Devil in Ohio

by Daria Polatin

  “Morning, James,” she offered casually as she passed.

  Rounding the corner, she turned into her office. She nearly dropped her beverage as she entered the doorway.

  There was a man sitting at her desk: the sheriff from the cult.

  He was wearing the same long brown coat, and he held his cowboy hat in his hand. His heavy boots were hoisted onto Suzanne’s desk. A piece of caked mud had fallen next to Suzanne’s keyboard. His mere presence was invasive.

  “How did you get in here?”

  “Came in the back with a delivery. Friend o’ mine supplies the milk around here.”

  Suzanne took a deep breath and arranged her face. “What do you want?” she demanded.

  The man’s dark eyes stared at Suzanne.

  “Same as you,” he returned. “What’s best for the girl.” He swung his feet down from the desk, wiping the piece of mud from the faux-wood surface onto the industrial carpet.

  “What girl,” Suzanne challenged him. She was a bad liar and knew it, but she wasn’t supposed to give away information about Mae, even though she knew that was exactly who he was talking about.

  “Mae Louise Dodd,” he said. “Sixteen. Born on January the sixth. Black hair, green eyes, little brown birthmark on her left cheek. Scratch or two on her back.”

  Suzanne still didn’t take the bait. She didn’t say anything.

  “Her parents,” he continued. “They’re mighty worried about her.”

  “So am I,” Suzanne returned, still standing. She didn’t want to let her guard down by sitting.

  “That why she’s not in the hospital anymore?” he pressed.

  Suzanne couldn’t risk her face giving anything away, so she covered it with movement, taking a sip of her tea.

  “Where’d she go? ’Cause I know she ain’t here.”

  Suzanne stood her ground, unwilling to confirm or deny anything. She had no idea how he’d found out Mae had left, but was determined not to give him any more information.

  “I am not authorized to release information about a patient’s whereabouts.”

  The man ran his hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “Her family’s worried. Whole town is. All we want is to have our girl home.”

  “After what you did to her?” Suzanne blurted before thinking better of it.

  “Families have their own—ways of doing things,” he explained. “Outsiders don’t always understand.”

  “I understand abuse,” she told him plainly. “That girl belongs as far away from you people as humanly possible.”

  “Where she belongs is with her family. Her community.”

  “A community that carved a pentagram onto her back?” Suzanne’s anger was rising. “A community that left her on the side of the road to die?”

  The man didn’t reply. He stood up.

  “I’ll start checking the foster homes. We’ll find her eventually.” His tall frame towered over Suzanne. “Don’t say I didn’t ask nicely,” he warned as he tipped his hat and exited the office.

  CHAPTER 20

  SLAP!

  High five from Noah in my math class. We’d never spoken more than a few words to each other (“What did you get for the area of the quadrilateral?”), but apparently he’d read my “People You Don’t Know” column, which everyone in school was talking about.

  I’d gotten compliments about it all day, which made me understand the phrase walking on air. People I didn’t even know knew me were telling me how much they liked my interview and how cool the photo was. Score one for Jules. Finally.

  And all because of Mae.

  I’d ended up using a photo where her face was entirely lit by moonlight, her green eyes shining bright. She looked intriguing, like she was giving you who she was by staring directly at the camera, but something about the way she was looking told you that there was still something hidden—that she’d never fully let you know everything about her.

  The photo and article had run in print and were all over social media. I’d gotten tons of “likes” for them—even from Rachel Robideaux, which made me feel amazing.

  As Mae and I walked down the row of lockers, everyone was watching us. Except now instead of being leery of the Creepy New Kid and Quiet Awkward Girl, they looked at us like celebrities. My picture had made that happen.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” a nervous freshman mumbled to Mae. “You’re really inspiring,” she managed to get out before hurrying off down the corridor.

  In the column Mae had—without giving away any gruesome details—talked about having felt lonely in her old life, and how she was learning to be brave and adventurous. It was basically what we’d discussed in the cemetery together.

