Why Did She Have to Die?

by Lurlene McDaniel

  “Aren’t you supposed to be in P.E.?”

  “I’m taking a break. The coach doesn’t care. Besides I’m better with the soccer ball than anybody else out there.” To prove his claim, Kenny dropped the soccer ball he held. He bounced it several times off his toes and knees. It didn’t hit the ground once.

  “I’m impressed,” Elly said with a bored tone. She ignored him and opened her English book. He still didn’t leave. Instead he plopped down under the tree next to her.

  “You—uh—you studying?”

  “Aren’t you clever? Picked right up on it, didn’t you?”

  “You know, Elly, you’ve got a real mean mouth on you lately.” Kenny’s blue eyes narrowed.

  The truth in his words embarrassed her. She gave him a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t know why I sounded so nasty. I didn’t mean to.” She smiled weakly at his glowering stare. “Sorry.”

  He leaned back on his elbow and spun the soccer ball on the tip of his forefinger. “So, when’s the cast coming off?”

  “A few more weeks. Then I have to build up my leg muscles again. The doctor says it’ll take a while.”

  “Playing soccer would help. I could show you some moves.”

  She grinned shyly. “I don’t think I can start with soccer. The doctor says I need to be careful at first. I don’t want to break it again.”

  An awkward silence filled the space between them. Kenny cleared his throat. “I kind of like your hair short that way.”

  Elly touched her super-short haircut, knowing that it was the best her mom’s hair stylist could do with the butcher job she’d made of it. “Thanks. I was getting tired of long hair.”

  “Look, Elly,” Kenny licked his lips and stopped spinning the ball, “I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a long time. I acted like a real jerk that day in the cafeteria . . . about the dance and all.”

  Elly’s mouth went dry. She’d tried to erase forever the day they’d discussed the dance, when she’d wanted him to ask her more than anything in the world. Instead he’d asked her about Kathy. She wondered if he knew that the tops of his ears turned red when he was embarrassed.

  “It’s not important,” she said. “All the guys wanted to ask Kathy.”

  “It’s important to me that you know something.” Kenny rubbed the palms of his hands over his dangling shirttail. “I wouldn’t have asked Kathy to the dance. I don’t know why I said such a stupid thing to you.”

  Elly traced a pattern in a deserted anthill, making lazy loops with a small stick. “It’s okay. I mean, you couldn’t help wanting to take her.”

  “But that’s just it. I didn’t really want to ask her.”

  Elly snapped her head up at his comment. She looked up at him doubtfully.

  Kenny hastily added, “Look, I’m not saying what I want to say. I’m sorry for the way I acted and I was wondering . . . you know. . . if you weren’t going with anybody else—well—maybe you’d go with me to the dance this weekend.”

  He’d said the last part so fast that Elly almost didn’t catch his words. She stared at him. “I can’t dance, Kenny. I have a broken leg,” she said, feeling incredibly stupid about pointing out the obvious.

  “So what? I don’t have a broken leg and I can’t dance either.”

  Elly giggled. If she accepted, their relationship would change somehow. Two months before, she’d wanted that more than anything. Now it frightened her. She remembered the outfit she’d bought for the dance. She’d have to slit the slacks so her cast would fit. And then there was Joy. . .

  “Well? What do you say?”

  He reminded her of an anxious puppy. Something melted inside her and she nodded. “All right. Sure. That’ll be fine.”

  Kenny’s face broke into a wide grin. “Cool. We’ll have a good time. My mom will have to drive us because of your cast, but we’ll have a real good time.”

  For the first time in weeks, Elly smiled an open, honest-to-goodness smile. Kenny helped her to her feet and handed her the crutches. Together they walked back toward the gym.

  * * * *

  “Yeah. That’s great,” Joy said after school when Elly told her about her date to the dance. But she didn’t sound very enthusiastic to Elly.

  “I thought you’d be happier about it.”

  Joy kicked a clump of dirt across the sidewalk. “But now I don’t have anyone to go with. I’ll be standing around all night with no one to talk to.”

  “Well, it’s not like I’ll be dancing all night, you know. I’ll be doing an awful lot of standing around, too.”

