Slam Book

by Ann M. Martin

  “Jess,” said Anna later that night as they were ready to turn out the light. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

  The following evening, Anna called Gooz. It was eight-thirty. Jessie was doing her homework in the kitchen. Anna’s parents had gone to a movie.

  Gooz answered the phone himself, obviously not expecting to hear from her.

  “Hi, Gooz,” said Anna in a small voice. “It’s me, Anna.”

  There was silence on Gooz’s end of the phone.

  “Gooz?”

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “I think we need to talk.”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  “I’ve put the slam book away, Gooz. It’s hidden. I won’t bring it to school again.”

  “Why didn’t you throw it away?” asked Gooz accusingly.

  “I—I don’t know,” Anna replied. “But it won’t be back in school. I promise.”

  “Anna, I want you to know”—Gooz paused to take a breath—“that I’m not mad at you. I just felt we needed some time apart to think things over.”

  “Okay,” said Anna, “but I just want you to know that everything I said about Paige was true. She did all those things. She even caused the problems between you and Casey.”

  “Well, not really. Like I told you, we were already having problems. The slam book just started the fight that brought them out in the open.”

  “Then why were you so upset with me?”

  “Why? For two reasons,” answered Gooz, “which I thought were plain to see. First of all, the Anna Wallace I saw shouting in the cafeteria that day was not the Anna Wallace I knew. You said some pretty rotten things.”

  “Paige did some pretty rotten things,” Anna interrupted.

  “And you put your friends on the spot, especially Randy, and you embarrassed me. How do you think it looked for everyone to see that you, of all people, knew that Paige made up that comment in order to break Casey and me up?”

  “Not great,” Anna mumbled.

  “My friends were saying that you let Paige write that just so we could start going out.”

  “That’s not true!” cried Anna. “Paige was the one who wanted to go out with you.”

  “I’m just telling you what they were saying,” said Gooz.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Then, of course, I had to apologize to Casey, which was the last thing I wanted to do,” Gooz went on.

  “You talked to her?” asked Anna carefully, hoping to hear more.

  “Yes. I had to. Thanks to you, Casey and I and the whole world all found out what happened. I couldn’t just let it go by. I had to talk to her.”

  “What did she say?”

  “Not much. But I think she was glad I apologized.”

  “Gooz, I really am sorry about the scene in the cafeteria. I didn’t want it to get so out of hand. I just wanted to teach Paige a lesson. She’s been doing horrible things.”

  “Maybe it’s not your place to teach people lessons,” Gooz said quietly.

  “Paige used to be my friend,” Anna replied. “As a friend, I thought I owed it to her to—”

  “Humiliate her? Embarrass your other friends?”

  “Okay, okay, I handled it badly. I already said I was sorry.”

  “I know you did. I’m sorry, too. I guess I’m overreacting because of all the flak I’ve been getting about us.”

  “Maybe we could try to start over again,” suggested Anna cautiously. “After all, we have a project to finish.”

  “Do you want to sneak off campus and have lunch at the diner tomorrow?” Gooz asked. Anna could almost hear him smiling.

  “I’d love to,” she said.

  “Great. I’ll meet you at your locker at the beginning of lunch period.”

  “Okay! I’ll see you then!”

  When Anna hung up the phone, she found that her hands were shaking. But she ignored them and ran to the top of the stairs. “Hey, Jessie! Come here!” she cried. “Excellent news!”

  Anna dashed to her locker the next day as soon as she could escape from her classroom. She stuck her books inside and pulled her jacket out. Then she waited for Gooz, all the while afraid that he wouldn’t show up.

  But he did.

  He was holding a daisy in front of him, and he offered it to Anna. “I stole it,” he confided. “From the horticulture lab.”

  Anna stuck it through a buttonhole on her coat, Gooz took her elbow, and they walked down the hall and out of school.

  Petrinferno’s Diner wasn’t far from CHS, and soon Anna and Gooz were seated in a booth near the back. They ordered their lunches without looking at the menu. Then they sat in uncomfortable silence.

  “I have this crazy urge to blow my straw paper at you,” said Anna, just to break the silence.

