The Revenant

by Sonia Gensler

  My heart swelled. But in the next moment all my lies came back to me—how could I possibly explain them? It would be easier to let him forget he’d ever had feelings for me. “You should walk back through the front door,” I said primly. “I don’t want anyone to see us entering the school together.”

  “No one will see us coming through the side door,” he murmured. “Once we’re inside, you can go ahead. I’ll stand back for a bit.”

  When we reached the door, he grasped my hand and pulled me around to face him. The moon cast a pearly light on the pronounced angles of his face. As he leaned in, I heard the creaking of the side door.

  “You’ve surprised me yet again, Miss McClure.”

  We jumped apart, Eli dropping my hand as we both turned toward the building. Standing in the doorway in her crow-black gown, a forbidding smile on her face, was Miss Crenshaw.

  Chapter 17

  “MISS CRENSHAW, I—”

  She held up her hand. “I’ll deal with you in a moment.” She turned to Eli. “Mr. Sevenstar, you can expect demerits for this, as I will be giving a full report to your principal. Now go back inside, before my temper gets the best of me.”

  Eli looked at me questioningly, but I merely shook my head. With a deep sigh, he walked past Miss Crenshaw into the building.

  Once he was out of sight, she looked to me. “There is no way you can explain this, so don’t try. As I said, I am surprised. Shocked, even. He is a student, Miss McClure! I should terminate your contract this very moment.”

  “Please don’t, miss,” I whispered. “He walked outside during the meeting, and I merely went to fetch him back in. There was nothing untoward in our meeting.” I bit my lip at that lie.

  The principal shook her head. “I’ve always had the most trouble with my youngest teachers. Too friendly with the students, too preoccupied with being admired. Your utmost concern should be to maintain the best example of propriety for your students.”

  “I always keep the students in mind—”

  “Miss McClure, our very reputation is at stake! Don’t you realize what we are trying to prove here? Cherokee girls deserve to move in the same circles of society as white girls. Don’t you see how your behavior undermines this and serves to prove the very stereotypes of primitive carnality we are fighting against?”

  Having no worthy reply to that, I bowed my head in defeat.

  “You may consider this your final chance, Miss McClure,” she said, her mouth grim and thin-lipped. “And I only extend it in deference to our students, who have suffered too many disruptions of late. There is just the slimmest hope you will continue teaching here beyond this term. Your behavior will decide the matter. Now get back to your room at once.”

  After that, my leash shortened dramatically. I was not allowed to go to town with the girls, and even socializing with teachers was frowned upon. Miss Crenshaw walked beside me during our daily exercise, and I was expected to remain in my room or work in the library during those rare periods of leisure afforded to teachers. Late-night visits with Olivia were strictly forbidden, and I didn’t dare bend the rules for fear of snapping the final straw of Crenshaw’s patience.

  But one night after supper, Olivia finally managed to corner me out of Crenshaw’s sight.

  “What is going on? Why has Crenshaw been shadowing you these last few days?” She leaned in. “Are you in trouble? I knew you shouldn’t go after Eli Sevenstar on your own.” She paused, then raised an eyebrow. “What happened?”

  I sighed. “I only meant to find him in the corridor and suggest he return to the meeting, but he went outside instead.”

  “And you followed him?”

  “I went out to fetch him—as a teacher should, yes? Only Crenshaw happened to be at the side door when we came in, and she was right huffed when she saw us.”

  “Of course she was! You were gone so long. She asked me where you were, but I kept my mouth shut. Willie, what were you doing out there?”

  I stared at the floor, imagining her horror if I told her the truth.

  “We were just talking,” I finally said.

  “About what?”

  “About Ella … and how strange it was that no one would speak of her death. It really was nothing, Olivia.” I glanced at her, knowing too well how lame the words sounded. She frowned but could say nothing more when we heard Crenshaw approaching.

