by S. E. Akers
Kara jumped in front of me and stomped her foot. “Ugh! What are you looking for?!?”
“Nothing,” I evaded and then turned the tables on her follow-the-leader act. “What are you looking for? More glow-in-the-dark rings? Or crosses?” I laughed.
“You are sooo weird,” Kara remarked, shaking her head.
“That’s nice,” I replied in a honeyed-tone, ignoring her crack while I gave the locker room one last check. Whatever or whoever had been in here seemed to be gone, for now. I abandoned my surveillance and headed to my locker.
Maybe the little redheaded monster scared them away?
“I’m not the only one who thinks that, by the way. Practically the whole school. Mike, too,” Kara stressed.
Who cares, I thought as I grabbed my spare clothes and tossed them on a nearby bench.
When that didn’t trigger the reaction Kara desired, she added, “Even Ty,” with a cunning gleam in her eyes. I let her know she’d hit the right button by giving my gym locker an extra-hard slam.
“What do you want, Kara?” I snapped.
“Coach Hayes sent me in here. He said for you to, ‘shake a leg and that this isn’t your personal spa in here’.”
I glanced back towards the entry to the shower and let out a sarcastic laugh. “There’s no risk of that,” I assured her and started combing out my hair. “Just tell him that I’m coming.”
Kara threw her head in the air. “Tell him yourself,” she hissed and stormed off. I was just about to drop my towel when my little antagonist charged back into the room.
“I heard about the trip,” Kara announced as she prowled towards me. “I bet you can’t wait to be alone with them. Both of them.”
“Jealous, Kara? Is that what this is about?”
With one long sweep, Kara eyed me from head to toe. “Not hardly,” she vowed and shored up her words with a haughty scowl. “Why do I need to worry? I’m not forgettable,” Kara added and strutted out of the room, sporting a shit-eatin’ grin.
I whipped my towel off and hurled it at the now vacant space where she had been standing. “Bitch!”
“Who’s a bitch?” Katie yawned.
“Kara,” I confirmed as I wrestled on my spare gym clothes. No wonder she hadn’t sensed my panic in the shower. My got-your-back, bosom friend was taking what I needed more than anything — a daggone nap. “Have any pleasant dreams?” I asked dryly as I whipped my sopping hair into a makeshift ponytail.
“Yeah, I did. I was lying on a sandy, sun-kissed beach, and I could even hear the ocean roaring in the background,” Katie raved. “It was so real—Oh, sorry,” she halted abruptly. “Didn’t mean to rub it in.” Katie yawned again. “So how was that shower?”
“Wet,” I grumbled, still a little spooked. I grabbed my stuff, slipped the hilt in the center pocket of my sweatshirt, and hurried out the door. Coach Hayes greeted me with a morning detention slip as soon as I stepped onto the gym floor.
“Took too long, Wallace,” Coach Hayes blasted. “Gym is for exercise, not an opportunity for leisurely showers. Think about that the rest of this week.” He pointed towards the girls who were already shooting hoops. “Now grab a red vest and go join your team.”
I stared a hole in the back of my gym teacher’s head as he walked away. Leisurely shower? The only thing that would have made my shower experience worse was if Kara had rushed in waving a diamond-dusted hatchet around. My hair was half-washed, and I’d barely gotten a chance to scrub the rest of me, though the extra force from all those showerheads turning on did help beat the dirt off. Strangely, there was only one thing creepier than what actually happened during my aquatic escapade — whoever it was undeniably saw me naked!
Talk about catching someone with their pants down.
Once my detention slip had been properly crumpled and shoved into my backpack, I snagged a vest and joined my team. On the bright side, all that running around and dribbling actually helped dry my hair. Well to be fair, it may have had something to do with the fact that I rung out most of the water when I swatted my sopping ponytail at Kara’s face. I’ve heard softer “cracks” coming from wet towels.
Let’s see if she if she can “forget” the sting of that.
As entertaining as that was, it couldn’t make me forget about the unnerving supernatural shower-prank. One thing was certain. I wasn’t safe at school anymore.
