Don't Die, Dragonfly

by Linda Joy Singleton

  So I’d lied to Nona, insisting that I’d outgrown my “gift.” It took some convincing, but she eventually believed me. If I told her the truth now, she’d never trust me again, and she’d be deeply hurt.

  I couldn’t bear that.

  So I whispered a plea to my spirit guide to make all the weirdness go away. Then I took the cordless phone into my room and shut the door.

  I wanted to talk to Josh, but knew he was busy with his family this weekend. Instead, I made my weekly calls home, which felt wonderfully normal. I had a quick talk with Dad who could be found at his office even on Saturday. Then I made a call to my sisters—Ashley was out with friends, so I talked to Amy. She had a collection of vintage girl series books and described the entire plot of her newest addition, a dust-jacketed copy of Swamp Island Mystery. She was explaining how the author also wrote some original Nancy Drews when I heard my mother’s voice in the background. But I didn’t ask to speak to her, nor did she ask to speak to me. There was nothing to say.

  I’d barely hung up when Penny-Love called, wanting to know all about my date with Josh. I was delighted to tell her. I was describing “the kiss” in delicious detail, when Penny-Love had a call waiting beep and left me on hold. Seconds later, she came back, apologetic because she had to go to a cheer practice.

  “We’ll talk later,” she promised.

  “Not till Monday,” I complained. “You’re always so busy.”

  “So come with me to the cheer club meeting tomorrow night at Jill’s house.”

  “But I’m not a cheerleader.”

  “When did that ever matter? You’re practically part of the squad, like a mascot.”

  “I’ve seen the mascot costumes—and no way am I dressing up like a shark.”

  “You have a point.” Penny-Love laughed. “The costumes are really lame. Lucky for you, there’s no costume required to hang with us. And you’re so artistic, the group will be thrilled to have your help. Say you’ll come.”

  “Okay, okay.” I laughed at her. “I’ll come.”

  After hanging up, I wandered into the kitchen for a snack. I’d skipped breakfast and it was past time for lunch. A PLT—pickle, lettuce, and tomato—sandwich sounded good. Or maybe some clam chowder?

  While I tried to decide, I noticed the egg carton where I left it on the counter. I’d meant to put it in the refrigerator. I started to pick it up when I heard a crash from the back of the house.

  Worried about Nona, I set the carton down and ran out of the kitchen. When I entered my grandmother’s office, I found her digging through her closet, with her rear stuck up in the air.

  “Nona, are you okay?” I asked, coming up beside her.

  “Yes. This is just so frustrating!” My grandmother tossed a box on the floor beside me and swore under her breath.

  “What?”

  “I can’t find the notebook where I wrote down my computer password.” She shuffled through a folder, then tossed that aside, too.

  “Don’t you know the password by memory?”

  “I did until yesterday when I updated my computer and changed the password. Then I wrote it down in a blue notebook, just in case I forgot.”

  “And you forgot?”

  “I thought it was ‘cupid,’ but that turned out to be an old password. So I tried ‘sonnet,’ ‘valentine,’ and ‘sweetheart.’ None worked! Where did I put my notebook?” She sank wearily into her swivel desk chair. “I even consulted my crystals and the tarot, but that didn’t help either.”

  “You don’t need the other side, Nona. I’m here for you.”

  “Thanks, sweetie. All my client information is on my computer. I’m ruined if I can’t access my files. I know I put the notebook in a safe, dark place where I wouldn’t lose it—only now I have.”

  I patted her arm reassuringly. “We’ll find it.”

  But after checking every folder, drawer, shelf, and scrap of paper, we didn’t.

  I was ready to go against everything I believed in—or didn’t want to believe in—and ask Opal for help. But before I got a chance, Nona suggested we put the search on hold and have lunch. When we entered the kitchen, I spotted the egg carton still on the counter where I’d left it.

  “You’re not the only one who forgets things,” I told my grandmother with a wry smile. “I better put it away.”

  I pulled open the refrigerator door. Then I stared in astonishment. I couldn’t help myself—I started laughing.

  “What is it?” Nona demanded.

