Olivia Stone and the Trouble with Trixies

by Jeffery E Doherty

  “On top of all the other stuff that’s happening at night, cats are disappearing from all over the city,” says Mum.

  “And that’s just the ones that have been reported,” Dad adds.

  Olivia scoops Rum-Tum up and hugs him close. “Don’t worry Rum-Tum. I won’t let anyone take you.”

  Olivia finishes her toast and fiddles with the wave of dark hair that drapes the left side of her face.

  “Now, about school,” says Dad.

  Olivia ducks deeper behind her screen of hair. “Do I have to?”

  “You are going to have to sometime.” Dad taps twice on the side of his nose. “And you know what I always say…”

  “Don’t put off ‘til tomorrow…” Mum starts.

  “What you should do today,” Olivia finishes. She gives her dad a sad half-smile.

  “Well you’d better wash up and get dressed,” says Dad.

  Chapter 14

  Stupid Thoughts

  Yip has lost all track of time. He doesn’t know if it’s night or day or even if he is still blind. The dark in the room is absolute. Again he curses at how different he is to the other Grotesques, curses whatever blunder Brother Westerman made during the ritual that gave him life.

  To think—he’d once felt sorry for the priest. Prior Greyson had stopped his mentorship with a much younger priest after Yip was created.

  Brother Westerman had given life to Yip against the express orders of the Prior. Young Westerman was proud and confident in his studies. He hadn’t believed Yip would be too small and weak to be of any use as a Guardian.

  Maybe Prior Greyson was right, thought Yip. I am useless. The only thing I have ever been good at is causing trouble.

  “You are always getting into mischief,” Cygnet would scold.

  “You’re too interested in those human children,” Leonine, the sleek feline Guardian warned whenever he caught Yip peeking in through the windows of the darkened dormitory rooms.

  Angel was the only one to ever stand up for him. She would frown at times and roll her eyes but she never gave voice to her thoughts if she felt the same as the others. In fact, during the early days after his creation, Angel had mothered him relentlessly. Yip couldn’t believe he had once hated Angel’s smothering attention.

  What he wouldn’t give for her to be there now to comfort him.

  Stupid! Stupid! Stupid, he silently shouts.

  How long has it been?

  It feels like he’s been statue-trapped for an eternity. It was never too bad, knowing he’d be free again when the moon rose. But the thought of being stuck like this forever is driving him over the edge. How much longer can he stand it?

  No, I have to hold on. I have to find a way to get out of this mess, to put things right.

  Somehow, Yip has to prove to himself that he isn’t as useless as everyone believes.

  He has to make it NOT be his fault.

  But it’s his fault. If he hadn’t fallen for the Trixie trap, the Guardians wouldn’t be in this predicament.

