Puppet

by Ed Kightlinger

  Missus Davenhill nods her head. She hands the money to her secretary. Missus Bell snaps a picture of the bill with her smartphone. She places the money inside a folder.

  “Chloe, what did Mister Cheaply say that made you so upset?” Missus Davenhill asks. “Of course, you do not have to tell me,” she glances around the table, “or the others unless you want to, especially if what he said doesn’t have anything to do with any of us.”

  Chloe exclaims loudly, “It has everything to do with you and every one of us!” She glances at the other members of the Sextet. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you what happened. That is because of everything crazy that has been going on since Mister Cheaply accosted me outside his store.

  “He threatened me, my brother, Jim, who works for him, and my father. He told me to limit the efforts of the investigative team, our Sextet.” Her face noticeably flushes. The royally stupid man accused my father of stealing athletic shoes, socks, and headbands from Dooley’s. The stuff was for the volleyball team. I replied that you, Missus Davenhill, had given him the money to buy the stuff. I told him I was in the living room when you gave him the check. I saw the transaction with my own two eyes.”

  Missus Davenhill says, “I have two comments for you, Chloe. First, it isn’t nice to call people names. You know that. Therefore, please do not call a grownup or anybody else stupid, okay?” Chloe nods her head and reaches for another tissue.

  Missus Davenhill glances around the room. She is beaming. “Yes, do not call someone stupid even if he deserves it.” Her remark causes the Sextet members to laugh.

  “Second, I have the copy of the invoice from Dooley’s. Your father purchased all of the attire as promised. He even wrote a personal check for the nine percent tax that Dooley’s hadn’t mentioned to Missus Bell when she placed the order over the phone. Naturally, we reimbursed him for the taxes. Everything your father did on behalf of the school volleyball team was legit. I have the documents to prove it. Therefore, do not concern yourself with what Mister Cheaply said about your father, okay?”

  Chloe happily smiles with relief, and then she replies in a whisper, “Yes, ma’am, and I thank you.”

  Missus Davenhill says, “You are welcome. Now, Chloe, please tell us what else Mister Cheaply said about your team’s investigation. Just give us the major points of your conversation with him.”

  Chloe describes the conversation she had with Mister Cheaply when he stopped her outside of his shop. She ends her narration with, “Then he threatened to stop paying for the school’s extracurricular programs that he sponsors.” She glances around the table. “To include the drama club.”

  “I see,” is all that Missus Davenhill says. She slowly makes eye contact with the other members of the Sextet one by one.

  “Does anyone else have anything they would like to add? Is there anything to offer as it concerns Mister Cheaply and his sponsorship of our extracurricular programs? Have any of you experienced new visions that underscore what Brenae has said?” No one replies. Missus Davenhill says, “Okay, does anyone have any new information that concerns your investigative efforts?”

  Brenae says, “Go ahead, Sophia, tell her. She and the others have to know.”

  “Know what, Sophia?” Missus Davenhill asks. “Do you have anything to share as it concerns the investigation?”

  “Not directly, ma’am,” Sophia replies. “Then again, just like Bre, I too had a peculiar vision. It scared the bejesus out of me.” She laughs as she glances around the table. Then she looks at her principal. “And you know me, ma’am. It takes a lot to scare me, an awful lot.”

  “Yes, I know that for a fact, Sophia,” Missus Davenhill says. She glances at Officer Bennett. “Our school resource officer told me about your skills a while ago. Do you mind telling me what happened in your vision?”

  Sophia says, “I was in the library. I know for a fact that I was in the library the day in question because I had two bookmarks in my purse. You probably know the ones to which I am referring. They are the pretty, handmade bookmarks the library offers for a small, monetary donation.”

  Missus Davenhill nods her head. “Yes, the bookmarks are made by the men and women who live in the assisted living facility.”

  “Yes, exactly,” Sophia replies. “They are gorgeous bookmarks. I donated four dollars. Afterward, I was in the basement reading up on supernatural, weird stuff like puppets, marionettes, and creepy clowns.” Sophia hesitates slightly as goose bumps crawl up her freckled forearms. She vigorously rubs her forearms with her hands.

