The Battle of Jericho (7 page)

“Me? I don't know. I'm scared of the dark when I'm at home alone, and I'm scared of flying on airplanes these days, but nothing like bugs or snakes. What about you?” She handed him a stack of board games and puzzles.

Jericho thought for a moment. “Guys aren't supposed to be scared of anything. But I guess I'm afraid of doing something stupid in front of other people.” He was surprised that he had admitted that to her. “And I hate spiders,” he added quickly, “and roller coasters.”

“Roller coasters? Really? What do you ride on when you go to King's Island?”

Jericho grinned sheepishly. “The merry-go-round. The race cars. I just hate the feeling of falling.”

“There goes your career as a test pilot!” They both laughed.

They continued to sort in silence for a few minutes. Then Jericho asked her, “So, what do you think about all that stuff Dana was saying? Do you think girls ought to be in the Warriors of Distinction?”

“I feel like I'm already distinguished—I don't need a club to tell me I'm all that. But I think this club is pretty distinguished,” she added.

“So you don't think I'm dumb to want to do this?”

“No, it's just different—guys need this male-bonding stuff to survive.”

“Don't girls ever need to do that?”

“If I feel the need to hang with the girls, I call them up and we go shopping!” Arielle laughed.

“I hate shopping, I hate malls, I hate crowds. Makes me itch,” Jericho said, scratching his arm.

“Remind me never to call you to go to a Midnight Madness sale!”

Jericho laughed and watched her reach for another toy. Just watching her move made him happy. “So you think this is the right thing to do—this club stuff?” he asked her again.

“If it makes you happy, then go for it!”

“You make a lot of sense.”

“I gotta admit,” she said, “I like being around the Warriors and what they do. But that should have nothing to do with your decision to join.”

Jericho wasn't sure about that. Being with a girl like Arielle was something he'd never dreamed of. And it seemed like the Warriors were helping to make it happen. But all he said to her was, “I like the way you think.”

Arielle continued, “Now, November is different. She wants Josh to get in the club because she's like all into that community stuff. Plus, you know she likes the parties, and the dances, and silk jackets and tuxedos and stuff.
She sees this as a chance to encourage him to be more socially aware, and a chance to do lots of shopping so she can look good at all the Warrior events with him. November always has a dual agenda!”

“What about you?” Jericho asked.

“Me? I just came for the potato chips!” She laughed and stuffed several into her mouth.

To Jericho the time seemed to dance by quickly, and at the end of the four hours, there seemed to be only a small dent in the mountain of work to be done. But Jericho didn't care. Arielle had been laughing and teasing him the whole time, and he would have stayed there till midnight if he could.

As they all got their coats and promised to return on Wednesday, Jericho noticed the Warriors stayed behind and continued working. He liked that—they seemed so dedicated to the project. As he was leaving, he also noticed that Demetrius Stanford whispered a few words to Rick, who scribbled something on his clipboard. Jericho wondered if they were being rated as he hurried to catch up with Arielle, who was heading out the door.

It was dark when they got outside, and snow had started to fall. Jericho trembled a little from the cold, and perhaps because Arielle had grabbed his hand when she started to slip on the snow. “I wonder what they were saying about us,” Jericho mused aloud to Arielle and the rest of them.

“Probably wondering how such a messed-up dude like Josh hooked up with a fine-looking thing like me!” November teased. Josh put his arm around her and hugged her.

“Naw, they're probably deciding what size Warriors of
Distinction jacket to order for me!” Kofi joked. Dana, who walked a little behind the group, didn't laugh. No one mentioned her questions at the meeting. She got in her car and drove away without speaking to any of them.

“Hey, here's my dad—right on time,” Jericho called to them. “It's colder than a dead dog out here!” Jericho opened the van's huge side door, and they piled in. He made sure he sat next to Arielle on the backseat.

“Thanks, Mr. Prescott,” Kofi said as he climbed in the front seat next to Jericho's dad. “Glad you brought the van.”

“No problem, son. How's everybody tonight?” Mr. Prescott asked. “And how did your first night go with the Warriors of Distinction?”

