"You don't care, if you did you'd actually have some friends."

  He took a step back. "Damn man."

  "Damn man," I mocked. "I'm not your father. Get over it."

  What was I saying? I told myself to stop. My shoulders slumped. "Peter, I'm sorry. I didn't—"

  "No," He waved me off. "You're right. You're not my dad." His face twisted, and his words sharpened. "My father wasn't a pill-popping jerk."

  "Hey, I have an idea, why don't you get out. Go home and plan out your next 'fuck with Mr. Christian idea.'"

  The class gasped.

  "Jesus, Christian," Peter said shaking his head.

  I could feel the heat inside me trying to take over. "Peter, I'm sorry. I'm not sure what is happening to me."

  "Well, good luck with figuring it out," he said and walked out the door.

  "Peter, come back." I gritted my teeth. "Young man, get back here," I demanded and moved after him, but he ignored me.

  I let out an exasperated moan as I ran my hands through my hair and hurried to the door. Standing on the threshold, I watched Peter run across the school yard.

  42

  I needed a pill more than ever. What the fuck was I going to do, take another pill and cause more hallucinations? Next, I'd be seeing spiders and unicorns. I'd be lucky to imagine anything normal. However, this one was harder to shake. It wasn't night time, and I was having a fit. I'd lashed out at my students. Worst of all, I'd attacked Peter. I hadn't physically assaulted him, but I knew what I'd said was just as hurtful.

  Anger swelled inside me, but I blew off the absurdity, stretching my neck to the left and the right. I looked at my watch. It was 2:55. I shook my head and shambled to the blackboard. "I fucking hate this town," I said under my breath.

  "Did you say something, Mr. Christian?" asked Allison.

  "I said ..." I sighed. "Is it me, or is it hard to sleep in this town?"

  It was a rhetorical question, but the kids all answered by nodding their heads. My churning anger faded. They understood. They had the same problem, and, as sorry as I felt for them at that moment, it also helped me. I let out a long satisfying sigh. "Okay, class. I'm sorry for being grouchy earlier. I'm sorry I was late, and I'm sorry we are already over our normal time. Let's relax, forget about this morning, forget about this afternoon, I'll find Peter and apologize to him later. Let's just finish up so we can all go home."

  Their tired, little faces produced faint smiles. Finally, we were all getting back to the same page.

  "Let's check our science homework and then get outta here. The question of the day, but this time it's for you guys, who did their science homework?” I said while performing an innocent hip-shaking dance.

  The agreeable little faces diminished and were replaced by wrinkled frowns, surprised looks, and averted eyes. My hips stopped.

  "I thought you just said we were going to forget about it," Weezer said.

  "Oh, come on," I whined. "Are you serious?" I put my hands over my eyes and closed them tight. "Raise your paw if you did your homework." I prayed to the Lord God Almighty, Buddha, or whoever that there would be little hands up in the air.

  I opened them.

  I stood there licking my dry, lower lip as I marveled at all the empty space above my students’ heads where their hands should be raised. Empty spaces in their heads, too, I thought.

  There were only three hands raised, Carla and the twins.

  "You three precious girls bring me your work."

  They scampered up and tossed the papers on my desk then quickly darted back like their work was going to explode.

  I looked down at their work. "Thank you, Kate, Meg, and Carla. You three may leave. Thank you for doing your work. Have a nice day."

  The twins looked at me like it was a trick, but then happily gathered up their belongings. Carla took more time, gloating in her pride. She grinned at the class and walked out of the schoolhouse with her nose raised.

  Once the doers were gone, I turned my attention to the slackers. Scratching my head, "Unbelievable," I sighed. "Just unbelievable."

  I sat in my chair and stretched out my legs. The class was quiet. I was trying not to have a meltdown. After a moment, I stood, then faced the blackboard. I reached into my pocket and pulled out one of my pills. "Screw it," I whispered and grabbed a second. I threw them in my mouth and swallowed them with spit—it was that kind of day.

