Cheating Death

Chapter Five:

Reagan pressed his ear up against the door.  It was now seven o'clock: time to announce who had been picked.  He already knew that he was going to be picked for the finals, but he couldn't help but open his door and make his way down the hallway to the living room.

His mother was sitting farthest away from him and seemed to be in a stupor.  He decided he might as well join her, but he made it a point to sit at the armrest opposite her own.  She didn't glance his way at all, but kept her eyes glued to the TV.

He heard the announcer's cheery voice, the same voice that announced last year's finals, and he frowned.  He thought he would be ready to hear that voice again, but he couldn't bear it.  The memory of Amber on this same couch crying her eyes out on his shoulder... him telling her that it would be alright...

"Welcome," the announcer's voice boomed over the wild crowd, "to the annual Survive or Die games!"  She hushed the crowd with her hands as the camera moved in to spotlight her.  Her icy eyes gleamed with all the lights on her and Reagan shuttered.  His mother glanced over quickly and just as quickly looked away.

The announcer began again, "This year's State Finals are as follows..." she began listing off names that Reagan had never heard before.  He shook his head and knew he would be the only one from his neighborhood.

Suddenly a name caught his attention and he looked up at the TV.  Emily.  They had called Emily's name.  Why had they called Emily's name?  She didn't tell him that she was entering...

Reagan's thoughts stopped as he processed a new sound.  He stiffly looked over at his mother and saw that she was crying.  His heart softened and he moved over to her.  "It's okay, mother.  Everything will be okay."

He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed with all his might while his mother let uncontrollable sobs come from her mouth.  Of course he didn't really know that everything would be okay, but he hoped it would be.

They sat there until the program ended and then his mother regained her strength and pulled away.  "I'm sorry," she whispered.  "I don't know what came over me."

She got up and breezily left the room, leaving Reagan alone on the couch.  He shook his head and went back to his room.

***

"What do you want, Peter?" Claire asked, exasperated.  Peter laughed on the other side of the phone and then got down to the business.

"You didn't tell them.  I can tell by your voice," he replied.  How did he know that?

"Of course I did.  They were shocked like you said, but now they're over it.  At least they should be," Claire snapped.  Peter hadn't left her alone for the past few days and it was really getting on her nerves.  She put a hand to her forehead and began to massage it.

"Don't lie to me Claire," Peter replied just as harshly.  "I'm going to tell them if you don't."

"I told them already," Claire insisted.  Peter scoffed on the other side.

"Oh, so it doesn't matter if I call then, would it?"

Claire's mind whizzed through the possibilities and then frowned.  "Why would you do that?"

"Ah-hah!  You haven't told them yet," Peter screamed into the phone.  Claire pulled it away from her ear and barely heard the next lines.  "I'm calling them now!  Bye Claire!"

"No!" she protested, but it was too late.  The phone went dead before she could get a word into it.  Claire's heart began to pound when she heard the phone downstairs starting to ring.  She raced to the door and flung it open.

"I'll get it!" she called.  She could hear footsteps going toward the phone and she started quickly down the steps.  "I'll get it!"

She pushed past her mother and grabbed the phone from the hook.  "Hello?" she asked frantically.  Peter started laughing from the other side and Claire glared at the phone.

"You are ridiculous!" Peter said through bursts of laughter.  Claire's cheeks went red as she continued to glare at the phone.

"I'm sorry," she said into the receiver, "but you have the wrong number."

She hung up and stormed away from the phone.  Her mother raised an eyebrow at Claire's hostility and then shrugged.  Claire ran up the stairs and shook her head.  He had made a fool out of her and just wanted to hear how mad she was going to get.  He wasn't really going to tell her parents at all!

Claire shut the door behind her and flopped onto her bed.  "Boys," she muttered through her blankets.  "I could hate everyone of them..."

The day went faster than Claire expected and soon it was time to gather around the TV to watch the finals.  Her sister, Randie, sat in the corner playing with her toys while her father sat next to Claire on the couch.  Her mother came in with a glass of expensive wine and smiled at the TV.

"It's pitiful to see the poor forced into this kind of thing.  I almost feel sorry for them all," she laughed and leaned on the couch.

The TV announcer came onto the stage and waved at everyone in the stadium.  "Welcome to the annual Survive or Die games!"  You could hear the crowd in the background going wild and Claire shuttered.  She had been in that crowd just last year, and now she was trying to hold back tears.

"Mom," Claire whispered.  "There's something I should tell you..."

Her mother ignored her and kept smiling at the TV.  The announcer began listing off the names and Claire felt an overwhelming need to tell her family of her predicament.

"Mom..."

The announcer got closer and closer to her name and suddenly Claire couldn't keep it in any longer, "I accidentally put my name in The Jar!" she blurted just as the announcer said her name. 

The room went silent as her father turned off the TV.  Suddenly her mother's wine glass fell to the floor with a loud crash and the expensive wine went everywhere.  However, no one seemed to care.

Claire sat frozen on the couch and could feel all eyes on her.

"You what?" her mother finally asked with a small hint of hysteria in her voice.  "You put your name... in The Jar?"

Claire made herself nod.  Suddenly Randie's small voice rang out into the silenced room, "Clawre..." she whimpered.  "Clawre bad."

"No, Randie," her mother spoke this time.  "Claire isn't bad," she then turned her attention toward Claire.  "What do you mean you accidentally put your name in The Jar?"

"I didn't put it in... a man at the library did.  He seemed to be in desperate need of money," Claire explained.  "I was just joking around with my friends and then he took it from my hand.  I didn't do it on purpose!"

"Before we get in an uproar," her father began, rubbing his daughter's back, "let's think logical.  There is a high chance that Claire will not be picked for the Final Round.  We still have a small hope."

Claire's mother nodded.  "That's true..."

"But what if I am picked?" Claire asked in a small voice.  Her father looked at her tenderly.

"Then... you will be prepared," he answered simply.  Claire hugged him tightly.  Then, before she began to cry, she rushed up the stairs and to her room where she let the tears fall freely onto her pillow.