by Rysa Walker
Julie has heard the rumors. Everyone in town has. Ralph Rey has even gotten a visit from the local police a time or two. No one really doubts that he beats his wife, but there’s not a lot they can do when Aileen Rey will find a ten-foot-high stack of Bibles upon which to deny it anytime the subject is raised.
She knows this from personal experience, because she pulled Aileen aside after a service not long after the woman allegedly fell down the steps in front of the family’s trailer. Aileen and the boys had never attended services regularly, maybe once every couple of months. And even though Julie broached the subject of Aileen’s “accident” as delicately as she could, it had been enough to frighten her away. The Rey family hadn’t been back to the church since.
Julie had really hoped, however, that the abuse didn’t include the kids. Aileen had sworn that it didn’t, but then she’d sworn Ralph had never hurt her, either. The snatch of conversation Julie heard between the brothers just now, however, makes her fairly certain that Aileen was lying about that, too.
She stares a moment too long. When Chase catches her eye, Julie smiles at him, then looks back down at her notes, hoping he won’t realize that she overheard him talking with his brother, because there’s no way she’ll be able to continue ignoring what she suspects. She’ll either call Chief Craven when he gets back into town or maybe talk to that deputy who lives next door to Bill. Tucker, the one Bill once referred to as his future son-in-law. She still isn’t entirely sure if Bill was joking about that.
Julie startles when she realizes Chase is standing next to her.
“You’re that lady preacher, right?”
When Julie nods, he goes on. “I had a problem at school today. I’m a little bit sick, I think. Nothing catching, but they called my brother. And…he’s got a test last period, and…”
“And you’re wondering if I’ll tell your brother I’ll keep an eye on you.” She takes a deep breath. “Normally, I’d be happy to, Chase, but I’m only going to be here for about another hour. After that, I’m supposed to go help Daisy get things set up for the FrightFest over at the Hart.”
“I could help you. I’m a good worker.”
“I’m sure you are…” Julie begins, preparing to give the boy some reason that this is a bad idea.
In the end, however, she pushes the excuses aside. Maybe this is her chance to do a little good today. Maybe she can get him to open up to her, or at least lay the groundwork for him being willing to talk to someone.
“We could use another pair of hands,” she says, smiling. “Let’s go talk to your brother. Then we’ll see if we can’t help Ms. Starrett evict that crazy bird.”
Six
DAISY
“I’ve been looking all over for you.” Daisy plops down next to Marybeth, whose legs are stretched out in front of her on the grass. It is finally lunch, praise the Lord, which means half of the day is over, in the can, complete. “I wish you’d let me know where you’re going to be next time.”
MB tosses her blonde hair over her shoulder as she tilts her face back to soak up the sun. “We’ve been friends literally forever. By now, you should know that you will always find me wherever I can catch the most rays. So that’s one wish granted. What are your other two?”
The question is kind of flip, even for MB. Daisy used up all of her wishes when her mom was sick. And MB understands what it’s like to be without a mother, since MB’s own mom took off when she was a toddler. She and her dad haven’t heard from the woman since.
Daisy ignores the question and takes a slightly crushed bag of Doritos and a bottle of water from her backpack. The water is healthy, and the chips, not so much, so that counts as a balanced lunch, right? She was surprised to find the Doritos on the floor of the pantry. If they hadn’t fallen from the shelf, Dani would have devoured them days ago, and Daisy would have been left with plain old Lay’s. As she tears open the bag, she half expects Dani to drop from the sky, Mission Impossible-style, extend her well-manicured claws, and snatch the bag away.
MB takes one Dorito from the bag Daisy holds out and proceeds to nibble along the edge, as she does anytime Daisy offers her a chip. The girl is living proof that you can indeed eat just one.
“Where were you first period?” MB asks. “I waited by the lockers so long I was almost tardy. First Ben keeps me waiting, then you.”
