Chaffs

WE are the Dawn Patrol. We are the sons and daughters of America’s Fourth Great Awakening. We stand ready to fight for Our Nation against foreign invaders from without, and immorality and corruption from within. Our selves, our lives, our blood—these we pledge to the survival of our race and the future for our children.

“FAITH!

“FAMILY!

“FREEDOM!”

The lunch bell rang just as we finished the pledge. As the meeting adjourned and the auditorium emptied out, I hung back, looking for Kevin. I thought he might have snuck in late, but there was no sign of him.

“Tyler! Neighbor Treppenhouse!”

I jerked to attention as Billy Hanna marched up. He looked mad, though it was hard to tell with him. Our Troop Leader always looked like he had a pool cue up his butt, even when he was happy.

Billy snapped off a salute. “Where’s Kevin Sanders? He didn’t check in.”

“I haven’t seen Neighbor Sanders since homeroom, sir.”

“It’s not like him to miss a meeting.”

“No, sir. Maybe he forgot. His eighteenth birthday is tomorrow. That means—”

“Don’t make excuses for him. That Reclaimee ought to know better than to goof off, with his Evaluation tomorrow.” Billy took out a black-covered booklet and scribbled some notes in it. “Tell him to report to me before the next meeting on Friday—if he makes it to Friday. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Troop Leader.”

Another salute. “Nation First!”

“Nation F—”

Before I could finish, Billy pivoted on his heel and stomped off the way he came.

Instead of following the rest of the troop to the cafeteria, I took a detour to my locker, next to Kevin’s in Building C. It was pouring rain, so I took the long way around the quad to stay dry. Given Billy’s mood at the meeting, he’d put me on report for sure if I got my uniform soaked.

Sure enough, Kevin was there. Shelly Dobbs was with him—the two had been dating for almost a year. She coaxed a kiss out of him, then spun around as I walked up.

“Hey, Tyler. I’ll see you at lunch. Could you please tell your friend here that if he doesn’t climb out of this hole he’s in, in time for his birthday, he’s not getting his special present? I’ve been waiting a long time to give it to him.”

The lustful edge in her voice made me blush. She was so … forward. Shelly was overdue for another visit with the Morality Officer. My own girlfriend was much more reserved, thank the Lord.

Shelly skipped off. Kevin remained slumped against his locker. People were always saying we looked alike. I didn’t see the resemblance—yeah, we were the same height and our hair was the same brownish blond, like dry brush during fire season, but beyond that? Kevin’s slim physique looked nowhere near as good in uniform as my own muscular frame, though his intense blue eyes outshone my dull green, no question.

Right now, those eyes looked haunted, and he was all curled in on himself. He seemed a whole foot shorter, like he was twelve all over again.

“What’s with you, Kev?” I opened my locker and grabbed my books for the next three periods. “You missed Dawn Patrol.”

“I know, OK?” Kevin’s gaze stayed glued to the floor. “Shelly’s already given me grief for it.”

“Well, where were you? Billy Hanna’s on the warpath. You want to get put on report?”

“Fuck Billy Hanna.”

I almost dropped my books. Dawn Patrol members weren’t supposed to swear. At least not out loud.

“Maybe I’ll fail tomorrow and I’ll never have to kiss up to that little dweeb again,” Kevin said.

“Fail the Evaluation? You?”

“Just be glad you don’t have to go through it.”

He finally raised his eyes. His posture was still like a little kid’s, but his face—he looked worn out, like an old man.

“Wait. Kev, you’re not really worried, are you?” I slammed my locker door shut. “Dude, you’re going to ace that thing. You’re not some dirty Chaff—you’re the star of this school.”

“I’m still a Reclaimee.”

“A Reclaimee with the best grades in the whole senior class. Not to mention the best shortstop North Topanga High has ever had.” I clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Nobody cares about what your real parents did—you’ve proven your worth to the Nation, and everybody knows it. You’re practically indispensable.”

