Things Too Huge to Fix by Saying Sorry

by Susan Vaught

  If that whole “she took it back” speech had been full of it, then he might be opening the box right this very second.

  “But it’s mine,” I whispered again.

  Ms. Donalvan seemed to have had enough. “Out you go,” she pointed at the main door. “I don’t expect to see you unsupervised until you’re old enough to come here alone—and without peanuts, Mr. Richardson.”

  I didn’t move, not until Indri got my hand on one side, and Mac on the other. The two of them marched me out the library door.

  “It’s probably lost forever,” I mumbled as the door closed behind us. “How could I have let this happen? I can’t believe Dr. Harper just took my key.”

  “We’ll go back to Ventress,” Mac said, blinking against the really bright morning sun. “We’ll talk to him.”

  Indri dusted off her hands, like she was glad to be shed of the library and Ms. Donalvan, and any need to be polite to anybody. “You bet we will. Right now. Come on.”

  * * *

  By the time we got to the old turreted building with the Civil War stained glass, I felt all jumpy. “What if Dr. Harper’s really crazy?” I asked. “Psycho or something. If he is, he’ll just lie about having the key.”

  “We’ll make him tell the truth,” Mac said. “Pretty simple. Ms. Donalvan gave the key to him, so he’s got it, and he’s going to give it to us.”

  Indri stopped with her hand on the door to Ventress Hall. “And if he refuses—what then? You gonna knock some old guy over the head and search his stuff?”

  Mac shrugged, like that wasn’t completely out of the range of possibilities.

  “Whatever,” Indri snarled, then opened the door and stomped inside. I followed behind her, and Mac brought up the rear.

  I held my head perfectly still as we went up the steps, refusing to pay any attention to the stained glass windows and the eerie, dead soldiers watching us.

  “Isn’t the tower here supposed to be haunted?” Mac asked as we made it to the second floor.

  “Yes,” Indri said. “But Dani thinks it’s ugly.”

  I sighed. “It is ugly. All that graffiti.”

  “All that history,” she countered.

  The three of us turned toward Dr. Harper’s alcove. His office doors were pulled shut, but not completely closed. My steps slowed on the patterned rug even as Indri and Mac clattered along on the hardwood beside me.

  “Wait,” I said. They stopped, then glanced at me, and I swallowed hard. “What are we going to do? I mean, how are we going to bring this up?”

  “How about, ‘Good morning,’ ” Indri suggested. “ ‘Give us the key, right now.’ ”

  “That might not work,” Mac said. “We should think about bargaining. What do we have that he wants?”

  I thought about the papers in my backpack, what my grandmother had written to me. I almost said something about them, then decided against it. Indri didn’t say anything either. Dr. Harper knew we had the papers. If he wanted to try to get them, he would.

  “It’s your key, Dani,” Indri said. “He can’t deny it, especially not with all of us right there in his face.”

  I eyed the partly closed doors and thought about the hungry look he had gotten when he realized I might have the answers he’d been looking for—that everyone had been looking for—the explanation for the Magnolia Feud. That, plus how sincere he had seemed when he apologized to us at Square Books. I didn’t really know what he’d be capable of denying, or doing. My breathing got rough and shallow as we started forward again.

  Mac reached the doors first, and he knocked on one of them. I decided to hold my breath rather than sound like a wheezing rhinoceros.

  No answer.

  Indri knocked next, and said, “Dr. Harper? We need to speak to you.”

  Still no answer.

  Letting out one gaspy rhinoceros puff, I leaned forward and pushed one of the doors open. Sunlight streamed through his big windows and glared off the hardwood floors. Dust drifted lazily in front of his massive bookcases. The chair at his big wooden desk was empty, and his pipe and magnifying glass lay unattended. The air smelled a bit like pipe smoke. Somebody might not have been following campus no-smoking rules.

  “The doctor is not in,” Indri said in her coolest, most controlled voice even though she had lemur eyes happening in a big way. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

  Mac turned toward us for a few seconds, then pushed the door wide and strode into the office like he had been invited. With no comment at all, he started looking through the things on the table, shifting books and papers, peeking underneath them like the key would suddenly pop out and shout hello.

