Мортон Рю - The Wave

“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 mottoes 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 judgement 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.

When 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 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 non-stop. 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 any more. 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.