Bitterroot Crossing

by Tess Oliver

  No one knew much about the girl. Her crazy mom and grandma had kept her holed up in their little farm house on the mountain. I remembered the whole town watching as the ambulance raced up the hill to their farm only to return at a snail’s pace with no lights or sirens. Apparently the mom had died in her sleep and there was no attempt to revive her. And even then, the girl had not left the house.

  Dylan, Johnny, and Tina strolled over and leaned along the wall. They all stared down the road as the small figure drew nearer. “Didn’t your parents ever tell you not to stare?” I asked.

  Johnny pushed his black sunglasses onto his head. “Come on, bro, we’re all stuck in this friggin’ town. You’re not going to deny us some fun. I mean when do we ever see a new face at school? She’s supposed to be some kind of a freak of nature.”

  Tina giggled. “That must be why she’s wearing that hood. We’ve got to see what she looks like.”

  The girl fished a folded sheet of paper out of her bag as she stepped onto campus. She read it and stopped in front of us. Her face stayed hidden. “Pardon me, could you point me toward building two?”

  It was a sweet, soft voice.

  “It’s sort of hot to be wearing a hood,” Tina sneered.

  “Yes, it’s very warm,” the girl answered.

  “What are ya hiding under there, witch warts?” Dylan asked and the others laughed, Tina the loudest. Then my bitchy girlfriend focused on the girl’s boots.

  “Hey, I think my granny used to have boots like that. Tina leaned down to get a closer look then straightened. “Except hers weren’t creepy looking like that. One looks bigger than the other.”

  The girl’s head bent down to look at her own boots. “Yes, one is built bigger because my left leg is a bit shorter than my right. The boots are quite ugly, but they make it easier for me to walk.” She spoke matter-of-factly, no embarrassment, no shame.

  Tina nearly doubled over with laughter. She caught her breath long enough to show her evil side again. “Everyone in town thinks you’re a freak. And from what we’ve seen so far . . . .”

  The girl stood silently for a minute then her head turned toward Tina. “You are very pretty. I love the color of your hair.” There was no sarcasm in the tone, just plain, sweet honesty. Tina was dumbstruck. The unexpected kindness left her bitchy tongue tied in a knot.

  I smiled and jumped off the wall. “Building two is the green one over there.” I pointed to the building she was looking for.

  “Thank you so much,” she said quietly.

  “No way. I’ve got to see what’s underneath.” Tina lunged toward her. She grabbed the girl’s hood and yanked it off her head.

  Stunned, the girl looked around at all of us. I sucked in a breath and I’m sure I heard the others do the same. Suddenly the ground beneath our feet began to vibrate, a swirling breeze drifted through the trees sending their branches into turmoil, and a shower of leaves rained down on our heads. A strange acrid smell filled the air. The girl returned her hood to her head and scurried as fast as her uneven boots could carry her to building two.

  The breeze disappeared and the ground stopped shaking as we stood speechless, watching the tiny figure shuffle away.

  Dylan grabbed my arm. “Bro, did you see that face?”

  “Yeah,” I answered quietly. I watched the girl disappear into the building.

  I glanced over at Tina. Her lips stretched into a thin line, and she looked like a kid who’d gotten coal in her stocking at Christmas. As I headed to class, I closed my eyes for a second trying to picture the girl again. She had the most incredible face I’d ever seen.

  Chapter 4

  When I was little I’d set up my stuffed animals and pretend to be their teacher. I’d always pictured how a schoolroom might look, cozy, bright, a place where the wonders of the world were revealed. But never had I pictured a cramped, stuffy room with a cold, scuffed tile floor, yellowed ceiling, and buzzing lights that made everything a ghastly shade of green. The desks were small and looked very unstable. The teacher, a tall, grumpy looking woman, was hastily scribbling some math problems on the white board in front of class. No other students had arrived yet. She finished writing the problem before stopping to address me. As she turned her eyebrows arched up higher for an instant.

  “You must be Jessie Sterling. The office told me you’d be starting today.”

