Trent Reedy - Divided We Fall

“Ex cuse me?”

“Yes, Emily, if I can be allowed to finish my sentence—”

“It’s the Democrats and your precious president who are the criminals here, sending FBI agents where they are not allowed! He’s already been warned—”

“The federal government doesn’t need permission to arrest—”

“— not to send armed soldiers or law enforcement into the state. Now whatever disagreements he may have with Idaho’s governor or state legislature, he should know that this is a delicate situation, and he shouldn’t be recklessly endangering civilian lives by risking an armed conflict.”

“— criminals! It’s Montaine who is risking armed conflict! He’s trying to hold this country hostage.”

“Hold the country hostage? What does that even mean?”

“Whoa, easy, ladies. Is it possible that both sides of this issue are at fault?”

“Any mistakes the president or Democrats have made have been forced on them by Montaine and the Republicans.”

“Oh, please. This is another example of liberal bias and distortion in the name of their big-government agenda. •—

—• certainly an embarrassment for the president and the Justice Department. Attempts have been made to arrest Governor Montaine, and now to arrest at least some of the soldiers alleged to have been involved in the Boise shootings. Both of these attempts have failed. The president has a large personal stake in these issues. They’ve become a major part of his policy, and so I think it will be some time before another arrest attempt is made. He does not have the option to fail again. It would be a political disaster. •—

After a tense week, Friday night football was just what I needed, with an away game against the Bonners Ferry Wolves. We were 2–0 and planned on improving our record. Bonners Ferry was a tough enough team, but their starting quarterback was out on injury, and they had a sophomore filling in who wasn’t supposed to be so great. That was too bad for Bonners Ferry. Our defense was hungry.

Most of us were suited up and waiting in the locker room. Sweeney had our usual pregame music pumping, and the room was electric. Coach would be out of the office soon to go over some last-minute strategy and get us fired up. I couldn’t wait to cut loose on the field. It was going to be an awesome game.

“I will crush that kid.” Cal punched his fist into his other hand. “Little punk sophomore quarterback gonna wish he never filled in second string tonight.”

“That’s what I’m talking about!” TJ slapped Cal five.

“Sweeney, what is this?” Dylan reached up on top of the lockers and took down the comm playing music, flipping it around to show its purple back cover. “We’re trying to get ready for a game here.”

“Shut up, Dylan. My comm was out of power. I borrowed JoBell’s. It still plays music fine.”

Dylan shrugged and put the comm back.

The music cut out. “Anger is one letter away from danger, JoBell,” said Digi-Eleanor. “Since you’ve sounded angry when calling for articles about the Idaho Crisis, I thought perhaps you’d be interested in this breaking news story. The names of some of the Boise shooters are being released.”

“What the hell? I’ll put the music back on.” Dylan stood on the bench and looked on top of the locker at the comm. “NPR News alert?” He looked at me, confused. “Hey, Wright, it’s got your name.” He reached up to tap the blinking red box on the screen.

“Dylan, don’t!” Sweeney shouted.

“What?” Dylan said.

A deep male voice came on. “This is an NPR News alert.”

Then a woman’s voice continued, “From NPR News, I’m Alicia Seeve. The White House at this hour has confirmed that despite Governor Montaine’s efforts to prevent federal law enforcement from entering Idaho, the first arrest has been made in connection with the late August shootings in Boise. Twenty-year-old Specialist Tony Stein of Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, was taken into federal custody and moved to a detention facility in Washington, DC. An arrest warrant has also been issued for seventeen-year-old Private First Class Daniel Wright of Freedom Lake, Idaho. Both are currently charged with depriving victims of civil rights under the color of law. The Justice Department says more charges will likely follow.

“Idaho governor James Montaine said in a prepared statement, quote, ‘I regret failing to protect one of my soldiers from an unwarranted and illegal arrest. I do not know what President Rodriguez hopes to accomplish by publicly releasing the name of an innocent seventeen-year-old boy in connection with the Boise incident. I remain committed to protecting—”

Coach tapped the mute button on the side of the comm. Nobody spoke or moved. I kept my gaze focused on the floor, but I could feel all the guys staring at me.

“We have a game to focus on.” Coach’s voice echoed through the silent locker room. “I don’t know why you’re listening to the news to warm up anyway, but whatever you just heard doesn’t change anything. We still have to bring four quarters of hard-hitting football, and we’re still a team. We’re heading out on that field in a minute, and for the next hour, hour and a half, two hours, all that matters to all of us in the whole world is this football game. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Coach!” the guys yelled weakly.

Shiratori slapped a metal locker door. “Is that understood!?”

“Yes, Coach!” we shouted again. I’d seen him angry before, but not like this.

“Wright, you played great in our first game. There’s nothing different about tonight, understand?”

There was nothing different except now I had formal charges leveled against me and someone from my squad was in a prison cell. I didn’t know Stein all that well, but he was still one of my guys, and it could have been me.

“Wright!” Coach yelled.

“Yes, Coach! I got it!” I yelled as loud as I could, but somehow it wasn’t quite the excited, answering-an-angry-Army-drill-sergeant type shout I knew I should give.

We stood on the thirty-yard line with our helmets off, facing the American flag behind the end zone, as the Bonners Ferry band played the national anthem. Before, as I held my hand over my heart and listened to the music, watching our flag flowing in the breeze, I felt a sense of pride so great it made something ache in my chest. My dad had died for that flag and the freedom it stood for. But tonight, I didn’t have that sense of pride. Tonight, after that news alert, I felt betrayed and in danger. And I had to face the sad truth that not even football could make things right, could get me back to my normal life again.

It didn’t take long to figure out that the Wolves had heard the news about me too. The whole pack had it in for me. Early in the first quarter, the play called for me to run a little slant route, ahead two yards and then angling toward the inside. Sweeney hit me with a quick pass, but two linebackers sandwiched me and dropped me. A second later, a third piled on top hard, but still quick enough to avoid a late hit penalty. He punched his elbow into my gut, then his face mask ground into mine. “My cousin was shot at Boise. Might not be able to walk again. After tonight, neither will you.”

It was only the first of many dirty shots. By the fourth quarter, I was hurting way worse than I usually would in a game.