Gallows Hill (16 page)

"Don't look away when I ask you a question," Mr. Prue said sharply. "It makes it appear as if you have something to be ashamed of."

Sarah glanced up into eyes that, magnified by the lenses of his glasses, seemed suddenly horribly familiar.

"I don't know," she repeated nervously. "I guess it's possible."

"You must also realize, there has been talk—not gossip exactly, but some speculation—about the reason your mother chose to relocate to Pine Crest," Mr. Prue continued. "Not for exactly the best of motives, shall we say? Those kinds of things have a way of catching up with people. Not that you were responsible, of course. You're an innocent victim of the fallout, as children often are. In the case of the student who was gifted with a fish in his locker, there was an issue over which his parents had aroused the ire of the community. Not that this excused retaliation against the student, but children are bound to mirror the emotions of their parents. It might not be a bad idea to discuss this unfortunate episode with your mother. Most loving parents—and I am sure your mother is loving, as all mothers are—do not want their beloved children to suffer the consequences of their own ill-advised actions.

"I've known Ted Thompson and his lovely family all my life. Ted is one of our most respected teachers, and Sheila is the pillar of our church. All marriages go through times of shakiness, particularly when the husband goes through what is often termed middle-age crisis and becomes vulnerable to outside influences. But if left alone, most couples manage to work their way through those problem times and become even closer for having done so. I think you understand what I'm getting at."

"No," Sarah said. "Exactly what are you getting at?"

"Only that if you should make your mother aware of the problems she is causing for you, she might weigh her actions more carefully. Now, go on with your normal day and keep a smile on your face. Try to act as if they haven't gotten to you, and when they don't get a reaction, this kind of teasing usually stops in a jiffy. The boy who found the fish in his locker just laughed about it. The fact that he was so good-natured stopped things right there. There hasn't been another such incident."

As Sarah turned to leave, he added, "You'd better dispose of that thing promptly. Dead birds carry all kinds of diseases."

"What should I do with it?" Sarah asked him. "Drop it in a wastebasket?"

"Certainly not. We don't want it here in the school building. Put it in the garbage bin behind the cafeteria. Oh, and on your way out, ask Mrs. Ellis to write you a tardy excuse for your next class."

Stunned by the finality of his response, Sarah did as directed, stopping at the secretary's desk to collect a tardy excuse. Then, moving like a zombie, she went out to the bin behind the lunchroom and opened the lid. The stench of rotting food rose to fill her nostrils, and bile surged into the back of her throat, threatening to strangle her. Struggling to keep from vomiting, she dropped the soggy bundle on top of a pile of moldy pasta and slammed the lid closed.

"May God have mercy on your soul," she whispered to the crow.

The thought of going to class, presenting her excuse, and turning to face her fellow students, most of whom probably knew why she was late and were eagerly anticipating her reaction, was intolerable. But so was going home to face Rosemary, who would assume that she was sick and insist on dosing her with orange juice and aspirin.

It was all too much. Leaning against the garbage bin, she buried her face in her hands and let the tears come.

"Sarah?" a voice asked softly. "Are you okay?"

"What are you doing out here?" Sarah choked out the question without uncovering her face. "You're supposed to be in history class."

"I got to school late," Charlie said. "My dad had a doctor's appointment. We only have one car, so I had to drop Mom off at work and take Dad to the doctor and then take him home after. When I got to school, I saw you down at the end of the hall headed out the back door. What's going on?"

"Somebody left a dead crow in my locker," Sarah said bluntly.

"A crow? You mean like a bird? They put a dead bird in your locker?"

"It's no worse than a fish," Sarah snapped, lowering her hands and glaring at him through her tears. She felt immediately ashamed of herself when she saw his round face flush crimson. "I'm sorry, that was horrid of me. Let's face it, I'm a horrid person. Mr. Prue said this is all my fault. If I was nicer, people would like me better and this wouldn't have happened."

"You're the nicest person I know," Charlie said gently.

"You're not going to find many people agreeing with you," Sarah said. "The crow is just a part of it. A couple of days ago somebody put a picture in my locker. It was a sketch of a gallows. Yes, a gallows," she repeated when she saw his startled expression, "like they used to hang witches. And now they're giving me the same sick message with the crow. Birds, like cats, were supposed to have been witches' familiars—evil, satanic creatures in league with the devil. I can't believe I chose that topic to write about! It's reached a point where it makes me feel queasy just to think about it."

"I know what you mean," Charlie said. "I can't deal with it either. It was bad enough reading that over two hundred people were imprisoned, but when I got to the part about Giles Corey being pressed to death with stones, I suddenly found I couldn't breathe. I mean that literally—I thought I was going to pass out. I realize now that I never should have chosen that topic. The only reason I was drawn to it was because it was highlighted."

"It wasn't highlighted," Sarah said.

"It was printed in boldface."

"No, it wasn't. I saw it that way too at first, but I was mistaken."

"That's not what the librarian says," Charlie said. "She stopped me the other day when I was passing in the hall and asked me to get those books back as soon as possible, because almost everybody wants to write papers on the witch trials. They said that topic was printed in boldface on the handout sheet."

"Ted said that too," Sarah said. "I don't understand it. It's just another weird thing on top of all of the rest of them. I hate this school, and I hate this mean little town! I know it's unfair, but I can't forgive Rosemary for bringing me here."

"Did you ever wonder why she did that?" Charlie asked her.

"It's because she fell head-over-heels crazy in love with Ted Thompson."

"And why did she do that? What's so irresistible about Mr. Thompson?"

"Nothing that I can see. He's a tyrant."

"Does your mother have a history of doing this sort of thing? Going off the deep end over married tyrants?"

