The Locker (18 page)

“Have you seen Jimmy Frank?” I asked Noreen at lunch, and she gave me a suspicious look above her mouthful of sandwich.

“No. Why?”

“I … just wanted to thank him for stopping to help us last night,” I thought quickly.

“Forget it.” The idea seemed to amuse her. “He wouldn't want you to make a big deal about it. Aren't you eating?”

“I'm not very hungry.”

“We could walk over to the bleachers. He and Tyler might be hanging around there watching the girls run track.” She rolled her eyes to show what she thought about this pasttime, and I followed her off behind the cafeteria. We hadn't gone very far when she suddenly looked over at me and said, “He likes you, you know.”

I must have looked so shocked, because she giggled and linked her arm through mine and gave me one of her hugs.

“He does, you know,” she said again, and all I could do was stammer.

“What—what are you talking about?”

“Tyler, of course. Who else would I be talking about?”

“Noreen, you really are crazy. The rumors are definitely true about you,” I shot back, but it didn't phase her.

“I've known him forever, and I can tell these things,” she said sagely. “So what do you want to know about him?”

“What do you mean, what do I—”

“It drives him crazy when girls know things about him. So what do you want to know?”

I remembered our drive out to his cabin that night, and how self-conscious he'd gotten when I'd teased him. I smiled to myself, but Noreen caught it.

“Ah-hah! You know what I'm talking about! So how do you feel about
him?
”

“Noreen—” I gave a huge sigh, trying very hard to be patient with her nonsense. “I've only just met Tyler. I haven't even been here a whole week.
You
have the wildest imagination of anyone I've ever known.”

“I know.” She grinned. “But usually I'm right about things when it comes to Tyler. And I'm right about this, too—you'll see.”

We walked on without talking. Several minutes went by, and then finally Noreen glanced over at me, a look that was almost pained.

“I love him, you know.”

She wasn't joking now, I could tell. She wasn't smiling anymore, and she was very serious.

“I know,” I said.

“Not romantically, you understand,” she said quickly … too quickly, I thought to myself. “Tyler would never see me that way. We've grown up together. We've been buddies for too long.”

I nodded. I saw the way she looked down at her shoes scuffing through the dirt, and I saw the way the corners of her mouth moved in an uncertain frown.

“Anyway, here's the thing. Tyler's going to get away from this stupid town.” She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, almost defiantly. “Yeah!” She smiled. “Tyler's going to get away from here and do
great
things!”

“I believe that,” I said sincerely.

“He's going to get a scholarship, did you know?” Noreen went on proudly. “All the teachers are rooting for him—he's got so much support around here. He's going to get it.” She nodded again, her voice adamant. “He's
got
to get it.”

She ducked her head again and quickened her pace. She raked one hand through her hair and gave it a brisk fluff with her fingertips.

“And what about you?” I asked quietly. “What are you going to do when you graduate?”

“Oh, you know”—she laughed, kicking at a rock in her path—“stay here. Open a beauty shop.” She saw my look of disbelief and shook my arm again, more roughly this time. “No kidding—I
love
to do hair! I mean, look at this—” She ruffled her own curls. “Absolutely nothing to work with—all frizz. So I have to get vicarious pleasure from doing other people. I mean, we're not talking just your friendly neighborhood old-lady perms here—I'm talking
big time!
Tanning salons … makeovers … fake nails … even massages!”

“I'll come.” I grinned at her. “I could sure use a complete overhaul.”

“Unless Jimmy Frank asks me to marry him,” she added, casting me a glance that was both wistful and mischievous. “And then I'll move out to his farm, have ten kids, and milk cows.”

We stared at each other and burst out laughing.

“Ten kids!” I exclaimed, and she leaned toward me conspiratorially.

“You have to understand the process that entails.” She tried to keep a straight face. “It's a nightly ritual that requires complete and selfless dedication.”

Again we laughed uncontrollably, not stopping till we reached the athletic field. Noreen spotted the boys at once, perched on the bottom row of bleachers and having an intense conversation, by the looks of it. They broke off as we walked up, and I thought both of them looked kind of uneasy. I had this feeling we'd interrupted something important, but of course I was feeling so paranoid by that time, I knew I shouldn't trust any of my feelings.

Still hanging on to me, Noreen stopped right in front of Tyler and gave him a sly smile.

“Look who I brought,” she cooed, and Tyler's face flushed, though he was trying very hard to look like he hadn't heard her. I could have died.

“Is that your head, Noreen?” he asked casually. “Or is the moon out early?”

Beside him Jimmy Frank stood up and started walking back to the main building. After a brief shoving match, Tyler and Noreen followed, and I trailed after them. We hadn't gone far when Jimmy Frank started to lag behind and eventually fell into step beside me, but the others didn't seem to notice and kept on.

“Thanks again for helping us,” I offered, but he didn't really seem in the mood for conversation. His face was grim, and there were hard white lines around his mouth.

“Did you take anything out of my truck yesterday?” he asked abruptly.

I stared at him in surprise. “Like what?”

“Just tell me—you either did or you didn't.”

“Hey, I'm not in the habit of stealing things, okay?” I snapped. I couldn't believe his attitude—not when we'd found such common and important ground yesterday, and I'd actually begun hoping he could help me figure things out about Suellen.

He looked like he was going to snap back at me, but then thought better of it. Without a word he strode off and disappeared into the building, leaving me to stare after him with a sick feeling in my stomach.

