Paranormal After Dark

by Rebecca Hamilton

  "Yet you seem to be putting forth quite an effort," snapped Mrs. Laretil.

  Both teachers took in a deep breath and glanced toward the shelf Dekram was hiding behind.

  Mrs. Evol broke the silence. "I will not discuss this with you. Your meddlesome prattle could, in itself, change the outcome."

  Dekram swallowed a giggle and peeked between the books. Mouth slowly opening, Mrs. Laretil's red cheeks were like a beacon in a storm. But Dekram's homeroom teacher picked up several books from the counter in a manner that pushed Mrs. Laretil's lips back together. As Mrs. Evol turned to leave, she said, "I will see you at the meeting this evening, where I'm sure everyone's concerns will be addressed." As Mrs. Evol walked toward the doors, she nodded at Layol. "It does my heart good to see you working so hard, Layol. I hope it is on your mission."

  Layol nodded vigorously and gave the teacher two thumbs up.

  Mrs. Evol slid through the door.

  Layol locked eyes with Dekram and motioned her over.

  Dekram backhanded the sweat off her upper lip, shelved her last two books and reluctantly returned the cart to the front desk.

  Her cheeks pink, Mrs. Laretil forced a smile. "That's all for tonight, dear. Are you going to do some studying before you leave?" She pointedly looked in Layol's direction.

  Dekram tucked her chin, averted her eyes and answered, "Um, yes. Layol and I are working on…um…our project together."

  "I heard," the librarian coyly said. "It's your first visit to the human world. And a little bird told me you've found a boyfriend as well. Nesohc, is it? All very exciting, isn't it, dear? But we mustn't start nesting. The mission training should come first. There will be enough time for frivolous cohabitation later."

  "O'mifairygodmother! The mission does come first! Nes and I are just friends, Mrs. Laretil!"

  "Come now, don't be shy," the librarian hedged. "It's blatantly clear that you are both sweet on each other. And in an ordinary world..."

  Covering her pink face, Dekram lifted into the air, wings buzzing her around erratically, and then dragonfly bolted in Layol's direction.

  Mrs. Laretil remarked after her, "Bless your pubescent little heart, carnal attraction is nothing to be ashamed of."

  Dekram sat down hard in the chair next to Layol, hands still covering her ears. "Did you hear that conversation?"

  "What conversation?" Layol distractedly asked as she clicked a few keys on the computer, and then stood up, motioning for Dekram to take her chair. "I set it all up—should be really easy for you to put in the next one."

  Dekram slapped the table and then slid over. "Jiminy Christmas! You didn't hear the conversation at the checkout desk just now?"

  Layol pointed to the computer and whispered, "Type in 'Fun Mail'".

  "Batcrap! Did you not hear me?" Dekram shot a glance at Mrs. Laretil, then whispered, "She just asked me about…about Nes and me, and there is no Nes and me."

  "Not yet, but I'm working on that. Now type in Fun Mail."

  "You're not listening." Dekram's brows jumped at each other. "Mrs. Evol and Mrs. Laretil were talking about me." And why does Detaf's name keep popping up?

  "When?"

  Dekram puffed a noisy breath and began typing. "Never mind."

  "What did they say?"

  "Nothing," Dekram said, fingers pecking keys. "What next?"

  Layol leaned in and handed Dekram an index card. "Sign in under this name, and then click Buzz Forum in the drop-down box."

  "HSsnitch?" Dekram rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, that sounds professional. It's got 'A kid wrote this' all over it. And we all know whose father works for HS."

  "I thought it was perfect. Could be a kid, could be a Human Services rep.—should make your daddy proud."

  Dekram's nostrils flared as she followed Layol's instructions and then shoved the index card in the back pocket of her jeans, keeping an eye on Mrs. Laretil.

  Layol pointed at the screen. "Toggle down—that's the one. Click on it."

  Dekram clicked and began to read the post. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. "Tink save us! Can we edit this?"

  Mrs. Laretil smiled at her over the front desk computer where she was checking in books.

  Layol looked a tad put out. "We're trying to get their attention!"

  "Well, this should do it!"

  "I'm thinkin'!" Layol said, hands on hips, toe tapping vigorously under the table.