Daisy raises her eyebrows. “I told you yesterday. The interview with Martha Yarn for the Howler?”
“Oh. Right.”
“So…Ben isn’t back yet?”
“Back from where?” MB asks. “All I know is that he didn’t pick me up this morning. I had to walk. And since he no longer has a working phone, I couldn’t even call to yell at him about it. Did he skip class?”
“Either that or he was called home,” Daisy says. “I saw him driving away when I arrived just before third period. Why didn’t you call if he was late? Dani would’ve given you a lift.”
Marybeth laughs. “Fat chance. Your sister hates me.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Dani answers automatically and then laughs, too. “Okay, maybe a little.”
“Anyway, having actually been in the car with Dani before, I’d rather be late. Life in Haddonwood may be dull, but I’m not looking to check out early, if you know what I mean.”
Daisy nods. She does know.
“Did your dad leave town this morning like he was supposed to?”
Daisy closes her eyes and sees her dad backing out of the driveway. Hears the two short beep-beeps from his horn. And then she remembers that weird feeling that washed over her as she stood on the sidewalk watching him drive away. She fights the urge to check her messages again, even though she checked them as she left the building. Even though the phone would have buzzed in her pocket if a text or call came through.
“Yeah,” she says. “Atlanta. He’ll be back Monday night.”
“That’s good. I’d say we should throw a party but having Officer Sexy next door kinda kills that idea. Annnd…now I know the answer!” MB rolls over onto her tummy. Her long legs are stretched out behind her, drawing stares from a group of guys walking past. One of them whistles, and Marybeth flips him off, the response so automatic that Daisy isn’t even sure MB is aware she did it.
“The answer to what?”
“Your other two wishes.”
“Shut up.” Daisy knows where this is going.
“Tucker dressed and then Tucker naked. Am I close?”
Yes, Daisy thinks. “No,” she says.
“Bullshit. I know you.”
“Can we move on, please?”
“Nope,” Marybeth says. “Anyway, it’s not like I blame you. I mean, sweet baby Jesus…if I had that living next door to me.”
“He barely even notices me.”
Is that true, though? Earlier today, Daisy would have sworn that Tucker would never see past their age difference. But he’d actually talked to her like she was an adult this morning. Like an equal. That’s not something she’s ready to share with MB, though.
“Well, then,” Marybeth says, “you have to make him notice. We need to come up with a strategy.” She reaches over and hooks one finger into the neck of Daisy’s T-shirt and tugs down, revealing several extra inches of cleavage and the top half of Daisy’s bra.
Daisy squeals and yanks the shirt back up. And then they both end up with a case of the giggles, like they’re back in middle school.
“I’m serious, though,” MB says. “You need lessons in making Tucker notice. Lucky for you, you have an expert at your beck and call.”
“And who might that be?” Daisy says. She knows perfectly well that Marybeth means herself, and she also knows that Marybeth has never been at anyone’s beck and call. Even her father jumps when she snaps her fingers.”
“Oh, you are fun-ny, Daisy Gray. When it comes to guys, trust me, okay? I know what I’m doing. Your lessons start tonight at the bonfire. What time are you planning to get there?”
For a moment, Daisy is
silent, waiting for Marybeth to remember. She’s spent most waking moments for the past few weeks working on the FrightFest. MB even offered, a bit grudgingly, to stop by and help with some of the last-minute sprucing up of the theater, since the construction people had cleared out a few days later than expected and left behind a major mess.
MB picks up on the silence, but not the reason. “You are going to the bonfire, aren’t you?”
“Sure. I’ll probably be there by around eleven. Need to be sure Dani doesn’t get drunk and fall face first into the bonfire. Dad will shit if he comes back to Freddy Krueger for a daughter.”
“You should come earlier,” she says, pulling her sunglasses down so that she can look Daisy in the eye. “This is our last bonfire before graduation. I need my bestie there to help me make fun of all the drunk people.”