At the first strike of the bell, I bolted out of the gym. I needed to make one slight detour before heading off to my sixth-period study hall. This conversation would be tricky with Katie listening. “Half-truths” were a must and would have to be believable.
As soon as I’d entered the Sciences building, I dashed up two floors, hurried straight down the corridor, and stopped in front of the last door on the right. There sat our school’s biology teacher at his desk, hovering over his microscope.
“Excuse me, Mr. Bary?” I announced with a few taps on his door.
Mr. Bary peered up with one eye still closed. “Oh, Shiloh. Please, come in.” I strolled over to his desk and beamed my politest, desperation smile. “To what do I owe this surprise?”
“I was hoping you could help me identify something,” I asked as I reached into my purse.
“What’s that?” Mr. Bary quizzed.
“A plant,” I said as I pulled out the veiny scrap.
“I’ll most certainly try,” Mr. Bary assured me as I placed it in his hand. Intrigued, he ran his fingers along its outline and then held it up to the light. “It has a subtle iridescence,” he remarked aloud. He walked over to the switch plate on the wall beside the door and turned off the lights. To our surprise, the plant started to radiate a mesmerizing neon-green glow.
“Well, I’ll be… Would you look at that,” Mr. Bary remarked, utterly amazed. Next, he sprayed some sort of solution on it. The drops of liquid quickly dispersed and swept towards the tips of its leaves, heightening its glow. Curious myself, I extended my hand. No sooner than my finger had landed on one of its edges, I felt a prickly shock, and then a tiny burst of green light shot out from the spot I’d touched. It startled both of us, so instinctively we ducked down. As soon as the light had faded, we rose back up.
“It must be sensitive to water,” Mr. Bary stated with a mindful stare.
I hurried to turn on the lights. “Must be,” I agreed with an uneasy smile. Or Talismans, I thought to myself confidently.
Heedfully, he whipped on a pair of latex gloves and continued his examination. It was just like watching C.S.I. After about another minute, I queried anxiously, “Umm… Got any clues?”
“There’s not much here to go by, but it’s not indigenous to our area.” Mr. Bary raised his brow. “Where did you get it?”
“I found it…this morning, beside my car,” I added artfully, knowing Katie was listening.
Mr. Bary tapped his fingers on the table. “To be quite honest, Shiloh, I don’t have the faintest clue.”
“Oh,” I mumbled. Not what I wanted to hear.
“How about I send it off to WVU?” Mr. Bary offered, picking up on my disappointment. “I know a few professors in their biology department. I’m sure a botanist could answer this riddle for you,” he encouraged with a trusting smile.
“I’d appreciate that.” My impatience swiftly kicked into gear as I watched him seal the plant specimen in an orange plastic bag marked,
BIOHAZARD
Handle With Care
“So how long do you think it will take?” I asked.
“Depending on their load in the lab…probably six to eight weeks. Maybe longer?” Mr. Bary handed me a piece of paper and a pen. “Here. Write down your address. I’ll have them send the results directly to you. But let me know what they find out, all right?”
“Will do,” I agreed as I jotted down my info. I handed it back to him, feeling a little more optimistic. “Thank you,” I replied kindly and then turned to leave his classroom.
“Anytime,” Mr. Bary called out.
No soo
ner than I’d stepped into the hall, my tenacious tag-along asked, “What was that about?”
“School hours,” I reminded her.
“Study Hall doesn’t count,” Katie countered. “Why do you care about a plant you found lying by your car? And why didn’t you mention it this morning?”
“I don’t know,” I evaded. Better think of something, I told myself. “It might tell me who broke into it.” Even I had to admit that lie was in the realm of sucky-bad.
“Sure it will, Nancy Drew,” Katie quipped. “A car burglar who just flips over driver’s licenses and leaves a plant as their calling card? Seriously?”
“Well, I said it might.”
“They didn’t take anything. Consider yourself lucky,” Katie contended. “What you should be focusing on is the case of the body-snatcher instead,” she insisted. “Now there’s a mystery worth solving.”
“I deserve that one,” I conceded with a guilt-ridden heart. “You’re absolutely right.”