  I turned back to the class. "Okay. No homework?" I was speaking in fragments, which was never a good sign. "You have. To learn. To do. Your work. Or face the consequences. So, you will not be going home. You will stay here. Until you finish your homework."

  "But Mr. Christian, it's already after three," Allison pleaded. "The moon will be up soon—"

  "It's only 3:10, and I don't care!" I shouted, and the class jumped. "You are not going home! You will do as I say. Is that understood?"

  The children cowered back into their seats like sinking shadows. There was a whispering wonder inside my mind, did I yell at Darlene like that before I hit her? I cast that worried angel out of my head. The kids needed to learn. I tilted my head from left to right. My neck was killing me. The punishment was justified. If only they had done their homework.

  The mine whistle blew.

  The arm holding my chin gave out. I must have dozed off. I looked at the class and then at my watch. It was an hour and fifteen minutes later, and the sun was sinking. "Are you guys finished?"

  No one said anything.

  "God," I groaned. I had wanted to younger kids to listen while I discussed the assignment with the older kids. Hopefully get them to ask some questions. It was a complete bust. "Eleven and younger can go."

  "What about us,” Amy asked?

  "You guys have to stay."

  There were mumbled words. "Yeah, mumble away the day. Just turn in your work and you can go."

  "You know the valley gets dark thirty minutes before the sun goes down."

  "Just finish your work!"

  Thirty minutes later the jagged shadows of the dead trees were sprawling out along the floor of the schoolhouse. With every second and every inch of the shadow's invasion, the children became more and more tense. It was palatable.

  The constant glances out the window annoyed me. No one had turned in their work. Their wide eyes darted from me to each other, then back to the windows.

  "Focus on your work," I commanded for the hundredth time.

  "Mr. Christian?" whined Scarlet.

  "What, Scarlet?" I mocked.

  She shrank down in her desk. "If we don't leave soon, we’re going to have to stay here."

  "Don't be ridiculous," I scoffed.

  "My father told me if I ever get stuck somewhere before it gets dark to stay there, no matter where I am. Are we going to stay here tonight?" Weezer yelped.

  "Class, it's not even dark yet. This is nonsense."

  The children chattered. They were becoming more and more excited.

  Jason stood. "Y'all, the sun sets at 5:32. The valley time will be five. My daddy is going to be pissed."

  "Jason, sit down. I have no idea why the town has embedded these tales into your heads."

  Jason pointed at me. "The ghost children are real, teacher."

  The class erupted in emotional agreement. Their words and cries blending together in a child's hellish chorus.

  I took off my glasses and rubbed my face. "There are no such things as ghosts!" I roared.

  "Don't talk about them like that. They might hear you," warned Weezer.

  "What if they are already outside...and they heard him?" gasped Scarlet.

  "They might get mad!" exclaimed Weezer.

  I threw my glasses back on and held out my hands to the class. "There are no ghost children. There is no—what's his name—Joshua Johnson!"

  The class went silent, then stared at the window.

  "Big City, you are going to get it," droned Jason.

  * * *

  The mine whistle blew, and the class froze.

  I hesitated but then moved to the window. In the still and quiet class my steps were loud. I peered out the window. "Why did they blow the whistle this late?"

  The whistle blew again, and the class gasped.

  "The double whistle," Amy stuttered.

  The students became hysterical.

  "What does it mean?" I asked raising my voice attempting to be heard.

  "It means get home," Amy declared.

  "You are gonna get it, teacher," Jason said shaking his head.

  It was a losing battle. I was a fool to think they were going to complete any work under those circumstances.

  A desk slid and crashed against the wall and the whole class jumped. Montana stood brooding. "Mr. Christian, we have less than fifteen minutes. It's time to go. I'm taking Amy home."

  Literate or illiterate, I'd had enough. "Fine!" I erupted. I threw up my hands. "Run! Run for your little lives. Beware of ghosts!"

