The Dean looked up and smiled as I entered. "I'm glad you came by, Wynn. I was going to call you here later today anyway."
I blinked in surprise as I sat down. "Yes, Sir?"
"I'll get to that in a minute. What have you got there?"
I placed the two things in his hand, and a hardwritten note on his desk in front of him. "Sir, could these be mailed to Kelly Sadler? Addressed directly to him, not his father?"
The Dean picked up the note and read it, looked at the other item, and nodded. "That's very thoughtful, and I'm sure he'll appreciate it." He set the things down in his in-box to give to Tina later. "Now, I actually had two reasons I was going to summon you. One is that I want you to swallow this capsule." He pushed two paper cups toward me, one containing a small capsule, the other filled with drinking water.
I nodded. "Yes, Sir." I upended the first of the cups, dumping the capsule into my mouth, and washed it down with the water. "Is this what I think it is?"
"If you think it's a slave tracker, yes. You're familiar with them?"
I snorted, amused by the irony. "I imagine you want to be able to find me in case my brother Andrew comes up with some way of kidnapping me. What's funny is that the reason I know about them is that Andrew made me swallow one once. Of course, that one's power source is long dead."
The Dean frowned. "So he knows about them too."
I nodded. "Yes, Sir, but remember he doesn't know we're onto him. Since no Hanging Boy has ever been kidnapped..." I looked at him questioningly, and went on when he nodded. "...he has no reason to think you'd plant tracking devices in any of us. But even if he does, there's nothing he can really do about it. In fact, if the idea does come into his head, he might give up on the whole plan."
The Dean shook his head. "Not safe to assume that."
"Oh, of course not, Sir. And I gather we're not going to assume he's taking me to his dungeon? We know where that is, so there'd be no need for the tracker if I ended up there." I was doubtful that the tracker could be detected from within the underground dungeon, but my progress on the way to it could be followed.
He nodded. "Correct. We're not assuming anything."
I sighed. I'd be so glad to get to my hanging; after that, Andrew could never again screw with my life. "What are the procedures going to be when I leave the grounds? Obviously you must be going to let me do that, or I wouldn't need the tracker." I felt relieved. I badly wanted an off-site hanging, as much like Marshall's as possible — or in fact, like the hanging of every Academy graduate except Maverick. And if Andrew's threat somehow denied me that possibility, I'd request the hiring of a hit squad to take him out. I thought about asking for that anyway, but felt doubtful the Dean would consider going quite that far.
The Dean smiled. "Hard to get anything past you. Yes, I'll be letting you leave here. Beyond the precaution of installing the slave tracker, I'll want you to go out with two bodyguards rather than one. For the time being, that will be the standard procedure for all off-site excursions, even when you aren't involved. I don't want it to look as though we are protecting you more than the other boys."
I smiled. "I do feel better, anyway. I think we're doing as much as we can. Oh!" A memory from the start of the conversation came back to me. "You said there were two reasons for seeing me?"
He nodded. "I'd considered telling you this earlier, but I didn't want to distract you during your preparations for Maverick's hanging. One of our club members — a predator — has purchased a 'first chance option' on you."
I frowned, puzzled. "Does that mean... well, it sounds like this person wants to be contacted if anyone else offers to buy me."
The Dean nodded. "He came in all set to buy you, but I told him you were not going to be available until early next summer. He does want to be contacted, yes. Now, you have the right to decline to be purchased by him, as with any other sale. He understands that."
"So I guess he knows me. Do I know him?" This person might be buying me on Andrew's behalf. Of course, that could be the case with any buyer. I shivered.
"You do, but he wishes not to reveal his identity to you so far in advance of your purchase. As I said, he's a member, and he doesn't wish to be treated any differently for the time being, by you or by any of the other boys."
My puzzlement increased. I felt I should be able to figure out who it was. Several names came to mind, but I discarded them all as "unlikely" for various reasons. The first, of course, had been Ted, but, aside from the buyer already having been identified as a predator, I was sure that Ted needed only his one Hanging Boy purchase — Larry. "Sir, could you... somehow check on the buyer's background? For any possible association with Andrew?"
The Dean smiled. "I'd thought about that. For your own peace of mind, I'll do some checking. But I can tell you upfront that I trust him. Does that help?"
I blinked. "Yes, Sir. Sir, why are you telling me about this now?"
He sat back, resting his head against his hand. "Wynn, you can't tell me you're not a little down right now. Maverick had an excellent hanging, and I know you're happy about that, but I'm sure it's hard, after watching someone so close to you reach his goal, to know that you still have a long wait before you can do the same. Knowing, now, that the wheels are in motion toward your hanging, if slowly, does that help you feel better?"
