Assassin
It was the Spring of 1991. It was time for an annual event that the students loved and
the faculty hated: the game of Assassin. It was a game of wits; it was a game of skill; it
was a game of running like a scared little girl (for me, anyway).
I do believe kids in high schools across America are still organizing this game or a
variation thereof. In my high school’s version, the price of admission was $5.00 and only
upperclassmen were allowed to play. Once you paid the fee, you were assigned a
target. Under no circumstances were you to reveal who your target was (this rule was
usually broken within five minutes). Your mission from that point on was to track down
your objective and assassinate. Assassinate = tag the person via water gun, off school
property. Once you completed your mission, you took over your victim's target and
moved on. The last person remaining won the jackpot.
It was quite obvious I was the weakest player in the game, being the only girl. It was a
boy’s game, I was told. They get pretty intense, I was told. I suppose that is why I
wanted to do it. Of course I didn’t anticipate getting assigned the worst possible target
ever. Brian Kelly - the roughest, toughest, meanest and most feared kid in school. Little
Pipsqueak vs. Big Tough Guy. Everyone knew Brian loved the game and would stop at
nothing to win. I had a serious battle ahead of me.
Because assassinations could only take place off of school grounds, one had to be
resourceful in tracking down one’s target. As I said before, within five minutes of the
start of the game, everyone knew who everyone’s target was, which meant that Brian
knew I was after him and I knew who was after me (Steve Wyman, the cutest guy in
school – not a bad person to have chasing me!) Being resourceful: out the window.
What it came down to was timing and good old fashioned luck.
On the second day of play, as Brian passed me in the hall, he slowed down and shot me
a very intimidating, you’d-better-watch-your-back, type of look. My heart pounded and I
started to sweat. It was at that moment that I changed my strategy. I would not attempt
to get Brian right away, no, I would hide out until everyone tagged each other and he
and I were the only ones left. Only then would I make my move. What that move was
actually going to be, I did not know.
My strategy was in place for approximately five hours when the doorbell rang as I was
doing my homework after school. I had a feeling about who this might be. Steve wasn’t
going to fool me into opening the door to get tagged, I wasn’t that stupid. I waited on
the other side of the door, with my ear pressed close (why I didn’t just go to the window
and watch, I’ll never know) to see if I could hear him leave when I felt something cold
sting my thigh. It only took a few seconds to register that it was a feeling of a water gun
at close range. He shot me through a little something called the mail slot. That’s it, game
over. Oh well. It was almost a relief after seeing Brian in school that day, with his
intimidating looks and all. I invited Steve in to have Kool-Aid and watch MTV. At least I
won some kind of prize.
After all was said and done, I never had to enter into combat with the evil Brian, who, as
it turned out, was not so evil after all. Once he found out I was out of the game, he
rushed up to me in the hallway, very much like he did the day before. This time, he
picked me up and swung me around. He said, “You had no chance, Little Jessie. You
have to be SMART to play this game!” and started laughing. The terrified flush I felt
when I saw him come toward me quickly melted into a wave of relief. Brian became my
unofficial big brother after that and as my big brother, he was the only one I’d allow to
call me Jessie. If anyone ever gave me a hard time about anything, he was right there to
defend me. He’d be there to swoop me up as only he could. He’d yell especially loud
just for me when I was on the cheerleading squad on top of the pyramid. I’d be sitting in
Geometry class when he’d walk by in the hallway (skipping class, I’m sure) and make
funny faces until I laughed out loud. Rides to McDonald’s at lunch? Yep, Brian gave
them to a select few – while all the other poor schmucks were stuck eating cafeteria
food. I suppose he was still scary and tough around other people – he had a reputation
to uphold you know - but not around me. It wasn’t anything I would have ever expected
from him before the game started. And of course he went on to win the whole thing.
I got to thinking about Brian the other day when I came across a yellowed clipping of his
obituary that I had saved between the pages of my yearbook. He died when he was 22
after a night of binge drinking. He passed out and choked on his own vomit. I had lost
touch with him after high school and came across the article about his death in the local
newspaper. I couldn’t believe it. Even now, after 10 years, it’s still difficult for me to
think about Brian, but there is one thing I will always take with me from the short time I
knew him.
Be smart while you are playing or your turn will be over before you know it. Make it last
as long as you can. You see, eventually, the game has to end.
