The Unwanted

by John Saul

  They started up the steps of the school, and for the first time since Miranda had died, Cassie was genuinely smiling. But suddenly Lisa Chambers detached herself from a group of her friends, her eyes flashing with anger when she saw Cassie with Eric.

  “What’s so funny?” she demanded of Cassie, slipping her arm possessively through Eric’s. Cassie’s smile faded away, and she hurried up the steps and disappeared into the building.

  “We were just talking, that’s all,” Eric explained. He faltered, seeing the jealousy in Lisa’s eyes. “It didn’t mean anything. I mean—”

  “I know what you meant, Eric,” Lisa said, dropping his arm as her voice turned chillingly cold. Silence fell over the group on the steps as they all listened. “And if you want to spend your time with someone like her, I’m sure I don’t care.” She turned back to the group she’d left seconds before, leaving Eric standing helplessly alone as all the rest of the kids stared at him.

  This is how Cassie felt last week, Eric thought. Just like some kind of freak.

  When the last bell of the day finally rang, Cassie still hadn’t made up her mind what she was going to do. Today had been even worse than last week. She’d made it through the morning only by telling herself repeatedly that she’d see Eric at noon and at least she wouldn’t have to eat at a table by herself, with everyone staring at her. But when she got to the cafeteria, Eric was nowhere to be seen. She’d waited at the door for ten minutes, hoping he’d show up, but when they finally began closing down the steam table, she took a tray, chose some food without really looking at it, and started toward the same table she’d occupied the week before.

  As she moved through the cafeteria she felt the rest of the students staring at her, and heard them whispering to each other after she passed their tables. Though she couldn’t hear all that they said, she heard enough.

  “Everybody knows she did something,” Lisa Chambers said as Cassie passed the table where Lisa sat with Allayne Garvey and Teri Bennett. Lisa hadn’t even bothered to lower her voice. “I mean, my mother actually saw Mr. Templeton’s car in front of their house yesterday!”

  “But what’s going to happen?” Teri demanded. “If she killed Miranda, why don’t they arrest her?”

  “Maybe she didn’t do anything at all,” Allayne Garvey suggested, but by the time she spoke, Cassie was out of earshot. “Maybe you’re just mad, Lisa, because Eric came to school with her again.”

  “I don’t care about Eric,” Lisa insisted. She raised her voice to make sure it would carry across the room to the table where Cassie sat by herself. “If he wants to spend all his time with someone who’s crazy, why should I care? But he better watch out—she might do the same thing to him that she did to Miranda Sikes!”

  A wave of rage washed over Cassie and she wanted to scream at Lisa. But she didn’t. Instead she made herself remember the words Miranda had spoken to her the day she’d died.

  ‘It doesn’t matter what they say about me, and it doesn’t matter what they say about you. Some people are set apart from everyone else, Cassie. But whatever they say about you, they can never truly hurt you.’ She’d smiled then, a small, cryptic smile that Cassie hadn’t understood. ‘I made certain of that. So don’t worry about what they say. Just don’t let them hurt you. Be true to yourself, and always remember that you must never let them hurt you.’

  So instead of saying anything, Cassie simply sat alone at her table, concentrating on forcing the tasteless food into her mouth and trying not to gag as she swallowed it. The lunch hour seemed endless, and when the bell finally rang, she began the afternoon ordeal, moving somnolently from class to class, the stares and whispers of her classmates stinging her soul.

  At last it was three o’clock, and she had to make up her mind.

  Should she go out to the baseball diamond to wait for Eric, or should she just leave and spend the afternoon by herself? She thought about the beach and the little house in the marsh, and the prospect of being alone with nothing but the seabirds and the crashing of the surf for company. At least out there no one could stare at her, and if people were whispering, she couldn’t hear them.

  Then she remembered Eric, and his absence from the cafeteria at lunchtime. Making up her mind, she shoved her books into her bag and left the building by the back door. A small set of bleachers stood behind the backstop. Already a group of girls was clustered at the far end of the lowest three tiers. They turned away from Cassie as she approached, and began giggling among themselves. Every few seconds, one of them would surreptitiously glance at Cassie. Head held high, Cassie pretended she didn’t notice.