  “Look!” I pointed inside the refrigerator where a blue spiral-bound book was propped between a blueberry jam jar and a catsup bottle.

  I’d found Nona’s missing notebook.

  Shake it, shake it, rattle and roll.

  Win, win, win! That’s our goal.

  Penny-Love and Jill jumped high, waving their poms, then slid down in perfect splits.

  “That was great!” I said, applauding from the garage floor where I was on my knees painting a large letter H in shades of red, white, and blue on a poster. Adding a patriotic theme was my idea, and I was glad the others approved.

  Jill’s house was in a subdivision near the school, about a mile from Nona’s farmhouse. Since we were having a mild October, I’d walked over instead of driving.

  I enjoyed hanging out with such energetic, hard-working girls. Cheerleaders weren’t the fluff-brains I used to think, but seriously dedicated athletes. I admired that, but no way did I want to wave poms or do the splits in front of crowds. Watching from the sidelines suited me fine.

  Four members of the Sheridan Spirit Squad were present: Penny-Love, Jill, Catelynn, and Kaitlyn. They all wore sweats and Tshirts, except for Penny-Love who never dressed down, not even when she planned to paint. She’d twisted her wild red hair into twin French braids and wore a high-cut purple stretch top that showed off the diamond pierced into her bellybutton.

  “You’re a great audience, Sabine,” Jill said with a flash of her pearly smile. She was team captain and brilliant at creating new routines. “It still needs work, but we can practice later. It’s more important to finish the posters.”

  “This one’s almost done.” I said as I dipped my brush into the red paint and filled in the outline of the letter H.

  “I got more paint on myself than the poster,” Catelynn complained as she held out a long strand of her blue-splattered brunette hair. “I’m a disgusting mess.”

  “That for sure,” her best friend Kaitlyn teased. Although Catelynn and Kaitlyn shared a name, they were total opposites. Perfectionist Catelynn was often critical, while Kaitlyn had a kooky sense of humor.

  “We’re all a mess, but it’ll wash off,” Jill said.

  “But Catelynn is the worst,” Kaitlyn pointed out. “She looks like a rainbow exploded on her.”

  Jill giggled. “True. Catelynn, you even have paint in your ears.”

  “Anyone got a camera?” Penny-Love asked. “This would make a great front-page shot for the Shout-Out.”

  “Or I could give Manny a call—among his many duties, he’s also the staff photographer,” I said.

  “Don’t you dare!” Catelynn protested. “Or I’ll wipe paint all over you.”

  “Okay, okay,” Kaitlyn said with a giggle. “Truce.”

  “I was just kidding,” I added. “I wouldn’t really call Manny.”

  “Too bad,” Jill said with a sigh. “Oh-So-Fine Manny is welcome here anytime.”

  “I just love his column,” Kaitlyn added. “He did a great job on that ten-year-in-the-future article. I’d love for him to write about my future.”

  I smiled, used to these sort of comments by now. Manny didn’t care what anyone thought of him, dressed and acted exactly as he pleased, and instead of being an outsider, he got respect.

  “I chose these earrings because Mystic Manny says green is lucky this week.” Jill pointed to her jade earrings.

  Kaitlyn grinned. “I wouldn’t mind getting lucky with him.”

  “He’s too full of
himself for my taste.” Penny-Love wiped her nose, leaving a streak of green paint. “Sabine’s the lucky one. She’s got the coolest guy at school drooling for her. Guess who she went out with Friday night?”

  “Josh DeMarco. You already told us, Pen,” Jill said, rolling her eyes. “And they doubled with Evan and his latest.”

  “Her name’s Danielle,” I said with a prickle of anxiety.

  “Don’t know the girl.” Catelynn gave a dismissive shrug. “And the way Evan Marshall jumps from one girl to another, she won’t last long anyway.”

  “I hope you’re wrong.” The anxious feeling grew, stabbing like needles. “Danielle is very sweet and terribly in love. I’d hate to see her hurt.”

