by Admin
“I’m sorry. You okay?" Donald asked, snapping Raylee from her distressing feelings.
She nodded and managed to finish most of her meal while Paul shared news about the upcoming Jurassic Park movie next summer, and Katy expressed her excitement about their project in chemistry class.
Thankfully, the rest of the day went by quickly. Donald asked if she'd like to hang out at her aunt's burger place, and she'd agreed. It would be nice to do something after school than just go straight home.
Because her parents had met Donald a couple of times before, when they'd dated, they trusted him, so when she called about going to Aunt Kim's restaurant, her dad said it was okay that they went together as long as she came home before six for dinner; he had a hospital visit to make around seven.
Raylee stopped by her locker first. When she opened it, she jumped back and screamed as she stared at a hideous gray-faced rubber Halloween mask with deep hollow pockets for eyes and large black nostrils. Live worms were wiggling through one of the nostrils.
Donald was just down the hall when he heard her cries, and he came running.
"What is it?" He froze when he saw the mask. Quickly, he pulled her to his chest.
"Who would do this?" she asked, looking up into his face.
She couldn't read his expression, but then he said quietly, "I don't know, but we're reporting it to Principal Grabisch."
After the principal and vice principal followed them to the locker and retrieved the mask, Raylee felt even more shaken because the reporting made it seem all the more real. Someone was trying to scare her.
A few minutes later, Raylee was getting ready to hop into her car to follow Donald when Paul called out.
"Raylee, wait up!" He jogged over to the passenger’s side of her car. "You got a minute?"
She looked at Donald, who said, “Why don’t you come with us? We’re heading to her aunt’s burger joint for some shakes."
"Yeah, hop in," Raylee said, pushing open the passenger door.
The drive over there was less than five minutes. It was a hot spot for lots of students. When they stepped inside, many of their classmates were scattered throughout the booths.
Once they got their shakes and were situated at one of the tables, Raylee asked Paul what he wanted to talk about.
“What was that all about at lunch? Did something happen? I mean, I thought she wasn't bothering you anymore."
“I don't know, Paul." She shook her head, chewing on her straw. "I have no idea."
Paul swallowed, clearly uncomfortable about what he was about to say next.
"I'm supposed to start tutoring her in chemistry," Paul told her reluctantly. "Mr. Rivers assigned her and a couple of other students to a few tutors today, and I got Crystal."
Before he could apologize, Raylee's mouth broke into a grin. "Actually, just give it a few days. I'm sure you will see her in action."
"You're smiling about it?" Paul was confused.
"Crystal knows how to get under people's skin. She's a real pro. I think she must have taken classes. How to Make Others Insecure While Turning Yourself into the Leader of Snobs 101."
Paul smiled at Raylee. "It's nice to see you have a sense of humor about it."
"People think it's weird."
He shook his head. "No, your sense of humor isn't weird. It's really weird. But that's beside the point."
But her smile faded fast, the sick mask flashing before her. Paul sensed the sudden change.
"What's wrong?"
"Someone left a mask in my locker. Like one of those spooky Halloween masks."
He frowned. "That's odd. Any idea who?"
"No. . ." She paused. The obvious choice was Crystal. After the way she'd treated Raylee, she definitely had it in her to do something nasty like this. But the image of that hideous mask came back and she attempted to relay its description to Paul, trying to muster the words to describe the rest of what she'd seen.
"That's disturbing." He seemed angry. "Who would do that? You guys told Grabisch, right?"
"Yeah," Donald said.
Feeling uncomfortable, the threat shaking her to the bone, she changed the subject. "I better go. Lots to study for the history exam tomorrow. Donald, did you want to study too?"
"I could use a refresher."
She looked pointedly at Paul. "Are you free? I just need a little help."
"Sure." He smirked.
The Johnson house was a two-story structure built during the Victorian period. The Queen Anne style home sat far away from the main roads, the closest neighbor more than half a mile away.
Wrapping around the length of the house, a large veranda featured an ivory railing with ornate spindles and housed a pair of rocking chairs that faced the isolated road.
Gently swinging in one of the two chairs, Raylee had spent many days on that porch, able to think peacefully, the only distraction coming from the soft clinking of chimes that dangled from the beams of the roof.
When the three of them went inside, her parents were playing a game of Rumi.
Mr. Johnson, her dad, pastored Faith Church, one of two Baptist churches in town, for just over a decade. Everybody liked him. He went out of his way to help the members of the church with maintenance, construction, and all kinds of housework. And he did it all for free.
In middle school, Raylee had been concerned about her parents’ expenses. Her mom stayed at home, and the income of a pastor, especially of a small church with under a hundred members, didn’t pay the bills.
Finally, after a lot of pestering, her parents sat her down and explained that her paternal grandfather had invested in some major growth-producing stocks and transferred it all into her dad’s name once he graduated high school. He didn’t tell Raylee the exact amount of money, but he reassured her it would be enough to take care of them for the rest of their lives so long as they spent it judiciously, and that pastoring just happened to be the cherry on top.
