Bad Girl School

by Red Q. Arthur

  “Not okay,” I said, getting to my feet. “If you won’t, I will.” I meant it, too. I left and was halfway down the hall in search of Evelina when I heard her calling my name.

  “Reeno! Wait, Reeno!”

  I let her catch up with me. “You don’t have to. I’ll do it.”

  I went with her, just to make sure she really meant it.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN—REMEDIAL PHYS ED

  So once again she missed a meeting. And it was a good one! The one at which we began to put my curse-removing plan into action. For that purpose, I arrived with my most prized possession— my Curly look-alike dog, which I put in the middle of the table.

  At first we did some levitation practice, finding him even easier to fly than books.

  We got him a foot in the air even without Kara!

  “Whooo, this is fun!” said Carlos. “But now what?”

  “Let’s see if we can steer. Everybody! Over to Cooper.”

  The stuffed dog leaned in Cooper’s direction but didn’t seem to be really moving until Sonya said, “What’s his name?”

  “I don’t know. I call him Curly, after my real dog.”

  “Come, Curly,” she said. “Curly, come.” The dog moved toward her, two inches, three… but that was all she could manage. Curly just hovered. But, hey, at least we were keeping him up.

  “Huh,” said Julia. “Must be a slightly different way to use energy.”

  “Or maybe I’m jus’ good,” Sonya said.

  “Let me try it,” Cooper said. “Here, Curly. Come, you mangy furbag.” The dog didn’t move at all.

  We all tried it to see who was best at it and it turned out to be Julia. Okay, that was information.

  We moved onto the next stop— once again getting the curse off of Cooper and into the dog instead of the astral basket we’d used before. Damn, it was a slog! That toxic slime of an aura was like Super Glue. This time we were onto its tricks, though. Once we had it in the dog, Sonya and Carlos together were assigned the task of keeping it there, while Cooper, Julia and I worked on building a psychic shield around Cooper.

  “Make it strong, make it tough, make it out of carbon steel,” I was saying. “Make it an inch thick. Now two inches. Wrap it around twice. Pay particular attention to his back. Plug up any holes. Now add another layer— make it uranium this time.” I’d heard once that they make tanks out of that. “Wrap it two more times…”

  We were so involved with what we were doing that we didn’t notice Sonya and Carlos until suddenly Sonya said, “Carlos, you faggot moron! What the hell!”

  As one, we turned to stare at her. She looked terrified. Carlos looked stricken. “It got away,” he explained.

  “Oh, Lord, I’m frickin’ possessed!” Sonya screamed. “You fucktards!”

  The more her mouth moved, the more her face became a tragedy mask. “At least,” said Julia, “we know it’s possible to transfer it. Okay, Sonya, here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to build shields around Carlos, Reeno, and me. Then we’re going to transfer the curse to the dog, and seal it in. Do you hear me? I don’t care if it takes all night. We are going to find a way to lock that curse in that dog!”

  Sonya looked dubious. “I don’t get a shield?”

  “We’ll build it after… uh-oh.” Julia had just realized what I had— that Sonya had uttered a whole sentence without an insult in it.

  “You ignorant moron retard jackasses!” came out of Cooper.

  Julia sighed. “I guess shield-building should be our new focus. Sorry, Cooper and Sonya. This was a royal screw-up. But we’re all tired. Let’s try again tomorrow.”

  ***

  When I woke up the next morning, Kara was in her own bed. “How’d it go?” I asked.

  She nodded, like someone pulling herself together to get up the nerve to speak. “Good. It went okay. Did you know that when teachers find out about abuse, they’re legally bound to report it to the authorities?”

  “Sure. Why’d you think I wanted to tell Evelina?”

  “Well, I didn’t know. Guess what?” She sat up in bed and I saw that her transformation was almost as pronounced as Cooper’s had been. “She’s calling my dad.”

  “Omigod, you’re almost yellow!”

  “What?”

  “Your aura’s clearing up.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It was muddy before. That’s the only way I can describe it. You’re looking so much healthier— in a psychic sense, I mean.”

  “Oh.” She blushed. “Hey, you want to go to gym together?”

  This was my first class of the day and though I was vaguely aware Kara was in it, we’d certainly never walked together.