He scraped the floor a couple of times with the sole of one shoe, then straightened up. His lips fluttered into a smile. “My batting average is higher than yours, too.”

“That was last season. We’ll see who ends up on top this year, Sandman.”

By the time Kevin was done laughing, he was his old self again. He tossed his books in his locker and gave me a light slug on the arm. “Thanks, T. You always know what to say.” A pause. “You’re a really good friend, you know?”

For a second I was worried Kevin might try to hug me or something. But he just gave me a friendly shove toward the exit. “Let’s go before Brad eats all the Tater Tots.”

Normally, during lunch, the students spread out all over campus, but today the rain had forced everyone into the dim and moldy-smelling cafeteria. Even so, there was very little pushing. The enormous mural of Our Commander-in-Chief, President Harold Muldoon—with his toothy smile and emerald-green eyes that followed you around—kept us all in line.

Kevin and I gave the C-in-C a respectful nod as we walked by. You were supposed to salute, but that was hard to do while carrying a food tray.

“Hey, TNT! Sandman! Over here!”

It was Brad Nemechuk. He, some of the other players—Danny Magruder, Rick Nagy, Deke O’Beirne, nearly half this year’s Varsity starting lineup—and a couple of female hangers-on were shooing some ninth-graders off one of the prime tables. Shelly had already sat down. Kevin slid onto the bench next to her while I took an empty spot on the other side of the table.

As I opened my carton of milk, Brad flung down his bulk beside me. He straddled the bench, stretching one leg across the aisle so people had to step over him to get by.

“Man, I hate this monkey suit—it’s choking me to death.” He tugged on the collar of his Dawn Patrol uniform, then pulled his lunch toward him—a plate piled high with Tater Tots, and nothing else. “You guys gonna watch the executions tonight?”

I paused with my milk carton raised halfway to my lips. “They’re showing them on TV again? My dad said they’d been canceled. The ratings were too low.”

“This one’s a big deal. Some beaners in Texas—tried to blow up the Alamo, or something.”

At least I wouldn’t have to watch them. Dad had given up trying to make me. My little brother Eric ate up every second—the trials, the executions, even the commentary after-ward—but when I was his age they just made me ill. Dad used to tell me I was too squeamish and needed toughening up. Like I couldn’t hate terrorists and criminals enough until I enjoyed watching them die.

I snuck a quick glance at the ceiling. There was a Hawkeye right above the table—a shiny black sphere, staring down at us. Staring and listening. Not that I was about to do or say anything wrong, of course.

“I’m not going to see the executions.” I took a gulp of milk. “Unity’s coming over tonight. To study.”

“To study, huh?” Brad popped a Tater Tot in his mouth and then leered. He turned the leer on some passing girls, who pulled in their elbows and hastened away from him. “Geez, TNT, when are you gonna start around the bases with her? Have you even stepped up to the plate yet?”

I felt a dryness in my mouth. I clucked my tongue to conceal it. “Why don’t you mind your own business, dude?”

“Seriously, you’ve got me worried. You and Unity have been going out for how long? Six months, nine months, and you haven’t gotten any yet? People are gonna start thinking you’re queer.”

The dryness was spreading down my throat. I swallowed.

Shelly rolled her eyes. “Oh, lay off him, Brad. He’s just being a gentlemen. Some girls like that.”

“Do you?”

I thought Shelly was going to rip Brad’s face off. But she just smiled and hooked her arm around Kevin’s. “What do you think?”

She and Kevin made lovey-dovey eyes at each other. Brad responded with gagging noises. I just kept on squirming. I hated it when Kevin and Shelly got all kissy-face like that, though at least it had gotten Brad off my back.

“I won’t be watching the executions either.” Kevin looked away from Shelly and let his gaze drop to the tray in front of him. “I need to try and get some sleep tonight. Tomorrow I’ve got my, um … ”

“Oh yeah. Your Evaluation.” Brad picked up another Tater Tot and held it between his thumb and forefinger, aiming it at Kevin like a bullet. “You’d better pass, Sandman....