“I want you to know,” Abigail said, “that even though I dislike Marley, I don’t wish her ill. I genuinely hope she’s okay.”
“You’re jealous of Marley, aren’t you?” Payton asked. She realized, with some embarrassment, that she hadn’t spent much time thinking about Abigail’s feelings.
“Oh, do you think?” Abigail sounded irritated. “I was your best friend, and you ditched me to be best friends with her. How could I not be jealous?”
Payton couldn’t meet Abigail’s eyes. “I didn’t really ditch you. We just … grew apart.”
“Well then, we grew apart very suddenly so you could be Marley’s best friend instead. You really hurt my feelings, Payton.”
Payton felt a sharp pain in her heart, like a bee had stung her there. “I’m sorry.”
There was a long pause, and Abigail seemed to let out a breath she’d been holding this whole time. “It’s okay. I forgive you.”
“Thank you.” Payton was glad she could be forgiven of this, at least.
“And I hope Marley’s okay and I understand that she’s your best friend now, but you know, sometimes maybe you and I could, you know, hang out.”
“We’re hanging out now,” Payton said, letting herself smile a little.
Abigail smiled back. “Yeah, but this is our first time hanging out since you ditched me, so it’s super awkward.”
All the things Payton liked about Abigail came flooding back to her in a rush: her sense of humor, her intelligence, her honesty. She laughed. “It is! It’s sooo awkward!”
Payton saw her mom walking down the sidewalk, a panicked look on her face. “Mom!” Payton called. “Hey, Mom! I’m over here!”
Payton’s mom put her hand to her chest and let out a sigh of relief. “There you are. Good. I thought you’d just be gone for twenty minutes or so, but it’s been almost an hour. I was worried about you because, well, you know …”
She didn’t have to finish. “I’m sorry, Mom,” Payton said. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“It’s okay,” her mom said, then looked at Abigail. “Hi, Abigail. It’s nice to see you.”
“It’s nice to see you, too, Mrs. Thompson.”
“You should come on home, though, Payton,” her mom said. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
Payton stood up. “Okay.” She turned to Abigail. “Let’s hang out soon.”
“Definitely,” Abigail said. “And let me know if you hear anything about Marley.”
Payton felt a stab of guilt that was becoming very familiar. “I will.”
* * *
Payton sat down at the dinner table with her mom and dad like she did every night. Tonight they were having roasted chicken and rice and broccoli, all of which she liked well enough. But when she put a chunk of chicken in her mouth and tried to chew it, it tasted like dust. She knew there was no way she could swallow it, so she spat it into her napkin and hoped nobody noticed.
“I know it’s been a tough day, honey, but you should eat to keep your strength up,” her mom said.
So much for nobody noticing.
“I can’t,” Payton said, pushing away her plate. “I mean, how can life go on as normal when something so bad has happened? How can people just go on eating dinner and doing homework and brushing their teeth and going to bed like everything’s fine?”
“It’s a good question,” her dad said, looking thoughtful. “I guess people go on doing normal things because it’s the only thing they can do—just go on living and hope things get better, which they generally will, over time.”
Payton burst into tears. Things would never get better for Marley. And it would be a long, long time until things got better for Marley’s parents and brother. “But what if they don’t?” she said, sobbing. “What if they never do?”
Payton’s mom and dad looked at each other the way they did when she asked a question they couldn’t answer.
Payton didn’t give them time to come up with anything. She knew they had no answers. No one did. She stood up. “May I be excused, please?”
“Sure, honey,” her mom said. “But later you’re going to eat something before you go to bed. Mom’s orders.”
Payton climbed the stairs to her room, flopped down on her bed, and cried some more. Apparently, she carried an endless well of tears inside her. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t run out of them by now. Today had been the hardest day of her life.
The only tiny bright spot was her talk with Abigail. She was glad the ice between them was thawing. She had forgotten how easy Abigail was to talk to, how natural things felt between them. It was a different dynamic from Payton’s friendship with Marley. Payton was always trying to impress Marley, to win her approval, so she was always a little on edge around her. She knew Abigail accepted her as she was, so when she was with Abigail, she could just be herself.
Still, Payton wished more than anything that she could see Marley again, that she could hear Marley laugh and call her a dork because of some stupid joke she had made.
After a long cry, Payton took out her homework and tried to get started on it, but it was useless. What was the point of doing homework when people you loved could just disappear in the blink of an eye? Making an effort of any kind seemed pointless.
There was a light knock on the door. “Can I come in?” her mom asked.
“I guess so,” Payton mumbled into her pillow.
Her mom was carrying a tray from which sweet and spicy smells emanated. “Hey, I made you some hot chocolate and cinnamon toast. I figured you might be able to eat it when you couldn’t eat anything else.”
Cinnamon toast and hot chocolate had always been Payton’s go-to comfort foods when she was sick or sad. Her mom had been making it for her since she was a toddler. Payton sat up in bed. “Thanks.”
Her mother’s kindness made her cry a little more. Especially when she thought about how she was lying to her mom about Marley.
