Why did I get stuck with this shitty assignment? Everyone else in the Kennedy Assassination Recreation Poetry Session gets something cool, I have to study the grass. It's this stunted little hill, no where near the depository, or the car, or anything. I just get to "watch the blades flow". What bullshit.
I think the teacher just hates me. Once she gave out all our assignments, I even tried to argue with her. I'd take the tires, the ties, the windshield, anything but the fucking grass. But she just shuffled us into the taxis. And that asshole wasn't any better. I knew he wouldn't be, since the district is very strict with the reimbursement they give taxi drivers for field trips – every inch has already been measured, so any change off the direct path gets taken straight out of the taxi driver's pocket. Now I've got an hour camped at a patch of grass until he comes back "watching the leaves" or some shit, and plus there's a gang war or something going on right on the other side of the hill from me, and all the gunshots and screaming and crap are making it really hard to concentrate. All the pops and splats in the dirt around me – I don't know how I can write about something if it won't sit still and everyone won't shut up for ten seconds! I bet everyone else is already done with their verses, and the poem is going to be great and epic, and no one gives a shit that I'm not done, because no one's going to care about how the fucking grass was blowing when the president was shot anyway, and besides our teacher wasn't there so how can she know if we're getting it right anyway, so this is all a fucking waste of time and goddamn it now this guy wants to cut my head off.
"NEXVAOCHUTNEH SAPASTA DIOSMIOZ"
BANG!
Fuck, now he's bled all over me from his fucking shot and I have to change when I get home. And his body's bleeding on the fucking grass! Oh shit! Get off get off getoffgetoffgetoffshithe's heavy!
"DON'T TOUCH HIM!!"
"What? Why?"
"He might not be dead. Hold on."
There's a guy walking up with a giant sniper rifle. Great, just what I need.
"Are you okay?"
"What?"
"Are you okay?"
"Why do you care?"
He's looking at me with this shit eating grin, and then he looks away and starts rolling the body around.
"What are you doing?"
"Checking the body."
"For what?"
"Anything he doesn't need right now."
"What are you doing out here?"
"Shooting ugly strangers, and striking up conversations with the cute, cranky ones."
"You shot this guy because he was ugly."
"No, because he was going to hurt you, but you're not the type to believe in good deeds for the sake of good deeds, so I thought you'd buy that."
"And how do you know that?"
Just the same shit eating grin.
"I'm not cranky."
"Hmm. Are you always this suspicious after someone saves your life?"
"Who saved my life?"
"Aww, cute AND oblivious. This is a good day for me."
"I'm not oblivious!"
"But you know you're cute, right?"
Just the same shit eating grin. I think I'm blushing.
"Good. Then not that oblivious. There's hope for you yet."
He's looking at me. I have to say something.
"What were you doing out here?"
"Saving lives."
"Saving lives?"
"Yup."
"With your gun."
"Yup."
"I don't think guns work like that."
"Mine does. Worked for you, didn't it? What are YOU doing out here, withOUT a gun, is a better question."
"I don't want to say...it's dumb."
He's giggling..."I can guess."
"You'd never guess."
"You're down from the UNIVERSEITY, aren't you?"
Holy crap. "How did you know?"
"And I bet you're here for a Poetical Recreation Assignment."
Jesus..."Yeah...the, the Kennedy..."
"...assassination. I know. I took the class...before. You're each assigned at part of the scene, and you're supposed to make 'the whole feeling' again."
"That's right!"
"Yeah. Seem pretty dumb to you?"
"Uh...actually I was just thinking that, before you saved me."
"Yeah, I thought so too."
"Yeah, I'm not really sure what I'm doing out here."
He laughs. Really loudly. I worry for a second that someone else with a gun will spot us, but it doesn't seem to be bugging him, which gets me really mad.
"Stop laughing so much! It's not funny."
"No, I'm sorry, it is."
"Shut up!"
"No! No, no. Hold on."
He's holding my shoulder now.
