Bellamy Rising

by A. E. Snow

  At the bottom, she peeped through the window at the top of the door. “She’s here already. Geez.”

  “Bye. See you tomorrow if we are allowed to go to school.”

  “I never thought I’d look forward to going to school. Bye.” Iris let herself out, shutting the front door behind her.

  It was still early but I knew I’d never get back to sleep. My mind raced despite my hangover. I headed to the kitchen. Mom was sitting there staring out of the window.

  “You’re up early,” I said to her.

  “Couldn’t sleep.” She glanced at me, sipped her black coffee, and grimaced. “I could really use a cigarette.”

  “It’s been two years since you quit!”

  “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think about it all the time. Because I do. And I’m stressed out.”

  I poured myself a small cup of coffee and filled the cup the rest of the way with milk and a ton of sugar. I sat down across from Mom and propped my feet up in my chair. It wasn’t often that it was just me and Mom with no one else around.

  “You never got any more notes, did you?” Mom eyed me with suspicion.

  “No,” I lied and sipped at my milky, sugary coffee drink to cover up for the fact that I was lying.

  Mom sighed. “I guess I’m just paranoid. This thing is so . . . just ugh.”

  “I know.”

  “How ya doing with it, kiddo?” Mom asked.

  I would have been pissed if anyone else in the world called me kiddo but from Mom it made me feel like someone bigger than me was in charge. It was kind of nice.

  “I’m okay, I guess.” I decided to forget the whole thing. It was done.

  Mom tapped her finger against her coffee cup. “Do you think he was the one that left you the note?”

  “Um, I guess.” NO, my brain shouted back. In fact, I thought it highly unlikely that Ethan even knew I existed. I chose to ignore that and pretend the note thing was a joke, from someone with a terrible sense of humor.

  Mom just stared at me. Finally she said, “Okay.”

  Silence filled the room. I read the label on the back of a cereal box and finished my coffee. Or my milk and sugar flavored with coffee.

  I drained the cup and stood up to put it in the sink. I froze when I saw the tulips in a vase on the counter. I don’t know how I missed seeing it before.

  “Aren’t those beautiful?” Mom asked.

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Who are they for?”

  I busied myself with rinsing out my cup, not something I ever bothered to do. “Meredith probably,” I said, wiping my hands on a dish towel.

  “She said they weren’t for her,” Mom said. “She said it would never occur to Mike to send her flowers like that. We thought they were for you.”

  “Please.” I laughed and hoped it sounded convincing. “Who would be sending me flowers?”

  Mom tried to smile brightly. “Well, I guess it’s a mystery. A secret admirer maybe?”

  “Maybe Nancy Drew can help us solve The Case of the Mysterious Tulips,” I tried to joke.

  “Ha.” Mom smiled but refused to laugh at my joke.

  I ignored the shiver that crawled up my spine when I saw the cheerful flowers opening and craning their necks searching for the sun.

  The day turned into one of the first warm days of spring. It was warm enough to not wear a jacket, anyway. The backyard welcomed me in the benign light of day. I spread a blanket out and lay down soaking up the sun. Far above me, a plane made its way slowly by. I watched it track across the sky and considering the mess that things were in, fervently wished I was on it on my way somewhere . . . anywhere.

  The back door opened. I craned my neck intending to invite Meredith to join me, but instead of my sister, Mason stood on the back porch.

  “Hi,” he said and squinted to avoid making direct eye contact.

  “Hi.” I tried to decide whether I should stay where I was or stand up or what. After what seemed like an agonizingly long time, he came down from the back porch and lay down next to me.

  I closed my eyes and pushed the picture of him and Katie Kennedy out of my mind.

  “I texted you.”

  “Oh,” I said. “My phone is inside. I guess I’ve been out here for a long time.”

  He squinted up at the blue sky. “It’s kind of nice out.”

  “Yeah.”

  An awkward silence took over but there was a lot said in the pause.

  Finally he sighed. “I came over here to tell you that Ethan was released this morning. They didn’t have enough to keep him.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. What else was there to say?

  “Do you still think that the house has something to do with it?”

  “I think so.” I paused. “I don’t know what to think.”

  “You just seemed so sure,” Mason said. His voice held a note of disappointment. “Ya know, with the visions and everything.”

  Tears tried to force their way out of my eyes. I blinked rapidly, eyes fixed on the blue sky. “I’m not sure about anything anymore.”

  “Have you had any more of them?”

  It still felt as if he didn’t exactly believe me but didn’t have anything else to go on.

  “No.” Great. Another person to add to the list of people who think I’m crazy.

  “Oh . . . well.”

  I stared at the clouds overhead. I couldn’t get past seeing him with Katie Kennedy, of all people. I felt his eyes on me and I turned to meet his gaze. I couldn’t read what was behind his eyes, but I could feel the question so strong that it was almost as if he said it out loud, “Will Onishi?” Neither one of us said anything. More tears swam in my eyes. I sat up and rested my chin on my knees hoping he wouldn’t notice the tears. He sat up too. Then he stood up.