With part one of the mystery taken care of, I snagged a library pass from my sixth-period study hall. Even though I was one step closer to discovering what kind of plant it was, I figured a little Googling could help out the search. I had no idea what to type in, so I started with a general, “vine plant”. Everything that came up was useless. Then I tried, “iridescent vine plant”. That routed me in a different direction. Adding “glowing” to the search field didn’t help. One wrong turn later, when I clicked on an entry for “exotic plants”, a ton of pictures and info popped up — all highlighting creative ways to grow your own in-home hallucinogenic flora. I attempted another search, but my computer screen froze and then went black. All of a sudden, a loud siren blared out of its speakers.
“Oh no,” I groaned.
Katie giggled. “What did you do?” she scolded.
I saw Mrs. Pendergrass, our school’s librarian, marching towards my desk in a huff. I didn’t have to answer Katie. She would hear about it soon enough.
“Ms. Wallace,” Mrs. Pendergrass voiced sternly as she shoved a pink detention slip in my face. I took it and let out a sigh. “I have strict rules in my library, about what you can and cannot search for on our school’s equipment.” The sixty-something woman lowered her horn-rimmed glasses and threw me a critical glare. “Drugs are No-No Number Two! I have to say I’m quite disappointed. I would have expected this kind of degenerate behavior from anyone other than you. Morning detention for a week and no more computer access for the rest of the school year. Zero-tolerance around here, Ms. Wallace!” She pointed towards the door. “Please leave!” she asserted with a steely smirk, her voice loud enough for the entire campus to hear. With her tirade complete, Mrs. Pendergrass strutted proudly back to her desk.
“I dare you to shush her,” Katie egged. Leave it to my plus-one to encourage me like a red-suited devil sitting on my shoulder, dying for me heighten the cross old lady’s foul mood.
“Perfect,” I griped silently to Katie as I rose from my seat. “I’m not only weird and forgettable, but I’m an alleged druggie too!” I looked at the slip. “She gave me a whole freakin’ week. Ugh! That makes two!”
“Awww… Now you have a matching pair,” Katie snickered. “You better straighten up, Missy. Santa won’t come to see you.” She laughed the entire walk back to my study hall.
Twenty-three minutes later, seventh period Art class was beckoning, just in time to shed a little light at the end of my long, dark tunnel of a school day.
“Class, today we’ll be wrapping up our chapter on abstract art,” Mrs. Mesure announced after the bell had wound down. “I want each of you to produce a composition using only geometric shapes in your design. You can choose any medium… Charcoal, acrylics, oils, watercolors… Whatever your inspiration demands. It’s totally up to you. But please be creative! I know you’re dealing with rudimentary shapes, but that doesn’t mean you can’t put some thought into it,” the always-trying-to-inspire teacher instructed as she unlocked the supply cabinet.
After I’d clipped a sheet of drawing paper to my table, I grabbed a set of pastels from their designated bin. I didn’t need to think long and hard about what I was going to draw. I just wondered how kooky even open-minded and artsy Mrs. Mesure would think my masterpiece looked in the end.
Sketching diligently the rest of the period, I mimicked each and every curve that I’d seen depicted on the emblem in my dream as if I were tracing it from a pattern. After a final check, I assessed that I’d duplicated every medallion to perfection and had laid them out precisely in their designated spots. Seeing that I’d already returned my supplies to the cabinet, Mrs. Mesure glided across the room with her grade book in hand. I was a little leery of her critique. Granted, I followed the parameters she had laid out and strictly used geometric shapes, but the image didn’t scream, “abstract design”. Nevertheless, my grade wasn’t important. I just had to get the strange symbols in front of me and out of my head.
“That’s interesting, Shiloh. Ummm… Very detailed,” Mrs. Mesure encouraged as she studied the sketch, graciously trying to amplify its strengths. “I know I preach all the time that art is subjective, but um…is it some sort of logo?” she guessed, straining to decipher its meaning.
“I really don’t know. It kind of just popped in my head,” I replied with an honest smile. “So I let my fingers be my guide. Isn’t that what you always tell us to do?” I added, trying to nudge her in the direction of an “A” in lieu of such a crazy-ass design.
“Jeez, Picasso. Just compel her already!” Katie whined.
