Ted appeared on the verge of agreeing, but then considered wrinkles in the plan.
“It'd never work. Even if they still never sealed the door, there is no lighting. We'd never be able to see enough to climb up.”
“Not a problem,” Billy said, eagerly digging into his back pocket. He pulled out a small black flashlight, the kind with small bulbs that can produce an exceptional amount of light. “I always carry it with me. I have the habit of losing things in the dark,” he explained, and then added, “If fact, it's a wonder I have as many kids as I do.”
“All right,” Ted said.
Alicia wasn't shy about letting her feelings known. She folded her arms in front of her, and stared at Ted for a long time. She was disappointed and angry with him for agreeing to such a juvenile act. At the same time she couldn't help feel somewhat responsible. After all if she'd hadn't cajoled Ted into attending this reunion, they would even be here now-- they would be doing what they usually did on a Friday night-- take in dinner and a movie, bowl a few lines, or just rent a couple movies and lie about the house.
“Well, I'm getting more drinks,” she said, disgusted.
Before the reunion came to a merciful end, somebody decided that it would be a good idea for everyone to take a walk through the school. Everyone line up and filed through the dimmed hallways of the school. Some were took there drinks with, sipping them now and then, leaving little Dixie cups here and there, where on Monday, when classes resumed, children would wonder at the white cups left on their desktop or on a windowsill. They snaked through the narrow hallways, starting behind the stage at the short hallway that led to the rear of the school, first floor, where the kindergarten rooms, redolent of crayons, were located, and made their way up to the front of the school, second floor, which was reserved for the classrooms of seventh- and eight-graders.
Along the way people pointed at this or that, at the old porcelain drinking fountains or at the new lowered, commenting on what was changed and what was the same. They murmured among themselves recalling stories of things that had happened here, in the art room, or there, on the stairwell. And everybody noted how very small everything seemed now.
As Ted, Alicia and Billy moved along, huddled together vaguely and separated from everyone else, Ted knew, was absolutely certain, everybody was talking about him, especially as the walked on the second floor and approached the mop closet in which he'd been locked for what amounted to many hours of his early life. He was astonished, though, to discover the closet was no longer there. He thought at first that he was mistaken about its location. But no, it appeared as though it had been taken out and dry-walled over many years ago already. It really wasn't much of a closet anyway, he thought.
Everyone ended up back in the auditorium. A couple people slipped out the front door, while most of the others milled about. Some exchanged phone numbers and promised to be in touch with others.
Ted, Alicia and Billy stood near their table.
“It's almost over, sport,” Billy said.
“Yeah,” Ted said.
“We should just stroll out the front now. Nobody'll notice.”
“I don't supposed there's anything I could do to talk you guys out of this,” Alicia said.
Ted smiled. “Don't worry. It'll be all right, I promise. I just have to get this out of my system.”
Alicia, dubious, told Ted she would meet him out in the car, and Ted and Billy headed for the front doors.
It was very easy, really. As soon as they were clear of the door, they turned left in the lobby and headed for the stairs. They quickly climbed the stairs, both giddy with excitement and very much like naughty children starting something that they are sure will be spoken of for years. The tower door was, indeed, unlocked; Billy tugged it open, and the hinges made a low long squeak. They shut the door behind them, and stood a moment in the darkness. When Billy turned on his flashlight, the inside of the tower was dimly illuminated. It ought to have been brighter, but the darkness here seemed to smothered the light. Still they could see the narrow steps wheeling upward, their unpainted blanks looking ancient and dusty. They slowly began their ascent. The flashlight made jiggley shadows on the bricks walls around them, as Billy labored to climb the stairs that creaked menacingly under his feet. Behind him Ted worried that Billy might toppled backwards and end up crushing him. Strangely it seemed like a long time before they reached the top. The last time he had been here, he was sure, it had only taken a few seconds to gain the belfry. Maybe then Adam and he had run. When you are a child you seem always to be running. It never bothers you. When you get older, running becomes ungainly, if not impossible.
