The clock just turned to midnight. In other words, it’s time. I’m waiting by the window in my house. I live in a nice neighborhood. There are lots of trees and kids around. Everyone keeps their yards looking real spiffy, and Emily and I have a nice garden in the backyard. It’s too dark to see any of this now, so I’m pretty much just staring at the street. I’m looking at the part that the streetlight is illuminating, hoping that some squirrel stops by to eat a nut, or that some leaves blow by like a tornado.
I’m looking out the window waiting for my friends to come along. We’re going out tonight to this special gathering. It only happens twice a year. It’s called the Scum Stomping and it’s the first one I’m going to go to. My three friends have all been to one before. Jay has gone to five, I think. Maybe only four. I’ve been really busy with college, so I haven’t been able to attend one with them. They’re happy that I can come now that I’ve finished up my graduate work. I’m going to be a social worker.
I don’t know much about Scum Stomping. My friends told me that there are these terrible people. They hurt others but never get in trouble for it. There’s also some who are poor. They spend all their money on drugs and alcohol. They’re a huge problem and nobody can stand them. These people live in their own communities now. I guess a long time ago they lived amongst the common people. People like me and my friends. That must have been horrible! I’ve never seen a poor person, but I’ve heard they look horrible. They have big, black eyes. The whiteness around their eyes is gone; it’s blood red instead. Their skin is dry and thick like hardened mud. Oh, and I heard that they don’t have noses or ears; they have holes instead.
They have weird traditions. They never shave their beards or wash their bodies. James says it’s the practice of their cult. They worship some weird god being and their religion is pretty corrupt. They won’t work because of it. It’s against the commands of their god to uphold a steady job. Some say that they’re just lazy, though. All I know is that they don’t even sound human. I guess that makes them pretty bad. So on Scum Stomping day, a ton of people go and attack the poor communities. They drive them out of their makeshift homes. Some people hurt them, but I’m not comfortable with that.
The van is finally here. Eddy said to pack light so that the poor people wouldn’t steal our stuff. I have a water canteen, a pack of matches, and a piece of plywood. I’m wearing jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt. I pull the hood over my hair and walk out the door.
It’s pretty cold out. I’m thinking how dumb these poor people are living outside in this weather. People make really dumb choices, I guess. They follow dumb religions. James slides open the van door. He looks pretty happy. I get in the right seat of the middle row. It’s Jay’s car. I sit on something wet. It’s a juicebox, probably from one of Jay’s kids. He says he’s sorry and that the car’s a mess. He looks pretty stressed. Eddy looks pretty worried, but he says “hello” and asks me how I’m doing. I say that I’m fine.
It’s a long ride to the gathering point, so James decides that we should share stories. He tells us why he loves Scum Stomping. The poor people are taking away our money. The government pays for them to survive and it comes out of our paychecks, he says. They’re barely human, he says. We don’t pay our dogs, so why pay them? I guess he has a point.
Jay says that poor people are a bad influence. They steal and drink and smoke. They’re too inhumane and uncivilized. He thinks they’re holding back evolution.
Eddy says they stole his groceries once when he was pushing his cart to his car. Some poor guy jumped out from behind a vehicle and shoved him over and took the cart. Eddy followed him and eventually found the cart on the side of the road, empty. The poor guy left all the vegetables. Eddy says that’s because they don’t eat healthy and only want food’s instant taste pleasures. Eddy says that a poor guy stole his shoes too. He’s been missing his favorite pair of black shoes for a month now. It was probably the same poor guy, he says.
It’s my turn but I don’t have anything to say. They say that it’s O.K. and that I’ll finally see how terrible these people are once we get to the gathering point.
We pull into a dirt road in the woods. Jay dims the car headlights and starts driving more slowly. We go over a hill and I see hundreds of little lights. We park next to some other cars and quickly get out of the car and into the dark woods. Jay is wearing a light jacket and brown pants. Eddy is dressed like me. James has full cameo on along with boots and a baseball cap. He’s carrying a hunting knife.
