Rey got Isabel to make the call to Jocelyn Stone. Her caretaker picked up. Isabel explained that they had some information about Jocelyn’s late daughter Spring, and Rey and Christy wanted to speak to Jocelyn. As it turned out, Jocelyn had had a stroke and was unable to speak. Her chances of recovery were small and the caretaker didn’t want anyone to say anything to her that might upset her. Isabel said that she understood and she’d tell Rey. Rey said they were going to make the trip to see her anyway. It was a forty-five minute drive.
The BMW 3 Series Compact had a sun roof open and it was freezing. Tristan had explained to them what happened yesterday with the three lemon trees. He told the two of them that he and Roach had brought garbage bags and a chainsaw to the trees. Holly North had been outside the school. She told them she planned on screaming to everyone coming out of the school that the Nadine’s Puppies article wasn’t true as they handed out Hochus Mochus and Mountain Springs. By the time she was through, only twenty-five people made the walk to the trees. They all ended up finding the trees cut down and the lemons missing.
Tristan had a lot of questions and Rey told him they would explain things to him on the ride down. It was 9:45 a.m. and Christy told Brianna that it might be a day-long excursion so Brianna decided not to accompany them. Brianna said she had something to do before work anyway. When Christy asked her “what,” Brianna said she had to visit a friend.
The expressway was smooth and after Tristan closed the sun roof the drive was enjoyable. When they arrived at Sea Eagle Watch they saw the high-end homes, all clad with porches and well-kept lawns. They turned into Jocelyn’s driveway thankful for Tristan’s Mom’s car’s GPS, and sat in the car nervously waiting, trying to think of how best to proceed. Tristan said they should just be honest and explain things to her. Rey had brought the article Aba Brule had sent, “Track Star Doesn’t Go to State Championships,” and the letter sent from Aba Brule as well. If worst came to worst, Rey said, they would just ask the caretaker if Jocelyn had any of Spring’s old possessions and look for clues.
They walked up the steps and rang the doorbell.
----
The door opened and Miss Shumana stood there frowning, as if the last person on earth she wanted to see right now was Brianna Lane. Brianna felt they were on a first name basis.
“Hello Evelyn. It’s been a long time.”
Evelyn Shumana looked from right to left as if someone was hidden in the shrubs. Then her eyes came to rest on her recently purchased Mercedes E Class Sedan in the driveway. She looked down for a few moments. Then said, “Come in.”
She closed the door and revealed her living room -- a stark contrast with the run-down exterior of the green Cape Cod home. Brianna sat down on one of her top-of-the-line leather sofas.
“What do you want?” Evelyn said. “Don’t tell me you missed me.” She took out a box of cigarettes, and lit one up. Then she removed her red hair -- it was a wig. She shook her blond hair free, then took off her black glasses, and sat across from Brianna.
“I have the non-prescription ones also,” Brianna said. “Although I think while I’m reading my diploma, you’re going to be driving up past the Canadian border in that practically stolen Mercedes.”
Evelyn breathed out a stream of smoke. “You’re not exactly an angel yourself, Brianna. I think I saw you more during your senior year than any other student. Only girl I ever caught having sex in the janitor’s closet. I take it you’re still a drug abusing slut. Or did Leander turn you into an Amish princess?”
“A Queen, really.”
“Oh. Still at Lots for Littles? Using Skywarriors to get students to rebel against authority figures? I sure know you don’t buy them. Could get you fired pretty easily.”
“Perhaps, we can reach an understanding.”
“We’ll be in school for another week.” Evelyn dropped some ashes into a tray. “Every parent of practically every student has been taken care of. We’re paying them a million dollars to help further the development towards the archetypes. If anything goes wrong, Alexa has a helicopter waiting for us to be taken away to wherever we want to go. The chemical has a psychic property. It’s Spring, but it’s also whatever you believe it is. So if the meaning changes for Pemota High, it changes for everyone. So now that we understand one another, what would it take for you to,” she took another drag off her cigarette, “help us with something that looks great on a college app.” She put the cigarette out and raised her eyebrows.
----
“Well, we think she needs to see us,” Rey said. “See, the entire ninth grade at Pemota High is going to want to know what happened between Jocelyn and Spring. Just give us five minutes and if she doesn’t want to talk to us, we’ll leave.”