  “Uh, Mac,” I said. “You can’t do that.”

  “Why not?” Mac kept moving stuff around. “He left the doors open. And he took your key.”

  When Indri and I didn’t move, he shrugged and kept right on hunting around, as if to say, Hey, somebody’s got to do something.

  “Get over yourself, Richardson,” Indri grumbled. She glanced over her shoulder, then eased into the office too. Once inside, she zeroed in on Dr. Harper’s desk and started searching around his stacks of books.

  This is wrong, I said in my head, but not out loud, because truth be told. I was glad they were searching for the key. If I could only breathe and swallow and make my heart beat right, I’d search with them.

  My knees got a little wobbly. I finally made myself move forward, putting my hand on one of the doors to steady myself. “Okay,” I said. Then one more time. “Okay.” I pulled the door shut behind me without letting it latch.

  Mac grimaced. “He’s got way too much stuff in this room. It’s like a fire hazard or something.”

  Indri scooted a statue sideways on the desk, then lifted it, checking underneath. “The key could be anywhere. I wonder if he has a safe.”

  That got me moving, and I scurried over to the edge of the desk, got down on my knees, and started opening drawers. In the biggest bottom drawer, I found hanging files, which turned out to be papers and grades for his current students. I closed that one and went to the next, and found a stack of letters, apparently from his wife before she died. Those, I didn’t read, or even touch, except to pick them up and make sure the key wasn’t hidden underneath them.

  In the top right-hand drawer, I found fresh pipe tobacco, cherry-scented. I took a deep breath, enjoying the smell, but hacked and coughed when Indri slapped me on the back.

  “Ssshhh!” she whispered. “I hear something.”

  I clamped my teeth on my tongue, held my breath, and listened.

  Yes. Murmurs coming from the hall near the door.

  I got to my feet.

  Mac stepped away from the table.

  Indri got up, grabbed my arm, and towed me around the desk next to Mac. We all saw Dr. Harper’s coat closet at the same time, and as if we had planned it all along, we bolted for the hiding place.

  18

  FOND OF SCARY STORIES

  * * *

  Excerpt from Night on Fire (1969), by Avadelle Richardson, page 441

  “Are you leaving Oxford now?” Leslie asked as we sat in my classroom, which was finally only a classroom again. She wouldn’t stop with the questions, even two weeks after the Meredith riot.

  I shook my head, but I didn’t say anything sharp to her for asking—because I had considered it. I spent almost a week studying Abram’s face, hour after hour, sometimes all night long. I had thought about taking him out of Mississippi. I had thought about sending him away to our cousins in Chicago.

  But like me, my baby was born on Mississippi soil. He had roots in this state, deep into the bedrock. What would he become if I cut him loose from Mama and Aunt Jessie and me, from everyone and everything he had ever known and loved?

  “This is my home,” I told Leslie. “It’s our home, my boy’s and mine. If we leave, they win. It’s like giving up, and my parents didn’t raise me to give up, not ever.”

  Leslie rubbed the spot on
her arm where she’d had stitches from her rock cut. The doctor at the local hospital took them out for her yesterday.

  “You’d stay alive if you left,” she said.

  I sighed. “And what meaning would my life have then?”

  THE CLOSET LIGHT POPPED ON when we opened it, but as soon as we stuffed ourselves into the tiny space and closed the door, it turned off.

  Blacker than night. Blacker than a black hole. I couldn’t see a thing. All I could smell was cherry tobacco. A sweater tickled my left ear. I felt Indri lean away from the door and press into me. I leaned back, and realized I was resting against Mac’s chest.

  His hands touched my shoulders.

  A creak and a clank outside made me jump, and his fingers squeezed my arms as if to say, It’s okay. It’s going to be all right.

  Had Dr. Harper come back? Who was with him?

  My brain did stupid things, like imagining him opening Grandma’s lockbox with my key, and finding something amazing and world-changing, and calling up reporters and bloggers. I felt totally frozen by fear, even with Mac trying to make me feel better.

