MOON FALL (13 page)

"I'm wise in the old ways."

"I'll be back soon," Kelly said, and headed into the woods.

Sara stomped on the brakes, narrowly missing the red-haired
girl as she darted across the road leading to St. Gertrude's
garage.

The girl stood still, staring at Sara in surprise just long enough
for her to jump out of the car. Then she turned to run away.

"Wait!" she called, searching her memory for the girl's
name, finding it. "Kelly, wait!"

The girl whirled, her face a sullen mask of guilt as Sara
approached her. ''You gave me quite a scare."

"Sorry," Kelly mumbled.

"Are you all right?"

She nodded, staring at the ground. ''Are you going to tell
on me?"

Sara recognized the fear in the girl's voice, remembered the
fear she had felt herself, and made a decision instantly. "No,
but on one condition."

Kelly slowly lifted her head. ''What?"

"Tell me what you were doing."

"I took a walk, but I'll get in trouble if the nuns find out."

"Just a walk? That's all?"

"We're not supposed to do anything without permission,
and Mother Lucy doesn't like me, so I'd really get it."

Sara didn't think that was the whole story, but she wanted
to win the girl's trust, partly because she would be a good
source of information, but mainly because Kelly Reed obviously
needed a friend.

"Okay," Sara said. "Maybe we can talk later."

Kelly nodded, then scooted away, disappearing into the
bushes by the eastern door of the school building, then coming
out carrying books, walking sedately toward the dormitory.

Sara drove on to the garage and removed the purchases she'd
made after visiting Sheriff Lawson. At the Moonfall Market
she'd bought a bag of groceries
-
bread, cans of deviled ham
and chicken, com chips, a couple of six
-
packs of Pepsi, instant
coffee, a bag of M&M's, and a few apples and oranges to offset
all the junk food. At a five-and-dime she'd also purchased an
electric kettle, plastic cutlery, paper plates, a plastic
tum
bler,
and a ceramic coffee mug. And, most important, a rubber wedge
to push under her door.

Glancing at her watch, she saw it was nearly five-thirty, and
balancing the three bags, she rushed toward the dormitory. By
the time she made it up the third flight of stairs, she was panting
and her leg muscles were on fire. She pushed open the door to
her room, vowing to start exercising again-
she hadn't realized
bow out of shape she'd gotten in the last year or so.

Quickly she stashed the Pepsi in the refrigerator and left
everything else on the table. Then, with only the briefest glance
in the tiny mirror above the chest of drawers, she raced from
the dorm and over to the west end of the school building, where
the cafeteria was. She would rather have eaten alone, but she
was afraid she would make a bad impression if she didn't show
up for dinner on her very first night at St. Gertrude's.

The heavy doors were shut and she consulted her watch
again: she was five minutes late. She nearly turned around,
remembering how the nuns were angered by tardiness, then
reminded herself she was a teacher now, not a student. Swallowing,
she pushed open one door and peered inside. The
students, a sea of navy and white seated at long tables, were
reciting a prayer in Latin, the same one she remembered from
her youth. When they were done, she slipped inside and walked
over to the table where the nuns, a dozen or so, were seated.

"Miss Hawthorne," said Mother Lucy in her clipped, hard
voice, "we wondered if you were going to join us. There's a
chair for you, over between Sister Bibiana and our gym instructor,
Miss Roth. We took the liberty of preparing a tray for you."

''Thank you.
I
-
l'm sorry I'm late," Sara stammered, seating
herself and blushing furiously as all the nuns stared at her.

Only Sister Bibia
n
a smiled. ''I remember you, Sara," she
said. "You were an excellent student. We're so happy to have
you back with us."

''I'm happy to be here." She looked at her tray, remembering
that the food was surprisingly good. Her plate held a slice of
pot roast with golden onions, carrots, and mashed potatoes,
real right down to the lumps. A bread plate held a hot roll, and
there was a small dish with a square of lime gelatin with cottage
cheese and pineapple. A glass of milk rounded out the meal.
Suddenly, she was ravenous.

The cafeteria was quiet, except for the rattle of cutlery and
the soft murmur of voices, and Sara tried to eat slowly, emulating
the nuns. Beside her, Esther Roth, the quarterback of a gym
teacher, with brutish features and square shoulders on a squat,
powerful body, ate steadily, staring at her food as she shoveled
it in. The rest of the teachers, all nuns, ate silently and sedately,
and when they were all finished, Mother Lucy stood up and
clapped her hands twice. ''Girls," she called, ''your attention,
please. I'd like to introduce Miss Hawthorne. She will be replacing
Miss Ty
nan as your upper-grade history teacher, beginning
Monday. Say hello to Miss Hawthorne, girls."

''Hello, Miss Hawthorne," came a polite chorus.

"Miss Hawthorne," said Lucy, "why don't you stand up
and say a few words?"

Surprised and resentful at being asked to speak without warning,
Sara rose, nearly knocking over her chair in the process.
She looked across the room at the sea of upturned faces and
tried to smile. "I'm looking forward to getting to know each
and every one of you, and if you ever have questions about
lessons or anything else, please feel free to come to me. I hope
we'll have lots of fun in class."
That wasn't so bad.

