Chapter 3
Friday Morning, January 7th
Cole and Dinah were the last of the children to be dropped off at school. In spite of the cold winter weather and the snow on the ground, most of the student body stood congregating on the lawn in front of the entrance. This was the usual morning ritual, each student mingling with his or her group of friends, waiting until the last possible minute to walk into the seven-hour prison that was high school.
Unsurprisingly, Dinah saw her brother walk straight in through the front door without stopping, though he waved hello to several students on his way. Her brother was popular in the strangest way – known and liked by just about everyone, but with no true friends. She wondered for the millionth time why Cole couldn’t be more outgoing, why he wouldn’t make the effort. It would have been so much easier for him than it would have been for her little brother Vaughan, who had never had any friends besides his classmate, Sarah. Cole could have been at least as popular as Dinah if he wanted to, but he preferred to keep to himself. And yet there was something about him that drew others to him, made them want to be around him. She saw it whenever he walked into a room. Heads would turn and people would watch him for a moment, almost as if they hoped he would look in their direction, that he would smile at them or acknowledge them in some way. And she noticed that it became more pronounced the older he got. She had wanted to mention the effect he had to him, to try to encourage him to use it to make some friends. But she knew that it would only embarrass her painfully shy older brother, so she kept her thoughts to herself.
“Dinah!” a boy’s voice reached her from across the lawn.
She knew who had called her before she turned around. Eduardo Ramirez, her best friend since the third grade, waved as she looked at him and smiled. He was the opposite of Dinah in just about every way possible – thin where she was athletic, quiet and pensive where she could rarely keep her thoughts to herself. His own popularity at their high school had mostly been based on his friendship with her. But Dinah suspected that his dark good looks would have made him popular eventually; even if they had they never met. He looked like a teen idol, with olive skin, straight dark hair that always fell across his eyes and the whitest, straightest teeth she had ever seen. She loved staring into his dark eyes, seeing them narrow when he smiled, which he did frequently. She had felt her feelings for him change in the past year. They had changed from a true, but simple friendship into feelings that confused her with their intensity. She constantly felt the urge to reach up and brush the hair from his eyes, but worried that even such a simple act would complicate their friendship. And their friendship was something that she cherished and wouldn’t risk for anything.
He smiled as she walked up to him. “So, have you heard about the Spring Formal?” he asked without preamble. “They’re calling it Oceans of Love - as if there’s an ocean within a hundred miles of here.” He snorted as he shook his head in mock disgust. “Who comes up with these things, anyway?”
Dinah shrugged her shoulders as she responded, “You know. It’s that committee. They have nothing better to do.” She didn’t want to say what she was really thinking – that she wanted to go to the Formal. And she wanted to go with Eduardo.
“Still,” she added hesitantly. “It sounds like it might be fun. The DJ they hired is supposed to be pretty good.” She watched Eduardo’s face from the corner of her eye as she pretended to look off into the trees. She hoped her not-so-subtle hint would prompt him to ask what she knew he wanted to ask. Or what she hoped he wanted to ask.
“Yeah, I guess.” He looked over at her and caught her eyes. She looked away quickly at the same moment that he did. “It’s just so…archaic.”
“Archaic?” She giggled at his choice of words. Eduardo liked to read and his vocabulary was better than anyone she knew.
He smiled sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah. It’s like some kind of medieval mating ritual or something. All of the girls lined up on one side of the room, waiting for some terrified boy to work up the nerve to ask one of them to dance. Like all of their teen-aged angst would be resolved by that simple act or something.”
She stopped and looked directly at him. It took him a moment to realize that she had stopped walking. He turned and looked at her, a question on his face as the plumes of steam from his breath wrapped around his face.
“I guarantee you that every one of those boys who works up the nerve is happy that he did,” she told him, her expression completely neutral.