  “Sure. But you’ll have someone special to stand around with, and I won’t.”

  They walked on in silence. Elly realized that another gulf had opened between her and her best friend—first Kathy, and now the date. Elly suddenly felt lonely and isolated. She’d have no one to help her get ready. Kathy would have been excited for her. She would have giggled with her, helped her fix her makeup. But Kathy was gone. There was no one else.

  * * * *

  At dinner, Mr. Rowan frowned at Elly’s news about the dance. “It doesn’t seem right,” he said. “You going out dancing . . .”

  “I won’t be dancing!” Elly almost shouted.

  “Mike. Elly,” Mrs. Rowan interrupted. “Stop it. Elly had planned to go to the dance ages ago. You bought her a new outfit, remember? Why shouldn’t she go?”

  “It just doesn’t seem right,” Mr. Rowan muttered.

  Tears scratched to get out from behind Elly’s eyes. “Nothing seems right anymore. I never do anything right for you.” Her hands were shaking.

  “Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” Mr. Rowan said angrily. He scraped his chair away from the table and stomped to the back door. “I’m going out for a drive.” The door slammed behind him, and Elly sat in confused silence. It seemed to her that her father didn’t care about her anymore.

  “Honey,” Mrs. Rowan said as she reached for Elly. Elly jerked her shoulder away.

  “I’m going to my room.” She snatched her crutches and limped off.

  That night, Elly dreamed that she was walking down the school corridors, opening doors, looking for something. In every room, kids sat facing forward. They turned unsmiling faces her way as she scanned the room for—for what? Embarrassed, Elly retreated from every room, shutting one door and opening the next, only to be greeted by hollow, staring eyes.

  She felt panic as she searched and searched the endless hallway of doors and rooms. Her heart pounded and her palms began to sweat. It grew difficult to move, as if she were pushing against a powerful force.

  She awoke, gasping in terror. The cocoon of darkness settled around her. What was I looking for? She had no answers. But her cheeks and pillow were soaking wet.

  TEN

  “The least you can do is come to the mall with me and help me pick out something to stand around in at the dance.” Joy’s tone of voice made it sound as if it were all Elly’s fault that Joy didn’t have a thing to wear to the dance that Saturday. To avoid an argument, Elly agreed to go to the mall, hobbling along on her crutches. All the while, she wanted to be back home.

  “What do you think of this?” Joy paraded in front of Elly in the dressing room. She was wearing a bright outfit—a green top and white pants.

  She thought it looked better on the mannequin. “I think it looks interesting,” Elly hedged.

  Joy frowned at her reflection and tugged at the too-tight pants. “I look like a stuffed potato and you know it.”

  “Okay, so maybe you’d look better in darkercolored pants.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  Elly rolled her eyes. “How about a root beer? All this shopping is making me thirsty.”

  Joy grumbled as she changed. Then the two of them strolled through the mall toward the nearest snack bar.

  “Here, go buy me a root beer. I’ll wait on this bench,” Elly directed, thrusting some money into Joy’s hand. She settled onto the wooden bench beneath a hanging planter of flow
ers and propped her crutches next to her. Sunlight flooded from the skylight above, causing the flower petals to shimmer. Suddenly, Elly heard boys’ voices behind her. One male voice stood out from all the others. It made her stomach feel peculiar. The hair along her arms stood up.

  “I tell ya, we’ll kill West High this afternoon. I plan to pitch a no-hitter.”

  “I don’t know, big man,” another voice chimed in. “West High’s got the best batters in the league.”

  Elly froze. Russ Canton. She looked in the direction of the voices. Sure enough, Russ and his three buddies were less than twenty feet away, tossing down soft pretzels. He was dressed in his baseball jersey, and it stretched tightly across his muscular shoulders. His blond hair trailed over his forehead. His hands were large and powerful—an athlete’s hands. She remembered them on the steering wheel of his car.

  “Listen, those guys won’t know what hit them. Coach clocked my fastball at eighty miles an hour.” “I know where you live. Let’s go for a ride.” Elly trembled and sunk down into the bench, trying to make herself disappear.

  “Well, your pitching better be good, Canton. Your batting stinks.”

