Guess Who

by Chris McGeorge

  He opened his eyes. His father’s face—very close. His father pulled him into a hug and he started crying more.

  “I was outside waiting for you in the car. I saw the police cars. I’m so sorry.”

  His father hugged him for a long time, gripping him so tight that he found it hard to breathe. But at that moment, that was exactly what he needed. He felt safe there, he felt calm. He felt like a child being comforted by his father. But somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that the child in him had died along with Mr. Jefferies. The child in him was hanging there in the Maths room with his teacher.

  His father pulled away and looked him in the eye. “Talk to me, son. Are you okay?”

  In his father’s bright eyes, shadows glinting—the image of his teacher hanging from the ceiling. Would he see that everywhere now—forever and no time at all?

  “Say something.” His father looked worried. “Please say something, Eren.”

  41

  1992

  The next few days passed in something of a fog. Before he went home that day, Eren had to talk to the police for what seemed like hours, although it was probably more like minutes. Time was not working like it usually did. His father held his hand in a tight grip throughout as he told of finding Mr. Jefferies’s body. He left the details as fuzzy as the police allowed. He didn’t want to think about it. And he could already feel his mind closing around the memory, like a chrysalis, protecting him from the horrors inside.

  In the following days, the information started to come out. George Jefferies was dead. He hanged himself with his belt in the Maths room. Police said that Mr. Jefferies’s mother had said her son had been unhappy for a long time. Eren had never even thought that Mr. Jefferies would have parents. They said that he had money troubles and he was very lonely.

  The police visited Eren and told him this. They said that his teacher had taken his own life, not thinking that a student would find him. They said they were very sorry. Everyone apologized. “We’re sorry this happened to you.”

  “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  “The school is sorry for everything and understands if you need some time to collect your thoughts.” He didn’t understand why everyone was sorry. They hadn’t done anything. When he told his father this, his father said that people just apologized when they didn’t really know what to say, which was ironic as he was the one who said sorry the most.

  He wasn’t allowed to go to school for the next week and his TV privileges were gone. His father didn’t want him seeing anything on the news. Eren learned from friends that it never reached the news though. It wasn’t interesting enough. Mr. Jefferies, his kind, fun Maths teacher killed himself and the world didn’t care.

  His world had grown quieter. He no longer heard the birds in the trees or the traffic outside. He only heard silence. Colors were not as bright as they once were. His world was no longer exciting, no longer hopeful. Why bother with hope when one can just die, anytime or anywhere. He slept a lot. His father rang a psychologist—not telling him, but he snuck out of his room and listened on the stairs. Food didn’t seem to be edible anymore.

  On the Wednesday after the incident, he heard a knock at his bedroom door. He didn’t answer, he just looked at his clock. It was 4:00 p.m.—when did it get to be 4:00 p.m.?

  The door opened and his father stuck his head around the door.

  “Eren, there’s someone here to see you.” Eren just turned his back. “I don’t care.”

  His father ignored him. “It’s your friend. Here he is.” And Eren turned around to see Morgan standing there.

  Morgan Sheppard with a big smile on his face. Morgan could usually cheer him up, but today Eren could see that he was forcing that smile.

  “I’ll leave you two to it.” The door shut.

  Morgan dumped his backpack in the center of the floor and school textbooks spilled out. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine,” Eren said, never feeling further from fine. “You’re the talk of the school,” Morgan said. “Are all the rumors true? You found Mr. Jefferies in the Maths room?”

  “Yes,” Eren said, the image flashing through his mind quickly. “I found him.”

  “We’ve got a substitute for Maths. She’s a real hard-ass. I also don’t think she can count. And we have to have our lessons in the library which is annoying. No one’s allowed in that room.”

  “Hmm,” Eren said, not really listening.

  “Sadie said that room’s haunted now. She said that’s why we can’t go in,” Morgan said, picking up one of Eren’s action figures and sitting down at the edge of the bed. “She said that Eric said that Michael’s sister saw Mr. Jefferies in the window last night. But I think she’s lying just to get attention because...”