I felt a sudden excitement within me, hidden behind my fretting over Andrew. Someone does want to buy me, I told myself. And it's someone the Dean trusts! I grinned, letting the excitement foam up to the surface. "Yes, Sir. It does." I noticed the clock on the Dean's desk and gasped. "Oh! Sir, I have a class to teach in a few minutes. May I go?"
"Certainly." He patted his out-box. "And I'll see to it that Tina gets this into the mail today, to Kelly."
"Thank you, Sir."
I watched, a hundred emotions running through my head, as the students and graduates slowly assembled around me, facing me— or more accurately, facing the cloth covering on the wall.
It was getting crowded. Getting all of the students into the Party Room was one thing. In the party pavilion, there was plenty of room for all of them, and the only headache for anyone was maintaining security in that borderland between the Academy and the outside world. Here, in this relatively small, awkwardly-shaped room in the student area, the problem was finding a way to pack everyone in so they could all see.
Mr. Bennett, the assistant Dean, directed traffic as the students began assembling. He put the graduates in front, the students taking places behind them within view of the covering cloth, finding space as they were able, shoulders against shoulders. When nearly everyone was at last in place, I spoke, "I think it would work better if everybody kind of kneels down, except way in back where there's nobody behind you." I grinned. "I don't mean like you're bowing down to worship or something," I went on, and several boys laughed, "I'm just trying to make it easier for everyone to see."
With a lot of laughing and wisecracks, the students and grads knelt on the floor, the foremost ones scrunching down a little further, the ones farther back kneeling upright, the students farthest back standing.
Mr. Bennett turned to give the Dean a questioning look, and he nodded and spoke. "It seems we've been having several unique ceremonies lately. This one, today, will give all of you a first opportunity to see the permanent home of the person responsible for them." Several boys laughed, and several others applauded briefly.
He gestured to me, and I spoke again. "There were any number of places we could have put this. The Dean's first suggestion was the school's entry foyer, where anyone coming in would see the display right away.
"But Maverick wanted, very much, to be in the student area, but not just anywhere. Looking at everybody here now," I smiled as I looked at the students crammed into whatever space was available, "Obviously he could have picked a more convenient place." More laughs.
I cleared my throat, finding that my voice was becoming husky. "But this room was very, very special to Maverick. He often came here — sometimes I was with him, and sometimes he was by himself.
"Maverick had two life-changing experiences. One of them was the day he saw his Uncle Seymour hang, and that's the day Maverick decided to be a Hanging Boy; Seymour was a graduate of this Academy. And the other one happened here, in this room, the Hall of Honor."
I brushed away a tear. "To a lot of us, this room is inspiring but also a little sad. The boys whose heads are in this room... none of them graduated, though they all tried their hardest, and wanted to very much. We honor them, here, for their contributions to the Academy, but actually we hope very much not to end up here.
"Maverick didn't feel that way. When the Dean told Maverick that he wanted to establish a 'Wall of Fame' for Academy graduates whose surpassing ability led the Academy to stage a hanging for them on campus, Maverick insisted that it should be here. He wanted to spend his days looking at the boys whose sacrifice meant so much to him."
I palmed some more tears away, and continued, "So the Hall of Honor now includes the Wall of Fame, and here is its first occupant."
I pulled at the cord, and the cloth came away. Maverick's head, smiling, was revealed in its niche. Over the last few days, I had come by periodically to watch as the carpenters and electricians constructed the display case. Maverick's case was recessed into the wall, its sides and back made of a light-colored wood, smoothly varnished, softly lit at the top and sides. It faced two rows of the standard cubbyholes for those permanently residing in the Hall of Honor. A plaque beneath his head read,
MAVERICK SADLER
Graduate of the Hanging Academy
Hanged for the members of the Academy Club
There were several gasps, and I heard a murmured, "Oh, that's pretty!" before the assembled students and graduates burst into prolonged applause.
Tears now streaming, I leaned in and kissed Maverick on the cheek, whispering, "You're home now, babe."
I stroked Jack's hip fondly, holding him as we lay on the bed. Jack's fur was still soaked with sweat from our earlier lovemaking. I sensed something waiting to be said. "Okay, what is it?"
Jack giggled, moving his head forward to kiss me. "I guess I'm making too big a deal of it. But it's just always hard to say, you were right and I was wrong."
I blinked. "About what?"
"Back when you said you wanted to room with Maverick. And I tried so hard to talk you out of it. I just didn't know you well enough then. Or him, obviously."