  Yip wails inwardly. Stupid Grotesque creature, he chants in his mind. You should never have been created.

  ~~~

  Olivia is late but she has a note from the office. She walks slowly along the corridor with her head down, watching her feet shuffle over the polished linoleum tiles. Ms. Hellings’ room is right at the end of the North Wing of the main building. An odd low-pitched buzz starts in Olivia’s head as she walks closer to the room. She shakes her head but the buzzing remains.

  Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! The buzz forms into distorted words, mocking her every step.

  Olivia passes the stairs leading down to the basement storeroom and shivers. She looks into the dark recess at the shadowy door at the bottom. For some unknown reason, that doorway gives her the jitters. She hurries past.

  When she opens the door to the classroom, Olivia freezes. Someone is sitting at her desk beside Kellyanne Kazek. Olivia feels a surge of anger and betrayal. She has only been away for two days and they have given her seat away to someone else.

  The new girl has long hair that spills down her back in tight golden ringlets. Her skin is pale and clear, no freckles, no spots—not a single blemish to mar her model perfect complexion. The girl glances toward the door and smiles—her bright-blue eyes sparkling at Olivia.

  Olivia lets her head drop forward so her hair hides the horrid scars and stony grey skin on her face.

  Stupid Grotesque creature, the voice chants in her mind. You should never have been created.

  Olivia bites hard on her bottom lip. She tastes coppery blood on her tongue.

  “Olivia,” Ms. Hellings calls. “Don’t just stand there, come in and take a seat.”

  Ms Hellings strides across the room and takes the note from Olivia’s hand. She glances briefly at it and tucks it into her pocket.

  Olivia looks her desk where the new girl sits.

  Ms Hellings follows her gaze. “You’ll have to sit at the front next to Hector.”

  Olivia limps forward.

  Hector sits, twisting a lump of plasticine into an intricate shape.

  Glancing back once more toward her old seat, Olivia sees Kellyanne shrug.

  The new girl looks smug.

  As Olivia sits down Hector slides a plasticine figure across to her. He doesn’t look up.

  The squeak of the whiteboard marker jolts Olivia out of her daze. Ms Hellings is copying math equations onto the whiteboard.

  “Now, we’ve already done some of these together as a class,” she says. “So if you were listening…” She gives the four boys in the back row a hard look. “You shouldn’t have any problems with these.”

  It’s all your fault, the voice sounds in Olivia’s head.

  “Copy these into your workbooks. I want at least ten of them completed before you go to reading groups.”

  “Ten?” The boys in the back row groan.

  You stupid thing, the voice wails.

  Olivia squeezes her eyes shut.

  It’s your own silly fault.

  Olivia clenches her right hand into a tight fist, bouncing it on the desk top. The injury to her head must be been worse than the doctors thought.

  Always in the wrong place!

  I’m going mad, she thinks.

  I already said that. The voice in her head sounds confused. You are useless!

  “Olivia?” Ms Hellings asks.

  “Am not.”

  Useless!

  “Stop it, Olivia.” Ms Hellings moves to stand in front of Olivia’s desk.

  It would be better for everyone if you were dead, the voice snaps coldly.

  Ms Hellings raises her voice. “Olivia, you are disrupting the class.”

  “Oh shut up. Shut up. Shut up!” Olivia shouts.

  Ms. Hellings’ face turns a deep shade of purple-red. Her hand slams on the desktop. “How dare you!”

  Olivia looks up. She hadn’t realised she’d shouted out loud.

  Bother, she inwardly screams. See what you’ve done now!

  “I will not have students talk to me in that manner, young lady.” Ms Hellings makes a scoffing sound. “And I’m using the term ‘young lady’ very loosely. Go to the principal’s office right this second.”

  Olivia tips her chair over as she breaks into a shambling run for the door.

  Wait, the voice calls.

  Hector picks up the plasticine figure and tucks it carefully into his shirt pocket as the classroom door slams shut.

  Chapter 15

  Is Anybody There?

  At first, Yip doesn’t realise there is a voice other than his own rattling about in his head but when it yells, ‘See what you’ve done now!’ he stops his self-accusing rant and tries to think.

  Is one of the others aware too? No, that’s impossible—the other Grotesques don’t work like that. There is someone else—someone who hears his thoughts. Yip’s mind works overtime. Hope flares inside his chest. This could be his way to escape. If he can communicate, he can convince
whoever it is to help him.

  Hello, his mind calls out. Anybody there?

  This is ridiculous. What a dumb thing to say. Still, he calls again.

  Hello, I need your help. He waits.

  Nothing.

  I’m trapped somewhere in the school and if I don’t get out the city will fall into chaos.

  It’s no use. There’s no reply.

  Perfect. His one chance of getting help and he’s so busy accusing himself, he doesn’t even realise help is at hand.

  Cygnet was right, I am a useless idiot. Yip kicks himself mentally. He is doing it again. Calm down. He has to be patient and listen

  ~~~

  Olivia doesn’t go to straight to the principal’s office. As she nears the girl’s toilets she hears a distinct clip-slide footstep in the corridor. She looks up to see Brother Westerman coming toward her from his rooms in the West Tower.

  He is the last person she wants to see.

  She turns in through the toilet door and locks herself in one of the cubicles. The voice has faded into a dull senseless buzzing—muted but grating on her nerves. She can’t concentrate, can’t focus.