  “Because he’s dead,” Eren said, sitting up.

  Morgan fiddled with the action figure’s arm, making it wave at Eren. “Yeah,” he said, in a small voice.

  “Do you...?” Eren started, sliding his bum to the edge of the bed so he was sat next to Morgan. “Why do you think he did it?”

  Morgan was silent.

  “What can be so bad that someone kills themselves?”

  “Maybe he did something wrong,” Morgan said, handing Eren the action figure. It was a knockoff superhero toy, a generic man in a cape with a big toothy grin and strong muscles.

  “Everyone does wrong things—we don’t all kill ourselves.”

  “Maybe he was just too sad.”

  Eren thought about this, but it didn’t make any sense. Mr. Jefferies was always so happy. He was always smiling and joking with them. There was never a hint of sadness there. Maybe he was just good at hiding it.

  “I’ll miss him,” Morgan said. “We all will. He was nice.”

  “Yes.”

  “And funny.”

  “Yes.”

  Morgan was quiet for a moment and then chuckled. “You remember the time he let us watch movies instead of do work...”

  Eren’s eyes were on the action figure. There was something at the back of his mind. Something gnawing at him. And it was only getting stronger when he looked at this stupid toy. But he had no idea what it was.

  “...or when he told jokes all lesson. Even that dirty one, ha-ha.”

  Eren’s eyes went down the action figure to the superhero’s utility belt. Something...

  “You remember when he lost all that weight a month ago? And he kept having to pull his trousers up all the time. He was a good teacher.” Morgan looked at Eren and nudged him on the shoulder. “You want to play some SNES? It’ll take your mind off it.”

  Eren looked up at Morgan, his eyes wide. “Say that again?”

  Morgan smiled. “SNES. I’ve got really good at World 2.” Morgan looked around. “Where’d your TV go?”

  “No, no,” Eren said, “say what you said before that.”

  Morgan looked confused. “What? About Mr. Jefferies? His trousers falling down. Surely you remember all that. He even made a joke of it.”

  Eren looked at Morgan, holding up the action figure. Morgan looked confused. “I remember,” Eren said. “I didn’t, but now I remember. I remember perfectly.”

  “What’s wrong, Eren? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Eren jumped off the bed.

  “Okay,” Morgan said, “poor choice of words.”

  “I’m going to need your help, Morgan,” Eren said, picking up the other boy’s backpack and throwing it at him.

  Morgan caught it. “What are you doing?”

  “I need to get back to school,” Eren said, looking at Morgan. Somewhere in his mind, a spark lit. Memories of Mr. Jefferies came flooding back. He was happy. He was kind. He wasn’t sad or miserable. He would never do what he did.

  Colors and sounds flooded back into his world again. And also, in the darkest moment, a little bit of hope.
Hope that his world was not entirely wrong.

  Eren slung his backpack over his shoulder and turned back to Morgan, still looking bewildered on the bed. “Mr. Jefferies didn’t kill himself. Someone murdered him.”

  Eren threw the action figure to the ground.

  * * *

  It took Morgan a few minutes to catch up with him, although he was on his bike and Eren was only walking. Eren didn’t really know where he was going—he was walking toward school taking the back alleyways he knew so well.

  Morgan rode up alongside him. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m not sure,” Eren said truthfully.

  “Why did you say Mr. Jefferies was murdered?”

  “Because he was.”

  “He killed himself, Eren.” Morgan was half riding the bike and half walking to keep pace with him. They emerged from the alleyways onto a big football field.

  “He didn’t. He didn’t kill himself. He wouldn’t do that.”

  “Eren, you’re freaking me out.”

  Eren stopped abruptly. Morgan hit the brakes and almost fell as the bike went crashing to the ground.