She smiled slightly and started walking toward the front doors. The first bell rang just as she passed him, his expression thoughtful as he watched her. She reached the front door and realized that he wasn’t next to her. When she turned around she saw him watching her, his brows furrowed with thought.
“You coming?” she asked with feigned impatience.
He watched her for a moment before nodding and following her through the front door, though he didn’t say a word for the rest of the morning.
Vaughan stood behind a tree near the entrance to the junior high school staring at the building as students walked through the front door. He looked at his watch nervously and saw that less than five minutes remained before the first bell would ring. He didn’t want to be late for class, but he also knew that walking up to the front door at that moment could bring about something worse. Would bring about something worse, he corrected himself silently. Leroy Wigen, the bully of their junior high, would be waiting. He always seemed to know just where Vaughan would be. And for reasons completely unknown to Vaughan, he had recently become Leroy’s favorite target.
Vaughan had known Leroy since elementary school, but had never had any problems with him until recently. Vaughan liked to keep to himself and that had always kept him from everyone’s notice. But a month earlier, Leroy had suddenly taken notice of him. And he had begun tormenting Vaughan relentlessly, calling him names and shoving him each time he passed him in the hall or in the cafeteria. It had gotten so bad that Vaughan had started hiding in any place he could find during lunch and between classes.
He scanned the area near the front doors again, but saw no sign of Leroy. He did see his best friend Sarah, though. She stood near the front doors, watching the line of cars that came down the driveway. Vaughan knew that she was looking for him. Their walk into school each morning had been a ritual of theirs since elementary school, and it was Sarah’s friendship that was the only thing that made school bearable.
He shivered in the cold air, in spite of the heavy jacket and scarf that he wore. He searched again for signs of Leroy or any of his friends, but saw none. He hoped that he would be able to walk in with Sarah, since he hadn’t been able to lately. But he wasn’t willing to risk being noticed by Leroy to do it. He glanced at his watch again and saw that it was nearly time for the final bell, and he decided that being late was worse than running into Leroy.
A knot formed in his stomach as he made ready to move toward the building. He exhaled loudly, his heart hammering in his chest. He said a silent prayer that Leroy had called in sick, though he knew that his luck could never be that good. He took a step from behind the tree and happened to glance to the right of the building just as Leroy and his band of thugs came around the corner. He stopped in his tracks and slowly backed behind the tree again and watched them from its cover.
The group of boys sauntered around the corner, Leroy at their center, talking and laughing loudly. They had a bravado that exceeded the normal level of adolescent boys because they knew they could. They owned the school and no one would say otherwise.
Vaughan heard the first bell ring and groaned softly with dismay. There was no way that he’d be able to make it down the driveway, up the front walkway and through the doors without Leroy seeing him. He knew that he was going to be late for class again, but as he watched the bully and his friends walk through the door, he didn’t care. Being late was the le
sser of two evils at that moment, so he waited in the cold for the coast to be clear.
Ms. Waverly turned the page of the book she was reading out loud. The group of kindergarteners sitting around her on the carpet looked up at her, hanging on every word. Billie loved when her teacher read to the class. Ms. Waverly had a voice that reminded her of someone, though she couldn’t say for certain who it was. It was the kind of voice that made her feel safe and warm, like when her daddy held her on his lap. But it wasn’t exactly the same. It reminded her of the dreams that she had of mommy.
She knew the woman in her dreams was her mommy, though her mommy had died when Billie was almost too young to remember her. All she knew of her beside vague memories were the pictures around the house and the stories that her brothers and sister told her. But she had been having more dreams of her mommy recently. And in her dreams it seemed like she was trying to tell Billie something, something important. Billie could tell by the look on her face that this was the case. But each time that mommy tried to tell her, her voice would disappear. It was like someone speaking to you from the other side of a thick, glass window. Billie could see her mommy shouting and gesturing urgently, her hands held out in front of her. And then she would wake up.