  Her heels clacked loudly in the empty room as she walked over to shake my hand. “I’m Mrs. Hoffman. You’ll need to remove your hood. No hats or hoods allowed inside.”

  I peeked over at the window. On the long walk up the hall, I’d tried to convince myself that the anomalies outside when the girl stripped me of my cover had been just a coincidence. I slid off my hood and smiled up at the woman. She stared down at me for a moment, open-mouthed.

  “Oh, my. So the rumors are true. You do resemble your ancestor.” She peeked over at the window and shivered as though something had crawled up her spine. Then she grinned nervously at me and strolled over to her desk to shuffle through some paperwork. “Mind you, I’ve only seen a small, tattered picture of her. And it was one of those faded brown daguerreotypes but the resemblance is uncanny.” She found the paper she’d been searching for. “It says here you’ve been home schooled until today.” She moved to the front of her desk and rested her bottom against it. “I knew your mom. She was definitely the smartest girl in school, but I seriously doubt she was able to teach you everything you needed to know in high school. And with only two years left here, you may never be able to catch up.”

  My enthusiasm for attending school had dropped significantly since I’d kissed Nana good-bye this morning. “I’ll work hard and try to keep up.”

  Laughter and talking turned our attention to the door. It swung open. The students were arriving. Mrs. Hoffman pointed to a desk in the back. “No one sits there.”

  I dropped my bag on the floor, removed my cloak, and slid into the wobbly seat. It took me a moment to realize that all the voices had muted. I peered up. Everyone’s eyes were on me. Mrs. Hoffman broke the silence. “This is Jessie Sterling, our new student. Please make her feel welcome.” They scattered to their seats but most of them were still watching me as they plunked down.

  The door swung open again and the boy who’d been sitting on the wall walked in. He looked a bit wild, uncontrollable, but I liked his face. And he’d been the only person I’d met so far who had not had something biting to say. All he’d done was point me in the right direction for my class, but at least no nasty comments had accompanied the directions. The boy walked to the back and sat down three seats away. I flashed him a little smile. He returned it with an intense blue-eyed stare before his mouth tilted up on one side.

  Mrs. Hoffman clapped her hands loudly to get everyone’s attention. “Your review problems are on the board. Start working. I’ll be checking your calculations as you work.”

  A quiet groan rolled around the room as heads dropped and pencils started moving. I fished out my own pencil and worked.

  Several minutes later, a tall shadow fell over my paper. “Jessie, do the best you can. I’m sure this work will be very difficult for you.” Everyone stopped and took the opportunity to look back at me.

  I glanced at the board and at the calculations on my paper. “Am I correct so far?”

  Mrs. Hoffman pushed her glasses higher and peered down at my paper. Her mouth twisted into a bow. “Hmm, yes, so far you are correct.” She continued up the row seeming almost flustered by the fact that I knew how to do the math. She said she knew my mom growing up, and suddenly I wondered if she was someone my mom had liked. Something told me she wasn’t.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could sense the boy with long hair was watching me again. It was a bit unsettling, and I decided not to look his way.

  After a few minutes, Mrs. Hoffman drew our attention to the front board. “Who will volunteer to do problem number one on the board?”

  All the students in the room slouched down simul
taneously. One boy, it seemed, even purposely dropped his pencil so he could dive under his desk to get it. Silence filled the room as Mrs. Hoffman scanned the faces.

  The prospect of writing on the shiny, white board with the thick, blue pen was more than intriguing to me. I raised my hand.

  “Fine, Jessie, why don’t you come up and give it a try.”

  The minute I stood I regretted my enthusiasm for writing on the shiny board. Several steps into what seemed like an endless journey to the front of the room, I heard snickers and giggles. I’d been such a fool convincing myself that I’d perfected a normal walk and that no one would notice my legs.

  My hands trembled by the time I reached the board. I picked up the fat pen and wrote out the calculations as fast as I could. The walk back to my seat was nearly as torturous. People stared down at my boots. Nervously I peeked over at the boy with the long hair. He wasn’t staring at my boots. In fact his gaze never left my face. There was no ridicule or humor in his blue eyes. It was something else. The look he gave me made my cheeks feel warm. I was more than relieved to reach my seat.