Eventually, Raylee realized that her dad proclaiming his trust in God wasn’t merely words, but evident in the way he lived his life, in the way he faced it, with peace, joy, and reassurance.
Because both her parents' faith was strong, no matter what circumstances they faced, she found comfort in God’s Word, knowing that the Bible was written personally for her, for everyone, as a guide to life, a true love letter.
But right now, she couldn't help but notice the obvious looks of surprise in her parents' faces at seeing not just one, but two boys with her.
"There's a message from Katy on the answering machine," her mom said.
"I'll call her to see if she can join our group." Raylee picked up the phone hanging on the kitchen wall.
"Hi, Raylee. You ready for tomorrow's exam?"
"Is that all anyone can think about?"
"Word is that it's the biggest and hardest exam he's ever given."
"Great," she groaned. "I was actually calling to see if you wanted to study with me, Paul, and Donald."
"Sorry, I have to watch my little sister. But, hey, I wanted to make sure you were okay, you know, with what happened at lunch and all."
"Oh, that," she groaned again. "Yeah, I guess so."
"Well, try to have fun studying."
"Fun is not the operative word here."
Katy laughed and hung up.
Raylee spoke in private to her parents, alerting them to the mask she'd found in her locker. Their eyes opened in alarm. Before they could panic, she let them know that the principal was looking into it.
Her dad took her hand in his, squeezing gently. "Raylee, you sure we can't do anything?"
She squeezed his hand back. "No, Dad, not really."
It had to be Crystal, but how could she prove it?
He said, "Let's pray about this, that you'll be protected."
The three of them bowed their heads as he said a quick prayer to surround her with a hedge of protection. Then, she rejoined the boys.<
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A moment later, much to her surprise, Raylee was glad things felt normal, comforting, when her mom said, "I'll bring you snacks to keep you energized. Why don't you study at the coffee table?"
After she brought them snacks and left them to study, Raylee found herself frowning at the textbook, a pencil pressed between her teeth. The boys were sitting on the couch and she was across the table, sitting cross-legged on the floor. "I don't get this."
Paul leaned in. "You mean, where the war took place?"
"No, I mean, how did anyone survive without TV back then?"
They all laughed.
“Popcorn, pretzels, and Pepsi?" Raylee’s mom popped her head in from the kitchen.
Everybody nodded. Her mom grinned and busied herself in the kitchen, the sound of a Jiffy Pop tray rubbing against the iron burners.
“Your mom’s cool," Paul said.
“Yeah, she is." Raylee smiled and tucked the pencil behind her ear. “I think better this way." She pointed to her ear. “I think."
They pored over the timelines of the events before each of them taking separate parts of the chapter and summarizing their individual sections.
A few minutes later, her mom delivered the snacks and sodas and left to join Raylee’s dad outside.
As she sipped her Pepsi, Raylee couldn’t help but notice how quiet Donald was.
“Something wrong?"
Donald glanced up and offered a weak grin.
“There’s been something on my mind since I got home." He set down his pen. “You’re not going to like it."
Raylee’s heart began to thud. This couldn’t be good. Crystal was up to her old antics again.
He drew in a long breath and slowly let it out. “Raylee, we’re moving."
Not at all what she’d expected. But then again, she never knew what to expect with Donald.
“Why?" Now it was her turn to put down her writing tool.
He sighed. “My mom got a major promotion, head faculty of a prestigious university back east. She jumped at it, something she’d been waiting on for over ten years."
Now it made sense why he wanted to come over; he wanted to make things right between them before he left.
“That’s good news," Raylee said. "When do you leave?"
“As soon as junior year ends. She starts in the fall, but my parents want a few months to settle in."
Paul got to his feet, ready to leave them alone. Donald put his hand out to stop him. “No, don’t go. In fact, take care of her when I'm gone, would you?"
Paul looked down at him, a glint of surprise in his eyes. He nodded. Not wanting to drag out the news, Donald encouraged them to continue studying.
They spent another hour getting their notes compiled and put together into a makeshift study unit. By the time they were done memorizing dates of important events, playing a semi Jeopardy game about historical figures, and examining the details behind some of the “firsts" of significant inventions, they all felt ready to ace the test.
Paul’s mom came to get him first. Donald gave Raylee a hug and patted Paul's back before taking off in his car.
“You okay?" Her dad joined her in the living room once they were gone. “I caught a bit of the conversation when I was making a pot of coffee earlier."
Raylee nodded. “I’m good. We're just friends." She rose from her place and stretched; her legs had fallen asleep. "I better get to bed. I’ve got a huge history test tomorrow."
“Sounds like you all put a good amount of time into getting ready for it."
She glanced at her dad’s Bible on the kitchen counter, thinking how lousy she was at the subject. “Yeah, but I should probably pray too."
Her parents laughed.
Her dad glanced at his watch. "Welp, it's time for me to make my rounds at the hospital." He kissed her mom, placed a peck on Raylee's forehead, and headed out the door.
