by Donna Cain
On the second floor, Mr. Hamilton told Bug to wait in his office while he spoke to his assistant. Bug selected the huge, brown leather chair opposite her dad’s desk and sat down. She was running things over in her mind trying to solve the puzzle that had so quickly become the center of her world. Knowledge is Power. She needed more power.
Bug felt so small. Her petite frame had never really bothered her before, but the events of late had left her feeling vulnerable. Knowledge is Power. Willing an idea to spring forth, she said it over and over again in her mind. She took herself back to Professor Monroe’s house. She remembered reading some of the titles on the bookshelves, Ancient Tribes, Tribes FromThe South Pacific, Legends of Dark Magic and, the one that had bothered her, Quiet Death. She wondered if any of those books would hold an answer. She didn’t remember seeing any titles of counter curses or destroying cursed relics. That would have been too easy, she guessed.
She then remembered a book that had been on the table in front of the sofa where she and Shasta had been sitting. It had looked just as tattered as the book the professor had given to Shasta. “What was the name of that one?” She thought. “Oh! That’s it! Curses of Ancient Tribes. Super!” She thought that was a great place to start her research today.
Mr. Hamilton came back in just as Bug had remembered the title of Professor Monroe’s book. “Dad, I remembered something that may help! There was a book in the professor’s house, Curses of Ancient Tribes. We should look it up!”
Mr. Hamilton scribbled the title of the book on a scrap piece of paper and said, “Good, Bug. Let me know anything else you remember. Right now, let’s try to call his home and see where that takes us.”
He had a number on a post-it note that he had carried into the room. He had his assistant look it up for him while Bug was waiting. He sat behind his desk and pulled the telephone closer to him.
Mr. Hamilton punched the “speaker” button and Bug immediately heard the dial tone. They both remained quiet as he punched in the phone number to the house in Shale. One ring sounded then two rings. On the third a voice answered, “Hello?” The voice on the other end of the line was very deep, yet pleasant. Bug looked at her dad and mouthed the word “nurse” to him.
Mr. Hamilton was very professional in his manner, “Hello. My name is Mark Hamilton. I’m the Editor-in-Chief at the Hallston Daily Journal. I’m calling today first, to convey my sympathies to the loved ones of Professor Monroe, and, secondly, I’d like to speak with someone about the possibility of running an article about the professor in my paper. His achievements were so impressive and his tenure at the State College in Chester was also quite notable. Who could I speak with about this possibility?”
They waited. There was silence from the other end of the phone. Mr. Hamilton was about to speak again when an audible sniffle came through.
“I’m sorry,” the voice replied. “I’m still coming to terms with his passing. This is his wife, Truly Monroe.”
Bug looked at her father. Her eyes were wide. The nurse was his wife? She hadn’t guessed that one. There had been nothing between the two of them yesterday that would have given it away.
Mr. Hamilton said quickly, “Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Mrs. Monroe. I realize that it only just happened yesterday. We were just hoping to do a bit more than an obituary considering his contribution to the community.”
“Yes,” the voice responded. “That would be nice. Preston was always working on something. The college was always asking him for his input on one project or another. He would never ask for it, but I would appreciate the recognition.”
“That’s wonderful,” Mr. Hamilton said. “You know, Mrs. Monroe, I’m sure that the college is planning a remembrance as well, so I’d like to focus more on his books. Do you have any copies that I could borrow? Of the three, two are out of print.”
Again the line was silent. The friendly voice that had started the conversation had turned into one of cautiousness. “Why do you need the books? Can’t you just say that he wrote them?”
“Yes,” Mark said, afraid that he was about to lose her. “We could just mention the titles, but I was hoping to go into more depth. I wanted to convey the passion and dedication that Professor Monroe had in his research. I’ve never been able to read his books and was hoping that by reading them, I would have a better understanding of his area of expertise.”