All of her dreams of her mommy before had been pleasant ones. She would be sitting in her mommy’s lap as she stroked her hair and sang to her. Billie didn’t know the songs that her mommy would sing, but she always remembered the tune when she woke up. Billie would hum the tune as she played with her dolls and it would make her feel safe. But the dreams that had started a month before had been less pleasant. Not only did it seem like she could never hear what her mommy had to say. It seemed like something was nearby. It was something that made Billie feel scared and alone. It made her want to run into her daddy’s bed when she woke up and tell him about her dreams.
But Billie didn’t tell her daddy about her dreams with mommy anymore. It made her daddy sad to hear about them. His eyes would fill up with tears and he would look away from Billie. She hated to see her daddy sad.
She knew that she had to tell someone. It was harder and harder to sleep at night since the newer, scarier dreams had started. And lately she had always been tired at school. Even Ms. Waverly had noticed and asked her if she was staying up late. But she had shaken her head and refused to say anything more to her teacher. But she had to tell someone.
She thought of her brothers and sisters and knew instantly who she would tell. Cole always listened to her and never made her feel like she was just six years old. He talked to her like he talked to daddy – like she was an adult. She loved that about Cole. And he always made her feel better, no matter what she told him. Billie knew that Cole would worry that she wasn’t sleeping. But she also knew that if anyone could help her figure out her dreams, it was Cole.
As she refocused her attention on the room around her, the soothing sound of Ms. Waverly’s voice wrapped her in its arms and pushed aside the thoughts of her dreams and the worry that they brought. She listened as Ms. Waverly told of the little boy and his big red dog and the trouble he always got into. Billie knew that there was no such thing as a dog that big. And she had never seen a dog that bright shade of red. But she loved the story all the same.
She put her hand in her chin and listened with a smile as the dog got into trouble yet again.
Louis stared at the chalkboard, the numbers that Mr. Holt had written across it barely registering in his mind. It wasn’t that Louis didn’t like math. He loved it. But the problems that Mr. Holt was discussing with the class were so simple. Louis could have done them in his sleep. He laughed at the thought of doing math problems in his sleep. He had never understood that expression. How you could do anything in your sleep, while you were unable to move, didn’t make any sense to him. All you could do when you slept was dream…and sleep.
“Is something funny, Mr. Ambrose?” Mr. Holt looked at him over his shoulder, the chalk poised against the board.
Louis shook his head. “No,” he answered. “Sorry.”
Mr. Holt smiled slightly as he continued to write on the board, his voice droning the meaning behind the numbers as Louis’ attention drifted again.
“Does anyone have any questions, so far?” Mr. Holt asked as he continued to write. No one answered, so he continued.
“Does anyone have any questions, so far?” the voice asked again.
The voice was Mr. Holt’s. There was no mistaking it. But it hadn’t come from the chalkboard. Mr. Holt turned around in surprise, scanning the faces of his students with obvious confusion on his face. “Who said that?” he asked. But no one responded.
The students looked around in confusion. They had heard the echo of Mr. Holt’s question as well as he did, but it was obvious that no one knew where it had come from. Mr. Holt scanned the room one last time before returning his attention to the chalkboard, the chalk scratching and creaking as it continued to cover the board in numbers. He finally finished the equation and turned to the room.
“So, based on what we’ve learned, can anyone tell me the value of x?” Mr. Holt looked at the room full of raised hands, searching for someone to pick to give the answer. He pointed his finger at Lana Thompson, who eagerly waved her hand. “Yes, Ms. Thompson?” Mr. Holt never called any of his students by their first name. He said it was a sign of respect and that respect was something you gave everyone until they had given you a reason to no longer deserve it. If he hadn’t been his teacher, Louis’ suspected that he would have actually liked the guy. At least, he wouldn’t have minded him as much.
Lana answered his question, “x is equal to seven, Mr. Holt.”
