Shadow Girl (4 page)

One ring. Two rings. Three…four…

I let the phone ring twelve times before I hung up.

I glanced at the clock on Jada’s bed table. Mom must have gone out, I realized.

But it’s odd. She usually leaves the answering machine on during the day. I guess she forgot.

I clicked off the phone and set it down. I had a fluttery feeling in my chest. My throat suddenly felt very dry.

I smoothed Mom’s letter out on the desktop and started to read it again. My eyes slid down the page, catching a phrase here and a phrase there.

“
Soon you will learn the truth
.”

The truth? About what?

“
The hardest part is knowing that things will never be the same
.”

Why does she say that? What is changing?

“
Don’t forget me
.”

My eyes stopped at that line. The words repeated
in my head like an endless chant.

Finally, I folded the letter up and tucked it away in my dresser drawer. I didn’t want to read it anymore.

I didn’t want to read it until I could talk to Mom and find out what she meant.

“Hey—!” I cried out as an idea flashed into my mind.

Beth!

Beth should be home from school. Beth will cheer me up, I decided.

I’ll tell her about Jada and how horrible she has been to me. And maybe Beth will have an idea about what Mom was writing about in her letter.

I already began to feel better as I punched Beth’s number into the phone. I missed Beth. I really did. I didn’t have anyone I could talk to here.

The phone rang three times. Then I heard Beth’s familiar voice. “Hello?”

“Beth, hi. It’s me!” I said excitedly.

To my surprise, there was a long silence at the other end.

“Beth—it’s me,” I repeated. “Selena. I’m in Chicago.”

“Oh. Hi,” she said finally. She sounded very surprised.

“How
are
you?” I asked. “I’m so glad to talk to you. What’s up?”

Another long silence. Then she said very softly, “I—I didn’t think you’d call.”

“Excuse me? What do you mean?” I asked. “I just wanted to talk to you. I haven’t seen you since Friday.”

“I know,” Beth replied, almost in a whisper.

“It’s so weird here,” I said. “Jada hasn’t changed a bit. She’s still horrible, Beth. And today she played the meanest trick on me. She—”

“I really can’t talk,” Beth cut in.

“What? Are you busy or something? I can call back later if you want.”

“No!” she said sharply. Then another long silence.

I could hear her breathing. Rapid, shallow breaths.

I suddenly had a heavy feeling in my stomach. “What’s wrong, Beth?” I asked.

“I—I can’t talk to you, Selena,” she said. “I’m really sorry.”

Her voice cracked. She sounded about to cry.

“I don’t understand!” I cried. “What are you saying?”

I could hear Beth take a deep breath. “They told me I can’t talk to you,” she said. “They told me we’d both be in danger.”

“
Who
told you?” I shouted. “Who? What is this about, Beth? Why can’t you talk to me?
Answer
me!”

“Please,” she whispered. “Please don’t call here again.”

I heard a click, and the line went dead.

I sat at Jada’s desk, staring at the phone. I don’t know how long I sat there.

Beth’s tight, trembling voice repeated in my ear. “
Please don’t call here again
.”

How could Beth say that? She is my best friend!

I picked up the letter. I felt shaky and weird as I made my way down to the kitchen. “Aunt Janet—can I show you something?” I asked.

She was at the stove, dumping dry spaghetti into a pot of boiling water. “I’m trying a spicy new tomato sauce,” she said. “Hope you like spicy foods, dear.”

“I—I want to show you this letter from my mom,” I said.

She dried her hands and took the letter from me. Frowning, she moved her lips as she read. Finally, she handed the letter back to me.

“What does it mean?” I asked in a high, shrill voice.

“Your mother must have been very upset when
she wrote this. But I have no idea why.” Aunt Janet placed a hand on my shoulder. “My sister always was a moody one. Maybe she was just having one of her bad days. Don’t worry too much about it, Selena. The next time I talk to her, I’ll find out what she meant. I promise.”

After dinner, my aunt and uncle drove to the mall to do some shopping. Jada was downstairs in the living room, watching a show about supermodels on MTV.

I sat at Jada’s desk in our bedroom. And pictured Jada as a model, walking down a runway in a short skirt, so tall and skinny, her long legs gleaming in the bright lights, her blond hair flying behind her.

I turned to the phone. I couldn’t stop thinking about Mom’s letter. My stomach felt knotted and tight. At dinner, I’d barely touched my spaghetti.

