Crawford, Oregon

Chapter Nine: The Road Ahead

"And, when the Panama Canal was completed in 1914, that helped establish the United States as a global superpower." I set down my dry-erase marker and turned around to face my class full of students. "Any questions?"

I scanned through the sea of desks, only to find a handful of blank faces staring back at me. And those were the polite ones. Most of them just kept their heads down, some pretending to flip through their textbooks, while the others blatantly scrolled through their cell phones. Either way, none of them seemed to care enough to ask any questions. So, I just nodded and prepared to head back to my desk.

But, before I could take one single step, a hand shot up from the front of the room. I turned my head, only to find that this hand belonged to Miranda Banes, one of Crawford High's best and brightest students. In addition to having the top GPA in her class, Miranda was also the captain of the debate team, the president of the student government, and an active member of about half a dozen other clubs. However, this overachieving attitude got really old, really quick. And, while Miranda was a nice girl at heart, she often came off as being an annoying know-it-all. Which meant that, whatever question she had for me, was probably going to be a doozy.

I reluctantly pointed to her and sighed, "Yes, Miranda?"

"Well," she began in her high-pitched voice. "I was looking back over the textbook, and it says that the canal was used to promote a benevolent image. But, in your lecture, you said that they used the project to help seize control over Panama, which completely contradicts the notion of benevolence."

I raised an eyebrow and said, "Yeah... so?"

"So, which one's the right? Were they trying to play nice, or were they just trying to assert their dominance?" she asked.

"Both, actually," I replied. "Like most things in life, history is rarely as simple as we try to make it out to be. There's always a lot more going on beneath the surface, and things don't always turn out to be what they seem." I looked at her and shrugged, "Sometimes, you can never really know the truth about someone or something."

"That's the same thing you said when Justin asked you about conspiracy theories."

"Hey, I'm not saying that Lee Harvey Oswald was innocent. I'm just saying that there's a lot more to it than you think."

"Not according to the textbook."

"The textbook was written by a group of stuffy professors from a bunch of overpriced universities. They weren't there. They don't know what really happened."

"Oh, but you do?"

As a matter of fact, I did. But I couldn't let her know that. After everything I witnessed on that fateful day in 1963, I could never let anyone know.

I stammered, "Well, I, uh-"

However, before I could finish my half-baked lie, I was quite literally saved by the bell. As the shrill lunch bell chimed throughout the school, my students wasted no time gathering their belongings and rising from their desks. Then, like a pack of wild animals, they pushed and shoved against each other as they made a mad dash for the door. Perhaps they were just excited to go to lunch. Or perhaps they were just desperate to get out of my class. Either way, they all piled out into the hallway as quickly as they could. And, as the last of my students raced out into the hall, they slammed the door behind them, leaving me all alone in my empty classroom.

At first, I just stood there and shook my head. Then, I sauntered over to my desk and opened one of its drawers, only to pull out a large thermos and a plastic spoon. I clenched the spoon between my teeth as I swiftly unscrewed the lid, allowing the sweet scent of pig's blood gradually fill the air. Once the lid was off, I removed the spoon from my mouth and gripped it in my hand, fully prepared to delve into the delicious blood before me. But, as per usual, this one simple moment of solitude would meet an abrupt end.