  “I guess I should go . . .” Mason stood next to me shifting from one foot to the other.

  “Okay.” I hid my face.

  He left without another word. As soon as he was gone, I buried my head in my arms and cried. Everything was so screwed up.

  Chapter 26

  I dedicated myself to forgetting about the whole mess. I’d even skipped going to see Miss Octavia. It helped if I told myself over and over again that I’d just had some kind of weird recurring nightmare that happened during the day sometimes. The rest of the time, I tried to stay distracted. Music blasted through my ear buds constantly. I actually tried to pay attention in class for possibly the first time.

  One morning brought with it a break from the monotony. During second period, the entire school—all 400 of us—filed slowly into the auditorium for an assembly. It was billed as an “informative and educational talk on the dangers of bullying, Internet predators, the grief process, and general support during this difficult time.”

  I happened to be in Chemistry with Will. Neither of us were much good at Chemistry, and I wound up sitting next to him in the auditorium.

  I casually surveyed the auditorium. Iris sat down in front, poor girl.

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and texted her. I’m sorry you are so close. I hope he doesn’t shower you with spit.

  To which she replied: STFU. She searched me out in the crowd and gave me a sad wave.

  After everyone was seated and seventy percent of the student body had already started texting, poor Mr. J took the mic.

  “Settle down everyone,” he said sadly. His face closely resembled a wilted flower. “Sadness and tragedy has gripped our community. Bad things like this don’t happen in a place like Louisa. But here we are. We mourn the loss of two of our brightest stars. We celebrate the meaningful lives they led. Our school and our town need healing and to put this behind us while we move forward in hope. Please give him your undivide
d attention. After the assembly, please return to your class, get your things and immediately report to third period which will be abbreviated.” Mr. J trudged off-stage as Mr. Holland launched into his speech.

  “How long do you think this will last?” Will asked, pressing his knee into mine.

  “Probably a while. Lots of material to cover,” I said. I spotted Mason a few rows down to my left. I sighed and let my head rest against the back of the seat.

  As Mr. Holland warned us of the dangers of bullying and cyber-bullying on social media, which I wasn’t sure related to the deaths of our classmates, Will whispered in my ear, “Hey, I had fun the other night.”

  I just cocked and eyebrow at him.

  “I mean, except for the other stuff,” he amended.

  “It was great, I guess, except for the arrest and all that.”

  Ethan hadn’t been back to school. I’d heard that his family had threatened to sue the police.

  “Why do you think they let him go?” Will asked. “He probably did it.”

  “I don’t think so,” I whispered.

  “That’s why it is important to understand that who you are talking to might not be who you think are talking to,” Mr. Holland said, sounding like that guy from Dateline. “You might think you are talking to a twenty-two-year-old college student or even a thirty-three-year-old stockbroker but you just might be talking to a fifty-six-year-old bus driver or your next-door neighbor. And he might be a predator.”

  Iris texted me. I like how he assumes that all predators are men.

  Right there in the middle of the assembly, cold chills started to run all over me. I got lightheaded but instead of a vision, I heard a voice echo in my mind. Just think of me as your friend. The auditorium came back into focus and left me shaking like a leaf. I readjusted and took a few deep breaths.

  I closed my eyes and visualized beaches and meadows and Paris at night. My pulse finally began to slow sometime during the explanation of the five stages of grief. I could breathe again. When I opened my eyes, Mason was staring right at me.

  “What are you doing later?” Will whispered in my ear.

  “I have to work till seven,” I whispered back.

  “Want to come over after and finish what we started?”

  Mr. Holland was winding up his non-informative and non-helpful speech. “It is important to talk about this. I am available anytime and I have a list of professional counselors who would be happy to help you.”

  I heard a choked sob coming from the cheerleaders.

  “Yes. I’ll come by after seven,” I said.

  Twice during classes, I went all lightheaded and knew I was about to have a vision. I managed to get out of class in time to make it into the deserted hallway. They were the same ones I had been having but they were coming quicker, in rapid flashes that left me breathless. Dirt road, house on Larkin Lane, blond hair. After the second time, I went to the bathroom and splashed water on my face. All color had left my face. My smudged mascara complemented the purple bags under my eyes. I left the water running as I gripped the sides of the sink and stared at myself in the mirror.

  When the final bell rang, I got out of the building as fast as I could.

  “You’re early,” Ana Sofia said when I rushed in the door.

  “I am?” I pretended not to know the time.

  “And you’re flushed.”

  I shrugged and went in the back to grab an apron. Ana Sofia was chatting with the only customer so I busied myself wiping down anything in my line of sight. I was cleaning out the pastry display when Iris came in. She frowned at me.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Cleaning,” I said. “We are kind of dead today.”

  “Where’d you go after school?” she asked.

  “I just came here,” I said, not making eye contact.

  She leaned over the display. “What’s going on, Belly? You’re acting super weird.”

  “I’m fine,” I said a little too brightly.

