I bent slightly, my tongue stuck unconsciously out of the side of my mouth in concentration as I straightened out the ends of the scarf around the collar of Maverick's shirt. Eight of us were milling around nervously backstage, listening to the sounds of the underclass boys and their guests taking seats, talking, laughing. I smiled at last, satisfied with Maverick's identifying display. "There." One of the dangling rumpled corners of the scarf bore the seal of the Academy. The other said, in small, stitched script, "Slave Maverick." Leo had dispatched Orson the day before to make a quick run back to the Academy with the scarves to get them personalized. With one exception, each of the senior fraternity boys was wearing his own scarf, the letters "Delta" and "Rho" displayed on the corners, while Larry and I were wearing scarves like Maverick's. Leo was dressed differently, in a form-fitting v-necked sweater in sky blue, with a yellow scarf tied around his bare neck — the formal outfit of rival fraternity Sigma Mu. The scarf nevertheless had "Slave Leo, Property of Delta Rho" stitched into its corners. His slacks were similar to those of the other boys.
Maverick smiled. "Nobody can read it out there anyway, hon."
I grinned and shrugged. "It's not about people seeing it. It just makes me feel more legal." I brushed my fingers across "Slave Wynn" on the scarf I was wearing. By law, no slave was allowed to wear clothes in such a way that his slave collar was covered up, as the shirt and scarf did to me. I felt confident that nobody would care at this private affair, but I agreed with Larry that the stitching on the scarves turned them into slave collars of sorts, just in case.
The clothes felt odd in any case, but somehow exhilarating. My dark brown slacks were much longer than the shorts I was used to, my long-sleeved robins-egg blue shirt concealed most of my upper body. I hadn't been dressed in anything that covered up this much for two years. Our uniforms covered our crotches and chests and not much more. All of the outfits at Academy parties were designed to be as sexy as possible — and often quite revealing. And I spent a lot of time at parties naked: while performing with Maverick, or being "host" for whomever rented me at the auction afterwards. Tonight, I was dressed formally as a Delta Rho boy, in the same style Grover and the others had worn at the negotiating session at the Academy two weeks ago. It was indeed a kind of uniform, though the Delta Rho boys only wore it on special occasions. At official university events. To classes during Spirit Week. Or tonight.
Dressing that way made me conscious of being a full participant in Leo's hanging.
Grover looked at his watch and said quietly, "Let's get in our places in about ten minutes." The rest of us agreed.
Leo, holding Larry's hand, turned to me and smiled. He giggled. "I know what I'm missing! There ought to be the sound of an orchestra tuning up!"
I laughed, trying to do it quietly. I looked at Leo's face, amazed at the blaze of light that seemed to emanate from him. Marshall had looked the same when I met him, but I had not had years of intimacy with Marshall, to be able to fully appreciate the joy he had been radiating on that one culminating day of his life.
Leo let go of Larry for the moment and put his arms around me, pulling me tightly against him to rub his head against mine. I felt Leo's energy flowing into me like an electric current. Just at the moment I felt fully charged, Leo released me and hugged Maverick. Maverick closed his eyes and held tight, and whispered "I love you" in Leo's ear. I blinked; I didn't remember Maverick ever having said that to anyone but me before.
Leo turned to the one person in the room he'd known longest of all. Emil, dressed like the others except for the absence of any insignia at all on his scarf, was standing with his spouse Gavin, holding his hand. Leo gave Emil a long hug, then backed away slightly and kissed him.
Emil grinned at Leo, his eyes wide with wonder, still holding him loosely. "Leo... I... Well, being honest, I never really understood why you wanted... this life. But..." He looked around at everyone gathered, waiting to start the show, listened to the excitement building in the invisible audience. "I get it, now. I really do. I can't really imagine how rewarding it feels, all this..." he gestured to indicate their surroundings, "...all for you, but I can see it in your face. You have what every anthro should have, but it's..." He shrugged. "...I don't know, magnified a hundred times. And I am so proud of you. I know it was so much work to get here."