“It was fun, Dad,” Jericho said. “You wouldn't believe the stuff they've got in there. A whole bunch of kids are gonna have a good holiday because of the Warriors.”

“Hey, Uncle Cedric, how's it going down at the precinct?” asked Josh. “What's the latest crime going down in Cincinnati?”

“Josh, it's never very pretty. Frozen homeless people, drug addicts breaking and entering, a couple of bank robberies, a murder by a jealous husband. Not pretty at all.”

“So why do you do it?” November asked. “Isn't it depressing?”

“No, November, because sometimes I really get to help. Like the abused wife that I got safely to the shelter last week, or the abandoned newborn baby that I found and saved last summer, or the kids I get to talk to at schools about the dangers of drugs. Sometimes I love my job. Sometimes.”

“I understand,” November replied quietly. “Believe it or not, I really do.”

It took almost half an hour to drop everyone off at their homes, and Jericho knew his dad had worked two full shifts and was very tired.

“Thanks for doing this, Dad,” Jericho said gratefully. “Whenever you want to get me a car and let me take over this job for you, let me know!”

His dad laughed. “You know, I used to wonder why they let kids drive at sixteen. Now I know—it's because parents have had just about enough of driving their kids around by that point! But don't worry, I'm not complaining—not yet.”

“At least I tried,” Jericho whispered to Arielle, who was the last to be dropped off.

“I had so much fun today,” she whispered back. “Can I come with you again on Wednesday? The Warriors seem like they've got it together.”

“I felt like I was one of Santa's elves,” he told her. “I'm really glad you came.”

“Pretty big elf!” she teased. Mr. Prescott pulled into her driveway then and she hopped out of the van.

“Thanks, Officer Prescott,” she called out. To Jericho she said, “Call me later.” Jericho grinned and moved to the front seat next to his dad.

“She seems like a nice girl,” his dad commented into the darkness.

“Oh, yeah,” was all Jericho said.

“And this Warriors of Distinction project seems like a really good thing,” his father continued.

“Oh, yeah,” Jericho said again. He reached over, turned on the radio, switched it from his dad's station to the one he liked, scooted down in his seat, and grinned all the way home. His dad just looked over at him and smiled. Sometimes silence is best.

JERICHO FINISHED HIS HOMEWORK AND
nervously waited for his father and stepmother to settle down and close their bedroom door. They usually turned in pretty early, and he was often awake long after the rest of the house was silent and asleep. Rory and Todd slept that sweet, deep sleep of children who play hard, but Jericho knew that his dad slept lightly, his police training keeping him aware of everything around him.

Jericho headed down to the kitchen at eleven-thirty, got a piece of Geneva's apple pie from the refrigerator, and listened to see if anyone stirred. All was silent. Geneva's little brown dog, Dimples, woke from her corner in the kitchen to sniff for handouts, but Jericho ignored her. If anyone woke up and caught him going out the door, he'd say he decided to walk the dog.

He pulled on his coat, listened once more for movement, and eased silently out of the back door, making sure
it didn't slam. The cold night air hit him full force, and he cursed himself for forgetting his hat. He pulled up his collar, hunched down into his coat, and walked briskly down the dark, icy street.

Everything looked different at night. The leftover snow sparkled in the moonlight, and the stars, which Jericho had never bothered to pay much attention to before, seemed like sharp points of light that bounced off the sleeping cars and frozen houses.

The warehouse was about sixteen blocks away, an easy jaunt in the summer, but tonight it seemed unbearably frigid and long. The tips of his ears burned with cold, and his toes had no feeling inside his well-worn Jordans. Jericho tried not to think about the long walk home, or how he would successfully sneak back into the house. For the moment, he just wanted warmth. He wondered why they called this meeting, anyway.

The warehouse loomed ahead, dark and foreboding. Jericho could see no lights. He thought wildly that maybe he was the only one stupid enough to come here tonight. Maybe they're just trying to make fun of him. But he walked on, hopeful and cold.