  Mae smiled at the compliment, hooking her thumbs under the purple straps of the new Jansport my mom had bought her.

  Mom had been pretty cool about us getting home late on Saturday. It had been after midnight when we came in, and she’d been up in her room. She found us in the kitchen making popcorn, so we just pretended we’d gotten home before my twelve o’clock curfew and she went with it. Neither Mae nor I brought up the chanting seizure thing—to my mom or each other.

  “Ugh. Ms. Ramsey’s interpretation of Austen is exhausting, don’t you think?” Isaac asked, catching up to us.

  “I don’t think she appreciated your theory that Elizabeth Bennett should move away and start her life over somewhere else,” I agreed.

  “Yeah, like, I get the societal constraints of the time, I just think people need to do something to change things. Amiright, Mae?”

  Mae mustered a smile. She didn’t really get Isaac’s rants, but she was polite about them.

  Isaac had been annoyed when he found out that Mae and I had gone to the party without him. “Would you have even wanted to go?” I’d asked him. “No, but that’s not the point.” His argument was that I should have told him about it, and he was right. I ceded the point, which he seemed satisfied with, so we dropped it.

  “You guys wanna sit outside for lunch?” he asked, pushing a strand of hair out of his face.

  “We’re actually going to stop by the Regal,” I told him.

  He nodded. “A-plus on the article, Jules. I’m glad you’re putting yourself out there. Now the world can see how talented you are. Or at least the school can.”

  “Thanks, Isaac.” I smiled back as we reached the stairwell. Even with all the attention from other people at school, it still was nice to have Isaac’s approval. He was my oldest friend, after all.

  “Bye, females,” Isaac said, waving as he headed off.

  As Mae and I descended to the first floor, Jessie and Christine met us at the bottom of the stairs. We stood in the stairwell.

  “Loved the article,” Jessie complimented me.

  Christine reapplied her gloss. “And you looked gorge in that picture, Mae.”

  Mae smiled. “It was all Jules. She’s awesome.”

  I was sure my face was beaming. I appreciated that Mae had shared her newfound celebrity with me, and was giving me credit.

  “You should take pictures for Teen Vogue,” Jessie decided regarding my career.

  “Um, don’t make me cry, my mascara’s gonna run,” I ventured as a joke, which I was relieved to find they laughed at.

  Other students stepped around us as we talked, not wanting to disturb our group. Usually I was the one who moved out of the way for people, and I had to admit, it was pretty fun to get a taste of being popular.

  “Hang out this weekend?” Christine asked. “Jessie wants to buy a new vibrator.”

  Jessie thumped Christine in the arm. “Do not.”

  Christine didn’t flinch; her arms were pretty buff. “Whatever, you can just borrow Larissa’s again,” she grinned.

  Jessie fake-gagged. “Ew, that is so gross.”

  I tried not to squirm at the vibrator conversation. I obviously knew about them, but had never actually seen one in person. Or used one. I knew what they did—theoretically, at least—but the ease wi
th which these girls discussed something that seemed like it was private was making me blush. And Mae probably had zero idea what they were talking about.

  “Jessie doesn’t need a new one,” Mae piped up. “She already has two.”

  They all burst out laughing. I was surprised Mae had made that joke. She barely knew what the internet was; I didn’t think she’d know about vibrators.

  Feeling my cheeks flush, plus the nagging fact that we were blocking the flow of traffic on the stairs, made me turn to Mae.

  “We should get to the Regal before lunch is over,” I reminded her.

  “See you guys later!” Mae called as we went our separate ways from Jessie and Christine. “They’re nice,” she continued as we made our way to the Regal office.

  “There they are!” Sebastian welcomed us as we walked in. “Come ’ere,” he said.

  Before I knew what was happening, he pulled me into a hug.

  I felt my face against his flannel shirt, warmed by his body heat. I caught a faint whiff of his smell. Cologne? Pheromones? Whatever it was, it was amazing.

  I wanted to stay there forever.