  “Sure.” I got dressed, noting that for the first time Kara made her bed and tidied up. The day was starting out great. I was even up for calisthenics, which was how gym always started, rain or shine.

  I should have suspected things were about to go awry when I saw the Beast. He usually doesn’t turn up till afternoon.

  Lola, the teacher who leads the exercises, always goes, “Let’s start with neck rolls!” in this great hearty voice, which usually cracks her up. I had no idea what was funny till someone told me it was what Jane Fonda used to say. I’m still not sure I get it.

  But there I was, rotating away, when the Beast walked across the yard in front of Lola, talking a blue streak as if we were alone in an elevator. “Some things are worth fighting over; some things are not.”

  “So what else is new?” I shot back.

  “Tactic Five is this: Choose your battles.”

  In my head I reviewed Tactics One through Four:

  Fight smart, not strong!

  Know your enemy.

  Never underestimate your enemy.

  Work with available materials.

  Okay, so now I had five. “Choose my battles,” I repeated.

  “Now let’s streeeeetch!” Lola chimed, “Reach for the sky, ladies. Let’s open up those ribcages!”

  “Usually, you fight over everything.”

  I reached for the sky. “I do not.”

  “Since that subject is not worth fighting over, I shall ignore it.”

  “And how’d it get to be your point? I thought it was mine.”

  We straightened and reached for the sky again.

  “Hear me, Student. Choose your battles.”

  “Tactic Five. Fine.” Once again, I went butt-up.

  “Tactic Six: Choose your opponent as well.”

  “Now juuuuumping jacks!” Lola sang.

  I spread my feet in a potent leap and popped them together smartly.

  “In other words,” he continued, “don’t fight if you can’t win.”

  “Got it.”

  “One, two, threeee,” Lola warbled, stepping up the pace. The monster was oblivious. He was pacing like a sentry, barking out his little rules as if lecturing to a class. I was the only one who saw what was coming. “Now, kiiiiiicks!”

  “Lola! No!” But I was too late.

  Her right leg lifted like a rocket, her foot having neatly hooked the Beast under his blubbery tiger-pouch. As her leg reached its zenith— nearly at her robust melons— he sailed over her head, and in fact over the nearest building, some thirty feet behind her, and disappeared altogether.

  “Field goal!” I yelled. I was seriously amused.

  Fortunately, my little wisecrack was drowned out by all the squeals and screams and “Oh My Gods” that surged through the air like so many bird songs. I was about to holler, “Hey, Lola! Don’t you brake for animals?” when I suddenly realized everyone was looking at me. All concerned and sad, thinking I’d lost my sweet little fuzzy buddy.

  I could have had a total laugh-riot out there, completely cleared out all the tension, if I hadn’t had to act all sad and upset and brave. Thinking fast, I screamed, “Jag! Omigod, Jag!” like I’d just seen a car crash. And all of a sudden, I noticed we really did have a problem, and it wasn’t A.B.: Lola was on the
verge of collapse.

  She was still standing out on the field, going, “Oh no, oh no, oh no oh no,” which you could barely hear because she was holding both hands over her mouth. I ran over to her, yelling, “Somebody get Hal!”

  “Lola, it’s okay,” I said, and put an arm around her. “Jag’s a really tough little kitty. He’ll be fine— cats have nine lives and really, it wasn’t your fault. It was just an accident, because you love your work so much, and you were so into it. You’ll be okay. Lola? Lola!”

  She’d started screaming, just these loud, hysterical screeches, and she seemed to be sinking. There seemed only one thing to do, and that was help her down to the ground as gently as I could, and hold her. “Breathe deep,” I said. “Come on— you’ve got to pull out of this.” I may have spoken the least bit sharply, because all of a sudden she looked at me as if she might have a grain of sense somewhere behind her wild eyes. I hugged her close and patted her.

  “I wouldn’t hurt an animal,” she whimpered. “I’m not that kind of person.”

  “Well, of course you’re not. And you didn’t. It was really Jag’s fault— he got in your way.”

  “He’s just an innocent little pussycat.”

  Oh, brother. Trying not to roll my eyes, I said, “He’ll be okay. I promise.”

