The Final Touchdown
by C. Allan Butkus
Kindergarten children marching in a row. A smiling teacher. Why were they to die?
The day began beautifully, soft white clouds, the wind whispering across the trimmed lawns of the school grounds, then sailed over smiling jack-o’-lanterns. It was Halloween day, and a comfortable time to be a teacher. The children were dressed as princesses, cowboys, cowgirls, robots, and a dragon or two. They surged along, holding hands, young minds eager to learn about witches, goblins and happy spooks.
Their teacher, Miss Julie Ferguson was in her second year of teaching and loved it. Only twenty-three, she knew this was the job she would hold her whole life. The children were adorable, although at times they could be a trial.
The children filed through the tall glass school doors decorated with bats and cobwebs. Sgt. Johnny Johnson, the school security guard smiled as they passed.
Julie beamed at Johnny and said, "Good morning Johnny. Ready for trick-or-treat?”
"Yep. Another big day for a big belly," he smiled back as he ran his hand over his ample stomach.
"Did they tell you about the Halloween party were having this afternoon?"
"Yep. Saw the notice on the bulletin board. But I’m on duty until everybody leaves the building."
"You should be able to get out early today, the kids will be dying to get home to get ready for trick-or-treat," she said.
Today was special; in addition to the Halloween party, the children were each making an oral report about their favorite thing. Their homeroom was piled boxes and plants and pictures of their pets. The children were bubbling with excitement. But not all, two or three of the children were apprehensive, it was scary to stand up in front of others.
After everyone had passed through, he swung the door closed and heard the click as the lock engaged. He glanced over his shoulder to where the award cases stood, and sighed. It had been a long time since this school had been a high school. His high school. Some of the trophies in that cabinet he'd won. He had a special fondness for the pigskin football on the top shelf. He had caught the winning pass the year they had won the state championship with that ball. But that was years and inches ago. He ran his hand over his stomach again. The years do have a way of slipping by.
He had never been much of an academic student. He got decent grades and was good at sports, but he'd never had the money to go to college. It didn't bother him. He enjoyed what he did. One of the joys of his life was watching movies. One of his favorites was, "Shakespeare in Love." He often wished he could enjoy the words written by William Shakespeare, but that was not to be. Too many Thees and Thous for him to understand. However, he could relate to the movie. His favorite line was, "We don't know, it's a mystery." He still smiled when he thought of how pertinent the statement was. In context it said everything. Taken out of context it was ridiculous. He smiled to himself again; he was getting philosophical in his old age.
Down the hall in Julie's room he heard the children laughing. Then there was a sound of breaking glass. The laughter stopped. A few moments later Julie stepped into the hallway and called, "Johnny, could you come down here for a moment? We had a little accident."
He wasn't supposed to leave his post at the front door, but this was a kindergarten school and the biggest crisis he had to confront so far had been someone parking on the lawn. He glanced out through the front doors as he started down the hall. An unmarked van had pulled into the loading zone. A bearded man climbed from the truck with a long paper package and headed for the front door.
Julie called again, "Johnny, could you please hurry. One of the children broke the aquarium, and we have fish all over the floor." She ducked back into the room before he could reply.
He glanced out the door at the delivery man but only hesitated a moment before moving down the hall. Fish on the floor were an emergency he could understand. The deliveryman would just have to wait until he returned.
Julie's room was only two doors down, and he had almost reached it when he heard gunfire and the sound of breaking glass. He spun around and scanned the hallway. He heard the sound of crunching glass underfoot; the deliveryman carried a black rifle with a curved magazine. The man turned and looked down the hallway, and swung the rifle in Johnny's direction. The rifle began spitting death down the narrow hallway.
Johnny dropped to the floor and swept his gun from the holster at his side. The man was firing in full automatic mode and the rifle was jumping around, spraying bullets. One of the ricochets caught Johnny across his brow, knocking him to the side. Darkness closed in.
He didn't know how long he was out, but when he awoke, he heard the machine gun chattering and glass breaking. He forced the blackness away and looked down the hall. It appeared the man who just emptied his gun into the trophy case, and was replacing the long curved magazine with another.
Realizing he was still gripping his gun, he rolled onto his belly as he slid his other hand beneath his gun. The man had seen him move and swung his rifle up to fire again. Johnny lined up his sights as he had been taught and squeezed the trigger. The 45 bellowed and sent a message of retribution down the hallway. The heavy bullet struck the man in the chest. He staggered backwards. But did not fall. Johnny fired again. The man did not fall. Johnny realized the man wore a vest. He shots were having little effect. He raised his sights and squeezed the trigger again. The 45 leapt in his hand again. Johnny saw a long copper colored streak arced down the hallway and strike the gunmen in the throat. The would-be killer spun to the ground dropping his rifle.
Johnny wiped the blood from his brow and shouted to Julie, "Keep the children inside. Don't come out!"
He rushed down the hall to where the gunmen lay withering on the floor among the broken glass and shattered trophies. Skidding to a stop, he pointed the gun at the man's head and shouted, "Why would you do such a thing? This is the school full of young children. You gain nothing from killing our children."
The would-be killer's eyes began to glaze over. Soon he would be leaving this world. He looked up and said through a bloody froth, "It is our way."
Johnny was dumbfounded. Then unbidden, the phrase, "We don't know, it's a mystery," came to mind. This man, who lay dying before him, had decided children must die. Why? So that his lifestyle and philosophy could endure. A philosophy which proclaimed it was one of peace and understanding. It justified its existence by adherence to an ethical set of standards; committing suicide was forbidden, abstinence from alcohol, and no contact with unclean animals such as pigs. His kind did not want us to interfere in their affairs.
Nevertheless, today he had interfered with Johnny's affairs. The protection of children.
Johnny realized it was a mystery only to those who didn't understand it. He and his kind had decided our lifestyle threatened their philosophy. Consequently, his actions had brought him to this place and this time. He must have believed that his actions were justified by the results he would achieve. Johnny disagreed. The reasons for his actions were not sufficient justification.
Nevertheless, there was a way to resolve this situation, if not the mystery. Johnny walked across the broken glass and retrieved his game-winning football and carried it back to the dying terrorist. He knelt beside him, dipped his finger into the terrorist’s blood, and placed two dots on the football. Then dipping his finger back in the blood again he drew a curved line beneath the two dots. A grotesque smiley face. Lifting one of the terrorist arms he tucked the pigskin football under his arm. He stood and said, "And this is our way. Happy Halloween."
