Mephisto Waltz

by Bridgett Kay Specht

  As if on cue, my phone rang and I knew it was Mother calling to tell me it was time to return. I stood, answered the phone, and turned away from the sea to walk home.

  #

  The next day at school, I was unusually awkward around Clara. Having decided to requite her feelings, I now had to decide where and how I would tell her. I wanted to tell her face-to-face, and I needed to be able to get her alone to do so. Before I approached her, I wanted to find the perfect words to express my feelings for her, but everything I thought of sounded either stupidly cliché or hopelessly corny. Every time I thought about telling her, I got uncontrollable butterflies in the pit of my stomach, and my nervousness threatened to overwhelm me.

  I didn't have an opportunity to talk to Clara very much in Latin class, but I couldn't even say "good morning" to her without stuttering. Later, as I was walking across the courtyard to our lunch spot, I was distracted by the sight of Clara lounging gracefully under the oak tree. She looked up at me and waved just as a gust of wind rustled the tree, causing some golden fall-leaves to cascade around her. I waved back, and as I did, I collided head-first with Chad.

  "Ouch, watch where you're going," he complained.

  "That’s my line," I replied, checking my nose to see if it was broken. After we'd sorted out our injuries and gathered our dropped things, we sat down with our friends, all of whom were still laughing at our predicament.

  "Some friends, laughing at our pain," Chad grumbled.

  "Don't sulk, Chad. You'll live," Summer replied, still laughing.

  "The look on your face was priceless," Jason agreed between bites of lunch. He seemed to be in a hurry, and was bolting his lunch down quickly.

  Clara was laughing as well, but leaned over and touched my nose tenderly. "Is your nose alright? It's very red."

  "It's ok," I replied, trying not to blush. "It's not bleeding, is it?" I asked.

  "Not that I can see." She rummaged through her bag and took out a small packet of tissues. "I have these, though, just in case."

  She handed me the tissues, and our hands touched briefly. I felt my face grow warm, and looked down, embarrassed. "Thank you."

  I held one of the tissues to my nose and looked up. I saw Summer glaring at me disapprovingly, but I ignored her. Jason, also, was looking at me with an air of disapproval, but he finished bolting his lunch and stood up.

  "If you're finished, Chad, we need to go to the Gym and help with the stage setup for the dance tomorrow," Jason said.

  Chad pouted, but got up, taking his food with him and eating on the way.

  "What are you two wearing to the dance?" Summer asked excitedly when the boys had gone.

  "I didn't know I was going to the dance," Clara said.

  "Of course you are. We all are," Summer said exasperatedly.

  "No one's asked me to go," Clara protested.

  "You don't have to have a date, we'll go as a group. Seriously, why is it such a struggle to get you to do anything social?"

  "I can't dance," Clara continued.

  "How can you not dance? Your mother used to be a professional dancer. You took ballet lessons until you were a freshman," Summer said.

  "Ballet isn't the same thing," Clara replied.

  "Listen, if you don't go and at least watch Candy Mountain play, Chad will cry. You don't want to make Chad cry, do you?" Summer asked.

  Clara didn't answer, but looked at me with a questioning glance. I didn't know what to say, so I blurted out, "I used to take ballet lessons, too, when I was little."

  Summer rolled her eyes. "What is with you today, Miranda? First you mumble and stutter all morning, then you turn into a klutz, and then you completely fail to keep up with a simple conversation. You're being a complete space-case. Tell Clara to come to the dance on Friday."

  "I can't tell Clara what to do," I said, "and I'm not a space-case," I added indignantly.

  "I'll go," Clara said. "But if I see David, I'm leaving."

  I felt my mood began to lift, realizing that the school dance was the perfect opportunity to get Clara alone. Even if David did appear, I'd be able to offer Clara a ride home, and talk to her face-to face then.

  "You wouldn't have to leave early if I were allowed to kill David," Summer persisted.

