Don't Die, Dragonfly

by Linda Joy Singleton

  “Listen to your girlfriend if you know what’s good for you. Say one word about me to the cops, and I’ll come after both of you.”

  He’s bluffing, Opal told me. Don’t let him scare you. He has serious issues to overcome in this lifetime. He compensates for his inadequacies by thievery, going as far as stealing money from his mother’s purse.

  “Stealing from his mother!” I exclaimed.

  “Who told you that?” he demanded.

  “You took money from your own mother’s purse!”

  “Why you little—” Mr. Watkins dropped his cell phone. He didn’t move to pick it up, instead he raised his fist at me. “Get out!”

  “But—But what about the police?” I stammered uselessly. “Aren’t you going to call them?”

  “Just go!” he shouted.

  I grabbed Danielle, then we raced out of there. All I could think about was getting far away from that psycho janitor. I ran so fast, Danielle lagged behind.

  “Hurry!” I heard the quickening of her footsteps.

  Racing down the hall, around a corner, out of the school. Relief and gratitude filled me. Opal had truly been my guardian angel this time.

  I didn’t slow down until I reached the sidewalk. Only then did I stop, ready to get some answers from Danielle.

  “After nearly getting me arrested, you owe me the truth,” I said as I turned to face her. Only I was talking to air.

  Danielle was gone.

  When I reached home, the lights were off and my grandmother was already asleep. I found a Post-It note on my door from Nona that said simply: “Mom called.”

  I’d spent the last hour breaking laws and risking arrest, but none of that compared to the anxiety I felt at those two words. I’d rather return to the school and face the psycho janitor than call Mom.

  My mother might have loved me, but she sure didn’t like me much. And who could blame her? I mean, I was the weird one. My sisters were so much easier—sharing Mom’s love of music and performing. They even kept their rooms clean. But my room—and my life—had never been tidy. The imaginary friends of my childhood hadn’t been imaginary, and I’d often known things—disturbing things, like our elderly neighbor falling down the stairs and lying there until I convinced my parents to check on her. Or the time I’d told my sisters’ piano teacher that her daughter had a broken arm—minutes before the hospital called.

  And I knew without being told that Mom was going to send me away. My bags were already packed when she gave me the news. Sure it hurt, but I didn’t let her know. Never once did I argue. Instead it was Dad who took my side, accusing Mom of overreacting. But in the end, he preferred peace to war and quietly gave in to Mom’s decision. Now my only contact from Mom was a monthly check to cover my expenses.

  So why had she called now?

  I awoke still wondering this the next morning. But I had no intention of picking up the phone to find out. If Mom had something important to say, she’d call back.

  Deciding not to call Mom was easy; picking an outfit proved a bit difficult. After trying on four shirts, two skirts, and five pairs of pants, I finally settled on a scoop-neck yellow shirt and dark jeans. Then, I brushed on a bit of makeup. For a finishing touch, I fastened on tiny gold stud earrings. Tasteful—even attractive—but definitely not unusual.

  When I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I was smiling—thinking of Josh and anxious to get to school. Would he be waiting by my locker?

  He was. And his face lit up when he saw me.

  Josh talked about his weekend as I sorted through my locker. He’d gone to a meeting of magicians and learned how to make empty shoes walk on air.

  “Not really walk, of course, just appear to.” He snapped his fingers. “Like magic.”

  “How can I tell if it’s a trick or real magic?” I asked, grabbing my English book.

  “Easy. There is no real magic.”

  I wondered if he’d say the same thing about psychics.

  Josh went on to describe his great aunt’s ninety-ninth birthday party. Instead of gifts, everyone came with a funny story or joke to share. His story involved a bowl of green Jell-O and a teacup poodle, and I was still laughing when we reached our first class. The teacher hadn’t arrived, so we waited in the hall along with some other kids.

  Josh tossed his backpack by the door, then turned back to me. “So how was your weekend?”

  “Dull,” I answered with a shrug. “No poodles or Jell-O.”

  “Nothing interesting?”