  Dekram hid behind her hands and let out a whimper. "It rhymes—so badly, I might add—and you might as well have used Soahc's name. Like, everyone is so totally going to get it!"

  Layol hooded her eyes, one hand swinging at the computer screen. "I thought that was the point."

  Mrs. Laretil's eager voice rang across the empty library, "You girls seem to be at an impasse." She smiled when their heads whipped in her direction. "Nothing a little lemon tea and saffron cookies won't fix." She scuttled off in the direction of the teachers' lounge. "Be back in five."

  The minute Mrs. Laretil cleared the library door, Dekram hit her forehead, glared at Layol, and spat, "I thought it was supposed to look all professional like it actually came from HS, idiot!"

  "So I changed up the plan, and what do you mean, bad rhyme?" Layol huffed. "I think it's brilliant!"

  Dekram let out a whine as Layol leaned in front of her and read the post in a sing-song voice.

  "Two Air fairies almost dead

  Three feet under a flower bed

  Was it a Fire fairy that did the deed?

  Or little-miss-perfect who slipped 'em speed

  Buzz away, we'll nip your wings

  Take away your human things

  Mock missions, a thing of the past

  'Cause drugs and human toys

  Are sure to purge your blessed joys"

  Layol shot Dekram an expectant look.

  Dekram spread her legs, flopped back in the chair and sighed loudly. "First off, it wasn't speed, it was Angel's Trumpet."

  "Sh-yeah, right, you try and rhyme Angel's Trumpet. All I could come up with was Little Miss Muffet and strumpet and although both probably fit—Aw, Puck me!—I got creative." Layol scrunched up her face sheepishly. "Too much?"

  "It sounds like Fire Rap." Dekram shook her head. "Can we edit this, or what?"

  "Well, Fire Rap's not too bad, is it?" Layol flopped down in the chair next to Dekram. "I don't know if we can fix it."

  "For the love of Gabriel, why didn't you find out before you posted it? We are in so much trouble. Soahc is gonna kick our impin' butts."

  "Nobody will know it was us," Layol tried.

  "Oh yeah," Dekram said, "not like we ever go to the buzzes, not like we haven't been up in Soahc's face, not like I didn't tell her she looks like an Easter egg, and you didn't spill cherry juice on her favorite dress—c'mon! We are sooo dead!"

  Layol looked crestfallen. "Guess we should see if we can edit this before it goes viral. How bad could it be? I just posted it about fifteen min—"

  "Here we go girls," Mrs. Laretil sang, pushing through the library door, a large tray balanced on one hand, filling the air with the smell of spiced lemon and saffron. "I thought we'd sit down, enjoy our snack and discuss the problem you seem to be having with your mission," she said as she set down a steaming pot of tea and laid out colorful fall napkins. "Nothing like a new pair of eyes to mediate what seems like an unsolvable situation."

  "Or not." Layol reached over Dekram and hammered the clicker arrow on the Internet Explorer tool bar and efficiently changed the page. Dekram slid deeper into the chair, hair tenting her face, wings tucked tight.

  Layol clicked on Favorites as Mrs. Laretil poured tea, and guided the arrow to a document labeled Mission Project. Up came the folder just in time for Mrs. Laretil to glance over, a cup of tea balanced in her hand. She took a sip and said, "Hmmm, tossing lit cigarettes out of the window of a moving automobile. My, that is certainly hazardous to our milieu."

  Dekram peeked through curls, brows arched with surprise. La
yol smirked.

  Mrs. Laretil asked, "So what were we disagreeing about?" and wiped the smirk right off Layol's face.

  Chapter 6

  "BET ALL THE kids have seen that post by now," Dekram told Layol as they headed toward the pond on the other side of the field behind the academy.

  "Ya think?" Layol said, wings beating an angry red blur.

  "Wonder if Nes saw it?"

  Layol grabbed Dekram's arm, jerked her to a halt. "Talk to me about this. Did they hurt you?"

  "Did you watch it?"

  "Yes, but what happened afterwards?"

  "Give it a rest. I told you what happened. When I came out of the stall there was a flock of fairies by the mirrors. One evidently took the video of me trying to clean the stain off my shirt and sent it to Soahc. She showed up—pixed me—and I slipped, about busted my butt. They got all impy about it and then left right before you got there. End of story."

  "So why didn't they film the fall?" Layol raised a suspicious eyebrow.

