingly in slow motion, the buzzer ring to end the game. "I'm sorry, too much time was taken," came Professor Gotch's voice, also in slow motion, "The correct answer was mendelevium. That will be a five point penalty for being unable to answer, and that is the end of the match; winner and still champion..."
The microphone slipped from Brian's hand to the table. His lip was quivering now, but he found himself unable to move any other part of his body. No, it didn't happen, he thought desperately, horror overtaking him, it couldn't have just happened that way...!
But there was no way to deny it, emphasized by the loud cheers from the Lake Forest Central fans in the audience, and the claps as his opponents exchanged celebratory high fives. And he knew in the pit of his stomach there was no escaping it. The dream was dead as just as quickly as it had seemed possible. Shermer had lost just as it was about to win.
And it was all his fault...
He was too numb to bother turning when he heard a now furious Corey shouting in his ear. "...the hell's the matter with you!?" the team captain was berating him, "We had them right where we wanted them; we had them! Why the hell couldn't you keep your fingers off the buzzer if you weren't going to answer!? Well!?"
"Corey, stop, you're not helping him!" came Matt's desperate plea. "Brian, listen to me, it just wasn't meant to be!" he pulled his friend's head to the side, panic on his face as Brian registered him. Matt grimaced as Corey picked up his chair and slammed it to the floor in frustration with a loud crack before continuing to plead, "Please, just trust me on this, it wasn't meant to be!"
But Brian wasn't paying attention. He couldn't take his eyes off his family in the front row. He'd failed them, he knew, his heart sinking right to his ankles; there was no mistaking the look of absolute disappointment on his parents' faces as they shook their heads in resignation, while Mary merely smiled in savage triumph. He'd done it now; he'd just killed any chance that they'd ever be able to love him again. One mistake had ruined everything...
And if all this wasn't bad enough, Vernon now stood over him. Completely apoplectic, the superintendent was screaming at him at the top of his lungs, but Brian was too caught up in his own thoughts to hear much except small snippets, even when Vernon suddenly shoved him hard back into his seat and screamed phrases including, "LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU...CHOKE ARTIST...DISGRACE TO OUR SYSTEM...EMBARRASSED ME AND EMBARRASSED ALL OF SHERMER...WHY I EVER LISTENED TO MR. JACOBSON ON LETTING YOU STAY ON THIS TEAM...SHOULD HAVE GIVEN YOU THE GUN BACK AND LET YOU FINISH THE JOB...!" right in his face. Why no one was stopping him from shouting such things out loud, Brian didn't know. But he didn't care, because deep down he knew Vernon was right: he HAD just disgraced the school and the whole town, as well as everything about himself.
And in that very instant, he knew exactly what he had to do...
But it had to be done alone, far away from anyone who'd want to stop him. He found himself slowly inching backwards and sideways towards the wings. The trophies would be handed out in a few minutes, but he had no intention of staying; after this, he didn't deserve any trophy. The Shermer team was starting to regroup by Mr. Jacobson, who was trying to push a still angry Vernon off the stage, disappointment clearly visible on their faces. He'd gotten their hopes up for nothing, he thought sadly; he didn't deserve their forgiveness even if they could somehow manage it. He reached the edge of the stage and waited for the split second none of them were watching him, then checked to make sure his family wasn't watching in the front row either. Then he turned and bolted as fast as he could off stage. Blindly, he ran up down the stairs and up the hallway, trying to find the nearest exit, wiping the tears out of his eyes as best he could while knowing he couldn't stop them and didn't want to stop them. Finally a door came into sight. He pushed it open, nearly knocking over a janitor entering the building. "Watch it, kid!" he snarled at the boy. Brian paid him no heed. He glanced up and down the streets, now covered with a light dusting of snow, which was falling rather heavily now that the temperature had dropped low enough for it. No sign of any buses, which was disappointing, for a bus could end it very quickly. A taxi was approaching near the curb, however, and it could at least take him reasonably far away before anyone could stop him, and give him time to formulate a backup plan. He flagged it down with wild arm gestures. "Take me as far as this'll cover; it doesn't matter which direction," he instructed the driver quickly, thrusting forty dollars at him.
"You OK there, kid?" the driver took the money, but looked concerned.
"I'm fine, now please, just go!" Brian shouted at him. He jumped into the back of the cab, ignoring the sound of the convention center door slamming open behind him, and Matt's terrified shout of, "BRIAN, NO, DON'T!" He lowered his head as the cab drove off, seconds before a frantic Matt could grab hold of the taxi's door, and broke down completely; the pain of the horrible failure was just too much to otherwise bear. If only the gun hadn't gone off in the locker and exposed his earlier attempt at ending it to everyone, he thought furiously; then Shermer would have won the tournament easily, without him hindering the rest of the team. After all, they'd all earned their places, unlike him. But at least it wasn't too late to finish what he'd planned, even if it couldn't be with a gun. There were plenty of other ways to finish the job; he just had to find the most convenient one...