The Philosophers' Game

Chapter 5: Repercussions

Chapter 5: Repercussions

I walked casually into school the next Monday, expecting it to be just like any regular Monday. But on regular Mondays, half the school doesn't stand clustered in the main hallway, staring at the lockers on one side and whispering quietly.

The natural thing to do in this sort of situation is to join the cluster of bewildered students and figure out what the hell they're looking at, and so that's exactly what I did. I regretted it almost immediately, however. Written across all of the lockers in black paint were these words:

"HE WHO THROWS AWAY HIS FRIEND IS AS BAD AS HE WHO THROWS AWAY HIS LIFE." -- SOPHOCLES

Breathless, and with a sinking feeling in my chest, I looked around for any other Philosopher. Plato and Diogenes were the first ones I saw. But they were together, if only for a moment. They shook hands and exchanged smiles, and then Diogenes ducked out of the crowd, leaving Plato chuckling to himself over the quotation and looking quite smug. It was all the confirmation I needed that this was his handiwork, most likely accomplished with Diogenes's help. 

When Plato finally turned around and caught my eye, he stopped smiling immediately. He simply raised his eyebrows and shrugged, like this whole fiasco wasn't his problem, like it was no big deal. But I knew he'd chosen those words for a good reason. They were a warning of what I was doing to our friendship, a sign of how low he thought I'd acted by moving in on his territory.

Feeling sick to my stomach, I rushed out of the crowd and headed across the hall. Before I even read the yellow Post-It note stuck on my locker, I could guess it too was Plato's doing; the message "Actions speak louder than words" scrawled in his handwriting just confirmed my suspicions. Its inner meaning was loud and clear: I had changed the way the entire game was played without even realizing it, with just five simple words, and Plato was showing me all of the trouble I'd let into the ring, all of the possible ways to gain new followers. The vandalism was his first punch for all to see, and the note on my locker was a personal threat between rounds.

So more than anything, his note was placing the blame on me for all the chaos about to erupt.

"What the hell is going on?" Socrates suddenly hissed in my ear, appearing out of nowhere, and I jumped. But once he saw Plato's note, he was able to answer his own question. I just tore the paper off my locker and stuffed it in my pocket, thinking that this fight to achieve Victory was about to get really bloody.

Moments later, we noticed Aristotle walk into the hallway. As soon as he caught a glimpse of the philosophical damage to the lockers, Socrates urgently waved him over, and the three of us convened in a private corner, away from everyone else.

"Who did that?" Aristotle whispered excitedly. "I honestly can't decide if it's stupid or ingenious or both."

"Stupid," I said quickly, right as Socrates said, "Ingenious." I glared at him.

"What? It's a good quote," he mumbled defensively, shrugging. "At the same time he's berating you for betraying his friendship, he's also comparing himself to someone who 'throws away his life,' like a criminal might. I don't know if the paradox in Plato using that quotation was intentional or not, but it's brilliant."

Uninterested in overanalysis, I just rolled my eyes and made clearer to Aristotle, "Plato did this to spite me after what happened Friday. Apparently Diogenes was the only one of us in on it."

Aristotle let out a long whistle. "Well, breaking into school does seem like something right up Diogenes's alley. I'm just surprised Plato was infuriated enough to elevate this game to the physical level - and I don't mean the fist-fighting or sexual kind. At least not yet."