Heroes and Villains
by Eli Dupree

"Tell us about what happened with you and the fire, when we were in middle school," you ask.
I don't want to.
"Come on," you say, "We were all just arguing about what really happened. Nobody ever told us anything, and only you and Teresa knew--"
And Tara.
"Alright, and Tara. Don't you think--"
It's charming that you care. You're a very charming person, Damien. But I don't want to talk about it. The point of a high school reunion is to talk about what each of us went on to do, not to dwell on what happened in the past.
"It'll be good for you," you cajole, "If you don't ever want to talk about it, if you're suppressing the memory..."
Well...
"Come on, Claire, tell us a story."
All right. But don't expect me to be a brilliant storyteller.

--

Any story about the fire is a story about Tara, who's dead now (you gasp.) Don't look so surprised - and don't ask; you asked me to tell you a story, and I'm going to tell it in the order I want to.
I suppose her story goes back at least as far as when they held her back for a year, I don't know what for, or when she entered kindergarten a year late and the boys made fun of her - I think she mentioned your name when she told me about that - or even when she was born. Or before that. Who knows when it begins? But I'll tell you starting from the day she was suspended for hitting Ms... what was her name...
Ms. Turner.
I'll set the stage for you: We're sitting in Ms. Turner's classroom. Tara's fifteen, the rest of us are thirteen. Teresa sits in the middle of the back row, I sit directly in front of her, and Tara is in front of me and to the left.
Oh, by the way, Tara's name is really Teresa, too. And she'd bite your head off if you she heard you mention that Tara isn't a real abbreviation of 'Teresa'. She liked the name.
Anyway, it starts with when Teresa - the other Teresa, not Tara - do you wonder why she changed her name? I think there were a couple other Teresas in our grade too.
Where was I? Oh right - I was telling you how it started when Teresa didn't stand up for the Pledge of Allegiance. She never believed in it. She had moved her only a few years before; her family was from a dozen different countries, and to be honest, I don't think they ended up better off here than anywhere else.
Anyway, I don't know why she picked that day to stay in her seat, but she did. Of course, Ms. Turner pounced on her - not literally! She asked "Why aren't you standing" and Teresa didn't answer - you know how she was, shy and utterly quiet. I saw her earlier today, and I almost didn't believe it was the same person, she was so energetic and excited. Don't get any ideas - if you ask her about any of this, she won't even acknowledge that you said anything. I tried.
(I take a breath) So, when Teresa didn't respond, Ms. Turner walked over and tried to physically make her stand - grabbed her under the arms like this. That's when Tara turned around and started yelling at her, saying she had no respect for her students, for anyone's opinion but her own. Then I remember Tara yelling "Get your hands off her," and when Ms. Turner didn't stop, she went over and started punching her. She screamed, all the other teachers came running and grabbed Tara and dragged her out of the room.
Everyone forgot about Teresa in the confusion, so she just slid back down into her chair and curled up in that position she would always get into when she was frightened (you say you don't remember it.) Like this, with her arms pressed against her chest and her hands held just below her chin. She didn't relax until everything was settled down again. Oh, and as soon as none of the teachers were listening, you started making fun of how pathetic Ms. Turner sounded when Tara was beating on her. Don't think I don't know you boys.
Of course, Tara was suspended after that. As I understand it, the principal at the time wanted to lay all kinds of punishments on her, but first she was "just" suspended for ten days. It turned out not to make a difference anyway.
That's when the interesting part starts: Apparently a lot of the students thought that what Tara had done was awesome or heroic, and found her outside of school to congratulate her. At any rate, I wasn't thinking about her very much, but a couple days later she pulled me aside while I was walking home from school and said "Claire, I need to talk to you because you're the only one who doesn't think that what I did was totally awesome or totally evil. I can't stand everyone acting as if I'm some great hero or some horrible villain."
I didn't know how to answer that, so I asked, "Why did you do it?"
She spat, "Did you see what she was doing?! Trying to force her opinion on that poor girl? Not to mention that it's against everything America itself stands for. She deserved everything I gave her."
"But you got suspended!"
"Saves me skipping school. I was going to anyway. I'm sick of that place." I don't remember if she said "I'm sick of" or "I hate". She made it mean both.
"The principal is talking about--"
"Everyone else told me already. I don't care. I'm not a coward."
That last thing she said stuck with me. It still sticks with me today. I remember exactly how she said it. I remember just how much weight she put on that word coward.
I remember trying to get to sleep that night, thinking: I am a coward. I am a coward.