  “I came across an article about the creepy clown in Poltergeist and the horrible, murderous clown in the movie It.” She glances around the table. Her eyes are misting with tears. “I have an aversion of clowns, life-sized clowns as well as small ones used as playthings. My dislike of clowns is due to the horrible experience I had when I was a little girl. I was eight-years-old.

  “My best friend used to wear a clown mask for fun. She wore it all the time. Then one day I learned she had died as a result of a diabetic attack. No one suspected she had diabetes. Her parents gave the clown mask to me as a loving souvenir of her short life and our friendship. Despite their good intentions, I could not bring myself to look at the clown mask ever again. I asked my parents to get rid of it. It may seem weird, but I have been afraid of clowns ever since.

  “Please excuse me for getting off track. Now, back to my story. I was sitting at the table in the basement all by myself. I was listening to music on my headphones while reading. All of a sudden it heard it. It was a frightening, high-pitched voice! And it was right behind me!

  “The owner of the voice, it sounded like that of a teenager, told me to get up from the table and walk to the wall. He told me not to turn around. I was to kneel once I was standing at the wall. Why I do not know.” Sophia goes on to tell the others about her vision to include what she thought were Diana Jane’s cries of anguish.

  “As I said, I heard screams and pleading words that sounded like they came from Diana Jane. For some strange reason, my intuition told me something wasn’t legitimate. I didn’t address Diana Jane by her rightful name. Instead, I said, ‘Diana Elaine Crowley, are you going to be okay?’ The voice that sounded like it belonged to Diana Jane answered me once more, but surprisingly the owner of Diana Jane’s voice did not challenge me for using a made-up name. Diana Jane’s supposed voice pleaded with me to cooperate with whomever the person was.’” Sophia pauses briefly to wipe her eyes with a tissue.

  “Then I asked the owner of the voice what he was going to do with Diana Elaine. I purposely added emphasis on the fictional middle name I had made up, Elaine. The creepy voice replied that what he did with; his words exactly, ‘Diana Elaine Crowley’ was none of my business. Since the weirdness of what was happening seemed too bizarre to be real, and what I thought was Diana Jane’s voice was too far off, and thus she would not be harmed, I decided to act. I whirled around and…’”

  Sophia is unable to complete her sentence as she breaks down in tears. Diana Jane rushes around the table to console her with a tender embrace. For all of us who know Diana Jane personally, we know she has a heart of gold and is readily available and willing to comfort all of her friends in their time of need.

  Diana Jane says, “It is okay, Sophia. You can tell them like you told Bre and me. Getting it out and confronting your innermost fears and sad moments are good things. Trust me. I have lost a special friend that used to be in my life, at least temporarily, so I know from firsthand experience how painful keeping things inside can be.”

  Sophia glances up at Diana Jane. She smiles meekly, and then she mouths a silent, “Thank you.” Sophia glances around the table as she resumes her story.

  “Anyway, I quickly whirled around. I was ready to strike out at the owner of the voice. Instead of what I thought I would see once I spun around, I saw a life-sized replica of Pennywise from the movie It. To say that it scared me half to death is a colossal understatement. I saw other horrible
things as well; however, I won’t go into those right now. They are too frightening to even think about them.

  “I woke up in my bed. My blanket was at the foot of my bed as if I had kicked at it during a nightmare. I'd be darned if there weren’t at least seven or eight strands of twine embedded in it! Naturally, I cried a bit, and I pondered what in the world was going on. I reached over to my nightstand, grabbed my purse, and then I cautiously looked inside. I saw the two bookmarks, and I was missing the four dollars that I had donated to the residents of the assisted living facility. I also saw something else.” Sophia stops talking. She begins to shiver as she stares at the table. Her expression is chilling as if she has seen a ghost.

  “What did you see,” Missus Davenhill says in a whisper. “Can you tell us?”