  “Nope.” Except for seeing a ghost and getting caught by the janitor for breaking into the school. I hesitated, then added, “Well, there was something funny.”

  “What?”

  “My grandmother lost her notebook and I found it—in the refrigerator.”

  “Why’d she put it there?”

  “So she wouldn’t lose it.” I giggled at his confused expression. “You had to be there, but believe me, it was weird even for my grandmother.”

  “I believe you.” He squeezed my hand. And the way he was looking at me, we weren’t talking about Nona anymore. My heart sped up as he leaned closer. We were standing in the middle of a school hallway, with kids all around, yet it was like we were alone. And I was sure he was going to kiss me.

  “Sabine!” Penny-Love came rushing between us like a tornado, her curly red hair tangling around her freckled face. “Wait till you hear!”

  “Hear what?” I said a bit sharply.

  “Then you don’t know? Wow! It’s all over school!”

  “I doubt that.” Josh checked his watch. “School doesn’t even start for ten minutes.”

  “The buzz doesn’t run on school time.” Penny-Love paused to catch her breath, then exclaimed, “Someone broke into the school last night!”

  “Broke into … ?” My legs almost buckled. “Oh, no!”

  “Oh, yes. Dunlap is talking to the police right now.”

  “The police?” Dunlap was the principal. I felt sick. “They’re here?”

  “Two cops with guns and everything. Who do you think did it? Crime is only supposed to happen in big cities, not here. This is so exciting!”

  Josh frowned. “What was damaged?”

  “Windows were smashed, walls painted with swearwords, garbage cans knocked over, and they stole stuff from a supply room.”

  “But how could that happen when I was—” I clapped my hands over my mouth. “I mean—how could anyone do such a thing?”

  “Shocking, huh?” Penny-Love shook her head, but the sparkle in her eyes was a dead giveaway she was enjoying this.

  “Probably some punks from Regis High,” Josh said with a scowl.

  A few other kids had gathered around to listen, whispers spreading.

  “This is more serious than a rival school prank,” Penny-Love added ominously.

  “Were there any witnesses?” Josh asked.

  “Yeah. I heard a neighbor saw someone running out of the school. She thought it was a girl.”

  “She didn’t get a good look?” I asked anxiously.

  “Guess not.” Penny-Love shrugged. “But there were paint handprints found by the supply room.”

  I glanced away, cursing myself for not washing my hands before leaving Jill’s. Would the police be able to match the prints to mine? While I’d gotten in trouble at my previous school, I’d never been arrested. I didn’t think my fingerprints were on file anywhere. Maybe I was safe … for a while. Besides, the worst I’d done was trespass, which technically wasn’t breaking and entering since Danielle had a key. And nothing had been vandalized when we’d been there.

  “What about the janitor?” I asked. “Why didn’t he stop the vandals?”

  “He didn’t get a chance.” Penny-Love lowered her voice. “Poor guy.”

  My pulse jumped. “What do you mean?”

  “I guess the janitor must have caught them trashing the school.” She paused before adding dramatically, “He was attacked and found unconscious. He’ll be abl
e to tell who did this when he wakes up. If he ever does.”

  A window in the computer lab had been smashed, and when I arrived for my sixth period newspaper/journalism class, a worker was hammering plywood over the window frame.

  “Luckily the computers weren’t damaged,” Manny said, looking up from his keyboard. With barbed wire woven in his dreadlocks and carefully planned rips in his jeans, he had an edgy yet polished style that demanded attention. “Too bad about the vandalism and the janitor, but it makes a great story. I got out of my last class to work on it, and I’m almost finished.”

  “I hope you have the facts straight. The rumors have gotten so wild.”

  “Yeah. The popular guilt vote goes to the jocks from Regis High, but I don’t think they’d attack the janitor.”

  I dumped my stuff at my desk, then came up beside Manny. “Did you interview the police?”

  “Not yet. But Dunlap gave me enough info for my article. I can’t believe how sloppy the vandals were. They left behind loads of evidence.”