  “He won’t. You’ll be so lonesome without him. I know how you love that cat.” She started sobbing like she was the kid. I was just about at the end of my resources— not to mention patience— when Hal came running, followed by a gaggle of Upper Levels, fluttering like a flock of incompetent birds.

  “Reeno, I’ll take over,” he barked. “Why don’t you and, uh—” he surveyed the crowd and picked out someone he thought was my friend— “why don’t you and Kara get Evelina and try to find Jag?”

  I moved aside while he took over the care of the still-sobbing Lola and made my way through the sea of sympathetic eyes, all of them in the heads of innocents who thought the Alpha Beast was a fluffy little pet cat. Pretending stoic heartbreak, I joined Kara and put on the mask of a woman about to do what a woman’s gotta do— claim the body of a fallen comrade and bury it.

  Evelina was just arriving on the field. By now, the whole school knew what had happened, and the teachers were turning out to help the fragile bad girls get through the terrible tragedy that was probably going to set us back weeks in our brainwashing.

  “Come on,” she said to Kara. “Reeno, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I mean, it could be upsetting. He might be badly hurt.” She bit her lip, thinking he could be worse than badly hurt.

  “I have to,” I said bravely. “He might need me. What if he… you know… died, and I wasn’t there?” I paused and whispered, “I’d never forgive myself,” wondering if I’d gone too far.

  Three women on a mission, Kara and Evelina and I strode out through the gate, walked down the road, and knocked on the door of the cottage that housed the school’s nearest neighbor. It was pretty hard to keep a straight face while Evelina explained to the bewildered homeowner that there was undoubtedly a badly injured cat in her back yard, suffering from an accidental launching during a morning exercise session. The woman seemed terrified, probably because she figured we were all drug addicts and social misfits.

  But Evelina finally talked us into her yard, on the condition that we go through a side gate instead of the house. I fully expected to see A.B. sitting placidly on his haunches, daintily licking his paws, but, actually, he wasn’t in sight.

  “Jag?” I called. “Kitty kitty kitty?”

  Silence.

  I saw the other two exchanging glances, wondering if I was going to get hysterical like Lola. What I had to do was protect the Beast’s identity. I had no choice but to feign despair.

  “He’s not here,” I pronounced, mock-horrified.

  “He must be,” Evelina said. “Maybe behind that shed.”

  Maybe on the roof, laughing at us.

  But I followed her obediently to the shed and peeked around it. At the far end was a peachy-looking rag. Even knowing what I knew, I couldn’t look. I gave a little squeal and turned away. Kara, eyes like golf balls, put a protective arm around me, which was a first and then some. Only Evelina, being the designated adult, strode forward, her mouth in a hard, determined line.

  I saw her kneel down, put out a hand, and draw it back covered with blood. And then she started sobbing. “Oh, Jag,” she blubbered. “Oh, my poor, poor Jag.”

  After a moment, she came back and announced sadly, “We can’t help him, Reeno.”

  I saw that her hand was lacerated. “He hurt you!”

  “It’s nothing,” she said, as Kara went through her pockets, searching for a tissue to stop the blood. “His mind’s gone. Injured animals sometimes attack, you know? It isn’t their fault, they’re just so frightened.”

  Kara was unconvinced. “If he’s alive, there’s a chance— we have to get him to the vet.” She raced for him before I could stop her.

  Great. Next, she was going to be bleeding. Silently, I pleaded with the Monster. “Get it together, A.B. Evelina never hurt you. You’re just mad because I made fun of you. But Evelina is not me. She didn’t deserve that. You touch Kara and I’ll… I swear to God, I’ll let them take you to the vet.” It was an empty threat, of course— I wasn’t about to be responsible for what the Beast would do to anyone who jammed a thermometer up his butt.

  The voice that answered wasn’t his. It was old, and weak, and kind of desperate-sounding. “Help me, girlina. Keep these bloody humans away from me.”

  Like I wasn’t one. But this was no time to get my feelings hurt. I had to save Kara’s fingers and face. “Kara, wait— let me!”

