There was a light dusting of snow beginning to fall as we pulled up to the school and my mom unlocked the automatic doors to let me out of the minivan. Her work shift started an hour or two earlier than most other kids’ parents, making this early drop-off a daily routine for us. I still wasn’t quite old enough to be trusted at home alone - at least according to her.

As I walked towards the school doors, I saw the snow begin to fall a bit heavier, the snowflakes now coin-sized blobs. But it still wasn’t anything abnormal. Just the usual flurries, which we were accustomed to around these parts.

My mom drove off as I realized the front entrance of the school was still locked. It was past 7AM, so it should have been open. I figured the custodian was running late and looked around for other options.

I managed to find an open window and let myself in, then went to the front door of the school and unlocked it myself, from the inside.

There were a few of us latch-key kids who got dropped off an hour or two early and got picked up an hour or two late every day. Most of us went home to do-it-yourself microwave dinners and oven-ready frozen fish sticks as our parents left for evening shifts at second jobs. Our diets consisted of Pizza Pockets and Pop Tarts, Hungry Man and Hamburger Helper.

We knew each other well.

The first one to arrive was Tommy. A rich kid with blond hair who thought he could order everybody around, just because his father owned a car dealership. He had fancy shoes and name brand clothes, and made fun of everyone else who didn’t. Unfortunately he was also obnoxious and most kids hated him, so he never got in with the cool crowd, despite his efforts to bribe them with invitations to lavish birthday parties and trips to his family lake house. Nobody wanted to spend an afternoon with the kid, let alone a weekend.

He pushed open the front doors and marched in, looking around.

“Where the hell is everybody? This place is dead.”

I realized he was right. The school was more empty than usual.

“Don’t ask me. I had to come in through the damn window. It’s too cold to stand out there waiting for Gus.”

“That lazy dick is probably gettin’ high on paint fumes in his supply closet. We should go crash his party.”

“I’m waiting for Brett,” I said, trying to think of an excuse.

Brett was another latch-key kid who I was semi-friends with. I’d been to his house a half dozen times, but he was a loner. He would just sit in his room and play video games all day if his parents and the rest of the world let him.

Tommy sucked his teeth, looking annoyed.

“Why do you hang out with that loser, anyways?”

I ignored this as Brett came in at that moment, shaking snow out of his black mop of hair. It was really coming down outside now, and it looked like a blizzard was approaching.

“Hey, what’s up, man?” I said, giving Brett a fist bump.

He was looking down at his Gameboy and only half paying attention, but he managed to complete the fist bump, blowing it up afterwards, then went back to his game again.

“Yo,” was all he said back.

“What are you playing today?”

“Castlevania.”

“Sweet.”

“Alright, let’s go wake up the stupid janitor now,” Tommy whined, in his most irritating voice, stomping his feet like a toddler being denied a popsicle at the grocery store.

Brett just ignored him and looked down at his game, continuing to play. But I did see the faintest scowl of annoyance cross his face. The two of them really didn’t like each other.

“Hang on. Becka will be here any second. Let’s just wait for her.”

The four of us were always wandering the school hallways before class. Usually even before the teachers arrived. We’d just kill time in the computer lab or in the library. But Tommy always wanted to try to tell us what to do, like we were his employees.

Sure enough, Becka came in next, brushing snow off the shoulders of her leather jacket. She stomped her big, black, Doc Martin boots, knocking the slush off of them. Then she hiked her backpack up over her shoulder and came in to greet us.

“This place is dead today,” she said, unzipping her coat. “Where is everybody?”

Tommy looked like he was ready to explode.

“THAT’S WHAT I SAID! Can we please go and see if we can find Gus? Maybe that guy knows what’s going on.”

The rest of us agreed and we left the front entrance, as the snow steadily began to pile up higher and higher just outside the doors.

A handful of younger students in first and second grade came in as we were walking away, and I saw more were arriving behind them. A lot of parents were dropping their kids off early today, trying to get into their jobs before the snow began to fall in earnest.

We searched all throughout the school, but found no trace of Gus. Even in the basement, his usual hiding place, the old janitor was absent.