A tear appeared at the corner of Leo's eye, and he absently brushed it away. "That really means a lot to me. I wish I could give some of my happiness to you somehow."
Emil laughed, a few tears of his own trickling down his cheek. "Oh, you have, Leo, really you have. And you too, Maverick." He turned to Maverick. "I can't say how special it is that you got me a chance to be here, and take Leo's head home with me. You're a very special person."
Maverick, his face reddening, whispered, "Thank you."
Leo patted his brother's hip. "What about you? What are your plans?"
Emil's eyes widened. "Oh! With everything going on, we didn't even get a chance to talk about that! Well..." He reached to the side to take Gavin's hand again. "We're trying to have a baby. We've talked to host mothers, but haven't found the right one yet. If we don't find one in the next three years, I'm going to the furrier, with all our friends over." He smiled and raised Gavin's hand, and rubbed his cheek against the back of it, then looked back at Leo. "Oh! And I was just thinking a minute ago — I guess I'd assumed all along he'd just behead me, but..." He bit his lip, and smiled. "I was thinking maybe he could hang me, with everybody watching. I know it wouldn't be anything like your show, I probably would barely last a minute, but just thinking about it..." He shivered suddenly. "It seems like it could really be a lot of fun!"
Leo gaped at him. "That would be great! Oh, and there's something you could do to get ready, if you really think you want to do it." The glow in Leo's eyes intensified even more. "I can't tell you most of what I learned, even if there was time, but here's something that's public knowledge. Look in Widdell's catalogue and order a neck trainer. That's what it's called. It'll come with instructions. It's just something you can use to build up your neck muscles. You'll enjoy the hanging a lot more."
Emil hugged him again. "Thank you so much! I'll do that."
Leo grinned at him, then suddenly said, "Oh! You've brought the jar with preserving fluid, right?"
Gavin nodded. "It's out in the car. Kind of heavy to lug it around."
Leo nodded. "Just be sure to get my head in there quick. And leave it in there for three days..."
Gavin smiled. "I know all that."
"Of course, sorry." He gave Gavin a hug, just as Grover said, "Okay, let's get in our places, everybody."
Emil stood on his toes and kissed Gavin. "Just wait here for me, honey."
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as the curtain started rising. I caught Leo's eye, and Leo grinned and gave me a quick thumbs up, then sat straight and still, waiting.
There was a row of three seats in front of me, with three senior Delta Rho boys, Lee, Kenny, and Harvey, sitting in them. My row consisted of me, Maverick, and two more fraternity brothers: Ari and Kelsey. The seats were oriented facing partly toward the audience and partly toward center stage. Across a gap of six feet or so, a similar arrangement of seven seats faced me, again angled toward the center and the audience. Leo was in the center of the front row of that group, with Grover and Henley on either side of him. In the second row of seats, Shakir and Lindley sat in the middle, with Larry and Emil at opposite ends, their relationships with Leo having earned them seats on Leo's side of the stage.
The audience appeared to number about fifty. Most of them were Delta Rho boys, easily identified, even the few I hadn't met: they were all in their formal outfits. Several had brought boyfriends, and in a few cases girlfriends, from outside, though most Delta Rho boys had paired up within the fraternity.
Rather than taking any of the auditorium seats, all of them were standing just in front of the stage. I knew the phenomenon — guests at Academy Boy hangings usually tried to get as close to the action as they could.
The murmur of conversations seemed to grow rather than quiet at the raising of the curtain. The audience was too excited to stay still.
Grover, serving as director of the home-grown drama, gave a little gesture with his hand and a small head nod, signaling to Brendan, who entered from the left rear of the stage in a mincing walk.
Brendan, the only one of the senior Delta Rho boys onstage not dressed as a fraternity member, wore a light gray business suit, the white shirt underneath buttoned primly all the way to the top, but no tie. As he came forward, he had to sidestep the blanket-covered hanging platform near the back of the stage.