They waited for a response. Bug looked at her dad and mouthed “she knows”. Mark nodded his head in agreement.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Hamilton. I’m afraid that’s impossible. We don’t have any copies of Preston’s books. They were out of print at least thirty years ago. If you’d like to write an article about my husband, please do so, but you’ll have to get your information elsewhere. Thank you for calling.” With that, the line was dead.
Mark punched the speaker button again to disconnect the line. “Well that didn’t go well. I guess it’s you and me, Kiddo.” He winked at Bug and then said, “But I’m calling the sheriff on this, too. He needs to have all of this information.”
He picked up the phone again and dialed the Sheriff’s Department. Asking for the sheriff, he was told that Sheriff Buchanon was busy with a case and asked if the sheriff could return his call. Mark left his name and a request for the sheriff to call back as soon as he was able.
“Time to get this party started,” he said to Bug. He grabbed the scrap paper with the book title and held his other hand out to Bug. “Let’s go!”
She smiled up at her father and took his hand. There was little that Bug loved more than focusing on a problem to solve. She only wished that this problem didn’t have such dire circumstances. She wondered how Shasta and the boys were doing today at school. They must be nervous. It was still well before lunch time, and they would have a long day before talking to Mr. Just.
Stepping into the research room, Bug smelled the familiar newspapery smell again. Yum. She loved that smell. She said hello to Mrs. Shelbourne and went to her favorite computer desk by the window. That was the same computer she had used to find out about the professor. Now she was going to use it to solve the mess that he had created.
While her father spoke to Mrs. Shelbourne, Bug went to the search engine and typed in the title of the book from the professor’s house. It popped up right away. She clicked on the site and found that it had no excerpts. It did, however, list places that the book could be purchased. She wrote down the address of a bookstore in Glovercroft. She hoped her dad could pick that up today.
Next, she searched breaking curses. Those results were less stellar. They ranged from information on a video game to a list of curses from a popular wizarding novel. It would take a while to go through them. She settled in and started to read.
By lunchtime, there were no real leads. Bug had finally narrowed down the search to exclude games, movies and fantasy. She was reading a page on voodoo when her father came over.
“Hey, Hon. I’ve got a couple of leads, but I have some work to do downstairs. I’m going to leave this in your very capable hands for a bit.” He put a piece of paper on the desk that had two titles written. “Oh! Also, Jerry should be back soon with that book from Glovercroft. I’ll have him bring it to you as soon as he’s back.”
Bug had told her father where to find a copy of Curses of Ancient Tribes in Glovercroft. He had sent a runner out for it that morning. Hopefully, something in there would be useful because Bug was not finding much online.
“That’s fine, Dad. I brought my lunch and I’m fine right here. I do want to see that book, though. I’m not finding much here.” She picked up the paper with the titles. “What are these?”
“Those are two books that were listed as references in Professor Monroe’s syllabus for the class he taught at State. We might get lucky.” He kissed her forehead and rushed away.
She looked at the titles he had written, Curses: Fact or Fiction and A History of Affliction by Curse. She typed the first title into the search engine and was pleasantly surpri
sed. It came right up and had numerous excerpts. Reading through the excerpts was quite interesting but not helpful for her cause. She tried the next title. Not as many excerpts were available, but they were more informative than the first book. Bug was happy to see that a curse described in this book had been resolved by burning the object carrying it. Maybe Eli and Hunter would be successful after all, she hoped.
She kept reading and jotting down notes until she was interrupted by Jerry, her dad’s runner. She thanked him as he handed the book off to her. It didn’t look like the same book at all. This one was brand, spanking new. The spine wasn’t even creased. This book looked nothing like the copy in Professor Monroe’s home.
She decided to have some lunch while she read, so she moved from the computer table to the couches in the corner of the Research Room.
“Bug, Honey, you doin’ okay?” It was Mrs. Shelbourne who worked in the room full time. She was responsible for re-shelving and re-filing all of the books, newspapers and CD’s that the staff worked with every day. Bug had known her since she was about seven years old.
