Eliot Strange and the Prince of the People

21) Middle School All Over Again

The scene, as we approach, reminds me of a bus stop, a middle school bus stop, full of bravado, loud talking, cuss words, rough-housing, and the occasional girl chased, but never completely caught. The group looks like they are guarding the town from something coming in or out. These boys have weapons, but most are carrying BB guns. I see one slingshot. The boy carrying the sling shot target practices on the sign, but he hasn't hit it yet. If I had to bet, I would bet all the kids, especially the boys, have a pocketknife too as this is a prerequisite for being a boy in the South.

They are loud, just like Gus said before, but we judge them to be safe and approach.

"Halt," says a girl loudly in a tone that sounds more threatening than what appears before us. All the bored kids gather around like they are guarding the sign, and the same girl says, "Who goes there?"

I almost laugh, and Gus smiles his beaming smile like he can barely hold it in himself.

"Who are you?" I ask right back.

I guess they can't decide who is in charge because another boy says, "You first."

"I'm Eliot, I live here, I'm from Mount Airy. I go to East Central High School, or did. And this is my friend..." I pause and look at Gus and wonder what I should tell them about him. Who is he today? I say, "This is Gus." Before I add more, Gus adds in an American accent:

"I'm Gus, I live here too. I work at the Farmers Bank." I notice the logo behind on the city limit sign. Gus is a quick thinker and a good liar.

"Damn, Farmers Bank," says a small boy. "They wouldn't give my granny her life savings so she could run away. Fuck you and Fuck Farmers Bank."

Apparently, this is a common sentiment as several kids spit at Gus's feet in protest. I remember those early days of the end when people still thought cold, hard cash would save the day. So long ago, but people, even kids, don't quickly forget an institution that wronged their granny.

Gus spits too and says, "Fuck Farmers. Damn, assholes fired me. Wouldn't give me my money either."

Ok, Gus is a liar, but he is good, very good. I think the cuss words help because these kids are mostly middle school age. We are speaking their language.

"Screw Farmers Bank," I add too. "Damn terrorists," I throw in for good measure. I try to continue the introductions. "Who are you guys?"

The first girl who speaks gives no name but says, "We are mostly from the city, middle school, but we have a few from other schools." Those kids do a quick nod our way.

So far this hasn't been the friendliest exchange. I see a pick up parked behind the sign. I cut to the chase. "Do you guys have any gas?"

The kids look at each other and laugh, "If we had any gas to spare, you think we'd be in this shithole," the girl says.

Gus is obviously amused at their cockiness and accepts the challenge of who is the coolest kid on the block. "So," Gus says. "Can you guys drive? Do you have a car?"

"Some of us grew up on a farm," says a boy with long hair, two pierced ears, and a hopefully fake tattoo of a bird in flight above his eyebrow. I am guessing it was not him that grew up on the farm. "We can drive."

"So why are you here?" I ask because I am still trying to play nice. "It almost looks like you are guarding the town."

"We were," says the girl and then as if she is afraid to say this part out loud, she leans in and lowers her voice. "One Nation has already been here. There was a battle."

"I don't remember you being here before," I say. "And I have traveled this road several times."

"We were hiding," says a tiny girl. "Somewheres else."