If Bread Could Rise to the Occasion

by Paige Shelton

  There was no answer except for the sound of laughter that floated toward me from somewhere down the street.

  I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Gram. She didn’t pick up but that wasn’t usually cause for alarm. Gram didn’t pay close attention to her phone. But when I got the same non-response from Jake, I became concerned. He paid very close attention to his phone.

  I hurried to the Nova and sped toward the school.

  There were no cars in the lot. Gram’s Volvo was gone. I’d brought Jake out earlier, so Gram might just be taking him home. From the dark lot, I tried both their cell phones again. No luck.

  Still full speed ahead, I ran to the front doors. They weren’t locked, which was alarming, but not so much that I didn’t pull them open and go inside.

  “Gram! Gram! Jake!” I said as I ventured through the front reception area, the kitchen, the classroom, and the offices. I was still spooked by finding Everett’s body inside the supply room, but I opened that door, too. There was nothing out of place.

  I stood in the hallway outside the supply room and pondered what to do next. A few seconds later I grabbed a flashlight out of a drawer in Gram’s desk and retraced my steps back outside.

  I flipped on the light and shone it toward the cemetery. “Jerome! Gram! Jake!”

  Still no answer.

  I knew that Gram had been set on finding the Cylas family’s graves. I swallowed some nervous fear and said to myself, “There’s nothing to be afraid of. No one is here. If they are, they are a ghost and can’t hurt you.”

  There were many holes in my pep talk, but I was so set on finding Gram that I ignored them.

  Down the stairs, over the rope without tripping this time, and through the cemetery I went. I shone the light on Jerome’s gravestone and noticed that the coin was still there. I’d forgotten to ask Jake if he’d been the one to put it back.

  I wasn’t wearing my hiking boots or my flip-flops this time, and I was glad for sneakers and the sure footing they gave me on the uneven ground. There were intermittent bumps and sunken spots throughout the cemetery. The oldest graves had been dug when the cemetery wasn’t as much a cemetery as it was just a spot of land where dead people were buried. There were a number of haphazardly placed and partially sunken grave markers in this oldest part, and I walked slowly and carefully through the maze to reach the edge of the woods.

  The two-lane highway that ran in front of the school and the cemetery also ran in front of the woods, and there were some streetlights along the side of the road. But the trees were so thick that barely any light could make its way inside the woods. The flashlight would have to do.

  “Okay, straight from the row with Jerome’s grave about fifty steps or so this way.”

  I trudged forward over rough ground, though it seemed as though there might have been a narrow path at one time.

  It was dark, but I was so focused on my footfalls and the ground in front of me that I didn’t notice much else, except the slaps my face and arms suffered from the stray branches along the way.

  “Forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty.” I stopped and lifted the light.

  I’d walked right into a small clearing. I didn’t think that trees had once grown there. Instead, I thought the twenty-by-twenty plot hadn’t for some reason been friendly for growing much of anything. Someone could easily come upon the clearing and think it would be a good place to set up camp, make a picnic, or perhaps bury bodies.

  “Gram! Jake! Jerome!” I still didn’t receive a response, but I was relieved I hadn’t found them in an injured state. My mind had conjured up pictures of them trekking out to the woods and then hurting themselves. Or them being hurt by someone.

  I hadn’t let it seep all the way into my consciousness, but the fact that Cliff and I had been accosted by a window presumably thrown from a building by a ghost meant that perhaps the ghosts were more dangerous than we’d ever realized. Jerome had warned me about staying away from the bakery, but if danger was at the bakery, surely it might also be at the place where the killer buried those he killed.

  But there wasn’t danger, not that I could sense at least. The clearing was dark and quiet, with no sign that Gram or Jake or Jerome had been there, but I suspected they had simply left the area as undisturbed as they’d found it.

  The rocks used as grave markers were easy to spot. Three of them bordered the edge of the clearing. There was also a pile of smaller rocks in front of each of the larger ones.