  “They did?” I gulped. “Like what?”

  “Read about it when you edit my piece.” He hit a key and the printer started up. When it stopped, he handed me two full pages. “The sooner the better. Thanks in advance.”

  I nodded, already skimming the article with shaky hands. Manny had opened with basic information: location, time, date, and a description of the damage. He’d included a list of the missing items: from staplers to a television. Then it went on to describe the janitor’s injuries: a bash on his head, cuts and bruises. He’d regained consciousness, but his memory was confused and the police hadn’t been able to get any answers from him.

  Chills crawled up and down my skin. Mr. Watkins might have stolen supplies, but he hadn’t attacked himself. What if he were so confused he thought Danielle and I jumped him? I didn’t even have an alibi. Nona had been asleep when I’d returned home. And I couldn’t tell anyone why I’d left Jill’s early. Who would believe a psychic vision led me to the school?

  The words on the paper blurred as I fought to stay calm. I’d been in trouble before, accused of things I had no control over. “I won’t let it happen again,” I murmured, then flushed when I realized I’d spoken out loud.

  “What did you say?” Manny swiveled in his chair to face me. “Did you find something wrong?”

  “Not with your article.”

  But there was plenty wrong with my life, and I couldn’t sit around waiting for the police to slap on the handcuffs. Last time I’d been accused unfairly, I’d stood by without defending myself. I’d counted on my parents to stand up for me, and I’d been disappointed. The only person I could count on was myself. I had to find out what really happened last night.

  And I’d begin by questioning the person who’d gotten me into the mess.

  *

  Josh told me that Evan told him that Danielle was sick and wouldn’t be at school for a few days.

  “But here’s her phone number,” Josh added, walking to his car. When he wasn’t busy after school, Josh liked to drop me off; then we’d talk on the phone later. I hadn’t worked up the nerve to invite him in to meet Nona yet.

  Fallen leaves crunched under my feet as I walked down my long gravel driveway. In the distant pasture, I saw Nona and Dominic tending to one of the cows. Good. No one would be around when I called Danielle.

  I grabbed the phone and dialed the number Josh had given me.

  “Crother residence,” a man answered. Probably Danielle’s father.

  “Uh, hi. Is Danielle there?”

  “Yes, but she isn’t feeling well.”

  “Can I talk to her for just a minute? It’s kind of important.”

  “Well … guess it can’t hurt. I’ll see if she’s up to it. Hang on a minute.”

  It was more like four minutes before Danielle came on the line, coughing as she asked who was calling.

  “Sabine,” I told her. “We have to talk.”

  “Can’t it wait?” Another cough. “I’m not feeling too hot. I have to go—”

  “Don’t hang up!”

  “I think I’m going to vomit—”

  “Stop the act. You’re not really sick.”

  “Yes, I am!”

  “Right,” I said sarcastically. “And last night was only a bad dream. Don’t put me off, Danielle. Or I’ll just call back and talk to your father. I bet he’d be very interested to know his daughter broke into the school and—”

  “No! You don’t understand.”

  “That’s for sure.”

  “You can’t tell my parents anything. They think I was studying with a friend last night, and they’d be devastated if they knew I lied. They’ve got this unreal idea that I’m this perfect daughter, and I don’t want to hurt them.”

  “I won’t say anything—as long as you explain what happened. Things have gotten serious. Didn’t you hear about the vandalism and the attack on the janitor?”

  “Sure. Evan told me—but that doesn’t involve us. We were already gone.”

  “Only we can’t prove that. It doesn’t sound like the janitor remembers much, but what if he tells the police we were there? We could get blamed for everything.”

  “But that’s wrong!” she exclaimed shrilly. “We weren’t even there when that stuff happened.”

  “If anyone finds out we were there at all, we could be in big trouble. Expelled or even arrested.”

  “Ohmygod! I—I’d die if it got that bad,” she whispered. “Oh, Sabine … What can we do?”

  “You can tell me what you were really looking for last night.”