As soon as Brendan came into view, the audience erupted into appreciative laughter — they all instantly recognized his portrayal of a well-known and much loathed faculty member, Dr. Loomis, who taught the university's Prey-species History course.
When Lindley and Henley wrote the script, they had thought to have their Hanging Boy play the role of Professor Loomis. But they had realized that, despite the renowned talents of Hanging Boys, they could not expect one to do a convincing impression of a particular teacher he had never seen. Brendan, on the other hand, had kept his fraternity brothers in stitches for years with his imitations of various faculty members and administrators. Lindley and Henley had decided to have the Hanging Boy play a member of the hated Sigma Mu fraternity.
As Brendan reached the space between the seated boys on either side, and the audience quieted, he began, in a nasal voice with a trace of foghorn, "Now, students..." The audience broke into laughter again, several of them applauding.
Brendan went on as the audience subsided, "Students, who can tell me the importance of John Riley in the Prey Rights Movement?"
Several boys raised their hands in a bored manner. Only Leo did so eagerly, waving it excitedly. Brendan looked solemnly in that direction, but said, "Yes, Vernon?"
Shakir responded with the answer everyone in the auditorium knew. "Sir, he was the first prey-male to attend high school."
Brendan nodded and frowned slightly, and said, in what I had been assured was a dead-on impression of Dr. Loomis, "But is that really the whole story of his importance?"
The "students" all wore puzzled frowns — all except Leo, who was again waving his hand frantically, as if competing for attention with a roomful of other waved hands, rather than being the only one. Brendan nodded to him. "Cleon?"
"Sir, he attended high school by disguising himself as a female. Females are rare, and of course the source of cubs, and were allowed some privileges even if they were prey. That gave other prey males the idea of pretending to be femmes, to get jobs."
Brendan nodded and cracked a small Loomis smile. "Very good, Cleon. Now, did this work right away? Anyone?" He looked around.
Lee had his hand raised listlessly. When Brendan called on him, he said, "Yes, sir, predators could see that prey, even male prey, could do the jobs just as well as predators could."
Leo seemed about to wrench his shoulder out of its socket with a renewed burst of handwaving. Brendan turned to him. "Cleon?"
Eagerly, Leo said, "Oh, that's not really true, sir. At the beginning, any prey-male found impersonating a female was executed and skinned immediately. They even passed the Gender Identification Law to try to discourage prey-males from trying to get jobs."
Brendan nodded again. "Was the eventual success of prey in the workplace a result of persistence?"
Ari raised his hand and was called on. "Yes, sir. Community organizers started spreading the idea of waiting until men stopped doing gender checks for hiring, and then they'd try it again. So over a period of years, it was... almost like a game."
The "students" murmured in assent, with nodding heads. Once more Leo raised his hand. Brendan called on him, and Leo said, "There was really more to it, sir. Some heads of major corporations decided that they could hire prey more cheaply and make more money, because prey worked just as well as predators, like Lee said. I think most prey-anthros today don't even realize that prey used to be paid less than predators. Anyway, that was what finally made it work."
Brendan beamed at Leo. "That's very good, Cleon. Now, I think all of the rest of you should be doing your reading more closely. You have learned many of the surface facts, but with the exception of Cleon, you have not really dug deeply enough. Since the final exam is coming next Friday, I expect all of you to explore the subject more seriously." He looked sternly to both sides, and said, "Class is dismissed," before turning and leaving the stage.
The curtain fell, long enough to drag the chairs away to the sides of the stage and push two beds in from the wings. Maverick and I, plus five of the senior boys, did most of the moving: the next scene involved only Leo's four owners, with Larry and Emil. The six of them now draped themselves in elaborate poses of relaxation on the two beds. I watched from the wings, my hand resting on Leo's left shoulder, absorbing more energy from Leo, Maverick similarly resting his hand on Leo's other shoulder, as the curtain was raised again.