  As the light skimmed over the surfaces of the bigger markers, I thought I saw something on each of them. A closer inspection revealed that a name had been crudely carved into each big rock. Gent. Jennie. Ellen. Simple chicken scratches that brought tears to my eyes.

  The graves hadn’t been bothered. It had been a long time since they’d been dug, and from all indications, no one had searched for answers to the questions that the names on the rocks conjured.

  Somehow, we’d find a way to have them dug up, inspected, whatever was called for by professionals. It would take some manipulation and some lies probably, but I was getting closer and closer to telling Cliff about the ghosts. Having a law enforcement officer “in the know” might help with all these mysteries from the past.

  For now, though, I needed to find Gram, Jake, and Jerome.

  It was easy to see the way back to the school, its front floodlight a welcome beacon ahead. I still stepped carefully and I still got swatted by branches, but I resumed my hurried pace.

  It wasn’t completely unusual that Gram or I forgot to lock the doors, but the oversight tonight suddenly sat funny with me. We’d had a murder on the property. Gram was diligent about safety. Now that I had time to think about it, the doors being unlocked was deeply bothersome.

  I opened them again and searched the school one more time, but there was nothing out of place. I stood in the middle of the kitchen, plopped my hands on my hips and thought about where she could have gone. I tried her phone one more time.

  And I heard it ringing—in both ears.

  I pulled my cell phone away from my ear but didn’t disconnect as I searched for Gram’s phone. It was on the ground under the butcher block in the middle of the room. It might still be too soon to panic. Along with Gram not paying close attention to her phone, she’d frequently set it down and forget about it.

  I couldn’t help it, though; dread was beginning to build in my stomach. I disconnected the call and picked up the phone from the floor. I went to her call log and scrolled through. I’d called a few times, of course, but what got my attention was that she’d also received a text recently.

  It said: Meet me at the bakery. I’m scared. I know who the killer is.

  The sender attached to the text was only a phone number. The area code was 307. It took a quick Internet search on my phone to find that 307 was a Wyoming number. I wasn’t aware that any of our students came from Wyoming.

  “Oh, Gram,” I said, but I still didn’t know how upset or worried to be. I didn’t know if she’d read the text or not, if she’d gone to the bakery or not, if . . .

  I locked the school doors and then got into the Nova. I’d stay back from the building if I needed to, but if Gram was at the bakery, I didn’t want her there without me.

  Maybe that’s why the handcuffs fell. Maybe Jerome was telling me to get to the bakery.

  Or, perhaps, to remember to stay away from it.

  Chapter 24

  Gram’s Volvo was there, in the same spot both she and I had parked in over the last few days. The bakery building was dark and even more foreboding than it had been.

  “Gram,” I muttered to myself, “where are you?”

  I parked on the street, about a half block away from the building and got carefully out of the Nova.

  “Betts!”

  I looked down toward the end of the street, which was also the other end of the building and the place where the window had fallen. Jake was running along the edge of the property.

  “Stay there!” he comm
anded.

  I crossed my arms in front of myself and did as he said, but it wasn’t easy. I wanted to know what was going on and he was taking way too long to get to me.

  “Hey,” he said, breathlessly. He held the camera under his arm. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

  “I’m staying back. What is going on? Where’s Gram? Jerome?”

  “I don’t know if Jerome is still here, but Miz talked to him before she went in.”

  “She went into the bakery! Isn’t it supposed to be dangerous?”

  “That’s what I said, but she talked to Jerome and was convinced that it wasn’t dangerous for her. Just for you.”

  “Why did she go in?”

  “She wanted to tell Gent about the graves. We saw them. They were . . . sad and kind of sweet, too. Sad mostly, though. What happened to Gent and his family has been painful to her for a very long time. She wanted him to know right away just in case he needed to leave.”

  “What about the text?”

  “What text?”

  “This one.” I handed Gram’s phone to Jake.

