"THE [AW OF THE [AND by Wayne Thomas Batson Jeremy waved his hand in the air like a castaway who had just spotted a rescue plane. The teacher’s question hung in the air, and he knew the answer. Containing it was simply out of the question. “Mrs. Pugglefish, the answer is—” “No calling out, Jeremy Townsend!” the elderly teacher scolded, her voice like an out of tune banjo. “You did not wait for me to call on you!” “But, I raised my hand,” Jeremy replied meekly. “Yes, you did. But, for the third time today you called out—WITHOUT WAITING FOR ME TO CALL ON YOU!” Jeremy felt like a puppy who'd just been swatted with a newspaper. “But, Mrs. Pugglefish, I knew the answer,” he mumbled. Mrs. Pugglefish turned. Her eyes narrowed, and the wrinkles around her eyes deepened, turning into quivering streaks of pinkish lightning. “Yes, Jeremy, I’m sure you did know the answer,” she said, “...as did the other ten students who were waiting patiently to be called on. They followed the rules; you did not!” J slumped down in his chair, glaring up at the teacher with hot anger bubbling up inside him like a pressure cooker. “Rules,” he whispered to himself, thinking that no one could hear him. “I hate rules.” Mrs. Pugglefish might well have been older than dirt, as some students suggested, but her hearing was quite keen, She peered over her thick glasses at Jeremy as if looking down the barrel of a canon. “Hate rules?” she hissed. “For that, young man, you'll be staying with me tomorrow afternoon for detention!” Jeremy sank even lower in his chair. This time he said nothing out loud but, with his inner voice, he screamed, “I HATE RULES'!!” Lessons, Text, and Activities ©2012 Wayne Thomas BatsonLater that afternoon, just as Jeremy emerged from the wooded path that led from the school to his neighborhood, Jeremy saw a green and brown mini-van parked outside his house, Mom’s home early, he thought. He walked casually up the front steps, swung open the front door—without closing it—and walked straight into the kitchen for an after school snack. Jeremy was bent over and had his head and most of his upper body in the refrigerator when his mother walked into the kitchen. “Jeremy, did you leave the front door open?” asked Jeremy's mother who had quietly entered the kitchen after Jeremy. “Uh, yeah...Mom,” he answered, still craning his neck to examine every single item in the fridge. Deciding on just the right after school snack was an important decision after all. “Please turn around and look at me,” Mrs. Townsend said. “I really don’t enjoy talking to your rear end.” Jeremy grumbled but obeyed. “Honey, the air conditioning is on,” she said. “You know what a waste of electricity that is.” Jeremy certainly did know. She had lectured him on the subject eleven million times. Eleven million and one, he corrected himself mentally. “Okay, Mom. I'll close it next time,” he said, retreating once more into the open fridge. “Jeremy! Why don't you think about what you want BEFORE you open the refrigerator. That way you won't be letting all the cold out!” Jeremy finally emerged from the fridge with a plate of cold cuts in his hand anda very puzzled look on his face. Cold air, sheesh! he thought. More stupid rules. Like cold air is gold or something. First the front door; now the fridge. Then, he had a funny thought. “Check this out, Mom. See, I had the fridge open to cool down the kitchen—making up for all the cold air I let escape out the front door!” Jeremy grinned smugly. Lessons, Tera, and Acthities ©2012 Wayne Thomas Batson“Very funny, young man,” his mother laughed. “But, seriously, Son, be more careful and try not to be so wasteful. You know the family rules.” “Boy, do I,” he mumbled. “What?” “Uh...oh, nothing,” Jeremy said. “Nothing. Sorry.” After his mother left the kitchen, Jeremy found a great after school snack. Declaring this particular Thursday afternoon “Sandwichfest,” he built a towering triple-decker “Dagwood Special.” Roast beef, seasoned turkey, lettuce, tomato, pickles, onion, and mustard—three full layers of it. Yum. Jeremy polished off the massive sandwich, patted his newly full stomach, and glanced at the clock. “Crud,” he