  “I’ll blow mine if you’ll blow yours,” replied Gooz.

  Anna giggled. They shot their papers at each other.

  “Boy, is it ever good to be eating lunch with you again,” said Anna. “I’ve really missed you these last few days.”

  “Me, too,” said Gooz. “I was upset at first, but I still missed you.”

  Anna nodded.

  “You looked so awful on the day we heard about Cheryl,” Gooz went on. “The day of her funeral, too. I wanted to say something to you, but I couldn’t.”

  “That whole thing took me sort of, um, by surprise,” said Anna. “It was scary.”

  “Very,” agreed Gooz. “My father was telling me how many kids commit suicide each year. It’s practically an epidemic.”

  Anna didn’t know whether to feel better or worse. So Cheryl was just one of thousands. But would she have killed herself if Anna hadn’t sent her to Paige’s?

  Suddenly Anna felt tears in her eyes.

  Gooz noticed immediately. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked.

  Anna shook her head and dabbed at her eyes with a napkin.

  “Cheryl?” asked Gooz, frowning.

  Once again, Anna was tempted to pour out the whole messy story. But she didn’t dare. “No,” she lied. “I’m just so happy to be sitting here with you.”

  Gooz smiled. “I honestly didn’t know I meant so much to you. No offense, Anna, but sometimes you’re hard to figure out.”

  “Well, I missed you.”

  The waitress brought their hamburgers. Anna found that she had lost her appetite, but she managed to force down about half of her meal.

  Gooz looked at her questioningly. “I don’t think I have a very good effect on you,” he said.

  “It’s not you,” Anna told him. “Really.”

  Her happy mood had been broken. Anna found that she could think of no one but Cheryl.

  Chapter Twenty

  “OH MY GOD! YOU got it already!” exclaimed Anna.

  “I don’t believe it!” said Jessie. “When did you get it? How did you get it?”

  Randy grinned. “Just this afternoon,” she replied. “And I only had to wait on line an hour.”

  “An hour. That’s not too bad,” said Jessie.

  It was a Friday afternoon. Anna and Jessie had been summoned to the Taylors’ house moments earlier by a gleeful call from Randy. Their favorite group, PT and the Uptown Boys, had just issued a five-record album. It came in a handsome box, was expensive, and was very much in demand. Anna had heard of people waiting in lines for six hours or lining up at a store before it had opened, even before the sun had risen. And now here was Randy with the real thing, and on a Friday afternoon, too. A weekend of music stretched ahead of them.

  “If you don’t mind my saying so,” Anna said, “this isn’t really like you, Randy. I mean, I’m thrilled that you got the album, but …”

  “I make exceptions for PT,” Randy replied, shrugging.

  “Well, let’s look at it,” said Jessie excitedly.

  The girls sat on the floor and bent over the album. Randy had somehow managed to wait until her friends came over before she lifted the cover. She raised it—and the phone rang.

/>   “Darn,” said Randy. “I better answer it. Tanya’s not here, and Mama’s in the middle of something downstairs.”

  “No, I’ll get it,” said Anna. “Randy, you go ahead and open the box. You deserve to. But don’t play anything without me!”

  “Thanks, Anna,” said Randy.

  Anna dashed into the hall and picked up the phone. “Hello, Taylors’ residence,” she said.

  “Ish Anna there?” asked a slurred voice.

  “Anna? This is Anna … Paige, is that you?” Anna could barely hear above the sounds of Jessie and Randy gasping and squealing over the album.

  “Ish—ish Anna there?” The voice sounded confused.

  “Paige?” Anna said again, an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach. “What’s going on?” Anna turned toward Randy’s room. “Hey, you guys,” she whispered. “Come here.”

  Jessie and Randy got to their feet and stood in the doorway to Randy’s room, leaning against the doorjamb and looking curiously at Anna.

  “Hello?” said Anna. “Paige?”

  “Anna? Ish that—that you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Boy, are you hard to track down … hard to … hard to find. I called your housh”—Paige paused—“and Jeshica’sh housh. Who’sh housh ish thish? Randy’sh?”

