Bayview Heights Trilogy (17 page)

“Johnny, what are you thinking?”

“Nothing.”

“Do you know something you want to tell
me?”

He shook his head. Clamping down on the
emotions that threatened, he stared at the woman whose faith and
trust he needed too much. Who could be turned against him, too
easily.

“You don’t know anything? Or you don’t want
to tell me anything?”

Years ago, Cassie had said to him,
Promise me just one thing. You won’t ever lie to me. Tell me to
mind my own business, or you don’t want to talk about something,
but never lie to me.

“I don’t want to tell you.”

She nodded. “All right. In any case, because
of what he’s noticed, Mr. Taylor is coming out publicly barring any
gang activity at Bayview.”

“Like?”

“The wearing of gang colors. Any other
paraphernalia.”

“Like my jacket.”

“You don’t wear that to school.”

“No.”

“Why do you still have it, anyway?”

It’s my security blanket
. Johnny
stood abruptly and stuck his hands in his jeans pockets. “It’s my
last connection to Zorro. He’s the only thing in my life that no
one can take away from me.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“Name something else. And don’t use yourself.
You could leave Bayview anytime. You could get married and your
husband could hate me.”

“Johnny, that’s stupid.”

“No, that’s reality.”

If possible, her eyes got bleaker. He’d never
seen her cry, but her eyes were bright today, and bloodshot. She
was agitated too, unsettled. “Listen, this isn’t about me,” she
finally said. “All I wanted was to tell you what’s in the works. I
didn’t want to surprise you.”

“I haven’t brought the gang into the school,
Cassie.”

“I know you haven’t. They don’t think you
have, either.”

“They?”

“Um, Mr. Taylor.”

“Do
you
think all this is
necessary?”

She bit her lip.

“The truth, Cassie.”

“I’m not sure. I do know I’m terrified you’ll
go back into the Blisters. If they infiltrate the school, you’d be
at a greater risk. And of course, I don’t want to see anyone else
sucked in.”

“But?”

“I’m not sure they’re going about it the
right way.” She raked hair out of her eyes. “But it doesn’t matter
now. It’s a done deal.”

Johnny studied her for a minute. “Fine,
you’ve told me. I know.”

“How do you feel about it?”

“Like shit.”

She didn’t say anything.

“Sorry. I know you hate that kind of talk. I
feel bad about them starting this. Like the last time you guys made
a
policy
that really screwed up my life.” He remembered
vividly when they’d said kids couldn’t leave school early to work.
Instead of telling them he and his mother wouldn’t eat if he didn’t
work, he’d up and quit school altogether. And spent six months
doing things he was ashamed of now.

“I’m sorry. It isn’t aimed at you.”

“Neither was the last one. Or so you said.
Does anybody remember that they were wrong about sweeping policies
then? I thought you’d all smartened up. Why can’t you take one case
at a time, evaluate it and make decisions from there? Like you do
about the work thing now?” He shook his head, stood and shrugged
into his jacket.

She watched the gesture. “What are you going
to do?”

“I’m going to work.”

“You’ll be here tomorrow, right? We’re
starting a new unit.”

You’ve got yourself a job...but the catch
is, you gotta stay in school and not cut out when you get pissed
off at somebody.

“Yeah. I’ll be here tomorrow. I don’t really
have a choice.” He took one last look at her before he left. Her
usually pink cheeks were pale as snow. Something was wrong. Was it
just worry over him? He started for the door, but the thought that
he’d caused her sadness made him stop and turn around. She was
sitting with her hand over her eyes, her face down. “Cassie?”

Her head snapped up. “Yes?”

“Get some sleep tonight. I’m pissed off about
this, and I think it’s the good Captain’s doing. But I’ll be here
tomorrow.”

She angled her chin. “That’s not enough,
Johnny. You’ve got to stay away from Zorro. From the Blisters.”

“You guys do what you have to to keep the
Blisters out of Bayview. I can take care of myself.”

Cassie stared at him. “Like I said, that’s
not enough.”