“Well, maybe he’s sick or something,” Becka said, as we went back up the stairs towards the main level of the school.

“Yeah, I guess. But…”

“What?”

“When’s the last time Gus was sick? Can you remember him ever calling in? That guy is like an elderly Iron Man.”

Once we got back to the main level, I saw it was noticeably darker than usual.

“What’s going on? Is the power out?” Tommy asked. “Dude, this school. If it’s not one thing it’s another.”

The power did seem to be out, although there was emergency lighting which cast a dull glow in the hallway. Murmuring voices could be heard from up ahead, near the main entrance, and we rushed to see what the commotion was all about.

We arrived to see the doors of the school had been covered with a six foot high wall of snow which was still pouring down from the sky. The younger kids were huddled around one boy who had a portable radio, and they were listening to the local news broadcast.

“Finally, North Haven Elementary School is… Closed, due to heavy snowfall. That’s right, kids! It’s a snow-day today!”

The group of students let out a collective groan and Brett ran over to the doors, trying to force them open. But they wouldn’t budge.

We were trapped. At school. On a snow-day.

A fate worse than death.

It didn’t take long for factions to begin forming. Maybe it was because we’d been assigned “Lord of the Flies” recently as a reading assignment.

Brett, Becka, and I gathered what forces we could from the first and second graders and tried to formulate a plan for extrication. We wanted out.

But Tommy had other plans. After a quick, failed attempt at recruitment, he resorted to threatening the first and second graders into compliance. Young and foolish, many of them followed him, believing his promises of unlimited mini-pizza and bread pudding for any who would help him storm the kitchen.

“Our parents will come for us soon,” Becka pleaded with him. “Don’t do this. You’ll get us all detention.”

But Tommy didn’t listen, marching off with a formation of small children behind him, chanting a war-cry of: “BREAKFAST WILL BE OURS!”

After several hours of attempting to force the door open against the ever-building pile of snow, morale was getting low.

Worse yet, Brett’s Gameboy battery was at critical levels, and he was beginning to speak about changing sides. His loud voice was carrying across the foyer, and several first graders perked up their ears at word of potential cereal and milk. Many of us had not eaten breakfast, and the growling of empty bellies could be heard from all around.

“There’s no way he even got in there,” Becka said. “That door is reinforced steel with a deadbolt. Tommy’s probably still trying to get it open with a coat hanger.”

“Oh really?” Tommy said, coming around the corner with a cold hotdog in his hand. “Well, here I was coming to share with you all. But I guess you don’t want any food.”

“It’s not your food! It belongs to the school, which means it belongs to us, too!”

Brett lunged at him, looking ravenously hungry, but several first graders with ketchup smeared under their eyes like war-paint appeared out of nowhere and grabbed him.

Tommy began to eat the hotdog, shoving the whole thing in his mouth and licking his fingers afterwards.

“Mmmm, that was good. Too bad there’s none left for you guys.”

He walked away, laughing maniacally.

And that was how it got started.

The Snowday war.

Brett, Becka, and I created a triumvirate of power, ruling over the local first and second graders with a spirit of sharing and forgiveness.

We each split the provisions we had been granted that morning by our parents, opening our lunch bags to reveal whatever hideous concoctions they had given us.

It wasn’t pretty, but we managed to get through lunch without a microwave.

Meanwhile, the snow continued to blot out the sun, covering the windows with white shadows growing ever blacker. The emergency power eventually died, as day turned to night, and we were left in total darkness.

Things got bad in the total pitch-blackness which followed.

If you thought a self-imposed government created by elementary school children was a warped reality, just imagine the anarchy that would ensue in an atmosphere of total darkness.

The first graders lost their minds initially, and a few became mad with the power of invisibility, pinching their classmates and sneaking up on them mercilessly, until a couple kids sounded like they were on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

A light appeared suddenly out of the darkness, and I realized it was a flashlight. The dark shape behind it was tall, and I realized it was a man coming down the hallway towards us.

Eventually his familiar face came into focus.

“GUS!?”

“Hey, kids. Sorry it took me so long to get in here. I managed to climb in through a hatch on the roof. Now come on, I’m getting you all out of here.”

