The Unseemly Education of Anne Merchant

by Joanna Wiebe

  “Shh,” he whispers. “They’ll hear you.”

  I gasp to see him. Never has his skin appeared so translucent. Never have his eyes been so brilliant, so glassy, so bewildering. Pulsating behind him, the vast darkness of the cloaked moon and the endless tempests cling to his every limb like long, thick fingers seducing him back into another world. The world of the dead.

  I rise slowly, inch by inch, feeling a hot wave rush from my face to my toes and back up before he grins a grin that says yes-I’m-alive-and-as-deathly-gorgeous-as-ever.

  “Don’t be mad. Or scared,” he says slowly, extending his pale, long fingers before me like a Good Samaritan approaching a street dog.

  “I’m not.” But I am. My whole body quakes.

  “I need you to come with me. Come away from the house. Before Teddy senses you’re home.”

  “Senses?”

  “He’s connected with you. Happens with every Guardian. They latch onto part of your soul when they first read you, and they never let go.”

  Terrified, the best I can do is move from a slumped crouch to my feet. Still, I back away from him, watching him closely, not sure what I’m feeling, why I’m so frightened suddenly, but recognizing the sensations scurrying under my cold, wet flesh. The same sensations I felt back home when I would get up in the middle of the night for a glass of water, knowing ghosts lurked around every corner, watching me with their glassy stares, darting out of sight the instant I glimpsed their trailing white hems.

  “Anne…”

  Then he lunges at me. He tugs me out of view, away from his front-room window. Because I don’t want to be found out, I don’t scream. But my eyes are feral, my expression wild as he hauls me violently behind his house, behind Gigi’s, down to the water’s edge, down where rough waves crash fiercely and mix with pools of water running to the shore. The slick rocks under our feet cause us both to stumble, but he continues on until we arrive alongside the ocean. Surrounded on three sides by dense, tangled woods. Our shivering bodies protected from view. Our riotous voices muffled by the storm. Streams of icy water run down both our faces, soaking our clothes, making our teeth chatter, as he turns and faces me at last.

  “Let me get a few things out there now,” he says, standing no more than two inches from me, so close the toes of his shoe fit between the toes of mine. His warm hands brace my shoulders. He waits for me to agree, but I don’t have the capacity. “First thing, it’s over between me and Garnet. Over. Don’t look at me that way. It’s over.”

  “She doesn’t think it’s over.”

  “She came back from her new life for me.”

  “Her new life? We’re all dead!”

  “Don’t you know yet what the reward of the Big V is?”

  “It’s a second chance at life, I think.”

  He nods and waits for me to draw lines between the dots.

  “Are you trying to tell me Garnet was a student here, and she graduated as valedictorian?” As I shout over the rain, he confirms everything—even the guesses that I dream up on the fly as, one by one, murky clues turn into solid puzzle pieces that snap together. “She had a second chance to live a real life. Off this island. And she gave that up to come back here. For you.”

  “We dated when she was a Cania student, back when her name was Lizzy. The valedictorian changes their name when they start their new life. She graduated last June. She wasn’t gone longer than a few weeks before she asked Villicus if she could come back to Cania.”

  “As a teacher.”

  “Which requires that a person be in a certain state.”

  I’m not sure what he means, and it shows. “You’re not saying she’s not alive, are you? She died to be with you?”

  “It’s worse than that.” His face blanches. “Much worse.”

  twenty-one

  BEN ZIN

  THUNDERCLAPS STRIKE LIKE APPLAUSE ABOVE US.

  “Ben, what could Garnet have had to do to join the Cania faculty?”

  I think of Trey Sedmoney and old Weinchler. Putting Trey’s indiscretions aside, I can’t help but think that they seem like rather normal teachers. There’s nothing unusual about the faculty. The secretaries, on the other hand—they’re another breed of human entirely.

  “Let’s just say she gave up more than her life.”

  “Her family’s fortune? A private island?”

  “More.”

  Suddenly, two people walk through the trees behind us. Ben drags me to the wet forest floor as we wait for them to pass.