“Very good, Ms. Thompson,” Mr. Holt responded. Lana’s face broke into a smug grin. She had the highest grades in the class and imagined herself to be the teacher’s pet in each of her classes. But Louis suspected that Mr. Holt didn’t like her all that much. The guy was too smart not to know a suck-up when he saw one.
Mr. Holt returned his attention to the board and continued writing.
“And seven is equal to your I.Q., Ms. Thompson” the mysterious voice said.
Again, the voice had been unmistakable as Mr. Holt’s. He turned around in shock, the chalk falling from his hand as he demanded, “Who said that?!”
The class chuckled at what had been said, but Mr. Holt just looked angry. Louis stared back at Mr. Holt, trying to make the most innocent expression that he could. Mr. Holt’s eyes scanned the room again, his eyes landing on Louis and resting there for a moment longer than anywhere else. Louis hoped that he was just being paranoid.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Thompson,” Mr. Holt said as he looked back at Lana. “It appears that someone is playing a very poor joke on the both of us.” Lana looked miffed and crossed her hands as she looked around at her giggling classmates. But no one, including Louis looked back at her.
The bell rang loudly and the shuffle of books closing mixed with the screeching of chairs being moved signaled the students’ eagerness to leave. Louis closed his book and stood up, eager to get to lunch.
“Mr. Ambrose, I’d like to see you for a moment after school,” his teacher’s voice said. He was looking at Louis as he shoved his book into his backpack.
Louis sighed as he responded, “Okay.”
He knew that he had been caught.
Cole took a bite from his apple, the crunch of his teeth against it sounding thunderous in his ears. He sat outside on the bench in front of the school, staring at the trees in the distance and enjoying the last fifteen minutes of lunch period. It was freezing outside, but he loved the cold. And he never felt it as other people seemed to. It could be below zero and as long as he had a jacket and gloves on, he was fine.
It was quiet outside, the only noise coming from the wind as it blew through the trees and across the front lawn of the school. Even the bite of the wind didn’t bother Cole. And he loved the sound th
at it made. It was a lonely sound, but it didn’t make him feel alone, at least not in the sense that most people thought of the word. He loved the company of his family, but he felt most comfortable when he was alone. But that wasn’t completely true. He felt most comfortable when he was in the presence of nature. He often felt that he had more in common with their dog, Cody than with anyone else in his life.
He knew that it bothered his family that he liked to be alone so much, everyone except his Uncle Harper. Uncle Harper understood him like no one else. He understood all of the Ambrose children and always encouraged them in everything they did. Cole knew that his uncle and his father didn’t always get along. And he wished that he could find a way to explain to his father that it was his uncle’s presence that had made his mother’s death somewhat bearable for the Ambrose children. But Cole avoided speaking about his mother in his father’s presence. He knew that the pain of his mother’s death still affected him deeply and Cole couldn’t blame him. He missed his mother’s calm, reassuring presence every day of his life. But he also knew that his mother would have been disappointed in her family if they mourned her passing too deeply. She had loved every one of them so much that it would have caused her pain to know that they suffered.
Movement to his left caught his eye and he turned his head to see a dog walking across the schoolyard and parallel to the school building itself. It headed in Cole’s direction, though its head was turned toward the trees as it loped toward him. It was a medium-sized dog of an indiscernible breed, with tan colored fur, pointed ears and a coat like Cody’s, thick but not shaggy. Its face was decidedly feminine, with a pointed muzzle that was mostly black.
The dog stopped and sat ten yards from Cole, but it didn’t look at him. Its attention was still focused on the trees. Finally, it turned its head and looked at Cole. Cole knew that it was a female, the way he always knew things about animals. He could sense wariness from the dog, but no fear. He had never told anyone of the feelings that he got when he was around animals. The feelings had gotten stronger as he got older, and he had wanted to tell someone, since he thought it was a pretty cool thing to be able to do. But he knew that telling anyone in his family would only bring uncomfortable questions that he would be unable to answer.