As soon as the audience had had time enough to take in the scene, Henley raised himself on his elbows, his face a mask of gloom. "What are we going to do now? We're barely passing Prey History as it is. If we don't make it, they'll keep us out of extracurricular activities."
Shakir, in the same mood, added, "And take away our scholarships!"
Grover cursed. "We won't even be able to stay in school!"
Lindley moaned, "It's that damned grading scale that old dog uses for the class! Basing everything on the highest score. I've talked to boys in last year's class. There's been times when a 70 average got you an A in the class, because nobody scored any higher than that. He figures it just means the tests were really hard. But that damned Cleon! He hasn't scored below 95 yet!"
Shakir sighed theatrically. "I can just hear the professor now. 'You could do as well as Cleon if you put your mind to it!'" Shakir's imitation of Dr. Loomis was only a near approximation of Brendan's. "We are putting our minds to it. It's just not fair Cleon ended up in our class!"
Henley groaned. "We've just got to start studying." He listlessly reached to the side and picked up his book.
Grover wondered, "Where do we even start?"
Lindley answered, "Well, there's sure to be stuff on Gerard Hollis on the test. There's a whole chapter on him."
Shakir shook his head. "That's too easy. Every prey-anthro knows about him. We've been reciting that since first grade. 'When we prey give our lives...' We need to study the more obscure stuff."
Grover suddenly sat upright and shouted. "I've got it!"
The other five boys responded eagerly, "What?"
"I know how we can pass!" Grover looked around. "We just need to get Cleon to..." he paused. "...help us." He giggled.
The others gathered in a huddle around him and, as he whispered in their ears, they nodded eagerly, and the curtain came down again.
I resisted the need to put my arms around Leo one last time. Our goodbyes were done, we had said everything to each other that needed to be said. All I could accomplish now would be to break Leo's focus. As Leo walked to his spot on the stage, I sighed and said "I love you" under my breath, too softly for Leo to hear. It was something I only needed to say for myself. I picked up a spray can and took up my position with Maverick.
In front of me, Larry had pushed the hanging platform to the front of the stage, lining it up carefully with the lines of masking tape on the floor. He looked up to the catwalk above, where Steadman, a junior in the fraternity, holding the loop of the noose in his hand, nodded that he was ready. Emil gave his brother a quick peck on the cheek, but aside from that avoided anything that would have interrupted Leo's concentration.
The curtain was raised.
All fifteen boys were on the stage now, in much the same way as in the opening scene, but standing. Brendan had changed out of his severe-looking Dr. Loomis outfit and now wore the Delta Rho "uniform," and occupied the spot between Grover and Henley, where Leo had been in the first scene. Leo himself stood between the two groups of boys, all of them facing him. We all stood with drinks in our hands. A haphazard scattering of tables and lamps gave the impression of the fraternity common room — the hanging platform played the role of one of the tables. A Delta Rho party was in progress. Leo alone was dressed as a Sigma Mu.
Leo raised his glass and pretended to drink from it — he'd ingested his last food and drink hours ago, and didn't want any foreign substances coating his throat and possibly interfering with breathing. He beamed at the surrounding boys. "It's so nice of you guys to invite me to the party!"
Lindley said, "We just thought we should get to know you better, Cleon."
"Oh, call me Leo, please. All my friends do. Does this mean we can be friends? I didn't think you really liked me."
Grover took a sip of his drink, not needing to pretend. "Well, we're all in the same boat, you'd have to say. I mean, we're all working to get through that class. Maybe somehow we can all help each other, Leo."
Leo nodded eagerly. "It's so great you feel that way! I mean, we may be from different fraternities, but we're all prey. We should always help each other any way we can."
Henley responded, "That's right! It's like what Gerard Hollis said three hundred years ago. 'We... when we...' " He frowned. "How did that go again?"
