I stay in the shadows near the cedar hedge, then cross over to the side of the school once I’m out of sight of anybody who might happen to look over. I start for the side door, keeping my gaze on the hallway on the other side of the glass, ready to keep walking on past if I see anyone. But the hall’s empty. The door, when I try it, is locked, but that’s no problem. I get out my tools to start to work on the lock.
“What’d I say about getting in my space, bug?”
The doorway’s wide, and I was so focused on who might be inside looking out that I didn’t realize Brent Calder was nearby until he steps from the shadows at the side of the door and opens his big stupid mouth. I didn’t realize, and I still don’t care. I’ve got real worries on my mind.
I look him straight in the eye.
“Blow it out your ass,” I tell him.
I turn back to the lock—I know, I know, what am I thinking? But for all his bullying and threats, I’ve just never taken him seriously. I’ve known dangerous people, and he’s not one of them. Except, he is bigger than me and he does have a chip on his shoulder, and he for sure can’t stand me.
Before I realize how stupid it is for me to ignore him, he gives me a shove that sends me sprawling.
“I don’t like that mouth on you,” he says as I bang into the wall on the far side of the doorway.
Now, here are the things I don’t know right then:
Redding lost the game against Mawson. They should have won, they would have won, except the pass Brent threw to Kyle Hanley was too long. Kyle made a grab for the ball anyway, tipped it with his fingers, and bounced it right into the hands of Mawson’s Andy Phipps, who took it back down the field for a first down that their team then parlayed into the winning touchdown.
Brent, of course, didn’t take responsibility for the loss. Never mind that he overthrew—Kyle should still have caught it.
In the crowd, apparently, were a couple of college talent scouts.
I don’t say this to excuse Brent’s actions. It just explains why he was in a fouler mood than usual tonight.
The upshot was, he caught Kyle in the locker room and put him in the hospital with a broken nose, two cracked ribs, a possible concussion, and an eye so swollen he can’t see out of it.
But like I said, I don’t know any of this yet.
What I do know is that he’s knocked me to the ground. It’s when I’m picking myself up I see that Valerie’s here, too. She’s crouched against the wall in the other corner of the doorway, crying, holding her stomach. Her bottom lip is cut and bleeding. Her left eye’s swelling up.
How did I so totally miss the two of them being here?
Brent says something else, but I don’t hear it. Adrenaline kicks in, and my brain just explodes with all the months I’ve had to put up with him and his crap; all the fear I have about these soul-eaters in the shadows; how I’ve tried to just be a normal kid, but nothing will let me.
I lift my gaze to see him coming right for me, so I bunch my legs up against my chest. Then just as he’s reaching down, I straighten one leg, hard, fast, and the solid heel of my boot gets him in the shin with all my strength behind it. He’s big and I’m small, but it makes him cry out and lose his balance all the same.
I get up as he’s going down. I’m not even thinking of what I’m doing. My switchblade’s in my hand. I flick the button and the blade springs out. He starts to rise, but I’m already moving, the knife arcing toward him.
I kept that blade sharp as a razor, and it hasn’t had any use since I stuffed it away in the bottom of my sock drawer when we moved here.
It slices through the material of his jeans, through skin and flesh, through sinew and muscle. Right below the knee.
He falls again and this time he goes down hard. His eyes widen with shock. He grabs his leg and his hands go bloody. His gaze comes back to me, and I kick him in the side of the head. I don’t think I broke his jaw, but I definitely loosened a few teeth.
He drops yet one more time, this time banging his head on the cement.
I step forward, ready, but he’s just whimpering now.
I wipe my blade on the sleeve of his jacket. He tries to grab at me with a bloody hand, but I kick the hand away.
I go over to where Valerie is huddled, staring at me as wide-eyed as Brent did when I cut him.
“We need to get you to a hospital,” I tell her as I help her to her feet. “Can you walk?”
She gives me a slow, numbed nod.
“I ... I need help, too ...” Brent says.
I give him a cold look. “Yeah, I guess you do. Good luck with that.”
“You ... goddamn bitch. I’ll—”
I lean Valerie up against the wall and take a step toward him. I don’t get any real satisfaction in seeing him flinch. Truth is, I’m starting to feel sick to my stomach at what I just did. It’s Frankie Lee all over again. There had to have been a better way to handle this, but I hadn’t bothered to try to think of it.
And now I’m not caring again because Brent won’t let it go. He’s cursing at me, and I guess anger makes the nausea go away.
“You’re not going to do a damn thing,” I tell him. “Think anybody’s going to believe a little bitty thing like me could have hurt a big strapping thug like you?”
“You can—”
I give the bottom of his foot a little tap with my boot— the foot at the end of the leg that’s bleeding all over his hands. He actually squeals from the pain.
“Here’s the thing,” I tell him. “You’re going to be laid up and not moving fast. If I can take you when you’re not hurt, just think how easy it’ll be for me later.”
“Just ... just wait ...”
“Until what? Your problem is you thought you were dangerous, but you don’t know the first thing about what’s dangerous. Back in Tyson, the kids I ran with would chew you up and spit you out without even breaking a sweat.” He’s shaking his head. “I ... I’ll get you.”
