The Wave (8 page)

“At which they will formally indoctrinate two hundred new members?” Mrs. Saunders asked skeptically.

Laurie sighed. “Mom, listen to me. You’re really getting paranoid about this whole thing. Nobody’s indoctrinating anyone. They’re going to welcome new members to The Wave at the rally. Those people would have come to the pep rally anyway. Really, Mom, The Wave is just a game. It’s like little boys playing soldier. I wish you could meet Mr. Ross because then you’d see there’s nothing to worry about. He’s such a good teacher. He’d never get into anything like cults.”

“And you’re not disturbed by it at all?” Mrs. Saunders asked.

“Mom, the only thing that disturbs me is that so many kids in my class could allow themselves to
get caught up in something so immature. I mean, I guess I can understand why David is into it. He’s convinced that it’s going to turn the football team into a winner. But it’s Amy I can’t understand. I mean, well, you know Amy. She’s so bright and yet, I see her taking this so seriously.”

“So you
are
worried,” her mother said.

But Laurie shook her head. “No, Mom. That’s the only thing that bothers me, and that isn’t much. I promise you, Mom, this is a molehill and you’re looking for a mountain. Really, trust me.”

Mrs. Saunders rose slowly. “Well, all right, Laurie. At least I know you’re not involved in this situation. I suppose that’s enough to be thankful for. But please, babe, be careful.” She leaned over, kissed her daughter on the forehead, and left the room.

For a few minutes Laurie sat at her desk but did not go back to her homework. Instead, she chewed on a Bic pen and thought about her mother’s concerns. She really was blowing it way out of proportion, wasn’t she? It really was just a fad, wasn’t it?

CHAPTER 10

B
en Ross was having coffee in the faculty lounge when someone came in and told him Principal Owens wanted to see him in his office. Ross felt a tremor of nervousness. Had something gone wrong? If Owens wanted to see him, it had to be about The Wave.

Ross stepped out into the hall and started down toward the principal’s office. On the way more than a dozen students paused to give him The Wave salute. He returned them and continued quickly, wondering what Owens was going to say. In one sense, if Owens was going to tell him that there had been complaints and that he should stop the experiment, Ross knew he would feel some relief. Honestly, he had never expected The Wave to spread this far. The news that kids in other classes, kids in other grades even, had gotten into The Wave still amazed him. He simply hadn’t intended it to be anything like this.

And yet there was another consideration, the
so-called losers in the class—Robert Billings, for example. For the first time in his life, Robert was an equal, a member, part of the group. No one was making fun of him anymore, no one was giving him a hard time. And the change in Robert was indeed remarkable. Not only had his appearance improved, but he was starting to contribute. For the first time he was an active member of his class. And it wasn’t just history. Christy said she was noticing it in music too. Robert seemed like a new person. To end The Wave might mean returning Robert to the role of class creep and taking away the only chance he had.

And wouldn’t ending the experiment now also cheat the other students who were taking part in it? Ben wondered. They would be left hanging without a chance to see where it would eventually lead them. And he would lose the chance to lead them there.

Ben abruptly stopped. Hey, wait a minute. Since when was he leading them anywhere? This was a classroom experiment, remember? An opportunity for his students to get a taste of what life in Nazi Germany might have been like. Ross smiled to himself. Let’s not get carried away, he thought, and continued down the hall.

Principal Owens’s door was open, and when he saw Ben Ross enter the anteroom, he motioned him in with a wave.

Ben was slightly confused. On the way down to the office he’d somehow convinced himself that Principal Owens was going to chew him out, but the old man appeared to be in a good mood.

Principal Owens was a towering man who stood
over six feet four inches. His head was almost completely bald except for a few tufts of hair above either ear. His only other noteworthy feature was his pipe, always present, which protruded from his lips. He had a deep voice, and when he was angry he might instill instant religion in the most hardened atheist. But today it seemed as if Ben had nothing to fear.

Principal Owens sat behind his desk, his large black shoes propped up on one corner, and squinted slightly at Ben. “Say, Ben, that’s a good-looking suit,” he said. Owens himself had never been seen around Gordon High in less than a three-piece, even at a Saturday football game.

