The Instructions

“Gurion, you must kill no one,” my mother said.

  Ema? I said.

  “I want you to listen to me, Gurion. I want you to stop talking and listen to me very, very closely. Your father and I love you. We know that you were already upset about what happened to your father last night and we are sorry that—”

  Ema, you don’t have to—

  “Listen. Closely. Please. Gurion. Please do not interrupt me again.”

  Okay, I said.

  “I do not like to discuss these kinds of things when other people are listening either, but it is important we discuss this right now: We are, first of all, sorry, very sorry that it took us so long to get in contact with you today. Despite your father’s injuries, we did end up meeting with our lawyers this morning, and our phones were turned off. We did not know about any of this until only fifteen minutes ago. We are even more sorry, your father and I both, that we chose last night to tell you about the divorce. We are sorry that we did not take into account how upset you already were about what happened to your father at the courthouse, and we are sorry that we did not take your feelings into account regarding where you would live. As a mental health professional, I of all people should have known that you would want to live with me, your mother, even though I am the one at whose feet lay the blame for our marriage’s disintegration. Our only excuse for our rash behavior, and it is not a very good one, for you are our son who we need to put before ourselves and protect at all costs—our only excuse is that we were upset, ourselves, and we were being selfish. Me especially. It is not a good excuse, but it is the truth. And you do not have to live with your father, not if you don’t want to. You can live with Yakov and me and all of Yakov’s children at Yakov’s house, just as long as you don’t kill anyone. Are you listening? This is important.”

  I said, Ema, I feel like I’m going crazy.

  “You have my word, Gurion, that you are not going crazy. You just need to pause for a moment and think clearly about what I have told you, and you will see that everything, though it will be different from now on, will be nonetheless fine, at least eventually, just as long as you do not kill anyone. Yakov is a kind, forgiving man, and just as soon as this is all over, and just as long as you do not kill anyone—Yakov cannot be expected to abide killers in his house, not with all his children, all your new brothers and sisters—he will treat you as his own son. I am assured of this. He has assured me. He knows who I am and he knows that you are special. Do you understand?”

  Yes? I said = I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, but I understand I’m supposed to pretend you’re getting a divorce because people are listening and you’re speaking in code, some kind of code that I’ll decipher any minute now; you’re offering me a carrot called “live in Yakov’s house,” and warning with a stick called “don’t live in Yakov’s house.”

  “Now I want you, in English,” she said in Hebrew—why in Hebrew? not because she believed there wasn’t a Hebrew speaker listening; she had to believe that, or else she would have used Hebrew all along instead of code; rather, she spoke, now, in Hebrew, to clarify that she was no longer speaking in code—“I want you, in English, to tell me you will not kill anyone, and I want that to be the truth. And then I want you to surrender to the police.”

  June stuck her head out the gym’s central exit, started to approach me.

  I won’t surrender to the police, I said in English. Not before my friends get here. And if I tell you I won’t kill anyone, then Persphere’s gonna raid.

  “That may be so,” my mother said in Hebrew. Then back to English: “But if you surrender now and you don’t kill anyone, you will be able to live with me in Yakov’s house, and I know that’s what you’ve wanted all along.”

  All along? What was she talking about, all along? What had I wanted all along? To write immortal scripture? To ensure my father’s safety? To study Torah with my peers? To be married to June by an Orthodox rabbi? Which all along? All along starting from when, exactly? And if I didn’t know what I’d wanted all along, how could she know what I wanted all along? Yes, she was my mother, and she knew me very well, but she couldn’t know me better than I knew myself. No one could. No one can know anyone better than one knows oneself. All I could make of what my mother was telling me was that she believed there was some reason to have hope, and that it was a real reason; that the reason wasn’t “one should have hope” or “hope will provide,” but some actual, tactical-type, on-the-ground reason. Either that or she was, with the best of intentions, lying to me, colluding with the cops to ensure her son’s safety; i.e., she knew I would not get what I wanted all along—whatever that was—if I promised not to kill and surrendered to the cops, but she knew that if I surrendered and promised not to kill, I wouldn’t, myself, get killed, which because she was my mother was her primary concern.

