Testify

by Valerie Sherrard

  “What did she want?” I ask.

  Hayley’s eyes lift to meet mine. “What did she want?” she says. “She wanted to let me know how the rest of you felt. That you didn’t want anything more to do with me, since you all apparently believe I’ve been stealing from you.”

  “And that’s what she told you?” I ask. I’m not nearly as shocked as I should be, so I guess I suspected something like this.

  “Well, I’ve left out the nasty details, but yes, that’s what she told me.”

  “It’s a lie,” I say.

  “A lie?”

  “Absolutely. In fact, it’s the opposite of what she was supposed to tell you.”

  Hayley has slumped a little. I lean forward, reaching across the space between us, and put my hand on her arm. I start talking and I don’t stop until I’ve told her everything. She’s the most shocked by the things Carrie claims she said about the rest of us.

  “I would never say any of those things!” she cries. “You’re my friends.”

  “I know. And I believe you,” I say. “And I know you didn’t steal anything, either.”

  Hayley jumps up and crosses the short space to where I’m sitting. She hugs me and begins to cry.

  “I felt so alone,” she says between sobs. “I thought she’d managed to turn everyone against me. And I didn’t know what to do about it. It looked so bad — especially when your brooch turned up in my bag. And Carrie was so convincing.”

  I think about how Carrie pretended to believe Hayley might have hidden the piece of jewellery in the house. At the time, that had helped dispel any doubts I had. It made the case against Hayley so much more convincing, which, of course, is why she did it.

  But, I realize suddenly, it had done more than just convince the rest of us. It had also thrown Hayley off guard.

  “When Carrie said I might have hidden it, I thought that’s what she’d done,” Hayley says, confirming what I’m thinking. “She tricked me into feeling safe about dumping out my bag.”

  She sits back on the edge of the bed. She’s composed again, but still looking sad. “I don’t know if the others will believe the truth,” she says. “Either way, our group is ruined.”

  She’s right. I feel sick, wondering what will happen next. Mostly, though, I’m puzzled.

  “There’s one thing I can’t seem to figure out,” I admit.

  “What’s that?”

  “Why? Why did Carrie do any of this?”

  “Oh, I think I know exactly why she did it,” Hayley says.

  CHAPTER

  TEN

  “Carrie has been uneasy around me for a while,” Hayley says. She’s speaking slowly and her voice is subdued. “I’ve felt her watching me, wondering what to do about the threat I pose to her.”

  “Threat?” I repeat. “What do you mean?”

  “I think Carrie was worried about something she said to me a year ago.” Hayley pauses. I can see that she’s struggling with what to say next. I wait silently.

  “Remember the boarder my grandparents had for a while?” she says.

  “The guy with the really bushy eyebrows?” I ask.

  “That’s the one. Anyway, he gave me the creeps. Something about him just bothered me.”

  I nod, thinking back. Hayley had told us this guy’s presence made her really uncomfortable when he’d rented a room at her grandparents’ house. I’d only met him a couple of times, but I could totally see what she meant. He had a way of coming into a room that reminded me of a snake slithering around. His eyes were small and dark and when he pointed them at you, you could almost feel how cold they were. The worst thing, though, was his mouth. He had the thinnest lips I’ve ever seen, and they looked as if they were always just about to sneer.

  “He didn’t stay all that long, did he?” I ask.

  “Four months,” she answers. “It seemed a lot longer than that, believe me. I spent as much time in my room as I could, just to avoid him. I was so glad when he got his own apartment and moved out.”

  She pauses to offer a slightly embarrassed smile. “Looking back, I feel silly about it. I mean, he was never mean or rude or anything to me. There was no reason for me to feel the way I did.”

  “He looked pretty creepy,” I remind her.

  “I guess that was the whole thing. And the poor guy couldn’t help the way he looked.”

  “My mom always says you should never judge a person by appearance. Even a serial killer can look like someone you would totally trust.”

  “True,” Hayley says.

  There is silence then, for a moment or two. A shadow seems to pass over Hayley’s face. I can see that she wants to speak, but she hesitates.

  “So … you were going to tell me something about the things that have been happening?” I ask.

  “You mean the things Carrie has been doing,” Hayley says evenly.

  “Right,” I say. Everything we’ve already talked about has left me feeling like a traitor. I wonder if Hayley can sense that.

  “I know she’s your best friend, Shana. How do I know I can really trust you?”

  “Because I’m here,” I tell her. “Because I could have just ignored the things that were bothering me. But I didn’t.”

  “There’s more to this than just Carrie, though,” she answers. “And I’m not quite sure whose side you’re going to be on when you hear the whole thing.”

  “Well, I can’t make you trust me,” I say. I’m getting impatient and just a little angry that she’s hedging. I’ve already taken her side against my best friend. You’d think that would be enough for her to be sure of me.

  Hayley draws in a deep breath. Her cheeks bulge as she lets it out slowly. Then she shrugs and says, “I guess I have no choice. And really, what else do I have to lose?”