I didn't understand what was going on.

I didn't understand anything anymore.

I was so glad when class ended that day. Jimmy Frank's accusation had left me in a surly mood, and I didn't even feel like talking to Noreen about it, so I wasted time in the girls' bathroom till I was pretty sure school had cleared out. There was that unnatural kind of hush in the corridor as I walked to my locker. From somewhere upstairs I could hear the low murmur of teachers' voices as they drifted out of empty rooms, and then their muffled footsteps coming down and going out the front door of the building.

I stopped and looked nervously behind me.

Empty.

Just a long stretch of deserted hall.

I quickened my pace and hurried on to my locker. I shifted my books to one arm and nervously fiddled with the lock. I yanked at the door, and it came open easily in my hand.

At first I thought I was seeing things.

I stood there, eyes riveted on the inside of my locker, and everything was
moving
—sides—top—bottom—
everything
—breathing and bubbling and squirming, as if the whole locker had suddenly come alive.

And then it began to melt.

Little pieces coming apart like scabs falling, flaking, flowing right out the door—

Right onto me …

And yet I knew better.

I knew even though I couldn't make myself believe it—I knew even as the dark brown pieces of my locker broke apart and spattered out onto the floor and streamed over my shoes and my hands and up the sleeves of my sweater and into my hair—

I didn't even feel them.

I was someplace else now.

Someplace dark and secret where I couldn't move, couldn't see, couldn't call for help, just me and the roaches swarming over me, the maggots gnawing my eyes, the worms crawling out of my mouth—someplace dark and small and silent and not so very far away, and I was there, and I wasn't alive, and I wasn't even me …

I was Suellen.

21

Y
ou have a fever,” Aunt Celia said, laying one hand on my forehead, using the other to hold a thermometer up to the light. “Not much of one, but still …”

“I'm just tired,” I whispered. “I'm sure it's nothing.”

“You forgot to pick Dobkin up after school,” she said patiently. “You were walking in the opposite direction when I drove by. You didn't even notice I got the van fixed.”

“Tired,” I mumbled again. “If I could just sleep …”

I saw her concerned expression … felt the soft, steady coolness of her hands upon my face.

“Tyler asked about you,” she said with forced cheerfulness. “He saw you when we got home, but you weren't in the mood to talk to him. He said to tell you hi.”

I closed my eyes. I lay very still.

“Let me help you, Marlee.” Aunt Celia smiled sadly, but I shook my head and turned over and buried my head in the pillow. There was a long moment of uncertain silence. I thought she might stay after all, but finally I heard the door close and her slow footsteps fading down the stairs.

Roaches … hundreds of roaches crawling all over me
…

“They were real,” I whispered to myself, “weren't they?”

I
thought
they'd been real—they'd
seemed
real as I'd stood there in the hallway and felt them scurrying over my arms and up my neck—as I'd heard them pattering down onto the floor—as they'd raced into cracks and crevices to hide themselves in the dark hollows of the old brick walls.…

But they wouldn't be there tomorrow.

With grim certainty I knew that by tomorrow there'd be no trace of them, and even if I told someone, nobody would ever believe me because there'd be no proof it had ever happened.…

So maybe it wasn't real after all.

Maybe I imagined it
—
dreamed it
—
saw it in my mind just like I saw Suellen's face and smelled her fear and felt her death and aloneness
…

I slept a deep and dreamless sleep.

I slept without thinking, without feeling, black and empty and merciful.

The room was filled with night when I finally woke up. There was no moon. No starlight sprinkled the sky beyond the windowpane, and a damp, chilly breeze filled the room with dread.

“Aunt Celia?” I whispered.

For just a moment I thought I'd heard something at the window. For just a moment I thought I'd seen a shadow crouched there beyond the sill.…

The house was very quiet.

My eyes sought out the clock on my bedside table, and I was shocked to see that it was just after twelve.

There it is again.…

I bolted upright, my heart pounding, the sick taste of fear in my mouth.

Something outside my window
…

Slowly I pushed back the covers and got out of bed. I took one step, cringing at the coldness of the floor on my bare feet. My nightgown billowed out around my ankles, and I clutched it close to my body, trying to stay warm. I tried to call out, but my voice had gone. Trembling violently, I forced myself to walk several more steps until I had a clear view of the window and the darkness beyond it and the massive old tree clawing at the glass.

There's no one out there. I'm going to prove it to myself once and for all
—
I can't go on being afraid of my own shadow every time I turn around.…

I crossed the last few feet and took hold of the window. I felt weak and unsteady, but I shoved till I got it open. For several seconds I leaned out upon the sill, taking deep gulps of cold night air, waiting for my dizziness to pass, and right then and there I made up my mind to ask Aunt Celia to move.

I'll do it tomorrow. Before I even go to school. She'll know I have a good reason for it
.…
She'll have us out of here by the weekend, and I'll never have to hear of Edison or Suellen Downing again.

Having come to a decision about it, I felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I straightened up and felt the chill melt from my bones, a quick surge of heat replacing it. I leaned out farther from my window and lifted my hair up off my neck, and then I closed my eyes and turned my face into the cool, cool breeze.

I stayed that way for a long time.

I stayed there, and I let the tears come, and it didn't matter that I was crying, because there was only the darkness and the deep, deep quiet and no one to hear but me.

At last I lowered my head and gave a final sob.