  43

  The children pushed each other to get out of the door first, pushing and shoving to the point of savagery, knowing freedom was only beyond the door.

  One girl elbowed a smaller boy in the face. I expected he'd come crying to me, but he didn't. He just held his hand over the injured eye and continued the charge.

  In less than a minute, the schoolhouse was completely empty. I looked around the room, shocked. Most of the children hadn't bothered taking their belongings. One student even left their shoes. I shook my head in amazement.

  I went to the board and picked up a piece of chalk and wrote:

  Town Foolishness:

  1. Never turn your back on an open window.

  2. Never go out before the sun comes up or after the sun goes down.

  3. Unknown

  Stepping back, I studied the words and read them aloud. I looked out the window. It was indeed dusk. I continued to look outside. I was perplexed and angered, but still, the longer I stood there, the more I played over all the strange events that had occurred since I moved to Middwood: the animals, the dreams, the voices, the feeling of someone touching me when no one was there, and the girls last night. I hummed while I glanced around the room. I was cold, but more than that—I was uneasy.

  The wind picked up.

  I had been in a hurry that morning, so I hadn't brought a jacket even though I had intended to stay after school and catch up on grading. Except for Carla and the twins, I would fail them all on the assignment. I hoped a bad grade would encourage them to work harder next time. Make them think twice before not doing their homework. They had to learn.

  I took off my glasses and rubbed my eyes. "What a mess."

  Creak.

  I looked behind me.

  The blackboard was different. Even with my fuzzy vision, I could see additional words had been added under the town rules.

  An overwhelming sense of a presence washed over me. I quickly put on my glasses, stood, and investigated the room. "Who's here?"

  "Peter?"

  I waited for a response, but there was nothing.

  "Franklin?"

  I walked closer to the board. The new writing was small and angled, written in an unsteady hand.

  * * *

  I stood shocked at the words.

  "We want you to see us."

  Goosebumps burned down my arms and back, the words from the woman in my dream and the whispers on the street. A terrifying confusion overcame me. "How could—What is going on here?"

  Again, the wind blew and rocked against the old outer walls. The room was cooler now, and my mouth and lips were dry.

  Suddenly I couldn't help but think maybe if the whole town believed the rules perhaps I should at least be respectful of them. I gathered my things and fumbled as I stuffed them in my bag.

  I stepped outside the school and pivoted to lock the door.

  Sobs burst from below me.

  I spun, dropping my keys. I didn't see anything.

  The whimpers continued.

  I stepped to the edge of the cinder blocks and peered under the school.

  Scarlet jumped from her hiding place. "Let me back in."

  "Scarlet!" I grabbed my chest, trying to regain some composure. "What are you still doing here?"

  "I can't walk home alone. I just can't do it," she said crying.

  I descended the stairs, knelt and retrieved my keys. "Scarlet, you will be fine." I locked the door.

  "No, Mr. Christian! They'll kill me. I know they will. No one would walk home with me because they know the ghosts will kill me."

  "Scarlet, why would anyone do that?"

  "Not just anyone, the ghost children. And they would because I back talk my mom."

  I was irritated by the absurdity of her fear, but I couldn't leave her. "Well, come on then. I guess I'll take you home."

  She wiped at her tears. "You'll walk with me?"

  "Of course, as long as you walk with me and keep me safe."

  "Oh," she said more like a breath as she searched the growing shadows. "I wish I could, Mr. Christian, but, unfortunately, the rules do apply to me. We are on our own."

  The great thing about walking home with Scarlet would be that she'd talk so much I wouldn't have any space between my ears to think. She might even give me more motivation to walk faster.

  We made our way across the schoolyard.

  "So, you’ve never been out after dark?"

  She gasped. "No! Never!"

  Okay, perhaps it was too serious of a question. "Um, what is your favorite subject in school?"

  "What?"