“Sure you will. Except you’ve got to sleep sometime. What happens when I sneak into your house with my knife? Just think about all the ways I can hurt you, you sorry-assed loser, and let me assure you, I know at least a dozen more. And here’s the kicker. I’m not afraid to do it. You think I’ve been scared of you? Sure. But that’s not why I let you push me around. I just didn’t want any trouble. But you know what? I don’t give a crap anymore. So just give me an excuse—any excuse—to finish what I started here, and I guarantee you’re going to really learn the meaning of pain.”
I give the bottom of his foot another tap.
“We clear on this?” I ask.
The fear in his eyes is stronger than the hate.
“Now I’ve got to get your girlfriend to the hospital and see if I can’t convince her to press charges against you. You just lie there and behave until we’re gone.”
“Help ... help me ...”
I can see it took a lot for him to get that out.
“Yeah,” I say. “Like that’s ever going to happen.”
Then I go back and collect Valerie and walk her toward the front of the school. Behind us, I can hear Brent start to sniffle.
“There’s still some cars out front,” I tell Valerie. “We’ll get somebody to drive you to emergency.”
“Please, no ...”
I give her a confused look, but then I get it. She doesn’t want anybody to see her like this, beat up by her own sorry-assed boyfriend. I check my watch. The hospital’s not far. I can get her there and still get back in time to hook up with Maxine and Pelly.
“Okay,” I say. “We’ll find our own way.”
I take her back along the edge of the cedar hedge, the way I came, and turn away from the school. I manage to flag down a cab at the next cross street.
“I need to get my friend to the hospital,” I tell the cabbie, “but I don’t have any money.”
I never thought to bring any.
He takes one look at Valerie, then leans over his seat and opens the door.<
br />
“Get in,” he says.
* * *
Once the nurse in emergency makes sure that none of Valerie’s cuts and bruises are life-threatening, she has us take a seat in the waiting room.
Of course the bright lights in here make the blue of my skin—not to mention my hair and fingernails and eyebrows—really jump out, so I’ve been fielding questions ever since we got here from other people in the waiting room as well as the nurses and hospital staff. Valerie’s only comment was, “What’s with the blue skin? That’s weird, even for you.” To her I just shrugged. My answers to the rest of them would start with “It’s for Halloween,” then I’d add something like, “I’m supposed to be Mystique—you know, from X-Men—only with clothes.”
And when they wanted to know how I did it, I’d just tell them it was a trade secret.
It kind of surprised me how they’d just nod sagely and leave it at that.
Valerie’s interest in how I look tonight is way down on her importance scale, which is a big change for her, but I can’t really blame her, considering what she’s been through. And I’m just as happy not to have to talk about it with her.
I check the clock above the nurses’ station. It’s a little past seven. Time to go.
“You’re going to be okay now,” I tell Valerie. “Just tell them what happened and for god’s sake, press charges against him.”
I don’t bother to ask her to leave me out of it. After tonight, after what happens when I get back to the school, it’s probably not going to matter.
“I ... I don’t know if I can,” Valerie says.
“This isn’t the first time, is it?”
She shakes her head. “But it’s ... it’s the worst. Usually, he just yells at me, or ... you know. Pushes me around a little.”
Yeah, I’ll bet.
But, “You want it to happen again?” is all I ask.
She gives another shake of her head.
“So this is how you do it. You press charges.”
“But—”
“Or next time, maybe he’ll hurt you even worse.”
She just looks at me. Every bit of the stuck-up high school princess is gone. But I don’t have any illusions. She’s not going to turn into some nice, considerate person overnight. That only happens in the movies.
“You hear me?” I say.
She nods. “I will,” she says, her voice small.
“Good. So I’ve got to go now.”
“No, please—”
“It can’t be helped, Valerie. I really have to go. You’re going to be okay. Brent won’t touch you here. The doctors’ll patch you all up, good as new. You don’t need me here.”
“Please ... stay,” Valerie says as I start to get up.
I shake my head, but she touches my arm and holds me a moment longer with a question.
“Why did you help me?” she asks.
This is worth an answer.
“Well, that’s the thing,” I tell her. “I believe we’re all here to look out for each other, even when the other’s a person like you. If I didn’t help you, I wouldn’t be able to respect myself.”
“But—”
“You treat Maxine and me like shit, so why should I bother?”
She gives a slow, unhappy nod.
“Because if I didn’t, then I’d be no better than you and your boyfriend.”
“You ... you could have done something to us anytime, couldn’t you?” she asks. “All those times we were ragging on you.”
“Your point being?”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I told you last year: I don’t want trouble at school. And remember what else I told you?”
You don’t ever want to see me out of school because I will so beat the crap out of you.
I can see by her eyes that she remembers. And now she knows I wasn’t just bullshitting her.
“Remind your boyfriend of that,” I tell her.
“He’s not my boyfriend. Not anymore.”
“Whatever.”
“He’s going to kill you.”
Stand in line, I think. By the time the soul-eaters are done with me, there won’t be enough left to get hurt. But all I say is: “I wasn’t joking. Tell him if he tries, I’m really going to hurt him.”