muttered, He hopped up from the table and bolted for the front door. He had told his best friend, Alli Greene, to meet him at the fort they had built in the woods a few hundred yards from the school. “Jeremy!” his mom called down from upstairs. “Yeah, Mom!?” “Be home by 5:30, and don’t go over to that old shopping center. Your father and I don't like the kind of people who hang around over there! Remember our family rules!” “Okay, Mom!” he yelled, thinking, I can’t take any more rules. Jeremy walked out of the house feeling very frustrated, his anger simmering and ready to hit a rolling boil. But he did remember to shut the front door. Jeremy walked briskly along the winding path that led to their fort. He kicked stones, branches, cans, and whatever else came before his feet as he stomped up the woodchip path. “Do this! Don't do that! Everyone’s always telling me what to do!” he thought aloud and kicked up an especially shiny black stone. essons Tels and Activites ©2012 Wayne Thomas Baton“It doesn’t matter what I do,” he rambled on. “I always end up breaking somebody's dumb rules! I just can’t believe I’m going to have to spend a whole hour after school with Mrs, Puggleface. That's just great! Mom and Dad are gonna kill me when they find out.” Jeremy muttered on like that, kicking the shiny black stone along like a soccer ball, until he accidentally kicked it off the path. At least he thought he had. It wobble- rolled in a sharp right turn off the path and into some low fern plants. Jeremy kind of liked the stone, and he was curious, so he stepped off of the path to retrieve it. A few steps into the plants, he spotted the stone. It shined like a polished eight ball. As he bent down to pick it up, Jeremy noticed that the ferns grew over what looked like an old path. He grabbed the stone, stood up, and made a face. After all, he’d lived near these woods his entire life and he’d never once noticed the path before. Plenty of other paths, sure. But not this one. Jeremy glanced back over his shoulder. Alli would understand, so he set off on the new path, wondering where it would lead him. After five minutes of meandering deeper into the wood, he came to a fence made of wooden posts connected by two strands of barbed wire. On it, hung a large black sign with big red letters. KEEP OUT! This is private property. No Trespassing! ‘And yet, the path clearly went on beyond the fence. Who knew where it might lead? Certainly a story worth telling. But that meant defying the sign. Breaking the rules. “Hal” Jeremy thought smugly. “This is one rule that’s going to be broken!” He stepped gingerly between the wire, carefully unhooking his shirt from one of the barbs. Carrying the black stone in his left hand, he continued on the path for about another five minutes until it ended. The path didn’t lead to some hidden mansion, or to a buried treasure, or even to a pile of old tires and beer cans. It led to a hole. A rather large hole at that. It looked to Jeremy as if it had been dug by a gopher the size of a cow. He leaned over carefully to look into the shadowy mouth of the hole. It appeared to be quite deep. Suddenly, the black stone began to vibrate in Jeremy's hand. Lessons, Tents, aod Activities ©2012 Wayne Thomas Batson“What in the world—?” Jeremy blurted out. But the stone’s pulsing grew in strength. It almost felt like it was trying to wriggle free of his hand. Jeremy squeezed it tighter, and that was when it popped up out of his grasp, arced through the air, and vanished into the hole. “Boogers and cheese!” Jeremy shouted. He stepped to the hole’s edge and craned his neck to see. There was no sign as to where the stone might have landed. For all Jeremy knew this might be one of the famous bottomless pits of the world. Against his better judgment, he stooped down and reached into the hole. As he did, some dirt gave way under his feet and he lost his balance. With a desperate yelp, he toppled head first into the gaping hole. Jeremy felt himself roll once. ‘Then, there was a terrifying moment of weightlessness. Hammering heartbeats later, Jeremy's head struck something hard. Darkness took him, and he did