Читать книгу Extraordinary October - Diana Wagman - Страница 14
ОглавлениеI was exhausted the next morning. I’d been frightened driving home and then running up my front walk and even inside my house. I checked under my bed and, after arming myself with my ancient red Elmo flashlight, looked inside the closet. I thought I was too old to be afraid of the dark, but that night all the terrors of my childhood came flooding back. Monsters, witches, vampires, and psycho murderers. I put a chair in front of the closet door and I kept the flashlight in bed beside me. Where was Luisa, my brain went round and round, where could she be and how could it be my fault? It wasn’t. It wasn’t. That voice was just my imagination saying the worst thing possible. The same too big imagination that pretended I could understand crows and cactus wrens and fireflies. I finally fell asleep just as the sun was coming up, a solid, heavy sleep without dreams. My alarm went off an hour later and I woke up stiff, my eyes puffy and my mouth dry. I wasn’t itching, but the bruise on my ankle had blossomed into a stylized kind of flower. I must have been scratching in my sleep because the red lines were dark blue like bruises and radiated from the flower shape, circling my calf. I definitely needed to wear my jeans to cover it up. Not that I ever wore skirts.
When I plodded into the kitchen, Dad was making his favorite banana pancakes. It seemed he was back to his old, chipper self.
“Morning. You look like you could use another couple of hours.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I can nap in English.”
“Don’t get cocky, Miss College Co-ed. English is still important. If you’re going to sleep, do it in Biology.”
He laughed, of course, but for once I didn’t, and he looked at me with concern.
“What’s up, Pumpkin? Bad dreams?”
“Luisa’s missing.” I blurted it out. “Even Jed doesn’t know where she is.”
My dad swayed as if someone had hit him. He held onto the counter.
“What? Are you okay?”
He turned to me, and his smile was big and fake. “They’ll find her. Not your problem. Don’t worry.”
But his eyes were saying something different. He looked worried. And scared.
“What’s going on with you?” I asked.
He put a pancake on a plate and handed it to me. He sounded like himself when he laughed. “You know what they say: Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” He looked at me and waited.
“All day,” I responded. It was our standard joke—something I had said when I was a little kid and tried to justify eating banana pancakes at every meal—but again I didn’t laugh. I wasn’t even hungry. “Where’s Mom?”
“She left early. Said she had another conference.”
“What? She has to get back in time for my birthday.”
“Two more days.” Dad studied me for a moment. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine. Fine. Just tired.”
“Sit down. Eat your breakfast. I’ll drive you to school.”
“Okay, thanks.” Getting a ride sounded great.
The syrup and butter were on the table, but I liked my pancakes plain. I picked it up with my fingers. That was another thing that would usually drive my dad crazy: I liked to eat pancakes with my hands. That morning he didn’t seem to notice. I watched him cooking. Usually it was one pancake for me and three for him. One for Mom and two more for him. He had one sitting on a plate on the counter beside the stove, but he hadn’t touched it.
“Delicious, Dad. Have you had one?”
“Got one right here.” He gestured to the uneaten pancake. “Yummy.”
I watched him until it was time to leave and he never ate one bite. Something was definitely different about him. I wondered if hypnotism could make a person starve to death. I wondered if a fat person could live longer without food than a skinny person? Mr. Snyder, the bio teacher, loved it when we came in with practical questions. I would ask him, I thought—if I was awake. Ha ha ha.
Dad tried to cheer me up the whole way to school. He told a string of terrible jokes continuing right up to when he dropped me off. “Hope you remembered your lunch,” he said. “You know what’s the worst thing in the school cafeteria?”
“What?”
“The food!” He was howling with laughter as he drove away.
I was glad I’d told him I’d take the bus home. I couldn’t take his cheerfulness. Not that morning, not that day. It didn’t seem fair that it was an absolutely beautiful spring day. The sun was warm, the air was soft, the grass in front of the school looked incredibly, shockingly green. How could it be so beautiful out when Luisa was missing and I was hearing voices, possibly losing my mind. Where were the clouds, the ominous sky? It wasn’t right to see kids laughing and taking off their jackets and chasing each other around like kindergarteners. I sat on a bench with my head down, waiting for the bell to ring. Someone sat down beside me. I smelled flowers and sure enough, when I looked up, it was Walker.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. “Didn’t you hear? Luisa is missing.”
He reached for my hand, but I slid away from him. “Two days until you’re eighteen.”
“So what? Tell me about Hayden College. What’s the campus like? Who’s your favorite teacher?”