  “Perfect, Miss Sterling. I could not have done better myself.”

  She looked around the room again. “Now who will do number two?” Again came the dreadful silence and students shrinking down in their chairs. Finally Mrs. Hoffman’s glare landed on someone in the back. “Mr. Crush, it has been a while since you’ve come up to the board.”

  I startled when she said the name. And then he stood, the boy with the long hair and unsettling gaze stood to walk to the front of the room. The one person who had taken the time to be polite to me was the great-great-grandson of Zedekiah Crush.

  Chapter5

  Shortly after first period I discovered something else I loved about Tina’s tight pink t-shirt. It was easy to spot in a crowd. A flash of pink caught my eye as she was headed toward class. I dashed around the corner hoping she hadn’t spotted me. This morning’s ugly scene out front made me think twice about my girlfriend. I mean I knew she could be a terrible bitch, especially to other girls, but cruelty like I saw today was a whole other deal. Yeah, she was beautiful, wild, and willing to do just about anything a guy could want, but all those perfect girlfriend attributes were meaningless when you had to resist cringing every time she opened her mouth.

  Tina’s latest victim, Jessie Sterling, was meandering down the hall with her heavy cloak around her shoulders. She glanced back and forth from her schedule to the numbers on the door. Twice I caught a glimpse of her amazing profile, a profile I had basically memorized during Mrs. Hoffman’s mind numbing math lesson.

  Suddenly the gym doors flew open and a crowd washed out of the locker rooms and into the narrow hallway. Jessie pressed her back against the wall to avoid the stampede. I edged toward her through the crush of bodies. By the time I reached her, she looked on the edge of full panic.

  She looked up at me, her green eyes wide with fear. I took hold of her arm. “Out here.”

  I led her to the emergency escape exit and pushed out into the small yard where the school’s electrical boxes and maintenance equipment was kept. The second we stepped into the sunlight, a gust of wind blew through the tiny yard. She sucked in a breath, pulled out of my grasp, and yanked her hood onto her head. I was more than a little bummed that most of her face was now concealed by it, although I could still see her lips, which were, by themselves, pretty damn awesome.

  “Guess you’re not used to having so many people storm toward you like that.”

  She shook her head. “It was silly of me to be so scared. But, yes, it was a lot of people. I didn’t realize how many kids went to this school. I’m Jessie, by the way.”

  “I’m Nick. Unfortunately there aren’t too many school choices here in Bitterroot Crossing. In fact, this is the only choice.” The bright sunlight seemed to dim. I squinted up toward the sky. I sensed that Jessie had looked up too. Strange swirls of black smoke circled above us. We both stood there silently watching as the black mist thickened, coiled like a snake, and then evaporated into thin air. “That all has something to do with you, doesn’t it?”

  “Quite possibly. Although I hope not,” she said.

  Without warning, one of the town’s sirens pierced the air. Jessie startled and grabbed my hand with her small fingers. Instantly the skin on my hand tingled sending a shiver up my arm and across my shoulders. She released me as quickly as she’d grabbed me. Once her touch was gone a sort of sadness washed over me like I’d lost something I really wanted, really needed.

  Jessie stared down at her palm as if she’d felt the same sensation. She lifted her chin high enough to look at my face. Suddenly I was thankful for that cloak she wore. Standing this near to her and seeing her face this close up made my heart rock wildly in my chest. I was sure I could hear it pounding.

  “Are we going to be late for class?”

  I was so busy staring at her like a moron it took me a second to figure out what she’d asked. “No, we’re not late.” I peeked through the small hazy window in the exit door. The hallway was mostly empty. Just then my phone vibrated in my pocket.

  Jessie stepped back. “Your pants are buzzing.”

  I smiled down at her and fished out my phone. It was a snarl message from Tina. I referred to most of her messages as snarls because no one could text over an angry tone through a few letters like Tina. “It’s my cell phone.”