  Diana Jane leans over and whispers into Sophia’s ear. “Go ahead, show them. I know it will shock them, but the other members of the Sextet and Missus Davenhill have to know. Show them, Accountant. Please.”

  Sophia reaches under her chair and retrieves her backpack. She places it on the table and opens it. She gingerly removes eight coils of twine and sets them on the table one by one.

  “I saw these eight horrible, ugly things in my purse. Six coils of twine have labels with the first letter of the nickname that belongs to one of the Sextet members. Strangely, there is a coil of twine that is, oddly enough, labeled with the letter W. The eighth coil of twine I’ll get to last.” She starts to take the coils of twine out of her purse one by one.

  “There are two coils of twine labeled with the letter A. One is for the Accountant, that’s me, and one is for Diana Jane, the Actress. This one with the letter V is for the Ventriloquist, Bre. Here is one with the letter C for the Champ, Chloe.

  “These two, one with the letter S and one with the letter M are for the Skater, Jay, and the Minstrel, Colette, in that order. As I mentioned, this coil of twine has the letter W. I have no idea to whom this letter is supposed to imply. Maybe it’s the first letter of someone’s nickname, or it could be a coincidence. It may not belong to anyone.”

  Sophia pushes the eighth coil of twine across the table toward Missus Davenhill. “I am sorry to say this, ma’am. There is one for you as well.”

  Missus Davenhill reaches across the table for the coil of twine. Brenae suddenly shouts, “Don’t! Don’t touch the coil, Missus Davenhill! Please don’t touch it. I will do it.” Missus Davenhill quickly withdraws her hand in response to Brenae’s shouts. The other members of the Sextet and Missus Bell recoil with alarm. Once again, in his typical calm, seemingly uninterested way, Officer Bennett does not react.

  Brenae says with a frown, “Sorry everyone. The last thing we want is for our principal to have visions.” She laughs loudly. “Can you imagine? Homework for everyone, no less than four hours a night per subject. We will be going bonkers in no time!”

  No one laughs in response to Brenae’s awkward attempt at easing the tenseness in the conference room. Brenae puckers her brow, and then she hastily grabs the coil of twine. She stares at the inscription written on an index card taped to the coil. She looks at Missus Davenhill. The expression on Brenae’s face is one of outright fear.

  Brenae says in a hesitant voice, “Do you want me to read what it says on the index card, Missus Davenhill?” Missus Davenhill smiles and nods her head.

  Brenae’s voice is unsteady when she reads the inscription.

  “It reads, ‘Property of Marie Davenhill, former Principal, Claymore High School.’”

  All eyes are on Missus Davenhill. She takes a quick look around the table.

  The Sextet’s principal says, “I am not going anywhere, not today, tomorrow, or even next year for that matter. Moreover, as far as the Sextet is concerned, the six of you aren’t going anywhere for the rest of the day. I’m excusing you from the remainder of today’s classes so you can plan your next course of action. You can relocate to the small conference room next to the guidance counselor’s office after you have finished eating.”

  Brenae shouts, “Now, that exactly is what I’m talking about! Hooray!”

  The other members of the Sextet glance at Brenae cautiously, and then they look over at Missus Davenhill. They are relieved to see their principal is smiling.

  Diana Jane says, “Leave it to you, Bre, to break the tension in the room. That is why we love you so much!”

  Missus Davenhill points to the doorway. “Ah, look. Our lunch is here. Wings, pizza, and milkshakes from Tony’s Pizzeria.”

  Once Brenae sees the milkshakes, she shouts once more.

  “Oh, look! There is a solitary strawberry-flavored shake for me, and there is a peppermint shake for Chloe! I guess the rest of you will have to fight over the chocolate and vanillas!”

  Brenae looks at Missus Davenhill and grins. “Ma’am, I would hug you right here and now in front of everyone if you weren’t our principal and I wasn’t about to break like a gazillion school rules. Thank you! You are totally, awesomesauce coolio!”

  Brenae’s unsolicited outburst causes laughter from every member of the Sextet, including their principal and her secretary. Once again, Officer Bennett does not react.

