I jerked my head after them. "See, there are other people out." My optimism faded as I said the words. The shadows swallowed the runner. "He came from the school?" The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

  I looked at Scarlet. She was frozen facing down the path where the man had disappeared. The only part of her moving was her chest, with shallow and rapid breaths.

  "Scarlet, it's okay."

  I put my hands on her little shoulders and peered into her eyes. She wasn't looking at me. She was looking behind me. I whirled around.

  It was the runner. He was blocking the path.

  * * *

  He stood before us, his shoulders bowed. He was shorter than me with a more narrow build. He looked like a teenager. His face was hidden beneath the hood of a gray sweatshirt. I stepped closer to him. "Peter?"

  He crouched like he was going to attack.

  "Take it easy," I said stepping back and pushing Scarlet behind me. "Who are you?"

  He didn't answer, but his head jutted forward like he was sniffing the air.

  I shifted my head hoping to catch any amount of light to see anything more than the void under his hood. It wasn't the fact I couldn't see his face that concerned me. It was his posture, primal and aggressive.

  Reaching behind me with one arm, I moved Scarlet with me as I side-stepped. The boy's head followed me, keeping his face masked and his shoulders in line with mine. I didn't take my eyes off him.

  "If you are here to mug me, I'm a teacher, so it's not your lucky day," I managed to keep a firm, steady tone, even though my heart was pounding.

  I tried to penetrate the shadows of his hood. It was a strange sensation, but when I tried to focus on his face, it was like he was pulling me in. I shook my head, breaking off my scrutiny.

  I pressed on. "What do you want, young man?"

  Raspy, gritty gasps.

  At first I thought it was a nearby stream mixed with the rustling leaves, but it was his breathing—long, thin, and hoarse.

  "Say something!" I shouted. "You’re frightening her. Is that what you want?"

  No response. Nothing.

  "I said you are frightening her. Please, leave."

  He lowered his body like a coiling snake.

  I stepped forward. "I said leave! Do you hear me?"

  Scarlet whimpered.

  He was locked onto us. I still couldn't see his face, but anger built in me. Clenching my fists, I took another step forward.

  He charged me.

  I threw up my fists and there was a sharp burst of blue light. I shielded my eyes.

  When I opened them, he was gone. "What the hell?"

  I spun to Scarlet. "Did you see that?"

  She didn't speak. I knelt and put my hands on hers shoulders. "Are you okay?"

  Her sobs caused her petite frame to jolt. She was scared to death, but she was okay.

  I looked up, and there he was. He was walking away from us, back toward the school. I almost called to him, but I held my tongue. I watched him walk into the darkness—one, two, three steps—then he was gone.

  I strained to see into the night. He could easily circle us and attack from another direction. I broke my stare and scanned the left and right. I tried to listen, strained to hear his dreadful breathing. There was nothing, but that didn't mean he wasn't there. Scarlet and I stood quietly and still.

  She whispered, "Is he gone?"

  "I'm not sure, but I hope so."

  He wasn't blocking us anymore, and that's all that mattered. I needed to get Scarlet home.

  "Scarlet—"

  "I told you he would come for me!" she whimpered.

  "Scarlet—"

  "I'll never back talk my mother again. I promise, God. I promise," she vowed.

  My temples were pounding, and I was trying to regain my own composure. "It's all right. He's gone. He didn't harm either of us. Let's get moving."

  She held on to me as we walked. "I knew he'd try to get me."

  My eyes searched our surroundings, "Do you know that boy?"

  "Of course, that's Joshu—I shouldn't say his name."

  "Okay. It's okay. Are you okay?"

  "I don't think so."

  I looked down at her. "What's wrong?"

  "I peed myself," she cried.

  "Don't worry about that. To be honest, Scarlet, I almost did the same." The thing was, I was being honest, I wasn't just trying to console her.

  "Don't tell any of the other kids. Promise you won't." She gazed up at me, pleading.

  "I promise. It's none of their business. Besides, I'm a teacher, and as a teacher, I'm here to tell you it happens all the time."

