by M. F. Lorson
It didn’t take long to find Wanda’s locker. All of the lockers were fixed to the side wall and 201 was dead center. I pulled the garden shears from my waistband. Robyn had done good, Wanda’s lock wasn’t very strong. All I had to do was squeeze the dickens out of those shears and the lock dropped to the floor. The clang was thunderous but I didn’t hear anyone moving in my direction. I felt like one of those wind up toys. Someone had cranked me up as far as I could go and now I was just steadily plodding through the motions. Toss lock, remove jewelry trays, open tray, examine tray. Only by the fourth tray I began to get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. So far nothing resembled what Robyn had described. Each necklace was clasped by a hand soldered toggle. Wanda had made each one specifically to fit the necklace or bracelet it belonged to. Robyn’s necklace had a delicate white gold butterfly clasp and thus far I hadn’t seen one. Nor had there been a sapphire, the central stone on Robyn’s missing necklace. Wanda used beads, metal coiling and it appeared that each of her pendants were hand crafted from materials that she had either found on campus or could be found in the free for all bins in the back of the room. I went through tray five but like I expected Robyn’s necklace was not there. I carefully replaced all of the trays but it didn’t matter how nicely I put things back. I had cut the lock. Even without taking anything Wanda was going to know someone had been in there. Our whole safety clause had been based on the theory that Wanda couldn’t report the break in without admitting to having stolen the necklace in the first place. Now there was no proving she took it and there was likely to be an examination as to who broke into her locker. I turned to leave when the light to the jewelry room flickered, once, twice, then on. My heart was pounding out of my chest. All of the worrying I had done about Wanda finding her broken lock and I had forgotten to listen for someone in the corridor.
I didn’t want to turn around. But I couldn’t stay facing the wall forever. I expected an art student, worst case scenario Ariel. What I hadn’t expected was to find myself face to face with Jordan.
Chapter 14
“You’re a thief”
“No, it's not what it looks like.”
“It’s not? You didn’t just cut the lock on someone’s personal property?” I still held the garden shears in one hand.
“I didn’t take anything.” I said, my voice timid from the combination of shame and fear. I didn’t want to cry but the worst was happening. I was being caught and not by some random stranger who thought the worst of me by default. By Jordan, someone I wanted to respect me, probably more and now he was going to believe I was shallow, selfish and stupid, and why shouldn’t he? Hadn’t I done everything possible to make myself that person? He probably thought I orchestrated our entire friendship just to set up this moment. Just to ensure that if I did get caught I wouldn’t be in trouble. As if I was dumb enough to think that the little time we had spent together was enough to make him risk his job just to keep me out of trouble.
“I don’t get you Kate. What could possibly be worth risking expulsion? I’ve never even seen you wear jewelry. Unless you count that hideous watch.” I didn’t know what to say anymore. I was lost with no one to reach out to. “I have to report you. You know that right? And quite frankly I’m not gonna lose any sleep doing it. Why did you waste all of that time training with me when you're clearly more interested in getting out of here than you are sticking around.”
I wanted to say something, the right thing whatever that was, but all I could think about was how I must have looked when that light switch came on, how he must have felt when I lied the night before. “You don’t have to bother answering Kate. At this point I truly don’t care. This is going to be a pile of paperwork. You can see yourself out. Oh and Kate, you might as well take whatever you were looking for because at this point you’ll be expelled with or without it.” Jordan spun on his heels and headed for the door. The way I figured it I had about five seconds to make him change his mind.
“Wait!”
“For what? You can’t manipulate this stuff with you and me just to get yourself out of trouble. Maybe it worked for you at home. Finding some poor sap to help you with your homework every night. Seems to work great on Hayden but if your plan was to charm and disarm me you did a lousy job. I caught you all but shoving the loot in your pockets. There’s no woe is me story you can tell that’s gonna make me forget that.”
“Maybe not” I countered “But I believed you once. When there was no reason to. When anyone who saw what I saw would have assumed the worst. I believed you so the least you can do is hear me out.” The anger on Jordan’s face subsided, not entirely but enough to open the door for me to keep going. There was no easy explanation and there was no abridged version. So I did what had to be done. I told him all of it, from how Sydney had taken the fall for Robyn to how I had promised to help her, because losing her wasn’t an option. He listened for a long time, pacing nervously, never looking at me but never interjecting either. Over the course of my story I watched his expression changed from anger and frustration to concern.
“I wish you would have told me about this.” He said.
“You never would have let us go through with it.”
“Of course I wouldn’t!”
I shrugged. “See!”
“ But not for the reasons you think. This whole thing is piss-poor planning. Didn’t you think about what would happen if you didn’t find the necklace?” I looked down, heat rising in my cheeks.
‘No”
“And what made you so sure she had it anyway”
“She’s a bully!” I cried “And if that’s not reason enough her skill is jewelry making. Robyn’s seen her admiring it. It made sense.”
“It only made sense because you made assumptions about Wanda. You hardly know her yet you were ready to label her a thief, just because what? You don’t like her?”
“It sounds bad when you put it that way.”