“It’ll have to be, Teach.”

o0o

CASSIE ENTERED the library meeting room at
precisely two-fifteen, ten minutes after Johnny left. She should
feel good about the fact that he’d been reasonable, that he hadn’t
stormed out on her. All things considered, their meeting had gone
well. But she felt rotten. Forgoing the coffee and cookies Seth
provided at faculty meetings, Cassie took a seat on the far left
side of the room, away from everyone else. Let them do their thing.
She’d deal with it, and so would Johnny.

Summoning some of the
cool
the kids
seemed to admire about her, she watched Seth standing at the
podium. She listened as he made a few announcements, after which he
told the staff the purpose of the meeting. Immediately, a buzz
filtered through the group. He let it go a minute, then called
again for everyone’s attention. “I’ve asked Mitch Lansing to
address this issue with you, so I’ll let him get to it. Mitch.”

The principal left the podium and crossed
directly to Cassie. He sat down next to her, gave her a half smile
and squeezed her arm. She smiled as best she could, then looked up
front.

Mitch strode to the podium, all masculine
grace and athletic poise. Cassie stared at the shoulders she’d
grasped when he touched her only a week ago in her living room. She
watched the lips that had trailed down her neck just three days
ago. She took in the broad expanse of chest she’d laid her head
against, hearing his heart thumping in reaction to her
nearness.

And she felt an incredible sense of loss.

He reached for the laptop computer on the
table. Without a word, the lights dimmed and four young boys
appeared on the movie screen connected to the computer. They were
dressed in red and black, sporting Mohawk haircuts and sneering
mouths. One had a scar on his face. Their hands were raised, their
fingers splayed like pitchforks. Underneath the picture was a
caption, “Coming Soon To A Neighborhood Near You.”

Several gasps were audible from the
staff.

With perfect timing, Mitch let the scene sink
in. Then his rich baritone came over the microphone. “I’m going to
give you all a test. Use the pads and pencils you found on your
seats.”

On the screen flashed several words. “First,
translate these terms.” They were:
gang bang, mushrooms,
copper, kingpin, home boys, gangsta, jumping in, drop the flag,
violated.

Interested, Cassie defined the words.
Briefly, she reflected that Mitch had learned his teaching lessons
well—he’d immediately gotten the staff’s attention and then had
them actively participate. She glanced around. Almost everyone was
involved. A few here or there weren’t writing—Jerry Bosco, of
course, was not—but Mitch had grabbed at least ninety-eight percent
of the audience. And that was tough to do with veteran teachers on
a Monday afternoon.

After a few minutes, Mitch explained the
terminology. Murmurs went through the crowd. When he asked if
anyone had gotten them all right, no one had.

Then he instructed the staff to write down
their definition of a gang. She was so proud of him—how he was
validating the knowledge the teachers already had before he
presumed they knew nothing. Asking for definitions, he praised a
few good ones, then put one on the screen. “I hope everyone can see
it. I know adults don’t like to be read to.”

“We’ve got a lot of old eyes in this room,
Mitch,” Bill Carlson called out from the back.

“That’s what we keep telling you on the
volleyball court,” a young social studies teacher retorted.

“Why don’t you read it, Mitch,” Seth
suggested, amid the good-natured chuckles.

“All right. A 1991 law defines a criminal
gang as ‘any on-going organization, association or group of three
or more persons whether formal or informal, that has as one of its
primary activities the commission of criminal offenses, has a
common name or common identifying sign or symbol and includes
members who individually or collectively engage in or have engaged
in a pattern of criminal activity.’”

Mitch waited a moment, and then said, “I
believe your school is in danger of encroachment by a gang from the
city called the Blisters.”

Silence. The fluorescent lights hummed
above.

“I’d like to tell you a little bit about why
kids join gangs, who’s vulnerable, and how to prevent gangs from
infiltrating Bayview Heights High School. I don’t have all the
answers, but I do have information that can be useful to you. No
need to take notes. Seth has an outline of the pertinent details
for you after the meeting. I’ll stop for questions after each
section.”

“I have a question now, Captain.”

Cassie watched as Mitch faced down Jerry
Bosco. Mitch leaned back on his heels and stuck his hands in his
pockets. “Okay, shoot.”

“Who’s suspected of gang activity here?” He
looked around until he spotted Cassie. “The At-Risk kids?”