“Come on, Mom,” I said out loud. “Be there, okay?”

I punched in the number and pressed the phone to my ear.

It rang twice, and then I heard three very loud, very shrill beeps. And a recorded message came on. A woman’s voice, speaking very slowly and clearly:

“
We’re sorry, but the number you are calling is no longer in service
.”

I clicked the phone off. My hands were suddenly ice cold.

No longer in service? That’s impossible.

I realized I must have dialed the wrong number.

I punched it in again, slowly and carefully this time.

Again I heard the three shrill tones. And the same recording: “
We’re sorry, but the number you are calling is no longer in service
.”

I clicked off the phone again, squeezing it hard in my cold, wet hand. “It has to be a mistake,” I told myself.

I had an idea. Aunt Rose. My dad’s sister. My aunt was away, but I knew she checked in with my mom every day.

I’ll call and leave a message on her answering machine, I decided. She checks her machine all the time. I’ll tell Aunt Rose to call me here and let me know what’s happening with Mom.

Music from the TV drifted up from downstairs. I heard Jada laugh about something she was watching.

I raised the phone close to my face and pushed Aunt Rose’s number. I cleared my throat and rehearsed my message.

The phone rang once. Twice.

And then three shrill beeps rang in my ear. And the same recorded woman’s voice came on, speaking so slowly, so clearly:

“
We’re sorry, but the number you are calling is no longer in service
.”

Maybe the phone is broken, I thought. That didn’t really make sense. But it was the only thing I could think of.

Who else can I call? I asked myself, my mind spinning.

I glanced at the clock. A little after seven. Mom was probably at work or on her way there. I’ll call her at the phone company.

I had to get mom’s number from my wallet. I didn’t know it by heart, because I never call her at work.

I dialed the number. The phone rang once. Then a taped message began. I groaned as the woman’s voice droned on and on…. “
If you are calling to add service or upgrade your present service, press three…. If you are calling about a repair, press four….
”

After a long while, the voice told me to stay on the line for a service representative. Then I listened to bouncy piano music for nearly ten minutes.

Finally, a woman—a live woman—picked up and
asked if she could help me.

“I—I’d like to speak to my mom,” I stammered. “She works there. In the supervisor’s office.”

“I’ll transfer you,” the woman said.

I heard several clicks. A silence. Then five more minutes of piano music. “I’m going to go
Craaaazy
!” I exclaimed out loud.

“Can I help you?” a man asked at the other end of the line.

“I’m trying to reach my mother,” I replied shrilly. “Alice Miles. Has she come in?”

Silence. Then, “Could you repeat the name, please?”

“Yes. Alice Miles,” I said. I spelled Miles for him. “She works in the supervisor’s office,” I added.

A longer silence. I could hear him typing on a keyboard. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t find an Alice Miles.”

“Huh? But—she has worked there for over ten years!” I cried. “This is CitySouth Bell, right? Main office?”

“Yes, it is,” he replied.

“Then she has to be there! Alice Miles.”

Another long silence. More keyboard clicking. “I’m sorry, miss,” he said finally. “But no one by that name works here.”

I felt stunned. As if I’d had the breath knocked out of me.

I gripped the edge of the desk and struggled to breathe.

That man is wrong, I told myself. He made a mistake.

Of
course
Mom works at the phone company.

I decided to try again. I picked up the phone—but it rang in my hand. I was so startled, I dropped it onto the desk.

Fumbling, I picked it up and answered. I hoped it was Mom. But it was Caitlin, a friend of Jada’s.

I called downstairs to Jada to pick up the phone. I’ll try again as soon as she gets off, I decided.

I waited. And waited. I could hear Jada jabbering on with her friend. She is
never
getting off! I realized.

Sighing, I opened my math textbook. I had almost forgotten that we had a math test the next day.

Maybe this will help me forget about reaching Mom for a while, I thought. I tried to concentrate on the math problems. But it wasn’t easy.

Later, it took me hours to fall asleep. I lay covered up to my chin in the twin bed, staring at the ceiling. Thinking about Mom. And Beth. And listening to Jada’s steady, shallow breathing in the bed across from mine.

I don’t know when I finally fell asleep. But I was awakened by a rustling sound in the center of the room.

I blinked one eye open, then the other. Half awake, I squinted through the darkness at Jada’s bed. Empty. The covers had been tossed back. The pillow hung over the side.

For a moment, I thought I was dreaming.