  "You are sweet, Summer. No one's ever offered to commit murder for me before, but it’s better not to let him turn you into a felon. I'll find a way to keep him away from Giselle. Mom already has her practically under house arrest, and she's still in junior high, so she can't see him in school. David might get bored with dating a junior high school girl, and give up on her completely," Clara said hopefully.

  Clara's hopeful mood was refreshing. She looked so much healthier and happier after our talk that I was convinced I'd made the right decision. She ate her lunch, laughed and talked with Summer, and seemed not to have a care in the world. I watched her, my own lunch forgotten, with a sense of happy satisfaction.

  "Is that okay, Miranda?" Summer asked.

  "Is what okay?" I replied.

  "Miranda, please wake up. I was just saying that you should both pick out what you're going to wear tonight, and then, on Friday afternoon, come over to my house so I can do your hair and makeup."

  "Oh, yes, that sounds fine," I agreed.

  Lunchtime was over, so I walked Clara to class, glad that Summer had her next class on the opposite side of campus. I was able to speak freely that way, and not have to worry about being lectured for flirting. Clara seemed so happy, that she didn't even glance at David, who shared her next class and glared at us as we talked outside of the classroom. When I left Clara to go to my own class, David was still glaring at me, but my heart was so light that I simply smiled and waved at him in response.

  #

  That evening, I applied myself to the daunting task of picking out a dress for the dance. I had quite a few dresses, a couple of them formal, but most of them simply church dresses. I pulled the nicest of my church dresses, as well as my formal gowns, out of the closet and piled them on the bed. While I was still doing this, my phone rang. It was Aunt Elizabeth.

  "Hello, Miranda. I haven't heard from you in a while. I hope you're doing well," she said.

  "Hi, Aunt Elizabeth," I said brightly, separating the clothes on my bed into neat piles. "I'm fine, how are you?"

  "I'm doing well, thank you. I must admit, it's been so long since your last call that I was beginning to worry," she said in a low voice. I immediately felt guilty for not calling her earlier.

  "I'm sorry, but things have been weird lately. I was planning to call you soon, though."

  "Is there anything you want to talk about?" she asked.

  "No, not yet. I promise, though, that I will tell you what's been happening very soon. In fact, I will tell you Saturday, if everything goes according to plan."

  "You sound optimistic. Alek- Mr. Boscov- told me that you seemed upset about something yesterday.”

  "How much do you know?" I asked. "Did he tell you what we talked about during my lesson?"

  "Yes," she admitted, "though he was very vague. He only hinted that you might want someone to talk to that you could trust."

  "Well, I was pretty vague with him. I will need to talk to you, but not yet. I'm sorry for being so mysterious."

  "Are you sure you are well?"

  "I'm very well," I said, picking out a peach organdy dress I'd worn the previous Easter. "Things are confusing right now, but very good."

  "It almost sounds as though you've fallen in love," Aunt Elizabeth said lightly.

  "Do you think my peach organdy dress could be dressed up for evening?" I asked, changing the subject. I carried the dress into the bathroom so I could hold it in front of myself and examine it in the full-length mirror.

  "I think it could, perhaps with some pearls," she said. "Are you planning a date?"

  "I'm going to a school dance with a group of friends," I said.

  "I see. I'm glad you've made so many friends. I've been worried that you
would get lonely at your new school."

  "I am lonely, sometimes," I said plainly. "At school, when I'm with my friends, I'm okay, but when I'm home and it's quiet, or when I need someone to talk to, I think of Mark. He understood me in a way no one else could."

  "You can always come to me, but I know it isn't the same. You and Mark shared a special bond. I hope you find someone your own age you can talk to with that sort of ease."

  I immediately thought of Clara, but I didn't want to give anything away, so I remained silent.

  "It's getting late, so I won't pry anymore," Aunt Elizabeth said. "Promise you will call me on Saturday, though. You're a young woman with good judgment, so I'm sure you will be alright. Be sure to use that good judgment before you leap into anything, though."

