by Diane Hoh
Never mind. She’ll learn. I saw the look on her face tonight. She’s pretending not to be scared, but it’s not working. I could see the fear in her eyes. Maybe no one else could, but it was there. That fear is there because what happened to her doesn’t make any sense. Eve is terrified of anything that can’t be explained logically. That’s really why she’s afraid. Because she just doesn’t understand.
I wonder what she’ll think when she realizes, as she will soon enough, that she’s not the only target. Others made fun, too, and like her, they must be punished. Will she be relieved when someone else suffers instead of her? Or will she be even more terrified? I wonder. It’ll be fun finding out. Seeing what she’s really made of.
Time is crucial, right? I mean, you up there, you’re only at your fullest for a little while, which means I’m only at my best for a little while. No time to waste. My goal is to teach them that they shouldn’t overlook me. Someone as special as I am should not be ignored. They are also going to learn not to make fun of things they don’t understand.
They will either learn that, or they’ll die trying.
Chapter 10
ON MONDAY MORNING, THE second thing Eve did after neatly making her bed was pull her hair away from her face and fasten it tightly with a barrette. Because Andie had said she looked “different” with it loose. She didn’t want to look different. Not now. She needed to look the same, act the same, be the same, if she was going to get through this week.
Eve’s first class on Mondays was parapsychology. Alfred was waiting for her in the doorway, as always, and took a seat beside her, opposite Serena, who was reading a magazine, and behind Andie, who was putting the finishing touches on her weekly letter to her father. She had left the room before Eve that morning so she could stop at the university post office and buy stamps.
Eve had enjoyed the walk alone. It was a beautiful morning. There wasn’t a cloud in the blue sky overhead and only a gentle breeze stirred the branches of the huge old trees lining the campus walkways. She hoped the sun was drying up the mud at the carnival site. The grounds didn’t open until two o’clock. That should be enough time.
The episode in the Mirror Maze seemed unreal in the bright morning sunshine. If it hadn’t been for the bandage on her ankle, Eve would have been convinced that she’d imagined the whole thing.
If the police had discovered anything important in their search of the maze, they would have called her. They hadn’t. So she still didn’t have a single clue to the identity of the glass-smasher who had called her by name.
She groaned inwardly when she walked down the hall and saw Alfred standing in the doorway. Why didn’t he just give up? She had given no sign, ever, that she was interested in him as anything more than a friend, yet he continued to hover over her like a lovesick bird. He called often, sent her little notes, bought candy bars for her at the bookstore and brought them to class, usually handing them to her in front of everyone so they could see his devotion.
“Well, I think he’s cute,” Andie had said when Eve complained. “If you don’t want him, I’ll take him.”
Cute? Alfred? Never. All of his features were in the right place, but he was too stiff, too polished, for “cute.” He was like a brand-new Ken doll. And Eve Forsythe was no Barbie.
“Dr. Litton,” Andie asked as class began, “why do I always have weird dreams when the moon is full?”
Snickers of derision rippled around the room.
But the professor, a tall, attractive woman with graying hair worn in a long, thick French braid, nodded. “I’ve heard that before.” She glanced around the room. “How many of you believe that the phases of the moon affect us in one way or another?”
About half the class raised a hand. Three of the hands belonged to Alfred, Andie, and Serena. If Kevin had been there instead of in the infirmary, Eve felt sure his hand would have been up, too.
Her own hands stayed on her desk. It wasn’t logical to believe that the moon could make people dream, or make them do anything else. She’d seen the werewolf movies, read the books. She thought it was all very silly. Men didn’t turn into wolves under a full moon or any kind of moon, and no one fell in love because of a round, silver ball up in the sky. She had never believed for a moment that the moon was anything but the earth’s satellite.
And she didn’t have weird dreams when the moon was full.
Other people did, it turned out, and they all began describing them while Dr. Litton listened attentively.