  “Calm down,” she whispers to herself. She closes her eyes and takes some deep breaths.

  A few minutes later, Olivia hears footsteps coming into the toilets.

  “Did you hear about Emmett Mayse’s older brother?” a girl asks.

  “Nah.” The second girl doesn’t seem all that interested.

  “Yeah, Erik was in high school,” the first girl says. “I know because my dad’s a policeman.” She pauses for a second, as if she has forgotten where she is in her tale. “Well, Erik drowned in the lake at the park on Tuesday night. Two of his friends drowned too.”

  The first girl is Donna Gorsline, Madonna actually, but she hates that name and gets really cranky if anyone uses it. Olivia doesn’t recognise the second voice. She peeks through the crack in the door and sees the tight golden curls of the new girl.

  “What were they doing in the park at night?” the new girl asks.

  “Drinking probably. That’s what my dad says. Anyway, he said he could smell alcohol on the breath of the kids who reported the drowning.”

  The new girl tuts dramatically.

  “The boys said they’d swum out to rescue a girl clinging to an overturned row boat,” Donna confides. “But Dad thinks they pinched one of the boats from the hire place and fell in because they were drunk. He thinks they made up the rescue story. They didn’t find any young girl in the water and they had divers in the lake all afternoon.”

  Olivia hears a tap running, then the girls footsteps fade back out into the hallway.

  Yet another tragic event in Haven.

  What is happening to the city? Olivia has never heard of so much trouble happening so close together. Could the reporter from the paper be right? Could the tragedies be connected?

  No, that’s just silly.

  Olivia leaves the cubicle and limps to the sink to splash some water on her face. It’s time to face the music. She walks past the administration office and knocks quietly on the principal’s door.

  “Come in.”

  Principal McFarren is a formal and stern looking man with short dark hair and just a little grey curling at his temples. He wears a suit jacket and a really wide bright coloured tie with a picture of Tweety Bird on it.

  “Ah,” he says. “How are you Olivia?”

  “Not very good, Mr McFarren…”

  He motions for Olivia to sit in the chair near his desk. “What’s the problem?”

  Olivia hesitates. “Ms Hellings sent me out of class.”

  The principal raises an eyebrow. “Why would she go and do that?” His face is still stern, it always is, but he doesn’t look angry.

  Olivia thinks that is the reason he wears the cartoon ties each day. “I yelled at her to shut up…but I didn’t. It wasn’t her I was yelling at…”

  “Whoa, slow down.” He sits forward in his chair, leaning his hands on his knees. “Take your time and tell me who upset you.”

  Olivia takes some deep breaths. She can’t tell him she is hearing voices in her head. Everyone knows only crazy people hear voices. Her limp, useless left arm and her scarred face are more than enough to deal with. She doesn’t want people to think she is crazy too.

  Olivia rubs her face and begins, “As I was walking to class, there was a buzzing noise in my ear.” She points to her left ear, the one that was injured when the gargoyle fell on her. “It was distracting,” Olivia continues.

  Mr McFarren nods encouragement for her to continue.

  “There was a new girl and she was in my seat.”

  “That would be Tannith,” Mr McFarren says. “She started here on Monday, the day of the acc…” He lets the sentence trail off. “Did she say something to you?”

  “No,” Olivia says, “I had to sit down the front with Hector Redford but the buzzing was getting worse.”

  “Did Hector say something to you?” he asks. “Sometimes Hector says things he doesn’t mean.”

  “No.” Olivia’s voice goes up, just a little.

  Mr McFarren holds up his hand. “Sorry, I’ll stop interrupting.” He smiles but he doesn’t look any less stern.

  “The buzzing was getting worse. Ms Hellings was putting sums on the board but I couldn’t concentrate. I didn’t know she was talking to me and I didn’t know I yelled shut up out loud until she sent me out.” Olivia slumps in her seat, hot tears brimming in her eyes.

  Mr McFarren sits quietly for a moment, giving Olivia time to compose herself.

  “I wasn’t yelling at her, honest I wasn’t.”

  “I believe you, Olivia,” he says. “Do you want me to call your parents to come and pick you up?”