Daisy is sorely tempted to point out that the bestie train only seems to be running in one direction these days. Otherwise, MB would be a little more attuned to things that are actually important in Daisy’s life. It occurs to her in that moment that her best friend and her sister are actually a lot alike. The epiphany is one of those things that seems painfully obvious after the fact but never dawned on her before. No wonder the two of them don’t get along. They’re both too self-absorbed to want to share center stage with anyone else.
She wants to remind MB that she made a promise. Beyond that, she wants to remind her that showing up for an event your best friend had worked on for weeks on end was definitely in the BFF job description, most likely in big bold print. But the bell is about to ring, and the day has been too weird for Daisy to want to stir up any additional drama. So she just says, “I’ll do my best. What about Ben?”
“We can make fun of him, too. He’ll probably be one of the drunks by the time you arrive. You know how he gets when he’s around his football peeps. That’s why you need to be there earlier. There’s only so long I can listen to bullshit tales about the three true loves of the great American male—cars, guns, and boobs.”
Daisy sighs. It’s a pretty solid description of the interests of most guys she knows in Haddonwood, with one notable exception. And Tucker may well have been like that in high school, at least before his parents died.
“They can’t all be like that, can they?”
Marybeth pushes her sunglasses back. “I hope not. Because if so, I’m seriously considering becoming a lesbian.”
“So that’s why you grabbed my shirt. Sneaking a peek.”
“You wish. I’ve seen everything you’ve got, girl. If I switch teams, I’m holding out for at least a D-cup.”
Above them, the bell rings, and Daisy feels the vibrations from the wall against her back.
“Back to the grind,” Marybeth says. “I’ll call you after school.”
Finally Daisy caves and drops one last, painfully blatant hint. “I probably won’t have time to talk. I’ve got to get things set up.” When MB gives her a blank look in response, she spells it out explicitly. “For the film festival. Remember?”
“Damn it!” Marybeth slaps the palm of her hand against her forehead. “I forgot that was today. So that’s why you won’t be at the bonfire until late. Do you still need help this afternoon?”
It’s clear from MB’s tone that she really, really hopes that Daisy says no. And Daisy would rather have no help than unwilling help, so she says, “No. I think we’ve got it covered. Some band members said they’d stop by. As they should, since Trent is donating part of the proceeds to new uniforms.”
This is kind of true. There was a sign-up sheet, and seven people had added their names when she checked last week. But most of them made excuses over the past few days, with several saying they’re sick, although she’s pretty sure all of them will make a miraculous recovery just in time for the bonfire tonight.
“Great! Have fun.” Marybeth disappears through the doors, swallowed up by the throng of students filing into the dark interior of the building like cattle through a kill chute.
Daisy stops short of joining the line and throws one last glance back at the football field, where lazy leaves are tumbling across the turf. The Grimshaw house lurks off in the distance, the hill forming the throne that the old pile of wood and rubble sits upon. It can be seen from virtually any point in town, and that’s always bothered Daisy. She wishes someone would buy the place, move in, and give it new life. Make it welcoming. A new coat of paint. Hell, anything to keep it from looking haunted.
Would it be worse seeing lights up there every night, though? Would they look like the house’s eyes, watching her every move with dark silhouettes behind open lids?
It takes a concerted effort, but she pulls her gaze away from the house and up toward the clear autumn sky. At that very moment, a white gash streaks across her field of vision. There’s no crackle. No thunder. Not even a rumble far off in the distance. The lightning—if that’s what it is, and what else could it be?—hangs for a moment just above the Grimshaw house, thinner fragments sizzling and fanning out like a spider’s web. She thinks she hears static and maybe screaming, but it’s too far off to tell. Which isn’t surprising, since the house is much too far away for her to be able to hear anything.
The second bell rings, and all other sound clears instantly. The not-lightning fades away, leaving the sky unscarred and unclouded. But the large windows in the Victorian up on the hill are now glowing a vivid blue. Even with the autumn sun shining down in full force, Daisy can see the light. It’s impossible, and yet…there it is.
