Читать книгу One Breath Away - Heather Gudenkauf, Heather Gudenkauf - Страница 16

Mr. Ellery steps out of the room and Noah and Justin follow him to the doorway. “Go sit down. Now,” he orders, his voice so serious that even Noah knows better than to disobey him.

“What’s going on?” Beth Cragg asks nervously, chewing on her fingers. Beth is the closest thing to a friend that I have in Broken Branch. Our grandmothers are friends and had unsuccessfully tried to make our mothers into best friends when they were our age. I guess they thought this was their second chance, because ten minutes after P.J. and I arrived at the farmhouse Beth and her grandma showed up with a plate of lemon squares. But I was the one who looked like she had sucked on a lemon when I first met Beth. We seemed so different from each other. Beth is all farm girl. She wears Levi’s and John Deere sweatshirts or McGee Feed Store T-shirts every single day. Beth is one of those girls who is naturally beautiful and doesn’t even know it. She has freckled skin and pulls her shiny brown hair back into a ponytail or twists it into a braid that lies across her shoulder like a thick rope. Whenever I try to wear my hair in a braid it looks like an anorexic rattail. The boys in eighth grade love her because she is still interested in chasing toads and skipping stones across the creek and because she belongs to 4-H and raises calves that she shows at the county fair each summer. She can talk about crops and guns and goes pheasant and deer hunting with her father. All except this year, because of her parents’ divorce. In the past two months, though, we have become friends. Beth is nice and is a good listener. Plus, she was the one person, including my grandpa and P.J., who didn’t make fun of the way I dyed my hair red. Now that’s a true friend. And we do have something in common. Our parents. Mine are divorced and Beth’s mom and dad are getting a divorce. She listens to me while I bitch about having to leave Arizona to live with my grandfather and she complains about how sad her mom is and how her dad tries to make her feel guilty for taking her mother’s side.

“What’s going on?” Beth asks again, her voice shaking. I feel my stomach flip with worry and I think of P.J. Then I think of my mother back in Revelation and I want to talk to her more than anything. My cell phone is in my book bag, which is in my locker out in the hallway, and I wonder if Mr. Ellery will let me go and get it.

“We’re in lockdown,” Mr. Ellery says seriously when he comes back into the room. “Not a drill.” He runs a hand through his black hair and pulls at his goatee. He shuts the classroom door and pushes the round button, locking us in. So much for going to get my phone.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Noah asks in surprise.

“Shhh, I’m thinking.” Mr. Ellery bites his lip and looks out the small window set into the door and then turns back toward us. “Let’s all move back to that corner.” He points to the space behind his desk away from the door and windows.

“Is it someone with a gun?” Felicia asks, her eyes wide.

“Oh, my God,” someone behind me whispers.

“We don’t know that,” Mr. Ellery says quickly.

“We can’t stay in here and wait for someone to come in and blow us away,” Noah says angrily, and I realize how much of a jerk he is all over again.

“No, we stay,” Mr. Ellery says firmly. “Until we get the all clear, we stay.”

Noah looks like he is going to argue, but as one by one everyone stands and goes to the back corner of the room and begins to squeeze themselves into the space between the teacher’s desk and the wall, he decides to follow.

“The boys should sit on the outside,” Savannah says.

“Fuck that.” Noah glares at her. “I’m not going to be anyone’s shield. I want to be as close to the window as I can. I’m going to get the hell out of here first chance I get.”

“Hey, Noah, just cool it,” Mr. Ellery says in a way that makes me think he wouldn’t mind climbing out a window, too. “No one’s going to be anyone’s shield. Does anyone mind sitting on the edges?” Five hands go up, including Beth’s and Drew’s. Slowly I raise mine. “Okay, guys, thanks.” Mr. Ellery nods at us. “Everyone take a seat. No talking.” He flips the light switch and the room turns gray, matching the sky outside.

I settle onto the hard linoleum floor and rest my back against the side of Mr. Ellery’s desk. Beth sits down on one side of me, Drew on the other. Mr. Ellery first goes to the window and lowers the blinds and then goes to the phone sitting on his desk, picks it up, puts the receiver to his ear and then eventually hangs up. He pulls himself up onto the desk, his long legs not quite touching the floor. “Phone isn’t working,” he says. After a minute he reaches into his pocket for his cell phone and punches in three numbers.

After several tries he finally says, “This is Jason Ellery from the school. Something seems to be going on here.” He listens for a moment. “Yes, everyone in my class is safe and accounted for.” He listens again and then reaches for his grade book that he keeps on his desk. One by one he reads off our names in alphabetical order. My name comes last, I suppose because I joined the class midyear. “Augustine Baker,” he says, and I hear Noah snort back a laugh. “Will Thwaite’s granddaughter.” Again there is silence as he listens. “The classroom phones aren’t working, my cell is about halfway charged.” He pulls the phone from his mouth and says in a loud whisper, “Anyone have their cell phone with them?” No one says anything. We’re supposed to keep our phones in our lockers and not bring them into the classroom with us. Supposedly, some kids were using their phones to look up test answers on the internet and texting during class and the principal banned phones in the classroom. “Come on,” he says more loudly. “We don’t have time for this. Does anyone have their cell phone with them right now?” Three hands slowly go up, including Noah Plum’s. No surprise there. “Make sure they’re turned off and bring them here.”

“No way,” Noah snorts. “It’s my phone.”

“Noah, I’m not kidding around here,” Mr. Ellery says sharply. “We don’t know how long we’re going to be stuck in here. The school phones don’t work and we need to conserve the batteries on the phones we do have.”

“I want to call my mom,” Beth calls out in a soft voice. “Can I call my mom?”

“Me, too,” someone says, and there is a chorus of me, toos and I find my voice joining in. I want nothing more than to talk to my mother right now. I wouldn’t freeze her out the way I have for the past two months, answering her questions in three words or less. Okay, I guess. I don’t know. Yeah.

“I can’t stop you, but we could be here for a long time. The 9-1-1 dispatcher knows everyone is okay and will let your folks know. Someone is going to call us back when they have more info.” Mr. Ellery shrugs his shoulders and waits.

Noah immediately starts punching numbers into his phone and before I can stop myself I whisper loudly, “What an idiot.”

“Shut up, Augustine,” he snarls, but snaps the phone shut and sets it next to where Mr. Ellery is sitting. The others with phones do the same.

“Thanks, guys,” Mr. Ellery says. “You can have them back at any time. For now we just wait.” He pulls himself up onto his desk. He holds a long slim, wooden pointer that he uses to show us capitals of countries none of us will probably ever visit and I wonder if he really thinks that a simple stick can protect us from whatever is out there. But I’m still glad he’s here. Mr. Ellery won’t let anything bad happen to us.