SU BAILEY<br/><br/><strong><em>"All teachers, this is Principal Carlson. Would you all be so kind as to pick up your classroom telephones, I have an urgent announcement for the faculty."</em></strong>At the announcement everyone in class looked up from their work, calculators and pens were forgotten, algebra became unimportant. This was interesting. This was important.<em>This was newsworthy.</em><br/><br/>I caught Anne's questioned look from the next desk over.<br/><br/><em>"What's going on?"</em>her mouth silently formed the question on everyone's lips. I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders, the only response each of us had.<br/><br/>The school PA system was used often, usually to announce class bells, call certain teachers or students to interviews (the latter being particularly ominous and often being restricted to a well known corps of limited names) or during events to pipe muzak. Rarely, if ever, had I heard it used to ask the faculty members to all pick up their phones,<em>in class</em>.<br/><br/>That meant<em>important</em>. That meant<em>very urgent</em>.<br/><br/>Vice-Principal Pinkerton cast a wary look around the class but said nothing. He picked up his phone as requested. The look on his face mirrored our own. He too knew nothing about this. This was no drill. Whatever was happening, was happening for real.<br/><br/>It was cool.<br/><br/>Thirty one faces fixed on Pinkerton for twenty seconds while presumably Principal Carlson imparted the information that had caused this unusual interruption.<br/><br/>"Yes, Principal. Yes. Yes, I understand."<br/><br/>He replaced the handset and stood up extending his arms forward palms down in a calming gesture.<br/><br/>"Alright ladies and gentlemen, quiet please and stay calm." The hubbub of whispered alarm subsided. "That was the Principal. It would seem that the rioting on the west side of the city has become worse and in compliance with state regulations the school may need to be evacuated. Right now that's not yet been decided but as a precaution we are halting all classes and I'd like all students to assemble at once in the main auditorium. I'll pass out further information to you when we get there."<br/><br/>The sound of voices rose, chairs scraped and I looked around in mild alarm. There was this thin skin of panic over things, it was really exciting! No more classes? Evacuating school? My thoughts went immediately to Steve. If the school used the bus fleet to get us out no way was I going to be herded around like a damn sheep. I'd break away and get across to the baseball pitch and go under my own steam.<br/><br/>"Alright, alright, please keep the noise down. Quiet please!" Pinkerton raised his voice. That in itself was enough to make the 'back of class' boys even rowdier. Someone threw a ball of paper.<br/><br/>"Please do not go to your lockers or delay to get personal items. Go straight to the auditorium. Your home room teachers will call registration there. That's all. AND DON'T RUN!" he yelled in closing as there was a general push for the exits.<br/><br/>Anne and Katie stuck with me and Katie's boyfriend Todd. Two other girls in our crowd, Mel Sheenan and Syeda Patel bumped into us in the corridor as they came out of their American history class next door. In an excited gaggle we moved with everyone else to the auditorium...<br/><br/>* * * *<br/><br/>An hour later the entire school it would seem was seated on the rows of hard uncomfortable plastic clip-row seats and the darkened auditorium watched<em>"The Hangover."</em>Whoever chose the film had done well, quite a few people were laughing and being distracted, however I noticed from time to time faculty members entering and leaving the auditorium, trying to remain hushed but failing. At one point I swear I saw Principal Carlson go by as one of the staff held the door open to check something outside.<em>And Carlson had a cop with him.</em><br/><br/>Alright! Now this was exciting!<br/><br/>At several points the unmistakable wail of police sirens went by outside.<br/><br/>I turned to Mel and Katie. Mel's guy Rick Tukefield was there too. Anne and Syeda were elsewhere with their class.<strong>"If something bad happens, I'm out of here. To my car. No way will I leave the Mustang behind and no way will I be herded like cattle on a bus and not be able to make my own decisions. You guys with me?"</strong>They all nodded.<br/><br/>"Todd's got his Subaru up by the field house," Katie said, texting him as she spoke, "He'll join us and we'll follow you."<br/><br/>"Hey. Listen to this!" Mel had her iPod Nano out. She had a Y-splitter for two sets of headphones and the four of us stuffed a single bud in one ear. Over the radio came updated accounts of the rioting. It sounded bad. Apparently there had been police casualties and the crowd were so well organised that tear gas wasn't subduing them. I didn't get that at all. Tear gas always sent those good-for-nothing bums home. Apparently some SWAT Teams had turned up and were now firing rubber bullets. An armoured car was using a water cannon. Then suddenly over the radio which was a live on-site report there was a lot of shouting and a panicking man's voice nearby yelling "Get off me! Get the fuck off me!" This was followed by the unmistakeable sound of a gun being fired. Not the soft<em>thopp, thopp</em>of rubber bullets but a real gun, a sharp cracking; one, two, three, four shots. Then a louder<em>boom</em>of what sounded like a shotgun. Then all hell broke loose and there was yelling and unknown noises. Presumably the radio crew getting the heck out of there.<br/><br/>The four of us stared open-mouthed at each other. Outside the faint<em>pok, pok, pok</em>of gunfire no longer needed a radio broadcast to reach our ears.<br/><br/>"Christ," said Rick, "This is bad."