  In truth, I was almost glad for Crenshaw’s punishment, as it saved me from having to make a more thorough explanation to Olivia. I cared too much about her good regard to confess the truth of how I’d spent my time with Eli Sevenstar. I’d been alone with a boy outdoors at night—not just a boy, a student. How could I explain? A real teacher would have ordered him back to the chapel and immediately reported him to the principal. She would not surrender to her secret fancies and fall straight into his arms.

  Working seemed the best way to take my mind off an uncertain future—and Eli. I kept on top of my lessons and marking. We made great strides in our rehearsals for As You Like It, since the seniors seemed to crave distraction. The girls used their domestic science class for fitting and sewing costumes, showing me their progress after supper every few nights. They were too busy to notice I was being punished, taking for granted it was my choice to devote every minute of the day to schoolwork.

  I could only assume Miss Crenshaw was very sly when reporting Eli’s infractions to the male seminary principal, for there wasn’t a hint of gossip concerning me. One morning during recess, I did hear the seniors chattering about how Crenshaw had caught Eli with a girl the night of the meeting. At one point, Fannie looked directly at me, and I feared she might speak my name. She must have seen me follow Eli out of the room. But she held her tongue, and their talk turned instead to possibilities among the freshmen and sophomores.

  No one but Fannie looked at me with suspicion, and perhaps I’d imagined the knowing gleam in her eyes. Most of them would never suspect a spinster teacher of something so daring and romantic. I almost wished they would.

  By mid-March, Miss Crenshaw had loosened my leash enough to allow me into town for play rehearsals. Tahlequah surprised me yet again by having its own opera house—an impressive brick building, longer than it was wide, with twenty-foot ceilings. Row upon row of seats led to a wide stage draped with a handsome red curtain. I confess it shook me a little to see the students upon the stage and hear their voices echo in the empty auditorium. I’d thought we’d be performing in a meadow somewhere, with only teachers, students, and a few school officials to watch us make fools of ourselves. But, no, this was to be an event. According to the girls, we’d be making fools of ourselves in front of the entire town.

  On our second visit to the opera house, we arrived just as a group of male seminary students wrapped up rehearsal for an upcoming oratory contest. The girls instantly launched into giggles and flutters, and my own heart did a somersault in my chest when I saw that Eli numbered among them. When he and Larkin took seats in the audience to watch our rehearsal, the girls’ tittering took on an edge of panic.

  “You mustn’t stay and watch,” cried Alice, “for Miss Crenshaw wouldn’t like it.”

  “She wouldn’t mind, as we’ve got a chaperone,” Eli said, gesturing toward me with a grin.

  “We’re working on the end of act three,” I said, my heart thumping. “It won’t make any sense to you.”

  “Oh, let them stay, Miss McClure.” Fannie’s eyes were cunning. “As I think you know, Mr. Sevenstar’s been under lock and key for ages now. Would you send him back to prison so soon? How cruel.” Before I could wonder exactly what she was hinting at, Fannie grinned and clapped her hands with delight. “I know! Let’s show them the primaries’ dance—they’ll love that.” She pointed at the seated boys with a dramatic flourish. “But you boys must leave afterward so the rest of us can rehearse in peace.”

  The primaries wore their everyday clothes, but the seniors had stashed their quaint props, crafted in domestic science, under the stage
. Suddenly there was a flurry of activity as feathered headbands and bows and arrows were distributed among the primaries. The young girls shook with nervousness, their faces grim. But as the older students clapped a rhythm for them, they regained their composure and, with grave dignity, started the pattern of their dance.

  I sneaked a peek at the boys. Larkin was grinning, but Eli looked confused. When the girls began their warrior whoops and kicks, he stood abruptly and walked out of the auditorium.

  My mouth fell open. Did he want me to follow as I had that night at the seminary? Surely not, unless he wished to be expelled.

  I turned to Lucy. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “He seemed angry,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “I wonder why.”

  I searched her face. “Lucy, is there something you’re not telling me?”