  His arms softened, so I quickly released mine as well. Sebastian then turned to Mae. He didn’t hug her, but put a gentle hand on her arm.

  “Thank you for your honesty,” he said to her. “How are you feeling?”

  Mae brushed off the incident at the mausoleum like it had never happened. “Oh, I’m fine,” she answered quickly. “Low blood sugar,” she said to excuse what had occurred.

  I stared at her. That was the exact excuse I’d used that morning when I forgot my backpack in the house as we were leaving for school. She sure did pick things up quickly.

  Or was she copying me?

  “I’m just glad you’re okay,” Sebastian returned. Mae smiled at him. Was she blushing?

  “Really nice work,” Naomi complimented us as she strode over. She wore a chambray zip-up jumpsuit I would have babysat Danielle a month for.

  “Thank you so much, Naomi, I appreciate it,” I returned. Maybe a little over the top, but it didn’t seem like compliments from Naomi were easy to come by.

  “Who’s next?” Naomi probed.

  I turned to Sebastian, who was still looking at Mae.

  “What’s my next assignment, boss?” I asked, trying to get his attention back to me.

  After a moment, he turned. “Up to you, Mathis! You’re a pro now. Anyone you thought about doing a profile on next?”

  Buoyed by the attention for the article, I had drafted a list of potential new people to interview in Geometry.

  “I was thinking Thalia Biggs would be interesting. She’s the youngest captain the women’s basketball team’s ever had and spends her summers volunteering building schools in different countries—last year she was in Belize. And,” I added, “it would be cool to get an action shot portrait.”

  Thalia was in my gym class, and I’d always been impressed by her athletic prowess. Plus she was a super go-getter, so selfishly I wanted to know more about her.

  “I like that,” Naomi said, nodding, then headed back to oversee a GIF that Greta was creating to hype up the paper on social media.

  “Excellent idea!” Sebastian approved. “Let’s get a list of questions going. And now that you’re an official member of the hallowed Remingham Regal staff, you have your very own cubby!”

  “Cubby?”

  “I know, what is this, second grade? It’s more of an in-box, really. Couple welcome papers in there.” He motioned over to a stack of shelves. “Names are on the bottom.”

  I walked over and found my name printed on a sticky label. I knew it wasn’t a big deal to have a cubby, but it felt cool to have a place made for me.

  Like I belonged somewhere.

  One of the papers in the box was for a staff-wide movie night next Wednesday. All the President’s Men—a great movie about reporters during Watergate.

  “Movie night sounds awesome,” I said, turning back to Sebastian.

  I froze. He was standing close to Mae. They were talking quietly together, and she was giggling at whatever he’d just said.

  I made my way back over and held up the movie night flyer. “This looks super cool.”

  They turned to me. I suddenly felt like I was interrupting something.

  Trying to fill the empty space, I hurried on. “We totally have to screen It Happened One Night. Everyone thinks of Citizen Kane when it comes to classic journalism films, but this is way better. Although All the President’s Men is definitely a good choice,” I rambled, my brain desperately trying to convince me I was being paranoid that something was going on between them.

  “Cool,” Sebastian said finally. “Haven’t seen it.”

  The three of us stood there awkwardly, waiting for someone to speak.

  “We should get going,” I said to Mae. “Mom’s picking us up soon.”

  The truth was, I didn’t really care if I made Mom wait for us a few minutes. But I certainly didn’t like seeing Mae and Sebastian talking to each other, so close they were practically touching.

  “Of course,” Mae returned, sounding slightly disappointed as I basically pulled her out the door.

  From behind me I heard Mae say, “Let me know if you ever need any help.”

  “Will do!” Sebastian called. “Bye, guys!”

  I turned and looked over my shoulder. Was I imagining it, or when I glanced back was Sebastian blushing?