Those who thought it was all nonsense said so, including Eve, and the discussion became very lively.
It was still going on when class was dismissed.
“Hey, Andie,” a tall, husky, blond boy teased as they all left their desks, “the man in the moon is coming to get you tonight. Better watch out!”
Andie flushed and retorted, “You’re the one who’d better watch out, Boomer. A closed mind is a dying mind. If a fresh, new thought ever forced its way into that dried-up, shrunken little brain of yours, your entire body would go into shock.”
“The moon affects the tides,” Serena said to no one in particular. “How do we know it doesn’t affect us, too?”
They were still arguing when Eve spotted a tall, dark-haired figure lounging against the wall opposite the open classroom door. Garth.
Eve picked up her books and left with the rest of the class. Not sure that Garth actually was waiting for her, she intended to simply give him a casual wave as she walked by. But he joined her before she had a chance to wave, erasing any uncertainty.
A glum Alfred remained stubbornly at Eve’s side, glaring at Garth.
Ignoring Alfred as they all walked down the hall, Garth said to Eve, “I just wanted to make sure we were okay. I mean, we never finished our discussion last night, did we? I’d have hung around, but you looked like you really needed to crash in your room. Feeling better?”
“You don’t have to worry about her,” Alfred said before Eve could answer. “She has people to look out for her.”
Eve shot him an irritated look. “I don’t need anyone looking out for me,” she said, forgetting for the moment that the previous afternoon in the maze she would have been grateful for just that. “I can take care of myself.” To Garth, she said, “I’m fine. Thanks for asking. Why aren’t you at work?”
“I have Mondays off. I thought maybe you could use some help at the carnival this afternoon. And I wanted to know if you’d heard anything from the police about the maze. Did they find anything? Any clues?”
Although they had just left the building and walked out into bright sunshine and a beautiful, balmy day, Eve felt a chill down her spine when Garth mentioned the maze. “Nope. Nothing yet. I guess they’ll call me when they know something.”
They walked in silence across the Commons, a wide, green expanse of lawn where a few students were tossing Frisbees. Behind them, Andie and Serena continued to argue heatedly with Boomer and his friends about the effect of a full moon on earthlings.
“You don’t believe in anything that you can’t see with your own eyes?” Andie was saying in a loud voice. “Well, I haven’t seen you actually make a touchdown yet, Boomer.”
Loud hoots and laughter at Boomer’s expense followed.
“What’s all the arguing about?” Garth asked as they approached the science building where Eve’s next class was held.
“Nothing,” Eve answered. “Nothing important, anyway. It’s leftover from our parapsychology class. Some of them think paranormal stuff is actually normal. We argue about it all the time.”
Garth hummed the Twilight Zone theme song. “You mean like someone bending metal spoons with their mind, and ESP, stuff like that?”
Eve nodded, and glanced over at him as they arrived at the art building. “You don’t believe in that stuff, do you?”
“I believe in everything. Until someone proves to me that it’s not possible. And no one’s done that yet.” He grinned down at her. “Are you about to do it now? Enlighten m
e?”
“No. I don’t care enough about any of it to prove that it doesn’t exist.” Afraid that she had sounded too much like her mother again, Eve hastily added, “I mean, I’ve got a lot of other stuff to think about right now.”
“So, I repeat my offer to help. I’ll be back at two. Meet you on the grounds, in front of the Ferris wheel.” Garth glanced up at the sky. “It’s not going to rain. That’s a good omen, right?”
Eve frowned. Omens again. What was it with people? Why couldn’t they just deal with reality? So it wasn’t going to rain. The only thing that meant was that they weren’t going to get wet. And yes, that was a good thing. But it wasn’t a sign that the carnival was going to be a raging success. There was a lot more to running the Founders’ Day celebration than weather.
“We don’t need you,” Alfred insisted as Garth turned to leave.
“I didn’t say you did. I just said I’d be there. And I will.”