“Thank you, sir,” Ben replied nervously.

Principal Owens smiled. “I can’t recall seeing you in one before.”

“Uh, yes, this is something new for me,” Ben allowed.

One of the principal’s eyebrows rose. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with this Wave thing, would it?”

Ben had to clear his throat. “Well, yes it does, actually.”

Principal Owens leaned forward. “Now, tell me, Ben, what this Wave thing is all about,” he said. “You’ve got the school in a tizzy.”

“Well, I hope it’s a good tizzy,” Ben Ross replied.

Principal Owens rubbed his chin. “From what I’ve heard it is. Have you heard differently?”

Ben knew he had to reassure him. He quickly shook his head. “No sir, I’ve heard nothing.”

The principal nodded. “I’m all ears, Ben.”

Ben took a deep breath and began. “It started several days ago in my senior history class. We were watching a film about the Nazis and …”

When he finished explaining The Wave, Ben noticed that Principal Owens looked less happy than before, but not as noticeably displeased as Ben had feared he might be. The principal removed his pipe from between his lips and tapped it on an ashtray. “I must say it’s unusual, Ben. Are you sure that the students are not falling behind?”

“If anything, they’re ahead,” Ben replied.

“But there are students outside your class that are now involved with this,” the principal observed.

“But there have been no complaints,” Ben said. “In fact Christy says she’s even noticed an improvement in her classes because of it.” This was a slight exaggeration, Ben knew. But he also felt it was necessary because Owens was overreacting to The Wave.

“Still, Ben, these mottos and this saluting bother me,” the principal said.

“It shouldn’t,” Ben replied. “It’s just part of the game. And also, Norm Schiller—”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Owens said, cutting him short. “He was in here yesterday raving about this thing. He says it’s literally turned that football team of his around. The way he was talking, Ben, you would have thought he’d just drafted six future Heisman Trophy winners. Frankly, I’d just like to see them beat Clarkstown on Saturday.” The principal paused momentarily and then said, “But that’s not what I’m concerned about, Ben. I’m concerned about the students. This Wave thing seems too open-ended for
my liking. I know you haven’t broken any rules, but there are limits.”

“I’m completely aware of that,” Ben insisted. “You have to understand that this experiment can’t go any further than I let it go. The whole basis for The Wave is the idea of a group willing to follow their leader. And as long as I’m involved in this, I assure you it can’t get out of hand.”

Principal Owens refilled his pipe with fresh tobacco and lit it, for a moment disappearing behind a small cloud of smoke while he considered Ben’s words. “Okay” he said. “To be perfectly frank about this, it’s so different from anything we’ve ever had around here that I’m not sure what to think. I say, let’s keep an eye on this thing, Ben. And keep your ears open too. Remember, Ben, this experiment, if that’s what you want to call it, involves young, impressionable kids. Sometimes we forget that they are young and haven’t developed the, uh, the judgment we hope they’ll someday have. Sometimes they can take something too far if they’re not watched. Understand?”

“Absolutely.”

“You promise me I’m not going to have a parade of parents down here suddenly shouting that we’re indoctrinating their kids with something?”

“I promise,” Ben said.

Principal Owens nodded slightly. “Well, I can’t say that I’m crazy about this, but you’ve never given me cause to doubt you before.”

“And I won’t now,” Ben told him.

CHAPTER 11

W
hen Laurie Saunders got to the publications office the next day, she found a plain white envelope on the floor. Early that morning, or late the afternoon before, someone must have slipped it under the door. Laurie picked it up and closed the door behind her. Inside the envelope was a handwritten story with a note attached. Laurie read the note:

Dear Editors of
The Grapevine
,

This is a story I have written for
The Grapevine
. Don’t bother looking for my name because you won’t find it. I don’t want my friends or other kids to know I wrote this.