  She picks up a throw pillow and hugs it to her stomach, like she needs something for comfort, or support. And then she tells me the whole story.

  “It was last year, when the boarder we were just talking about was here. I guess he’d been living at the house for a couple of months by then. So, this one afternoon, Carrie came by to pick up some DVDs she was borrowing from me, and he was kicking around the house. He wasn’t bothering us or anything, but I noticed her glancing at him. Later on, when he wasn’t around anymore, she mentioned him. I told her how creepy I found him.”

  Hayley gets up and goes to her window. She stands there, looking out, her back to me. I want to tell her to hurry up and finish the story. I can’t see how it could have anything to do with what Carrie has been doing. That makes me curious about what the connection could possibly be.

  “I told Carrie that I wished my grandparents would get rid of him,” Hayley continues after a moment. “But I’d already told them I didn’t like him, and they just said I was being silly. That’s when Carrie said if I really hated having him there, she knew how I could get rid of him.”

  Hayley turns from the window and looks me straight in the eye. “She told me it would be easy. All I had to do was say he molested me and that would be the end of him.”

  My heart begins to pound hard in my chest. I feel like I can’t quite breathe. Suddenly, I can’t look at her. I know she’s aware of my reaction, but she doesn’t comment on it.

  “So my theory,” she continues, “is that she’s worried I think that’s what she did with her stepfather. It was no secret that she didn’t want him around.”

  “Carrie wouldn’t do that,” I insist. My voice sounds strange.

  “Well, even if she would do it,” Hayley says, “I guess that’s not what happened. After all, she had a witness, didn’t she? You saw him touch her.”

  CHAPTER

  ELEVEN

  I can’t answer. There are so many thoughts rushing through my head that it’s impossible to sort them out. I nee
d time to think.

  “That’s what you testified to, isn’t it?” Hayley asks after a bit. “That you saw Joe Kelward touch Carrie?”

  “Yes,” I say.

  “So it’s like this,” Hayley says. “I don’t trust Carrie. At all. I’ve seen her set people up too many times over the years. And you know what I’m talking about. The little whispering campaigns. The lies and twisted stories. She manipulates people into doing her dirty work all the time.”

  I hate to admit how much truth there is in what she’s saying. But when you’re friends with someone, you let stuff like that slide. Sometimes you even buy into it a little.

  “But when I heard that you were going to testify, that was different,” Hayley tells me. “Unless, of course, she talked you into it somehow.”

  Her words hang there between us. I know she’s waiting, giving me a chance to deny it. It would be so easy. All I have to do is open my mouth and tell her that didn’t happen. But I can’t. There have been enough lies.

  On the other hand, it’s not that easy to admit the truth, either. I know I’m not going to get away with saying nothing. After everything that’s just happened, Hayley deserves an answer. More than that, she deserves the truth.

  “She asked me to help her,” I say. It sounds lame.

  “To help her by lying in court ... under oath,” Hayley says.

  “Yes.” It’s a bit of a relief to admit it. To get it out. I hadn’t realized, until this moment, how much it was bothering me.

  “That man went to prison,” Hayley says, like I need someone to tell me.

  “I know that,” I answer. “But maybe he really did do something to her.”

  “Right.”

  “It’s possible,” I insist. “You didn’t see her when she told me about it. She was a mess — crying and shaking and scared.”

  “I just bet,” Hayley says.

  “But really, Hayley. You didn’t see her that day. She was seriously upset.”

  “Oh, I’ve seen Carrie upset lots of times,” Hayley says with a sharp laugh. “Like the time she got caught dumping garbage on her neighbours’ lawn. Remember how she went on, telling them how sorry she was and begging them not to call the cops. And then when they let her off she laughed behind their backs and called them suckers.”

  I remember it all right. Hayley and Jen and I had been at Carrie’s place when the couple who live two houses away from her came knocking on the door. They accused her of throwing trash in their yard. Carrie denied knowing anything about it until they produced some mail that had been in among the garbage. It was addressed to her parents, so they had her solid. I forget exactly why she did it. She takes things the wrong way sometimes, so it probably wasn’t over much.

  Hayley’s right. Carrie had put on quite a show of how sorry she was when the neighbours showed up. And it really had been nothing but an act. But I can’t believe she was acting when she told me about her stepfather.

  “I know what you’re saying,” I tell Hayley. “But you weren’t there. You didn’t see the tears or hear the way she was sobbing.”

  Hayley throws her hands up and shrugs. “You just believe whatever you need to,” she says. “But remember that if you’re wrong, the man you helped put in prison might be innocent.”

  I feel like I’ve been punched hard in the stomach. There is silence in the room for a few moments. I try to convince myself that there’s no way Carrie would do anything that horrible. This isn’t some prank, some slightly destructive bit of revenge. It’s a man’s life — his honour and his freedom. It’s unthinkable that my best friend could do something that evil.

  “I don’t know what to do,” I finally confess.

  Hayley crosses to me and slings an arm around my shoulder. “You have to find out the truth,” she says.