  In either case, it wasn’t enough.

  And here was June, taking hold of my hand in both of hers, shaking it around, widening her eyes.

  I said to my mom and to anyone else listening: I love you, Ema, but I’ve said all I’ll say. Persphere lets my friends in and no one gets killed. After that I surrender. Now I have to go.

  I turned off the phone.

  “Who’s this ‘Ema’?” June said.

  I said, Ema means mom.

  June kissed my mouth, and then she stopped. I tried to re-start, but she ducked away.

  Hey, I said.

  “I have something to tell you that you don’t want to hear, and you’re not allowed to think I’m a bad Israelite.”

  I won’t, I said.

  “Because Eliyahu and the Five think the same thing as me, Gurion.”

  I like to hear you say my name.

  She said, “Berman is bad.”

  He isn’t, I said. He’s just been afraid.

  “No. You’re wrong. All those ex-Shovers are bad, Gurion, and everyone else in their bleachers is with them. On TV they started showing the front of the school again, and there’s all these cops in a line, and a helicopter, and everyone got freaked out all over again, and the Israelites started whispering in circles, back and forth. I tried to listen in to what they were saying, but they’d stop the second I was close enough. Eliyahu tried, too, and the Five. Same thing, though. I think they’re plotting against you. I don’t think you should go back in there. I think you should send me back in there and I’ll say you ordered that I bring the Side of Damage out for guard duty, and we’ll all go somewhere else in the school where you’ll be safe, and wait there for the scholars. Vincie thinks so, too. And so does Eliyahu.”

  I said, The Israelites are with us. They’re just afraid.

  She said, “Every time you leave, they start acting shady.”

  I said, Every time I come back, they stop acting shady.

  She said, “They’re whispering, though, Gurion. If they were shouting, that would be one thing—but whispering…”

  I said, We’re whispering right now. And so were you and Eliyahu and Vincie.

  “And in all those cases, something was being plotted.”

  And this plot, like that one, is being shot down. I’m shooting it down.

  “Please?” June said, “Please just listen to me? I’ve got a really bad feeling. Let’s go somewhere else.”

  I can’t, I said.

  “Well I won’t go back in with you.”

  Okay, I said. I understand. Just go wait at the nurse’s with Jelly and Benji. No one but us knows that’s where they are. As soon as the scholars come in, I’ll come get you.

  “No,” June said. “I’m leaving. I’m going outside.”

  Okay, I said. Okay, I said. I said, I wish you’d stay, but I guess I under-stand, or that I will understand. Or no, actually. I mean I don’t understand at all, but I should because I love you, so I will, I think, eventually, but… Come on, June, I love you. The hardest part’s over. Just stick around. We have to do what’s dangerous, remember?

  “If you go back in the gym, I’m leaving,” she
said.

  I need to go back in, I said. I wish you wouldn’t leave, but if you have to, I guess let me tie up your wrists, and I’ll take you out the front.

  “No wrists,” June said. “I wasn’t a prisoner. I’m not gonna pretend I was a prisoner.”

  Please let me tie your wrists, I said.

  “You’re missing the point!” she said, and she punched me in the chest, and grabbed my hand, and grabbed my other one, and we didn’t go anywhere, but swayed there and hugged and arm-pulled a little. It wasn’t exactly dancing.

  Berman and Cory were waiting in the bleachers-gap. From behind them came the voice of the network anchor, enumerating “non-lethal assets.” Tear gas. Pepper spray. Billyclubs. Tazers. I squeezed June’s hand, said, I need to talk to Aleph and his boy here, okay? Please tell the Side I’ll be there in a minute.

  Berman leaned close, checked over his shoulder. When June turned right at the edge of the bleachers, he told me, “We’re done for if we don’t surrender.”

  No one’s done for, I said. You’re all just afraid. I need you to act like a leader, Berman. The scholars are coming. They’ll get here soon. I need you to keep the soldiers cool in the meantime. They’re looking to you.

