First Evil (11 page)

Miss Green leaned over Kimmy, took her hand, slapped at it.

Kimmy groaned.

“She had the wind knocked out,” Miss Green announced. She raised her eyes to the girls huddling around the fallen cheerleader. “Quick—call for an ambulance. Call nine-one-one.”

Megan and Heather, pale and shaken, went racing from the gym.

I can move now, Bobbi thought. But what happened to me?

“You didn't
try
to catch her!” Debra's words stung Bobbi. Stepping close, Debra pointed an accusing finger. “You didn't even
try!”

“No—” Bobbi didn't know what to say. She took a step back, away from Debra's accusing finger.

“You just let her fall!” Ronnie cried shrilly. She had tears running down her cheeks.

“No!” Bobbi cried. “I tried, but—”

“You didn't try!” Ronnie screamed. “We saw you. We all saw you!”

“You just
stood
there!” Debra cried angrily.

“It was deliberate,” Ronnie said. “She did it deliberately.”

Corky, still on her knees beside Kimmy, stared up at her sister. “What happened?” She mouthed the words silently.

“I couldn't catch her,” Bobbi explained, knowing how lame her words sounded. “My arms—”

Bobbi stopped. It didn't make any sense to
her
. How could she make it make sense to
them?

“You were mad at her. So you let her fall,” Ronnie accused.

“How
could
you?” Debra cried.

Kimmy stirred and opened her eyes.

“You had the wind knocked out of you,” Miss Green said softly, still holding her hand.

Kimmy groaned. Her eyes darted from face to face. “My arm,” she groaned.

“Your arm?” Miss Green lowered Kimmy's hand to the floor.

“The other one,” Kimmy groaned. “I can't move it. I think it's—”

“We heard a crack,” Miss Green said. “Maybe you broke it.”

Kimmy tried to raise herself.

“No.” Miss Green pushed her gently back down. “Don't try to get up. There's an ambulance on the way.”

“Ohhh, it hurts.” Kimmy stared up at Bobbi. “You—you did this to me. On purpose,” she said, her voice a pained whisper.

“No!” Bobbi protested.

“You just let me fall,” Kimmy accused, wincing from the pain in her arm.

“Lie back,” Miss Green instructed her. “You're going to be okay, dear. You're going to be just fine. Don't worry about Bobbi now, okay?” She glanced up at Bobbi, and her expression became hard and cold.
“Bobbi and I will be having a good, long talk. Bobbi has a lot of explaining to do.”

“I'm sure it was an accident,” Corky said, suddenly bursting, into the conversation. “We've done this dive a million times. Really.”

“She tried to hurt her,” Debra insisted. “I watched her the whole time.”

“It's attempted murder!” she heard Ronnie tell Megan, deliberately loud enough for Bobbi to hear.

“Ronnie—you're going too far!” Miss Green scolded.

“We
saw
her!” Ronnie shot back angrily.

“No!” Bobbi screamed, tugging at the sides of her hair. “No! No! NO!”

She couldn't take any more of this.

She couldn't take the eyes, so many eyes, staring at her with so much hatred.

She couldn't take the accusing frowns, the pointing fingers.

She couldn't take the sting of their words.

“No! No!”

And without realizing it, she had turned away from them, away from their eyes, away from their hatred. And now she was running, her sneakers loud against the hard floor, running blindly, her eyes blurred by hot tears, running with her arms outstretched, running to the double doors.

And pushing through them. Into the coolness of the hallway. Out of the heat, away from their eyes, their unforgiving eyes.

She turned and ran toward the stairs. Past the white-coated paramedics hurrying toward the gym,
carrying a stretcher and black bags of equipment. Past a surprised group of students gathered in the middle of the hall.

Up the stairs and out of the building, without stopping for her jacket, without stopping for her books.

Out into the cold, gray afternoon. Her sneakers crunching over dead leaves, hot tears stinging her eyes.

She ran as fast as her heart was pounding.

She just wanted to run forever.

But then two hands grabbed her roughly from behind.

Bobbi gasped and flailed out with both hands.

“No—don't!” she cried.

“B
obbi—what's wrong?”

Chip let go of her shoulders and backed away, startled by her wild reaction.

“Oh. Chip. I—” The words caught in her throat.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you,” he said, his eyes studying her, his expression alarmed. “I saw you running and—”

“Chip—it happened to me too!” Bobbi blurted out, half-talking, half-crying. She grabbed the sleeve of his letter jacket, pressed her face against it.

“Huh? Where's your coat? Aren't you cold?”

“It happened to me too,” she repeated, not recognizing her shrill, frightened voice. She straightened up, saw that her tears had run onto his jacket sleeve. “I—I couldn't move.”

“You? Really?” Chip stared at her, as if he didn't
quite know what to make of her words, as if he didn't understand. Or didn't believe her. “I'm going to the doctor's. For tests. Right now,” he said awkwardly. “I was just telling Coach I had to miss practice. He said—”

“I couldn't move,” Bobbi repeated, as if repeating it would make him believe her. “I couldn't raise my arms. Just like you, Chip.”

She stared into his eyes imploringly.

“You should get to a doctor too,” he said softly. “Mine thinks it's some kind of muscle thing. These tests—”

A horn honked loudly, insistently, behind them.

“Hey—that's my brother. He's taking me to the doctor,” Chip said, turning to wave to the driver. “I've got to go.”

“Can I call you later?” Bobbi asked. “I mean, I've really got to talk to you. About . . . what happened.”

“Yeah. Sure,” he said, jogging to the car. “I'll be home later.” He stopped suddenly and turned back to her. “You need a lift?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I want to walk. Thanks!”

He climbed into the passenger seat. The car sped off.

