Thea at Sixteen

Home > Science > Thea at Sixteen > Page 12
Thea at Sixteen Page 12

by Susan Beth Pfeffer

“Tell you what,” Scotty said, joining them in the hallway. “I’ll walk with Thea and look with her while you and Sam look together. How’s that, Sybil?”

  Sybil grinned. “Fine,” she said. “Sam, come on!”

  “Coming!” Sam called, and soon the four of them were on the expedition together.

  “We’re going to Oak Hollow Road,” Sybil declared. “Lots of kids walk there, and I found a lot of wrappers there in October.”

  “Sounds promising,” Sam said.

  “This should work out really well,” Sybil said. “See, there’s Oak Hollow up ahead. Scotty, you and Thea walk to the left, and Sam and I’ll walk to the right.”

  “I bet we’ll find more wrappers than you do,” Thea said.

  “You will not,” Sybil said. She grabbed Sam’s arm and pulled him with her. “Come on, Sam,” she said. “Let’s find a thousand wrappers.”

  “Come on, Scotty,” Thea said. “Let’s find a thousand and one.” She heard herself laughing, and couldn’t believe that she was. An hour ago, she’d been sitting with Gina, watching her die, and now she was outside searching the sides of the road for garbage. She loved Gina, probably more than Dani did, and yet she was outside laughing. No wonder Kip had been surprised she’d shown up.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” Scotty said.

  “You don’t want them,” Thea replied.

  “That little girl,” Scotty said. “She’s dying, right?”

  Thea nodded.

  “A kid I went to school with died,” Scotty said. “I’d known him since, I don’t know, since fourth grade, I guess. That’s when we both started Mayfield Academy. And when you go to prep school like that, you really know the other kids, because you live together in the dorm. Not that this guy was a big friend of mine or anything, but he was someone I knew. Someone I ate with. Someone I heard crying when he was homesick. I guess he heard me cry, too, on occasion.”

  Thea liked the sound of Scotty’s voice, and was glad she didn’t have to look at him. She stared down at the side of the road and searched for wrappers while he spoke.

  “Anyway, about three years ago, they found out he had cancer,” Scotty said. “Brain tumor. Real fast. Real bad. He was dead six months later. But it was all during the school year. He had a seizure right before Halloween, and he was dead by Easter break. Of course, once he went into the hospital, he was out of school, but they made us visit him. He looked weird, his hair all shaved off, big bandage around his head. The next time we saw him, he looked worse, and the third time, you knew he was a goner.”

  “Did you go to the funeral?” Thea asked. There. Now she’d said the f word, too.

  “We had to,” Scotty replied. “None of us wanted to, but they bused us to the church. His mother cried. His parents were divorced, and his father couldn’t make it, but his mother cried, and she said what made it all worthwhile was seeing us all there. Like that proved the guy was popular. I mean, he was, but it wasn’t like we were all his friends. We had to go. I had to go. That’s the only funeral I’ve ever been to. You ever go to one?”

  “Not yet,” Thea said. If she looked hard enough for wrappers, she wouldn’t start crying.

  “Boring,” Scotty declared. “Lots of talk about heaven. When I die, I don’t want a funeral. Schyler says he wants a big one, with all his old girlfriends there, but not me. Just cremate me and scatter my ashes.”

  “Where?” Thea asked.

  “On Wall Street,” Scotty replied. “In the Stock Exchange.”

  Thea laughed. Scotty was silent for a moment, and then he laughed, too.

  “You have a wonderful laugh,” he said. “You should laugh more often.”

  “I laugh all the time,” Thea said. “Just not lately. You picked a bad weekend to hear me laugh.”

  “Can I have another chance some other weekend?” Scotty asked.

  “Do you mean can you come for another visit?” Thea asked. “Sure. Now that Nicky and Megs are in the inviting habit, I bet they’d be delighted to have you come back.”

  “Good,” Scotty said. “Because I want to keep seeing you.”

  “You do?” Thea said. “Why?”

  “Oh, come on now,” Scotty said. “You’ve got to know how pretty you are. Girls as pretty as you always know.”

  “Oh,” Thea said. She knew she used to look in the mirror and admire herself, but lately she’d had other things on her mind. “Am I as pretty as Dani?”