not awaken for a long, long time, Pure darkness. Now, not quite as dark. A small circle of gray, widening now to a much lighter hazy image—What....what am I looking at? Is it a face? “Hey, wake up! Is yous all right?” came a voice like a distant echo into Jeremy's mind. “Huh?” was all Jeremy could manage as he sat up rubbing the welt on his head carefully. When his eyes cleared a little more, he saw the owner of the voice, bending over looking at Jeremy with concern. “That's quite a bump yous got there!” said the young man who looked to be about Jeremy's age. “Most’a the kids aren't as clumsy on the stairs, y-know? And uh, hey it’s none of my business, but why would you want to go up there ?” He pointed sharply up behind Jeremy. Jeremy turned and almost injured his neck jerking around to take in the colossal tree behind him. It reached up into the clouds so that he couldn’t even see the upper limbs. Directly behind him, he saw a doorway which had been cut right into the tree, Lessons, Tents, and Actives ©2012 Wayne Thomas Bation“Where am 1?” Jeremy asked feeling a little sick to his stomach. “What do you mean?” answered the boy, puzzled. “How hard did you hit yer head?” “Seriously,” Jeremy said, feeling very nervous. “I don’t know this place. Where are we?” “Why you're in Y’Chrana, of course.” “Ya-Whatta?” “Y’ Chrana, silly. Where did you think you was?” Jeremy felt a little more sick. “I thought I was in Maryland.” The boy took a deep breath and put his hand up to his mouth. He looked around frantically and then yanked Jeremy to his feet. “Ouch! That hurt!” Jeremy complained. “Quick, let’s get away from the door before someone sees us and wonders about you.” The boy ran off with Jeremy in tow until they came to a bench far from the Tree Stair. “What's going on?” Jeremy asked. “Nah, nah, we're safe now. Just needed to get yous away from the tree. The other kids wouldn’t care so much, but not everybody's so nice.” “Who are you?” asked Jeremy. “Neil,” he said. “What's your name?” “rm Jeremy. Jeremy Townsend.” He stared over his shoulder. “Can you tell me please, how can I get back home?” “You mean back up the stair?” Neil asked, the surprise etched comically on his face. “Up there...that Mary place?” “Yes,” Jeremy said. “Maryland.” Neil scratched behind his ear. “Uh, I can tell you, but...well, why would yous want to go back? I’ve heard it’s a terrible place to live!” “It’s not that, bad,” Jeremy muttered defensively. “But, ain’t they got rules up there?” “Rules?” Jeremy echoed. The anger rushed back like a lava flood. “Yeah...we have rules. Lots and lots of rules.” Lessons Tets, and Actitos ©2012 Wayne Thomas BatsonNeil shook his head sadly. “That’s just what I mean, Who can live ina place like that? Down here in Y’Chrana, we don’t got no rules.” “No rules at all?”Jeremy gasped. “Course not,” Neil said proudly. “People ‘round here just does whatever they ‘wants to.” Jeremy thought to himself that this “Y’Chrana” might be worth exploring. After all, Neil had said he could show the way home. A quick look around couldn’t hurt. “C'mon, Jeremy!” Neil urged. “I'll take you over to my house to get some lunch.” Jeremy hesitated, but only for a moment. “Rules, schmooles,” he said. “That's the spirit,” Neil said, and he set off toward the nearby road. As they walked, Jeremy looked around. They had entered a town of some kind, likely a suburban neighborhood. They passed many houses and buildings of all shapes and sizes. Not one building looked anything like the others. Some of the homes weren’t finished, far from it. A sloppy throng of construction workers were sleeping in the front yard of one of these unfinished buildings. “I feel bad,” Jeremy said. “Why? You sick?” “No,” Jeremy explained. “I feel bad for the people who bought those new houses. The construction workers will take forever to finish them if they sleep so much.” “True, true,” Neil said. “But can’t force’em to work any harder. That would be like rules, y'know? Oh, and those ain't new houses. At least ten years old.” “Oh,” Jeremy said. Before long, he had another question. “Neil, why does the sky look greenish instead of blue?” “Oh, it looks blue