  “That’s right,” said Anna. “Listen, are you okay? You sound funny.”

  “Funny!” Paige cried. She started to laugh, but it was a low, moaning laugh, completely unlike her, although it did remind Anna of something … or someone.

  Anna racked her brain. Mrs. Beaulac. That’s who Paige sounded like. “Paige?” said Anna. “Are you drunk?”

  There was a long pause. “Huh?” asked Paige sleepily.

  “Have you been drinking?” Anna asked again.

  “Coursh,” Paige managed to say.

  “Why—why are you calling me?” Anna stammered. She put her hand over the mouthpiece and said nervously, “Paige has been drinking. I don’t know what’s going on.”

  “I want,” Paige said, “… want to tell you about the … the crocktail I made. I mean, the cocktail … It was a V and V … vodka … and Valium.”

  “Valium!” screeched Anna. “How much?”

  “My God,” said Randy softly.

  “Oh, about … about half a …”

  “Half a what?”

  “Half a … bottle.”

  Again Anna put her hand over the receiver. “She drank vodka and took half a bottle of Valium!”

  “Find out where she is,” said Randy.

  “Paige, where are you?” asked Anna, trying to sound calm. “Are you at home?”

  “Shnug ash a rug in a bug … bug in a rug …”

  “Are you at home?” Anna repeated more slowly.

  “Home ish where the … where you …”

  Anna turned to Randy and Jessie again. “I think she’s at home, but she’s not really saying.”

  “Ask her once more,” suggested Jessie.

  “Paige,” Anna tried again, “where are you?”

  “Where am I?” Paige repeated. “I don’t know. Don’t even know who I am.” The slurred voice was becoming softer and more difficult to understand.

  “Look around. What do you see?” asked Anna.

  “I shee … white. And booksh. Shoft rug.”

  “Are you in your bedroom?”

  There was a long silence.

  “Paige? Are you in your bedroom?”

  Clunk.

  “Paige? Paige?” shrieked Anna. “Paige!”

  “What? What?” cried Jessie.

  “There was this thud,” said Anna, “and then nothing. But she didn’t hang up. The connection’s not broken. I think she dropped the receiver or something.”

  Randy grabbed the phone from Anna. “Paige!” she yelled. “Paige!”

  “What in heaven’s name is going on up here?”

  The girls turned to see Mrs. Taylor standing at the top of the stairs.

  “Mama!” Randy cried. “Paige called. She’s still sort of on the phone. She sounded awful, and she said she drank some vodka and took half a bottle of Valium. I think she passed out or something.”

  Randy’s mother took the phone. “Paige?” she said urgently.

  No answer.

  Mrs. Taylor hung up. “Do you know where she is?” she asked the girls.

  “We’re pretty sure she’s at home,” replied Randy. “But we’re not certain.”

  “All right. You call the paramedics and tell them to go to the Beaulacs’ immediately. I’m going to run next door and ask Mrs. Gregory to watch for Tanya. Then I’ll take you to Paige’s.”

  “Okay,” said Randy. “Okay.”

  Mrs. Taylor dashed downstairs. Anna and Jessie put their coats on while Randy made the call.

  “What did they say?” asked Jessie as they were piling into the car.

  Mrs. Taylor pulled into the street, tires squealing.

  “They’re probably already on the way,” replied Randy. “The guy who answered said they’d go out immediately.”

  “Is Savanna there today?” asked Mrs. Taylor.

  “She should be,” replied Randy.

  “Good. She can let the paramedics in if Mrs. Beaulac isn’t home. I probably should have called Savanna before we left.”

  “Well, we got the paramedics out there, anyway,” said Anna. “That’s the important thing.”

  The rest of the mad drive was spent in silence. When Mrs. Taylor turned into the circular drive in front of the Beaulac mansion, the girls saw that the paramedics were already there. The ambulance was parked in front of the house, and a stretcher was being lifted into it. Savanna stood just outside the door, wringing her hands.

  Mrs. Taylor drew to a stop and everyone piled out.

  “Savanna!” called Randy. “Paige phoned us. That’s how we knew.”