He's the only one who will believe me, Bobbi thought, watching the car until it disappeared around the next corner.

He's the only one.

It happened to him too. I'm not cracking up. I'm
not.

♦ ♦ ♦

“I'm not cracking up,” she told Jennifer. “It happened to Chip too.”

Jennifer's eyes flared for a brief second when Bobbi mentioned Chip's name. She wheeled herself back against the wall, giving Bobbi room to pass her and enter the den.

“Thanks for letting me come over,” Bobbi said gratefully. She tossed her backpack onto the floor beside a couch and started to pull off her coat. “My parents took my little brother to a Cub Scout dinner, and Corky is baby-sitting tonight. I just didn't want to be alone.”

“That was so awful this afternoon,” Jennifer said, speaking slowly, cautiously. “You must have felt terrible.” She wheeled herself back into the den, banging into the frame of the narrow doorway, backing up, and succeeding on the second try.

Bobbi dropped her coat on top of her backpack and rubbed the sleeves of her blue, long-sleeved pullover to warm herself. “Yeah. I—I was—” She stopped, unable to describe how she had felt.

“So did you talk to Chip about it?” Jennifer asked.

“I—I tried to call him. There was no answer. No one at his house.”

“Would you like some tea?” Jennifer asked softly. “You look chilled.”

“No. No, thanks. Maybe later,” Bobbi said. “Do
you
believe me, Jen? Do
you
believe that I didn't deliberately let Kimmy fall?”

“I talked to her mother,” Jennifer replied, avoiding the question. “She has a broken wrist. It's in a cast. But it's her left hand, so it isn't so bad.”

“Do you believe me?” Bobbi demanded, sitting on the edge of the couch, leaning forward expectantly, her hands clasped nervously in front of her.

“I really don't know what to believe,” Jennifer replied reluctantly.

“It was like someone was holding me down, holding me in place, smothering me. My arms were useless,” Bobbi said, explaining for the hundredth time. “Useless. My whole body was useless.”

“I know what
that's
like,” Jennifer said with sudden bitterness. She stared down at her legs.

“Oh, Jen—I'm
sorry!”
Bobbi cried, jumping to her feet, feeling her face grow hot. “That was so
thoughtless
of me. I—”

Jennifer gestured for her to sit back down. “You've had a hard day, Bobbi. A horrible day.”

“Do you think Miss Green will let me stay on the squad?” Bobbi asked, dropping back onto the couch.

Jennifer shrugged. “Do you want to try to study or something? Take your mind off what happened?”

Bobbi sighed. “I don't know if I
can
take my mind off it.”

“Let's try,” Jennifer said, tossing her beautiful, wavy hair behind her shoulders. “I'll make us some tea, and we'll try.”

♦ ♦ ♦

Jennifer tried valiantly, but she couldn't rouse Bobbi from her frightened, unhappy thoughts. No matter what they talked about, Bobbi's mind trailed back to the gym, back to her mysterious, terrifying paralysis, back to Kimmy's plunge to the floor.

Again and again, Bobbi heard the
crack
of Kimmy's wrist breaking. She heard the
thud
of Kimmy's forehead
hitting the floorboards, saw Kimmy's head snap back and her eyes close.

Again and again, she saw the accusing eyes of the other cheerleaders and heard their outraged cries.

A little after eleven o'clock, Bobbi glumly pulled on her jacket, hoisted her backpack to a shoulder, and headed for the front door. “Thanks for keeping me company,” she told Jennifer, and leaned down to give her friend a hug.

“Any time,” Jennifer replied with a yawn.

“Where are
your
parents?” Bobbi asked.

“Visiting some friends,” Jennifer said sleepily. “They'll probably be home soon.”

“Well, thanks again,” Bobbi said, pulling open the front door, feeling the chill of the night air against her hot face. “See you tomorrow, Jen.”

“Get some sleep” were Jennifer's parting words. She wheeled herself to the door.

Bobbi closed the door behind her. She looked out into a dark, starless night. The air was cold and wet. From the driveway she could see a white covering of frost on her car windshield, reflecting off the streetlight.

Shivering, she made her way down the drive, her high-tops crunching over the gravel.

Crunch, crunch,
she thought. Like the crunch of bones.

When she got down to the car, she rubbed a finger over the frost on the windshield. It wasn't very frozen. She didn't need to scrape it off. The windshield wipers would take care of it.

She pulled open the car door. Then, before climbing behind the wheel, she glanced back at the house.

And gasped.

“Whoa!” she exclaimed out loud, her breath steamy white in front of her as she squinted at the large living-room picture window.

It was the only lighted window in the front of the house. A window shade had been pulled down, covering the entire window. The bright living-room lights made the shade bright orange and cast shadows onto it.

Moving shadows.

Squinting hard, Bobbi realized that she was seeing Jennifer's shadow against the shade.

And Jennifer was walking.

Pacing back and forth in front of the window.

“Whoa,” Bobbi repeated.

She blinked several times.

But when she reopened her eyes and directed them back to the window, the shadow didn't change or fade away.

Jennifer, Bobbi knew, was the only one home. And Jennifer was out of her wheelchair. Jennifer was walking!

“What's going on?” Bobbi asked out loud.

I'm definitely cracking up, she decided. I've got to get help. I'm seeing things.

She took a step up the driveway. Then another. Her sneakers slid over the wet gravel.

I'm crazy. Crazy. Crazy.

But, no. As she drew closer to the house, the gray shadow against the orange shade continued to move steadily back and forth. The image grew clearer. Sharper.

It was Jennifer. She was
walking,
her hands knotted in front of her.

What's going on? Bobbi wondered, her mind whirring with wild ideas.