  But I was too late. She screamed as if Freddie Krueger was after her, and come to think of it, there was similarity. But when she returned, pale and shook up, at least she wasn’t bleeding. “He went for me— I couldn’t get close. Oh, man, Reeno, there’s blood all over. He can’t live; we have to put him out of his misery.”

  I didn’t even answer, just marched in to do my duty. A.B. was spread out on the ground like a blanket, facing outward, eyes closed. Blood smeared the top of his head and his bottom looked more or less soaked. As I approached, he reared up, bared his razoroid teeth, and opened his mouth in a hiss from hell. Involuntarily, I jumped back. “That’s what I did to Kara.” The voice was his own again. “So she wouldn’t notice my ear’s missing. Find the bloody thing, will you? And my tail.”

  Oh, boy, this was sweet! The mighty Alpha Beast forced to seek help from a lowly bad girl. I’d probably have giggled except for the effect that would have had on Kara and Evelina.

  I looked up and saw that the tin roof of the shed had a jagged edge. He must have slid down it, and snagged on it, shearing off a few body parts in the process.

  “Lie still and let me check you out.”

  He didn’t answer, but on the other hand, he didn’t move. His tail was well known to be as tough as a steel cable— how on Earth could he have cut it off? I checked his rear end first.

  He hadn’t, of course— but he had a deep gash that was still bleeding.

  “Tail present and accounted for. What are you, a hypochondriac?”

  No answer.

  Evelina yelled, “Reeno, are you all right?”

  “Good kitty,” I said, cursing myself for a hypocrite. “You just lie still now. Gooood boy, Jag-cakes.” And then I yelled to Evelina, “I’m talking to him. I think he’s calming down a little. Could you just give me a minute with him?”

  I started crawling around on my hands and knees, searching for the missing ear.

  “What on earth are you doing?” Evelina called.

  “I lost my contact, but don’t worry, it probably didn’t go far. That’s a sweeeet kitty.”

  “A.B., talk to me,” I said in my head.

  The Beast said nothing. Had he bled to death while I was crawling around? That was certainly going to screw things up. Finally, I found the ear, cling
ing by a film of blood to a Coke can someone had thrown back there. Gingerly, I peeled it off.

  “Okay, I’ve got it,” I said silently. “What now?” Out loud, I said, “Now you just take it easy, kittykins. Everything’s going to be fine.”

  “Shmush it back in place,” he grumped, definitely not dead. “And make it snappy. I’m getting blood in my eyes.”

  A severed ear is a delicate thing, like a papery apricot with a thousand tiny veins running through it, tissue thin and slimy with blood. I had to look at it pretty close to get it properly positioned, which was fairly disgusting, but I wasn’t about to puke now that I was playing the hero. After some maneuvering, I finally got it right, a fact that became instantly obvious— the thing reattached like a piece of Velcro. “Got it, A.B. Now what?” a part of me said, while another went, “Tell me where it hurts, kitty-boy. Will you let me pick you up now?”

  “No!” he shouted. Or rather, said, in the I’m-the-boss-of-you-voice, “Whatever you do, don’t pick me up. Get something under me, like a stretcher. I’ve got three broken vertebrae, which won’t heal for another few minutes. By then, those two’ll probably euthanize me and I’ll lose another bloody life.”

  “Which would be pretty hard to explain when you come back. Look, I need help for this. Could you meow piteously, please?”

  Obediently, he began to make little kitty whimpers. I kept my back to the humans, pretending to stroke the poor, broken little thing. I’d noticed that Evelina was wearing a blue shirt over a tank top, which ought to serve the purpose just fine. “I think I’ve got him stabilized,” I called. Like some veterinary paramedic. “Evelina, can we use your shirt for a stretcher? And can you help me get it under him?”

  But it was Kara who brought the shirt over. “Evelina’s kind of falling apart,” she said, and turned her attention to the patient. “Oh, poor wittle thing. Does it hurt, Jag?”

  He replied with an unholy growl.

  “Sweeeet kitty,” I said, meaning, shut up, A.B.!

  We bore him back in state and ensconced him in my bed, since he spent so much time there anyhow. Hal was hovering, as well as a couple of teachers. “I think he’s going to be fine,” I said. “He’s just in shock. We need to bandage that tail, though.”