“You’re welcome.” Her mom handed Payton a saucer holding the slice of cinnamon toast and set the mug of hot chocolate on the bedside table.
“I think I’d like to be left alone now if that’s okay,” Payton said. Looking at her mom’s face made her feel too guilty.
“Not until I’ve seen you eat at least half that cinnamon toast,” her mom said, sitting down on the foot of the bed.
“Okay.” Payton nibbled the cinnamon toast and took a sip of hot chocolate. It was strange how these things could still taste good even when life was so bad.
“I’ve never had anything happen to me like what happened to you today,” her mom said. “It’s hard when you’re the parent and you can’t think of anything to say to make your kid feel better.” Her mom looked like she was in danger of crying herself. “I guess all I can say is that your dad and I are here when you need us.”
Payton nodded, too full of emotion to speak.
“Now, were you able to do your homework?” her mom asked.
Payton shook her head.
“How about I write your teachers a note? They’ll know what happened, and they know Marley is your best friend. I bet they’ll let you turn it in on Monday. And who knows? By then, Marley may be back at home safe and sound.” She patted Payton’s leg and got up from the bed.
“Thanks, Mom,” Payton said, even as she knew Marley was neither safe nor sound.
* * *
Payton brushed her teeth, climbed into bed, and curled up in a little ball. She was sure she wouldn’t be able to sleep, but the exhaustion of the day had been too much for her, and she lost consciousness as though she’d experienced a physical trauma, not just an emotional one.
She was surrounded by the whirring and churning of machinery. She looked around and saw she was in Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Kit factory. She was alone. She had gotten separated from her group, and she needed to find them. She entered a dimly lit room where vats of tomato sauce gurgled as they bubbled and boiled. She looked around frantically for any sign of her classmates or teacher. There wa
s no one.
On the floor in front of the vats was a big black pot like a witch’s cauldron. It was hanging over an open fire that had been built with some logs. An open fire inside a building? Payton thought. How is that even safe?
A familiar figure from Payton’s early childhood walked out and took his place behind the cauldron. It was big, furry Freddy Fazbear with his tiny top hat and familiar grin. Freddy was carrying a big burlap bag, the kind that Christmas cards always showed Santa carrying. Humming to himself, Freddy reached into his bag and pulled out a long-handled wooden spoon. He dipped the spoon into the cauldron of sauce and then stirred. He dipped up a spoonful of sauce, sniffed it, then tasted it thoughtfully.
Freddy reached back into his bag and pulled out a human arm, pale and thin. He dropped it into the pot of sauce and stirred. He dipped into the bag and pulled out a foot next—a girl’s foot, small with the toenails painted baby pink. He dropped it, too, into the bubbling cauldron.
Horror was building in Payton. Horror but also comprehension.
She was terrified of what he was going to pull out next, but she couldn’t look away.
Freddy reached into the bag one more time and retrieved a severed head that he held by its luxurious blond hair. At first Payton couldn’t see the face, but as Freddy turned the head around, she saw it was Marley, her eyes wide and unseeing, her mouth open in a silent scream. Freddy let go of the hair, and the head landed in the cauldron of sauce with a splash.
Payton woke up, gasping for breath. There would be no more sleeping tonight.
* * *
“I heard she ran away,” one girl said to another standing in front of the lockers.
“I heard she ran off with Sean Anderson,” the other girl said. “But that can’t be right because Sean’s at school today.”
“I heard she ran off to New York City to be a model,” a girl who had been listening in on the conversation weighed in.
The gossip buzzed in Payton’s ears. Her head felt like a hive of angry bees. She sat in her math class, but she couldn’t concentrate.
A voice came on over the intercom. “Payton Thompson, please report to the front office.”
Payton felt a knot of fear form in her stomach. Whatever this was, it couldn’t be good. Like a prisoner awaiting her sentence, she rose from her desk and walked to the office, consumed with dread.
When she reached the office, she wasn’t comforted by the sight of a police officer standing by the front desk with her mom right beside him.
Payton’s mind buzzed with panicked questions: Did the police know she was lying? Had they told her mom? Could a person get arrested for lying?
“Hey,” her mom said. Payton could tell she was trying to sound casual, but the tone of her voice was strained, and her brow was wrinkled like it got when she was worried or upset. “Officer Jacobs wants to ask you a few questions since you seem to be the last person who saw Marley.”
Payton shifted from foot to foot. She couldn’t meet her mom’s eyes, let alone the police officer’s. “I don’t know if I was the last person who saw her.”
“Well, the other kids all seem to have lost track of her in the factory sooner than you did,” her mom said, her voice getting shakier with each word. “And apparently nobody working in the factory says they saw a girl who got separated from the field trip group.”
“I won’t take up much of your time, and then you can get back to class,” Officer Jacobs said. He was a large, bald man with a gentle face. Under other circumstances, Payton wouldn’t have been scared of him. Officer Jacobs looked over at the secretary behind the front desk. “Ma’am, is there someplace private we could sit down and talk?”
The secretary stood up. “Of course. Let me show you to the conference room.”