The caretaker, Marie, looked back into the home wrestling with this. “She can’t talk. She has damage to the left side of her brain. Spring was a long time ago. Jocelyn has had three kids since. I think it would be best if you left.”
A thumping sound from down the hall caused Marie to run back inside. They stepped into the foyer and closed the door behind them. They stood on the oriental carpet listening to Marie’s hushed whispers from down the hall. Christy took her shoes off and gave Rey and Tristan a look. They both reluctantly removed their shoes and Rey placed his backpack beside his.
Marie returned. “Come with me.” Marie walked down the hallway and they followed. “This is her second stroke,” Marie said. “Jocelyn is lucky enough to have the means to afford in-home care. Her chances of recovering are better that way.” They stopped in front of a door. “She can’t talk. And she usually doesn’t understand language. But you can try.”
Jocelyn lay in bed, white sheets covering her, and surrounded by equipment. She had short blond hair, and dim blue eyes in an exorbitantly wrinkled face. She saw them and a fearful look came into her eyes.
“Hi, Miss Stone,” Christy said. “My name’s Christy. This is Rey and Tristan.”
Rey withdrew the article from his pocket and the letter from Aba Brule. He handed them to Jocelyn. “Miss Stone,” Rey said. “We need to talk to you about your daughter, Spring.”
Jocelyn looked at the article then tossed it aside. Then she looked at the letter from Aba Brule. She let it drop on the bed sheet.
“She can’t understand it,” Marie said. “She can’t read or write.”
“How faraway is she?” Rey asked.
“A part of her brain has been compromised. Sometimes people make full recoveries,” Marie said. “But I think all you’re doing is upsetting her.”
“I have the syringe in my backpack,” Rey said. “We could just put the chemical in some water. It’s worth a try.”
“If it kills her, it’s murder,” Tristan said.
“There’s a chemical,” Rey said. “It doesn’t kill anyone who ingests it. It’s just lemon juice and purple dye. But it has an effect on brain chemistry. I just want to give her a little of it.”
Then something extraordinary happened. Jocelyn turned to them and spoke. “I want you to do it.”
Marie was stunned. “Miss Stone?”
“Is it okay?” Rey asked.
“Miss Stone?” Marie said again, now at her bedside. They all stared at her. She was silent. “It’s okay,” Marie said to Rey.
Rey went and got the vile of purple fluid. Jocelyn had a glass of water by her bedside and Rey poured a small amount of the fluid into the glass. Jocelyn picked up the water glass and drank it. They waited for almost a full minute for a reaction. Then Jocelyn turned to them and her eyes seemed to come to life.
Marie brought in two more chairs and they all sat and stared at each other. “Tell her about what’s going on,” Christy said to Rey.
Rey told Jocelyn the whole story -- everything that had happened, from Aba Brule to Inez Castel. “We want to know about Spring,” Rey said.
Jocelyn seemed to become aware that she was u
ncomfortable. She tried to lift her pillow up. Tristan stood up and helped her. She sat up. Then she spoke. She was clear, lucid even. “I knew this would happen. I always knew I’d hear about this again.”
“Tell us,” Christy said.
“I’ve read that article. Many times. The story starts the year Alexa became principal at Pemota Regional High School. In 1975.”
“How did Alexa and Spring meet?” Christy asked.
“It would have been impossible for Alexa not to know Spring. Everyone knew Spring. Spring was known for being a track star. A lot of boys liked her. There was this one group of boys. Milos Stevens. He was in the article. But that’s not who he was. He was a bad kid. Him and his friends. They were always trying to get close to Spring. Spring told me he had a tattoo: ‘American Bully.’”
Christy turned to the two of them. “Weird.”
“Before school started Alexa sent out a survey.”
“If you could meet anyone, living or dead, who would it be. How long do you want to live for. She gave us the same survey this year. Or Claudette Laurie did anyway,” Rey said.
The last question on the survey was, ‘What is the first name of the horticulturist who named the Hass Avocado? Spring answered ‘Rudolph Hass.’ That was right, of course.”
“I answered ‘Rudolph Hass’ too,” Christy said.
