You Must Remember This

Chapter 26: The Syndicate

"And what do you think of this, Juliet?" Juliet looked at the three people staring at her and suddenly composed herself.

"I cannot help it if my classmates struggle with fine motor control. It is my responsibility as a good person to help them grow up."

"Well, that settles it!" Ted declared, and he returned to his work, being exceedingly careful to maintain a firm grip on his pen. Alan wasn't quite done playing, but he thought the joke must have grown old if Ted stopped. Near the end of the period, Juliet accidentally dropped her pen, and neither Alan nor Ted dared to pick it up.

Jason's struggles with group work had persisted into the present, especially when people like John tested his patience. Jason was initially ecstatic to be paired with John on their research paper—wasn't John the kid who thought deeply, who always considered alternate points of view? Those may have been true, but John, as it turns out, was also the kid who still struggled with apostrophes, who thought MLA format had something to do with getting a MBA, and who could spend hours staring at a blank document "composing his thoughts" until he hesitantly typed a sentence or two. Any attempts to get John to hurry up were met with silence, and if Jason pushed too aggressively, John would raise his voice and declare Jason could do the entire thing himself then if he was going to be such a taskmaster.

Perhaps if John were looking more closely at Jason's work, he would have objected to the hammer and sickles used as bullet points or the faint outline of Stalin on every page. Mr. Simon noticed, and discreetly called Jason to his desk.

"Jason, where do I begin? All teachers, including myself, signed an oath—a great loyalty oath—to protect the school against communism. And what do you do? You've ruined it all."

"It's just a joke, Mr. Simon. There's nothing to it."

"I'm not finished, Jason. Don't interrupt me. History is in a manner a sacred thing, so far as it contains truth. Those who do not study it are doomed to repeat it. Don't think I haven't noticed the robotics posters modeled after Mao or all the other communist activities you've done. I won't stand for it. I don't want to escalate this, Jason, but I will if I have to. Are we clear on that front?"

"If we're going to defend such American values as fidelity and honesty, I think that line was crossed as soon as Mr. Kurtz approved the celery juice scheme. I can see where you're coming from, Mr. Simon, but I think you're enforcing a double standard here."

"No, there's a difference: anyone above me is perfectly free to enforce whichever policies they want. I may disagree with them, but there's nothing I can do about it. My classroom is my empire, and if I wished to begin every class with the Soviet national anthem, it would take Mr. Kurtz himself walking in to stop me. The opposite holds true as well: fascism may have swept our school in a kid-friendly guise, but I am still entitled to just say no to communism. Capisce?" Jason grumbled, but went back to his desk, where John seemingly had not moved a muscle during his conversation. Jason decided to try a different tactic and use a bit of empathy:

"John, how are we doing?" John didn't stir.

"John, are you awake?" John blinked.

"John, can we finish this project?" John blinked twice. Jason gave up and went back to work.

By the end of the school day, popular perception had faded from the sheer absurdity of the entire affair to disgust at Alan and most especially the administration for using him as a pawn, and most even did not think much of that. Other notable affairs—an AP Bio test, an APUSH presentation, a ceramics project—took greater prominence in those who did not have personal involvement in the affair, as it was simply another hare-brained effort on the part of the administration to change its students. Unfortunately for Alan, the latter group was feeling particularly militant. Alan had by then learned to tell when he was being followed, and the group of about ten tall, beefy, angry kids following him from a fair distance did not leave much room for ambiguity in his mind. When his pace slowed, they returned to a walk; when he sped up, he heard their footsteps becoming loud and clear. Ms. Liu's classroom was thankfully open, and she was happy to see Alan until he meekly gestured outside; she connected the dots and ran to lock and barricade the door.