And It Harm None

by Isobel Bird

  Annie set down her bags. “This is the nice part,” she told Becka. “You don’t even want to know about the rest of it.”

  “In that case, I’m all for leaving the stuff here and splitting,” Becka said.

  “I agree,” said Annie. She took out a piece of paper and a pen from the backpack she was wearing. “Let me just leave Mallory a note so she knows this stuff is for her.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  Annie looked up and saw Mallory watching her from the doorway leading to the stairs. She wasn’t wearing her sunglasses this time, and Annie saw that she had a pretty, sad face. She looked tired.

  “I meant that you don’t have to leave a note,” Mallory said, stepping out of the shadows. “The stuff you can leave.”

  “Oh,” said Annie, unsure of what to say to the girl who had basically chased them all out of her hideout on Monday.

  Mallory looked at Becka. “Another one?” she asked. “What, have you guys got a club or something?”

  “This is my friend Becka,” Annie said.

  “Hey,” Becka said to Mallory. “Cool fort. But you need a sign outside saying ‘No Boys Allowed’ if you want it to be perfect.”

  Annie watched Mallory to see how she would react. She couldn’t believe that Becka was acting so nonchalant about the situation. She was talking to Mallory the same way she’d talked to the guy at the fountain, and once again Annie was reminded of how shy she herself usually was.

  Mallory studied Becka for a minute without saying anything. Then she looked at Annie. “I like this one,” she said. “She’s a lot better than that loudmouth you had with you last time.”

  “She means Cooper,” Annie explained to Becka, who suppressed a smile.

  “Thanks for the food,” said Mallory, glancing into the bags Annie had left for her. She reached into one of the bags and pulled out a shirt that Annie had brought. It was an old flannel one, green and blue, that Annie had worn until she was sick of it. Mallory immediately put it on, pushing her hair back so that it fell over her shoulders. Looking at her, Annie saw herself standing there, and for a moment she imagined what it would be like if she were living the way Mallory was. Suddenly she saw Mallory totally differently than she had only two days ago. She wasn’t mean; she was scared. She wasn’t refusing their help; she was trying to maintain some of her pride.

  “It looks good on you,” Annie told her.

  Mallory didn’t say anything, but she nodded. “Thanks again,” she said, picking up the bags and turning to leave.

  “We’ll come back tomorrow, if you want,” Annie said hurriedly.

  “If you want,” said Mallory as she disappeared back into the darkness.

  Annie looked at Becka and the two of them left. When they were away from the building Annie said, “I can’t even imagine living like that.”

  “I can’t either,” replied Becka. “She seems nice.”

  Nice. It wasn’t a word Annie would ever think of to describe Mallory. She thought about how nasty the girl had been to them the first time they’d met. Then she thought about how sad she’d looked putting on the old flannel shirt, like any other teenage girl who wanted to feel good. She wasn’t any different, really, from Annie and her friends. She’d just had some bad luck.

  As they walked back along the path through the trees, Annie thought about Mallory and how her life had turned out. The month before, they had been studying astrology in their weekly Wicca study group. That’s how Annie had found out about the existence of the older sister she’d never known about. At the time, Annie had thought a lot about the notion that peoples’ destinies were already written for them based on the alignments of the stars and planets at the time of their birth. She’d hated the notion, because it made her feel trapped by circumstances over which she had no control. She thought about that again now as she pondered Mallory’s situation. Was she living the life she was because of some predestined path she was walking? Or was everything a result of choices Mallory had made, purely her own doing? Annie didn’t know, just as she still didn’t really understand why events in her life had played out the way they had.

  “Can I ask you something really personal?” she inquired of Becka.

  “Hey, we’re going to be sharing parental figures and possibly a bathroom,” Becka answered. “It doesn’t get a lot more personal than that. Ask away.”

  “Do you think there was a reason for your mother’s death?” said Annie. She held her breath, hoping that Becka had meant what she’d said about being free to ask anything.

  Becka was quiet for a minute or two as they continued walking. Annie wondered if she was thinking about her mother, who had drowned shortly after Becka was born.

  “I know what you’re asking,” Becka said finally. “And I don’t know if I have an answer. I’d like to think that there was a reason for it, but to be honest I haven’t found one yet, and I’ve been thinking for a long time.”

  “Do you think about how your life might be different if she hadn’t died?” Annie asked her.

  “I probably wouldn’t be talking to you right now, for one thing,” Becka said. “And my dad and your aunt wouldn’t be off picking out china patterns or whatever it is they’re doing today.”

  “I know all that,” Annie said. “I mean, do you think you would be a different person?”

  “I can’t answer that,” said Becka. “This is the life I’ve got. I don’t know how it might have been different. Can I ask why you’re asking?”

  “I was just thinking about how sometimes everything seems like a total accident,” said Annie. “But then other times it’s like I can see these patterns happening, making sense of everything. Only usually when I start thinking that maybe there is a pattern or a plan or whatever something happens to totally blow that theory apart.”

