CHAPTER 25
“You gonna stay for long, Mrs. Powell?” Chet Turner stuck his head in her door. “I’m about ready to leave.”
“Go ahead, Chet.” Sally turned to smile at the young janitor. “Marian’s coming in later to bring me something to eat. I’ll probably be working for a couple of hours yet.”
“Mr. Woodruff said teachers aren’t supposed to be in here alone at night.” Chet leaned on his broom and frowned. “I guess it’ll be all right if I lock you in, though. Mrs. Larsen can use her key when she comes.”
“Thanks, Chet.” Sally gave him a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The school felt empty when Chet left. Sally busied herself with her letters for a few minutes, and then she walked to the window and looked out. It was getting dark, and Marian should be here soon. She hoped so. She was hungry enough to eat a bear.
“Is anything wrong, Dan?” Marian was concerned as she watched him eat. “You’ve been so quiet all day.”
“No, nothing’s wrong.”
“How do you like the broccoli and cheese sauce? It’s Edith’s recipe.”
“Very good.”
“You’re not upset because I’m going back to the school, are you, Dan? I could always pack up Sally and bring her back here.”
“No, that’s all right, Marian. I’m just tired.”
“Maybe you should rest while I’m gone. I won’t stay out for too long. If it gets late, I’ll call.”
It was like trying to talk to a brick wall. Dan wasn’t making any attempt to really communicate. Marian sighed and gave up the effort. Perhaps he really was tired. Today had been a long day, and the atmosphere was somber in school. Cliff and Connie had been the most popular kids in the senior class. Being around their grief-stricken friends all day was bound to be exhausting. Luckily, she had escaped most of that in the elementary wing.
“Well . . . I guess I’d better be going, then.” Marian stood up and kissed him. “I’ll be back just as soon as I can.”
Dan tried not to shudder when Marian kissed him. He watched her walk from the room, and he listened to the familiar sounds as she got ready to go out. It was hard to pretend when he knew the truth.
The front door banged shut. She was gone. Dan pushed his plate aside the moment Marian left. He didn’t feel like eating. Thinking about what he’d told Sheriff Bates had wiped out the little appetite he had left. When would the sheriff act? Dan wished he knew how long these things took. He imagined that by Sunday, at the latest, Sheriff Bates would come for Marian.
She was backing the van out now. He could hear the tires spinning in the driveway. He should have taught Marian more thoroughly how to drive in the snow, but now it was too late. He’d never teach her how to do anything again. She wouldn’t need to know how to drive in a mental hospital. That was where they’d probably put her. Marian would spend the rest of her life in Brainerd State Hospital, and he’d visit her on the weekends, if he could find anyone to take him.
“Oh, God!” A moan of despair came from his throat. He was sentencing his own wife to a life behind locked doors, but what else could he do? He had to stop her from hurting someone else. In his heart, Dan knew he’d made the right decision. But that didn’t make it any easier to accept.
It was dark now. Sally turned from the window and picked up her record book again. It was silly, but she was a little frightened here at school all by herself. Her room lights, the only ones on in the entire building, cast a reflection on the snow outside. The hallway was dark, and the light switch was at the very end. She wouldn’t go out in that dark hall for anything!
Sally jumped as she heard the front door rattle. Then she smiled gratefully. Marian was back. The light switch flicked on, and suddenly the school was a friendly place again. She could hear Marian’s heels click against the wooden floor. It was a commonplace, comforting sound.
“Meals on wheels, madam?” Marian laughed as she set the tray on Sally’s little table. “I brought enough for both of us. I know it’s no fun eating alone.”
“Boy, am I glad to see you!” Sally laughed nervously. “This place is eerie at night. I kept thinking of werewolves and vampires and ghosts.”
“You’ve been watching too many old movies.” Marian spread out a cloth and unloaded the basket. “I’ve got pork chops and baked potatoes, broccoli and cheese sauce, and . . . blueberry pie!”