  "You think so?"

  "Yes, you just don't hear about it because teachers are such good people they never tell the other students."

  "Thanks, Mr. Christian."

  "Now let's get you home. Your mother will be worried sick. She'll have me fired."

  "Trust me, Mr. Christian, you don't want to owe her any favors."

  45

  Instead of going to the left toward the town, we took a right going away from it.

  After we walked for five minutes, Scarlet pointed to a single dirt path on the left of the highway. There was a sign beside it that read, "Happy Valley Trailer Park." The bare trees hugged the road so close I was sure all the residents’ cars were scratched to hell and back.

  "How long have you lived here?" I asked, breaking the silence.

  "A few months. We move a lot."

  We didn't have to walk far. It was the second trailer on the right. The number once read "Lot 13" but someone had spray painted the number sixty-nine over it in glossy red.

  Damn, that's mean.

  I guessed that was part of the reason for the excessive moving.

  I rapped on the door of the blue and white mobile home. I could see the light darken through the curtain behind the eye-level diamond-shaped window in the trailer door.

  Looking down at Scarlet, "Do you think she will open the door?"

  I turned back when the curtain moved. A cloud of smoke dissipated, revealing Magnolia's surprised face. She coughed as she took the cigarette from her mouth and opened the door. "Well, hello, handsome," she said unaware that her housecoat was open. I imagined she would wear black satin lingerie, but instead, she wore a gray and large, white flannel shirt. My mind instantly jumped to her mentioning her late husband the night we first met.

  "Oh, hi. I didn't know if you'd open the door." I noticed the covering of the little window wasn't a curtain, but a hand towel that had been nailed into the door.

  "I'd open for you anytime." She smirked, taking another drag on her cigarette.

  "I wasn't sure with all the stuff—"

  "Oh, honey, some things are worth the wrath of the dead," she gave a haggard laugh. She waved the smoke away between us. "Besides, those rules don't apply to me." Just then her eyes locked on Scarlet. She peeked back inside the house, then back out at Scarlet. Her forehead lowered, and she shouted through her bared teeth. "What the hell are you doing outside? Get in the house!"

  Scarlet hid behind me. "Mom, don't be mad."

  I stood between them. "I walked her home from school."

  "From school? You haven't been home yet?" she hissed, grabbing at Scarlet until she caught her arm.

  "You didn't even know I wasn't home?" Scarlet cried as her mother pulled her into the trailer.

  "Why the hell would I know? There's no telling what you do all that time you're alone in your bedroom," she said pushing Scarlet behind her. Magnolia turned back and laughed and smiled at me. "That's none of my business."

  From inside, Scarlet stomped through the living room and shouted, "I wish Joshua Johnson would have killed me!"

  "He would have done me a big favor," Magnolia shouted over her shoulder.

  I stood there, shocked, remembering all the terrible things my dad used to say to me.

  Once Scarlet was out of sight, Magnolia stepped out onto the small landing. She was wearing short white socks. She crossed her bare legs at the ankle and let her back fall against the trailer. It wasn't precisely a graceful act, but I didn't think that was the point. She wanted to me check out her legs. It worked.

  She lowered her smoky voice. "Thank you for walking her home. Very kind of you."

  "It was no problem."

  "No problem, huh?" She took a drag off her cigarette. "You like my legs?" She nodded. "Yeah, I got good legs. I'm only thirty-three you know?"

  I was shocked that she was that young, but I didn't know what to say. "Yes, they're nice legs."

  She tilted forward. "You want to touch them?"

  My body was heavy. Even if I wanted to, it had been too crazy of a night. I took a deep breath to clear my resolve. "I need to get home."

  She pushed off the trailer's hull and took a step a toward me. "Maybe you were already coming this way?"

  I took a step back. "No, I'm on the other side of town. She... Scarlet was scared, so I walked her home."

  Magnolia pushed her hair over her shoulder. "Oh, Scarlet, my little shame." She licked her lower lip and crossed her arms shivering. "Would you like to come in?"