We walk down a slight hill towards the lights. Hundreds of people are there, all murmuring quietly. They have flashlights and lanterns. A lot of them have objects in their hands, which I think are various types of weapons. We wait for almost an hour. I look at my watch. It’s two in the morning. Why am I not tired?
Some tall man gets up on a boulder and starts yelling. He wants the group to break into four smaller…well…patrols as he calls them. Everyone starts to move and I follow my friends. Jay is breathing pretty deeply. So is Eddy. James is the opposite. He looks excited and angry. The tall man yells again. This time he is making a speech. I’m not really paying attention. It’s cold and I’m thinking about how nice it must be at home right now. I wonder if Emily misses me. She’s probably asleep like she was when I left.
Jay hits me in the back. The crowd is moving, and he’s alerting me. I didn’t even notice. We move slowly and most of the talking has died down. The woods are black and all I can see are the backs of the people in front of me. Some guy is wearing a bright yellow jacket, and I’m thinking how dumb he was to put that on before coming here. All I can hear is the crunching of feet on the ground and the occasional howl of a wolf.
Suddenly, the remaining soft whispers turn to silence. The slow walking turns to a standstill. I try to look between the people in front of me to see what’s going on. I can’t make out much. There’s a big camp up ahead. It looks like a bunch of tents with torches stuck in the ground at various points. They’re lighting up the ground and tents around them, sort of like the streetlights in my neighborhood. The tents are set up in rows, as if they’re houses. I thought that was funny.
Suddenly we start to move again, this time faster. We’re going into the camp. The poor neighborhood. People are pointing their lights at the ground. We keep moving faster, yet we’re not truly running. We reach the edge of the camp. The four groups split. My group goes to the right side of the camp. We keep walking until we get to the last tent, then we stop. Someone from our groups takes out some matches. I don’t understand why until he strikes the match and throws it at the tent. Nothing happens. Nobody moves. The edge of the tent starts smoldering, but it looks like it’s about to go out. The guy that threw the match motions to another man. The other man takes out a bottle of alcohol and moves over to the small flame. He says something softly. I think he says to give them what they want. Some other guy chimes in and says to kill them with their own medicine. The man with the alcohol bottle dumps it on the flame and runs. The tent explodes in flame.
I start to panic. Suddenly a bunch of tents are going up in fire. The group splits up and starts running like mad everywhere all around the tents. The guy that threw the match also has some long piece of metal that looks like a pipe. He starts beating another tent with it. Then the screaming starts. It’s everywhere but nowhere. I can’t pinpoint it but it’s all around me. I run into the middle of the camp. I can’t even think straight. I see people crawling out of the tents. It’s too dark to see what they look like but they must be the poor people. Some guy runs out of tent and one of my people smacks him in the face with a crowbar. I cringe. I don’t feel safe. I run more, trying to dodge all of the fighting. I’m trying to find someone else who is here for their first time. Maybe we can talk about it. Try to figure out how to get involved. I see James. He’s far away but I can make out his body because of that hat he’s wearing. I yell to him, but he’s not listening. I see him chasing a few people and waving his knife. I’m glad he’s not stabbing them.
I’m scared to death that I’ll run into a poor person. Their disgusting faces will probably mentally scar me. They’ll probably bite me or try to kill me. I don’t know why I came. I don’t want to be around these strange creatures.
Eddy is on the ground in front of me. He’s screaming and it looks like his arm is gashed open. He’s saying how one of the poor people stabbed him. Another guy is with Eddy and telling people what happened. Eddy tried to hit one of the poor people so they stabbed him back. One guy yells that this time these people are getting out of hand. That they’re gaining confidence and getting violent. I see what he means. Sometimes I yell at my dog, but I would never expect it to yell back.