“Well…” he began and stopped.
“Do you even actually go to college?”
“I’m here because…” He stopped again. “Listen. You can’t worry about Luisa.”
I picked up my backpack and stood to go into school, but he took my hand and just like the first time, I felt it all the way up my spine. My muscles went loose and I had to sit back down. “Walker.”
“October. Please. Stay away from that new kid. That Trevor. And don’t look for Luisa. Sometimes you have to sacrifice the one for the good of the many.”
“You’re crazy. That doesn’t apply here. It doesn’t.”
But for the first time there were clouds in his blue sky eyes. There was something he wasn’t telling me. I stood up again. Touch or no touch, warm, cozy feeling or not, I was out of there.
“Wait,” Walker said. “I’m sorry. Sorry. Jed told me Luisa’s with her father.”
“Her mother doesn’t think so.”
He frowned, swallowed hard. For once I knew something he didn’t. “When did you talk to her?”
“Last night—actually very early this morning. I went over to Luisa’s. Her mother’s really scared. She thought I might know where Luisa is. Why would she think that? Plus I found Luisa’s favorite Frisbee in front of my house. Something is going on and it seems I’m involved whether I like it or not.”
“You’re not,” Walker said. “You can’t worry about it. Listen to me.”
“Why should I listen to you?”
“Tomorrow at midnight this will all be settled.”
“You’re not making any sense.” In the bright, spring sun, I suddenly got the chills. I put my hands over my eyes. I swayed, nauseated. Walker put his hand on my arm and the nausea went away. Everything went away. I was weightless, floating.
“Oh.” Walker said. “I wish… I wish—”
“Leave her alone.” It was Trevor. I crashed back to earth, opened my eyes.
“I’m not doing anything.” Walker jumped to his feet.
“Then why is she crying?”
I didn’t know I had been. “I’m crying for my friend!”
“I heard about Luisa,” Trevor said. “Everybody’s talking about her. I’ll help you find her.”
“You will?”
“We can drive around. We’ll find her. Come on.”
“Right now?”
He nodded and just like the day before I was ready to skip school and go with him. His mischievous smile, his smooth skin, his shiny eyes made me want to go, do, try new things. He shook back his shaggy hair. “Right now,” he said.
“Don’t go anywhere with him.”
“It’s none of your business,” I said to Walker.
“None of your business,” Trevor repeated.
Walker’s angry words came out in a growl. “You don’t care about her. This is about you and what you want.”
“She knows how I feel.” Trevor stood in front of me. “Don’t you, October? You know how I feel about you.” He looked into my eyes and cupped my face with his large hands. His touch didn’t make me go warm and relaxed. Instead, my palms began to sweat. My heart began to race. And then the itch returned. My arm, my neck, between my shoulder blades. I put my hand on Trevor’s arm. It was like a rock. But I had to scratch. It wasn’t attractive, but I had to. I stepped away from both of them and my head cleared although the itch continued. I scratched. I had to.
“See what you did?” Walker said.
Trevor just grinned. “I see what’s happening to her. What’s about to happen.” He turned to me. “October. Let’s go.”
It was more a command than an invitation and that didn’t make me happy.
Walker frowned. “Please stay with me.”
That was nicer and he was sweet, but so weird and half the time I couldn’t understand what he was talking about. At least Trevor was my age. I’d never had any guy seriously interested in me. Now it seemed I had two. I looked from one to the other. Trevor’s face was broad, his hands large, and his fingernails were not exactly clean, but his eyes were like a puppy’s and his olive skin was perfect. Walker was so handsome, almost too handsome—he made me feel inadequate—and, as I’ve said before, he felt familiar in some way. The morning bell rang and everyone began to file into school. I had to go. Walker put his hand on my shoulder. I gave a little jolt as I felt myself flow into him. I can’t explain it any other way, but it was as if my blood was a river rushing toward him, impossible to stop or slow down.
“Let go of her,” Trevor said.
“Make me,” Walker challenged.
“You may be something special in your world—”
Trevor launched himself at Walker, grabbing him around the waist. Walker fell back against the bench. Trevor punched him hard. Walker brought his knee up between Trevor’s legs. Trevor yelled. Someone across the quad yelled, “Fight! Fight!” I was livid. I hated both of them at that minute. Maybe I should have been thrilled or flattered that two guys were fighting over me, but they just looked like a couple of stupid idiots.
“Stop it!” I said. “Stop it right now!”