  “Look, it’s been a rough few months. I’m lucky I made it through basketball playoffs.” “I’ll go around the block and let you off. Then Kathy and I can go.” Elly desperately searched for Joy. Where was she? Why didn’t she hurry? The scent of flowers faded. Elly recalled the tingling bite of Russ’s aftershave and the smooth upholstery beneath the palm of her hand.

  “Come on. We’d better get a move on or we’ll be late to the field.”

  Elly spun, hiding her face. Her cast bumped her crutches, and they clattered to the tile floor. She reached for them, forcing down the panic in her throat. As she righted herself, her hazel eyes met Russ’s green ones. The image of Kathy Rowan flared between them. They both went pale.

  “Hey, Russ, what’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” his friend said.

  Elly suddenly felt bold. She fixed her gaze on Russ, daring him to look away. “He walked away without a scratch,” her dad had told her. “It was an accident. An accident,” Russ’s eyes said to her across the distance of twenty feet.

  Elly watched Russ shove his hands into his pockets and turn away. He began to jog away from the bench and his friends.

  “Wait up, man! What’s the matter with you, Canton?” one friend called out.

  Elly followed Russ with her glaring eyes until he disappeared into the crowd. Suddenly, she felt very sick to her stomach.

  “Sorry it took so long, but the line was a mile long.” Joy offered Elly the root beer. Elly just stared at it. The ice had melted and a film of brownish water pooled at the top of the cup.

  “I hate warm root beer,” she grumbled, knocking the cup from Joy’s outstretched hand. The liquid splashed all over the tile and up the side of the planter. “Can’t you do anything right? Don’t you know that I hate warm root beer?” Elly thrust her crutches under her arms and limped away. Joy just stared, open-mouthed, at her retreating friend.

  An eighty-mile-an-hour fastball. A forty-mile-an-hour car. Statistics. Two lived and one died. Statistics. One was hurt and one was unscratched. Statistics. Elly held back the tears until she reached the nearest restroom.

  * * * *

  “You look cute, honey. Doesn’t Elly look cute, Mike?” Mrs. Rowan asked as Elly stood in the living room, ready for the dance.

  Elly’s father lowered the newspaper and took a swift glance at Elly. “Fine. Just fine.”

  Elly felt disappointed. He’d hardly seen her. Now, if it had been Kathy. . .

  A knock on the door meant Kenny had arrived. Elly hurried out, grateful that he’d come to take her away. She decided that Kenny looked terrific in his khaki pants and navy blue sweater. He told her she looked good, too, in spite of the cast and crutches.

  At the cafeteria entrance, Elly felt a momentary wave of uncertainty. Kenny gripped her elbow, helping her through the door and into the dance. Plants and flowers lined the pale green walls. Baskets of flowers sat in the center of each table. Daisy chains hung from the ceiling and met in the center of the cafeteria. Overhead a crystal light spun and threw specks of rainbows onto the dancers below. A DJ, half hidden by a wall of greenery, played CDs from the old stage.

  Kenny made the rounds, saying hello to his friends. Elly tagged along, wishing she were happier about being here. She saw Joy and waved. Joy smiled and Elly was relieved that she’d forgiven her for the root beer episode. Joy had understood her reaction to seeing Russ Canton again. Joy was a good friend.

  “Do you—uh—you think you could dance a little bit?” Kenny’s question caused Elly to snap out of her sad mood.

  “I thought you said you couldn’t dance,” she answered.

  “Well, nothing fancy. But I can fake it through this slow song.”

  Elly’s heart pounded as Kenny took her crutches and slanted them against the wall. He held her hand, slipped his arms around her waist, and touched his forehead to hers. Elly put her arms over his shoulders and closed her eyes. The two of them swayed slightly to the slow beat of the music. The cast weighed Elly down, but also kept her leg from shaking. Kenny’s grip tightened, and the pressure of his forehead on hers made her feel lightheaded. His warm breath on her face smelled like cinnamon.

  “See, you can dance,” he said.

  “But I can’t play soccer.”

  “Plenty of time to learn.”

  Elly felt as if she were in a dream. The music ended all too quickly. Shy and flustered, she pulled away from Kenny’s embrace. Why did her legs feel rubbery? And why was her heart thudding so hard? Could he hear it?

