“Good morning, students.”
“Good morning.”
This was my cue to look away and focus on Professor Valdez. I didn’t give in to it.
I bore in the side of Jacques’s head—waiting for him to fish out his phone. Maybe daring him to look back.
He did neither of those things.
“Before we begin, I feel obliged to mention this along with the many who have warned every year,” Valdez said. “Ruckus Royale is not a sanctioned event or holiday.”
I tore away from Jacques. Valdez said the two words that would steal my attention today, and likely for the rest of my life.
“What started as a celebration of independence has devolved into drunkenness, property damage, petty antics, and in the case of those sacrificed, public ridicule and humiliation.” Valdez paced the length of his desk, giving the stern eye to every row. “As future lawyers, you all should know that ‘this is what we’ve always done’ is not a defense. This ridiculous event needs to end, and it will.”
He was a handsome man. The kind that could make an old-fashioned tweed coat with elbow patches look natural. From the first day I met him, I got the impression he was a man out of his time. Someone who believed in picking up the check, or sitting out on the porch smoking a pipe. Why I thought that made him suited to teaching ethical issues in law, I had no idea. I just had a feeling from the first class, it’d be an interesting year. Didn’t think he’d prove me right so soon.
Students in the rows ahead glanced back, catching a peek at Jacques’s reaction. The guy sat there sipping his water bottle and appearing lost in his head.
“I lead a group of parents, neighbors, and members of the community committed to seeing the end of Ruckus Royale. Tonight, and every night this reckless lawlessness is allowed to run rampant through our streets, we’ll take action.”
Valdez stopped pretending and fixed on Jacques.
“We’ll call the police, photograph the people participating, bring charges against illegal activity. We’ll make it so your couches and a bowl of popcorn are the most exciting thing anyone dares to do on Ruckus night.
“I heard this year’s clue is too difficult. Most of you don’t know where the party is. That’s for the best,” he said. “When it is broken up, and it will be broken up, you don’t want to be rounded up. An arrest doesn’t make an attractive addition to a law school application.”
No one said a word. We didn’t so much as cough.
Valdez straightened his back, propping against his desk. “Forgive me for starting class this way. As my students, I had to warn you before you made a mistake tonight that you can’t come back from.”
My vision glazed on his handsome tweed form. What about the mistakes I can’t come back from tonight? Where’s your stern talking-to for me?
“I hope the message sunk in,” he said to everyone, but addressed to Jacques.
Again, nothing but a serious thirst from my seatmate.
Valdez cleared his throat. “Let’s begin. First week of classes, I’m throwing you right in the deep end. As we know, there’s always been a disconnect between what is legal and what is ethical. I don’t need to give examples,” he said. “Dozens have popped into your head already.” He swept over us. “Can anyone tell me the history of how Crystal Canyon became Bedlam?”
A hand shot in the air. “Life wasn’t good for women, servants, or African-Americans back then, but in Crystal Canyon, it was hell on earth,” Victoria began. “The landowning men formed a club, a cult— I don’t know the word for what they were. A group that protected and favored each other, they called themselves the Men of Honor. Holding all the highest positions in town, coupled with all the rights, they did what they wanted when it suited them. And we all know what they say about absolute power.
“Colonel James Cotton saw his wife getting too familiar with a man outside the general store. He savagely beat them both right there in the street. His wife later died from the injuries, and the sheriff didn’t lift a finger. Dozens of witnesses, a victim, and a body covered in bruises. Cotton spent one night in jail and was let off for lack of evidence.
“They say that was the splinter that broke the dam. From there, they knew without a doubt they had the law under their thumb. The Men of Honor descended into total savagery and cruelty and soon started the Hunt. One night a month a young girl was chosen, chased through the streets, and brought to their lodge after capture where they’d... do what they wanted to her.
“People were scared. Terrified,” she said. “Those with the means to move, left town as fast as they could. Families sent their daughters to live with distant aunts and cousins. Crystal Canyon fell into bedlam long before it became our name.”