Behind the windows, the light flashes once, twice, almost as if the house itself is trying to tell her something. She sways on her feet and almost falls, but the brick wall catches her and holds her upright.
Is anyone else seeing this?
She looks around. The grounds are empty now. Everyone is inside, and she is late for class.
Still, she stands staring up at the house, her back pressed against the bricks.
The windows do indeed look like eyes. Electric-blue eyes, glaring down at Haddonwood. And Daisy can’t quite shake the feeling that those eyes are looking straight at her.
CHAPTER FOUR
One
JULIE
The sound of wings flapping is followed by another shriek from the librarian, who is still standing on the circulation desk. Julie wishes she’d thought to get Chase’s brother to help them clear the creature out of the library before he left, but he’s barely going to make it before the fifth-period bell as it is—
Where the hell did that thought come from? She’s quite certain that Ben didn’t mention the period or what time he needed to be there. Julie never went to Haddonwood High. She didn’t even move here until… Her mind scrambles for the date, but it slips out of her grasp like a wet noodle. Even if she had gone to school here, she wouldn’t remember the bell schedule twenty years later. But she’s dead certain that fifth period starts at 1:10. Odd that her mind would latch on to a useless bit of trivia like that and yet be unable to recall the date she moved here.
Chase looks over the railing at the bird, which is still staring directly at him. “Can crows have rabies? That one looks sick. Its eyes are all weird. Do you think maybe it’s blind?”
“Not rabies,” Julie says, as they walk toward the staircase. “Only mammals carry rabies. You’re right about the eyes, though. I thought it was just a reflection.”
She doesn’t think it’s blind. It’s tracking them too closely as they move downstairs. No, not tracking them. The bird is tracking Chase.
Could the boy have done something to injure it? She thinks again about the article she read. Crows have long memories, especially for those who wrong them. Chase doesn’t seem like that type of kid, but it wouldn’t be the first time a child who suffered abuse decided to pass the pain along to an animal.
Julie suspects Ben is taking the brunt of the physical abuse, however. She saw him grimace when he got up from the library chair, moving like he was fifty years older with a bad back. Ben is likely st
epping into the fray on purpose, judging from his protective attitude. He accepted her offer to watch Chase reluctantly, sizing her up as Chase told him about the plan. But he was nervous about missing his test, so he finally scooped up his books and told Chase he’d see him immediately after school.
Chase had glanced at Julie, then reminded Ben about football practice. Reminded him that he’d be benched if he missed again. That the team needed him.
Julie realized then that she was dealing with a skillful negotiator. The original hour or so for his brother to take a test had just been extended to an entire afternoon of babysitting…although she guessed you couldn’t really call it babysitting with a kid Chase’s age. Somewhere between babysitting and Bill asking her to check in on the girls while he’s in Atlanta.
She told Ben to meet them at the Hart when he was done with practice. He protested, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. After all, they couldn’t risk the Howlers losing a game by having one of their starters benched.
She’s almost to the bottom of the stairs, with Chase just behind, when the librarian hurls a book at the bird. The creature caws loudly and swoops across the room, narrowly missing the woman, who shrieks again. Julie hurries over, hoping to help Barb down from the desk. She’s freaking out considerably more than the situation would seem to warrant. Her hair, normally done up neatly in a bun or twist, is wild around her face, and it seems to be crackling with static electricity.
Barb bends down to grab another book from the desk, nearly losing her balance in the process. She brandishes the book like a weapon, shaking it at the bird, which is now on the second-floor railing, just inches away from the desk where Julie had been working.
The librarian’s eyes move away from the bird, and she begins swatting the air in front of her. She hits a few motes of dust but nothing else that Julie can see. The woman must be seeing something, though, because a victorious look crosses her face before she turns a few degrees to the right and swats the air again.