  “Dani,” Scotty grunted. “I knew you’d bring that up.”

  “It’s a natural enough question,” Thea said. “Oh, good. I found a Wattabar wrapper. It’s in mint condition, too.”

  “Dani means nothing to me,” Scotty declared.

  “I never doubted that,” Thea said. “Your courtship was pretty brief, if fervent.”

  “She practically raped me,” Scotty said. “I was standing in the kitchen, minding my own business, and she walked over to me and started kissing. Ordinarily I would have told her to stop, but I was a guest in your house, and I thought that might be rude. Maybe I was supposed to kiss her, so I did. My mother brought me up to do whatever my hosts did. And your parents kiss, and so do Evvie and Sam. I figured that was how you did things here, so I kissed Dani back. But I certainly wouldn’t have started if she hadn’t. There’s a Yummie Junior. Sybil’s collecting those, right?”

  “Right,” Thea said. “Oh, here’s an Mmm Mmms with Almonds. Yuck. It has ants on it.”

  “I’ll brush them off for you,” Scotty said, and he took the wrapper from Thea and delicately removed the ants. “I think I’m in love with you, Thea Sebastian,” he said, and, wrappers in hand, kissed her.

  “What?” Thea said when he’d finished.

  “You heard me,” Scotty said “I know you don’t love me yet, but you will, I promise.”

  Thea stared at Scotty and then checked to see if Sam and Sybil were within earshot. But they were already a few hundred feet away, and engrossed in their own conversation.

  “Scotty,” Thea said. “I don’t love you. You don’t love me, either. Hold on. I think I see a Sweet Somethings wrapper over there.”

  “In your family, everyone falls in love fast,” Scotty said. “I know all about it. It’s all Clark ever talks about. How your mother fell in love with your father, and then Evvie with Sam. And now you and me. I can see why you might not have known it at first, because you have had other things on your mind, but soon you’ll realize it and then we’ll be together.”

  “Excuse me,” Thea said. “But there’s an Mmm Mmm wrapper under that stone.”

  “Forget the wrapper,” Scotty said. “And listen to me. I could have played this the traditional way, dates, letters, yearning phone calls. But I couldn’t afford to take the chance. You obviously feel something for Kip, even if it is one-sided, and I know it’s hard for you, his sister dying and all, and I’m only here until Sunday. Besides, things are crowded in your house. All those sisters. And Sam. Schyler was right when he said Sam has a gift for getting in the way. So I’m telling you now, and years from now you’ll look back at this moment, and remember us on Oak Creek Road and wonder how you ever could have doubted.”

  “Oak Hollow Road,” Thea said. “What makes you say my feelings for Kip are one-sided?”

  “You’ll get over him,” Scotty said. “He isn’t worthy of you, anyway. I’m going to be a millionaire, Thea, by the time I’m twenty-five. And after that, I’m only going to get richer. I’ll buy you anything you want.”

  “You have the wrong sister,” Thea said. “Try that line on Claire.”

  “She’s not my type,” Scotty replied. “She reminds me too much of Schyler. I saw you Wednesday night, and I thought, there she is, the girl I’ve always dreamed of. Thea Sebastian. Thea Sebastian Hughes. That’s perfect. Sebastian’s my grandfather’s name, you know.”

  “No, I didn’t,” Thea said. “Scotty, you’re very sweet, but I’m not in the mood to be proposed to right now.”

  “Let me know when,” he said.
“I’ll give you roses.”

  “I’d rather have candy wrappers,” Thea said. “Oh, good. Here’s another Wattabar. You want to brush off its ants for me?”

  “The first test of my love,” Scotty said. He shook the wrapper free of the ants, and then, while handing it to Thea, kissed her again. Why not, Thea thought, and kissed him back. In her family, they did fall in love at first sight. Maybe if she’d bothered to look at Scotty two nights ago, she might have fallen in love, too.