  “If she read this, she didn’t give any indication. Hang on.” He looked at the text again and then scratched the side of his head. “According to the time it was sent, I think we were already gone from the school. I think we’d left just shortly before.”

  “Have you seen Mario?”

  “No, I haven’t seen anyone but a guy I didn’t recognize. He was just walking around. Didn’t seem to be too interested in what I was doing. Miz ran me home first to get my spare battery and told me to try to film things. I haven’t seen anything to film, but I’ve kept the camera rolling.”

  “Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

  Jake looked sheepish. “Oh, hell, Betts. I left it in the Volvo. I got such crazy results from the last time I filmed I thought there might be something messing with electrical stuff around here so I left it in the car. You tried to call, didn’t you?”

  I bit my lip but didn’t want to make Jake feel worse than he did. “Tell me what the guy looked like, the one you saw.”

  “Oh. Short guy, short hair, bright orange shirt. I remember noticing how bright it was even in the dark.”

  “Elian, our student?”

  Jake shrugged. “I haven’t met the students yet, Betts. I only know what Mario looks like because of the magazine article and meeting him here the other night.”

  “Elian. It must have been Elian. Where did he go?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Jake, call Cliff, Jim, everyone. Tell them to get here and search for Elian. Show Cliff Gram’s phone. Whatever, just get them here,” I said before I started walking toward the bakery building.

  “No! You can’t go in there, Betts!” Jake grabbed my arm and dropped the camera.

  “Jake, let go. I have to go in there. It’s Gram,” I said.

  “But she’s fine. It’s you who is in danger.”

  “Handcuffs fell, Jake. Handcuffs fell.”

  Jake shook his head. “What?”

  “Remember when I first met Jerome. I told you about the handcuffs falling in the jail?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think it was Jerome trying to communicate with Gram since he couldn’t get inside the jail. I think he tried again tonight. I think he wanted to talk to me. He’s not around so I’m assuming that he either left or is inside the bakery with Gram. If he’s in there, they need help—or I just don’t think the cuffs would have fallen. Let go of my arm, Jake.”

  “Betts,” he said weakly, but he let go of my arm.

  “Call Cliff!” I said as I ran to the building.

  I hoisted myself up to the platform and pounded on a board over the old door.

  “Gent, it’s Betts, let me in!”

  I stepped back and looked at the ground as I stepped forward again. There was no change.

  “Come on,” I muttered. “Gent!”

  I was suddenly so worried for Gram that tears started to pool in my eyes and my throat started to hurt. I took a deep breath and tried again.

  “Gent, please, let me in.”

  The world changed, from new and worn down, to just plain old-time new. The scene was similar to my two other visits. The door was intact and the plaque above it was shiny. But there was one big difference.

  The smell of smoke was suddenly overwhelming. It went beyond Jerome’s pleasant wood smoke scent to stifling.

  The door opened and Gent signaled me inside. “Everyone’s back here,” he said. But he was scared, too; scared and maybe sad.

  “Where’s Gram?” I said.

  “Back here,” he said. This time his voice was full of despair.

  I knew the smoke wasn’t real; it couldn’t be. But it was thick nonetheless. Before, I could see dim images in the background, but this time I could see only a gray haze everywhere.

  “The building’s on fire?” I said.

  “How can it be?” Gent said. “I think it’s a memory of the fire.”

  “I don’t understand. Whose memory?”

  “His.” Gent pointed.

  We’d made it to the middle of the large space, and as I looked around now, I could see the images I expected: bakery shelves, ovens against the wall, people, though everything and everyone was still surrounded by the hazy smoke.

  “It’s not real, the smoke’s not real,” I mumbled to myself, and I could actually breathe a little easier. Once we were fully in the area of activity that was defined by invisible borders, people and things were set in motion.

  “Betts!” Jennie said. She was across from me and made a move toward me, but a big man put his hand on her shoulder.

  “I don’t think so,” he said to her, his voice gravelly rough.