"School," intoned Mother Lucy, giving Sara the eye, "is
not a place of fun. It's a place to learn. I expect you girls to
remember that."

''I only meant," Sara began, trying to sound utterly calm
despite her anger, "that lessons don't have to be dry and boring."
She looked around the room, saw Kelly Reed at the end
of a table in the rear, and smiled in her direction. "History is
especially dry if all you do is memorize names and dates. In
my class, you'll learn some interesting things about the people
behind the names, and I hope you'll find learning an enjoyable
experience."

Sara reseated herself and the girls remained silent, their eyes
now on the Mother Superior. Lucy nodded almost imperceptibly
and there was a smattering of applause.

"We trust you'll enjoy your stay at St. Gertrude's," Lucy
told her. "Now, I'd like the other instructors to introduce themselves.
Doubtless you know many of them already."

"I'm Sister Regina," said an ageless woman with heavy
lidded
eyes. Her features were nearly as severe as Lucy's, but
where the Mother Superior had a long, equine face, Regina's
was heart-shaped and rather reptilian. "I teach health and biology,
and I'm also the school nurse. I'll be seeing you through
your tests tomorrow."

Oh, God, the physical.
Sara cringed inwardly, but gave her
a smile. ''I remember you from my days as a student. It's nice
to see you again."
Let this be over with!

They went around the table. Sister Matilda greeted her
warmly, followed by Sisters Agatha, Martha, Flora, Valerie,
Abby, and Margaret. Sister Elizabeth pursed her lips, then
offered to paint her her
own saint for her room, and Sara
suppressed a chill as she thanked her: the last thing she wanted
was one of those bloody horrors staring at her every time she
was alone.

"I'm Sister Mary Oswald," said the last nun. Sara remembered
her; she was so blond and pale that she was nearly an
albino, and her manner was as cold as her complexion. "Sister
Bibiana and I prepared your room."

''Thank you."

"And I'm Esther Roth," said the quarterback beside her.
''Maybe we can have a drink together, you and I being the
only lay teachers here." Her voice was rough and friendly,
maybe it was her rnannish haircut or the way she looked Sara
up and down that made her decide the last thing she wanted
to do was be alone with the gym teacher.

She nodded. "Were you here in '84? I think I remember
you."

Esther nodded. "Sure. I was a little slimmer back then, and
used to dye my hair red. It was long then."

Sara studied the woman, remembering now. She'd been less
mannish back then, but had still had a reputation among the
girls for over
-
supervising their showers.
Be nice. All students
think all gym teachers are gay.
But looking at Esther now, at
the short hair bleached to a nearly punkish platinum, she still
thought it and felt momentarily guilty. Then she reminded herself
that she had quite a few gay friends of both genders back
home, and none of them made her feel this way; she knew they
would no more try to seduce her or "turn" her than she would
them. None of them was stereotypical, not like Esther Roth,
who was not so subtly running her tongue over her lips and
watching her. "Perhaps we can get together after I'm more
settled," she told her.

"Sure, just knock on my door. My room's next to yours."

Oh, joy.
"I'll do that. Thanks."

Mother Lucy stood and clapped her hands again. ''Clear
your tables, girls. Who's assigned to the teachers' table? Raise
your hands."

Two girls did. One was a plump underclassman with ho
rn
rimmed
glasses; the other was Kelly Reed. It had been like
that when Sara had gone to school. The least favored girls
always got the extra clean-up duty.

''Come forward and get busy, ladies."

As Sara watched, the two took their own trays to the kitchen
area, followed by the rest, who filed out of the cafeteria
.
''Where
are they going?" she asked Sister Bibi
ana
.

"Those who aren't on kitchen duty will go to their rooms,
to study or read until lights out. When you're on dorm duty,
you'll find out that there's quite a bit of horseplay, though."

"That seems reasonable," Sara said, as a pale hand reached
for her tray. She looked up at Kelly, gave her a subtle wink.
The girl answered with the tiniest smile.
.

When the girls were gone and the table cleared, Lucy spoke.
''The sisters and I are going to the chapel for evening services,
Miss Hawthorne, as is customary. The evening is yours to do
as you please. I'm sure you're tired from your journey."

"Yes. Very." Sara had taken three days to travel from the
Bay Area, giving herself a small vacation, traveling down the
slow, winding Pacific Coast Highway. She'd spent one night
in the seaport village of Red Cay on the Central Coast, and
another in Santa Barbara, before arriving late this morning, so
she shouldn't have been so exhausted. But there was no doubt
about it; she felt like sleeping for a week.

"Get plenty of rest," said Sister Regina, the nurse, "so you'll
be refreshed for your tests tomorrow. I'll see you at one o'clock
in the medical area, downstairs."

Sara nodded, her stomach twisting. She didn't like tests, be
they medical or psychological or any other kind, and she didn't
look forward to tomorrow.
It'll all be over soon.
She rose,
along with the nuns and Esther, and was very relieved when
Esther went with the sisters toward the chapel instead of accompanying
her back to the dorm.

