"What kind of pressure?"
"The usual," Obie said. How to describe Archie's methods to a stranger? "Archie Costello doesn't like physical violence. But in this case—"
"Violence was used, right?" Ray said, dismayed, head in a whirl. A couple of hours ago he hadn't known anything about Trinity, was a complete outsider. And now this kid named Obie was here in his home, telling him crazy things about the place.
Obie shrugged. "A kind of violence. A boxing match. Between Renault and Emile Janza—"
"The animal I just met at school?" Ray asked. Mimicking Janza's tight-lipped delivery: "Show me a card trick, kid."
"Right," Obie said, a flicker of amusement in his eyes.
"And the Renault kid got beat up, right?" Ray asked.
"Right," Obie said reluctantly. "Look, the kid was hurt, but he survived. Actually, he was a tough little character. They say he went to Canada to recuperate." Obie paused. "Anyway, that's all over now. The chocolate sale was a success. The Headmaster retired. And Brother Leon became top man. . "
"All's well that ends well," Ray Bannister said, wondering if Obie detected the sarcasm in his voice.
"Right," Obie said heartily, slapping his hands against his sides. Then frowned. "But. ."
"But what?" Ray prompted.
"The thing rocked the school," Obie said, putting into words what he had avoided for so long. "That night. The kids calling for blood. Renault's blood. The chocolates became more important than anything else, more important than a kid's blood. . "
I wish we had stayed in Caleb, Ray Bannister thought.
"And now," Obie continued, "it's as if those chocolates exploded last fall and we're walking around in the 'leftovers, the crap. See what I mean? Everybody being careful, playing it cool."
"Like you've all got a guilty conscience?" Ray offered.
"Right," Obie agreed. But uncomfortable now, wondering if he had said too much.
"How about that club — the Vigils? They still playing it cool?"
"Well, not exactly," Obie said.
Which brought him to his reason for being here in Bay Bannister's house. To introduce him to the Vigils and how it worked.
Poor Jerry Renault, Obie thought suddenly.
And now poor Ray Bannister. About to learn the facts of life at Trinity High School.
In this corner, Archie Costello, five feet nine and a half inches tall, one hundred forty pounds, unchallenged champion of Trinity High School. Champion of what? Of all he surveyed — the classrooms, the corridors, the campus, his power extending even into the residence where Brother Leon and the other faculty members lived.
In that corner, the opposite corner, Brother Leon, formerly Assistant Headmaster of Trinity High School, now full-fledged Headmaster, ruler of the school, the faculty, the curriculum, the extracurricular activities, responsible for (and ruling) 387 students between the ages of thirteen and eighteen (with the exception of Richard O'Brien, who had turned nineteen on the fourth of April). Brother Leon of the pale face, the quick and sudden classroom movements in which a student was usually the loser, struck with a teacher's pointer or a piece of chalk flying across the room faster than a speeding bullet. Brother Leon. Whose eyes could flash with malice or quicken with a cold intelligence in which there wasn't an ounce of pity or mercy. Brother Leon of the swift short steps, who had gone moderately mod these days. His thinning hair threatened to cover his collar at the back. Sideburns dropped to his ear-lobes. He wore a silver chain, from which dangled a cross so fancy that you had to squint to make certain it was a cross. Brother Leon, who sometimes seemed a bit ridiculous to Archie. Which didn't deny the fact that Leon could also be dangerous.
And now, gentlemen, step to the center of the ring. .
There was no ring, of course, except in Archie's mind He often thought about Brother Leon as he strolled the grounds of Trinity and stopped at the far end of the parking lot, from which point he could inspect the rear of the brothers' residence. Leon's private study, to which students were summoned occasionally, looked out on the parking lot Archie enjoyed standing there, sensing that Leon was hidden behind the stiff white curtain drawn across the window pane. In his mind he was the champion and Leon the challenger, although on the surface one would suppose that Leon had the upper hand. Archie, a student; Leon, the Headmaster. In any contest, the Headmaster would be sure to emerge victorious, wouldn't he? Wouldn't he? Ah, but not according to Archie. Not according to the gospel of Trinity as written by Archie Costello.
Now he stood at that particular spot, glancing up at the residence, not knowing what he was looking for. Certainly not a confrontation with Leon. Archie realized that he and Leon had not talked or even run into each other for weeks. Leon was famous for surprise visits to classrooms, but he either avoided or did not happen to enter any of Archie's classes. Once in a while Archie saw Leon at a distance, across the campus or on the stage of the assembly hall or getting into a car. But their paths never crossed. Accident or design? Archie didn't know and didn't care. He kept his emotions under control, in cold storage, in neutral. He allowed himself measures of enjoyment — for instance, in the car with one of the girls from Miss Jerome's School across town — but always holding a part of himself aloof, never letting go completely. He enjoyed what he saw in the eyes of the other students when he directed his attention to them — fear, apprehension, resentment. He was aware of how others felt about him, but frankly, he paid only passing attention, preferred not to think about other people. People thought too much, anyway. Or talked too much.
Once in a while he expressed his thoughts to Obie. Obie was the only person he allowed into his privacy. But not recently. He and Obie had grown apart. No, that was wrong, not grown apart They had been pulled apart by that girl, all that nonsense of Obie being in love. Love, for crissakes. Obie of all people. Although he hated to admit it to himself, Archie missed the talks with Obie. He could bounce ideas off Obie although Obie was unaware of what Archie was doing. Obie was so normal, so regular, so average, so typical of what a high school guy was like, that Archie, by being close to Obie, knew all the time what the school was thinking. Okay, so he used Obie. But wasn't that what life was all about? Using? Just as Obie, no doubt, used him, used his proximity to the Assignor of the Vigils to set him apart from, probably above, the other students.
The afternoon was dying, turning the campus into long shadows, hidden doorways, bushes and shrubbery hugging the residence, many places now for people to hide. Archie always envisioned lurkers, predators, watchers in the shadows or around corners, peeking out of windows, waiting behind closed doors. That was why he always stood tense, alert, at the ready, keen, eyes shifting, on guard under his exterior of coolness. It was a rotten world, full of treachery and evil, and you had to be on your toes at all times, ready for combat, to outfox, outwit, outdeal everybody else. Archie endorsed the graffiti he had once seen scrawled on a downtown brick walclass="underline" Do Unto Others, Then Split.
He heard the footsteps behind him at the same moment the voice reached his ears.
"Are you expecting an apparition, Costello?"
Archie didn't turn but winced slightly, instantly humiliated by allowing Brother Leon to creep up and surprise him. He didn't like to be surprised, particularly by Leon. He remained still, waiting for Leon to swing around and come into his view. Which Leon did, a satisfied look on his face, as if he had gained some kind of advantage. Leon was dressed in his black and whites, black suit, stiff white collar.
The campus was still. A car with a ruptured muffler violated the air far down the street.
"You're lurking late here, aren't you, Costello?" Leon asked.