Leo looked at him in open-mouthed surprise. "But every prey-male knows that credo! 'When we males give our lives to help others live better, our lives are not lost at all. They are our gift to those around us.' "
All around him the boys nodded. Shakir said, "That is so true. And you'd be willing to give your life to help others, right?"
"Oh, of course! Wouldn't you? I mean... that's what prey do!" He looked at Lindley, puzzled. "What's with the phone?"
Lindley was holding his cell phone up, open. "Oh, just needed to make sure we had that on video." Ironically, capturing video of the scene on a cell phone was something neither he nor anyone else in the room could do at present. Orson, in the wings, stood beside a device that scrambled all communication devices in the immediate area. A few decades ago, the Academy used only physical means to enforce the prohibition of recording a hanging. These days, we needed electronic enforcement as well.
Leo shook his head. "Why do you need to record this?"
The group surrounding Leo shouted, "So we can do this!"
As rehearsed, they crowded together now in front of Leo. Hidden by the others, Emil jerked the back of Leo's sweater out of his waistband. Leo was already holding his wrists behind him, and Emil, his hands shaking, tore away the tape on the handcuffs, fumbled his brother's wrists into them and snapped the metal bands closed. Leo shouted, "Wait! Stop! What are you doing?" as he kicked his shoes off. Maverick and I knelt on either side of him and I quickly began spraying his feet with the sticky spray. Maverick dusted them with the metallic powder. Most of his fur was already powdered, covered by his clothing, but we had to wait until the his shoes were off to do his feet.
Larry turned and jumped onto the hanging platform. Above him, Steadman let go of the noose, and Larry reached up and caught it with one hand.
The group in front of Leo moved to the sides now, and helped shove him toward the platform. He was still protesting as they lifted him onto it.
Grover and Shakir hopped onto the platform beside Leo. Larry dropped the noose over his roommate's head, positioned it, and tightened it. Each of them grabbed a fistful of Leo's sweater and gave it a yank. The sweater, its seams barely basted together, came apart easily. Grover then ripped off the Sigma Mu scarf. Lindley and Henley tore away Leo's slacks. Leo hadn't been wearing briefs or undershirt. Grover, Shakir, and Larry jumped down, and a new spotlight came on to shine directly on Leo: alone on the platform, facing the audience, naked, without even his slave choker. He did have an all but invisible band of wire around his neck that monitored his heartbeat. His hands were cuffed behind him. He stood upright on the platform, the noose snug around his neck, his powdered fur gleaming in the sudden brightness of the spotlight.
I was familiar with the audience reaction, which always included loud gasps at this point. The sudden eroticism of the visual image was overwhelming. For a moment, none of us could breathe. We all had at least partial erections; most of us could hide ours in our slacks, although a few already had visible bulges. But Leo's red tip was visible for everybody to see.
We moved to the sides of the platform, and sat on the floor where we wouldn't block the view.
Leo squirmed to try to release his wrists and looked up as though to judge how securely the rope was held from above, then looked down again. He moaned forlornly, "Why are you going to hang me?"
Henley said straightforwardly, "We really need to pass Prey History, and this is how you can help us do that."
"But... but... but..."
Shakir insisted, "That's exactly the kind of thing you just said you wanted to die for, isn't it? Your death helping others? We've got that on video, so this is all legal."
"But... but..." At last he wailed, "I want to die with my friends and family!"
All the boys cried out in unison, "We're your brothers!"
Grover explained, "We are so grateful to you for doing this, we've voted to make you a member!" Grinning, he hopped onto the platform, pulled a red scarf from his pocket, and tied it around Leo's collarless neck below the noose. Leo gaped at him, seeming barely to comprehend.
As Grover jumped down, Leo at last managed to gasp, his eyes wide, "You mean... I'm in??"
Together, the boys shouted, "YES!!"
Leo moved his mouth, seemingly speechless, and finally said breathlessly, "I... I always wanted... but in Rush Week, freshman year... they didn't... I couldn't... I had to settle for Sigma Mu... But I..." He stopped. "Do just one thing for me, Okay?"
