by Jack Parker
They all got out of the car and began walking slowly toward the building, enjoying the fine Autumn day.
"I can see why he'd want to look into that," Cheryl said.
"Hi guys!" Amy called as she locked her car and joined them. "Nice day, huh?"
"Hi, Amy," they chorused.
"Too nice to be stuck inside the school, but I guess we don't have a choice," Gracie said.
"Who were you talking about looking into something?" Amy asked.
"Oh, just something Lieutenant Freeman said," Gracie told her. "He's not sure whether Mrs. Lane's death was really an accident."
"The woman was drunk as a skunk," Amy declared. "Of course it was an accident."
It had turned out to be a lovely day, and Gracie enjoyed it as she rode her bicycle home from school. All too soon it would be too cold for the bike and she'd be forced to drive her car. At least with the Prius she didn't have to feel too bad about what was coming out the tailpipe, and she had to admit that it really was nice to have a car and not be dependent on someone else.
She took the turn into the park, her regular route home on the bike. People thought it took too long to ride home; but with the park as a shortcut it was faster than driving, especially when you had to deal with the traffic and lights. She let the bike coast down a long gentle hill and allowed her eyes to rove over the pretty Fall foliage. She knew this path by heart and let her internal auto-pilot tell her when to turn the handlebars slightly to the left to negotiate a curve.
The next thing she knew she was sliding along the ground, the bike partially atop her. That's what happens when you don't pay attention, she thought as she lay there for a minute. Then she extricated her legs from the bike, stood up and dusted herself off and checked for injuries. Her left knee was scraped a bit and a clump of dried grass was stuck in the pedal, but otherwise she and the bike were fine. She got back on the bike and took off again.
As she neared the paved path she noticed a dark spot on the concrete, like something had been spilled there. She stopped and got off, knelt down to touch it. "It's not wet so that's not why the bike slipped," she said aloud. She wiped her fingertips across the surface, then rubbed her thumb against two fingers. "It's dry, but it does feel funny somehow, kind of slick. Maybe it's just my imagination." With a shrug she re-mounted the bike and continued home.
"I'm home, Gracie," Clarissa called as she entered the house. "Have you had dinner yet?"
Gracie opened the door to her room and poked her head out to answer. "No, I haven't. How'd you know I was here? I wasn't listening to music."
Clarissa grinned smugly. "Part of a parent's job is to be a detective and know what your kids are up to. Both your car and bicycle were in the garage."
Gracie smiled in return. "And neither Shawna's nor Kelly's cars are in the drive. But I could've gone somewhere with one of them." The look on her face said explain that.
"Your door was shut. You always leave it open when you go out," her mother said.
Gracie conceded with a laugh and walked down the hallway to give her mother a hug. "So that's where I get it."
Clarissa stepped back and looked at Gracie. "Are you limping?" she asked.
Gracie shrugged. "Took a spill on the bike, no big deal. Scraped my knee a little and my jeans irritate it when I walk."
"Put a bandage on it to protect it. I'd offer to do it for you but I'm sure you think you're too big for that kind of treatment," Clarissa offered.
Gracie's face took on an impish look. "You gonna kiss the boo-boo and make it all better?"
Her mother smiled with fond memories. "I will if you want me to. Come on, let's get it taken care of; you wouldn't want it to get infected."
Gracie rolled her eyes, but conceded that she would feel better if her jeans didn't rub the raw scrape. They headed to the bathroom to take care of it. Gracie hopped up to sit on the counter and rolled up the leg of her jeans to show the injury. "I didn't tear my pants so I guess it was the fabric that scraped my leg," she said. She scooted around to reach the sink and began washing it, wincing slightly at the sting of the soap.
"You've been riding a bike for awhile now," Clarissa said as she gathered the necessary items from the medicine cabinet. "How come you fell down?"
Yet another fall, thought Gracie. "Looked like someone had spilled something on the path, just at the curve," she explained. "It wasn't wet but the bike just slid right off as I went around it."
Clarissa squeezed a little ointment onto the bandage and gently placed it on her daughter's knee. "This will help keep it from drying out and kill any germs. Hold that there while I get the tape."