We were all relieved beyond words. I ran over to Gus and hugged him tightly, crying as he patted my back.

The first and second graders came and joined me, and we all held him in an embrace.

And then I heard a sound, like a huge metal stake being driven through a piece of meat.

I felt something warm and wet dripping down onto my head from above, and heard a raspy gurgling sound.

Gus’s flashlight fell to the floor with a loud clatter, and in the glow of it I saw him collapse to the floor - a spear fashioned from a sharpened yardstick protruding from his throat. His hands were reaching up to grab it, to pull it out. But his lips were turning blue, his breathing becoming more desperate.

And without warning, he was completely still, and I realized the old janitor was dead.

The group of us looked back to see Tommy standing there with a twisted smile on his face. He had several more spears clutched in one hand, and he pulled one out from the rest, holding it up like a javelin he was preparing to throw.

“Nobody leaves! I’m the leader of this place! None of you are allowed to go anywhere!”

Tommy had clearly gone mad with power at some point overnight. I noticed none of the kids were with him anymore and hoped they were okay.

“We’re getting out of here, Tommy,” I said. “With or without you.”

He lifted another yardstick spear and threw it without warning. The sharpened point of it flew straight at my head as he screamed an incomprehensible warcry.

Brett did the unthinkable. He dove in front of me, his Gameboy clutched in his hand.

“NOOOoooooo,” his voice called out, in slow motion.

The small grey block of electronics took the brunt of the damage from the spear, blocking its path like a kevlar vest stopping a bullet. The wooden projectile was sticking out from the screen as Brett fell to the floor, clutching his bleeding hand.

“Hey, thanks, man. Come on,” I said, helping him up. “Let’s get the hell out of here before he throws another one!”

The three of us called the other kids after us and we ran towards the gym, where it looked like Gus had come from. Wooden spears came flying over our heads, landing on the floor of the hallway. We stomped them beneath our feet as we ran past, and I looked over my shoulder to see Tommy preparing to throw another.

We ducked into the double doors of the gymnasium just as a spear came whizzing past my face. My heart was pounding with fear as I realized that it would have killed me if I’d stayed where I was for a second longer.

We ran up onto the stage, where a cold breeze could be felt coming in through the ceiling. The first and second graders were already climbing up the scaffolding leading to the catwalk, where the hatch could be accessed by a ladder.

As I reached the upper level of the catwalk, I heard the gym doors crash open with a bang.

It was Tommy. And he was walking towards the scaffolding with murder in his eyes.

That was when I remembered the signs down below us, which Gus had installed.

DO NOT SHAKE THE SCAFFOLDING - they read. The structure was notoriously wobbly, and only adults were allowed to go up to the top, in order to change lights for plays and school productions.

“Get down here, or I’ll make you come down here,” Tommy said, gripping the legs of a piece of scaffolding.

“Hurry! Get up the ladder!” I yelled to one of the kids who was still with us.

He climbed up onto the ladder and it was just Becka, Brett, and I remaining on the catwalk.

“Alright, have it your way,” Tommy said, and began to shake the entire structure violently with his body weight, heaving the supports back and forth and making the scaffolding wobble.

The three of us were thrown side to side, and my heart nearly stopped as I was tossed into the railing and almost went over the edge, where I would have fallen to my death far below. But Becka grabbed my wrist and pulled me back, and we struggled towards the ladder.

“NO! YOU CAN’T LEAVE!” Tommy shouted as he realized we were getting away, despite his deadly efforts. “YOU CAN’T! YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED!”

He shook the scaffolding even harder, and I heard something snap just as I grabbed the bottom rung of the ladder.

The entire structure collapsed beneath me in an instant, and I heard Tommy’s cries of outrage cut short as it crushed him beneath its weight.

I was hanging by one hand from the ladder, and my fingers began to slip as my sweaty palms lost traction.

But just as I was about to fall, Brett grabbed me by the shirt sleeve and pulled me up out of the hatch, and we collapsed in the snow on the roof.

We laid there in the cold frost, breathless and exhausted, starving and terrified, and looked up to see the sun was shining in the sky.

The storm had ended.

And the snow would melt.

And soon, school would be back on again.

JG

TCC