“At the assembly Alexa announced the answers to the questions. She said she was disappointed that only one person answered ‘Rudolph Hass.’ Spring told me there were two girls in front of her who turned to each other. One of them said, ‘didn’t you answer Rudolph too?’ And the other girl nodded. I told Spring that there was a rumor Alexa was a communist. It was only natural then -- the Cold War era -- for people to have a suspicion like that. Everyone knew she was from Russia. Spring said there was a joke where students called her ‘Joseph Stalin.’”
The three of them laughed.
Jocelyn managed a weak smile. “Shortly thereafter, Spring’s English teacher, Andrew Murray, had them write an essay on capitalism and why determining Olympic medal merits with a random number generator would not be appropriate. On Spring’s paper she received a B-. Spring told me that she saw Alexa outside school and saw her avert her eyes. Spring said that Alexa knew her. No, that wasn’t it. That Alexa was obsessed with her. I told her she was being paranoid.
“Then there were rumors among students that Alexa had won the lottery using a random number generator. Spring put two and two together and she was angry. She told me she was. She walked to school early every day. We lived close in a run-down one bedroom. Spring’s father was a struggling salesman. I found out later, after it was all over, from Ashley Fink, one of Spring’s best friends, that there was a janitor who let Spring into school early. Spring delivered an avocado to the front office -- on the counter -- with a note: ‘A Hass Avocado. From Spring.’ It went on for two weeks without any response from Alexa. But things were getting bad for Spring. Milos Steven’s and his friends turned against her. Decided she wasn’t one of the ‘in’ kids anymore and everyday Spring got a death threat in her locker. Ashley told me, after it was all over, that Spring said her teachers were teaching false material. Spring told Ashley, Andrew Murray was teaching details about Shakespeare’s love life -- of which, no one knows anything, of course.
“Ashley told me, one day, when Spring went to deliver her avocado, there was something different. A Gold Avocado was sitting on the counter.”
“Was Alexa getting Milos Steven’s to harass her?” Rey asked.
Jocelyn blinked back tears. “I’ve never known. All I know is that Alexa called an assembly for the entire ninth grade. She said that her Gold Avocado was stolen and wanted to know if anyone had any information. Spring raised her hand and said that ‘whoever stole it was probably the one person who answered Rudolph Hass on the survey.’
“Alexa said, ’That was you.’
“’My avocado isn’t gold. The avocado I chose has festered,’ Spring said. ‘All our avocados are decaying. Because of this principal.’”
“Alexa said, ‘if you think you can do a better job, come up here are show us.’ Spring stood up in front of the class and asked people to raise their hand if they answered ‘Rudolph Hass’ on the questionnaire. Most of the class raised their hand. Spring said that ever since she knew she wasn’t the only person who answered Rudolph Hass on the questionnaire she knew that she was watching everyone’s avocado fester because of Alexa. Spring said that her relay times were unfair and Alexa was a game playing psychopath. She said that everything she worked hard for, her hopes and dreams, were being taken away from her by Alexa.
“Alexa took the podium and said ninth grade was about growing up and that Spring was holding onto the past. Just because she wasn’t a good athlete anymore wasn’t Alexa’s fault. Spring’s friends told me later that Alexa dismissed the class and left it unresolved.
“Ashley told me later that one day there was a crate left in the cafeteria. It was a drink with a label on it that said, A Bottle of Avocado Juice. From Spring. They all tried it. It was bitter, purple. I don’t know what was in it.”
Rey looked down at the vile in his hand, suspecting that the pieces were beginning to come together.
“Spring begged me to take her out of school so I did. I sent her to be tutored by a recent friend of mine who would do it for free. What I didn’t know was that Alexa knew that friend better than I did. Spring died a while later of a seizure in her brain. The details were always sketchy.”
“Was there anyone else she talked to that might know more?” Christy asked.
“The janitor. I don’t know his name. But she said he let her into school early to give the avocado to Alexa on the counter. He would probably know everything.” Jocelyn looked exhausted. “Spring’s friends started applying the pressure to Alexa. That’s what the article was about. And maybe that’s why she resigned. I never knew.”
They sat quietly, pondering this. Then Jocelyn said, “after I heard the story, I wanted to know what the avocado represented to Spring. She was obviously thinking about it. Plotting the future. Maybe for a day like this one.”
“What do you think it represented?” Christy asked.
Jocelyn took a deep breath and exhaled. “’Individuality,’” she said. “Being unique. And being proud of it.”
They all sat in silence for a short while.