“It sounds bad because it is bad.” Jordan ran his hands through his hair. Shaking his head in confusion. “I don’t know Kate, maybe if I were in your position I would have thought the same way.”
“No, you wouldn’t have, but thanks for saying it anyway. You were right the whole plan was stupid.” Jordan eased into a smile.
“You're assuming things again. I’m not perfect you know. I don’t always know what to do. I can tell you this stuff because I’ve been here for three years that’s all.” I nodded.“I don’t want to preach at you” He looked uneasy, like he was holding something back.
“But?”
“But I think you should think deeper about the people you spend your time with.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s nothing, it's just, Wanda may be a bully but she’s not the one that talked you into breaking an entry tonight.” I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. I didn’t need to hear it. I’d been thinking that for days now. Hearing it from someone else only made it more real. I wanted to trust Robyn but so far my friendship with her had resulted in a series of close calls. I gestured to the trash can and the clippers in my hand.
“What am I going to do about this. I’m completely screwed.” Jordan laughed.
“Not this time you aren’t.” He walked over to the materials area, where he pulled out a new lock set. “There are only five lock sets issued to students. The locks are to keep the janitors out not the students. Come find the type she was using and replace it. She’ll never know the difference.” I smiled so big I thought my face would crack. It had been a long week and for the first time all night I felt like everything would be fine. I knew I was crossing a line but I didn’t care. Jordan had done nothing but help me. From that first day at orientation to now I had been able to count on him whether I deserved it or not. I rushed across the room, wrapping my arms around his waist and leaning in. “Thank you.” I said. “I , I just want to thank you.” For a second he didn’t move and I was pretty sure I had freaked him out. But soon the tension left
his body and he was leaning into me, with ease, his chin resting on my head.
“It’s no big deal.” He said quietly. I couldn’t tell if it was really happening or if I was just imagining it but I thought I felt his lips brush my hair. Staying like this forever seemed like a really good idea. But I pulled away instead, not wanting to let the moment go from something special to something awkward. Jordan quickly made himself busy, replacing the lock and tucking the broken one into his pocket. His face was flushed and he was more nervous than usual so I didn’t say too much to distract him. Though I couldn’t help but feel that his nerves were a good indicator that I wasn’t the only one that felt a little something beyond mentoring in that hug.
It was a silent agreement but Jordan walked me back to barrack A. I never saw Robyn, not near the building where she was supposed to be and nowhere else either. Jordan’s warning about her was beginning to feel eerily accurate. The walk back felt longer than usual. All I could think was that Robyn had abandoned me on a mission I was on solely for her benefit. What kind of friend did that? I decided I wouldn’t tell her jack about what happened inside until she gave me a damn good excuse for running out on me. By the time I got back to the barracks it was five minutes to curfew. Sydney was in her usual spot on the front porch. Every night she guarded the front steps. Keeping the boys out and the girls in, till lights out anyway. In the entire time I had been there no one had challenged curfew. Sydney stood up immediately when she saw us.
“Robyn’s not with you?” she asked frantically. Jordan and I looked at one another. Neither of us knew what this meant.
“No” Said Jordan looking quickly from Sydney to me.
“She hasn’t been here all night” cried Sydney. “ I thought for sure she was with you two or I would have gone looking for her.” Sydney’s hands were shaking. “I can’t take another strike for her.” The three of us stood motionless, clueless as to what we should do or say. We didn’t have to wait long. Sydney wouldn’t have an opportunity to get in trouble tonight. Because somewhere on campus someone was in far more trouble than her. A loud wail broke out across the courtyard. I knew that sound. I knew that tall rotating blue light. We all did. Because after Wanda got attacked Ms. Lewis made every girl on campus try it once. The blue light phone was a tall pole with a rotating blue light at the top. Picking up the receiver and hitting the main button put a direct call in to 911. Within seconds Sydney and Jordan were off in dead sprint. I wanted to follow but I got the feeling I wasn’t allowed and I wasn’t pushing my luck tonight anymore than I already had. The siren worked like an alert system, like tornado warnings in the south or tsunami alerts at the coast. Only instead of people gathering indoors the whole campus seemed to be coagulating outside. The porch of barrack A was coated with teenage girls and in the distance we could just make out the shape of similar scenes on the porches of B and C. The phone that had been activated was directly in front of the art building. I wanted to believe everything would be fine and the location of the alarm was merely a coincidence but I knew better. Robyn wasn’t back yet. What had she done, went in for the necklace herself? Was it possible that she was gone from her position just long enough to miss Jordan’s entrance but catch our exit? Did she assume I saw Jordan and aborted the mission? It could have looked that way. Or what it if it was worse? What if this had nothing to do with our operation? What if she was really hurt, what if she were attacked while I stood feet away from her worried about whether or not my crush thought I was an awkward hugger? For hours we stood on the porch. At one am Sydney returned, tired, eyes puffy and rimmed with red. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to, we all took it as our cue to go to bed. For the first night in two months, Robyn wasn’t in the cot beside me.
Chapter 15
“I’ll go with you.” I said.