“I hated you,” Valerie says as I start to rise again. “Right from the first time I saw you.”
She delivers the words in a matter-of-fact voice that doesn’t have any passion in it at all.
“Yeah,” I tell her. “That’s been kind of obvious.”
“But I don’t know why.”
She looks at me like I’m supposed to have an answer for that, like I can explain what goes through her head.
“That’s something you’ve got to work out for yourself,” I say.
I almost add, “princess,” but something stops me. I guess I just want to let all of this go.
I glance at the clock again. Seven twenty.
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” I tell her, not that it’s going to make much of a difference.
And then I do get up and walk off, looking for a phone before I head back to the school. I’ve already put Valerie’s problems out of my mind by the time I find one. Instead I’m thinking of what’s waiting for me at the school. I remember what I’d said to Pelly, earlier in the day.
Do you believe in God?
I wish I did. I wish I could pray to him for a miracle and at least pretend to myself that maybe he’d deliver.
I actually fell asleep, hidden there behind this huge metal monstrosity. The soft gurgling sounds it made were soothing enough to let me drift off, even on a cement floor. I’m dreaming of little fairy men trying on thrift shop clothes when my cell phone wakes me. I jerk my head up, banging it against the wall behind me, and I don’t have a clue where I am.
At the second ring, I remember and suddenly worry about the sound of the phone scaring off the fairies. I fumble the cell out of my pocket, flick it open, and push talk.
“Hello?” I whisper into it.
“You okay?” Imogene says. “I can hardly hear you.”
“I’m in the basement,” I tell her, “waiting to see if the fairies take the clothes we left for them.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know. But it was hang here, or find some closet somewhere where no one would ask me what I’m still doing at school.”
“So did they take them?”
“Let me look.”
I peer around the tank of whatever it is I’m hiding behind and check where I laid out the clothes.
“They did!” I say, my voice at a more normal volume. “Some of them, anyway.”
I get up and walk around the machine. I count the sets I laid out.
“Five sets are gone,” I tell Imogene.
“Well, now we know that works.”
“I guess. Unless they’re still here, but running around dressed like weird little thrift shop kids.”
Imogene laughs.
“So where are you?” I ask.
She tells me what happened, and my heart speeds up in my chest. My palms get all sweaty. She’s so matter-of-fact about her encounter with Brent—she sounds completely normal—but I’m feeling this whole weird mix of emotions. Relieved she’s okay, of course. Bad for her that she had to go through this. But scared, because it’s true—she really can do this stuff.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask when she’s done.
“I’m fine.”
“You sound so calm.”
There’s a moment’s silence on her end. It’s quiet enough that I can hear some doctor being paged.
“I don’t like that I had to do it,” she says finally, “but I don’t regret that I did it. Brent Calder is over twice my size, and there’s no way I could have stopped him without his underestimating me and me having my blade. Did you hear what he did to Kyle Hanley, just because he didn’t catch a pass?”
“No.”
“Valerie tol
d me he put Kyle in the hospital. Then he beat her up, and he was ready to do the same to me. He’s not just a bully anymore. He’s turned into some feral thing. He had to be stopped.”
“I ... I wasn’t saying you shouldn’t have done ... what you did. It’s just ... I don’t know how you did do it. How you could be that ... I don’t know, brave, I guess.”
She sighs. “I don’t know that it was bravery, Maxine. I was just mad. It’s like he flicked a switch in my brain and he let out this other me, the one I’ve been trying to keep locked up in a little part of my brain since we moved to Newford.”
“So you ... you’ve done this before? Back in Tyson.”
“No, I never cut anybody. But like I told you, I’ve been in fights before and I’ve pulled my knife on a couple of people. I just didn’t have to use it.”
She might not be fazed, but I feel like I’m in shock, and I wasn’t even there.
“So,” I say, “are we still ... you know ...”
“On for tonight? Absolutely. I just wanted to give you a heads-up before I left the hospital to let you know I might be a little late. I don’t have any money on me. We got a free ride from a Good Samaritan cabbie, but I have to hike back.”
“I have money.”
“But we don’t want you waiting in front of the school to pay off the cab, now do we?”
“I guess not.”
“Don’t worry,” she says. “I won’t be that long.”
“Okay.”
“Oh, has Pelly showed up yet?”
“I haven’t seen him. I haven’t seen anybody.”
“Let’s keep it that way,” she says. “He’s probably up in the drama rooms, waiting for us. Just sit tight and give me half an hour or so, okay?”
“Sure.”
She says good-bye and cuts the connection. I pull my cell from my ear and look at it for a long moment before I press end, fold it closed, and stick it back in my pocket.
I’m feeling kind of numbed. What happened to Imogene tonight has nothing to do with the fairies or the anamithim, but it brings what we’re about to attempt into way too sharp a focus. This isn’t a fairy tale; it’s actually happening. The danger is real. We might get hurt. Though when you think about it, fairy tales—real fairy tales, not the sanitized ones that end up in picture books and Disney cartoons—are all about danger and pain and terrible things happening. People get hurt in them all the time. And they don’t always end “happily ever after” either.
The Blue Girl Page 23