Stealing For Charity

I was part of student congress. Do not ask me how I managed to do it even with all the fights. What gets me even more was I had to be elected from my Japanese class to do it. They had to fill the seat with someone and no one wanting to do it left me with it pretty easily one would think. Anyway each after school club had a different amount of fundraiser they could run in a year. Japanese club had used their only one for a can and bottle drive as summer became fall. Prime time for that sort of thing with plenty of return one would think. ASB was the group in charge of scheduling everything from within the school while also having the right as a club to plan a half dozen different fundraisers for things like prom, letterman jackets, and whatever else was so much flappery.

ASB had a habit of taking money from other clubs because Mr. Sullivan was the teacher in charge of student congress as well as the ASB club. When a club wanted to do something for a fundraiser they would have to let the congress knew who would have to vote on it and let Mr. Sullivan put it on the schedule. The point of all this was to make there was not a whole lot of competition allowing the best possible amount to be gotten with each fundraiser.

Thinking further head then other clubs Mrs. Grey tried to get as much funds as possible to lower the cost of the Japanese exchange program. More of the money we would collect here would lower the remainder that would be paid for them later. There wasn’t a chance in blue hell of going myself, but it was for a good cause and I wanted people to enjoy the trip.

Running both parties Mr. Sullivan also thought he would OK a fundraiser of a can drive a week before ours after one day of time between ASB and student congress Sullivan sent the request and congress Sullivan approved it request while everyone else had to give at least two weeks notice. That two weeks notice was fair because it allowed us to advertise further making sure the one shot we got were made the most of. ASB scooping the cans before we could collect was a grimy move, and after finding out where the cans were being held at made it clear that some imaginative reclaiming plans had to be committed to.

Edward and Tiny were up and Tiny’s brother decided to give us a ride with his truck. After figuring out the plan one of their friends confirmed the exact location of the cans at the bison ranch with the rest of the family out at a convention for a few days leaving just my fellow student. We all agreed on how to take back the stolen funds that were already bagged up for our pleasure.

Starting that night the weather was good while were in the back while Tiny’s brother drove the truck. The night was cool while not being uncomfortable with a bright full moon in the sky which in this case was a positive. Buildings dotted the compound giving a lot of dark corners to hide in. We all knew that the guy in the house would not give a shit searching because not a whole lot of people would fuck with a bison ranch. Police were out in the boonies an hour away leaving us with a nice opening to move in case everything goes sour. We made our way from different sides in the case that one of us being spotted didn’t mean we were all busted. There was going to be a patrol ATV making us at least careful enough to listen when hiding.

Bison are really gentle creatures provided you make sure they know you are not a threat. I know this because my path took through the animal pen and unknowingly the rock I was hiding behind when the ATV had come was warm and furry. Having my back to it after putting the pieces together the bison that was sleeping opened one eye to look at me. Seeing a high school student with face paint in kabuki ribbon style with camouflage colors; we had all done different designs to get in the spirit of things. Snorting for a minute part of me wondered if it was laughing at me or just wondering who was dumb enough to rest against a sleeping bison, but it went back to sleep with nary a care in the world. Not one creature in that pen cared to move when I needed to make my way out.

When we got to the door of the utility shed the lights in the house had just gone off. Edward was last of us to show up remarking how bison crap seemed to stink to high heaven. Calling our truck in there was a span of five minutes where the occasional dog barking would remind us this was technologically still a crime. Loading up the bed with our reclaimed prize we transferred it over Ed’s place where his mother surprisingly let us hold it no questions asked, as long as we were sticking it to Sullivan.

His club moaned stating how the perpetrators would be brought to justice. Some were even happy to see him and me at student congress, but it isn’t about what you know, it is about the evidence. None of which on the bags of cans could be traced to us when we put them forth as my own donation we were never brought forward as the evil crew. The Japanese club had to wonder how despite seeing me drink all the soda that all those large bags would be coming from one person.