Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3 — The Sirens of Justice
The parents didn't wait for Trent to explain.
Cell phones were already out.
People were dialing furiously.
“Yes, I need the police at Oakwood Academy immediately,” one mother shouted into her phone.
“I want the Board of Health! Give me the emergency inspector!” another father yelled.
“Get the local news down here right now!”
The cafeteria was a war zone of furious adults.
The students were just watching, completely stunned.
We had fought a food fight.
Our parents were fighting a war.
Trent finally found the strength to stand up.
His suit was ruined.
His dignity was gone.
“You are all trespassing!” he screamed, trying to regain control.
“I am locking down the school! Everyone must leave!”
He turned to run toward the administrative hallway.
He didn't make it two steps.
Five fathers, including mine, formed a human wall.
They crossed their arms.
“You aren't going anywhere, Principal,” my dad said.
“You’re going to sit right there and wait for the police.”
“This is kidnapping!” Trent panicked.
“No, it’s a citizen's arrest for mass child endangerment,” Mr. Miller growled.
Ten minutes later, the sound of sirens pierced the air.
Red and blue lights flashed through the high cafeteria windows.
Three police cruisers screeched to a halt outside.
Followed by a white van from the County Health Department.
Four police officers burst through the doors, hands on their belts.
“Who called about a riot?” the lead officer demanded.
The parents immediately parted, creating a clear path to Trent.
“No riot, officer,” my dad said calmly.
“Just a fraud investigation.”
The health inspector walked in right behind the cops.
He took one breath of the cafeteria air.
He immediately pulled a mask out of his pocket and put it over his face.
“Good god,” the inspector muffled through the mask. “What is that smell?”
My mother pointed to the kitchen doors.
“Take a look, inspector.”
The inspector walked into the kitchen.
He was in there for less than thirty seconds.
He walked back out, his face pale above his mask.
He looked at the lead police officer.
“Shut this building down,” the inspector said firmly.
“Right now. I am condemning this cafeteria as a biohazard. Nobody eats, nobody cooks.”
The police officer looked at Trent.
“Are you the administrator in charge?”
Trent tried to stand tall, but he just looked pathetic.
“I am the principal, yes. But the food vendor is a third-party contractor—”
The cafeteria manager screamed from the corner.
She broke.
“Don't you dare blame me!” she shrieked, pointing a shaky finger at Trent.
“You forced me to buy it!”
The entire room went dead silent.
The police officer pulled out a notepad.
“Ma'am, what do you mean he forced you?”
The manager was sobbing uncontrollably now.
“He controls the budget! He slashed my food budget by ninety percent last year!”
She pointed at Trent with pure hatred.
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“He told me to buy from a liquidation warehouse or he would fire me!”
The truth was finally out.