  CHAPTER 21

  SITTING ON A BEANBAG CHAIR IN DANI’S ROOM later that night, I plowed through my homework. Thankfully Dani was out. I couldn’t shake what had happened earlier with Sebastian. Was Mae flirting with him? Was he flirting with her? Or was I just being a crazy person and imagining things, like the psychologically fragile heroine in The Haunting?

  I had been avoiding Mae since school, burying myself with work. I had zipped through the first act of A Doll’s House (drama!), finished my Spanish vocab review (¡La Playa!), and did my best at solving a geometry set (B-plus at best). I had e-mailed Thalia Biggs to see if she’d be interested in me doing a profile on her for “People You Don’t Know” (she said yes), and I’d messaged Isaac to see how his debate had gone (well, despite gloating from Victoria Liu).

  I had one more action item I could do. I drafted a list of potential questions for Thalia to send to Sebastian. I was going to send it tomorrow, but in light of his interaction with Mae this afternoon, I thought I should make a move and e-mail him tonight.

  Looking down, I read over my e-mail one more time, made sure it was perfect, then hit send.

  Almost immediately, BLING! A new message popped into my in-box. It was Sebastian, saying he’d get back to me with notes on the questions ASAP. “Have a good night,” he’d added. “And congrats again on the column, Jules. Killer work.” Smiley face.

  While I wasn’t a huge fan of emojis, I appreciated the gesture. And boys didn’t usually send emojis to girls unless they liked them, right? Did Sebastian like me, or was he just being friendly? And why would Mae make anything different? Mae was new at school—she was trying to make friends. And Sebastian was ridiculously friendly—he was merely being nice to the new girl. After all, he had been new to town last year, so he could relate.

  A wave of shame crashed over me. Clearly, I had been completely exaggerating, majorly overreacting to what had gone on. They had just been two people talking to each other. Plus, Mae knew I liked Sebastian, and she wouldn’t do that to me. I was being ridiculous. I had been totally imagining things between him and Mae.

  I had to make it up to her, maybe even apologize for being a little cold to her after school, which now felt super immature.

  I pushed myself up from the crunchy beanbag chair and paced down the hall to Mae’s room. I knocked on the door, but, too anxious to wait for an answer, I opened it.

  “Hey, Mae, I’m sorry I—”

  And then I saw it.

  Mae was standing in front of the full-length mirror holding a towel ove
r the front of her body. But her back was uncovered, her bandages removed to reveal:

  A pentagram carved into her back.

  My stomach churned as I took in the sight of the upside-down star that had been etched into her pale skin in red scar lines. It was grotesque, like an image from a horror movie. And it was here in my house, in my room, on my friend.

  The sign of Satan.

  I felt sick.

  Mae turned to me, almost daring me to say something. I knew my face must be in Majorly Freaked Out mode. I tried to contort it into something less reactive.

  Before I had the chance to say anything, Mae drew the towel around herself and covered her back. Her hair was dripping wet from the shower, the droplets morphing into dark dots on the carpet.

  “I…” I started, but I didn’t know how to complete the sentence. What did you say to a girl with a satanic carving on her back? I’d known something had happened to her—I had seen the bandages—but nothing had prepared me for this.

  Mae walked over and slumped down on the bed.

  Pull it together, Jules, I demanded of myself. I had to step up here, be a good person. Be a good friend.

  I walked over to the bed and sank down next to her. We sat for a few moments in silence.

  “That must have hurt an insane amount,” I offered, figuring I should just say something honest.

  Pulling at the carpet fibers with her toes, Mae nodded. “I almost passed out when they did it.”

  I didn’t ask who “they” were.

  “I would’ve.” I shuddered. I could barely even imagine someone making a cut on my back, let alone carving a gigantic star and circle. “You’re doing great with everything, Mae,” I complimented her. “Especially after all you’ve gone through.”

  Mae almost smiled. “Thank you, Jules,” she said quietly. I could tell she meant it. I was glad to be able to be supportive to her. She’d given me a lot—a popularity boost at school, a friend at home—I was glad to do something in return.

  But there was something still nagging at me that I couldn’t wrap my brain around.