When he had gone, Alfred held the door open for Eve, saying, “What are you letting him hang around for? He’s not even on the committee.”
“In case you’ve forgotten, Alfred,” Eve said firmly, “we were rained out early last night. That’s not good. We lost money. We need to make that up today if we’re going to come out ahead. So I’m not turning down any offers for help.”
After her classes, she stopped at the infirmary to check on Kevin. He was still bruised and sore, but promised he’d be back on his feet by Wednesday. “How’d class go this morning?” he asked.
Eve knew he was talking about Dr. Litton’s class. He hated missing it.
Eve sat in a wooden chair beside Kevin’s bed. “The usual. Andie started an argument about the moon, of all things. You can borrow my notes if you want.”
“Ah, the full moon. I saw it through my window last night. Not quite there, but almost.” He smiled knowingly at Eve. “No need to ask which side you were on. The side of practical reality, no doubt.”
Eve wasn’t sure why that stung, but it did. “You make being practical sound almost like a crime,” she snapped.
“Not a crime. It’s just … well, you never know, Eve. Maybe it’s a mistake to dismiss things you don’t understand until you’ve explored them some.”
Almost exactly what Garth had said. Kevin would like Garth. “The only thing I’m going to explore right now,” she said, standing up, “is the carnival site. We need a really good afternoon, so keep your fingers crossed, okay?”
He grinned up at her. “Just a silly superstition?”
Eve couldn’t help laughing. She told him to get better fast, waved, and left.
Just as she’d hoped, the sun had dried the mud from last night’s rain. Maybe that was a good sign.
Taking a deep breath, she hurried over to the Mirror Maze and, hands shaking slightly, hung an OUT OF ORDER sign on the booth. Then she turned quickly and hurried away.
The afternoon was a rousing success for the Founders’ Day carnival. Beautiful weather brought both students and townspeople out in huge numbers. Eve stayed busy making the rounds, checking to make sure there was enough food in the food booths, money for change at the game booths, and that the rides were in working order.
Garth showed up shortly after two, and Eve didn’t complain when he made the rounds with her. It gave them a chance to talk, and she was pretty sure no one would try to hurt her while Garth was at her side.
The afternoon went by quickly. The committee met in the food tent at twilight to eat a quick meal and discuss any problems. There were none. The crowds were good, the weather perfect, and only a handful of people had complained about the Mirror Maze being shut down.
Over coffee, Eve felt herself relaxing. Maybe it was going to be a success, after all. Maybe they’d make enough money to make a huge donation to Alice’s scholarship fund.
When they finished dinner, she was able to say, “Back to work!” cheerfully. “I want to check out the games again. Don’s manning the dart booth, and he was worried about running out of prizes.”
Alfred and Garth wanted to go with her, but Eve was getting tired of being escorted everywhere. She felt relaxed enough to dismiss them, telling them she had better things for them to do. She sent Alfred to the Ferris wheel to make sure all was well, and Garth to the Devil’s Elbow. Both protested, but Eve ignored them. She wasn’t a child. She didn’t need protectors.
Serena promised to check the food booths now that the evening crowd was arriving, and Andie went off to freshen her makeup, promising to meet Eve at the dart booth. Eve struck out across the carnival grounds on her own.
Darkness had fallen while they were in the food tent. The garish yellow bulbs on the Ferris wheel spun around in a hazy glow, and the nearly full moon lit up a black velvet sky. Laughter and music and the smell of hot dogs, popcorn, and cotton candy filled the air around her as Eve made her way to the dart booth. A clown, dressed in the same costume Garth had worn the day before, passed her, carrying a huge bouquet of brightly colored balloons. People called out as she went by, “Great carnival, Eve!” “Good job, Eve!” She’d heard those words many times before, and they gave her the same sense of warmth they always had.
But … this was only Monday. The whole week lay ahead of her, stretching out in front of her like a sleeping snake, peaceful enough now but ready to strike at any moment.