“No wonder it took you so long.” Sally grinned. “When did you have time to bake a pie?”
“I had it in the freezer. I just popped it in the oven when I got home. As a matter of fact, these are the blueberries we picked at your place last summer.”
“Now all we need is coffee.” Sally headed for the door. “Sit down, Marian. I’ll get it. You’ve outdone yourself.”
The teachers’ lounge was dark. The little light on the coffeepot was glowing like one red eye. It would have frightened her earlier, but now that Marian was here, her fears seemed silly and childish. The school was perfectly safe. No one could get in without a key. And only teachers had keys. It was just as safe as being alone at home.
“Here you are.” Sally carried two steaming cups across the room and set them down on the table. “Let’s eat, Marian. I’m really starved.”
The meal was wonderful, and Sally was full of praise. Marian was a good friend to join her like this. After they had eaten, Marian went across the hall to her own room to work on her bulletin boards. It made Sally feel secure when she looked out her door and saw the light on in Marian’s room. Actually, working late at the school was kind of fun. She was halfway through with her progress reports, and she’d been at it for only two hours. If she kept working, she could finish them tonight. Then she’d be all caught up, and the rest of the month would be easy.
“More coffee?” Marian called out from her room. “I’m getting some for myself!”
“Sure!” Sally hollered back. She heard Marian go into the lounge. There was a muffled exclamation. Then she was back at Sally’s door with a puzzled expression on her face.
“The coffeepot conked out. It’s stone cold. I can’t work without coffee.”
“Maybe we can go down to the cafeteria and heat it up,” Sally suggested. “They don’t lock up the kitchen at night, do they?”
“I don’t think so.” Marian shrugged. “Well, there’s only one way to find out. Let’s go.”
The halls were dark and silent as they walked through the elementary wing. Sally was glad that Marian was with her. The eerie sensation had returned, but it wasn’t as bad with Marian at her side.
Their footsteps made a hollow, echoing sound in the corridor as they went into the main building and passed the empty classrooms.
Sally shivered a little. There was a stretch of open space between the cafeteria and the classrooms that always seemed dark, even in the middle of the day. Harvey had turned it into a metal shop, and the tools and equipment were covered with plastic shrouds. It reminded Sally of a morgue, and her heart beat wildly in her chest as they hurried past.
Her fears vanished once they reached the cafeteria and turned on the lights. Now Sally felt foolish for being frightened. It wasn’t like her to be afraid of the dark. She was so nervous lately.
Marian pushed open the kitchen door. The long metal counters gleamed under banks of fluorescent lights. Cookies were stacked high on enormous trays for tomorrow’s dessert.
“I’ll have to watch Joey Cracowski tomorrow.” Marian grinned. “He loves peanut butter cookies. He always tries to snatch at least three of them.”
“There must be a thousand of them,” Sally said in awe. “That’d be almost enough for one afternoon at my house. You know how the girls go through cookies.”
There was a long silence as the two women looked at each other. Sally’s face fell as she remembered. The girls were gone. Jenny was dead, and so were her friends. There was no longer a reason to make a triple batch of peanut butter cookies.
“Don’t think about it, Sally.” Marian patted her shoulder. “It doesn’t do any good to grieve. Just think happy thoughts.”
“It’s so hard.” Sally sat down at the counter and waited for the coffee to heat. She could see herself in the gleaming stainless-steel surface. She looked tired and old.
“Things sneak up on me, Marian. Little things. I made butterscotch pudding last night because Jenny loved it. I didn’t remember until I poured it in the bowls. Ronnie hates butterscotch pudding. I’ll never get over it, Marian. I’ll never adjust!”
“Yes, you will, Sally.” Marian smiled kindly. “I felt that way, too, at first. Then I discovered something that made me feel much better. Come on, let’s carry this back to your room and I’ll tell you.”
The trip back wasn’t as frightening. Sally concentrated on holding the pot steady so the coffee wouldn’t spill. She was glad to see her own room, with the lights shining brightly. They sat down at her little table and shared the hot coffee.