“Thanks, Mrs. Shelbourne. I’m fine, just going to break for lunch and read a little,” Bug said as she settled into the comfy couch.
“You just let me know if you need something. I’ll be around here someplace.” She smiled at Bug and made her way to the back room with her arms full of CD’s.
The spine of Curses of Ancient Tribes cracked when Bug opened it. It smelled like a new book, all crisp and clean. New books were Bug’s favorites. A new book meant that she was going to learn something that she hadn’t known before. She took a big bite out of her American cheese on wheat, no mayo, and started to read.
The book was very interesting. In the first chapter alone she learned that there were still many different tribes thought to use curses as part of daily life. Some were in the Amazon, others in little islands up and down South America. There were different beliefs and customs for almost every tribe. The range was amazing. Some tribes used animal blood; some used plants. There was no rhyme or reason to any of it. Everything was much too varied.
She scanned the Table of Contents looking for something to catch her eye. She needed to find the reason that Professor Monroe kept this book and used it so much.
A half an hour later, Mr. Hamilton came back. He found her curled up on the couch reading. Her half eaten sandwich was discarded beside her.
“Hey, Buggie. How’re we doing?” He asked, sitting down beside her. “Have you made any headway?”
Bug looked up at him soberly and said, “Yep. It seems to me that the professor knew what he was doing after all. We have two choices. One is super risky and the other might not work.”
CHAPTER 31
Friends & Neighbors
Bug had just finished explaining the two choices for ridding themselves of the cursed rock when Mark’s cell phone rang. It was his wife. He answered with a certain amount of anxiety, knowing that she only called from work when it was important.
“Hey, Honey. What’s up?” He said, dreading her reply.
“Mark,” she started, “two ambulances just got to the ER.” Mark noticed the tremor in her voice and felt his stomach roll over. “One has Phillip Just, you know, the science teacher at Hallston High? And Mark, the other is Shasta. There was a fire at the high school. It looks bad, Honey.”
Shasta, no! Mark then thought of Hunter and Eli seeking help from the teacher with the rock. “Are there any others?” He asked.
“No, not so far. You should probably send someone to the high school, though. I’m not hearing much information other than their medical conditions.” She paused then, adding, “I don’t think the teacher’s going to make it.” He could hear her holding back tears. “Shasta is critical. I’m so worried about her, Mark. I’m waiting here for Val and Bill. How’s Bug? You have to break the news to her about Shas.”
“She’s fine.” He looked at his daughter who was listening intently. “I’ll tell her and we’ll be right over. We’ll see you soon, Honey. Call me back if you hear anything else.” He ended the call and looked at Bug. She knew something was wrong. Her eyes were big and worried.
“What happened?” She asked in a small voice.
“Bug, Honey.” Mark said as he took her tiny hands into his big ones. “There’s been a fire at the high school. A teacher has been hurt.”
She interrupted him then. “The science teacher, Mr. Just.” She said it matter-of-factly, like she had been expecting to hear that news.
“Yes, but someone else was hurt.” He paused, not knowing how to break it to her.
“Eli? Hunter? Who is it, Daddy?”
Bug hadn’t called him Daddy in years. “Honey, it’s Shasta. She was hurt in the fire, and she’s in critical condition at the hospital.”
Bug’s mouth opened as she took in a little gasp of air. “Shas? What was she doing there? It was just supposed to be Hunter and Eli!”
“I don’t know, Honey, but let’s get to the hospital and see what we can find out.” He nodded toward the book on the couch beside her. “Throw that in your bag. We’re still going to need it.” He put his arm around her as they left the Research Room. On the way down, they stopped on the second floor so he could tell his assistant to get a crew over to the high school as soon as possible. They needed to get all the information from the firefighters at the scene.
The hospital was crowded. Bill and Valerie Port had arrived and were standing with Ann. Eli and Hunter were there speaking with Deputy Clay. The boys were covered with soot and looked shaken. Sheriff Buchanon was talking to one of the paramedics. Darren was there, too. He was standing off to the side and looking down one of the hospital corridors. Mark guessed that that must be the direction they had taken Shasta.