  There was a long pause on the other end of the phone, and I had an image of Danielle huddled under a patchwork quilt, clutching a pillow to her chest with trembling hands. Her pale face was tear-stained and a dinner plate was untouched beside her bed.

  “You win,” she finally said in a weary tone.

  Then she told me.

  *

  Danielle was a liar and a cheat.

  Or at least she planned to cheat by stealing an important test from her bio teacher. By working in the school office, she’d learned that the only copy of the test was hidden in a locked storage room. So she’d “borrowed” a key from the office. Her plan seemed simple: go to the room after school, sneak inside, and copy the test. No one would know, and she’d ace her bio test.

  Only, I’d come along and caught her in the act. She’d lied and manipulated me into helping her. I should have been angry, but she sounded so miserable that I just felt sad for her. Also, I felt relieved because this time I’d acted on my vision and maybe prevented Danielle from running into the vandals and being attacked like the janitor.

  Danielle begged me to keep her secret, and because I had secrets of my own to protect, I agreed.

  Still I wondered who vandalized the school. I turned this problem over in my mind as I lay on my bed staring up at the ceiling. My eyes ached and blurred. Shutting them, I went over last night’s events. Over and over, trying to untangle questions, straighten them into answers—but only getting more questions. Where had Danielle gone after she left me? Did the janitor see who attacked him? Was it one person or a gang? I visualized a paint-splattered wall with ugly scrawled messages.

  A banging door from downstairs snapped my concentration. Nona must have come in from the pasture to start dinner. She was a terrific cook and she’d promised to make my favorite tonight—lasagna. My mouth watered as I anticipated cheesy noodles, vegetables, and homemade sausage. Although we had a formal dining room table, we always ate on the big porch, watching the sunset. Dominic never joined us, which suited me fine.

  Since moving here, my relationship with Nona had grown into a close friendship. She told me we had a strong connection that went back into past lives. We’d been sisters, mother and daughter, and even married. I’d laughed, pretending not to believe. But I had no doubt that our bond went deep and long ago.

  All this would end if I had to leave.

  I should o
ffer to help with dinner, I thought. But if I go downstairs now, Nona’s radar will pick up my anxiety in a heartbeat.

  So I reached for my craft bag and channeled my nervous energy into embroidery. Needle in and needle out, twisting, twirling yarn into delicate designs. My mind wove patterns, too. Incriminating evidence was stacked against me. I’d been in the storage room and left behind paint marks. A witness might have seen me. And I’d argued with the janitor, who was now hospitalized.

  “Not looking good,” I murmured as I snipped a silver yarn with scissors.

  Staring down at the white landscape, I saw shapes that weren’t there at a first glance. An owl flying in a blizzard and a snow bunny nibbling on a lone blade of frosted grass. Things became clear when you looked beyond the obvious.

  That’s what I should do, too. Search deeper than the surface for answers. And I couldn’t rely on Opal or confusing psychic visions. There was no controlling my gift, only learning to live with it—which I didn’t want to do. The more I used my sixth sense, the stronger it would become. Then I’d never be free of other worlds.

  “Sabine, can I come in?”

  Glancing up, I saw Dominic standing in my doorway.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked ungraciously.

  He shifted his feet, looking uncomfortable. “I want to ask you something.”

  “Make it quick.” I gestured to my embroidery. “I’m kind of busy here.”

  “It’s about what you said—about seeing my mom.”

  “Forget it. I was hallucinating.”

  “That’s what I thought … at first.” He stepped closer and although he wasn’t as tall as Josh, he filled my room with a strong presence. “But then I found something odd.”

  My needle slipped, lightly jabbing my finger. I winced. “What?”

  “This.” He handed me a silver coin. “It was in my pocket.”

  “So what? It’s just an ordinary nickel.”

  “You know it’s more. It’s dated the year I was born.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The coin tingled in my palm, and I tossed it back to him without looking at it.

  He caught it and eyed me accusingly. “You know a lot of things, don’t you?”

  I pointed to the door. “Get out.”