Eddy sees me and tells me to do something. He tells me to stop standing around and teach the scumbags a lesson. I tell him that I will try and run away. I start looking for Jay when suddenly I trip. I fall right on top of someone. He groans and I roll off of him. I look at his face and he stares right back at me. He looks petrified. His arm is limp and his sleeve is burned. I think he’s part of my group, but he yells at me to get away. I tell him that it’s ok and that I’m not a poor person. I ask him if he needs help. He doesn’t respond. I ask him again and he says to leave him alone. He starts to stand up and I get a glimpse of his shoes. They’re black, like Eddy’s. I grab his leg and pull him down.
He falls into the dirt and now he can’t get up. His arm must be broken because he can’t push himself up to his feet. He’s panting and starts to cry. He’s forcing air between his teeth. I pull him closer and tell him to stay still. He does. I crawl over a bit and look at his face. It’s shaven. His eyes are blue, just like Emily’s. He has a nose and ears like I do, and his skin is smooth. Dirty, but smooth underneath the grime. He’s crying, and it sounds human. I keep staring at him and his tears clean the dirt off of his face. I don’t understand. I need to know.
I stand up and pull him up too. I help him limp out the camp and into the woods. I keep walking and he keeps staggering. We’re both breathing deeply, almost in rhythm. He says he hears it. I ask what and then I hear it too. It’s moving water. It’s getting closer and suddenly we fall into it. It’s cold and shallow. I drag myself out of the stream and he follows. We sit on the side of the stream and I start making a fire with the leaves. We just keep sitting there and I keep staring at his face. The more I stare the more it looks like mine. I ask him his name and he says it’s John. I say that his name seems normal and he looks at me, confused. I ask him if he lives in the camp and he says he does. He doesn’t seem to want to talk. He smells like fire.
I look away for a few minutes and he asks me when I’m going to kill him. I’m shocked and say that I won’t. He says that I should. That he wants to be with his mother and father in heaven. I find it weird that their cult has a heaven, just like my religion does. I ask him how his parents got to heaven and he says that he doesn’t know. He says he never met them. He says that he used to live in things called “foster homes” before they got shut down. I ask him what they are and he says hell. I would have asked more questions, but I’m too focused on where his drugs are and how drunk he could be at the moment. I feel so weird treating this man kindly when everyone else hates him. I tell him to take all the drugs out of his pockets and throw them in the water. He says he has none. I’m feeling tough and grab his coat and rip it off of him. I go through the pockets and they’re empty, so I throw the coat back at him.
I hear yelling and we both turn. He says it’s the guys from the camp coming to hide, and that I better take off. I could care less. I’m confused that his breath doesn’t smell like booze. I say that I better find my car. I don’t know why, but I don’t want to leave. I give John my matches and my water. I have a few bucks with me and give him all of it. He thanks me and I start running.
The woods are quickly flying by me. They suddenly feel like a home away from home. I don’t understand why the more I learn, the more confused I get. The more I see, the more foreign the next room feels. It’s getting bright out, but slowly. My watch says that it’s five in the morning. I’m back at the camp and it’s burning. Someone is yelling my name. It’s Jay. I run to him and he starts yelling at me and asking where I’ve been. I tell him I got lost. We run back to the car and jump in. Eddy is in the passenger seat and James is in the back.
Eddy has a cloth around his bleeding arm and James looks tired and scared. I ask him what his problem is. Eddy tells me that James was the one that cut his arm. James flips out and says that he thought Eddy was a poor person. Jay tells them to shutup. The ride home is silent.
Jay drops me off last and I tell him that I don’t want to go to the next Scum Stomping. I say that it was nice to try but it’s not for me. He says he understands. He wishes me a good night and drives off.
I walk to my house across the grass. I look into the darkened window and look at myself. My face is bloody and dirty. My hands are dry. My ear is cut. My eyes are dark in the shadowed window reflection. My clothes are stained and torn. I walk back to the street and sit on the curb. The light is forcing itself through the clouds, but I can still see in the light of the street lamp. I don’t want to go inside. I want to look around. I want to breathe the air and feel part of it. Feel and smell of nature. It’s uncomfortably cold outside, but I want to stay there and sit just to feel what it’s like.