  "Who cares?—glad they didn't." Dekram revved her wings.

  Layol sighed, flapping her wings. Lifting into the air she doubled over and hugged her stomach. "Fricken' mythical Plague Dogs! These menacing cramps are killing me! I need a hot bath and some of mom's raspberry tea." Moaning, Layol straightened. "She puts in ginger, red peony root, and fennel. It really works. You ever try it?"

  Dekram's arm tensed under her friend's grasp. "Let's call Nes before we head home. I want his opinion on the buzz post."

  Layol's brow wrinkled. "Why is it every time I mention my monthly, you go all dwarfy-bashful on me?"

  Dekram gently pulled her arm away, eyes studying Layol's fuchsia-multi-leopard, chiffon, platform ankle wraps. "Very cool shoes, wish I had a pair. Heck, I wish my mother'd let me wear a pair."

  "Jiminy H Cricket! Will ya just back up a topic or two? Look, it's nothing to be embarrassed about."

  "I just thought we should call Nes," Dekram said, without making eye contact. "That's all."

  "No. It's not. You're avoiding a discussion about the 'M' word. I want to know why. Every woman bleeds. What's the big deal?"

  "I don't!" Dekram said, wings vibrating.

  "What? Like never?"

  "No! Now can we just move on? I think we should call Nesohc!"

  "Have you discussed this with your mother?"

  "It's no big deal."

  "Yes it is. You're old enough. I think you should've started."

  Dekram let out a frustrated breath. "Can we call Nes, or what?"

  Layol tilted her head, a thousand questions filling her face. "Sure, but this conversation is not over."

  Dekram pulled her cell out of her jeans, flipped it open and fingered the buttons until a picture of Nesohc's grinning face, hair all askew, came up on the screen. She hit the call button and put the cell on speaker.

  Nesohc's voice nipped the first ring. "Pan's harsh revenge! Who wrote that post?"

  Dekram cringed.

  "I did," Layol snapped, snatching the cell from Dekram. "Whaddaya think?"

  "I think we're all dead! That's what I think. Why in the name of all that is fetid did you make it so blunt? Everyone is going to know that post refers to Soahc, and with Bacs in the hospital, they're gonna think she had something to do with his overdose. Not to mention we're going to the buzz tonight—she's gonna know we posted it!"

  "Maybe we should cancel tonight's plans," Dekram said, eyes hopeful.

  "I thought making it blunt was the point!" Layol spat, arms waving frustration. "Weren't we supposed to make the kids wonder about Soahc? Let them know what Dekram's father said about us acting like humans? I did that, quite well I believe."

  Silence tempered the air.

  Finally, a noisy sigh floated from the phone. "Well, you sure flipped the lid wide open on Pandora's box, this time, Lay. But you're right. That was the point. Besides, Dek, it's too late to change the plan. I've already received seventeen texts with the attached link, and they're still coming in. I'm sure the whole academy's seen the faux HS post."

  Dekram searched her cell phone screen. "My message icon isn't lit."

  Layol dug in her book bag, pulled out an iPod with a pink Tinkerbell cover, thumbs working. "I got twenty-five texts," she sang, grinning hugely.

  Dekram pouted. She so didn't just go all Nanny-nanny-boo-boo on me.

  Layol's grin was sheepish. "Hey, the good news is we can pretend we're going to the buzz, just like everyone else," she said, thumbs texting, "to see how Soahc reacts."

  "Girl's a closet passive-aggressive!" Nesohc's laughter drifted from Dekram's cell. "We're imped if we do and imped if we don't. Way ta go, Lay."

  "Oh. My. Goddess. Kick me right into Neverland!" Layol hit send on her iPod for the fourth time. "Detaf just publicly turned down Etah's crush-me-if-you-can invite to the buzz tonight!"

  She said that with way too much enthusiasm, Dekram thought.

  Nesohc asked, "That the same kid who watched us outside of homeroom this morning?"

  "Yeah, he's crushing on Dek," Layol said in between key-clicking.

  "No-he-is-not!" Dekram was sure Nesohc was glaring at the phone the same way she was glaring at Layol.

  "Guess it's settled, we're going tonight," Layol said through a toothy smile as she pushed send. Tucking the cell into her bag, she asked, "So, what excuse are you guys giving for having to go out on a school night?"