  “Dani?” Indri whispered.

  I flinched, feeling guilty over Mac touching me, even though it was a tiny closet—or maybe it was the fact that he was touching me and I didn’t mind so much.

  “What?” I got out around the catch in my throat.

  “What now?” she asked, no louder than a breath.

  I had no idea. My ears strained against the muffling wood and sweaters and coats in the closet, trying to pick out voices. Dr. Harper was out there, all right. And somebody else. A woman. Maybe a couple of women, and another guy.

  “Breathe,” Mac said.

  And I tried to.

  I really, really did.

  Think, I told myself.

  If we stayed in the closet, we weren’t any closer to getting the key. But if we popped out now, we’d look completely guilty of busting into Dr. Harper’s office when he wasn’t around. Which, of course, we had done, but—oh, never mind. Maybe he’d go away again, and take his friends with him.

  Yeah, right. Maybe in a few hours. I already had to go to the bathroom.

  “We probably should go talk to him,” Mac murmured. “It’s not like we’ve got a lot of choices.”

  “I’m fine here,” Indri whispered back.

  “. . . See them?” came a woman’s voice.

  My heart did a huge flip as I recognized the speaker.

  “Ohmigod, Dani, it’s your mom,” Indri whispered a little too loudly.

  “They said they were coming to see you. . . .” Mom sounded annoyed. Maybe worried. Bad combination.

  I leaned harder into Mac, and he let me. Indri leaned into me. “We’re so dead,” she whispered.

  “It’ll be okay,” Mac said into my ear. “We’ll get the key.”

  His breath felt so warm against my ear. I knew he was trying to help. I wished he would say something like, You know what? I’m sorry I was a jerk the last day of school, or, Maybe I really do like you.

  He opened his mouth again and said, “We probably should go out there.”

  I blinked fast with disappointment, and somewhere down inside, I finally accepted that I was never going to get an apology from him. That just made the awful morning so much better. Not.

  “I have to go to the bathroom,” Indri said, making my bladder weigh one hundred more pounds, instantly.

  Outside the closet, the voices got quiet.

  Then, a very, very, very, very loud Mom voice said, “Danielle Marie Beans.”

  I went rock-still. All of us did. For a long, breathless moment, I stared hard into the darkness, like I could see through the closet door.

  “Come out of that closet,” my mother instructed. “Right. Now.”

  Indri moved before I could form a thought, throwing open the closet door.

  Light blasted against my eyes, and I clamped them shut as Indri scrambled up, saying, “Bathroom, sorry, bathroom,” and just like that, she was gone and out the door.

  I opened one eye.

  My mother stood just outside the closet, arms folded tighter than any ninja librarian, glaring directly at me and Mac. Next to her stood Dr. Harper, and Indri’s mom, and my dad.

  “What. On earth. Are you doing in that closet?” Mom said. Not even a question, really. I didn’t know how to answer, or even if she wanted me to. I just opened my other eye and crawled out.

  “Bathroom,” I squeaked, following Indri. I was allowed to escape just long enough to take care of my business. But then I had to walk back into that office.

  Indri stood between my mom and hers looking like a lemur caught by poachers. She didn’t try to speak or move or anything.

  Mac stood near the now-closed closet, hands in his pockets, trying to appear relaxed but looking way nervous instead, especially since my dad’s attention was fixed on him.

  “Explain,” Mom said. “Immediately.”

  I couldn’t hear much besides the pound-pound-pound of my pulse in my ears. I couldn’t see much more than Mom’s frown, Dad’s scowl, Ms. Wilson’s concerned expression, and Indri’s wide eyes. As for Dr. Harper, he looked . . . miserable. And confused. And worried.

  I’ll be grounded for the rest of my days, Indri’s expression said. I’ll never be allowed to use my phone again. Ever.

  “It’s my fault,” I said to Mom. “We went to the library this morning to look for, um, a book we lost. It was my idea.” I glanced at Ms. Wilson. “Honest. And then when we did finally come here, Dr. Harper was out, and we let ourselves in to look for the book. All my idea.”