"Hold on. Lay on the grass for a second. We'll be safer. The hill will cover us, and I'll tell you exactly why you're out here."
"Cause I've got this shitty assignment."
"Shut up. Lay down. I'll tell you a story."
I know I'll see the taxi coming either way, and it would drown out the shots and screams a little, so I guess I could lay down. We're on our sides, but not too close, since he has his rifle in his arms the whole time.
"About a year ago, I was in this class. We were doing the battle of Thermopylae. The 300 Spartans?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I had the shields. The solid bronze circles. And I studied them, held one, saw the pictures...I knew everything about them. So when it came time to write my parts of the stanzas...I was stunted. I couldn't say anything. What the fuck do you say about a round chunk of metal, you know?"
He's looking at me. I don't know what to say. His eyes are really intense.
"I thought and thought. I looked at my shield. I hit it. I tried lifting and holding it, like they did. I even bit the damn thing. Nothing was coming. Just thinking stupid enough, I tilted the edge up a little and snuck underneath it, like the shitty little untalented turtle I fucking was. I just fucking moped. My legs were sticking out, but I didn't care. I looked as stupid as I felt".
I'm starting to giggle. I can't stop, maybe he'll be mad I'm laughing at him! And now that's making me laugh even more!
"Oh, so it can laugh. That's good."
"I'm sorry. I just imagined what you looked like."
"Yeah, don't worry. I DID look stupid. But it's important to the story, so I'll let it slide."
That grin.
"So there I was sitting in the dark. And I was thinking. I was on my back, looking up at the backend of the shield, and I closed my eyes. And I saw a whole field of shields. Like a corn field, but shining bronze. And then I saw the Spartans behind the shields. In my head, they were just there. They all looked the same, all dressed the same, all the same faces...and the camera in my head pulled back, and they were everywhere. And I got it. I saw what the shield was About. And the point was, was that the shield was pointless. One shield, like the one I had, any of the shields, they were all useless fucking pieces of metal. It was the wall of them that was the point. That one shield is useless without the shield next to it, and on and on. And the shield is nothing with out the people. And then you see the field, and then the enemy, and then the trees, and the whole thing on and on, and you realize it's the whole fucking scene...a thousand people defending each other, from another thousand people attacking them, and anyone sitting by and just writing about it is a waste of room and just in the way. In the way of something that's Actually Happening right in front of them.
"And the Spartan's were defending each other. They were working for protection, with these shields. And this was thousands of years ago. And here I was, being shown up by a bunch of dead guys. I thought, 'Anything they can do, I can do better', right? Especially since my fucking skin is still holding my organs in, to put it mildly. So I actually dropped out, to give you the shorter version of boring events, got this gun, and I've been doing what I did, ever since."
"So that guy?"
"Was an asshole who's been killing other assholes. I've been watching that show on the other side of the hill for a while. Think of me as a referee who keeps the audience safe from the game. If the players want to bash each other's skulls in all day, that's certainly not my business. You just looked like you were about to be dragged into it in a bad way, so I did something. 'Penalty! Red Flag'.
That shit eating grin again.
"Get it?"
"I guess. The shield made you want to be a hero?"
"The shield made me want to be not-boring. Being a hero is largely a matter of which side of said hero's heroicalism you're on. You can ask these guys how much they enjoy my company. Shit, the high-blood pressure I give them is just about the only thing they can agree on. It's just fun enough for me, right now.
"Speaking of which, I'm going to get going. Nice talking to you..."
Oh. My name. He wants my name.
"Uh...Alexa."
"Alexa. Nice. 'One without law'".
"What?"
"Your name. In Latin, it means, 'One without law'. As in, 'One who the rules doesn't apply to.'"
I think I'm blushing again. That shit eating grin.
"You should try it sometime. It's fun."
He hides behind the hill for a second, and checks for a clearing. He's running off to some trees.
"Th...THANK YOU!"
He turns around, yells "Whoo Hoo!" at me, grins again while sticking his tongue out at me, and then turns and keeps running.
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