  "I promise, both to call you on Saturday and to use my good judgment," I laughed. "Trust me, I've been thinking about things long and hard, and I know I'm on the right path. I swayed the peach dress back and forth, as if dancing, and said, "Yes, I'll definitely wear the peach organdy."

  "Can you promise me one more thing?" Aunt Elizabeth asked.

  "Yes?"

  "Enjoy yourself at the dance," she said.

  I laughed, made my promise, and said goodnight. Then I hung the dress on one of the handles of the double-doors of my armoire, next to my clean school uniform, which hung on the other handle, and got ready for bed. I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep, but I decided to try and go to bed early, because I'd be up late the next night. Mother had gladly extended my curfew for the dance, because I’d been so good about obeying curfew so far.

  I almost felt guilty, knowing I planned to go against what I knew to be her wishes while at the dance, but I knew Aunt Elizabeth was right; I had my own good judgment and would use it when deciding how to live.

  I climbed into bed, closed the bed curtains like I always did, and slid under the covers, clutching the flop-eared rabbit Clara had once admired. I touched my nose to the rabbit's, remembering how Clara had kissed it, and then closed my eyes with a contented sigh.

  I was too excited to sleep, though, and I lay for a long time, eyes shut but wide awake, trying to slow my breathing. I had almost decided to give up, turn on the light, and get a book to read, when I heard a familiar sigh of wind, and a voice whispering, "Miranda."

  So, I thought, I was asleep, after all, and dreaming like I had a week ago. I kept my eyes closed, determined to will my dream away. I tried to think about something else, and clutched my rabbit tighter, but I heard another rustle, and felt the bed curtain brush against my arm.

  My eyes flew open in alarm, and I saw a human-shaped shadow fall on the bed curtain. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I could make out the shape more clearly. It was tall and broad-shouldered. It definitely looked male. It moved silently across my room, first one direction, then another. It walked past my bed again, rustling the curtains at my feet. I drew my feet up and shut my eyes again.

  "Wake up," I ordered myself.

  Just then I heard a loud thump and I opened my eyes again. I was terrified, but I was certain that no ghost or specter could make a noise that loud. I got up and pulled the curtain on the canopy back, revealing an empty, dark room.

  "You're being silly," I told myself aloud. I got out of bed and turned on the lights. "See, there's nothing here."

  I looked around the room, which was still empty. Satisfied I was alone, I was about to go back to bed when I noticed that my dress had moved, and was now hanging directly on top of my school uniform instead of beside it. Puzzled, I went to move it back to its original position when I saw a small packet of paper tucked into the dress's sash. I hadn't put it there, and for a moment I was too frightened to reach out and grab it in order to see what it was. However, I told myself that perhaps Mother or Daddy had come into my room to check on me, and left me a note. I laughed at my fears, took the packet, and opened it. What I saw made me gasp aloud, and I stumbled back to sit on my bed, unable to stand.

  I had a spell of vertigo, in which my vision went fuzzy and dark, but when my vision cleared again, what I'd seen was still there, spilled out on my bedspread, undeniably real.

  There were 4 cards, ornately decorated, showing the five of swords, the queen of wands, the devil, and the hanged man.

  Chapter 6

  Confessions

  The World

  I sat on my bed a while and let my imagination run wild. At first I thought the cards were a ghostly warning or manifestation of the supernatural, telling me that Clara was in danger. Once I had calmed myself, I realized that such reasoning was absurd. The cards on the bed were real, substantial objects, mass-printed in a factory somewhere. They were very pretty, and served a whimsical purpose, but there was nothing mystical about them at all. They had arrived mysteriously, but not miraculously. It was unlikely that Mother or Daddy had brought them into my room, but someone else could have brought them, perhaps by coming in through my window. I never bothered latching the window shut, because I was on the second floor, and now I thought perhaps I had been foolish not to.

  I went to my window to examine it, and found that not only was it slightly ajar, but the cushions on my window-seat were in disarray, as well. I opened the window all the way and looked out. Outside my window was a small ledge that ran around the side of the house, and was level with the roof of the garage. Someone, I reasoned, could have used a ladder, or perhaps climbed the oak tree next to the garage to get level with my window, and, with good balance, walk the ledge to my room. I shut my window all the way and latched it tightly shut, then straightened the cushions on my window-seat and went back to bed.