  “I don’t doubt that this was your doing,” Mom said.

  “Indri isn’t five years old, Cella,” Ms. Wilson said. “She could have refused to do what she knew was wrong.”

  Indri seemed to shrink as her mother spoke.

  Mom didn’t even acknowledge what her best friend said. Instead, she gestured to the messy piles we had moved and disturbed. “You came into Dr. Harper’s office while he wasn’t here.”

  “You went through his things?” Dad asked—me, specifically. His expression mixed sad with angry, making me feel twice as guilty.

  “I—uh, this is likely my fault,” Dr. Harper said, making all eyes swing to him.

  Whoa. I stared at him, waiting for him to sell us out completely, and tell my parents and Indri’s mom about the key. He had his nice-guy face on, but I knew better than to trust that.

  “We were working on some research related to the Meredith riot and the Magnolia Feud,” he said. He pulled off his glasses, cleaned a spot, and put them back on, all the while letting his smile get bigger. “Yesterday, at the library, we had to stop too early. I suspect the children needed one of the volumes I checked out, to pick up where we left off.”

  My mouth came open. So did Indri’s. I couldn’t see Mac behind me, but I heard him give a little sniff of surprise.

  “Isn’t that right?” Dr. Harper said, and I realized he was talking to me.

  “Uh, yes. Actually.”

  “There were also some articles,” Indri said, but trailed into nothing when her mom glared at her.

  My parents had matching we’re-suspicious looks. Mom’s left eyebrow lifted. “Mackinnon?” she said.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He came to stand beside me, very, very close, but not touching. “We couldn’t get past Ms. Donalvan since we didn’t have IDs or an adult with us, so we came back here. When Dr. Harper wasn’t in his office, we thought it would be okay to get started without him—but we couldn’t find our notes from yesterday.”

  Mom’s eyes narrowed. “And the closet?”

  Mac ran right out of steam with that one. Indri had gone total lemur eyes. This one was up to me. And I had nothing. Nada. Zero. Zip.

  Mom started to turn pink, which meant maaaaaaaad. Really, really mad. The gears in my brain froze solid, and not a thought would turn.

  Dr. Harper coughed. “Well, now. I can explain that one too.”

  O
nce more, all the attention in the room shifted to him.

  “Our girls here, they’re fond of scary stories, and you know the legends surrounding this building.” His smile seemed so natural, and he even winked at me. “No doubt they thought we were a bunch of ghosts come to scare them silly. Right, Dani?”

  All I could do was grin like an idiot and shrug, gesturing toward the turret. “Lots of ghosts here, yeah.”

  Indri nodded like a bobble-head doll. Mac stayed all cool and relaxed until I wanted to punch him in the shoulder.

  Mom regarded Dr. Harper for a few seconds, obviously still very suspicious, but she didn’t challenge his explanation. “What were you trying to research this morning, Dani?”

  When I didn’t answer fast enough, she asked Indri, who squiggled and opened her mouth, then closed it again as she gave me a desperate look.

  Mom looked at Mac. “Mackinnon, what were you trying to figure out?”

  Mac leaned away from me and put his hand on a stack of books on Dr. Harper’s table. “We, ah—you know. We were trying to see if Ms. Beans ever spoke to anyone about the night of the Meredith riot before Night on Fire came out. Since, you know, that’s when both my GG and Ms. Beans stopped discussing what really happened.”

  “What’s fact and what’s fiction,” I said, just above a whisper. “It’s hard to figure out where to draw the line.”

  “Yes it is,” Mom said, sounding confused, and finally, finally, just a little bit convinced.

  After a few heartbeats, Dad said, “So, we’re supposed to believe this was all just research, and that you and Dr. Harper got wires crossed, which is why you came to campus to see him and he came to our house to see you?”

  My eyes went wide. When I looked at Dr. Harper, he gave me a very, very cautious smile, as if to say, Take care now. Tread lightly.

  “Yes, sir,” I said, and wanted to kick myself for the lie.

  Time passed. Silence sat in the book-lined office with us as Mom and Dad and Ms. Wilson took turns studying our faces.