Gracie dutifully put the fingers of both hands on the edges of the bandage. "Mom? Do you believe in bad luck?"
Clarissa, holding a length of tape by its ends so it wouldn't stick to itself, gave the idea her consideration. "What kind of bad luck?" she asked. "As in, do I think you deserved to take a spill on the bike because you'd done something bad?" Carefully she put the tape across one side of the bandage.
"Oh, no! Nothing like that," Gracie said. "It's just that there've been a lot of accidents happening to people at school. It seems like we're having a big streak of bad luck, but that sounds so superstitious. Ken says I'm blowing little things out of proportion. Because of Mrs. Lane's death; I'm looking for something sinister in everything."
Clarissa finished taping down the bandage and indicated that Gracie could pull her pants leg down. "The last time you mentioned it Lt. Freeman hadn't decided what caused your teacher to fall. Has he learned something new?"
"No, he hasn't," Gracie said. "And it's bugging him, I can tell. He's not comfortable with its being an accident, but he can't prove someone killed her."
"So you've got accidents on the brain," Clarissa said, laughing.
"Maybe that's it," Gracie allowed. "Most of 'em are little things, unimportant; but a couple have been more serious."
"How is Meaghan?" Clarissa asked, knowing what one of those things was.
"Still in the hospital, I thought about going to see her this afternoon but didn't feel like it after I fell. And that's another thing, there seem to have been a lot of falls."
"What else happened that's serious?"
"Andrea somehow took some cyanide on Friday. They took her to the hospital, she's fine, but neither she nor Ken knows where she got it, or why."
"The girl that always wears all that primitive jewelry?" Clarissa asked. At Gracie's nod she continued. "Do you think one of those strange beads could have cyanide in it? Maybe used in processing it. Is she in the habit of chewing on them when she's thinking or something?"
Gracie considered the possibility. "I wouldn't have a clue, but that's a great idea, Mom. I'll pass it on to Ken and he can check."
"You said there've been a lot of falls," her mother continued thoughtfully. "Obviously you're considering your accident a fall. Who else has fallen?
"Mrs. Lane, of course. And someone broke Madison's taillight the other day and she Heelied over the pieces and fell." Gracie furrowed her brow in thought. "Travis fell down the stairs at school and, um, oh what was it! I know, Jennifer said Tanya's little brother tripped over a rock outside the boutique and skinned his knees." She chuckled at the memory of Jennifer's irritation. "She said the kid was a brat and deserved it."
"I'll bet she didn't say it in front of her customers!" Clarissa said. "Okay, I counted five falls or one sort or another, though the circumstances all seem quite different. Have there been other kinds of accidents? Besides Meaghan's wreck and Andrea's poison."
"Yes. Emily showed up with a case of poison ivy, which is weird considering it's not summertime. Serene's desk fell apart when she put her books down, and whacked her ankles. And…oh yeah, Shaun's locker door smacked him in the head."
"Well, except that these accidents all happened to people you know, or know of in the case of the little brother, they don't have a thing in common. I suspect they're all perfectly explainable, except possibly the te
acher's death." Clarissa put her arm around Gracie's shoulders. "Since you're injured let's go get a sandwich instead of cooking tonight. And you can forget about all these unrelated accidents."
"But that's just it," Gracie insisted quietly. "Somehow they seem to be connected, if I could just figure out how." She heaved a sigh as she mentally put the conundrum aside. "Can we stop for ice cream for dessert?" she asked hopefully.
CHAPTER 42
Tuesday's third hour class was nearly over, and Gracie was antsy waiting for it to end. She was hungry and ready to meet Kelly and Shawna, and maybe Cheryl, depending on the menu in Home Ec., for lunch. She heard the crackle of static from the P.A. system that presaged the usual mid-morning announcements. She mentally prepared herself for the usual fare; the cafeteria's specialty of the day, tonight's meeting of some boring club, reminders of upcoming or ongoing charity events. If we cared about those things we'd already know, she thought grumpily.