  Through the falling ice, loose branches, and moss, I can just make out Pilot and Harper. He’s still seeking comfort, and she’s still giving it to him, probably filling his head with all sorts of lies about me, turning my one friend even more against me.

  They recede into the darkness, leaving Ben and me alone, side by side, on the damp earth.

  “Anne, please know that Garnet isn’t the one for me, in spite of what she thinks and what she’s done. The only reason I ever entertained a relationship with her was because she reminded me of a blonde girl who once kissed my cheek. Which brings me to the second thing I wanted to tell you. I’m sorry I was so rude to you today. And I’m sorry my dad was, too.”

  “It sucked,” I confess under my breath.

  “The reason we were rude to you today was to protect you. The only reason I’ve ever been anything but…cordial, I guess, is because I wanted to protect you.”

  Freezing water runs over my lips as I prepare to retaliate, to say how completely untrue that is, how he’s cruel at best. But then our moments together—our few, fleeting moments, pathetic because they’re meaningful only to me—flicker in my mind. His warning in the office the first day, when he told me to obey my Guardian. Cautioning me to get out of the village. Warning me to steer clear of Molly. Cryptically discussing the books. Leaving one on my bed. All of it.

  “If Garnet knew I felt anything for you, she’d ruin you. Both my dad and I know that. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, right?”

  “Is that why she made Harper the lead for the Art Walk? Because she saw the two of us in the library the day Molly died?”

  He nods. “I’ve tried to stay away from you for your sake,” he continues. Huge droplets of water cascade down his nose and chin as, tenderly, he strokes my wet hair from my face. “We were all warned before you got here that there’d be hell to pay if any of us let on about the truth. But it’s never seemed right, keeping you in the dark. Not for a second. That day outside Valedictorian Hall, when we talked about books, I was on the brink of giving you a serious hint. But then Villicus showed up.” He shakes his head, scattering raindrops. As mud pools around us, we wisely but grudgingly get to our feet again. “In his office later, Villicus told me he’d punish me severely if I revealed anything to you. Severely.”

  “Why? Why is it so important to hide the truth from me? Everyone else gets to know. And I’ve figured so much out on my own already!”

  “That’s one of the amazing things about you. How many people would put this together, Anne? Who’d believe they’re vivified on some Maine island?” Running his hands through his wet hair, revealing his beautifully broad chest, he holds my gaze. His breathing is heavy now, as heavy as mine, his chest nearing me every time it rises. “Maybe it’s because you’re an artist. Or a genius. I don’t know.”

  “I’m not a genius.”

  “I’m not trying to flatter you. Look, now that you know what you know, Villicus is going to cause problems for you. And he’ll wonder how you figured it out. And he’ll blame me. Not that it matters, but he will.”

  “Why you?”

  “He heard our conversation that day!” he shouts, backing away from me and beginning to pace. “And Garnet saw us tonight. And so did Pilot.”

  “So what?”

  “Pilot will tell Villicus, and he’ll put two and two together.”

  “Why would Pilot say a thing to Villicus? They hate each other. Plus, it’s not even true! You didn’t tell me any
thing.”

  “This is Villicus we’re talking about, not some district attorney who carefully weighs the facts.”

  Realizing he’s right, I shake my head. “What will he do to you?”

  “It’s not about what he’ll do to me. It’s what he’ll do to Jeannie.”

  “Your sister?” A new possibility occurs to me. “Is she alive on this island, Ben?”

  He shakes his head, no. “But, you see, in the office after our impromptu book club, Villicus threatened to cause trouble on the other side for Jeannie if I told you anything.” His statement leaves me flabbergasted, so he fills in the obvious blank. “In the afterlife.”

  My teeth chatter—not just because I’m freezing. “How could he do that?”

  “It’s possible, Anne. After seeing the things I’ve seen here, I’d put my money on further examples of craziness existing.”

  “How could Villicus reach your sister?”