Scowling, Laurie turned to the story. At the top of the page the anonymous author had written a title:

Welcome to the Wave—or Else

I’m a junior here at Gordon High. Three or four days ago me and my friends heard about this thing called The Wave that all the seniors were getting into. We got interested. You know how juniors always want to be like the seniors
.

A bunch of us went to Mr. Ross’s class to see what it was. Some of my friends liked what we heard, but some of us weren’t sure. It looked like a dumb game to me
.

When the class was over, we started to leave. But this senior stopped us in the hall. I didn’t know him, but he said he was in Mr. Ross’s class and asked did we want to join The Wave. Two of my friends said yes and two said they didn’t know and I said I wasn’t interested
.

This senior started telling us how great The Wave was. He said that the more kids who joined, the better it would get. He said almost all the seniors at school had joined and most of the juniors too
.

Pretty soon my two friends who said first they didn’t know changed their minds and said they wanted to join. Then the senior turned to me. “Aren’t you going to stick with your friends?” he asked
.

I told him they were still my friends even if I didn’t join. He kept asking me why I didn’t want to join. I just told him I didn’t feel like it
.

Then he got mad. He said pretty soon people in The Wave wouldn’t want to be friends with
people who weren’t in it. He even said I’d lose all my friends if I didn’t join. I think he was trying to scare me
.

But it backfired on him. One of my friends said he didn’t see why anyone had to join who didn’t want to. My other friends agreed and we left
.

Today I found out that three of my friends joined after some other seniors talked to them. I saw that senior from Mr. Ross’s class in the hall and he asked if I had joined yet. I told him I didn’t intend to. He said if I didn’t join soon it would be too late
.

All I want to know is: Too late for what?

Laurie refolded the story and put it back in the envelope. Her thoughts about The Wave were beginning to come into focus.

As Ben left Principal Owens’s office he saw several students putting up a large Wave banner in the hall. It was the day of the pep rally—the Wave rally Ross had to remind himself. There were more students in the halls now, and he seemed to be making The Wave salute nonstop. If this kept up for much longer he was going to have one sore arm, he thought.

Further down the hall, Brad and Eric were standing at a table handing out mimeographed pamphlets and shouting, “Strength Through Discipline, Strength Through Community, Strength Through Action.”

“Learn all about The Wave,” Brad was telling passing students. “Here’s a pamphlet.”

“And don’t forget the Wave rally this afternoon,” Eric reminded them. “Work together and achieve your goals.”

Ben smiled wearily. The untethered energy of these kids was tiring him out. There were Wave posters all over school now. Every single Wave member seemed to be involved in some activity—recruiting new members, disseminating information, preparing the gym for the rally that afternoon. Ben found it almost overwhelming.

A little further down the hall Ben had a funny sensation and stopped. He felt as if he was being followed. A few feet behind him stood Robert, smiling. Ben smiled back and kept going, but a few seconds later he stopped again. Robert was still behind him.

“Robert, what are you doing?” Mr. Ross asked.

“Mr. Ross, I’m your bodyguard,” Robert announced.

“My what?”

Robert hesitated slightly. “I want to be your bodyguard,” he said. “I mean, you’re the leader, Mr. Ross; I can’t let anything happen to you.”

“What could happen to me?” Ben asked, startled by the notion.

But Robert seemed to ignore that question. “I know you need a bodyguard,” he insisted. “I could do it, Mr. Ross. For the first time in my life I feel … well, nobody makes jokes about me anymore. I feel like I’m part of something special.”

Ben nodded.

“So can’t I do it?” Robert asked. “I know you need a bodyguard. I could do it, Mr. Ross.”

Ben looked into Robert’s face. Where there had once been a withdrawn and unconfident boy, there now stood a serious Wave member, concerned for his leader. But a bodyguard? Ben hesitated a moment. Wasn’t that going a little too far? More and more he’d begun to recognize the position of importance his students were unconsciously forcing upon him—the ultimate leader of The Wave. Several times over the last few days he had heard Wave members discussing “orders” he had given: orders to put posters up in the halls, orders to organize The Wave movement in the lower grades, even the order to change the pep rally into a Wave rally.