  "Oh." Hello, Matt. Get the hell out of here. "No. Thank you."

  "Are you sure?"

  "I have to get up early for school tomorrow."

  "Well, it was just so nice of you to go through all that trouble. You should get something for it. Don't you think?"

  "Mom," called Scarlet from inside the house.

  "Damn kids, right?" she said.

  I laughed awkwardly. "Yeah."

  "Mom," Scarlet called again.

  Magnolia continued, "You should think about—"

  "She's calling you," I interrupted.

  "I damn well hear her," she said and called over her shoulder with thick, fake sweetness. "I can't turn my damn back on the open door, sweetheart. I've already broken one rule, do you want me to die?"

  "Don't die," I said.

  "Aw. You're so sweet," Magnolia cooed.

  What to do..."Rain check?" I squeaked.

  "Oh! Absolutely. Absolutely. You take care, handsome."

  "I will," I turned.

  "Hey!"

  I froze and looked back at her.

  "Watch your back tomorrow. Folks in the town are crazy when it comes to their kids, and this is your second strike."

  I furrowed my brow. I wanted to ask her what she meant, but maybe that was her intention. As hard as it was, I let it go. "Thanks."

  I hurried away from the trailer and, of course, I could feel her watching me. I wanted to get away from her. I felt her eyes leave my ass, then heard her muffled shouts as she went inside and closed the door, "What the hell do you want, you little slut?"

  Scarlet snapped back. "I'm not a slut!"

  "You were running around with the teacher man. Did you play all scared so he would walk you home?"

  Their voices diminished as I quickly moved farther and farther away. I hated hearing a child getting yelled at by anyone other than myself.

  As I trudged to my front door, steps landed behind me. I whipped my head around, and the gray-hooded figure was standing directly in front of me. I jumped back, ramming my shoulders into the front door.

  I held up my fists.

  "Whoa, whoa, whoa," a voice from inside the hood said and held up his hands. "Christian, it's me." The menacing figure pulled back his hood to reveal Peter.

  I shoved him. "Why do you keep doing this? What do you want from me?"

  He held his shoulder where I pushed him. "I wanted to make sure you got home safe. I—"

  "You're an asshole, and you scared the hell out of Scarlet."

  "No, I was the one who drew him away from you!" he protested.

  "Trying to help the pill-popping jerk huh?"

  "Look, I shouldn't have said that, I didn't mean to."

  I turned to the door. "How did you know?"

  "I found your pills."

  I spun around. "You broke into my house?"

  "I'm good at things like that."

  I shoved him again. "You went through my things?"

  "I thought you were one of them?"

  I opened the door. "I thought you were better than that." I went inside and slammed the door in his face.

  "I promise I'm not a bad kid."

  I was having a fuck of a night, and I was a nervous wreck. My intention of moving to the country had been to relax, but after being in Middwood for less than a week, I knew that was never going to happen.

  I went to the living room window. Peter was still on the porch with his back to the door. He pulled his hood over his head and then broke into a jog down the yard turning onto the street to the left. As he rounded onto the road, he turned, saw me, and waved. I backed away from the window and retreated to the bathroom.

  With trembling hands, I reached into the medicine cabinet and pulled out my Rose-Mary's anxiety medication. I opened the bottle and turned out the contents into my hand, but the bottle was empty. The last of her was gone.

  I chewed on the dead skin on my lip as I moved to the Tomb. I snatched my tote bag and pulled out my father's medication. Needing the bottle made my soul harden. I bitterly accepted that I needed something he had left me. The anger for him overcame my fear, which was good. I took two white pills.

  Creak.

  Someone was on the porch.

  I returned to the living room window.

  Peter was standing with his back to the window, his hood covering his hair and face.

  I started to speak, but the hairs on the back of my neck prickled. I backed up.

  He must have heard me because he slowly turned around and walked across the planks of the porch. His face stayed in shadow, hidden.

  He crept closer to the shutters.

  I crouched as some strange instinct took me over. I did not move.