  “The belt. He hanged himself with a belt. I saw it. But Mr. Jefferies didn’t have a belt.”

  “Yes he did.”

  “No, he didn’t because of his trousers.”

  Morgan’s face showed a flash of understanding. The same understanding that was fueling Eren now. “But that was weeks ago. He could’ve got a belt since then. Was he wearing a belt that day?”

  Eren tried to think. He couldn’t remember. It was a detail that you wouldn’t actively forget but also one you wouldn’t think to keep. It was a detail that could slip through the cracks. Eren wondered if adults could make the same mistake. If it could slip through the cracks of an investigation.

  “I can’t remember if he was,” Eren said, and Morgan was looking similarly perplexed, “but that doesn’t matter because I know Mr. Jefferies didn’t do it.”

  “How?” Morgan said.

  Eren thought for a moment. That was a good question. But he had a strong feeling that Mr. Jefferies really didn’t do it. He knew there was something else. Some clue that he was missing. Something had happened that was out of place. But he couldn’t put his finger on it.

  “We have to find out who killed Mr. Jefferies.”

  Morgan scratched his forehead. “Eren, I can’t even reach high shelves. I’m pretty sure I can’t solve a murder.”

  “We owe it to him.”

  “I dunno. Maybe if you really think something’s up, we should go to the police.”

  Eren put a hand on Morgan’s shoulder. Morgan looked at it ominously. “You’re always talking about how you want to be famous. Cricket, video games, acting—what if those things don’t matter. What if you’re going to be famous for this instead? What if we actually do solve a murder?”

  A moment was all it took and Morgan’s eyes lit up with possibilities. The boy was easy to talk around. Ever since Eren had known him, Morgan had had a desire to be known for something. Quite what it was, it didn’t seem to matter. Morgan just wanted to be someone. “Okay,” the boy said, “but are you sure? What if we find out that Jefferies did really kill himself?”

  Eren started walking again. “He didn’t.” There was no way. Because that would mean that the world wasn’t what he thought it was. That would mean everything would be different. He couldn’t have killed himself. Or more accurately, he mustn’t have. And as Eren stomped across the field, it became apparent that a little boy’s psyche depended on it.

  * * *

  Eren and Morgan walked around in circles for the rest of the evening. The school was shut—locked up. There wasn’t really anywhere else to go. They walked in silence, Morgan peddling his bike alongside him. They returned to Eren’s house around six o’clock and Eren’s dad ordered pizza. They ate and played SNES until it was time for Morgan to go home. Neither of them mentioned Mr. Jefferies.

  For the next few days, nothing much happened. Eren returned to school and was harassed by other kids wanting to hear all the gory details. The teachers tried their best to stop this, but Eren still found himself repeating the same brief story over and over—they seemed to be content with that. Soon it was old news.

  But it wasn’t old news for Eren—far from it. The death of Mr. Jefferies weighed on him even more than it had on the fateful day. More than ever, a single thought burned at the back of his mind—he didn’t do it—and he still felt that niggling feeling that there was something obvious he was missing.

  Nearly a week later, Eren and Morgan were in the park after school. It was the first time the two of them had been alone since Eren had made his assumption. Morgan was tightrope-walking on a small, short brick wall that belonged to a house that had been knocked down on the edge of the park. Eren was sitting on the grass, picking at the blades.

  “You want to go to the cinema?” Morgan asked, putting his hands out to steady himself as he walked along the wall. “My cousin got a new job there. If I ask him really nicely, he might get us in to see Reservoir Dogs. Someone’s ear gets cut off and you see everything.”

  Eren ignored him. He kept on picking at the grass. He was thinking about that day again. He was always thinking about it. There was something to be found there, in his memory.

  “Eren. Eren. Eren. Eren. Eren,” Morgan continued. “Eren. Eren. Eren.”

  “What?” Eren said, annoyed.

  Morgan smiled. “What’s wrong with you? You’re superquiet.”