He stared at the dog and she stared back, sitting and watching him. He suddenly remembered the small packet of beef jerky in his pocket and reached in for a piece. The dog’s eyes followed his movement as he pulled out a piece of the dried beef, her head following his movement. She tilted her head in a question as Cole brought the beef to his mouth and took a bite.
Cole held the jerky out in front of him, making soothing noises and trying to convey a sense of reassurance, hoping the dog would come and get it. He had no fear that the dog would harm him. He would have known if the dog’s wariness was true fear and therefore dangerous. It was the same way he knew what Cody was thinking whenever he looked into his dog’s eyes. The dog watched him for a moment before whining and lying down in the snow. Her tail wagged once as her head cocked to the side again. She watched him for a moment more before finally standing and walking slowly toward him.
Her eyes watched Cole’s face the entire time, never even looking at the jerky, though it was obvious that she wanted it. She came to within a foot of Cole’s outstretched hand and slowly reached her head out and gently pulled the jerky from his hand. She lied down again, the snow crunching underneath her. She gnawed on the piece of jerky contentedly, though her eyes continued to be locked with Cole’s. He had rarely seen a dog maintain eye contact for so long without looking away. He knew that it was a sign of aggression for a dog to stare at you, but he felt only curiosity emanating from her. The only other dog that he had seen maintain eye contact for so long was Cody.
He reached out his hand tentatively, hoping to stroke the side of her face. She didn’t look at his hand, but continued to watch his eyes instead. Her mouth continued to gnaw at the piece of jerky as his hand caressed the side of her face, digging his fingers in to massage it briefly. Her eyes close for a moment in pleasure before opening again to stare back at him.
He was so engrossed in his exchange with the dog that he didn’t hear the sound of footsteps behind him until the dog’s eyes looked up and behind him. It stood up, turned and ran back along the front of the building and around the corner. He turned around to look behind him and saw Eliza Townsend walking toward him, huddled against the cold. She smiled when she saw him looking. He smiled back and waved as the familiar butterflies started their dizzying flight through his abdomen.
Eliza was the most popular girl in school and his classmate in the eleventh grade. She was even more popular than his sister Dinah, though for completely different reasons. And Cole had been in love with her since she had transferred to Evergreen High School in their freshman year.
She was stunningly beautiful and had a self-possession that was uncommon for someone her age. But she was also unfailingly kind to everyone, which made her even more attractive.
“Was that your dog, Cole?” she asked as she sat next to him on the bench.
“Um, no,” he responded. He always felt tongue-tied whenever he spoke to her. And the fact that she was sitting next to him, less than a foot away made him shiver for the first time since he had come outside. He was pretty sure that Eliza liked him, but he doubted that it was in the way that he wanted. He suspected it was in the way that she seemed to like just about everyone.
She looked surprised by his answer. “Really?” she asked with her nose crinkled. It was such an adorable nose. “Was it a stray or something?”
He nodded as he responded, “I think so. She just came walking up to me, so I gave her some beef jerky.”
“She?” she asked with surprise. “You could tell that it was a girl?”
He cursed himself silently for his slip of the tongue. He couldn’t explain to Eliza how he knew it was a female dog without sounding like a freak. He tried to recover.
“Yeah,” he answered. “At least she looked like a girl. I don’t know for sure, though.” Everything he said to her always sounded so lame to his ears. He hoped it didn’t sound the same way to Eliza, but suspected that it did.
Cole racked his brain for something intelligent and witty to say, but his mind was blank. Eliza’s dazzling smile and clear blue eyes had struck him dumb. The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch and saving him from the uncomfortable silence.
Eliza stood up, still smiling. “See you later,” she said sweetly before turning around and walking back into school.
“Yeah,” he answered stupidly. “See you later.” He stood up and headed back toward the building as she walked through the doors. He wished that he had been able to say something of interest, something that would have made her laugh. But he didn’t. He was just too much of a dork.