Payton sat in the small room beside her mom and across from Officer Jacobs. She felt like she was on one of those crime dramas her mom watched all the time. She wondered if her mom found this kind of drama less entertaining when it was in real life.
“So you rode the bus with Marley on the field trip?” the officer asked, his pen poised above a notepad.
“Yes, sir,” Payton said. She felt sweaty and wondered if it was noticeable. “We rode together on the way to the factory.”
Officer Jacobs nodded. “And then you were together for the tour?”
“For part of it, yes. But it was like we were together and then we weren’t.”
It’s not a lie, Payton told herself.
Officer Jacobs wrote something down. “And where were you in the process of touring the factory when you noticed Marley was missing?”
Payton started to sweat more profusely. What had she told her parents when they had asked her this question? The containers of pizza toppings. She was pretty sure she had told them they’d been near the containers of pizza toppings.
Previous to this experience, Payton had not been in the habit of telling lies. She was discovering how hard it was. Once you came up with a story, you had to stick with it regardless of whom you were talking to. It wasn’t easy to remember the details and use them consistently. “Um … we were near the containers of pizza toppings, I think,” Payton said.
“That was when you noticed she wasn’t there?” the officer said.
“Yes, sir. I turned around, and she was gone.”
The officer jotted something else down on his notepad. Payton wished she could see what he was writing. She feared it was the word LIAR.
The officer looked up from his notepad. “Had she said anything to you about leaving or maybe about having plans to meet someone later?”
“No, sir.” Payton reconsidered. “Well, she didn’t say anything about meeting anybody or anything like that, but she did say the tour was lame and a waste of time. So I figured maybe she just left.”
The officer raised an eyebrow. “Without saying goodbye to her best friend?”
“Well, that’s not what Marley’s like. She does what she wants when she wants. If she got bored and decided she was going to go, she would’ve just gone. She’s done it before.”
The officer jotted something else down. “Well, thank you for your time. We’ll be in touch if we need to ask you anything else. We’re working very hard to find your friend.”
“Okay, that’s good,” Payton said, but she knew it didn’t sound like the right thing to say. It was hard to sound hopeful about their efforts when she knew good and well that there was no chance that they were going to find Marley alive. “Can I go back to class now?”
The officer nodded. As they left the conference room, Payton’s mom put her arm around her shoulders. “I know that was hard. I’m proud of you. Are you going to be okay for the rest of the day?”
Payton nodded, but tears sprang to her eyes. She knew her mom wouldn’t be proud of her if she knew the truth.
“It’ll be okay,” her mom said, giving her a little squeeze. “I just have a feeling you’re going to be seeing your friend again real soon.”
* * *
In home ec class, Mrs. Crutchfield stood next to a table stacked high with pizza boxes. “As you can see, our Freddy Fazbear Pizza Kits have been delivered,” she said, looking around at the class. “Each pizza box has a student’s name on it. When I call your name, come get your pizza kit. In order to save time, I took the liberty of preheating all the ovens to four hundred and twenty-five degrees. Bake your pizza for twelve to fourteen minutes according to the directions on the box, and then … bon appétit!” She picked up a pizza box and said, “Emma?”
Emma came to claim her pizza kit, and Mrs. Crutchfield continued calling the students’ names. One by one, the girls shuffled to the front of the room to get their pizza creations.
When a girl named Hannah came up to get hers, she asked, “Mrs. Crutchfield, is there a pizza kit with Marley’s name on it?”
“No, dear, I’m afraid not,” Mrs. Crutchfield said, not meeting Hannah’s eyes. “Sadly, Marley disappeared before she could choose the ingredients for her pizza
kit. But the police are looking for her, and I’m sure they’ll find her safe and sound.” Despite the reassuring words, Mrs. Crutchfield’s tone did not sound confident. She picked up another pizza box. “Payton?” she called.
Payton got up from her seat next to the one Marley used to occupy. She walked to the front of the room and claimed her pizza kit. The box was white with red letters spelling out FREDDY FAZBEAR’S PIZZA KIT with a picture of Freddy smiling the same way he had in Payton’s dream the night before. The box was soggy on the bottom, and when she pulled her hand away, it was red with what she hoped with all her heart was tomato sauce.
Of course it’s tomato sauce, she told herself. What else would it be?
Tomato sauce. She thought of the big, steaming vats of tomato sauce where Marley had in all likelihood met her doom. Which would happen first if you fell into a vat like that: Would you drown or be boiled alive, or would you be beaten to death by the giant, always-turning paddles that stirred the sauce?
She lifted her fingers to her nose and sniffed them to make sure the red liquid had tomato sauce’s familiar tang.
The smell of blood also had a tang.
Stop it, Payton told herself. You’re freaking out. If people see you freak out, they’ll get suspicious. They’ll know.
“Payton, are you all right?”
Mrs. Crutchfield’s voice penetrated Payton’s racing mind. “What? Oh yes, Mrs. Crutchfield.”
“Then please take your seat until the other girls have picked up their pizza kits.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Payton quickly sat down. She had no idea how long she’d been standing at the front of the classroom, lost in her panicky thoughts.
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