“I couldn’t stand it if I thought Laura was really gone,” Marian confided, leaning close. “You see, Sally, I know that she’s out there somewhere. And someday I’ll be with her again. Until then, I just have to wait.”
Sally froze with her cup midway to her mouth. Marian must be talking about heaven, but it sounded almost sinister.
“It’s hard to understand, but I know Laura’s really not gone. She sends me notes, Sally. Laura tells me she’s happy. That’s a great comfort to me.”
Sally couldn’t say anything. She hardly dared to breathe. Marian was crazy, but she didn’t want to argue with her. Sally kept her face carefully impassive as Marian went right on talking.
“I wanted to tell you before, but I didn’t think you were ready.” Marian smiled. “Jenny’s with Laura, you know. Jenny and Becky and Laura are together again. And now Cliff and Connie are there, too. That makes me feel so much better. Our little girls aren’t lonely anymore, Sally. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Sally nodded. She didn’t know what else to do. Marian had lost her mind. Sally shivered slightly.
“Well, it’s getting late.” Marian glanced at her watch and smiled. “Do you have much more to do, Sally? I promised Dan I wouldn’t stay too long.”
“I’m nearly finished.” Sally was proud of herself. Her voice was steady. “If you have to get back home, Marian, go ahead. I’ll be just fine here. And . . . and I’ll come over to your house when I’m done. How does that sound?”
“If you’re sure you don’t mind . . . ?” Marian hesitated, and then she stood up. “I’d like to check on Dan, Sally. You come soon, though, or I’ll start to worry. I’ll stop at the store for some snacks, and then I’ll set up a card table. Maybe we can all play gin.”
“Good idea. See you soon, Marian.” Sally followed her to the door. “I guess I’d better lock this, just in case.”
She turned the key in the lock the moment Marian was outside the door. Then she leaned against it weakly. Poor Marian. It was easy to slip over the edge when you’d lost a child. She had almost gone crazy those first few days after Jenny died.
Sally shivered again. She remembered her odd reactions in those first days. She’d stop suddenly and listen, sure that she’d heard Jenny in her room. Or she’d whirl around because there seemed to be someone behind her. She had confessed it all to Ronnie, and he said he felt the same way. It was difficult to adjust when someone you loved was suddenly gone. Poor Marian. She hadn’t confided in anyone. Marian was trying so hard to have something to believe in, and now she was confused.
Sally blinked back tears. It was up to her to help Marian. She certainly wouldn’t tell anyone else about it. Marian was doing fine in her classroom, and in all other respects she was normal. She just had some strange notions, that was all. Marian had lost a little corner of her reality, and someone had to help her get it back.
Sheriff Bates pulled to a stop in front of the school. Jake was huddled up against the front door, drunk again. One of these nights he was going to die of exposure.
“Hey, Jake! Come on over here!”
Jake wasn’t moving. Sheriff Bates rolled up the window and got out of his warm car. There was snow coming again tonight, and he couldn’t just leave Jake here. He’d have to bed him down in the jail again until he sobered up.
“Come on, Jake.” Sheriff Bates hoisted him to his feet. “Steady, now. Let’s walk to the nice warm car.”
Sheriff Bates grabbed Jake under both arms and tried to drag him. He smelled like a brewery. Jake was really loaded tonight. It was like lifting a heavy rag doll, and the ice underfoot didn’t help. It took awhile, but they reached the car at last.
He propped Jake up against the side of the car and turned back to look at the school. A light was shining in the elementary wing. And there was Sally Powell at the window, grinning at him.
“Hey, Sally! Want to take him home with you tonight?” Sheriff Bates shouted at the top of his lungs. He watched as Sally forced the window open.
“No, thanks.” Sally leaned out, laughing. Jake had really tied on a good one this time. He was starting to slide down the side of Sheriff Bates’s car, just like a wet noodle.