  “How? There are only two people in the world who really know what the truth is. One of them is locked up. So, what do I do, just go and ask Carrie? Like she would ever admit it if she’s been lying the whole time.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think it would be very smart to say anything to Carrie,” Hayley says. “If she even suspects that you doubt her, watch out.”

  I want to say that Carrie is my best friend, that she would never do anything to hurt me. But I can’t.

  “So, what do I do?” I ask. “There’s no way I can find out the truth.”

  “Maybe not about that,” Hayley admits. “But there are other things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like the stolen jewellery. I know I didn’t take it, but stuff did go missing.”

  “So, you think Carrie has it?” I ask.

  “Yes, I do. Either that or she got rid of it. I already wondered if she might have planted stuff here, but I looked everywhere I could think of and there was nothing.”

  “I don’t think she’d get rid of anything,” I say. “She’d be more likely to show up with it one day and claim she forced you to give it back.”

  Hayley doesn’t look convinced. “You know what? I bet she plans to keep it. Think about what she took. We know about Lori’s ring — the one her dad gave her. And even though she was setting me up, she took that brooch your great-grandmother left you. It looks like there might be a pattern there — that she’s taking things that have sentimental value.”

  “So that makes you think she’s more likely to keep the stuff?” I ask.

  “Absolutely. I bet it makes her feel powerful to own things that other people value that way — things they can’t replace.”

  “That’s horrible,” I say.

  “Carrie is horrible,” Hayley snaps. “A lot of things about her have bothered me for a while now, especially in the past year or so. Mean things she did, and sneaky. But I never wanted to say anything. I figured, let it go — why cause trouble in our group?”

  I guess there have been a few times I’ve been bothered by something Carrie has done, too, but I’m still not quite ready to believe the worst of her. There have, after all, been a lot of good things, as well. It’s hard for me to think so badly of someone who’s been my best friend for so long.

  CHAPTER

  TWELVE

  In the end, Hayley and I come up with a general kind of plan. First of all, we agree that alerting Carrie to my suspicions would be the dumbest thing I could do. Besides, if it turns out this is all just a crazy theory that turns out to be wrong, then I won’t have ruined my friendship with her for nothing.

  I will act like everything is perfectly normal. I’ll hang out with Carrie and the others as usual and I won’t have anything to do with Hayley when there’s anyone else around. I need to get into Carrie’s house and look for chances to find the missing jewellery. If I find it, I’ll tell the others and confront her with the evidence.

  That still doesn’t answer the questions running through my head about Joe Kelward. I know I’m going to need to face that soon, but it’s not exactly something I’m looking forward to.

  I feel awkward the next day at school, but no one seems to notice anything is wrong. I relax after a couple of minutes and manage to pay attention to the conversation.

  Jen is talking about a tattoo. Nothing new there. About once a month she announces that she’s found The One, the tattoo she’s going to get as soon as she turns eighteen. Her folks won’t give her permission to get one before then. That’s probably a good thing, considering how often she changes her mind.

  Today’s choice is a tiny pink dragon. Jen is undecided if she’s going to get it on her ankle or her shoulder. None of us comment on that. We all know she has three years to change her mind. We also know the dragon will probably be forgotten before she turns sixteen, never mind eighteen.

  The talk shifts to last night’s TV shows, then moves through a string of topics that slip by before I’ve fully focused on them. It’s all so normal. I begin
to relax.

  Carrie is seated across from me, paying less attention to the talk than to the chicken Caesar salad she’s having for lunch. When she happens to glance up and sees me watching her, she just smiles — an everyday smile you’d give a friend — and goes back to her lunch.

  And the day passes.

  I see Hayley a couple of times as we pass each other in the halls on the way to our different classes. We ignore each other completely, as we’ve agreed to do. It’s essential that Carrie believes she’s been successful in cutting off all contact between Hayley and the rest of us.

  It’s a relief to hear the final bell ring. I’d never realized just how hard it is to put on an act all day, or to walk around carrying a secret this heavy. It would be nice to go home and relax for the evening, but the sooner I can look for the missing jewellery at Carrie’s place, the better. So, I catch her on the way out of the school and suggest we hang out this evening.

  “Yeah, sure,” she says. “Perfect, in fact. Mom just texted me that she’s working late again.”

  “You want to come to my place to eat first?” I ask.

  “Maybe. What’s your mom making?”

  I make a quick call home, ask Mom, and then report that it’s tuna casserole.

  Carrie wrinkles her nose and says “No, thanks.”

  “Then, I’ll see you later,” I tell her. I’m relieved that she’s not coming. My parents like all of my friends, but since the whole business with Carrie’s stepfather they’ve been extra nice to her. The thought of them being all sympathetic and caring toward her after what I’ve just learned makes me sick.

  It’s just after seven when I get to her place. The side door is unlocked and when I knock I hear a yell. I take it as permission to go in. Noise from the front room draws me there, where I find Carrie sprawled across the couch watching television. Some reality show.

  “Hey, Shana,” she says with a half wave. She’s clearly less interested in my arrival than in what she’s watching.