Adam Levin - The Instructions

We had one knife and ten of Benji’s stolen crack-lighters. He handed them out once the coins were rationed, and I showed the Side of Damage where to sever their bottles. The jetflames were as precise as Benji’d told Pinge — they left all the rims at the severances smooth.

As the lighters went around, Benji called in the fire in his basement on Jelly’s celly, I called in a gunman at a mall on Jerry Throop’s, and Vincie on his own phone reported a beardo who left a fat suitcase on the Metra tracks. When he hung up, he shook his ammo-packed fist. It jingled and he said, “I don’t get this coin-op bullshit.”

I’ll explain soon, I said. Why you whispering?

“It seems like you’re trying to keep everyone in suspense, so I don’t want to blow the suspense.”

How would you blow the suspense? I said.

“Because I know what we’re making,” he whispered. “June invented—”

I forgot, I said.

“Well so I don’t know what this fucken coin-op bullshit’s all about. Why don’t I get some nibs from my locker?”

How many do you have?

“I don’t know — forty? I lost count. My grandparents keep sending them to me. No one ever told them my eye got inked, and their hearts would fucken break if they knew I quit calligraphy.”

Go, I said, but do it fast — the pep rally ends in twenty-five minutes.

“What if Floyd’s out there?”

I said, Take Ronrico to scout for you. He can run distraction if—

“Distraction’s good,” Vincie said, “but, you know what’s a lot fucken better…”

I handed him the sap. He wanted to bang fists.

We banged fists.

“Ronrico,” said Vincie, “let’s go.”

“I want to finish making the weapon,” Ronrico said.

Give me your tit-shaped piece, I said.

“Tit-shaped! Ha!” Ronrico said. He traded me for the pennygun in my pocket.

“How do I use it?” he said.

“I’ll show you on the way,” Vincie told him.

They grabbed some change and split.

I called in a hit-and-run. Benji called in a dine-and-ditch.

As soon as all the widemouths were severed, I demonstrated how to affix the balloons and told the Side of Damage what to understand.

Understand you hold a gun, I said.

Then I projected a nickel into a desklamp and the bulb shattered.

The Side of Damage cheered.

I projected another one at a coffee carafe, and the carafe shattered.

They cheered some more.

Understand you hold a gun, I said, but understand you’re not the only ones. Others in the gym will have them, too. I don’t know how many, and I don’t know most of their names. And since they don’t know all of us and we don’t know all of them, the only way we’ll all be able to identify each other is by our weapons, so be sure to brandish and be sure to watch for brandishers, too: we’re all on the same side. Ask your questions.

“What makes them on our side?” “What if we don’t like them?” “What if they’re enemies?”

I said, Even if some of them have been your enemies in the past, the past is over. They’re all loyal to me, and all of us are against the Arrangement.

That was good enough for most of them, but a few — some of the smartest — were still concerned.

“Please forgive my interjection, Gurion, but how is it that you know these others are loyal to you if you do not even know their names?” asked Anna Boshka.

“Gurion knows stuff,” said the Flunky. “He’s the leader.”

“It’s true,” said the Janitor.

I said, I was their leader since before I even met any of you, and they’re my brothers, so they’re loyal. Faith in me is the same as faith in them.

Anna said, “But what if we do not have faith, Gurion?”

“Jeez, Boshka, don’t be such a downer,” Chunkstyle said.

I said, No, it’s an important question. If you have doubts, then you can’t attack the pep rally with me. And I’m not challenging any of you when I say that. You’re all feeling stronger now, weapons in your hands, and that’s good, that’s why I had you build them, but back in the Cage a lot of you were dying to leave, and any of you who want to leave, any of you who have any doubts — and I don’t mean about will we have victory or won’t we — those doubts are fine, better than fine, they are smart, faithful — I mean about should we have victory or shouldn’t we, are we righteous or aren’t we— you will leave with my blessing. I want you to leave if you have those doubts. And if you leave, you will leave with all your snat, and under my protection. No one will call you a coward or a traitor. You’ll always be, as you have been, on the Side of Damage.

“What if something happens and we want to leave later?” said Ansul Entsry. “Like after we attack?”

I said, If you follow me to the gym, you have to follow me til I tell you not to follow me anymore.

“What about freedom of choice?”

Nakamook said, “If you get to leave whenever you want, no one’ll know who to rely on.”

I said, You make your choice here. Walk away now or stay til it’s over.

“But what if we think we want to attack with you, but then, after we start, it turns out we were wrong and we didn’t really have faith?” Ansul said.

“You mean like you’re worried you don’t have faith in your ability to know if you have faith right now?” Benji said.

“Yeah,” said Ansul.

“Then you’re a fucken pussy and we’re better off without you,” said Benji.

“But what if—”

“If you come with, then try to run away in the middle of it, I’ll catch you,” Benji said.

“Gurion?”

I said, You probably shouldn’t come with us, Ansul.

“But I want to.”

Everyone here wants to, I said, and soon, if things go well for us, almost everyone everywhere will want to, or at least wish they had — even some of our enemies. It’s not good enough to just want to, right now. If you can walk away, you should walk away.

Just then Vincie and Ronrico returned to the lounge.

Take a minute to decide, I told the Side of Damage. If you’re not coming with, turn your coins back in — we’ll need them.

“We didn’t fucken see Floyd,” Vincie told me.

“Not that we didn’t go looking,” said Ronrico.

“Shut the fuck up, Asparagus. You wanted to get him as bad as me.” Vincie handed me the sap. I stuck it in my belt. “I’m sorry,” he said, “but I just love that thing. Makes me wanna fucken use it, you know?”

“I know!” said Ansul Entsry. “Exactly!” he said.

“Huh?” said Vincie.

Ansul batted his eyelids = either “I think you’re very sexy and want to kiss you, Vincie Portite,” or, “I think you’re very sexy and want to be like you, Vincie Portite.”

“Anyway, I was thinking about it, and I’ll bet you anything Floyd’s in the gym,” Vincie said.

Why? I said.

“His big fucken chance to do crowd control or whatever.”

You’re smart, I said.

“I—”

“Did you tell him about the Office and the camera?” Ronrico said.

“Did you fucken hear me tell him? You’ve been standing here the whole time,” said Vincie. To me, he said, “The good news is that Brodsky’s office is empty and so is Nurse Clyde’s, plus look at all these nibs.” He emptied a baggie of nibs on the table. “The bad news is: Some Boystar guy with a camera was walking around and I think he caught us on tape.”

“We’re all gonna be on tape, anyway,” Benji said. “Right?”

Right, I said. I said, It doesn’t matter.

“Good,” said Ronrico. “Cause I flicked that guy off.”