  She was hardly aware of the car whizzing past them. It only penetrated her consciousness when she realized someone might have seen them kissing. Kip, Thea thought, although she knew he didn’t have a car, and was unlikely to be anywhere near Oak Hollow Road. But the thought of him made her aware of the car, and the car made her think of Sybil, and she looked over to the side of the road where Sybil was standing, and somehow, as though she knew what she was going to see, she watched the car race toward Sybil. And Thea began to scream, but the car was making too much noise, only Scotty could hear her, and he turned and saw, too, as the car hit Sybil and she flew into the air and the car kept going faster and faster and Sam was standing there, and Sybil was on the ground, and the wrappers, the damn candy wrappers started floating down, landing on the road, landing on Sybil lying on the road.

  “SYBIL!” Thea screamed again, and this time they all could hear her, but it was too late. She ran the yards to Sybil’s side, and Scotty followed her, dropping his wrappers. We’ll have to retrieve them, Thea thought. The wrappers. Sybil’s going to want the wrappers.

  “My God,” Scotty said as he reached Sam and looked down at Sybil. “Is she alive?”

  “I don’t know,” Sam said. “I … I haven’t checked yet.”

  “Checked?” Thea shouted. At least she meant to shout. She wasn’t sure she actually said anything, but her lips were moving, and she was thinking checked and candy wrappers and Sybil and alive.

  Scotty bent down. “She’s still breathing,” he said. “We’d better not move her, though.”

  “Here’s my jacket,” Sam said. He took it off, and draped it over Sybil. “Thea, we need to call an ambulance.”

  “The car hit her,” Thea said. “Did you see that?”

  “We saw it,” Scotty said. He took his jacket off as well, and put it on Sybil. Thea couldn’t get over how silly Sybil looked, lying on the road, covered by jackets and candy wrappers.

  “Wake up,” Thea said. “She hates waking up in the morning. Sybil, wake up.”

  “You take Thea,” Sam said. “Find a phone fast. I’ll stay here with Sybil.”

  “All right,” Scotty said. He put his left arm around Thea, but this time she knew he wasn’t going to kiss her, and then they walked down the road, turned on Old Mill Road, walked until they found a house, and then walked to the house, rang the bell, begged for entry, explained what had happened. Thea listened while Scotty talked.

  “Accident. Hit-and-run. Twelve-year-old.”

  “No,” Thea said. “Sybil. It was Sybil.” And she started crying, and didn’t stop, not even when they ushered her into the living room, and didn’t stop until she heard the ambulance wail its arrival, and watched as they carefully lifted Sybil off the road, and drove her away, to the hospital, to safety, to a place which made people well—or watched while they died.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  It was almost as though they’d moved the weekend party into the surgical waiting room, Thea thought. Everyone was there, except Sybil of course. Sam and Evvie were huddled on the floor, and Claire was sitting close enough to them that Evvie could occasionally reach out and stroke her hair. Nicky and Megs were sitting on a sofa, their faces devoid of expression; but their bodies and their thoughts seemed merged, as though by their unity, they could hold the world together. Clark paced, fidgeted, brought coffee and sandwiches, made phone calls, tried to be useful, and succeeded only in not being invisible. Scotty sat by Thea’s side. Thea didn’t know why. Maybe it was because they had witnessed the accident together. Maybe it was because he loved her. She was hardly conscious of him, and didn’t care what his motives were.

  There had been chaos in the emergency room, Nicky hysterical with grief, Megs close to paralysis from shock. Clark had been helpful then, and the doctors had known what to do, how to calm people down so forms could be filled out, information could be obtained. Nicky had stopped shaking long enough to sign consent forms for surgery. Within two hours of the accident, Sybil was on the operating table, and all Thea knew was that the longer they took, the longer Sybil continued to live.

  “Come on, girls,” Clark said, sometime after the third hour. “You must be hungry. You need a break. Let’s go to the cafeteria and get something to eat.”

  “No,” Thea said. She remembered Mrs. Dozier sitting in the cafeteria, and couldn’t bear the thought of facing her again. Not that Mrs. Dozier was likely to still be there. But Thea wasn’t taking any chances.

  “Claire, come with me,” Clark pleaded. “It isn’t healthy for you to be sitting so still. And you’re not doing Sybil any good by starving yourself.”

  “I’m not leaving,” Claire said.

  “We’re fine, Clark,” Evvie said. “Why don’t you go down and bring us back something. We just can’t leave right now.”

  “All right,” Clark said. “Scotty, come with me. I’ll need the extra set of hands.”