  “If you want to know why he left, you’d best ask him, Miss McClure. He can’t have gotten far.”

  “But I don’t have time to talk to him.”

  Lucy shrugged.

  I looked at the stage and then back to the door. “Keep an eye on things for a moment,” I said over my shoulder to Lucy. “I’ll return before they’re done.”

  I shouldn’t be doing this. Why am I doing this?

  I found Eli pacing the lobby, his back to me.

  “Why did you walk out?” I asked. “I’m sure you’ve hurt their feelings.”

  When he turned, his face was flushed with anger. But he said nothing.

  “At least do me the courtesy of explaining before you stalk away,” I barked.

  He took a breath. “What are you doing with those primaries?”

  “What do you mean?” I crossed my arms, anger quickening my pulse. “Do you think they aren’t good enough to be included in our play? Is their skin too dark for them to grace the stage?”

  “That’s not what I meant.” His eyes narrowed.

  “What did you mean?”

  He turned away.

  I took a breath and tried to speak calmly. “I can’t know what horrible thing we’ve done unless you tell me. Was it the dance?”

  “You think you’re doing them some great favor, don’t you?”

  “I wanted them to be included. Seems to me they’re more like prisoners than students.”

  He turned back to face me. “But why make them do that ridiculous dance?”

  “It’s supposed to be amusing—they are playing the forest people, and we thought it would be charming to dress them up as warriors.”

  “This was your idea?”

  I frowned. “Partly. Fannie had the idea for the dance, and I agreed to it.” I took a deep breath. “I don’t understand why it makes you so angry.”

  He paced a few more steps, then turned back to glare at me. “No Cherokee ever dressed like that, danced like that, or made those awful noises.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “You could have staged the Green Corn dance and not made such fools of those girls.”

  “But Fannie told me that was a tiresome custom.”

  He snorted. “If she could, that girl would drain the last few drops of Cherokee blood from her veins. She thinks anything traditional is tedious and backward. Don’t you see it was a trick? She plays Shakespeare while the full-blood girls perform a parody of our heritage. How could you not see that she’s poking fun at them?”

  “I’m sorry,” I said stiffly. “I suppose I am ignorant about what is offensive to your people.”

  “My people,” he muttered. “Does anyone want to see their traditions made ludicrous on the stage?” He sighed. “Did you ask the primaries what they wanted to perform?”

  “No,” I said quietly. “But they didn’t complain.”

  “Of course they didn’t. They wish to please their teachers.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe you fell in so easily with Fannie’s plan.”

  “Now you’re crossing a line,” I said hotly. “I don’t appreciate being lectured by a student.”

  He flinched. “I thought we’d moved beyond that.”

  “You think because you … kissed me, you can scold me as though I were a child?”

  “You kissed me first,” he hissed. His jaw tightened as he stared at me. “I don’t know what to think anymore, Miss McClure.”

  Before I could say another word, he turned and walked out the door.

  I stood there for a moment, breathing deeply to fight the tears and calm my thudding heart. Then I dragged myself back into the auditorium and tried not to cringe as everyone stared. Mae and her friends stood at the edge of the stage, their arms hanging awkwardly at their sides and ridiculous feathers drooping. I gestured for Mae to come down to me.

  “He didn’t like our dance,” she said before I could speak.

  I sighed. “No, he didn’t.”

  “On the outside he looks progressive, but inside”—she tapped her chest—“he is traditional.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Ask him.”

  I looked beyond her to the other primaries, then met her gaze again. “You don’t like that dance, do you?”

  She shrugged.

  It would have been best to think things through. To consult Olivia or even Miss Crenshaw. But when I looked at Mae, I saw her dancing as she had the night Eli sang to me under my window. And that decided it.

  “Mae, I’d like you and the group to make your own dance, just as you did that night the boys came to serenade. We’ll use the same music, for it’s too late to change that, but you decide the steps. And let’s get rid of those feathers and arrows. I really don’t care anymore about what’s progressive or traditional. I want you to dance from your hearts as beautifully as you did the first night I met you.” I smiled. “How does that sound?”