“You know how I feel about that!” I griped back.
After a moment of quiet contemplation, Mrs. Mesure smiled as she placed a red check by my name and then proceeded to pen a curly “A”. No sooner than she had closed her book, the bell signaling the end of school rang out. I snatched my drawing out from under its clip, crammed it into my purse, and dashed into the hall. I needed to show my creation to Bea. The vivid memory had been revealed to me via one diamond wand and its hilt, so she had to know what it meant. But before I could do that, I had to put first things first. Katie was still down in the dumps, even though she was putting on a good front. I thought a surprise stop by her parents’ jewelry shop might perk her up. I could squeeze that in before visiting hours were over at the Gary Rehabilitation Center. I’d promised Samuel that I would visit with him today (mainly because I thought I would have great news on the Katie-front). Plus, I’d only gotten to see him a total of eight hours over the past month. Every time I would stop by he was either doing his therapy, asleep, or eating dinner. We couldn’t get our schedules to sync. He was due to be released in two weeks, just in time for Christmas. I was looking forward to that. I missed that warm, weathered smile of his. Samuel’s absence had made Daddy’s departure even tougher. An afternoon visiting with loved-ones was exactly what both Katie and I needed.
She could use a little cheering up…and so could I, I noted after another alarming mental replay of Gallia’s body crumbling before my eyes rolled through my head.
Just as I hopped into my Charger, it began to snow. It didn’t bother me much at first, not until the wind started whipping and swirled the falling flakes around in the air. I couldn’t get Gallia’s ashes out of my head no matter how hard I tried. Just as Katie was about to voice her suspicions, I pulled the amethyst out of my purse and clutched it firmly in my hand. Regardless of how tacky layering two necklaces looked, I was going to have to string my amethyst back on its silver chain and wear it at all times — just to be on the safe-side. The stone had to be touching my skin for it to work. After all, my hole had been dug, and my guilt had me planted firmly in it. It would be a shame to get buried by all of my lies before I even got a fair shot at rectifying them…somehow.
My bosom friend’s surprise turned out to be a big ’ole bust. With Katie limited to only hearing her parents’ voices while I carried on a two-way chat and sipped on her mother’s cinnamon tea, that unwittingly only intensified her sadness.
I really pissed her off when I raved that her mother’s gingerbread men (Katie’s favorite) were her best ever. I thought she would be happy knowing her mom had taken to some therapeutic baking to distract her sorrow, but I could sense my bosom friend’s emotions just as clearly as she could mine. The current sentiment on her menu was heartache, doleful and dismal heartache, with a side of aggravation. That, rest assured, was partly directed at me. The more Ron and Julia Stowell fussed over me, the more annoyed Katie became. Their attention made me uncomfortable, but I indulged them, for their sake. They missed their daughter. I was merely a suitable stand-in who they used to fill a void. But Katie didn’t see it that way, at least not today.
She didn’t say a word the entire ten-miles to Gary. By the time I’d reached the rehab center, Katie had plummeted so deep into a state of depression that I questioned whether or not an amethyst the size of a house could allay it. There was no sense in using one to mask her feelings. They would have to run a natural course.
“Katie, do you want to stay in the car?”
“No! Don’t leave me alone in the car! Someone might break in and steal what’s left of me, this time.”
“I can tuck you in my purse?” I offered as I reeled with guilt from her jab.
“I’m fine. I’m just…fffine,” she sobbed.
“Okay,” I mumbled somberly as I poked out of the car.
I had to practically drag myself into the building, knowing I stood a better chance of the sky suddenly raining gold coins quicker than Katie’s bleak outlook would improve on its own. Once I was officially logged in, I followed the signs towards the common room where I was told Samuel would be. There he was, playing a round of cards with a few of the other patients.
“I hope you’re not cleaning these gentlemen out?” I posed playfully to Samuel.
“Just their life savings,” he quipped back with a grin. Samuel laid his cards on the table and announced, “Gin. Sorry, fellows.” My presence seemed to stifle the discontent of his victims. One guy was on the verge of tears as he watched Samuel slide the hefty pot away from the center of the table.