  There was no one on the baseball diamond yet, so Cassie fished her math book out of the bag and began working on the homework assignments from the last two days, which Mr. Simms had insisted be completed even though Cassie had missed the classes. “After all,” he’d pointed out in front of the whole class, his voice edged with sarcasm, “it isn’t as if you were sick, is it? No one else went to Miranda Sikes’s funeral, did they? It’s beginning to look as if you don’t think school is worth bothering with.”

  Cassie’s face had burned as a ripple of snickering had passed over the class. “But she was my friend,” she’d breathed.

  Simms’s thin lips had only curled into a scornful sneer. “Even if that were true, Cassie, you hardly knew her. And if you had, you’d know she was nothing more than a mental case who should never have been let out of the hospital. In my opinion you simply used Miranda Sikes’s unfortunate demise as another opportunity to cut classes. Your parents may approve, but I don’t. Please have the assignments completed by tomorrow.”

  Cassie had forced herself to stifle an urge to run from the room. It didn’t matter, she told herself once again. He can’t hurt you. None of them can. So instead of running away, she’d controlled her tears, and her anger, and her pain. And now, as she looked at the assignment, she was glad she had. The problems in algebra were so simple she could work most of them in her head. Shutting everything else out of her mind, she quickly began writing down the equations and their solutions.

  Twenty minutes later, just as she finished the last problem, the baseball team trotted onto the field to warm up. Eric hesitated for a split second, and Cassie felt a quick pang of fear that he was going to ignore her, but then he waved before he and Jeff Maynard began tossing a ball back and forth along the first-base line. At last the coach came out of the gym, but it wasn’t until he’d actually arrived at the diamond that Cassie recognized him.

  It was Mr. Simms.

  His mouth was twisted into the same ugly smile he’d worn while humiliating Cassie earlier that day, and she knew instantly that something else was about to happen. But this time she couldn’t be the target—he hadn’t even seen her.

  He blew his whistle, and the team immediately gathered around him. He said nothing for a few seconds, and the boys fell silent, squirming uncomfortably as they cast sidelong glances toward Eric. In the bleachers Cassie suddenly understood who Simms’s new victim was.

  “Decide to join us today, Cavanaugh?” Simms finally asked, his small, close-set eyes fixing on Eric.

  Eric nodded. “I—I’m sorry about yesterday,” he said. “I shouldn’t have skipped practice, and I won’t do it again.”

  “What you do or don’t do isn’t really of interest to me, Cavanaugh.” Simms’s eyes glittered with pleasure at Eric’s discomfort. “If you can do without us, we can certainly do without you. As of now you’re off the team. Smythe, you’ll be taking over as pitcher.”

  Eric’s eyes widened as the coach’s words sunk in. “Off the team?” he repeated. “But—but you can’t do that.”

  “Can’t I?” Simms replied with an exaggerated drawl. “And what makes you say that?”

  “It’s not fair,” Eric pleaded. “I’m the best pitcher in the school, and I have to play baseball.”

  “Really?” the coach pressed, now openly relishing Eric’s misery. “And why is that?”

  E
ric’s voice fell to a whisper. “If I’m going to college, I have to have a scholarship,” he managed. “And if I can get one in baseball, I can go to—”

  “Too bad you didn’t think of that yesterday,” the coach interrupted. “But it’s too late now, isn’t it?” He turned his back on Eric and faced the rest of the team. “All right, let’s get it going, guys,” he called. “Let’s have a lot of chatter out there, okay?”

  The boys glanced at each other, uncertain what to do. Kevin Smythe, his eyes smoldering angrily, was about to say something, when Cassie, whose own fury had been growing as she’d listened to Simms talk to Eric, scrambled off the bleachers and hurried out onto the field.

  “Mr. Simms?” she called.

  The coach swung around and looked at her. “Well, look who’s here,” he said, glancing at the boys then facing Cassie again. “I would have thought you’d be long gone.” Two of the boys snickered quietly but fell silent when the others didn’t join in. “What is it?” Simms asked. “If it’s a question about your assignments, save it for class.”

  “It isn’t,” Cassie said. “I just wanted to turn the work in now.”