  “Oh really? Nothing unusual going on? No more strange experiences?”

  “Nope.”

  Iris surveyed me for a moment. “I know you are lying; I’ve known you since third grade. I just hope you’re all right.”

  I said the first halfway sincere thing I’d probably said all day, “I’m sort of okay-ish.”

  “I’m gonna stay for a bit,” she said. “Mom is letting me go to authorized places only and apparently this one is okay since Ana Sofia and my mom are buds.”

  “Ana Sofia is reporting to Claire?”

  “I guess so,” she said with a sigh. “She found out that I was at the party. I was going to tell you that earlier but I couldn’t find you, plus you are acting like a weirdo.”

  “How did she find out?” I ignored the weirdo part.

  She sighed again. “Small town. She ran into one of my dad’s cop friends at the supermarket.”

  “I’m sorry. Are you ever allowed out again?”

  “Not as far as I can tell.”

  “Iris!” Ana Sofia gathered her up into a hug. Ana Sofia was very tiny and Iris was very tall but she still managed to hold her like she was a child.

  “Hi,” she said and hugged her back.

  “I want you to come work for me this summer,” Ana Sofia said. “You are so beautiful it would attract a big summer crowd.”

  I grinned at Iris. It was probably true. She rolled her eyes.

  “You convince my mom and I’m all yours.”

  “Done and done,” Ana Sofia trilled and went off to take out the trash. I love Ana Sofia. She is an awesome boss and she always does her share of the dirty work.

  Every few minutes, I found myself staring off into the distance imagining Jenna the night she disappeared. She looked beautiful and, well, alive. And I wasn’t someone who typically stopped in her tracks by blond hair or blue eyes of either gender. But my memory of her standing there holding a coffee was etched in my mind.

  Iris sat in the back corner with her earbuds in while I worked until her mother parked directly in front of the door at 6 p.m. sharp.

  Iris waved sadly on her way out. “I have to surrender my phone so I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” She lingered by the cash register.

  “Your phone too?”

  “Yes. She doesn’t believe me that I didn’t drink.” Iris shrugged. “And she’s mad at you so lay low until this blows over.”

  “Why is she mad at me?”

  “You know she likes to blame you for everything. Just take your lip ring out the next time you see her,” Iris said and went outside.

  “I don’t see how that will help,” I said to no one. I watched her walk the short length of the sidewalk to the car and get in. Her mom shot lasers at me with her eyes before pulling away.

  Business was slow. I had to find things to do in between customers. We hadn’t had a customer since Iris left so I sat scraping gum stuck on the underside of a table.

  Ana Sofia bent down on the other side of the table. “Go home. You have cleaned everything in this place.” She nodded at the butter knife I’d been using to pry away the gum. “Who even does that? What is this, a middle school?”

  I backed out from underneath the table and stood up. “But it’s not closing time.”

  “I know, but you are driving me insane,” Ana Sofia said. “It smells like bleach in here.”

  “I would have thought you’d want a clean coffee shop, you know, to keep up with health codes and shit.”

  “Yes, but you are out of control. And don’t sass me.”

  “Fine.” I smiled a little. “I’m going.”

  Ana Sofia hugged me before I left. She always did. She was a hugger. But she held me a little bit longer than usual. “Cheer up, chica, everything wi
ll be okay.”

  Tears welled in my eyes. “How do you know?”

  “It always is,” she said.

  Chapter 27

  Leaving work early meant I didn’t have a ride. Mom and Meredith were at work. If I called Andrew, he probably wouldn’t answer. Anyway, I didn’t feel like going home. I plopped down on a Main Street bench that just happened to be right across from the spot Jenna had gotten into the black car and stared at the empty parking space.

  Finally, I picked up my phone and texted Will. Pick me up?

  It only took him twenty minutes to drive from his house that was five minutes away.

  “Finally.” I climbed into the car and moved a pile of trash out of the way with my feet.

  He laughed lazily. “Sorry, I was doing something.”

  I didn’t ask what.

  “Where to? Your house?” he asked.

  Usually my house was fine but I just didn’t want to be there.

  “I don’t want to go home.”

  “My house it is.” He peeled off.

  Will’s basement was mostly storage. Tapestries hung from the ceiling covering the only window. In the middle of the room sat an old couch that might have been brown. The dirty fabric barely covered the yellowish stuffing bellow. I sat down in the middle, which appeared to have the most upholstery coverage. He turned on the TV, the only non-ancient item in the room, and plopped down next to me. He immediately settled on a cartoon designed specifically for stoners.

  We didn’t talk much. That was never actually a great strength of our relationship. Instead, I watched cartoons while he rolled a joint.

  “Isn’t your mom home?” I asked.

  “Yeah.” He stopped to light some cheap incense. “You can’t really smell it upstairs.”

  “Sure you can’t.” I settled back and got lost in the dumb show. I escaped, albeit briefly, from the weird burden I felt, like somehow it was up to me to figure everything out. As if Jenna herself was trying to tell me something.