I'm getting sentimental. And I'm getting sidetracked. I might as well tell you about the day of the fire. Wait, first, I almost forgot - Teresa started standing and muttering the Pledge again right after the day Tara was suspended. I almost hated her for it, but I didn't do anything.
Anyway, we were in Ms. Turner's class doing some stupid worksheet when the fire alarm rang. Or rather - the fire alarm rang, and just before that, there was a low rumbling sound. I guess most people didn't notice it. So only a few of us knew it wasn't a drill.
The stairs down to the most convenient exit were right next to the classroom - you just had to go out and turn right, and you were almost there. When no one was looking I turned left instead - I still don't know why I did that. I ran down the hall, ran down the open stairs in - oh, I don't know how to describe that space - and ended up face to face with fire.
Everyone will tell you I heard whimpering and then ran through the fire. It's not true. I walked into the fire first. Yes, it was hot. Yes, it burned me. None of that seemed very important. And that's when I heard the whimpering - I don't think I could have heard it from safety. And that's when I realized that Teresa hadn't been in the room when the fire alarm rang.
I found her barricaded in an empty room. I don't know how she got there. Does it matter? Afterwards they found out that her name was last on the bathroom sign-out sheet back in Ms. Turner's room. Maybe she was on her way back, saw the fire ahead, and panicked. Maybe she signed out and then went there instead just to get away from class. It doesn't matter.
I had to force the door open, too - she was hanging onto the handle on the opposite side. She must have been totally in a panic. It felt like it took forever for me to convince her to come with me instead of staying there and dying.
Everyone makes a big deal of the fact that I carried her out of there, too. I didn't want her to get burnt - so what? She wouldn't have been able to walk very well, and she was so small and thin that it wasn't very hard anyway.
I said it at the time, and I'll say it again - I'm not a hero.
(I take a deep breath.)
On the day after the fire, the Fire Department said publicly that a boiler had exploded in the school. On the third day after the fire, the Fire Department said that the boiler that had exploded appeared to have been tampered with.
On the fourth day after the fire, Tara was arrested.
I didn't believe Tara could really have done that. I don't think anyone did. But then she confessed. She told how she had watched the school building carefully, looking for ways to slip in unnoticed, and how she found one, sneaked in at night, and sabotaged the biggest piece of machinery she could find. - although I'm given to understand her actual confession was interspersed with some impressive anti-establishment rhetoric.

The first day they let me back to school - I mean, after I recovered from my burns. I was so impatient in those few days to get back to normal life, and away from the artificial hospital and the people visiting me and calling me a hero. I had no conception of how badly I was injured.
Anyway... the first day they judged me restored enough to go back to school. I had to sit in my chair and endure all the other students asking me all kinds of questions about the whole business. I genuinely liked you in that moment - because you were so flippant about the 'hero' thing.
When the morning announcements came on and told everyone to stand for the Pledge of Allegiance... I just didn't feel like there was any reason to. So I didn't. Teresa started standing up, but then stopped; I guess she was following my lead.
You should remember this part. Ms. Turner asked me why I was not standing, I said loudly, "There's no America in this classroom."
"Do you want me to call the principal?!"
I wasn't nearly as good at rhetoric as Tara, but I manged something like "Like anyone else, I dislike being punished. Standing up for what I believe in is more important."
Ms. Turner walked towards the room's phone - next to to the door - while saying, "You are not standing up for what you believe in, you are being selfish and childish."
That's when the totally unexpected happened - Teresa spoke up. She was barely loud enough for Ms. Turner and me to hear, but she said that I wasn't being childish, that I was behaving as every adult should, and that Ms. Turner was just jealous.
Ms. Turner grabbed the phone furiously and stared dialing - but then she hung it up and stormed out of the classroom. Never to return, I guess. Suddenly I had to deal with being a double hero for saving Teresa and then making Ms. Turner quit her job. Of course, the main reason was that she would have been fired soon anyway, for failing to keep Teresa and me safe... I didn't think it was her fault, but I can't say I would have preferred that she keep 'teaching' us.
The next day, we had a new teacher, Mr. Bryant. That day, no one in the class stood for the pledge, and Mr. Bryant had to ask what was going on. Teresa stunned the class by saying, very loudly, "Claire says there's no America in this classroom. Claire won't let anyone say the Pledge of Allegiance until you show us some Liberty and Justice." If any of you ever wondered why Teresa and I were so close in high school, that moment was the real reason.

I was able to see Tara once - just once - before they took her away to prison. I don't think she would have let anyone but me visit her. Well, maybe her family, but looking back, I'm not sure she had one.
I don't remember what we talked about at first. In any case, it was probably personal stuff I wouldn't tell you anyway. But then I did ask her whether she regretted what she'd done, now that Teresa had almost died.
She told me matter-of-factly, "Teresa wouldn't be a lot worse off dead than she is now."
And then my visit was over, and that was the last thing I ever heard from her. I didn't let myself cry when I got home, but maybe I should have.
Tara's voice - her ability to say what she did - was a weapon that she could turn against anything and anyone. I can't begin to tell you how much she hurt me with that last statement. And at the same time, she made me think.
I don't want to be like Tara and say that life isn't important. But if I disagree... how can I say one life is more important than another? I hate the way everyone says I'm such a hero and she's such a villain. As if it justifies destroying her.
Yes... Tara killed herself in jail a few months ago. I could give you the details, but it's not important. She isn't a lot worse off than she was before, anyway.

~(July 2008)