  “It’s gonna happen,” Catelynn said as she wiped paint off her hands with a rag. “Face it, Sabine. You haven’t gone to Sheridan long enough to know about Evan Marshall, but we know how he works. He’s a player. ‘Moving On Marsh’ they call him.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “At least you’ve got nothing to worry about with Josh,” Penny-Love assured. “He’s as good as they come.”

  “So why does he hang around a jerk like Evan?”

  “Because their parents have been friends forever and they live next door to each other,” Penny-Love explained. “Evan runs over people like a bulldozer, but Josh doesn’t seem to notice.”

  “I noticed,” I said, remembering how Evan made all the decisions on our date. And he hadn’t seemed very friendly to me, either, like I wasn’t important.

  “Josh can only see the good side of people,” Penny-Love continued. “He’s always volunteering for charities and helping out on school committees. He’s kind of idealistic, wanting to help people and change the world.”

  “No one can do that,” Catelynn said with a skeptical sniff.

  I wanted to argue with Catelynn, except I was afraid she was right.

  My head throbbed, and the rainbow I was painting blurred. A wave of dizziness swelled over me, and I doubled over in agony. The brush slipped from my fingers as swirling paint came alive, circling around me, wings flapping. I saw a vivid image of a dragonfly fluttering out of Jill’s house, down the street, zooming into Sheridan High and disappearing into a dark-red pool of blood.

  Danger.

  Hurry.

  My heart sped up and fear filled my throat like bile.

  I wanted to ignore this vision, but even with my eyes open, the bloody dragonfly fluttered in warning. I had no idea what I was supposed to do; I just knew that if I did nothing, something terrible would happen.

  To Danielle.

  It was insane to rush off without even taking the time to wash the paint from my hands, making up an excuse so dumb they must all think I’m crazy. But if I could help someone this time, maybe that would make up for past mistakes. I had to try at least.

  Clouds had blown in, darkening the dusk sky, giving me shivers. I’d forgotten how early night fell this time of year. The deserted sidewalk was only partly lit up by an occasional street lamp. When I reached the entrance to Sheridan High, I hesitated, afraid to leave the safety of the street. But I did it anyway, and I started across the schoolyard. A single yellow light illuminated the entrance, casting dark shadows.

  If I’d stopped to think, I would have realized all the reasons why I shouldn’t be doing this. I was trespassing. I had no actual proof that Danielle was in trouble. Even if she were, how could I help her? I tried to think of some skill I had that might be useful if I had to defend Danielle or myself. I’d taken fencing lessons at my last school, but I didn’t exactly carry a foil around in my backpack.

  The vision of a bloody dragonfly pushed me forward, urging me to rattle locked doors until I found one that was open. At the end of a hall, I debated whether to keep going or turn down a side corridor. An invisible leash yanked me forward, so I kept going straight. I passed my homeroom, the library, then made a left turn down a hall I’d never before noticed.

  Darkness closed in, and I longed for one of my nightlights. My teeth were clenched tight to keep from chattering. At the end of the hall, I saw a tiny light. Was it a ghost or a reflection from one of the windows? Light bobbed back and forth, illuminating a figure holding a flashlight. Not a ghost, but a girl. Even with her long hair tucked underneath a cap, I recognized Danielle. Her light disappeared with her inside a room.

  Follow her, I heard Opal order.

  “Easy for you to say.” I whispered to myself.

  She needs help.

  “I could use some help, too—and answers. Like what am I doing here?”

  Hurry, was all Opal said before I felt her fade away.

  I was too curious to turn around, so I slipped deeper into the hallway. Feeling along the wall, I stopped when I found a doorway. I saw a flicker of light and peered inside.

  Danielle had entered a storage room. She aimed a small flashlight at a filing cabinet as she rifled through the top drawer. She seemed to know exactly what she was looking for. But I didn’t have a clue, and Opal was totally AWOL. Why was Danielle sneaking around at night?

  She moved to another drawer in the cabinet. In the faint light, I caught a glimpse of her face. Her eyes were determined. After a few minutes, she groaned with frustration and slammed this drawer shut. Then she yanked open another drawer and began searching all over again.

  “Where?” I heard her say. “Where did he put it?”