Lindley asked, "What's that?"
Awkwardly with his hands bound behind him, Leo bounced on the balls of his feet in excitement. "Tell my family I died a Delta Rho!!!"
The audience, in which giggles had been building over the last few minutes, suddenly burst into laughter and loud applause, punctuated by shouts of "YEAH!" and "DELTA RHO! DELTA RHO!"
After a minute, Grover waved his arms for quiet — even the cast members were joining in the shouting — and the noise gradually subsided. Picking up from the last line, Lindley held up his phone again. "Tell them yourself. I'll record it for you."
Beaming into the phone's camera, Leo said, "Daddy? Lanny, Chester, Noah, Eli, Darcy, Emil..." Leo named his real life brothers, including the one sitting right in front of him, "I'm giving it all for Delta Rho! I got in!! All of you be good, and remember me, and be Delta Rhos when you grow up!" The audience, which had been trading audible background murmurs, broke into applause and laughs again.
I wished Leo's younger brothers could actually see that last speech, but not even a Hanging Boy could violate the rule against recording any part of a hanging. Leo would have to rely on Emil's powers of description. At least, thanks to Maverick, they would have his head.
The audience quieted of its own accord, as everyone knew the moment was here.
Henley looked up at Leo and asked the question so rarely put to Hanging Boys, but appropriate in this case: "Are you ready?"
Leo nodded eagerly, and shouted, "For Delta Rho!"
As the audience moved in still closer to the stage, Larry, Emil, Grover, Shakir, Lindley, and Henley all leaned forward and each put a hand on the lever, on the side of the platform behind Leo. As planned, they waited, holding the lever, about ten seconds, to allow Leo to steady his breathing — he seemed to be the only one in the auditorium who was breathing. My heart was pounding, and I was barely aware that my fists were clenched and softly pounding my thighs in excitement. I kept my eyes glued to the beaver's face, my inner voice asking the familiar question How will it feel when I do it? How will it feel? How will it feel? The only answer I could read in Leo's face was that intensified glow that seemed to go far beyond what the spotlight could account for. Leo's eyes were sweeping back and forth across the audience in front of him. They were the core of what hanging meant to any Academy Boy. It was for them that he had trained so intensely for three years, so that he could give them this one memorable performance. His excitement was now obvious — nearly all of his dick had come out of its sheath.
At last I heard Grover mutter softly under his breath, "One, two, three." On three, all six boys threw the lever.
I couldn't tear my gaze away from Leo, but as the platform began sinking I heard several soft moans , and realized some audience members had already begun masturbating at this early point. And several quiet gasps echoed the beaver's soft choking sound as his toes lost contact with the platform and his body was held aloft by the rope around his neck.
Even though Leo had been partway through his second year before he'd even met Maverick, he'd been an apt student of Maverick's new choreography of hanging. After allowing himself about thirty seconds to settle into the routine of hanging, he began, for lack of any better way to describe it, making love to the audience.
For a few minutes, Leo did the Maverick-type hip thrusts and leg wraps while turning very slowly, facing one side of the audience and then the other. I heard rasping, rapid breaths, followed by moans of arousal. About once each minute, Leo straightened and stretched desperately downward for support, his body rigidly quivering as if he were trying to make it several needed inches longer — the beaver had also been a good student of Shaw, who still did that move better than anyone but Maverick.
Leo turned farther left, now, facing the boys onstage below him, and giving a perfect frontal view to Grover, Shakir, and Emil. I watched Leo's straining arms and back muscles for a moment and then looked at Emil. I smiled seeing Emil's fascination — he was staring unblinkingly, slack-jawed, at his hanging brother. Emil, like probably everyone else here other than us Academy boys, had never seen a Hanging Boy in performance before, and no mere speculation beforehand about what such a performance might consist of could prepare him for seeing this talent in his brother. Like siblings almost anywhere, Emil had probably grown up thinking of the younger Leo as an inferior version of himself. That Leo was capable of developing such abilities, and eliciting such an explosion of arousal in all of the people watching him, no doubt left Emil awash in awe for his little brother.