  “All I know is that I have no recollection of anything that happened during the days between my death and vivification on Wormwood.” He nears me again, but more cautiously this time. “It’s possible the spirit world doesn’t work exactly as we think it does. It’s possible that Villicus could reach Jeannie. I don’t know how, but I wasn’t willing to take that chance with my little sister.”

  “But it’s impossible.”

  “Look at me! Look at you! How much evidence do you need that nothing’s impossible? Not when you’re dealing with evil incarnate.”

  I turn to get my bearings, but he grabs my hands, pulling me even closer.

  “The only reason I’m telling you now is because I’ve realized that Jeannie can take care of herself. The same way you’ve taken care of yourself. That courageous spirit you share. You’re both fighters.”

  Staring through the rain into his eyes, I collect myself enough to choke out, “What did you say about evil incarnate?”

  “You’re freezing,” Ben whispers. “Let’s get you inside, and I’ll explain as much as I can.”

  A half-minute later, we’re inching Gigi’s back door open, tiptoeing into the house, and creeping up the stairs. Teddy, Gigi, and Skippy still haven’t returned, so the house, in all its hallowed silence, with all its empty cabinets and creaking corners, is ours.

  We enter the dark attic and check to make sure the candle continues to burn in the house next door.

  Sitting on a chair in the corner of my room, Ben turns away and flips through The Prince as I change into dry clothes. I offer him a large sweater, but he declines.

  “Evil incarnate,” I repeat, sitting cross-legged on my bed. “What did you mean by that?”

  He holds up the book. “Did you even open this?”

  “Stop deflecting.”

  “I’m not. I’m answering your question the best way I can, without breaking the rules.”

  “I thought you didn’t care about the rules!”

  “I swore not to tell you, Anne. But I didn’t swear not to hint at it.”

  Groaning, not enjoying that loophole, I turn my attention to the tattered book just as he flips open the cover and removes the jacket, letting it fall to the floor. Then he holds the book up to me. It’s not The Prince at all. It’s Christopher Marlowe’s The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus.

  “I went out on a limb to give this to you,” he says. “The biggest possible hint I could give you. And you didn’t even read it.”

  “I thought it was The Prince. I’ve read that before.”

  “Did you think I climbed up the side of your house and through your window for fun?” he asks. “That I left this book here because I had nothing better to do?”

  “Just tell me, how is Doctor Faustus a hint? It’s about an old scholar and the devil.”

  “So you did read it?”

  “Not exactly,” I confess, fidgeting. “Before my mom got sick, she worked in a library. She read constantly. She told me the story on repeat, like it meant something to her. Anyway, it has nothing to do with bringing dead kids to life.”

  “Well, what is it about?”

  “It’s about a guy who wants a better life or more knowledge or something.”

  “Try again.”

  “I won’t play your guessing game.”

  “And I won’t just tell you.”

  “Fine! It’s about…it’s about making deals with the devil.”

  With that, Ben sets his eyes on mine. The pause, the sudden stillness is significant. Significant enough that I stop to think about what I’ve just said. And, instantly, swiftly, with the shocking abruptness of the lightning that flashes outside my window, I think about the Tuition Battle I witnessed only hours ago. The terrible exchanges parents made for their children’s lives. That’s what tuition is. An exchange—what Villicus wants for what a parent wants. Nothing more than a deal with the devil.

  “So, we’re in Hell, and Villicus is the devil?” I scoff.

  “We’re not in Hell.”

  “Then why does that book matter?”

  “You have to answer that.” Ben paces my floor now, taking care to stay away from the window. “Here’s what I can tell you. Villicus has built an empire on Wormwood Island. And he’s used my dad to help him, at least for the last five years. But like any dictator, he’s looking for more. And now, with you, I think he’s found it.”

  I’m reminded that Ben said his family got in a car accident five years ago. In the madness of the evening, it nearly slipped my mind. Already I’ve pieced together that Ben died with his sister and mother in the car that day. But the timing still doesn’t make sense to me.

  “Ben, answer me this. How long have you been at Cania?”