But then I saw a figure moving near the dresser. I was still half asleep, half awake. My eyes wanted to close.

I forced them open. I struggled to focus.

Jada. I realized it was Jada standing across the room in the dark. Staring hard, I could see her pulling a sweater down over her head.

She was getting dressed. Silently. Without turning on any lights.

I turned to the bed table clock. Just past two in the morning.

She had lied about getting a drink of water. She is sneaking out again, I realized. Why? Where would
she go at two in the morning?

A tree branch tapped at the windowpane. I could hear the wind howling around the side of the house.

“Jada?” I tried to call out to her. But my voice was clogged from sleep.

I saw her bend to pull on her boots.

Then darkness rolled over me. Heavy and silent.

I guess I fell back to sleep.

I had several strange dreams. Colorful, loud dreams. I remembered someone chasing me. And falling, falling for miles.

The loud buzz of the alarm clock snapped me awake. I sat up, eyes wide open. I shook my head hard, shaking away the memory of the dreams. Then I turned to Jada’s bed.

Still empty.

Did she really get dressed in the middle of the night and sneak out of the house? Or was that a dream too?

It had to be a dream—right?

I pulled on a clean pair of straight-legged jeans and an oversize sweater. Then I brushed my hair, put on my shoes, and hurried down the stairs.

I smelled coffee brewing in the kitchen. And I heard my aunt and uncle talking. “That burglary was just two blocks from here,” Uncle Will said.

“Wow. And was it the same weird guy?” Aunt Janet asked.

“Yeah. A neighbor saw him. The guy wears a blue cape and mask. Like it’s Halloween or something,” Uncle Will replied. “And he leaves a little card. With a blue weasel on it.”

Aunt Janet laughed. “A blue weasel? This guy is freaky!”

“It isn’t funny,” my uncle muttered. “He’s real dangerous.”

I stepped into the kitchen. Uncle Will sat at the table with the newspaper and a mug of coffee. Aunt Janet stood at the sink, sipping from her coffee mug.

And Jada sat across from her father, a bowl of cereal in front of her. “Good morning,” all three of them greeted me at once.

“Morning,” I muttered.

My aunt poured me a glass of orange juice. As I took my seat, Uncle Will jumped up. “I’m late,” he said. He emptied his coffee mug. Then gave us a quick wave and hurried away.

Aunt Janet hurried into the hall, carrying a stack of envelopes for him to mail.

Jada and I were alone in the kitchen. She spooned up cereal with one hand, twisted a strand of her blond hair with the other.

I leaned across the table and whispered, “Where did you go last night?”

She lowered her spoon and glared at me. “Excuse
me? What are you talking about?”

“In the middle of the night,” I whispered. “Did you get up?”

“Of course not,” she replied sharply. “Are you starting
that
again?”

“I…I thought I saw you getting dressed in the dark,” I said.

She snickered. “Dream a lot?”

I took a sip of orange juice. “Sorry,” I muttered to Jada. “I had a lot of weird dreams last night.”

“Face it. You’re weird,” Jada said. She raised the cereal bowl to her face and slurped down the milk.

A few hours later, Miss Colgate passed out the math tests.

I signed my name at the top. Then I glanced down the page at the math problems. “Whoa,” I muttered.

What
was
this stuff? None of it looked familiar.

I raised my hand. “Miss Colgate? Are you sure this is the right test?” I asked.

I heard stirring around the room. A few kids snickered.

Miss Colgate drummed her fingers on her desktop. “Yes, it’s the right test,” she replied. “Is there a problem?”

“Well…isn’t the test on chapters seventeen through twenty?” I asked.

Miss Colgate narrowed her eyes at me. “No,
Selena,” she said softly. “We haven’t read those chapters yet. Today’s test is on chapter nine.”

I let out a long sigh. I knew what had happened. Jada.

Jada again. She knew I hadn’t been there for the assignment. She deliberately told me the wrong chapters to study.

What am I going to do? I asked myself. I can’t let her keep doing this to me.

Why does she hate me so much? There
has
to be a reason.

I failed the test. I didn’t know how to work any of the problems.

After class, I hurried out to the hall to catch up to Jada. I grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around.

“Why do you hate me?” I screamed. “Tell me. Why do you hate me so much?”

I expected her to deny it. I expected her to say “Selena, I don’t hate you at all.”

But instead, her eyes flashed and her mouth twisted into a cold grin. And she said, “Why do I hate you? You’ll find out. Real soon.”