Seth stood to address Bosco and the rest of
the teachers. “We’ve talked to three boys and their parents. I’m
keeping their names confidential for now.”

Bosco sat down but said in a booming voice so
everyone could hear, “Well, you know one has to be Battaglia.”

“As a matter of fact, Jerry, one wasn’t
Battaglia,” Seth said evenly. “And I’d be careful if I were you.
Lawsuits can be filed in delicate cases like these, which is one of
the reasons I’m not announcing any names.”

Bosco turned red-faced, and Seth sat back
down. Cassie saw the principal’s hands clench, the muscles in his
jaw bunch. He looked over at her. She smiled at him, grateful for
his public defense of Johnny.

Mitch said from the podium, “What you really
need to know is not names, but why any kids are susceptible to
gangs, what the lure is. Anyone have an idea?”

A health teacher raised her hand. “The
breakdown of the family.”

“Right.”

Zoe added, “Kids who are isolated in
school.”

“They’re called ‘throwaway’ kids,” Mitch
explained. “And the gangs are called ‘orphan institutions,’ which
take kids in when other institutions let them down.”

Again, Jerry Bosco blurted out, “So this is
the school’s fault, like everything else. We aren’t social workers,
you know.”

Gripping the podium, Mitch looked like he was
counting to ten. “No, Mr. Bosco, you aren’t. But do you know the
single most important factor in keeping kids straight is success at
school?”

Bosco murmured something under his breath.
Mitch turned to the screen and flashed up several more indicators
that made adolescents vulnerable: kids who feel they have no
control or power in their own lives; kids whose homes are places of
conflict; kids with no prospect of a job or a future; kids who are
failing, are suspended, or who are routinely embarrassed at
school.

A few more questions were answered. Finally,
one teacher asked, “What can be done, Mitch?”

Cassie glanced her way.

The attractive young French teacher smiled up
at him. “Can you help us help these kids?”

“Yes, Sarah, I think I can.”

Sarah? Mitch knew the French teacher’s name.
How? A sudden stab of jealousy hit Cassie, battering the already
weak defenses she’d kept in place since he’d walked out of her
house on Friday night.

A list of ten anti-gang measures came up on
the screen. Mitch highlighted one in yellow. “The first important
step is admitting there’s a potential for this problem at your
school.” He hesitated a moment. “I know it’s not an easy thing to
do. I respect Seth for acknowledging the danger.”

Next, Mitch explained how teachers and all
staff members needed to get smart and become aware of the gang
symbols and paraphernalia. At this point, he stepped aside from the
podium and called Seth up front. They demonstrated an elaborate
handshake. With a self-effacing smile, Mitch looked at the group.
“Don’t think we don’t feel stupid doing this.” The teachers
laughed. Seth sat back down, and Mitch continued. “In all
seriousness, that’s the handshake that they use now, but any
suspicious hand signals should be noted.”

“What do we do if we see it?” another teacher
asked.

“Bring the student immediately to the office.
Or report him or her and the administration will track it
down.”

Mitch talked about identifying student
leaders and getting them on the school’s side, which Bosco
applauded as a great idea, of course. “Another thing you’ve done
well is to identify at-risk students and provide for them so they
have an equal chance of success. I’ve been participating in your
program for five weeks now, and it’s one of the most effective ones
I’ve seen.”

He looked over at Cassie. Her breath caught
in her throat at the meaningful glance. “A fourth point deals with
my being here, too. The police department needs to work closely
with the school. To give information, like this, of course, but
even move to develop a positive relationship with the students who
are vulnerable to gang activities. Statistics show that kids have
more internal conflict at the prospect of joining a gang if they
have a good relationship with the local police force.” He smiled
engagingly and said, “I think it’s working, although I’m having
trouble keeping up with the homework.” Again, the humor broke the
considerable tension in the room.

“Another thing you do well is not closing
your doors at three o’clock. I’ve noticed a number of after school
activities at Bayview Heights. Even letting kids just hang out in
the halls to socialize or shoot the breeze with the staff is a good
idea. There’s a lot of camaraderie among the faculty and kids
here.”