Ann saw them arrive and came running over to Bug. She gathered the girl in her arms and held her tightly. “Bug, Shasta will be okay. The doctor said that she’s regained consciousness and they’re looking her over now. She’ll be alright, Honey.”
Bug didn’t feel like crying. She just felt tired. There had been so many emotions rolling around in her lately. She wasn’t used to dealing with so many at once. She hugged her mother back and sighed.
Mark made his way over to the sheriff. He was just finishing his discussion with the paramedic who was walking away.
“Sheriff, I tried calling you earlier today. I have something incredibly important to talk to you about,” Mark began.
“Hey, Mark. I’m sure you can understand I’m in the middle of this investigation right now. Can we talk later? Tomorrow, maybe? I may be tied up here a while.” The sheriff was looking past Mr. Hamilton at the boys with the deputy.
“No, it can’t wait. As a matter of fact, the information I have is directly related to what’s going on here.” He followed his gaze. “And if you’re thinking that those boys have something to do with it, you’re right. But it isn’t their fault. It’s simply a series of events that started innocently enough. It’s going to take some doing for us to stop it, though.”
By the time he finished speaking Mark had Sheriff Buchanon’s attention. He was looking at Mark with a quizzical expression. “I’m listening.” He motioned to a stand of chairs along the hallway. The men walked over and sat down.
Eli’s head was pounding as he answered the deputy’s questions. Yes, they were with Mr. Just when the fire broke out. No, it was not intentional. Yes, they were working in the lab. No, the fire was not due to any negligence on the teacher’s part.
The guilt weighing down both boys now was enormous. Mr. Just had been pronounced dead when they had arrived at the hospital ER. When they heard the news, Hunter had looked at Eli with a mixture of shock and grief. Eli’s head had exploded with pain. He wasn’t sure how he was going to survive this nightmare. It just kept getting worse, and now Shasta was hurt.
Eli looked over at Darren who was guarding the hallway down which they had taken Shasta. He had saved their lives. If it hadn’t been for Darren, he and
Hunter would be dead now as well. Eli didn’t remember anything from the time that the lab table had ignited until he woke up on the grass outside of the school with an oxygen mask over his face. Hunter had filled him in. He had been so overcome with the smoke that he had lost his way in the room. He had found Eli but didn’t know how to exit the classroom. Thankfully, Darren had shown up then.
The deputy finished with his questions and walked over to speak with Darren. Hunter turned to Eli and said, “Man, Shasta has to make it. I don’t think I can handle one more person dying because of us. I feel so bad about Mr. Just. I can’t imagine losing Shasta, too.”
“I know. I’m freaking out, too. This is way too overwhelming. It’s time to go to the sheriff, Hunter. We can’t handle the situation ourselves anymore.” Eli had tears in his eyes.
“You’re right. We’ve tried everything we can. We need help.”
Hunter looked over at the sheriff. He was talking to Bug’s dad, but staring at him and Eli. Hunter felt uneasy and looked away. “I think he might know already,” he said to Eli.
Eli followed his glance and saw the two men talking, the sheriff looking right at them. His guilt overwhelmed him. Eli walked over to another section of chairs and slumped into one. Just then, Lara Andrews and Gina and Hank Massey came rushing into the emergency room. They scanned it quickly then made a beeline for their sons.
Darren was having a tough time with the deputy’s questions. He was about to come unglued. His worry over Shasta’s condition was making him crazy. She had regained consciousness, but she was still in pretty bad shape.
He finished quickly with Deputy Clay. Mainly, he needed to confirm everything that the deputy had already learned from Eli and Hunter. Darren was angry, but he wasn’t sure why or at whom. He wasn’t angry at Eli and Hunter. He understood that the guys were just trying to take care of the problem and it had gotten out of hand. From listening to Hunter, it sounded like the initial flame had come from the rock itself. So who was he mad at?