  Jessie’s eyes widened as my thumbs flew over the keypad. I sent Tina back a snarl message of my own then nodded toward the door. “I guess we better go back inside. I’ll show you to your next class.” I opened the door and looked both directions to make sure there was no angry pink in sight. The coast seemed clear.

  “Crush! What were you doing at the emergency exit?” Hammersmith’s loud voice rumbling in the nearly abandoned hallway caused Jessie to jump. Instinctively I felt the need to protect her. The urge had come from somewhere down deep. I stepped in front of her to block her from Hammersmith’s scorn and turned slowly to face the man.

  The principal’s close-set eyes skewered me with the usual mistrust. While I was definitely no angel, his wrath against me was mostly underserved. But with a last name like Crush, most people in this town were quick to judge me. Hammersmith was no exception. Supposedly he’d been a distant relative of the Bridger family, although no one seemed to know that for sure. The real Bridger descendants had moved out of town when my dad was young. They couldn’t take the pressure of living in a haunted town. Far as I was concerned, the Crush Gang was the only cool thing about this place.

  “Don’t you know what that emergency exit is used for?” he asked.

  “Emergencies?”

  “Very funny, Crush.” He always added a special emphasis on my name. “I know you were out there smoking.”

  Jessie stepped around me. Hammersmith had obviously not seen his newest student yet. He stared down at her like a speechless fool. Couldn’t blame the guy really. “Please, sir, he wasn’t smoking. I was feeling dizzy and he saw that I needed some air. This exit was the closest door.”

  “Uh . . . uh, well fine then.” His usual asshole expression faded as he gazed down at her. For a moment he almost looked human. Then he turned his attention back to me and the furious expression returned. “Don’t let me catch you out there again, Crush. Now get to class.” He stormed past, his entire demeanor returning to the familiar, self-important jerk I’d grown so fond of.

  Jessie handed me her class list. We walked several doors down, and I was about to open the door when the town’s sirens rang. The students inside cheered. I pulled Jessie out of the doorway. Every door swung open and people filled the hallway again. The sirens blared so loudly now, the school building shook slightly on its foundation. Through the chaos, a slim hand grabbed mine. As small as it was, it sent a tremor through my arm, and I could almost swear the vibration jolted my heart. I squeezed the thin fingers without looking down and walked her through the swarm of bodies to the exit.

  There
would be no more school today. The loud, consistent bells outside were a warning to get home and behind locked doors. The Crush Gang was about to make an appearance.

  Chapter 6

  It seemed as if the entire student body of Bitterroot Crossing gushed from the two front doors of building two as we exited. The rush of bodies took my breath away and made my head spin just like moments before in the stuffy, impossibly narrow hallway. If Nick Crush had not been holding tightly onto my hand, I surely would have tumbled headfirst down the crooked concrete steps leading to the yard. Without a word between us, he led me safely to the front of the school. Parents were already lined up out front in a row of cars waiting to escort their children home. The owner of the sandwich shop across the street was dragging his chairs and tables inside and his next door neighbor, the pharmacist, had already shut his doors and pulled down the window shades.

  The Crush Gang could not enter any building unless they’d been asked inside. They’d been hung outside on the scaffold built just for the occasion. After their bodies were displayed out on Main Street for all to see, they were thrown in the swamp. This series of events had apparently kept them from haunting the interior of any building without permission. My mom had told me that when she was a young girl, the town’s minister had invited them into the church convinced that he could save their souls and send them to a peaceful eternity. They were not inside but ten minutes when the church, steeple and all, collapsed to the ground in flames. The minister managed to escape. He packed up immediately and left town for good.

  I gazed up at the face of the boy who still held my hand. The sunlight danced off the golden streaks in his long, sandy blonde hair. I hadn’t ever been this close to someone my own age, especially a boy, but I knew when I was looking at a handsome face. I’d never seen a picture of Zedekiah Crush, but Nana had heard it said that he was a beautiful sight to behold. She’d insisted that only Lucifer, himself, could have carved such a magnificent man to mask the evil within. I wondered now, as I looked at the face of his great-great-grandson, how close the resemblance might be.