"Absolutely not! This was totally out of character. My mother has always been independent and self-confident. When she's gone out with men, it's been on her own terms; she's never let anybody dominate her. I don't get it."

"Which makes you wonder what's really behind this," Charlie said. "Maybe, in her subconscious, she knew that she was meant to bring you to Pine Crest, because you had karma to fulfill here."

"Karma?" Sarah said. "That's one of those reincarnation terms."

"Do you know much about reincarnation?" Charlie asked her.

"Just that the theory is that people live more than once."

There's more to it than that," Charlie said. "The concept is that this earth is a kind of schoolhouse, and our lesson plans are laid out for us before birth. We know what they are, but that knowledge is buried in our subconscious. Sometimes it emerges during therapy. Psychologists sometimes use hypnosis to bring it to the surface so their patients will understand their compulsions. Now, hear me out, don't close your mind to this too quickly. Maybe, subconsciously, your mother knew it was part of her prebirth game plan to bring you to Pine Crest because you have karma here that you have to deal with. Mr. Thompson just punched the buttons to put her into action."

"Are you trying to tell me I'm here to be punished?" Sarah asked in horror.

"Not at all," Charlie said. "Karma isn't a punishment, it's a teaching aid. The idea behind reincarnation is that for most of us one lifetime isn't enough to learn all the spiritual lessons we're signed up for. Karma gives us a chance to retake the classes we flunk. If we mess things up in one lifetime, we're allowed to come back and experience a similar situation—maybe from another angle—so we can learn the lessons we didn't get the first time."

"That's an interesting idea," Sarah said, "but it's pretty far out."

"It's the basis of all Eastern religions, and most early Christians believed it. The Gnostic scriptures quote Jesus as saying, 'Souls are poured from one into another of different bodies of the world.'"

"What does that have to do with the crow?"

"Maybe something, maybe nothing," Charlie said. "What did Mr. Prue suggest that you do about it?"

"Consider it a practical joke."

"Mr. Prue is a jerk. I say go to your folks."

"I don't have folks, remember? I just have my mother."

"Like it or not, you also have Mr. Thompson. He's a teacher, he's got to be aware of the stuff that goes on here. He might shrug off the sketch, but he wouldn't expect you to put up with a bloody crow in your locker. That's not only sick, the person who did that could be dangerous."

"Ted would want to know why the cheerleaders hate me," Sarah said. "I can't explain that without telling him about the fortune-telling. He'll be furious, and Rosemary too, especially when they find out I stole Ted's key and was holding the sessions in his apartment."

"You'll just have to tell them and take the fallout," Charlie said. "It's not like you have much choice. But as far as our reports go, this is definitely not the subject for you and me to be writing about. We've got to switch topics."

"We can't," Sarah said. "It's too late to start researching something else."

"I wrote a paper on the Boston Tea Party for a tenth-grade social studies class," Charlie said. "I think I still have the first draft in one of my old notebooks. I'll polish it up and use it again for this class—Mrs. Larkin won't know it's a rerun—and you can write your own paper from my notes. We won't get As, but at least we won't get Fs." He threw a friendly arm around her shoulders and gently but firmly drew her away from the garbage bin. "Let's go get a milk shake."

"You mean cut school?"

"Were you planning to go to class?"

"Well, no—but you—"

"It'll be good for my physique," Charlie said. "The milk shakes at the Burger Barn are made with yogurt. If I drink enough of them, I might get skinny."

The statement was so absurd that Sarah couldn't help smiling.

"Do you know, I've never been to the Burger Barn?" she said. "It's where everybody here goes on dates, and except for one movie with Eric, which I realize now was a sop to keep me pacified, I haven't had one single date since I got here."

"Neither have I," Charlie said. "So this will be a first for us. What a boost for my ego—a date with the fabulous Madam Zoltanne! And I've even got Mom's car, so I can drive you in style to the take-out window!"

His arm around her shoulders was sturdy and comforting, and he didn't remove it as he walked her out to the student parking lot.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

"I've never heard such a load of nonsense in my life," Ted said.

Sarah stared at him in astonishment. As before, she had waited until after dinner to shatter her mother's evening, but as soon as the last of the plates had been loaded into the dishwasher, she poured out the whole sordid story. Not only did she describe the incident with the crow, but she also told them about everything that had led up to it, including Eric's proposal that they start a fortune-telling business and Kyra's participation by supplying information.

"She gave me things to tell people that she knew would make them furious," she said. "That's why they've branded me a witch. They probably chose the crow to leave in my locker because witches are supposed to use birds for familiars."

She was braced for her mother's hurt and disillusionment and expected Ted to be furious, and justifiably so. After all, she and Eric had physically invaded his apartment and thereby made him a part of a scam that would be abhorrent to him. The one thing she was not prepared for was his refusal to believe her.

"Why would I lie about something like that?" she demanded.

"For the same reason you showed us that sketch of a gallows," Ted said. "To get your mother to move back to your beloved Ventura. Ever since you got here, you've been whining about how miserable you are. To hear you talk, you'd think you'd been thrown into a snake pit. You've been feeding Rosemary one pitiful story after another: Just being in this town gives you nightmares and makes you scream in your sleep; the kids are unfriendly; people put mean pictures in your locker. Now you're asking us to believe that your classmates are out to get you by putting dead creatures in your locker because you've been conducting a fortune-telling scam out of my apartment and that both my daughter and the president of the class have been involved in it. You've gone over the line, Sarah. Your mother and I weren't born yesterday."

"Don't condemn her so fast, Ted," Rosemary said. "These are serious accusations. If what Sarah says is true, this is a nasty situation."