  So Scotty got up and joined Clark. Thea felt relieved when they were gone. They didn’t belong. They weren’t family.

  Sam turned to Thea. “I thought I heard you scream,” he said. “Did you?”

  Thea nodded. “I saw the car coming,” she replied. She could see it again and again, each time in her memory getting larger, and the arc of Sybil’s flight growing higher and more delicate. After five hours, it was almost poetry the way Sybil flew and descended, and the candy wrappers looked almost like flower petals.

  “I reached for her,” Sam said. “I remember that. I reached for her, tried to pull her out of the way, but it was too late.”

  “Sam, don’t,” Evvie said. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “There should have been something I could do.”

  “There was nothing,” Thea said. “Cars speed on Oak Hollow Road. That’s one reason why people drive there, so they can speed.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Meg said. “About the speeding.”

  Thea nodded. “The car was going very fast,” she said.

  “No, I mean that cars always speeded there,” Meg said. “If I’d known that, I never would have let Sybil go there.”

  “There was no way you could know that,” Nick declared. “Daisy, don’t blame yourself. Some hit-and-run driver hurt Sybil, not you.”

  “Not you,” Evvie echoed, holding onto Sam.

  “She’s so young,” Meg said. “Only twelve.”

  “She’s strong,” Nick said. “And she’s not a quitter. When Sybil sets her mind to something, she always accomplishes it.”

  Megs began to cry. “She’s my baby,” she said, and Nicky held on to her, while she wept.

  “She’ll be all right, Megs,” Claire said. “I know it. Sybil isn’t going to die.”

  “She can’t die,” Nick said. “She can’t.”

  Angels like Sybil, Thea thought. Gina had asked after her. Had Gina known what was going to happen? Did the dying know who the dying were going to be?

  Clark and Scotty came back with boxes filled with coffee and soup, sandwiches and fruit. Thea stared at the sandwich Scotty gave her. Evvie nibbled on hers. Megs continued to cry.

  “Nick, maybe we should get Meg out of here,” Clark suggested. “Find a room for her to lie down in.”

  “No,” Nick said, and he held on to Megs even more tightly.

  “They were selling Yummie Juniors in the cafeteria,” Scotty declared. “They had a vending machine with them. I almost bought one.”

  “They’re awful,” Claire said. “They stick in your teeth for hours.”


  “I know,” Scotty said. “That’s why I didn’t get any.”

  Thea thought about how much Sybil hated hospitals. It didn’t seem fair that she should be in one.

  A police officer came by, and asked Scotty, Thea, and Sam for statements again. They’d already told what they knew back in the emergency room, but the officer wanted to hear it again. Color and description of car. Had they seen the driver at all? What about the license plate? They told him what they remembered, which wasn’t much, and went back to sitting on the floor, playing with the food, talking about Yummie Juniors.

  “There’s turkey at home,” Meg said. “We had so much extra because the Doziers didn’t stay.”

  “They wanted to,” Thea said. “They apologized for leaving.”

  “I know,” Meg said. “How is Gina?”

  Thea shrugged. Dying wasn’t a word she cared to say out loud.

  “Maybe I’ll have a turkey sandwich when I get home,” Evvie said. “Sam, would you like a sandwich?”

  “That’ll be good,” Sam replied. “We can make sandwiches for everybody.”

  “I can help,” Scotty said.

  “Fine,” Sam said. “The three of us will make sandwiches later.”

  Time passed in silence. At one point Evvie asked Sam what he had done with her psychology textbook. At another, Claire asked Scotty how many boys there were in his school. Megs and Nicky turned back into themselves. Clark continued to fuss. Thea sat there and pictured the car, the flight, the showering of wrappers. She no longer was sure what color the car had been, although she’d known at the time it was blue.

  After five hours, the surgeon came out. He walked over to Nicky and Megs, but all the others could hear him. “She’s still with us,” he said. “The internal injuries were extensive, and there was a lot of blood lost. We had to remove her spleen, but she can live with that. And there’s no sign of permanent neurological disfunction.”

  Nicky nodded.

  “The next twenty-four hours are critical,” the doctor said. “The risk of infection is great, and the bleeding could start again.”

  “Then what?” Nick asked. “When she makes it through.”

 

‹ Prev