  “I can’t believe it,” exclaimed Savanna. “She came home from school this afternoon in a wonderful mood. I had no idea what she was doing.”

  “What did the paramedics say?” asked Mrs. Taylor.

  Savanna shook her head. “They’re not sure.”

  “Where’s Mrs. Beaulac?”

  “In California. Palm Springs.”

  “Why don’t you try to reach her?” suggested Mrs. Taylor. “The girls and I will go to the hospital to be with Paige.”

  Anna, Jessie, and Randy clambered back into the car, and Mrs. Taylor sped to the Calvin Medical Center, the sound of the ambulance siren preceding them all the way.

  The ambulance pulled into a side entrance and up to a parking area marked Emergency Parking: Authorized Vehicles Only. Mrs. Taylor had to park elsewhere. By the time they’d found the visitor’s lot, gotten their receipt, and dashed back to the emergency room, Paige was nowhere in sight.

  “Was Paige Beaulac brought in?” Mrs. Taylor asked the woman behind the desk in the waiting area. “A young girl? The ambulance just brought her.”

  “Oh, the overdose,” said the woman crisply.

  Anna sank into the nearest chair. “Oh, God. Oh, God.”

  “Where is she, please?” Randy’s mother asked.

  The woman nodded to the treatment cubicles beyond a set of swinging doors. “She’s being worked on.”

  “How many of us can be with her at once?”

  “Oh, I’m afraid you can’t go back there,” replied the woman. “Not while they’re treating her.”

  “Well, is she going to be all right?”

  “They won’t know for a while. Listen, do you know how I can reach her family?”

  “Her mother’s her only family in Calvin, but she’s in California right now. The housekeeper is trying to reach her.”

  The woman nodded. “Maybe you can answer some questions for me.”

  “Of course,” replied Mrs. Taylor, “but just a moment, please.” She turned to the girls, who were sitting stiffly in a row of chairs that were not only hooked together but bolted to the floor.

  “How is she?” cried
Anna, jumping to her feet.

  “They’re not sure yet.” Mrs. Taylor put her arm across Anna’s shoulders and guided her back into her seat. “They’re working on her now. We won’t be able to see her for a while. I’m going to phone Savanna and then try to answer a few questions for the nurse. Why don’t you get yourselves some sodas or something from the machine over there?”

  The girls didn’t feel like sodas. They sat in tense silence. After a moment, Anna called her mother to tell her what was happening. Jessie tried to reach her father but wasn’t able to.

  Randy’s mother phoned Savanna, then spoke to the nurse.

  Savanna and Dwight showed up and also talked to the nurse, then to Mrs. Taylor.

  After what seemed like forever, a young doctor came through the swinging doors. The nurse pointed him to Mrs. Taylor, Savanna, and Dwight. He approached them grimly. They conferred for several moments before Savanna followed him back through the doors.

  Anna, Jessie, and Randy got to their feet. “Mama?” asked Randy.

  “The doctor said she’s stable,” Mrs. Taylor told them. “She’s not out of the woods yet, but they’ve done all they can do for the time being, and they’re moving her to a room. Savanna spoke to Mrs. Beaulac, and she’s going to get the next plane back here.”

  Anna hadn’t heard most of what Randy’s mother had said. “She’s not out of the woods yet?” she repeated. “Oh, God, this is all my fault. It’s all my fault.” Anna began to sob loudly.

  Randy looked at her curiously. “All your fault?”

  “That’s what I said, dammit.” Anna’s voice was rising. “It’s my fault, it’s all my fault, it’s my fault, it’s all my fault!”

  “Anna,” said Mrs. Taylor sharply. She sat her down.

  Jessie sat next to Anna. She leaned over, put her head on her arms, and began to cry, too. “I can’t take this,” she wailed. “I really can’t.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  IT SEEMED LIKE THE longest night Anna could remember. Her parents picked her up and brought her home from the hospital, dropping Jessie off along the way. Then they took Anna to her room, told her to lie down, gave her a cup of tea, and asked what was going on.

  “It really is my fault,” she told them miserably.

  “What is?” asked Mrs. Wallace. “I don’t understand.”