  "In school. What’s the subject we’ve studied that you enjoy the most?"

  She stuck her tongue out and nibbled on it.

  Even though I wasn't surprised by her quirks any longer, I returned my eyes to the path.

  "I enjoy the speaking portions the most," she said.

  The child did have the singular talent of making the schoolroom's windows tremble with her constant chatter, but sometimes she could be funny.

  "Yes, I agree with you," I said. "You are good at speaking."

  She looked up at me. "What is your favorite subject?"

  I grinned at her question. "Well, I have always enjoyed literature the best."

  "Reading?" she groaned as she threw her shoulders and arms forward. "I hate reading!"

  "Watch your step!" my hands fumbled as I grabbed her shoulder to keep her from toppling down the hill.

  "I might have stumbled, but I didn't fall," she said in her slightly off-tune, melodic voice. She laughed and beamed up at me with her big eyes and a silly smile that sparkled even in the dimmed remains of the day. "It's the second time you saved me today."

  "You're welcome."

  "Do you think the other kids are jealous of me?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "You know," she said nodding her head, "because I'm your favorite student."

  My jaw dropped as I searched for a response. She must have really gotten me with her question because my lungs sucked in all the smells of the tree bark, decaying leaves, and the burning stoves and chimneys of the town with my gaping mouth.

  "Well, I shouldn't have favorites, but I won't tell if you won't."

  "It will be our secret."

  "Good." She craned her neck to look at the mountain. I thought she was being silly, but a deeper layer of shadow traveled up her little body, like a cloud was passing over or we walked under a tree with a massive canopy.

  "Wow," I said with enthusiasm. "Scarlet, the light—"

  "I know." She glanced down at my feet and then up to my face. "We are in the shadow of the mountain."

  The path below was dark. I was so wrapped up in the conversation with Scarlet and distracted by her physical antics that I didn't notice the deep shadow that now lay before us. I watched as the darkness rose up my body like rising water. I'm sure it was only in my head, but as the darkness swallowed us so did the cold.

  "Mr. Christian, you need to hurry. I can't protect you if you move that slow."

  44

  She took my hand, and her little legs more than doubled their speed. To keep from pulling her backward, I lengthened my stride. We speed-walked in silence until I couldn't take it. My head was rolling.

  "This is the quietest you've ever been in your life isn't it?" I laughed.

  "Keep your voice down."

  "Oh because of the gh—"

  She jerked my arm. "Don't say it."

  I looked down at her as she pulled me along. "Okay, no more talking. You know, you’re really smart."

  We walked again in silence, but she beamed from my compliment. As I stumbled down the hill, I thought about how sickly-sweet it was, the student concerned for her teacher’s well-being. She was protecting me, even if it was all stupid horse-shit.

  She finally spoke. "My mom says I'm stupid."

  Again, she caught me off guard. She was a special little girl, and she caused even my flat, tin heart to bend. "I'm sure she was only teasing."

  She shook her head energetically. "Nope. She tells me I'm stupid all the time."

  "My father used to tell me the same thing?"

  "Uh-uh?" She gasped in dumbfounded shock. "Doesn't he know you're a teacher?"

  I nodded. "Yes, he did."

  "What? Is he the principle or a mayor or somethin'?"

  I laughed. "No. He isn't any of those things. What about you Scarlet, what does your mother do?"

  "She works at the grocery store."

  Holy shit. It all clicked. Wow. Magnolia was Scarlet's mom. Who would have figured? It made me mad to think about Magnolia calling her special child stupid.

  I stopped. "Scarlet, listen to me, you are not stupid. You—"

  "Why did you stop?" Her wide eyes darted all around us. Her voice was thin and panicked, "We broke the rule. We broke the rule. We broke the third rule."

  "What's the third rule?"

  "When out after dark, don't stop; never stop moving.'"

  "Scarlet, it's been dark the whole time we've been walking."

  Someone ran by us

  . They came out of nowhere.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35