"Good morning, students," it was Mrs. Baker's voice rather than one of the assistants or aides.
Gracie sat up straighter, reflexively looking at the speaker mounted in the front corner of the room as if a face might appear there. A rustle of movement around the room told her most of the others were doing the same. This was not going to be the usual announcements, not if the principal was speaking.
"It is with great sadness that I must tell you that Meaghan Pruitt passed away this morning."
She paused for a moment, knowing that the students would need time to react before she continued. Indeed, there was a communal rush of air as everyone sucked in their breath, then let it out again. Various comments could be heard, such as "Oh no!" and "I thought she was okay" and just the simple "Meaghan!" Gracie knew she'd said something, but in her shock she had no idea which of these words had come from her mouth. It didn't matter.
"Mrs. Pruitt asked me to tell you that Meaghan succumbed to internal injuries and died peacefully in her sleep. She asks that you pray for Meaghan's soul, and for her family and many friends. She will let me know when the funeral will be held." Mrs. Baker's voice cracked with emotion at the end such that everyone assumed she was crying. "I know we'll all miss Meaghan greatly." She sniffled. "Under the circumstances, third hour is dismissed immediately. Thank you."
Everyone sat rooted in place, looking at one another helplessly. Some of the girls were crying, most people were still muttering inane things. The teacher closed her book and erased the blackboard without any mention of the day's homework. After a couple of minutes those students who weren't particularly good friends with Meaghan packed up their backpacks and left, albeit quietly. Those left stood up uncertainly; one sobbing girl threw her arms around Gracie who found herself returning the hug just as fiercely.
Gradually the kids left the room, meeting up with friends in the hallways or heading for pre-arranged meeting spots though lunch wasn't uppermost on their minds. Even the people who hadn't known Meaghan well were stunned by her death. Gracie grabbed her backpack and began walking slowly down the hall. She'd dealt with the death of her father last Spring, but found that the experience didn't help, didn't make it any easier a second time. Her father had been murdered – deliberately shot; Meaghan had had a car wreck. It should make a difference, she thought. Except that it didn't. Meaghan was still dead even if it had just been an accident.
Gracie made her way toward her locker, suddenly wanting to meet her best friends and make sure they were still alive and all right. She wanted to see Shawna and Cheryl and Kelly; especially Kelly. She watched other friends meet and recognized the look that said "I'm so very glad to see you." She walked faster.
Bobby ran up beside her and asked breathlessly, "Have you seen Amy? She's not in class, I checked."
Gracie shook her head dumbly, managed to mutter, "Sorry, no."
Bobby ran on and a minute later she saw him standing with Amy. He reached out as if to put his hand on her arm in sympathy but she twisted away. He must've asked her something because Gracie saw her shake her head 'no'. She turned the corner and forgot all about them as reached her locker and shoved her books inside.
She took off down the hall heading for the exit but she got caught up in a knot of people all trying to get through the door at the same time. With effort she made herself relax; Kelly wouldn't leave without her and the line was moving at a reasonable pace. She saw Allison and Jennifer standing by the wall talking. She thought about saying something to them, but she wasn't sure what it might be.
"I think so," Jennifer was saying as Gracie neared them. "She hadn't been feeling well and she'd been puking."
"Don't be silly!" Allison responded. "You don't die from being pregnant, even if you lose the baby in a crash. Besides, she'd have told us."
The line moved ahead taking Gracie with it. Oh my God, Gracie thought. What an awful rumor to be spreading now. Why can't they just let Meaghan rest in peace?
She made it out the door and ran to the parking lot to find Kelly standing beside his car waiting for her. She fell into his arms and allowed her tears to flow.
The rest of the day passed in a fog. Gracie decided it was probably for the best that they'd had to stay in school; it forced her to think about something else. She remembered she'd insisted on going to class in the days immediately after her father's death for the very same reason. It was something normal to hang on to, something that hadn't changed.
She was looking forward to spending the afternoon with her friends; they were coming to her house. From there they'd all go to the pizza parlor where everyone was gathering in sort of a wake for Meaghan. On her way out she saw Brittney limping along ahead of her. She caught up to her and asked, "What happened? Did you hurt your foot?"