  Olivia gasps. “N…no. I’ll be OK. The buzzing has almost gone. I’ll be right to go back to class.”

  Mr McFarren rubs his chin. “I think I had better call them.”

  Olivia slumps further into the chair, her face disappearing completely behind her hair.

  “Not about the incident with Ms Hellings,” he assures her. “Just to let them know about the buzzing. If it doesn’t get better, they’ll have to tell your doctor.”

  Olivia’s head comes up a little bit.

  “The bell’s about to go…” he glances at his timetable on the wall, “…for reading groups. Why don’t you sit here until it rings and then make your way there? I’ll talk to Ms Hellings and sort things out.” Mr McFarren stands up. He pats Olivia gently on the shoulder as he walks out of the room.

  Chapter 16

  Broken Wards

  Olivia gets to sit in her normal seat next to Darcy in reading groups. Darcy is nice but she is the biggest gossip in the school. When Gossip Girl started on television, all the girls in class teased Darcy that they’d made a show all about her. Darcy would poke her tongue out and continue passing on some scandalous tidbit of a story. Olivia thinks she makes half the stuff up.

  “Your hair looks different,” Darcy observes, as Olivia sits down.

  Olivia reaches up self-consciously.

  “Did you really tell Ms Hellings to shut up?” she demands, her eyes alight with mischief. “I’d have loved to see that.” Darcy nudges Olivia’s shoulder.

  Olivia flinches.

  “Sorry, is that where you were hurt?”

  “It’s OK,” Olivia says. “It was my elbow.” Her voice is very quiet and a little shaky.

  “Did she go spac?” Darcy asks.

  “Girls,” Miss Naas says. “Silent reading.”

  Olivia opens her book. The buzzing is gone. It had faded completely when they left the main building of St. Giles and walked across the quadrangle to one of the newer classrooms. But now her eyes are giving her trouble and squinting against the bright light gives her a headache. She reaches into her bag and puts her sunglasses on.

  ”Look at Little Miss Cool,” one of the boys at the back of the room calls out. The other boys near him start to snicker.


  Olivia’s shoulders slump.

  Miss Naas glares at them over her own glasses. ”Boys.”

  With a sigh, Olivia finally looks at the random book she picked up from the reading tub.

  Myths and Monsters of Folk Lore.

  Olivia would much rather read one of the Gisela Grant—Girl Hero books but she doesn’t want to get back up. Darcy has enough to gossip about already. By the end of the day, the story of her misunderstanding with Ms Hellings will have reached epic proportions. She doesn’t need to give Darcy any more ammunition.

  When Olivia starts reading she is amazed to find how many different types of fairy, pixy and imp there are. According to the book, almost every tree has its own type of fairy and not all of them are pretty or nice. The imps have almost as many variations. The book would have been more interesting if all those magical creatures were real.

  ~~~

  At recess, Olivia sits at one of the bench tables in the north quadrangle behind the main building. She isn’t hungry so she takes the soft rubber ball the doctor gave her from her bag. It is squishy, like a stress ball. At least five times a day, she has to squeeze it twenty times with her left hand.

  By the fourth squeeze, her hand is starting to tremble. By the tenth, she is straining and sweating. It isn’t that she lacks the strength—her fingers are so stiff she can’t close them properly anymore. Next week, she has to start physiotherapy.

  Kellyanne and the new girl, Tannith, come up to the table as Olivia reaches her fifteenth squeeze. She stops and puts the ball back into her bag.

  “Are you all right?” Kellyanne asks. She is genuinely concerned. Her face screws up with worry. She has an electric-blue braid in her hair today. She twirls it in her fingers. Kellyanne does this all the time but doesn’t even realise.

  Strangely, the familiar sight makes Olivia feel a little better.

  “Yeah, I’m feeling much better now, Kell.”

  “Phew,” Kellyanne says, and sits down beside Olivia. “Have you met Tannith yet? She’s new.”

  “Hi,” Tannith says. She gives Olivia an odd little look, like she is pleased about something. “I hope we can be friends.”