“Why didn’t you try harder to find things out?” Christy asked. “I mean, she was your daughter.”
Rey had been thinking. Why was she able to talk so suddenly? She had made a complete recovery and didn’t seem the least bit surprised. Then, he realized it. She had had a stroke but she was just pretending she couldn’t speak so as not to speak to the three of them about Spring. He looked up at her. “You’ve been able to talk the whole time.”
This time tears did come to Jocelyn’s eyes. “That’s all I have to say. This is all beyond me. And I’m exhausted.”
“That’s all for today. You can leave a phone number,” Marie said.
“We’ll tell you what happens,” Tristan said.
“If you care,” Rey said quietly.
Jocelyn looked away from them. Rey’s comment hung in the air.
----
Brianna unlocked Lots for Little’s, and counted her drawer. She sat behind the counter and pulled out her cell-phone. Rey, Christy, and Tristan were probably on their way home by now. Christy picked up.
“Hello, Miss Christy. Let me guess. She spoke.”
“Yeah. We found out a lot. Let’s talk when I get home.”
“You might be interested to know I cut a deal with Evelyn Shumana. You and Rey are no longer suspended. But the chemical is going to have affected everyone in the country within one week.”
“Okay. Thanks, Brianna. And don’t tell Mom. I’ll tell her Miss Shumana just made a mistake and apologized.”
/> “Okay.” She hung up.
An hour later, a woman with high cheekbones, sunglasses, and a straw hat came into the store. She wore a black overcoat. She walked up to Brianna. “A Skywarrior,” the woman said. “My Grandson says he wants the one called Skytopps.”
“Certainly,” Brianna said. “Over here.” She picked up a box. “This is Skytopps. He’s the hero in the cartoon. Each one has a helicopter on its back. And one can control them by remote control.”
“Splendid,” the woman said. She stared at Brianna. Through the sunglasses Brianna could make out her heavily eye-shadowed dark eyes. The woman smiled again. “It seems like a lovely idea. A remote controlled hero. I’m sure you agree?”
“I’m sorry,” Brianna said. “I didn’t catch your name.”
The woman smiled accentuating her cheekbones. “My name is Alexa Bartlett. And you, of course, are Brianna Lane. Word travels fast. You’ve been quite busy lately -- you and your little gang of rebels. I was just wondering, what exactly you think the problem is with what we’re doing?”
“The problem, Alexa, is that a remote controlled hero isn’t worth anything in comparison with a hero that makes his or her own choices. I’m sure you see.” Brianna tossed the Skywarrior box back onto the lot.
“Well, a bunch of yo yo’s who hardly get anything done don’t qualify as heroes. You, however, are the Achievement Child. And that means you hold a special place in my view. I wanted to meet you and tell you how much I admire your achievements.”
“Alexa, in one week, my achievements are going to consist of putting an end to whatever you’re planning to do.” Brianna crossed her arms. “Won’t that be nice.”
“You can’t fire a bullet without a hammer and some gun powder. The three archetypes will propel the students like a speeding bullet. And you’re merely trying to get in the way. But since you won’t get out of the way, I’ll have to take matters into my own hands. Like I did with Spring -- who met with an unfortunate accident. I want to make sure you know I’m the one who put an end to your existence, and more importantly your reign of personified self-confidence. Won’t that be nice.” She turned and walked out of the store, leaving Brianna with tears in eyes -- her face flushed with fear.
----
“Mom,” Rey said, as he hung his jacket up. “We met Jocelyn.”
Isabel came down the steps. “What did she say?”
“I guess she didn’t expect a high school kid to have brought a tape recorder.” He removed the tape recorder from his pocket. “You can listen. I’m going back to school on Monday. Brianna got our suspension revoked. So I have to do some homework.”
“Forget about homework. Give me the tape recorder.”
Isabel rewound the tape. She took the tape recorder with her into the living room. Rey could hear her listening as he prepared a sandwich. An hour later, she called downstairs to him. “Rey. Ex-janitors dress like homeless people. The janitor Jocelyn was talking about is Frank Brule.”
“Are you sure?” Rey called back.
“Yes. You need to get back in contact with him.”
“He didn’t tell me how.”
“Didn’t Aba Brule give a return address?”
“Yeah,” Rey said, thoughtfully. “She did.” He ran back up the steps.