Brittney turned and gave her a wan smile. "Oh, hi, Gracie. Yeah, fell off my bike yesterday, hurt my ankle."
"Really? So did I!" Gracie said. "I was riding through the park, didn't make a turn and went sliding through the grass. Well, I skinned my knee a little, instead of hurting my ankle."
"The park?" Brittney asked. "That's where I was, too! The turn at the bottom of that long hill?"
"That's the place," Gracie agreed with a nod.
"Guess it was a sharper turn than I thought," Brittney said. "I don't usually go that way, but yesterday I was going to visit my grandma. She hasn't been feeling well and I wanted to do a few things for her. Vacuum the floor, run a couple loads of laundry; things she doesn't need to be worrying about right now."
"That's sweet of you, Brittney," Gracie told her.
"Yeah, well, she thought so too." Brittney seemed a bit uncomfortable with the praise. "You coming tonight?" she asked, changing the subject.
"Sure. See you there," Gracie replied. She noticed that many people avoided mentioning the reason for the gathering and didn't press the issue. She gave a little wave as she started walking away. "Take care of the ankle," she said over her shoulder.
As Gracie walked by the principal's office she saw a group of girls standing amidst what looked like a small pile of toys. She caught sight of Allison and went over to see what was going on.
"We're putting together a memorial to Meaghan," Allison said. "See, Andrea's working on a poster and people have been bringing stuffed toys and flowers and poems." She waved her had to indicate the items in the pile. "You want to stay and help us get it organized? I'm sure there'll be a lot more tomorrow morning."
Gracie leaned over to see what Andrea was putting on the poster. "Looks good, Andrea. Very tasteful."
Andrea looked up and Gracie could see her eyes were red from crying. "Thanks. It's just my way of remembering her," she said.
"I'm sure there'll be a ton of stuff tomorrow, Allison. But I kind of think people would like to choose where they put the things they brought. Thanks for asking, but I'd really rather go home now. I'll, uh, I'll think about what I want to contribute."
"No problem," Allison said. "We'll just stick around here for a bit and sort out what's here, then let it grow on its own. See you lat
er, Gracie."
Gracie waved as she left, made it outside to the bike rack without being waylaid by anyone else and headed home. She took the route through the park but refused to let her mind wander today so she could concentrate on riding. From half-way down the gentle slope she could see something scattered over the curve and slowed the bike, ready to swerve into the grass if it looked dangerous. But it appeared to be just sand, as if the city maintenance crew had deliberately spread it to counter whatever had been spilled yesterday. She crunched through it slowly, then pedaled faster after she was past.
Kelly was waiting in the drive when she got to her house. "Did you have any trouble through the park today?" he asked.
She swung her leg off the bike and walked it to its place in the garage. "Nope, no trouble, didn't fall down. But someone had spread sand around the curve, so maybe I wasn't making it up when I said it looked like something had been spilled."
Kelly gallantly offered to take her backpack as she shrugged out of the straps. "Good. Probably they put the sand down to keep anyone else from getting hurt."
"Hey! I just remembered. I saw Brittney limping after school and she said she'd gone through the park yesterday and fallen at that same curve." She unlocked the back door and let them into the house.
Kelly shrugged. "Who knows what happened; the point is it's fixed now. Brittney wasn't hurt was she?"
"Nah, just banged up her ankle a little," Gracie replied. "I don't have much homework, what about you?" She busied herself with getting them both something to drink; water for her and sun-tea for Kelly. It was getting harder to brew now that the days were shorter so she'd taken to putting the jar in the window first thing in the morning. He seemed to appreciate her effort, and it was a small enough thing to do to please him.
Kelly laid both book bags on the dining room table, their usual homework spot. Gracie's mom had never said anything about him spending time in her bedroom, but he felt more comfortable out here when they were supposed to be working. Less possibility of distraction, he thought. Plus it looks better if I'm not always in there. "Don't have much, either. Guess the teachers figured we probably wouldn't get it done tonight anyway."