  Missus Davenhill says with a smile, “Dig in.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  THE VICE CHAIRMAN

  “It takes years of living to realize what gives you life.”

  Part I: VCAASM and Sobriquets

  The three adults have gathered around one corner of the table. The Sextet has moved to the smaller conference room next to the career counselor’s office.

  Officer Bennett says, “Marie, what do you think? Should we allow the students to continue their investigation?”

  “Yes, and no,” Missus Davenhill replies. “Yes, we should give them full latitude to do what they do best, investigate. They seem to have a good handle on their approach to the problem. Conversely, in the no category, I think the three of us should meet with them more often, perhaps once a week during lunch.” She looks at her secretary. “What do you think, Kim?”

  Missus Bell says, “Sounds okay with me, Marie.”

  Officer Bennett says, “I also agree, Marie, except I am worried about the children’s safety. Perhaps we should consider terminating their investigation.”

  Missus Davenhill replies, “Bartholomew, please trust me when I say I am concerned for their safety as well. Their safety is my number one priority. Also, I truly believe that what they are experiencing is not targeted at them specifically. There is no way you could know this, but the school nurse and career counselor have seen other students concerning incidents that surrounds that strange man, Puppet.” She shakes her head a few times. Her expression is troubled. “No, I do not think we should terminate their investigation.”

  “Is twine involved in the others’ visions?” Officer Bennett asks eagerly.

  Missus Davenhill notices Officer Bennett has an unusually concerned look on his face. Hmm, I wonder why that is? It almost is as if he is happy the kids are experiencing visions. But no, I’m sure he has concerns about the students’ hallucinations just like me.

  Missus Davenhill replies bluntly to Officer Bennett’s question. “Yes, strands of twine are involved. Nearly all of the students have had a coil of Puppet’s twine in their possession at one time or another. Strangely, whether or not a student has, or has had, a coil of twine in his or her possession seems to affect them in different ways.”

  “What do you mean?” Officer Bennett asks. “What are the differences in student’s being affected? Have you figured it out?”

  “Not precisely. Some of the students claim they discarded the coil of twine, yet for some strange reason, they continue to experience puppety visions. Others have stated they have a coil of twine, yet they feel virtually nothing related to similar visions.”

  Officer Bennett is shaking his head as he states in a persuasive tone, “Once again, Marie, I must strongly recommend you terminate the investigation.”

  Missus Davenhill leans forward as s
he looks Officer Bennett squarely in the eye.

  She says firmly, “Bartholomew, once again I must strongly state that I will not terminate the investigation, at least not at this point. The six students of the Sextet deserve to know that I will support them no matter what. Besides, they have earned the right. No, Bartholomew, I will not terminate the investigation, and I wish you would stop asking me to do so.”

  “Okay,” Officer Bennett says with a smirk. “I will not mention terminating the investigation any longer, although I seriously think you should consider doing so. And trust me when I say this, I for one am determined to do something about all these weird visions your students are experiencing.”

  Missus Davenhill says in an unhappy tone, “In addition to the weird visions there are the five strange fatalities to consider. One of those fatalities is our beloved star quarterback, Anthony Marvella.”

  “Yes, Anthony Marvella’s death is a tragedy,” Officer Bennett offers. “When you take a moment to consider it, Marvella was the one who started the fistfight when he jumped over the serving line railing.”

  “I never thought of it that way,” Missus Davenhill says. “Do you think there is any correlation between Anthony’s act at the food fight and all the other craziness that we have seen since?”

  Officer Bennett shrugs his shoulders. “I am not certain. However, this much I know, Marie. The four other fatalities on Grider Street were members of Marvella’s extended family. The four fatalities occurred just outside of the beverage bottling plant. The four of them were walking as a group when some strange phenomena killed them. They smashed head-on to a truck. They died instantly.”

  Missus Davenhill has a surprised look on her face when she says, “Really? I didn’t know that. How strange and coincidental.” She shakes her head. “How tragic too. I feel very sorry for the Marvella family.”