"I thought he had only one person to visit," Raylee said, frowning.
"Well, between the time you talked and came home, he received two more calls. One of them is Mr. Harlison's wife."
"Mr. Harlison, the mechanic?"
She nodded. "That's the one. She's got a severe case of pneumonia. Please keep her in your prayers."
Raylee's heart dropped a little. "I will, Mom. Well, I'm going to my room."
She patted her daughter's hand and nodded.
Decorated with many stuffed animals, posters of boy bands, and a miniature dollhouse completely furnished, Raylee’s room reflected her conflicting heart of being stuck between childhood and pre-adulthood.
She threw herself across the pastel pink comforter of her bed and stared out the single window of her bedroom.
The view revealed the edge of the wraparound porch with its ivory railing. She could just make out the gazebo that sat far across the huge front lawn, covered in a white and yellow rose-coated trellis and large enough to house a double bench.
She'd spent many afternoons occupying that bench, dreaming of the cute bassist of Duran Duran, daydreaming of her future, or thinking of ways to improve her acting skills before actually stepping foot on a stage.
But now, she couldn't get the sight of the horror mask out of her head. Her pulse pounded in her ears at the memory.
The first name that came to her was Crystal. Indignant, she felt the blood rushing to her face.
Needing a change of scenery, before the whole incident overtook her, she grabbed her Bible and stepped outside to the front yard. Twilight showered the darkening sky, the orange and purplish colors casting a beautiful glow across the veranda.
She prayed for Mr. Harlison's wife first, that her body would be healed, that she and her husband would be comforted in the meantime.
When her thoughts came around to herself, however, it wasn't so easy to pray. She tried to soak up some of her parents’ positivity about Silver Canyon High. Turning to the New Testament, she wasn't really sure what she might find, but she hoped to land on something reassuring. Her weakness had always been with test taking for as long as she could remember. If it hadn’t been for homework, which she did really well with, she would have failed all of her classes.
Then she came to the perfect verse. 2 Corinthians 12:9 But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.
FIVE
The history exam was brutal. Too many questions blurred together, so much information that seemed to derive from a math book. Raylee studied so hard but barely passed.
She felt so worn out by the test that she hardly remembered the rest of her school day.
Except for one conversation.
There was an arcade in Waterman that Paul invited her to. With her parents' permission, she followed Paul there.
Raylee was watching Paul trying his hand at one of the pinball machines when he said, "You were right about Crystal."
"What happened?"
"Nothing, at least not to me. She thought I was a good tutor."
"Thought?"
"Yeah, I had to get permission to drop her from my tutoring schedule. Mr. Rivers wasn't too happy about it, but I couldn't, in good faith, help her knowing how terrible she is to you."
He is such a good friend.
"I could see how she didn't care for anyone except herself. She went on and on about Ryan and the new cheers she and Gina were discussing for junior year. At one point, she actually asked what my plans were for the weekend, but then before I could answer, she went into a tirade about the "unfair" chemistry exam coming up."
Raylee nodded. "Yeah, that sounds about right. At least she doesn't hate you."
Paul tapped feverishly at his flippers, but the pinball dropped to the bottom of the machine. He turned to her. "Why do you think she hates you?"
Raylee recalled how Crystal's stare chilled her as she stood watching her from out
side the classroom.
"I don't know, but she glares at me whenever she sees me." It frustrated her that she didn't understand. "Let's not talk about it, okay?" She nodded at the game.
"Can I try?"
He scooted aside as she took over. It was fun smacking the ball against the different walls and other obstacles. At one point, she hit something that resulted in two more balls popping into the game. She managed to keep the three balls zig-zagging around for a minute, but then one by one she lost them all and watched them sink into the hidden pocket.
"So, how are you doing with Donald leaving?"
She shrugged. "Fine. We were just friends, so it wasn't awkward like when we dated."
They continued taking turns having fun at playing pinball, drank more soda, played some air hockey, and sat at a corner booth talking about school and cars. Paul had a fetish for Corvettes in particular.
"You want to come over before I drop you at home?" he asked.
"Sure."
When they got there, Paul's parents greeted her. They were nice people, always making her feel welcome, and they reminded her of her own parents, which was a good thing.
When they got to his room, Raylee stopped inside the doorway.
"You were wrong," she said.
Paul turned to her. "Wrong?"
"You don't have a fetish. You have a pathological obsession."
All along the four walls of his room were built-in shelves, and atop those shelves sat rows and rows of miniature Hot Wheels, all of them Corvettes, in different shades and years.
Paul chuckled. "I hope to have a life-sized one someday."
She shook her head, blinking in surprise. "When did this happen? Your room was actually normal last time I was here. I don't get it. What's the big deal? They're just cars."
He looked at her as though she just insulted his very existence. "These aren't just cars." He swept his arm across the room. "These are life-changing masterpieces."
"If you say so." She chuckled.
He looked at her for a moment. "You'll see. One day, I will have one of these and you will understand."