His legs pedaling, Leo turned himself still farther to present his back to the audience for a moment, then rotated back the other way, gradually coming to face my side of the platform. Nominally, he was now performing for Henley and Lindley — but I could see: Leo was now dancing for Larry alone. The thrusting of his hips was slower, more intense, more sincere, as he projected his love to Larry one last time. I reached forward and put my hand on Larry's shoulder, and saw that Maverick was doing the same on the other side. There was no sign that Larry was aware of our touch. All of his being was focussed on Leo.
Leo was tiring by the time he rotated to face the audience again. He discarded the Maverick-kicks for more standard random kicking, though he continued to work in Shaw-stretches periodically. At last the pelvic thrusts began; Leo was working for his own pleasure now.
Leo rotated himself again — I hadn't thought he had that much strength left — facing Larry once more as he worked toward his final orgasm. Once more, Leo's world consisted of no one but Larry, and he clearly wanted to dedicate this last act of passion to his roommate.
I thought I should do something toward an orgasm of my own, then nearly laughed as I realized that my hand had taken on the task long before my head was aware of it. I was already rubbing myself furiously. Everybody else — including Emil — was doing the same, and tensely trying to hold off their climaxes just a little longer.
Leo suddenly stiffened and shimmied from head to toe. He couldn't voice his pleasure, but he quaked, his eyes screwed shut for the first time, his mouth open wide. But nobody else in the room was silent. I heard a variety of yelps as the various Delta Rho boys came — on the floor or in their pants. Leo finally came, spurting onto the platform and onto Larry's Delta Rho costume as well. Seeing that triggered my own orgasm. It washed over me, stealing my breath almost as completely as a noose, and left me gasping and shaking. I had seen many hangings by now, but each one still affected me intensely, though rarely to as strongly as this one.
In the relative silence that followed, I heard an awestuck whisper from one of the few femmes in the audience: "He just came!", followed by an exasperated whispered response from her boyfriend: "Duh!"
Leo had nothing left to give, now. His legs quivered in small jerks as he swung slightly in pendulum fashion. He was still for a moment, then kicked twice with his right leg, and hung motionless again.
I clapped my hands — a little sticky at the moment — and applause almost instantly swept through the audience. I was pretty sure Leo could still hear it, and I didn't want to let the opportunity escape to convey to Leo how deeply the crowd appreciated his performance.
Larry was holding the heart monitor and looking down at it intently, as Leo's bladder voided itself onto the platform below. At last Larry looked up, and I knew that Leo was gone. I sighed; what a thrill that Leo could have such a perfect show. And Larry showed no inclination just yet to move the play into its final act — some people were still clapping, and there was a lot of quiet appreciation for what everyone had just seen.
The audience quieted at last, and seemed unsure what to do, not knowing whether the play was over and whether they should be leaving.
Larry finally nodded to the other boys on the platform. Grover gave a hand signal and the six principal cast members jumped to their feet as the other seven, including me, scooted back. Lindley started it off, exclaiming exuberantly, "We're going to make it through the class!"
Henley shouted, "Yes!" then looked at the dangling Leo uncertainly. "Are we sure he's really dead?"
This was the cue for Emil's big moment. He gave an exaggerated shrug and said, "One way to find out!" At that, he pulled a knife out of his pocket, reached out to steady Leo, and plunged the knife into Leo's stomach, just below his ribs.
Most Hanging Boy shows ended with the Boy's head being cut off. Sometimes the circumstances called for a different demonstration, but usually there was only a little blood. But Leo had wanted a more dramatic display, and Emil had managed it exactly the way Leo wanted. Emil had sliced into Leo's abdominal aorta, and most of the blood in Leo's upper body came spilling out. A significant amount splashed onto Emil's shoes; he would probably keep them as a memento, after passing Leo's head along to his father so the younger brothers could have it at home.