  “I’m just thinking. Thinking about when I found Mr. Jefferies.”

  Morgan jumped off the wall and slumped down on the grass splaying his arms out dramatically. “You’re still talking about that? That was like—” Eren could almost see the gears whirring around in his little friend’s head “—that was like two weeks ago.”

  Two weeks felt like a lifetime and Eren’s memory was starting to fade. The chrysalis around the memory was destroyed. He didn’t want to forget. Because he knew that was where the answer lay. It was the strongest feeling he’d ever had.

  “I’m trying to remember,” Eren said, pulling up a fresh clump of grass, “but it’s hard.”

  “Why don’t you say it out loud?” Morgan said, “Maybe that’d help.”

  Morgan was usually a rather simple boy but even Eren couldn’t deny that this made a lot of sense.

  “Okay,” Eren said and for some reason, he stood up in front of Morgan, almost as if he was about to perform a play.

  “So start at the beginning,” Morgan said, “unless you’re sure we can’t just try and go see Reservoir Dogs.”

  “Morgan, focus.”

  “But the ear, dude. The ear.”

  Eren ignored him. “Okay, it started about halfway home. I looked in my bag trying to find the sweets we’d bought at the shop, and I knew I’d left my notebook behind. Me and Benny Masterson were playing tic-tac-toe with it in Maths, and I just knew that I didn’t put it back in my bag. I don’t know why. I just could see it lying there on the table. I don’t know how but I always do it. I always manage to leave it somewhere.”

  “Like that time you left it at the aquarium,” Morgan said, laughing.

  “Yeah, I guess,” Eren said, dismissing Morgan so he could continue. “So I doubled back, and went back to school. It was quiet. Quieter than I’d ever seen it really, even at parent’s evening. There was no one there apart from this caretaker guy I didn’t know. He was using that thing that shines the floor. Mr. Jefferies’s room was open. And I went in.

  “And there he was. Then I shouted—” Eren somehow didn’t want to admit he screamed and cried, at least not to Morgan “—and Miss Rain came and other teachers too, although my eyes were closed so I don’t know who. We went to the staff room, and then my dad was there. And then I had to talk to the police for ages.”

  “Hm
m,” Morgan said, scratching his chin, most likely to look intelligent.

  “Yes?”

  “I think maybe you need to take your mind off this,” Morgan concluded.

  “I don’t need to do anything. Apart from find out who killed Mr. Jefferies,” Eren shouted. It was so loud that a few boys playing football across the field looked over in their direction. Morgan shuffled around so he blocked Eren from view.

  “Eren, dude, calm down. Maybe you just need some more time. Mr. Jefferies killed himself. And it was really sad. And we’ll all miss him. And it was really messed up that you found him. But he did kill himself. And going around saying that he was killed maybe isn’t the best thing.”

  “You still don’t believe me?” Eren said, trying not to cry.

  “I believe that you’ve seen something messed up. And maybe you need to take your mind off it. By seeing something equally messed up. Like an ear severed from a man’s head. Where you see everything.”

  “Morgan, I’m not going to the cinema,” Eren said defiantly, shuffling away from him. It wasn’t fair. If he couldn’t persuade his best friend that Mr. Jefferies was killed, then what hope did he have of convincing anyone else? “Do you not want to know what happened? Do you not feel it?”

  “Feel what?” Morgan said.

  “He didn’t do this. He couldn’t have.”

  “I dunno, I guess it’s possible. But the police can’t be wrong. They’re never wrong. That’s what my mum said.”

  “But what if they are? What if there’s a killer out there free right now? And I know there’s something I’m missing.” Eren threw up his hands in disgust, soil and grass going everywhere.

  “Maybe you need one of those cleaning machines for your mind. You know like that caretaker was using. You need to wash the memories away.”

  “That’s dumb—” and Eren trailed off. That was it. That was what he was missing. He looked at Morgan intently.

  “What?” the other boy said.