“How is it a dare if you go with me?”
“Have it your way. I’ll stay on this side of the fence. I can be your lookout.”
Chelsea bit her bottom lip. I knew she was afraid even before she told me . She had the same look on her face she did on report card day.
“No….come with me.” she pleaded. I stifled an urge to tease her. The whole stupid thing was her idea and now she needed me to hold her hand to go through with it. The two of us quietly crawled over the fence. It wasn’t too tall. If we did get caught we would probably have enough adrenaline to hop the thing so long as we had a running start. Well, I could anyway. Chelsea was athletically challenged at best.
Chelsea had come up with the plan a few weeks ago while we were lounging in the fort. It wasn’t much of a fort really. Just a platform in the trees from the summer we tried to build a treehouse but ran out of wood. We had built it as far from our houses as possible, the very outskirts of the woods. Problem was, two years ago they had put in a housing development. It wasn’t a huge development, just five houses dotting the landscape but it meant our view of the sunset had become the backside of other people’s property. We still went there though. Because despite the ease at which the new neighbors could peer up and see us we enjoyed the ease at which we could peer down and see them.
People watching became a bit of a sport for us. The elderly couple in the house on the end didn’t come outside much but the ambulance was a regular visitor in their driveway. Sometimes we made bets about whether or not one of them would come out on a stretcher. Most of the time the EMT’s left empty handed, which I guess was good for Mr. and Mrs. Likely to Croak. A pair of twin eight year old boys lived directly in front of the fort. They shot dirt clods at us with their dollar store sling shots. They sucked. We frequently plotted revenge but never found the motivation to act. They were a lousy shot anyway.
Our favorite resident however, was the man in the big blue house. Sometimes he mowed the lawn with his shirt off. It was excellent! Aside from that he primarily yelled at his wife who seemed to have a never ending laundry list of reasons he wasn’t getting enough done. The funny thing was she was right. She would yell at him to prune the roses, dead head the rhododendrons, weed the flower beds etc. and he would holler back “I’m working on it.” but he rarely ever worked on it. Instead, he would disappear into the potting shed, allegedly gathering tools..but he never remembered to bring the tools back out with him. He would be gone for twenty, sometimes thirty minutes and still come out empty handed. It wasn’t just spring and summer. Even in the winter he traipsed back and forth from the potting shed to the house. Sometimes bringing something out with him, never bringing something back in.
After a good six months of studying the people in the housing development Chelsea started getting bolder. Suddenly it wasn’t enough to watch them from the trees, we had to be closer “To see their secrets.” She wanted to know everything, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to know the things that people hide. Who were we to look inside their lives? The last thing I wanted was for someone to peer in at me the way we did them. I knew what they would see. A big pile of fake smiles and empty heads, pizza too many times a week, a dad who was absent too many times a week and a girl who could barely claw her way through sixth grade math. The way I saw it the things that happened in the privacy of people's homes belonged there.
So when Chelsea told me that she wanted to get revenge on the twins, I said no. When she wanted to peek inside the sliding doors of the Soon to Croaks “To see if they were bedridden, or on an oxygen tank, or the loopy sort that wander aimlessly at night.” I said no. But when she asked to see what was in the potting shed, I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to know just as bad as she did. We knew it was wrong, none of our business, invasive even, but curiosity is a dangerous thing.
We had plenty of theories about what was actually in there. Some more realistic than others. For example, we sometimes hypothesized that he kept a trunk full of dirty magazines in the shed and sometimes we came up with wild possibilities, like he was raising a family of penguins, just like the dude in Mr. Popper’s Penguins, our supporting evidence being that he entered regularly to manage the
thermostat. At thirteen you can still have fantasies like that without being labeled a nut job. We knew it was much more likely to be dirty magazines than it was penguins but we hoped for the penguins. How great would it be if he was as magically sensitive as he was good looking?
It wasn’t yet dark enough to worry our parents but it was dim enough to hop the fence without raising suspicion. We were lucky in that the shed backed up to a row of small trees. Once over the fence we could blend right into them. There was a window on the backside of the potting shed, it was low enough that the trees made it impossible to see through from our fort, but also low enough that we didn’t need a ladder to peer in. Together we pressed our hands against the windowsill, careful not to make any noise, as we leaned in close enough to see inside the darkened shed. It was no use. The inside was pitch black. I couldn’t make out the shape of the walls let alone the things inside. Chelsea shrugged beside me.
She said something then, a whisper, words I can’t remember to this day because all I could hear was the high pitched wail of a paralyzing scream. A voice so filled with terror that I couldn’t move. It took seconds for me to realize the scream was my own, longer for me to understand why it was me, and longer still for the two of us to will ourselves to run. The girl in the window stared back at us, face streaked with dirt, swollen with bruises and begging with eyes that squinted at the very hint of light. I don’t know how long I would of stood there screaming if it weren’t for the porch light that flickered on as the man in the big blue house scurried across the yard. It was Chelsea that saved me then. Chelsea that clapped her hand over my mouth and heaved me like a bag of potatoes over the fence.