  Ally Kravitz turned the corner into the gap.

  “Listen,” Berman said. “There’s no way this is gonna work. It’s one thing for your friends to get past four cops. I was as happy to see that as the next guy, okay? But there’s a hundred cops out front. And a helicopter. And snipers, and—”

  “We want to tie up the Side and surrender,” Cory said. “We want to tell the cops the Side made us do this, but we overcame them.”

  And which ‘we’ is this?

  “The Israelites,” said Berman.

  Which ones? I said to Berman. Eliyahu? The Five? June? Jelly?

  “I don’t want to be a rat.”

  That’s a funny thing to say.

  Berman looked at his feet.

  Are you including me in this ‘we’?

  “Of course,” Berman said, hope aflicker. “You’re our leader, right?”

  Right, I said, I’m your leader. Exactly. And we’re not tying anyone up, I said. And what I’m gonna do is tell myself that you’re just really scared, and you don’t really know what you’re saying. You didn’t really make the suggestion I thought I just heard. It was a scared little thought you had and you spoke too soon—you’re not even thinking it anymore, right? Because the scholars are on their way, and after they get here, we’ll all go out, prisoners in tow, and I’ll surrender, and all of you will say that I did this, and I will say that I did this, and everyone will believe that I did this, and you will all be fine.

  “Okay,” Berman said. “Okay. I get it. You don’t want the Cage kids to get in trouble either. You’re gonna take responsibility for all of us, right? So, like, what about this? We could tie you up, and then all of us could walk out of here, the Israelites and the Cage kids.”

  I said, We’re waiting for the scholars, Berman.

  “But the scholars can’t get in here,” Ally said. “There’s too many cops.”

  They’ve gotten past cops. They’re coming, I said.

  “Four,” Ally said. “They got past four in regular cop-clothes. Now there’s a hundred dressed up in riotgear.”

  And there’s a hundred cameras, too, I said. Plus how many parents in the parking lot? They’re not tazing kids or gassing kids or clubbing kids on live TV in front of anyone’s parents.

  “Maybe they will, maybe they won’t,” Berman said.

  I said, Everything I’ve said has come true so far.

  “You don’t know,” Berman said. “All due respect. You don’t know what they’ll do. You can’t see the future. It’s a risk, Gurion, and all due respect, we don’t know these scholars. What difference does it make if they get here or not? To us, I mean. What difference?”

  If I can get hundreds of scholars to come here to see me, then it helps to make the case that I got all of you to attack the school, kill Desormie, and take prisoners.

  “There’s enough of us already, though, right? You said so yourself. If we all say you did this, they’ll believe us anyway, scholars or not.”

  “Maybe they will, maybe they won’t,” said Vincie, who’d entered the gap without my having noticed. “It’s a fucken risk, you respectful fuck.”

  Vincie, I said, we’re all cool here. Go back to the bleachers.

  Vincie made the noise “Tch,” and walked away.

  “They’re already on their way—the scholars,” Ally Kravitz said. “They don’t need to get in the building for your plan to work, Gurion. They’ve already come all this way to see you. It doesn’t really matter if they get inside the school or not—they’ve come as far as they have because you told them to. No one doubts that, and no one will—there’s all those emails. And it’s not just us who’re taking a risk here if you insist they come inside the school—there’s them. They could get hurt, too.”

  But they’re not gonna get hurt, and neither are we.

  “You can’t possibly know that!” Berman said.

  We’re going in circles, I said. Now listen to me. I think I know what the problem is here. You’re confused because of the pennyguns. All of you are. Your weapons gave you confidence and made you stronger, okay? But they didn’t make you strong enough to take the school, despite what you think. We were able to take the school because we protected each other. In protecting each other, we did what Adonai wants us to do. We did what He has always told us to do, and were strengthened. Our victory owes to that. Now you see cops outside with superior weapons, and you forget about protection, and you forget Adonai. You think only of weapons. You think that because they have better weapons, they’ll defeat us. I’m telling you they won’t, not as long as we protect each other. I’m telling you: don’t be confused by your weapons.