There was a large, noisy crowd in front of the dart booth. Inside, Boomer, the football player who had argued with Andie that morning, was taking his turn playing “target.” He was standing at the rear of the booth with an apple on his head. The darts had harmless, rubber suction tips. If the customer’s aim was accurate, the apple would have as many as five thick black darts protruding from it.
Boomer’s huge bulk nearly filled the booth. Eve had had to promise to help him with two term papers to get him to participate. He was laughing now, the shiny red apple perched on the top of his blond head.
Reluctant to push through the crowd, Eve went around instead to the back of the booth and lifted the canvas flap.
She crouched near the ground, afraid that if she stood up, she’d distract the customer, a boy named Tony Paris.
Tony concentrated on his aim. The first four darts he threw smacked into the apple and held. The crowd of friends around him cheered. One more successful throw, and he’d win a prize.
Tony raised his arm to take aim again.
Eve watched as the fifth dart hit the air. Its aim seemed accurate. It was heading straight for Boomer who, taunting Tony, stood perfectly still, his powerful body a can’t-miss target against the canvas.
Eve peered more closely. There was something wrong.
There were two darts aiming straight at Boomer.
But … one had no round, fat suction cup on its tip. And what was there instead made Eve’s blood stop flowing.
A metal tip. She saw, heading straight for Boomer, a sharp, wicked-looking, pointed metal tip, the very kind she’d been so careful not to order. “No,” she had told the carnival supply people, “not that kind. Not real darts. We want the other kind, the rubber suction cup-tipped ones. We don’t want anyone getting hurt.”
“We don’t want anyone getting hurt” … she had said that. She clearly remembered saying that.
But someone was going to get hurt, anyway.
Eve opened her mouth to scream, knowing it was already too late.
Chapter 11
IT WAS TOO LATE.
Even as Eve opened her mouth to scream a warning, even as Boomer realized that there were two missiles flying toward him and that one was not what it was supposed to be, the metal point, sharp as an icepick, slammed into the middle of his chest. It penetrated his thin white T-shirt, impaling itself just above his rib cage.
At the same time, Tony’s harmless rubber-tipped dart slapped up against the apple. But no one was looking at it. All eyes were on Boomer’s chest.
There were gasps and shrieks from the crowd. Then shock struck everyone dumb and an appalled silence fell.<
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A tiny spot of bright red encircled the dart protruding from Boomer’s chest and began spreading.
He looked down, the expression on his face one of total bewilderment. The apple rolled off his head and fell to the ground, bouncing several times before it rolled to rest at Eve’s feet. Still open-mouthed, her eyes left Boomer and focused on the apple, as if it might have some answers for her.
It didn’t.
When she pulled herself to her feet and looked at Boomer again, he was still standing. His face wore that same hurt, bewildered look, but his skin was ashen. He placed his hands around the dart gently, carefully, as if he needed to make sure that it was actually implanted in his body. Then he swayed, just a little, took a half-step backward, and slowly, like someone deciding they’ve been standing long enough and might like to sit down for a while now, slid to a sitting position on the ground, his back against the canvas.
Eve ran to him, knelt beside him, took his wrist, feeling for a pulse. When she found it, it was weak and thready.
“Don’t remove the dart!” a voice she recognized as Garth’s warned from behind her. “Leave it in place. If you take it out, he could bleed to death.”
Eve had no intention of removing the dart. She could no more have pulled it from Boomer’s chest than she could have put it there in the first place. “Ambulance,” she whispered to Garth, and he barked the order over his shoulder.
The crowd of witnesses began shouting then, and pushing and shoving to see over the counter. Other people, noticing the commotion, joined them, until the crowd had swollen to three times its original size. In a fog of shock, her heart pounding in fear for Boomer, Eve half-heard questions being tossed back and forth. “What’s going on? Who’s hurt? Is that Boomer? Oh, God, he’s bleeding! What happened? Is he dead?”