in the morning, but after all them factories start up, pumpin’ all that pollution into the sky, well, the sky can look pretty disgusting, You think that’s bad, you should see the water we swim in!” “But, don’t you get sick of all the pollution?”Jeremy asked. “Lot’s of people do. Some die. But, that’s the way its got to be. We can't tell the factory people what to do.” Jeremy swallowed. He pictured the creek back home where he used to swim in the summer. Then he pictured it full of trash and chemicals. Leeson, Tents, and Actives ©2012 Wayue Thomas BatsonThey trod on another two blocks when Jeremy stopped in his tracks. There were children floating around a playground. Not jumping up and down, but floating like hot air balloons in the Thanksgiving Day Parade. The kids were pushing each other around, floating from the top of the sliding board to the jungle gym and everywhere in between. “What? How?” Jeremy stuttered. “They...they...they’re up in the air?” “Them? Oh, their just playing. Y’see here, we don’t have to pay attention to the Jaw of gravity, unless we wants to.” Jeremy whispered, “No rules...” “I'll show you how to do that later, if you want,” Neil said with a wink. Jeremy blinked stupidly and stared. Y’Chrana was a fantastic place. At last they came to Neil’s house. The weeds had overgrown the stairs and were nearly as tall as the grass in their front yard. Nobody's cut this yard recently, Jeremy thought. No rules...no chores...no worries. Neil and Jeremy stepped through the front door, which was already wide open, pouring cold air outdoors. They walked into the kitchen and found the refrigerator also wide open. Jeremy couldn’t help but smile. “Look around in the fridge,” Neil commanded. “You might find something that hasn't spoiled. If it’s green, blue, or has fuzz on it, don’t eat it!” Jeremy's smile vanished. After sitting down at Neil’s kitchen table to cautiously eat a few stale doughnuts, they heard voices from the other room. “My parents,” Neil said. Jeremy didn’t mean to eavesdrop but, then again, in YChrana, it wasn’t wrong to eavesdrop, was it? Nothing was wrong. So Jeremy listened in. Neil’s father was saying, “I read in the paper that two more businesses were robbed last night. That makes eight already this week.” “Honey,” Neil’s mother replied, her voice thick with worry. “Do you think you should rob that new store on the corner, you know, so that we'll have enough money for summer? Maybe, you could steal us a new air conditioner too—ours is going to break soon, you know.” Lasson, Tents, aad Aetiies 2012 Wayne Thomas BatsonJeremy nearly spit stale doughnut across the room. Neil's mother has actually recommended committing a crime? Jeremy glared at Neil. “Remember, there are no laws down here,” Neil said calmly. “But, don't you have cops..er..uh policemen to keep people safe? “We have the Protectors, but they only help if they feel like it. Heck, sometimes the Protectors are the ones that do all the stealing.” Jeremy’s eyes went wide. No police? They spent the rest of the afternoon playing video games. Some of the most violent and nasty video games Jeremy had ever seen too. Afterward, Jeremy felt nauseous and somehow stained...dirty. He wished they'd played cards instead. “It’s time!” Neil announced. Neil had promised to teach Jeremy how to float at night. Neil had explained that most of the kids went out to play at night after their parents went to sleep. Jeremy liked the sound of that. It was 10:30, pitch black outside, but out the door they went. “None of the parents care about their children being out so late? Jeremy asked thinking about how his parents would have skinned him alive if he had sneaked out this late at night. “Of course they care, but what can they do?” Neil answered. “I mean...they can’t put any rules down on us kids. What kind of an example would that be setting?” “But what about school?” Jeremy wondered aloud. “Don’t you have to get up for school?” “Jeremy, don’t you get it?” Neil shook his head. “Nobody needs to do nuthin’ here. Schools are there, of course, but who needs’em? I know my times tables and I can read—well...I can read some.” Jeremy nodded. Neil