  “I think I’ll go to the ladies’ room,” she said.

  “Sure.” His voice sounded husky. “I’ll get us some punch and wait for you over at that table.” He gestured vaguely and handed her the crutches. She headed toward the restroom.

  Elly paused at the door to catch her breath. She heard the voices of two teacher-chaperones drift down the hallway.

  “Doesn’t it just break your heart?” one said with a thick Southern accent. “Every time I see that sweet little Elly, I almost cry.”

  “I know what you mean. She puts up such a brave front, but it must be hard on her, losing her sister so tragically.”

  “Wasn’t Kathy a beauty? She had so much potential. It’s just awful that she died when she had so much going for her.”

  They were talking about her and Kathy! They were feeling sorry for her, pitying her! Elly almost gagged.

  “Isn’t it nice of Kenny Hughes to bring her to the dance?” the thick accent said.

  “Oh yes. It would have been doubly hard on her if she had had to come alone. And this whole evening is such a wonderful tribute to Kathy.”

  Elly pressed herself flat against the wall and inched backward toward the room full of kids. She saw the cafeteria in a new light. The flowers, the music—it was all for Kathy’s benefit. And Kathy didn’t even know about it. All her dreams would have been fulfilled this night—the perfect dance, a special date with Russ Canton, the adoration of her friends and family, and she would never know. Elly swallowed hard against the gagging lump in her throat.

  “Are you all right?” Kenny had come up beside her. A spray of rainbows from the lights sprinkled on his hair and shoulders.

  “Why did you ask me to this dance, Kenny?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I still think you really wanted to bring Kathy. You feel sorry for me, don’t you? ‘Poor Elly,’” her voice mimicked the ones she’d overheard. “‘Poor little Elly.’ Well, I don’t need your favors, Kenny Hughes. Do you hear me? I don’t need anybody’s favors. I’m calling my mother to come and get me.”

  Kenny stared at her, open-mouthed. Then his lips formed into an angry line. “Suit yourself, Elly. Go call your mother! If you really think I asked you because I felt sorry for you, then that’s your problem.”

  “Why did you ask m
e?” Her voice trembled and she held her chin up stubbornly.

  “You figure it out, Elly. And when you do, call me. Because I won’t bother you again.”

  She watched him stomp off toward the cafeteria door. Her fingers curled around the grips on her crutches and she squeezed until her hands ached. But she didn’t call him back.

  ELEVEN

  Joy cornered Elly in the girls’ bathroom on Monday just after first period. “So what happened at the dance? First, I see you and Kenny all huggypoo on the dance floor, then the next thing I know Kenny is all alone and you are nowhere in sight.”

  Elly gave her a bored look in the mirror. “My leg was bothering me, so I called my mom to come and get me.”

  “But your leg’s almost healed. Isn’t the cast coming off next week?”

  Elly ground her teeth over Joy’s questions. Joy knew her too well. “Stop with the third degree, Joy. I don’t want to talk about it. Did you have a good time at the dance?”

  Joy shrugged and answered, “If dropping my cup into the punch bowl and staining my new blouse counts as a good time, then I had a ball.”

  Elly smiled in spite of herself. She dug in her purse for her eye shadow. She used it and then turned to her friend. “Your makeup looks a little streaked, too.”

  Joy took some makeup from her purse and carefully put it on. “Thanks. I hate having phys ed in the morning. It takes me all day to recover. Maybe next year I’ll get a decent schedule.”

  Next year. They’d be ninth graders: the queen bees, the top of the heap. The clang of the bell caused Joy to grab her books. “I’ve got to run. If I’m late to math one more time—” She paused at the door. “Are you coming?”

  “In a minute,” Elly said, combing the short sides of her hair. “The crutches give me an excuse to be late, and so I take advantage of it.”

  “See ya later.” Joy fled the bathroom and Elly glanced around, realizing that she was all alone. The quiet made her feel uneasy. She let out her breath in one deep heave. It echoed hollowly off the walls. Alone. Elly was all alone. She pushed the thoughts of Kenny Hughes aside, determined not to think about him or to remember the feel of his arms around her waist.