  “Five years.”

  “But you died when you were sixteen. And you appear to be sixteen now. When we’re vivified, do we not age?”

  “The other students do. You will. But I don’t.” He leans against the wall. “I’m not a senior here, Anne. I’m just here.

  That’s why I don’t live in the dorms. I’m not in competition for the Big V. As you may have noticed, the only classes I attend are classes I TA.”

  I search his face and recall something Harper said once about Ben being too old for her. “You’re twenty-one.”

  “I am.” Ben sits beside me on the bed. With a faint smile, he takes my hand in his. “Villicus trapped my dad into his service by offering him what he offers everyone.”

  “A second chance with their child.”

  “He keeps my dad here by promising to keep me alive, with his twist that I remain unaging. One year of my life in exchange for one year of my dad’s servitude. Year after year. It keeps me out of the competition; it keeps me from graduating and permanently expiring; but it also keeps me stuck on this island, eternally sixteen.” He rubs my hand between his. “I don’t blame my dad. I’m sure I’d do the same thing if I were in that situation and was offered, essentially, a miracle.”

  “The exchange your dad made for your life was to work as Villicus’s recruiter?”

  “Villicus wanted access to my dad’s wealthy network. At first, my dad just had to make a choice. That was the price he paid to get me in.”

  “What kind of choice?”

  Ben lowers his head. “He had to choose which of his two children would be vivified and join him on Wormwood.” His face is pale as his distressed gaze finds mine. “Jeannie died. I came back. And I don’t think he’s ever forgiven himself for not being able to bring Jeannie back, too.”

  The front door slams downstairs, startling us both.

  “Anne, I have to go,” Ben whispers, pulling away suddenly.

  As if I could just let him leave now! He’s finally answering my questions. And, with every new answer, I have a new question he needs to address.

  “You can’t go.” I’m unable to keep my voice down as I pull at the hand I still hold, as he starts for the window. “What else aren’t you telling me? You haven’t even said what Garnet gave up!”

  Tugging his arm free, he bolts to the
window and jerks at the lock on it. “Just don’t let Teddy know you know about all this, okay? Dear God, Anne, make sure he doesn’t know. I’ll get my dad to call your dad tonight, and we’ll figure out your situation tomorrow. First thing.”

  Downstairs, Teddy shouts my name. The sound of footsteps bounding up the first flight of stairs follows. I scramble to join Ben at the window.

  “Don’t go,” I plead. “I don’t care if Teddy uses this as a strike against me.”

  “Well,” Ben whispers urgently as he struggles with the window, “I do care. If you’re going to stick around here, you’ll need your Guardian on your side. No two ways around it.”

  Teddy bangs twice on my bedroom door. “You in there?”

  Finally, the window gives. Ben slides it up. But he’s not fast enough. Teddy is already storming up the staircase, heaving and huffing as he leaps from midway up the stairs and, arms thrown wide apart, face distorted in the ugliest grimace, explodes into my room.

  “I knew it!” Teddy shouts. I’ve never seen his expression so twisted, his boney face so gnarly and inhuman. He turns to Ben and points an accusatory finger. “You were told to bring her directly back to your house if you found her. Were you having your way with her instead?”

  “What?” I cry.

  “What garbage are you filling her mind with?” Teddy demands.

  Either that terrible expression or my unhinged hatred for Teddy or the events of the day have caught up with me because I fly at that skinny German beanpole before another ugly word can slither off his pointy tongue. As violently as I can, I thrust his arm down, squishing his bony finger back against his palm, using all the force my stature allows to send him staggering to the staircase.

  Ben is behind me in a flash, sprinting to my side just as Teddy grabs the railing to keep from falling. “Anne, don’t waste your energy.”

  “Don’t touch me with those slut hands,” Teddy growls at me.

  I slap Teddy hard across the face. So hard the loose skin of his cheek flaps. So hard the smacking sound echoes through the attic. He reels back.

  “I rejected you, you pig,” I roar. “Don’t you ever call me that name or any name!”