Sara entered at the far end of the dormitory and walked along
the first floor, where the older girls had their rooms. Most of
the doors were open and girls were socializing, moving back
and forth, giggling and gossiping. When they saw Sara, most
of them smiled and exhibited a politeness that she had never
seen in public school. A few looked annoyed and quickly shut
their doors.

She continued down the hall just past the central staircase,
and stopped at the second door ... her old room, where she'd
found Jenny Blaine, her roommate and best friend, dead in a
pool of her own blood. Unlike Lenore Tynan's wrists, Jenny's
had been slit the long way and blood had flowed freely, spurting
over the walls and furnishings. Sara shivered
i
nvoluntarily, then
knocked on the door, trying to ignore the portrait hanging beside
it, one of some saint whose heart was being tom from her body
by flying demons.

The door opened slightly and there was Kelly Reed. ''Miss
Hawthorne?" she asked nervously.

"Hi, a
h
, I didn't know this was your room, Kelly. I hope
I'm not disturbing you."

"I was just studying. It's okay." Her eyes asked all the
questions.

''This used to be my room, when I was a student here. I just
wanted to see it again."

''Really?" she asked, her voice betraying interest. ''Your
room?"

Sara nodded.

"Come in." Kelly pulled the door wide, then shut it behind
Sara.

The room was a bland off-white, with two metal twin beds,
one on either side of the room. At the foot of each bed were
small closets and on the wall with the entry a chest of drawers
on either side. By the heads of the beds were small desks, each
with a straight chair and a small lamp. Everything was bland
and white, from the bedspreads to the desks.

''It's just like I remember," Sara said.
Except for all the
blood.

''Boring."

Sara laughed. "My thought exactly. Where's your roommate?"

"Marcia's probably hanging out in Buffy's room. Good riddance,"
she added.

"You don't get along?"

Kelly shook her head. "I can't stand her and her friends."

"Is Marcia the one with the long blond hair? And Buffy's
i
s
short and curly?"

Kelly's eyes widened. "You know them already?"

''I met them. And I saw them picking on you."

The girl blushed and looked at her hands. "Was Mother
Lucy here when you were a student?"

"Yes."

"Do you like her?"

Of course she didn't, but Sara didn't think she should say
so, at least, not outright. "She's tough."

"But do you
like
her?" She sounded disgusted with Sara's
feint.

"Kelly, I'm a teacher here. What do you want me to say? I
did hear what she said to you, as well as what Marcia said."

''They hate me," Kelly spat. ''They all hate me."

''Why?"

"Marcia stole my locket." In a flood of words, she told her
story.

''And Mother Lucy believed her?"

Kelly nodded.

''Why?"

The girl shrugged. "Because Marcia's one of her favorites.
Little Miss Bitch can do no wrong." She stole a sideways
glance at Sara to see the effect of the name-calling. Sara was
careful not to react.

"There are always girls like that, Kelly. They picked on me,
too. Do you want me to talk to Mother Lucy for you?"

"No!"
Kelly practically screamed the word. "Please don't,"
she added quietly. "It'll only make trouble for me. They'll put
me back in solitary."

"Don't worry, I won't say anything. What was solitary like?"
She'd heard it threatened in her schooldays, but the girls it
happened to wouldn't talk about it.

"I thought I'd like it," Kelly said, "you know, because
Marcia couldn't bug me. But it was awful. Worse than awful.

It was scary."

''Tell me about it."

"I'm not supposed to. The nuns make you take an oath that
the devil will take you if you tell."

Disgust welled up in Sara. Kelly Reed was obviously frightened,
and probably had good reason. ''No one has a right to
abuse you."

"Nobody touched me."

''Abuse comes in many forms. If they abused you, I can
do something about it. Frankly, nothing would give me more
pleasure."

Kelly looked up. "You don't like them, do you? The nuns,
I mean."

''I never said that," she replied, with a slight smile. ''What
did they do to you?"

"
I
-
I
can't." Tears glistened in her eyes. "It was just so
dark
-
"

"Hey, Ghost Girl!"

Sara turned to see Marcia Crowley, with two of her court
giggling behind her, standing in the doorway. Marcia's hand
stayed glued to the knob as she stared in surprise at Sara. Then
a huge smile lit up her face and she walked forward, standing
directly in front of Kelly. "Miss Hawthorne! How nice of you
to visit!"

She was annoyed with Marcia, but decided not to say anything,
since the girl would just take it out on Kelly later. ''This
used to be my room, Marcia. I just wondered if anything had
changed."

"Has it?" the girl chirped, as her entourage smiled from the
doorway.

"Not a bit. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll leave you to your
studies."

As she left the room, she clearly heard Marcia Crowley start
in on Kelly in a teasing, sing-song voice. ''Trying to be teacher's
pet? Good fucking luck, Ghost Girl."

Resolving to find out about the nickname as soon as she
could, Sara made her way upstairs to unpack and settle in,
wishing to God she could stop thinking about the torments
Kelly Reed suffered at the hands of Marcia and her friends.
There had to be something she could do.
But what?