“Hey, man, you have any trouble sneakin' out?”

Jericho, thrilled to see Josh approaching, said, “Naw, Cuz. I'm just slippery like that.”

“I don't see any lights up in there,” Josh observed. They got to the door of the warehouse, found it was it unlocked, and opened it tentatively. The door squeaked and groaned. Inside all was dark.

It took a few minutes for Jericho's eyes to adjust to the
darkness. Three candles flickered dimly in the center of the floor. The boxes of toys had been pushed to the walls. Shadowy figures, who Jericho assumed were members of the Warriors, stood silently. No one spoke. Jericho felt stupid. He didn't know whether he should take off his coat, or perhaps say something to the silent boys. But as Josh had not moved, he, too, stood there, waiting.

The door groaned loudly twice more, and several more groups of boys arrived and stood silently in the darkness, waiting for instructions. After one last, loud grinding of the door, when a single figure dressed in a black skull cap and jacket entered the room, the members of the Warriors moved simultaneously to the center of the floor near the candles.

Finally a voice that sounded like Madison's spoke with authority. “Be seated on the floor. Say nothing.” They complied.

“What we say here,” Madison began, his voice sounding like a drum roll in the darkness, “is to be kept in absolute secrecy.” He held in his hands what looked like a large, leather-bound book. He opened it ceremoniously and read from the first page: “'Not one word of what we say or do from this point on is to be shared with another living soul—not your mother, your father, your girlfriend, your priest, not even your shadow on the sidewalk.'”

“Agreed?” Eddie Mahoney spoke fiercely to the awestruck group in front of him.

“Agreed,” the assembled group of boys replied in unison.

“Yes, we do the toy drive. It gives us credibility in the
community and at school,” Eddie continued. “But toys are for children, and we don't play.”

Jericho wondered what he meant, but was afraid to do anything to call attention to himself.

Madison took over. “If you made it here tonight, you have shown your commitment to the group. We always cooporate with the administration at Douglass. They're proud of us. So you will receive invitations to join the club through proper channels around the first of the new year. But officially, you are pledges now, if you choose to accept our challenge, and we require much more than the pink pledge T-shirt you'll receive.”

Madison continued. “We ask for—no, we demand—your dedication, your absolute obedience, your very life, if necessary. In return, we pledge to share with you our secrets, our connections, and our power. Any problems with that? If so, there's the door.”

No one moved. Jericho wondered if anyone else felt as uncomfortable as he did. He wondered what Madison meant.

Eddie spoke next. “Since there seems to be full acceptance, we will continue with what we call the 'Bonding of the Brotherhood.'”

“The Bonding of the Brotherhood,” Madison explained, “requires not only secrecy and obedience, but also responsibility, loyalty, and honor. Your first responsibility is to your pledge brothers. Look around you. The fifteen young men that you see here will depend on
you
for their success as well as their safety, and you will depend on each of them. You must provide
anything your
brother needs. Each pledge holds the responsibility for the other.”

“Agreed?” Eddie Mahoney asked once more to the almost-trembling pledges.

“Agreed,” they replied. Jericho shivered in the darkness with them, sitting together on the floor of that warehouse.

“In addition, you must agree to do
anything
you are asked to do,” Madison said, an odd smile on his face.

“Agreed?” Eddie Mahoney demanded.

“Agreed,” they replied quietly.

“I will lie if I must!” Eddie barked.

“I will lie if I must!”

“I will steal if it is necessary to help my brother!” Eddie continued. He looked almost demonic, it seemed to Jericho, in the dim light of the candles. He seemed to be enjoying himself as he chanted.

“I will steal if it is necessary to help my brother!” Jericho did not like the sound of this, but he wasn't sure how to get out of it. He whispered the words. His stomach was starting to hurt.

Madison turned the page of the book and continued to read. “As a pledge, you must also understand the concept of loyalty. Each of you must think of yourself as one link in a chain that has no beginning and no end. Therefore, all of you must succeed in every pledge activity, or none of you do. The group must work together to help the individual.”