FTV BURNS BOOKS
Halloween Bonfire Shocks Many
Halloween revelers from Wilson High were shocked last night to discover adults from the new group Families for Traditional Values (FTV) on Sloan’s Beach, tossing books into a bonfire. “They were dancing around it like it was some kind of witches’ sabbat,” said Jamie Crawford, editor in chief of the school newspaper, the Wilson High Telegraph, who, with several of her friends (one of whom, Tessa Gillespie, took the photo that accompanies this article), discovered the blaze.
“It was necessary to do something dramatic in order to make our point,” Lisa Buel, founder of FTV, told this reporter. “There are a number of highly inappropriate books in the town library, and several in the school libraries, most of them acquired when the new sex education curriculum was introduced. Children have free access to them; they need to be kept in a locked case, accessible only to adults …”
Jamie threw the town paper down in disgust. “Look at this!” she shouted. “Mrs. Buel comes right out and says they took those books out of the library in order to burn them! That’s why they were checked out when Tessa and I looked for them! No one has the right to do that. No one.”
“Slow down, Jamie!” Her father peered over her shoulder; it was nearly lunchtime on the day after the Halloween party. “Read on. It says here”—he pointed farther down the News-Courier’s page—“that they bought copies of the books to burn and that they’re holding on to the library books.”
“Oh, so that makes it all right?” Jamie said, still shouting. “They’re just covering themselves by doing that. Burning books is wrong no matter whose they are.”
“Jamie, Jamie.” Her father put his hand on her shoulder. “Calm down. People can do what they want with their own property, and that includes books. Be fair.”
Jamie slumped down in her chair. “Yeah, okay. But it’s the principle of the thing.”
“It sure is.” Mrs. Crawford came into the room with Ronnie and peered over Jamie’s shoulder.
“There’s your story, then, Jamie.” Her father opened the refrigerator and handed a half-gallon container of milk to Jamie and a package of lunch ham to Ronnie. “For I assume,” he said, turning around and giving Jamie a long look, “that you’re going to write about this in that renegade paper of yours. Is there any roast beef left over from last night?”
“Yes,” said Mrs. Crawford. “Second shelf, on the left. Ronnie, please put the ham down before you drop it. Jamie, glasses, please. Where’s the bread?”
“You bet I’m going to write about it,” Jamie said, getting up for the glasses.
“What about lunch?” asked her mother.
“Not hungry.” Jamie put three glasses on the table and left the kitchen.
“Great photo!” her father called after her. “Good for Tess!”
Jamie spent the next hour on the phone. Yes, the assistant town librarian could provide a list of the books, but she’d have to ask her supervisor for permission to release it; yes, the school librarian, when Jamie called her at home, said she’d checked out some books to an adult recently, but she couldn’t say which ones or to whom; no, Lisa Buel wouldn’t consent to be interviewed by Jamie; yes, Mom would try to find out what books were involved if the library couldn’t give Jamie the titles; yes, Tessa, Terry, Cindy, and Jack would be right over.
“We both think what happened last night was awful,” said Cindy, sitting next to Jack on Jamie’s bed. “I mean, it was awful. No one has the right to burn library books.”
“They didn’t,” Jamie said. “They bought other copies of the books and burned those. They still have the library books, but …”
“Why?” asked Jack, putting his arm around Cindy.
“Huh?”
“Why do they still have them?”
“Yeah,” said Tessa. “It’s like they’re holding them hostage or something.”
“Maybe they are,” Jamie said thoughtfully. “Anyway, obviously we’ve got to cover the burning in the Renegade—fast. I wish we could get an interview with Lisa Buel.”
“Yeah, right,” Terry said sarcastically.
“Can’t we?” Cindy asked.
Jamie shook her head. “She wouldn’t talk to me before, and she won’t now either. I tried.”
“Maybe we could at least ask her to confirm what she told the town paper,” Tessa suggested.
Jack nodded. “It couldn’t hurt to try.”
“Good idea. Okay,” Jamie said briskly. “Let’s get going so we can have papers tomorrow morning.”
Late that afternoon, when Jamie was in her room trying to draft the Renegade’s lead article, her mother came in and silently put a sheet of paper on her desk. “These are the books Lisa Buel took out of both libraries,” she told her. “They’re the only ones she’s taken out at all recently, so they’ve got to be the ones she burned.”
“You really got the librarians to tell you?”
“Let’s just say I found out.”
Jamie grinned. “Okay,” she said. “Wow, Mom! Thank you!” Then she scanned the list—and felt the same chill run through her as she had when Karen had come into the girls’ room and when Brandon and the others called out their comments in the hall. Of the books on the list, most, fiction and nonfiction, dealt with homosexuality or AIDS, and several were about sex education in general.
“Damn her,” Jamie said under her breath.
Mrs. Crawford pulled the spare chair up to Jamie’s desk and sat down, watching Jamie carefully. “Are you still sure you want to be involved in this?”
“Yes, I want to be involved,” Jamie said tensely. “I am involved,” she added, thinking of the pamphlet as well as of FTV’s choice of books. “I’m …”
“You’re what?”
“Nothing,” Jamie said gruffly. She’d been about to say I guess I’m one of the people Lisa Buel’s after, but she felt herself shiver involuntarily as soon as she realized it.
I want to tell Mom, she thought. I want so much to tell her. But won’t it hurt her? Terry’s mother cried when he told her …
Maybe it would be selfish to tell her …
Jamie was still agonizing, searching unsuccessfully for tactful words, when her mother got up and put her hands on her shoulders. “I just want you to know,” Mrs. Crawford said quietly, “that I think you’re very brave and that I love you very much. And that I’m here if there’s ever anything you want to talk to me about.” She turned Jamie around and looked into her eyes. “Jamie, I don’t shock easily. And I know God made all kinds of people. You should know that I understand that.” She paused. “You do know that, don’t you?”
Jamie felt her heart speed up; it was almost as if her mother knew already but wanted Jamie to say it. After all, Terry’s father said he’d suspected about Terry, and he was okay about it. So why can’t I say it, Jamie thought. Why can’t I just say the words?
But she couldn’t. Not yet, anyway.
Maybe because saying them would make it true.
But it was true.
Wasn’t it?
It was true even if Lisa Buel was awful about it, true no matter how homophobic FTV was, or Brandon and Al and Sam and Karen and others were, true whether Tessa was straight or gay, true no matter what books were burned …
“Mom. Mom, I …” Jamie began after her mother had given her a quick kiss on the forehead and was moving quickly to the door.
Mrs. Crawford turned back. “Yes?”
But the moment had passed. “Nothing. Just—well, thanks, that’s all.”
Her mother smiled. “You’re welcome,” she said, “although I haven’t done much yet.”
You will, Jamie thought as her mother left. I’m pretty sure you will.