The other five boys, including Larry, now pulled out knives of their own and thrust them into Leo. That started him swinging again. They all pumped their fists over their heads and shouted in unison, "Delta Rho!!" The audience echoed the cry, and broke into applause again.
The six boys around Leo backed away on the stage, as the other seven, including me, came together in front and bowed to the audience, and the audience responded with loud applause. The seven of us trotted off to the wings on either side, and the first six came forward, holding hands in two groups of three, for their bows. Larry and Emil backed away to make the four fraternity brothers who had made the show possible the focus of attention, and the applause grew louder, punctuated with shouts of "That was great, Grover!", "Thanks, Lindley!" and similar sentiments.
At last, the four fraternity brothers left, and Larry stepped up again and pointed at the true star of the show. He retreated then to the wings so that the audience could applaud Leo, still swinging slightly. And they did, with cheers mixed in, which now certainly Leo could no longer hear. That didn't matter. Leo had known, at the end, how well things had gone.
The curtain, finally, came down.
Maverick and I stood watching as Larry carefully lowered his end of the wheeled cart down from the curb to the level of the parking lot. Emil did the same at the other end of the cart.
Orson stood at a discreet distance, his hand in his pocket, on guard against the potential theft of the Academy's slaves.
The cart, borrowed from Delta Rho, held the jar of preserving fluid. Leo's head floated peacefully in it, a small smile on his face.
Emil, after watching to make sure nothing happened to the jar, turned back to me, and asked, "Is it always like this?"
I grinned. "It's always a little different, but as far as how people react to the shows, yeah, it's pretty much like this."
Emil's eyes were wide. "Gavin says he kicked for twenty-four minutes!"
I nodded. "We always hope for about twenty to twenty-five." I looked at Emil seriously. "I do want you to know Leo was one of the very best. This was the kind of show all of us dream about. You know fewer than half of the boys who enter wind up graduating, right?"
Emil nodded. "I remember Leo said that before he went. He was so excited about just getting in, but he was so adamant that he'd be one of the ones who made it through." Emil smiled. "He always worked so hard for what he wanted. I knew he'd do it."
I chuckled. "Yeah, that's Leo." The aroma of cooking kebabs drifted in from the fraternity's courtyard. "You sure you don't want to stay for the picnic?"
Emil sighed and looked toward the Delta Rho house, then squatted down and stroked the side of the jar. "We'll have a family party tonight. These boys..." He swept his arm toward the fraternity. "They have been so sweet, and I can't believe what they've done for me. Making me part of the play, letting me have Leo's head... and they've promised me the fur from one arm as well. And his mummified heart!" He goggled at me. "Wynn, they gave me his heart! But I want to be there with my family. I'd love to eat with these boys, but I can just manage one big meal tonight, and I want it to be with Daddy and my brothers. His brothers."
I smiled, and reached out to rub Emil's arm. "That makes perfect sense to me."
At the car, Larry and Gavin had maneuvered the jar into the back seat of the car, and Larry locked the seat belt around it as Gavin rolled the cart back to the fraternity house. Emil would be riding with the jar in the back seat, to make sure it travelled safely. Larry squatted now beside the open door of the car, leaned forward and kissed the side of the jar and rubbed his cheek against it. He said, "Bye, hon. You were fantastic today! I'll love you always." He kissed the jar once more, then stood.
Emil gave Larry a tight hug. "Thank you for being a brother for Leo when I couldn't be there."
Larry returned the squeeze. "Thank you for having such a great brother."
Emil turned to hug me as well, and then gave Maverick an especially warm hug. "Thank you again, for everything you did." Maverick smiled and said nothing.
Minutes later, Larry stood between Maverick and me. We all waved as the car rolled out of sight.
Larry sighed, then grinned. "Let's go eat some 'greek' food." He took our hands and led us back to Delta Rho house at a trot. Orson followed, looking relieved.