  "Mission study group," both Nesohc and Dekram huffed.

  "Me too," Layol agreed. "Hey Nes, buddy, you never told us what your mission is, when you're going out, or who you got hooked up with."

  There was a long pause. "There's a boggart creating some major havoc with a family of seven…," an even longer pause, "…I'm in the third group."

  "Woo-hoo! We're all going to be in the human world on the same day!" Layol interrupted.

  A snort floated from the cell. "Third group, with Bacs,—that is, if he's up to it—Soahc, and the rest of her caustic bunch."

  "Great! Just great!" Dekram flipped the cell case closed and stormed off, laying a path of sprinkles.

  "Nope, the imp's definitely not crushing on Nesohc," Layol mumbled and followed the green sprinkles.

  * * *

  NOSTRILS FLARED, SHOULDERS fell as Dekram tossed her purse and book bag on a table in the hall before flying up to her bedroom.

  How did Soahc wiggle her way into getting Nes as a partner? Dekram flopped on her bed all snow-angel like. As sure as Pippi Longstocking's real name is Pippilotta Delicatessa Windowshade Mackrelmint Ephraim's Daughter Longstocking, I'm not letting Soahc one-up me tonight!

  Contemplating her wardrobe for the buzz, Dekram let out a long sigh. Appropriate makeup and study clothes sure as heck aren't party-down cool. So how do I leave the house looking all workshop groupie, and get to the buzz looking all party girl?

  Finger tapping against chin, she decided on hip-riding skinny jeans, and a white, button-down Old Navy shirt. When I get to Layol's I can roll up the sleeves, undo a couple of extra buttons and let my new black lace sports-bra peek out. And if I tie the shirt off, my bellybutton ring and silver crescent-moon belt-buckle will show.

  "Better than nothing, I suppose," she said, setting the shirt neatly by the black low-rider's and her black silver-tipped boots.

  A few minutes later she left the room, headed for dinner, and stopped abruptly at the top of the stairs when she heard her mother's voice below.

  "But Redael, I believe we should see if she has our shared gifts and nurture them before her first mission. What if not knowing threatens her life?"

  A short silence before her mother said, "I don't agree. If she has no knowledge of her skills, how can she rein them in?"

  Her mother's fingers drummed impatience.

  "And just when will you return?" Diuqil sounded frustrated.

  Dekram wished she could hear her father's voice.

  "Well, if you are not back by the end of the week, I feel the need to honor my maternal instincts in re
gards to the amount of knowledge our daughter is given."

  Her mother, a blur of writhing, mossy green dreadlocks, crossed the archway between the living room and the hall at the bottom of the stairs.

  "The Elders' beliefs? No one in Wandermere has been in our situation, Redael. And all of us were nurtured as younglings to recognize our powers, Elders included. Why are they trying to make this more difficult for her?"

  The flash of something brown and wet whizzed by the archway from her mother's direction, hit the wall with a splat and slid a messy trail to the floor. "All I am saying is, as parents, we are setting her up for failure if we do not teach her to use the gifts we have hopefully blooded to her."

  There was a long pause. Dekram leaned over the railing and spotted her mother pacing in front of the kitchen door.

  "I will certainly try to respect your wishes, mate, but I am not in agreement with sending our child into the human world without knowledge of the power she may very well let loose unexpectedly. Her safety is crucial to the purity of our…" Her mother's words faded as the door to the kitchen shut behind her.

  Dekram's thoughts flashed to the many overheard conversations of the last two days. Something is going on. I wonder how many of the other kids are involved. Wish I could make sense of all this because right now it sure seems like the adults in Wandermere are pointing fingers at only me.

  Dekram flew down the stairs and across the living room, her mind full of questions. She briefly leaned against the kitchen door, thoughts still spinning frantically, and heard the clatter of wood against a bowl.

  Entering the kitchen, she blurted, "Mom, all the girls bleed monthly. I don't. Do you think there's something wrong with me?" She froze. Where the heck did that, come from?

  Diuqil froze too; her fingers tightened around the wooden spoon hovering over a bowl of mixed greens. After what seemed like forever, her mother slowly laid down the spoon and turned to face her daughter with a forced smile. "Everyone is different, Dekram."