I had no need to ask Jack why he was saying this now. The last days before a hanging often brought a lot of secrets out. "Well, nobody knew him. And remember, he and I did go through, uhh, kind of a tough time."
Jack waved the point away. "Nothing you couldn't handle. Anyway, I've been waiting for a chance to tell you that, without Shaw being in the room." Shaw was spending the night with Zuchter. They'd become close while working together with Maverick on Zuchter's bound-feet hanging program, and it gave Marcus and Holden a rare night alone together. Tomorrow night would be Shaw's alone time with Jack before Jack's hanging. "I don't think he knows how hard I tried to argue you out of saving him."
I shook my head. "You know that's not what you were trying to do. You just cared about me and thought I was being really stupid. And I love you for that." I gave Jack a long kiss, and felt his arms tighten around me. We were ready to make love again.
Two Days Later
I shook my head in amazement, remembering that day when the rest of my entering class had arrived to take up residence in the First Year dorm at the Academy. I had a clear memory of meeting Jack that day, trading introductions, liking him immediately.
Today Jack had The Glow.
There was a cool, crisp breeze riffling my shorts as I stood waiting for the limo at the front of the Academy building, with Shaw and Jack — and with Bruno, the huge panther bodyguard whose eyes swept up and down the street, no less attentive than if he were in the presidential guard detail.
Jack was wearing shorts and a muscle shirt in a soft creme color, complementing his sandy-colored fur. He turned to me, grinning. "It's supposed to be warmer later. This will be perfect! Look at the sky! No clouds anywhere."
Shaw seemed to be imitating Bruno, his eyes flicking from side to side — not nervously, more in curiosity. "What should we be looking for, Wynn?"
I laughed. "Well, gee, if only we knew that, it would make everything a lot easier. I'm kind of doubtful of seeing a band of wild-eyed men waving guns. That's not Andrew's style."
Jack suggested, "We should be watching the manhole covers. He'd travel by sewer, right?"
I bent double, laughing so hard I couldn't breathe for a moment. At last I was able to gasp, "So you know why he can't keep a boyfriend!"
The limo pulled up in front, Karl driving. Bruno opened the doors, second and third from the front, and we tossed our bags into the rearmost seat, then piled together into the seat behind Karl — Shaw first, me last, with Jack in the middle. Bruno pushed the door closed, opened the one in front and took his place beside Karl. Shaw and I each took one of Jack's hands in both of ours. I kissed the back of Jack's hand. "You really look great, hon."
Jack smiled and sighed. "Everything feels really right. I was just thinking that's the most important part of the training. Not learning how to hang, but convincing yourself that you're ready to do it. That you have an ability and it won't let you down."
Shaw nodded seriously. "Learning how was, like, the first six months. Everything after that was for the confidence. Well, and style."
I nodded. "Style. That helps with the confidence too."
Jack looked up to the limo ceiling. "Confidence!" he shouted. "That must be what's getting me hard!" The rest of us laughed.
Shaw and I sat at the picnic table, smelling the aroma of roasting duck. Shaw remarked on how well Jack had done. "Twenty-five minutes. I'm thinking the average is getting higher lately. But really, anything over twenty is fine."
I agreed. I was glad that Jack hadn't sacrificed any of the most crowd-pleasing elements to try to increase his time. I had worried a little that graduates might set their sights on Maverick's new benchmark, but decided that the pride any graduate took in displaying his style would always take priority. "I don't think the audience pays that much attention to the time anyway. What gets them off is the moves we do."
Shaw wrinkled his nose. "It's funny, I was just thinking you're the only boy I've ever roomed with at the Academy who's still alive." He blinked suddenly and looked horrified at himself. "I'm so sorry! I know it's hard, having to wait so long for your own hanging."
I smiled and shrugged my shoulders. "I'm okay with it, really. I've got plenty to do, working with the boys," meaning Marcus, Zuchter, and Holden. "And it's so fun to watch them when they're working out new stuff. They get so serious about it."
Shaw smiled. "I know, I've seen them. Are you going to room with them when I'm gone?"
I nodded. "There are some boys in our own class who'll be fun to spend some nights with, but we're all kind of vanishing like soap bubbles now. I want to get back to a stable roommate situation." I grinned suddenly, and kissed Shaw. "No offense, please. I love you, but I've been losing all these roommates lately, and you're about to go too. It'll just feel good to get to say, okay, I'll live with these boys the rest of my life."
"Oh, no offense taken! I understand totally."
I caught some movement out of the corner of my eye. "Oh! They're bringing out the food. I am so hungry."