  Simms hesitated, and his sarcastic smile gave way to an uncertain frown. “You’re done?”

  Cassie shrugged. “I’m going to talk to Mrs. Ambler about changing classes,” she said, her voice perfectly level.

  Simms’s smile returned. “If the work’s too hard—”

  “It’s not,” Cassie replied. “It’s too easy. But I guess if the school needs a baseball coach that badly, they have to give you something else to do, don’t they?” She let her voice drift off, and shrugged again. Then, as the baseball team stared at her in stunned silence, she turned and walked away from the baseball diamond. She could feel Simms’s fury bore into her as she left, and knew she’d gone too far. What if there was no other class for her to transfer into? What if she had to stay in Simms’s class for the rest of the year? It didn’t matter, she decided: what he’d done to Eric wasn’t fair, and she’d had to do something. She’d had to.

  She was three blocks from the school when Eric, panting, caught up with her. “I thought you were going to wait for me.”

  “I—I wasn’t sure you’d want me to,” Cassie stammered. “I mean, after what happened.”

  Eric rolled his eyes. “What happened is nothing next to what’s going to happen. You should have seen Simms after you left. All the guys started laughing at him, and I thought he was going to go crazy. Now he’s going to be out to get you.”

  Cassie nodded. “I know. But I was so mad, I didn’t even think about it.” She hesitated, then met Eric’s eyes. “Is it true? That you have to get a baseball scholarship if you want to go to college?”

  Eric nodded, his jaw setting angrily, and he fell into step beside Cassie. “I don’t see how I can make it any other way. God knows, my dad doesn’t make enough money to help me out. And he probably wouldn’t, even if he could.” He shook his head bitterly. “Now I’m going to have to talk to Mrs. Ambler tomorrow and try to get her to fix it with Simms. He thinks he’s a big deal, but he’s scared to death of her. At least she still likes me.” He shifted his book bag to his other hand and glanced at Cassie. “So what are you going to do? He’s the only math teacher, and you’ve gotta take math.”

  Cassie shook her head. “What can I do? I’ll just make sure I do all the work and pass all the tests. And next year I’ll get someone else.”

  Eric shook his head. “I told you, there isn’t anyone else. Simms has senior math, too. The only way you’re going to get away from him is if he quits, and he’ll never do that.” He grinned. “Unless we could figure out some way to make him quit.”

  Cassie stopped walking and turned to face Eric. “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”

  Eric’s jaw clenched. “Maybe I am. I mean, he didn’t have to kick me off the team just because I skipped practice, did he? It isn’t fair. Besides, there isn’t any harm in thinking about it, is there? I mean, as long as we don’t actually do anything to him.”

  Cassie thought about it for a few seconds, and once more Miranda’s words echoed in her mind.

  “Don’t let them hurt you. Never let them hurt you.”

  But what if they did hurt you?

  “Why not?” she thought out loud. “You can’t hurt someone just by thinking about it, can you?”

  Eric glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, but said nothing.

  They were still a hundred yards from the house in the marsh when the pale form of the white hawk rose up into the afternoon sky, screeching loudly. Eric froze, his eyes tracking the bird until it suddenly disappeared into the sun and the brilliant glare made him turn away.

  “It’s all right,” Cassie told him. “His name’s Kiska and he’s my friend. As long as you’re with me, he won’t do anything at all.” She started forward, but Eric didn’t move. He was staring up into the sky once more, watching the hawk circling above them. “Watch,” Cassie said quietly.

  She gazed up into the sky and her eyes locked onto the soaring bird. Then, slowly, she raised her right arm, with her index finger pointed directly at the cabin.

  As if she’d issued a command, the bird instantly banked and began beating its wings against the breeze. A moment later it settled onto the peak of the house and began preening its feathers.

  Eric’s heart pounded. He turned to face Cassie. “How did you do that?” he asked. “Did—did Miranda teach you that?”

  Cassie smiled at him, nodding happily. “I told you he’s my friend. He was Miranda’s friend, but now he’s mine.” Her smile widened into a grin. “He’ll do anything I want him to.”

  Eric looked at her sharply. “What do you mean?”

  But instead of answering him, Cassie merely smiled.