  She shoved the drawer and it shut with a metallic clank. I jumped, glancing over my shoulder nervously. I saw nothing except darkness in the hall, but my skin tingled and I had a creepy feeling.

  When I glanced at Danielle again, she had moved on to another cabinet and was shuffling through more files. She pulled open the top drawer, then paused as if thinking hard. Or listening.

  Then she whirled around and caught me in the glare of her flashlight

  “Ohmygod!” she exclaimed. “Sabine?”

  I blinked at the bright light. “Hey, you’re blinding me!”

  “How? Why?” Danielle sounded stunned. “What are you doing here?”

  “I saw you come here and I was worried—worried you were in trouble.”

  “The only trouble I’ve got is you.”

  “Come on, let’s get out of here,” I whispered fiercely. Shielding my eyes, I added, “Shut off that flashlight so we don’t get caught. Let’s go—talk somewhere else.” I couldn’t think of what else to say.

  “I’ve got nothing to say to you.” She only lowered the light a few inches. “Go away.”

  “Not until you tell me why you’re doing this.”

  “Butt out. This isn’t any of your business. And don’t you dare tell anyone you saw me here.”

  “I won’t if you explain what’s going on. Why did you break in here?”

  “It’s not breaking in when you have a key,” she said defensively.

  “If you have a key, why are you sneaking around?”

  “I don’t want to, but I have to. You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me,” I urged softly.

  “I can’t!” She shook her head. “I promised. Now leave before we both get into trouble.”

  “Too late,” a gruff voice cut in. In the doorway loomed a hulking man wearing a gray uniform and holding a flashlight. The janitor—Mr. Watkins.

  “You girls better talk fast and have a good explanation before I call the cops,” he said, stepping into the room and snapping on the overhead light.

  “Uh … ” I tried to think of something to say, but drew a blank.

  “Please don’t call the police,” Danielle begged. “My parents would kill me.”

  “Ain’t my problem.” He shrugged. “Save it for the cops.”

  “No! Don’t call them!” Danielle scooted closer to me, clutching my hand with sweaty fingers. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Tell him, Sabine!”

  I turned to her with bewilderment. “Tell him what?”

  “About—the kid we saw sneaking around and how we chased him i
n here.” Danielle was squeezing my hand so tight, I shook her off.

  “A kid?” My heart thudded. “Oh, yeah. The kid.”

  “But he ran off before we could catch him,” Danielle said quickly. “I think he was a vandal. He could have broken windows or started a fire, only we scared him away. Instead of giving us a hard time, you should be thanking us.” She sounded so pathetic. Still, I nodded, playing along.

  The janitor scowled. “You expect me to buy that load of crap?”

  “That kid could still be around,” Danielle warned, sticking to her ridiculous story. “Don’t waste your time with us; go look for him before he gets away.”

  The janitor rubbed his beard and narrowed his gaze at us. “Enough. I’m calling the cops.”

  “But you can’t!” Danielle sobbed.

  “Watch me.” He chuckled and reached for a cell phone in his pocket.

  Danielle clutched at me. “Sabine, do something.”

  “I wish I could.” Panic pounded with my heartbeats. If we were arrested, everyone would find out and ugly rumors would spread. Penny-Love might stick up for me, but some of the others would turn away. And Josh—what would he think? I’d die if he turned away, too. But there was nothing I could do.

  Don’t give up so easily, Opal told me. Tell him that the police will find his car trunk interesting.

  “The police will find his car trunk interesting?” I questioned out loud, feeling like a total idiot but desperate enough to try anything.

  The janitor stopped dialing and glared at me. “What did you say?”

  “Nothing. Uh—just that if the police show up, they’ll look everywhere.” I thought fast. “Including your trunk.”

  “My car’s got nothing to do with this,” he growled.

  “Pens, staplers, a phone, and a computer monitor,” I repeated the message Opal passed on. Realization dawned, and I pointed my finger at the janitor. “You stole those things from the school?”

  “Shut up!” He curled his hand into a fist. “You’re a lying little bitch. One more word and I’ll let you have it.”

  Danielle stared at me with wide eyes. “Sabine, stop saying scary stuff. You’re making things worse.”