  “Sounds good, miss,” she said with a grin.

  Chapter 18

  NO MATTER HOW I TRIED TO RESIST IT, my thoughts often turned to Eli Sevenstar. Every night I meditated upon his scathing words at the opera house. His anger made me bristle, but it also shamed me. I’d been thoughtless and gullible—so eager to get Fannie under control that I’d never questioned her motives. In the end I’d given up control rather than taking it. And I would have brought pain and embarrassment to so many girls had Eli not been bold enough to speak his mind to me.

  But who was this boy, and what did he really want from me? The Eli I argued with at the auditorium was a passionate idealist—too good for a liar like me. But the Eli I kissed that cold, dark night in late February—a boy with the effrontery to kiss a teacher on the very doorstep of her school—was a shadowy, seductive creature. He’d said he could trust me, but I wondered how to feel the same about him.

  I was considering this question late one night, as I had every night since my argument with Eli, when a tremendous boom—like a cannon exploding—nearly sent me leaping straight up in the air. Through the wall I heard a muffled scream. I waited, rubbing my arms to smooth the violent prickling of hair. Just as I’d caught my breath, a flash of lightning illuminated the room, and moments later the thunder clapped again as the rain crashed against the windows.

  Olivia had warned me about spring thunderstorms. “They don’t roll gently over this part of the country,” she’d said, and after the first few storms of the season, I was forced to agree with her. And yet being prepared didn’t make the experience any easier. How could anyone keep from jumping when the thunder crashed like a cluster of iron pots falling on your head?

  Sleep was out of the question, so I lit my lamp and retrieved Swinton’s Studies in English Literature from my desk. I could at least prepare for Monday’s class while the racket continued. I was nearly finished with “Thanatopsis” when I heard it. In the pauses between thunderclaps, just audible over the slapping of rain on the windows …

  Tap, tap.

  I hadn’t heard it since before the night Eli kissed me.

  Tap, tap … plink.

  I set the book down and walked toward the window. Easing the curtain aside, I peered through rivulets of
rain into the darkness. Something was out there, and it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Perhaps it was only the electric charge to the air, but I felt certain a presence lurked outside—something separate from the storm.

  I flinched as a solid object struck the window. A thin crack snaked across the glass. I leaned closer, squinting. The lightning flashed, brightening the night sky and illuminating the grounds of the school.

  But I saw nothing aside from the lampposts and trees in the distance.

  The thunder crashed again, making my heart leap. I shook my head and leaned in, counting the beats until the next flash. When the lightning came, I focused my gaze on the ground under my window.

  A figure stood there—the dark silhouette of a man.

  I cried out in alarm and jumped back from the window, taking cover behind the chiffonier. Could it—he—have seen me? I gasped for air, the furious pounding of my heart making me light-headed. Had I imagined it?

  Just then the thunder clapped so loudly my teeth vibrated, and with the noise came the crashing of glass. As the cracked window shattered inward, tiny daggers of glass sliced my right arm. I took an awkward step backward and fell upon the floor. The rain blasted through the window, splashing my face. I rolled into a ball, hands over my head, and screamed until I was hoarse.

  A pounding at the door brought me to my senses, shutting my mouth.

  “Miss McClure?” It was Crenshaw’s voice. “Are you all right in there? I’m coming in, so don’t be frightened.”

  The door opened, and I heard the swish of nightgowns and the padding of slippered feet as more than one person approached.

  “Good Lord,” Olivia cried, “the sleeve of her gown is soaked with blood!”

  “The window has shattered. I’ve never seen the like,” Miss Crenshaw said.

  I felt a hand on the back of my head, a gentle touch. “Willie, can you sit up? You’re soaked, and I don’t want you to catch a chill. We must get your wounds seen to.”

  Slowly I uncurled my body and allowed Olivia to prop me upright.