stopped for a second and turned to Jeremy as if to say something else, but he hesitated. “What?” Jeremy asked. “Oh, it’s nothing. I don’t want you to worry...” Lessons, Touts, and Actives ©2012 Wayne Thomas Batson“C'mon, what is it?” Jeremy persisted. “Tl tell you later. Look! The kids are all floating around the merry-go-round!” Neil dragged Jeremy to the playground, making him forget his curiosity about what Neil hadn’t told him. They played for more than an hour. Jeremy had met a dozen other kids all of whom helped him to learn how to float. To his surprise, he discovered it wasn’t flying like Superman flew. There wasn’t some invisible power force that moved you wherever you wanted to go. It began with a suspension of the law. Jeremy had to mentally decide that the law of gravity wasn’t real. It didn’t hold him back on Y’Chrana anymore than any other Jaw. He was as light as he wanted to be. And right now, he wanted to fly. Jeremy rose from the ground like a balloon and hovered. To move around, however, he discovered that you had to push off like a swimmer. His momentum would carry him all the way across the playground. He grabbed a tree trunk or a bar from the sliding board, push off again, and sail on the air. It was tricky sometimes. An uneven push off often sent him spinning or heading in the wrong direction. Jeremy was just getting the hang of it when there came a shrill scream followed by screeching tires and a roaring engine. Headlights flooded the playground sending eerie shadows dancing among the equipment. Jeremy hear car doors slam and people yelling and screaming. “Oh, no! It’s them!” Neil yelled. “Run, Jeremy! Hide!” “Who? What?” gasped Jeremy feeling shocked. “It’s the Black Light Gang! We need to get out of here.” Neil started to run, but Jeremy grabbed his arm and demanded an answer. “Who are the Black Light Gang?” he asked. “The Black Light Gang are a cult of violent kidnappers. They come out here every once ina while to grab children. No one knows where they take the kids or what they do. No one ever comes back. C’mon Jeremy! We can’t let them catch us!” “But what about the Protectors?” “The Black Light Gang bribes the Protectors to look the other way,” Neil said. “They never do anything!” With that, Neil sprinted away into the darkness. Lessons, Tete, and Actes ©2012 Wayne Thomas BatsonJeremy ran too, as fast as he could, towards the woods. He streaked out of the Playground and half floated across the grass towards the trees. He darted for the underbrush but thudded awkwardly into a man wearing a black trench coat and gloves. “Got ya!” he said in a deep, menacing voice. “Let me go! Help!” Jeremy screamed. “Help?” laughed the man. “Nobody’s gonna help you!” “But it’s against the law, you'll go to jail!” Jeremy argued. “Law? We have no laws on Y’Chrana! By the way, what's a jail?” Jeremy tried to break free from his kidnapper, but couldn’t get loose. The man’s grip on his arms tightened. “Quit squirming!” the man yelled. ‘Then, the man threw Jeremy head first into a large black automobile. He hit his head against something in the backseat and darkness took him. “Hey, Jeremy, are you okay?” Alli asked. She had him by the shoulders and shook him gently. “Huh?” “I was just about to go get your parents,” she said. “Man, you had me worried. Jeremy had never been so happy to see his friend Alli in his life. “I guess I must have hit my head on that tree when I went to pick up that rock,” he said rubbing the welt on his head. “Ouch, you're lucky to be alive!” Alli observed shaking her head. “If you only knew,” replied Jeremy. “What?” “Oh...nevermind,” Jeremy replied, figuring there'd be no way to explain. easons, Tes, and Acthitios ©2012 Wayne Thomas Batsonoe | Jeremy was the only student staying for detention with Mrs. Pugglefish that afternoon, but he didn’t mind. He listened intently as she rattled on about how he was a fine student but needed to follow directions. “You need to follow the rules, my boy,”she said. “The world is a better place because we have rules.” Jeremy replied with feeling, “Boy, are you right about that!” Lesson, Tents, and Activites ©2012 Wayne Thomas Batson