Reactions (Ezzy's Education: Part 32), by Garrett Murch
Ebbing High School closed abruptly Wednesday morning upon news of Trunk Langston’s and Verica Navratil’s deadly crash. Ezzy, back home now, sat on her bed leaning forward and wearing her favorite forest green fishing cap. Her eyes were glued to her laptop screen reading InstaTok comments related to the tragedy.
Jumper04: Trunk is now a murderer as well as a rapist. I hope he gets raped before he gets killed.
ShondaL: @Jumper04 Verica is in a coma, you fool. She isn’t dead. And Trunk did not rape anyone. He only tried to rape Kayla.
Jumper04: @ShondaL Take off your tin hat, you Patriot moron. What’s your next conspiracy theory, that Lucinda Barron roofied Kayla Jennings?
“Wow,” Ezzy said. These rushes to judgment are outrageous. Has a single witness come forward saying Trunk drugged his own water bottle and gave it to Kayla? Even the worst of the worst should get their day in court, right?
Trendon B: God bless my best friend and the greatest Ebbing football player ever. I miss you but I know you will return.
#TrunkLives
I feel terrible for Trendon, as much as I can’t stand him.
PeoplePower: Remember when Trunk made fun of that player of toxically masculine football THE DAY AFTER the kid died? Good riddance, Trunk Langston. Let us hope for Verica’s speedy recovery.
#JusticeWillPrevail
DizzyJ: Exactly @PeoplePower. Trunk made fun of kids who died, disabled kids for being disabled, kids who were held at gunpoint for being held at gunpoint. Why would anyone feel bad for him? He got off too easy! And yes, let us hope, hope, hope for Verica!
Trendon B: Screw you @PeoplePower and @DizzyJ Trunk was just kidding about those things. He will return.
#TrunkLives
”Those two are sick!” Ezzy yelled. And I bet Trendon has already been drinking. She texted Link and Madison. “Can you guys hop on Zoom?”
Ezzy sent them a Zoom link. She tightened her cap for the third time since she’d gotten home. I swear my hat is trying to fall off my head today. The hat normally had a comforting effect on her.
On Zoom, Ezzy asked Link and Madison, “Have you guys seen what people are saying about Trunk’s death on InstaTok?”
“I started to,” Madison said, “but it’s just too sad, too infuriating, too embarrassing. So I turned it off. InstaTok is evil.”
“It’s totally evil,” Link said. “But I can’t keep myself away from it.”
“So you guys don’t suggest engaging?”
“I’m not planning to,” Madison said. “I want to be done with that website once and for all.”
“Good luck with that,” Link said. “I don’t usually get involved on InstaTok. One time I commented with an anonymous account.”
“What was your username?” Ezzy asked.
“D-Anon.”
“That was you?” Ezzy asked. “That same night I made an anonymous comment, too.”
“Who were you, Ezzy?” Madison asked.
“Z-Anon,” Ezzy said. “That was a powerful comment you made, Link. It didn’t occur to me it might have been you.”
“I remember both comments,” Madison said.
“I remember yours, Ezzy,” Link said. “Wasn’t it written in sort of a Shakespeare-style?”
“It was. I can’t believe you noticed that. The comment was too playful and now I feel beyond foolish for having done it. I was annoyed Mr. Catty was pushing his politics more than teaching us Shakespeare. Plus, he’d picked on you in class earlier that day.”
“I guess we’re stuck with InstaTok,” Madison said. “Do you two want to post your thoughts anonymously?”
“No.” Ezzy said without hesitation. “Not after what has happened. Anything we say, we should be willing to own up to. These anonymous comments are wrong. I was wrong.”
“They’re dangerous,” Madison said.
After sipping from his can of Red Bull, Link said, “Evil.”
“They can be all of those sometimes,” Ezzy said.
“So what should we do, Ezzy?” Link asked.
“On InstaTok? Nothing. Nothing good can come from engaging there right now. Although I am going to keep an eye on it.”
“So we do nothing?” Link asked, sounding exasperated.
Ezzy rolled her eyes. Link always thinks I don’t want to do anything. But doing something for the sake of doing something is the wrong approach. Might not be productive and could even be counterproductive. “I’m going to bring Verica and her parents some flowers later,” Ezzy said. “Can you guys each chip in like ten bucks? I can come pick it up from you before going to the florist.”
They both said they could.
“Great, I’ll be right over. I figure Verica’s parents will be at the hospital. Link, Kayla won’t mind if the card says the flowers are from her, too, right?”
“I think she would like that,” Link said. “Kelile would, too, I imagine.”
“Great. I’ll also add Jasmine’s name to the card. Be right over. Adios.”
* * *
2:17 p.m.
Ezzy stepped out of the elevator onto the third floor of Ebbing Memorial Hospital. The smell of hospital was strong and over a dozen people sat in the waiting room. A petite, brown-haired girl sat with a middle-aged man and woman. That’s Lucinda. Those must be Verica’s parents. She walked to them, holding a bouquet of purple bearded irises, black-eyed susans, and casa blanca lilies.
“Mr. and Mrs. Navratil?” Ezzy asked them. They stood up. Lucinda remained seated while looking at Ezzy.
“Navratilova, yes,” Verica’s father said. Mrs. Navratilova smiled at Ezzy and at the bouquet.
“My name is Ezzy Bello. I’m a classmate of Verica’s and I want you to know how very sorry my friends and I are. We are all praying for Verica’s speedy and complete recovery.” She handed the flowers to Verica’s mother. Lucinda looked upset but not in a sad way.
“Hello, Lucinda.”
“Hi there, Ezzy.”
“Oh of course you two must know each other,” Verica’s mother said. “Lucinda is Verica’s friend at school. Verica has been so excited about bringing justice, I guess, to Ebbing High School.” Her husband’s face went stone cold.
“It’s important to have worthy goals,” Ezzy said. Although advancing Lucinda’s self-centered ambition is hardly worthy.
“I agree,” Verica’s father said. He glanced at Lucinda, who now looked away. He shook his head and said, “You strike me as a promising young woman, Miss Bello. I hope when Verica is better—I know she’ll get better, I just know—she’ll have you over to the house some time. Perhaps for dinner.”
“She will get better,” Verica’s mother said, beginning to choke up. “She will get better; she will get better. If there is any justice, she will get better.” Tears streamed down her rosy cheeks as she remained standing, now in her husband’s arms.
Lucinda showed little to no emotion while looking at Verica’s parents, wearing the faintest of scowls.
“I have faith,” Ezzy said. “She will get better.” I will pray for her.
Mrs. Navratilova looked at Ezzy and made a small but real smile. Ezzy had gained the trust of Verica’s parents without even trying. This sort of thing had happened to Ezzy throughout
her life, and she was just starting to realize people might sense she understood and sympathized with people. She smiled back at Verica’s mother, who stepped to Ezzy. The two hugged and Ezzy gently patted her back.
After stepping away, Ezzy said to Verica’s parents, “I would be honored to visit you— someday soon.” She felt Lucinda’s glare. Don’t look at her. I don’t know what her problem is, and I don’t care. “I do have to run to work now. I know Verica can handle a lot, and I believe she’s going to fight through this.”
“So do I,” Verica’s father said. “Thank you, Miss Bello.”
Ezzy smiled at both parents, dipping her head a bit as she looked one and the other in the eye. She walked back to the elevator. I can’t imagine being them right now. What’s with Lucinda? She looked more angry than sad.