  With Eric following behind her and keeping a watchful eye on the restless hawk on the roof, she led him toward the little cabin on the hill.

  On the porch, his tail curled around his feet, they found Sumi waiting. He jumped into Cassie’s arms, and she cuddled him for a moment. Then they stepped through the cabin’s door.

  Though on the outside the cabin seemed dilapidated and about to collapse, the walls inside were paneled with pine, all of it waxed to a soft golden sheen which appeared to glow from within. There was a large walnut armoire against one wall, and against another, tucked into one of the corners, was a small bed. A table sat in the very center of the cabin’s single room, and the back wall was half occupied by a stone fireplace, to which a cast-iron wood-burning cooking stove had been added at some time in the distant past. Along the other half of the wall was a wooden counter with a sink mounted in it, and above the counter, on either side of the window, pine cabinets.

  Aside from the two chairs at the center table, there was an old wooden rocker next to a small table by one of the front windows. There was no other furniture.

  Though everything in the cabin was very old, and obviously made by hand, each object had been perfectly cared for. There was not even so much as a speck of dust in the room, nor was there any sign of the clutter with which everyone in False Harbor had always assumed Miranda surrounded herself.

  Eric grinned to himself. It was nothing like anyone thought it was. And that, he decided, was the strangest thing about the cabin. You couldn’t tell from the outside what was happening on the inside. In some ways, the cabin was just like himself.

  He looked up.

  The four triangular panels of the peaked ceiling were each painted a different color, and all of them were covered with strange designs that time had faded until they were nearly invisible.

  “What is it?” he asked. “Did she ever tell you what they mean?”

  “It’s astrology,” Cassie explained. “She told me this house is special because it’s in tune with everything around it.” She hesitated a moment, but when Eric said nothing, she went on. “She told me it’s a magical place.”

  Eric’s eyes avoided hers, but when he spoke, she heard no tra
ce of mockery in his voice. “Did you believe her?” he asked.

  “I—I don’t know,” Cassie replied. “I’m not even sure what she meant. But I know she believed it.”

  “But didn’t she tell you?” Eric asked, his tone more insistent now. “She must have said something else.”

  “She did,” Cassie said, sinking down onto one of the chairs at the table. Eric was looking at her, and she searched his eyes but was sure she saw nothing in them except curiosity. He wasn’t looking at her the way the rest of the kids had.

  She decided she could trust him.

  “She said I was special,” she told him. “She said she was giving me a gift and that I could … well, that I could do things. And she said I shouldn’t let people hurt me.”

  Eric’s heart beat faster. “You mean, like Mr. Simms hurt us,” he said.

  Cassie thought a moment. “I—I guess so,” she said finally.

  Eric dropped onto the chair opposite her and picked up Sumi, who was anxiously pacing the floor beneath the table. “But what can you do?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” Cassie breathed. “But I’m going to try to find out.” She closed her eyes and her lips began to move, though no sound emerged from her throat.

  Eric watched her as the seconds slowly stretched into minutes. Silently, fixing his gaze on her in fascination, he watched until he saw Sumi slide out from under his caressing fingers and off his lap.

  A moment later the cat slipped out the door.

  Harold Simms lounged against the wall of the locker room until the last of the boys had dressed and left, then went into the little office he shared with the other coaches and closed the door.

  Still seething with anger at what Cassie Winslow had said to him earlier that afternoon, he finally picked up the sheaf of paper on which she’d neatly laid out the two days of homework that should have taken her at least two hours to complete.

  All of it was done perfectly.

  Obviously, he decided, she must have cheated. Even if she’d spent the hour of her study hall working on it, she shouldn’t have been able to finish the assignments so quickly. He concluded that she’d just done today’s assignment, and Eric Cavanaugh had given her the answers to yesterday’s. Smiling to himself, he marked both papers with an F, and added an admonition that cheating would not be tolerated in his class. And just let her try to argue, he thought to himself. She’s in big enough trouble already, and if she starts backtalking, I’ll have her suspended. In fact he hoped she would talk back to him, and give him an acceptable excuse to punish her for the humiliation she’d caused him. He could still hear the laughter from the baseball team, still see them looking at him with mocking eyes.