  "Whoever you are, go home," I whispered.

  But the boy said nothing.

  46

  Friday, November 6, 1964

  Sunrise 7:02 am. Sunset 5:31 pm.

  * * *

  Again, I didn't get much sleep and what little rest I did get was filled with strange dreams. Luckily, I could only remember bits and pieces.

  Knowing that I could have parents waiting for me at the school, one cup of coffee would not suffice. The dilemma was I didn't have a Thermos, and I was already thirty minutes late.

  I tried to sip my coffee while I walked, but it was still too hot, and it burned my lips. I wanted to curse, but Amy's mother, Mrs. Judy, was out in the yard, so I bit through the pain.

  Wiping the hot coffee off my mouth, I waved. "Good morning. Sorry. I just burned myself."

  "Well, bad things happen to people who break the rules." She said with a sharp scowl.

  I gave a little laugh.

  "There’s nothing funny about breaking the rules," she said, then walked behind her house.

  I stopped. The words stung as they sank deep inside me. If kind Mrs. Judy was this upset with me, then there was no telling how the rest of the town would respond. I rolled my eyes at my own stupidity and continued to the school.

  I took the street further down the road that ran behind the Catholic Church. Clint was walking into the church, and we made eye contact. He shot me an evil grin and put his index fingers up to his head making horns as he shook his head in disapproval.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. I wished that both of my hands weren't full so I could flip him off. I shifted my eyes away from him and continued on to work.

  Walking up the hill, I soon realized the second cup of coffee hadn’t been the best idea. I sloshed and burned myself, all the things any normal, well-rested person would have foreseen. I was a fool and decided to make the best of it the teacher way. I made it into a math problem.

  Mr. Christian had two full cups of coffee. If he sloshed one-third of it on the ground after burning himself and spilled one-quarter on his shirt, then how much coffee did Mr. Christian have left in his cup to help him endure the day?

  Less than halfway up the hill I could hear the children playing and yelling, which raised my anxiety, which made me push harder to hurry up the mountain, which made me spill more of my coffee. "Uhhrg!"

  I hit the summit, and the kids perked up like kittens seeing their mom.

  "Mr. Christian!" Scarlet said running to meet me.

  "There he is."

  "See, he's not dead," Amy said consoling some of the younger kids.

  Jason wrinkled his face. "Does he at least have a black eye?"

  That last one caught me by surprise, but I ignored it. I was surprised no parents were waiting at the school door with shotguns and pitchforks. I'd received plenty of letters, calls, and personal appearances from parents. Thankfully, I'd never actually gotten pickaxes before. However, this is the backwoods, so I was ready.

  "Sorry I'm late guys, but I'm even more sorry about yesterday."

  Jason crossed his arms. "Did you get a whipping too for getting home so late?"

  "No. You got a whipping?"

  Jason nodded. "We all did. I was hoping you got one, too."

  "Did you get whipped for not doing your homework?"

  "Hell, no." Jason defiantly stated. "I only got the belt for getting home so late."

  I continued staring at him even after he finished talking. I shook my head in shame. I had been so selfish yesterday. I hadn’t thought about the kids getting in trouble. "I don't know what to say."

  "Well, you should give it some thought because my daddy is pissed."

  I gave him the "I'm the adult, and you're the child" look. "Jason, I know you're upset, but you need to clean up your language." I addressed the crowd. "Okay, guys, let me open the doors, and we can move inside."

  Trying to save at least a bit of my coffee, I set one cup down on the bench, then went to open the school's doors, letting the kids go inside first. I scanned the group, looking for Peter, but he wasn't there.

  "Anyone seen Peter?"

  "No, sir," said Montana as he ducked into the schoolhouse. "Not since yesterday."

  I followed and set my stuff and my other cup down on my desk. "Okay, okay," I turned to the chalkboard and erased the town rules I'd written the day before. I was writing a less personal version of my coffee math problem when I remembered my second cup out on the bench. I groaned and went outside to retrieve it.

 

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