  #

  I had a hard time sleeping that night, not only because I was still shaken with fear, but also because I could not contain my suspicions. I thought about the incident all night, and was distracted by it at school the next day. My friends, growing used to my state of distraction, left me alone. Even that afternoon, as I sat in Summer's bright fuchsia bedroom, getting my hair and makeup done, I sat quietly as Summer chatted excitedly, consumed by my own thoughts.

  "I guess it's just as well that Clara can't come until her art club meeting is over, because your hair will take the longest. I wish I had a larger curling iron."

  "Thank you for helping," I said. "I'm so tired now; I doubt I could even hold a curling iron."

  "You should have gone to sleep early last night. We're going to be up pretty late, tonight," Summer said in an offhand way. I felt a bit guilty as I examined Summer for any double meaning to her statement, wondering if she knew the reason I was up late the night before. It felt wrong to suspect Summer, but only 3 people knew about the tarot reading she'd given to Clara, and she was one of them. I could think of no reason for Clara to play such a strange prank as sneaking into my room at night to leave the tarot cards. Summer, I thought, might have played a trick like that to remind me not to play with Clara's feelings, even though I thought it was highly unlikely. The figure I'd seen steal into my room had been tall and broad shouldered, and I was now convinced more than ever it had been male.

  Perhaps, I thought, she had mentioned the tarot-reading incident to Jason and Chad. Chad seemed to want to encourage my feelings toward Clara, so it made little sense for him to try and frighten me. Jason, however, had the motivation to try and discourage me from pursuing Clara.

  "Okay, you're finished," Summer said. "Put on your dress, so I can see how it looks."

  I thanked Summer again and took my dress into the restroom to change. I slipped the soft organdy over my head, turned to the mirror to look, and was glad I had chosen that particular dress. It was a simple, empire-waisted dress, and with the way Summer had chosen to style my hair-softly curled with a small braid wrapped around my head like a crown- the effect was almost Elizabethan. I smoothed my dress and stepped out of the bathroom to show off.

  When I emerged, I saw that Clara had arrived and was sitting patiently the same chair I'd occupied earlier, being styled by Summer. She was already dre
ssed in a gown of light blue satin. Her skin was like porcelain, and Summer was smoothing her hair so that it hung like silk to her shoulders. I couldn't look away.

  "Wow, Miranda, that is perfect," Summer said with an approving glance. "You will definitely catch someone special tonight."

  I refrained from saying that I hoped she was right.

  "Finished," Summer said, pinning a white rose to Clara's hair. "Now I'm going to get dressed." She stood and hurried from the room.

  "You look very nice," I said to Clara. "That color suits you."

  "You look nice, too," she said, "like something from a fairy tale."

  "Thank you, though I feel more like something from Night of the Living Dead," I sighed. "I didn't sleep at all, last night. I'm going to need copious amounts of caffeine to get me through the night."

  "Why didn't you sleep? I hope you're not getting sick, too. Something awful has been spreading at school."

  "No, I'm perfectly healthy. Last night, someone decided to send me a message."

  "A message?" she asked, looking wary.

  I went to my purse and took out the paper packet with the cards. "It's either a warning, or a threat. Either way, someone's trying to send me a message," I said, and handed her the cards.

  "These are my cards," she gasped. "How did you get these?"

  I told her the story of the previous night, and how I saw a mysterious figure steal into my room and leave the cards tucked into my dress. "Someone came in through my window with the intent to frighten me. It worked."

  "It must have been Giselle," she said, to my surprise. "No one else saw the cards."

  "But what reason would she have to scare me?" I asked. "Besides, the person I saw in my room looked male."

  Clara seemed about to argue this point, but before she could, Summer came back into the room, wearing a bright fuchsia dress with a poufy crinoline skirt and tight, laced bodice.