  “Tying you up, now,” said Ally, “and surrendering—that’s a way to protect each other.”

  My chemicals were starting to fire a little. Why couldn’t they hear me?

  I said, Why can’t you hear me? Why don’t you trust me? Why can’t you see what’s before your eyes? Everything that is good for me is good for the Israelites.

  “So you’re saying you are the messiah, then,” Berman said.

  No, I said.

  “You’re not the messiah?”

  I might be, I said.

  “You are or you aren’t.”

  That’s not how it works.

  “That is how it works. You can’t have it both ways. We can’t take it both ways.”

  I’m not even asking you to, I said. Even if I am the messiah, what good would it do you to hear me say I was? You’d only doubt it like everything else. Forget about the messiah—no, don’t forget about the messiah… It’s just it doesn’t matter if I’m the messiah. Not here, it doesn’t. I need to give myself up to the cops, or the whole plan crumbles. If I’m tied up, they’re only gonna wonder why you didn’t tie me up earlier. They’re gonna wonder why it took so long.

  “We’ll come up with a story.” “We can come up with a story.” “Your back was turned so your swirly pinwheel eyes couldn’t cast their crazy spells on us.” “Your eyes were on the television and you were distracted.” “We came to our senses when you started to—”

  Those stories aren’t true, though, and plus you’ll screw them up. You won’t get them straight. You need one story and it needs to be simple. ‘It was Gurion.’ ‘Gurion.’ ‘Gurion did it.’

  “He’s right,” said Ally. “You’re right,” he said. “It needs to be simple and it needs to be true. You need to turn yourself in of your own volition. So do it. Do it right now, though, before we get hurt.”

  I’ve already made my demands, I said.

  “Back off your demands,” Ally said. “Say you got scared. That’s a simple story for you to tell, then we’ll tell our simple one, and everyone will be believed.”

  Ally was right. Rather, Ally was correct. His way
would work too. If my only concern were the safety of the Aptakisic Israelites and the Side. His solution was the safest, most practical solution. But I had the scholars to think about: delivering them the damage prayer, their public acceptance of June as an Israelite, and the protection of my father. And why didn’t I explain that? Why hadn’t I explained it? Why hadn’t I, at any point prior to this one, told them about my plans regarding June, the delivery of the prayer, the protection of my father? Why hadn’t I told them at the first opportune moment? It was, after all, the truth. And yet it hadn’t even occurred to me to tell them. Rather, it had never occurred to me that it would be a good idea to tell them. But why not? Because I feared they’d suspect me of being blinded by personal motivations? Yes. Because I thought they would, owing to those suspicions, cease to obey me, screwing everything up for themselves and the rest of us? Yes and yes and yes. Because I feared that I was, in fact, blinded by personal motivations?

  Curiously or not, scholars: no.

  Emphatically no.

  I believed what I’d told them with all of my heart. Whether or not I was the potential messiah—and make no mistake; the likelihood that I was seemed to me to be increasing by the second—I believed that what was good for me, in this case at least, was good for the Israelites, and I believed that what was bad for me was bad for the Israelites, and I didn’t see any reason to reveal information to them that might put what was good for us at risk. Some scholars may wish to cast this as a failure on my part to trust my brothers in the Aptakisic gym. Fair enough. It was a failure of trust. But it was just as much a success of mistrust. I knew our limitations, at least a few of them.

  And beyond that, I wasn’t scared. Not of being raided. Not of the cops attacking the scholars outside. Not anymore. I wasn’t. They wouldn’t. At least I didn’t think they would. At least not just yet. And if I was my generation’s potential messiah, then to act scared when I wasn’t scared, to give up before I wanted to give up, before I thought I had to give up, let alone to lie about being scared—no messiah would do that, and any potential messiah who did that would, no doubt about it, be squandering his potential. What was bad for me was bad for the Israelites.