  He was big, like Homer, but dressed in a suit that looked like it was from the 1950s. His short, curly dark hair was mussed and his face, though handsome, was set with a scowl that was pointed my direction.

  “Who are you and why are you here?” he demanded.

  “I’m Betts Winston and I’m looking for my grandmother,” I said. “You’re Howard Knapp?”

  “I am, and I don’t understand why you’ve brought me back here. I don’t want to be here.”

  “I . . .”

  “Isabelle.”

  I hadn’t seen him—really seen him—until he spoke.

  “Jerome,” I said, relieved that he was there. “Where’s Gram?”

  He’d appeared beside me, but he stepped back now, giving me room to see that Gram was there, too.

  “No!” I exclaimed as I ran around Jerome and to Gram, who was on the ground seemingly unconscious. I fell to my knees. “Gram, Gram!” I shook her arm.

  “I hit her,” Howard said. He was standing above me now. “Maybe this time she’ll die.”

  I’d never once reached to someone’s neck to feel their pulse, but this time I did. Thankfully, I felt Gram’s. It was slow but steady and reassuringly strong.

  “You bastard,” I said. “You’re dead, you idiot! Why did you need to cause more tragedy?”

  I reached to lift Gram into my arms, but Howard put his hand on my shoulder just like he had done to Jennie.

  “You’re not going anywhere.” He pushed hard. He was strong and forceful. His grip was as real as any man alive.

  “Isabelle, listen to me,” Jerome said. He’d crouched down, too. “He can’t see me. He doesn’t know I’m here. I can get Miz out of the building now that you’re here. Remember what happens in the dark when you’re around. I can lift her now.”

  I nodded hard, hoping to indicate that he needed to get to it right away.

  “But, I won’t leave until I know you’re safe, too. Gent and his family don’t realize it yet, but, they can fight now, too. Now that you’re here. I don’t know what good it’ll do them in the long run, but it’s better than going down without at least trying.”

  I shook my head as forcefully as I’d just nodded. “I’ll get out. Just take care of her,” I begged.
r />   “Who are you talking to?” Howard said.

  “I didn’t do that to your grandmother,” a voice from a distant wall said.

  I turned to see Elian Sanchez leaning against the wall directly under a window—a window that no longer had glass panes; they’d been broken out. Elian held his hands over his thigh, but I could see blood seep through his fingers. He and the part of the building he was sitting in were still in the present time.

  “He can only see you and Miz,” Jerome said. “He’s hurt from breaking into the building. He was going to do harm to Miz but he hurt himself first. Seems the building is full of idiots this evening.”

  “You’re not taking her out of here,” Howard Knapp said to me. “I’ve set the fire. It’s only a matter of time and we’ll all be gone for good, you and your grandmother included. These secrets will never be told.”

  “Elian, why? Why did you kill Mario’s father and Roger Riggins?” I yelled. If all our secrets were in fact going down in flames, I wanted to know fully what they were.

  “I just wanted to ruin their starter. They were so successful, the whole western United States wanted their bread and . . . my family couldn’t compete. If the Gepetti starter was ruined, we might be able to have a successful business, too. I only killed Mario’s father because he caught me. Roger . . . well, he’d left a note for Mario to meet him at the school in the middle of the night. Roger must have recognized Mario and wanted to see what was going on. When Roger talked about the Gepetti incident in class, I followed him. I intercepted the note. I thought he might turn out to be a loose end. I had to get rid of him.” His voice was wavering. “Betts, I’m really hurt. Can you help me out of here?”

  “You’re last on my list,” I said, though I didn’t yell this time. He might not have heard me. I spoke up. “How did you poison him?”

  “Easy, I put the poison in Mario’s starter. I told Roger to drink it. He didn’t know it was poisoned and I had a knife on him. I thought someone might figure out that it was Mario’s starter that was missing. I thought that might throw suspicion his direction, at least briefly. Didn’t work. Come on, Betts, I know I’ll have to pay for my crimes, but I’m really hurt. Help me get out of here.”