  “My dad says writing books is sort of like that,” Becka told her. “Sometimes he’ll start off with this really great idea, and he’ll plan every single step of the book. Then he starts writing and the characters decide to do something else that has nothing to do with his plan.”

  “What does he do then?” Annie asked.

  Becka laughed. “Usually he sits around watching a lot of really bad television until he’s ready to write again,” she said. “Then he gets back to it. He says that almost every single time he has no idea why a book is turning out the way it is and he thinks he’s made a mistake and should start over, there comes this point where he suddenly sees that everything he’s been writing—all the weird things the characters have been saying and doing—is for a reason. He just didn’t know what the reason was until the story was almost finished. Then he sees it, and he’s able to finish the book because he sees the end of the story.”

  “That makes it sound like the story belongs to the characters, and he’s just kind of telling it,” Annie remarked.

  “I think that is how it is a lot of the time,” Becka told her. “He always says that the trick to writing is to come up with really interesting characters and then let them live their lives.”

  Annie thought about this as they came to the end of the path. Were Grayson Dunning’s characters living out lives that had been predestined for them when he created them? Was he like some big god, creating people and then watching them do whatever it was they had to do, and writing about it? Were she and all her friends doing the same thing, living out lives that had been selected for them by someone else? These weren’t new questions for her, but she was thinking about them in a new way.

  They emerged from the path and walked back toward the fountain. The skateboarders were still there. They’d set up a jump using an old board and some milk crates, and they were taking turns riding up it and launching themselves into the air. They looked like big, awkward birds when they left the ramp, their long arms flailing as they tried to maintain control over their boards. Then they landed, sometimes falling and sometimes triumphantly raising their hands in the air as their friends cheered. But even when they fell they had
smiles on their faces, smiles filled with the thrill of freedom and—for a brief moment—flying.

  But are they really free? Annie wondered.

  “That must have been one tough expedition,” said a voice. “You lost all your gear.”

  It was the guy from the fountain again. He was walking beside them. He’d found a cigarette somewhere and was smoking it, holding it in the corner of his mouth while he talked. The smoke trickled out and swirled around his head like bugs around an electric light.

  “We got hungry,” Becka told him. “It was a long walk.”

  “Did you find what you were looking for?” the guy asked her.

  “Maybe,” responded Becka. “Maybe not.”

  The guy nodded. “Well, if you’re all done playing Lara Croft, maybe you can help me out.”

  “Sorry,” Annie said. “We told you—we don’t smoke.”

  “It’s not cigarettes I’m after,” said the guy. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. He unfolded it, smoothed it out, and held it up. “I’m looking for this girl.”

  On the paper was a rough sketch of Mallory. Annie was shocked to see it.

  “This is my sister,” the guy said. “Her name is Mallory. She ran away from home a little over a year ago. Followed some guy. We’ve been looking for her ever since.”

  Annie looked from the sketch to the guy’s face. She remembered that Sasha had told them Mallory was running away from a guy who wanted to hurt her. Was this him? Or was he someone who wanted to help her?

  “My name is Derek Lowell,” the guy told her, smiling sadly. “I’ve been tracking her from town to town. I know she came here about ten days ago, but that’s where the trail ends. No one has seen her.” He paused, looking away. When he looked back he had a sad expression on his face. “Mom really misses her,” he said. “We all miss her.”

  Annie glanced at Becka, who gave her a guarded expression. There was something about Derek that Annie just didn’t trust. He seemed nice enough, but his appearance in Beecher Falls seemed too coincidental. Maybe he was Mallory’s brother, but there was no way to know for sure.

  “I haven’t seen anyone who looks like that,” said Annie, pretending to study the sketch again.

  “How about you?” Derek asked Becka.

  “I’m just visiting,” she answered, giving him a big smile. “Just came for a little adventure, and then I’m going back to San Francisco.”

  Derek folded the paper and put it back in his pocket. He nodded at them both. “Thanks for taking a look,” he said. “I appreciate it.”

  “I hope you find her,” Annie said. “She looks pretty.”

  “She used to be,” said Derek. “I haven’t seen her in a long time, so I don’t know what she looks like now.”

  “Well, good luck,” said Annie.

  She and Becka walked off. As soon as they were out of earshot Annie said, “Do you believe him?”

  “No,” Becka said. “I don’t know why, but I don’t.”

  “Me neither,” Annie said. “I think we need to tell the others.”

  “What about Mallory?” asked Becka. “Shouldn’t we warn her? I mean, if it is her brother, she would want to know, right? And if it’s this other guy, she would definitely want to know.”

  Annie nodded. “But we can’t do it right now,” she said. “He’s going to keep hanging around. If we head back to the pump house, he’s going to know something is up. We’ll have to do it later tonight, when he’s gone.”

  “I hope Mallory stays out of sight until then,” said Becka.

  “I think she will,” Annie replied. “She has food, and she’s not stupid. But just in case, we should tell Sasha, Kate, and Cooper right away. He hasn’t seen them yet, so maybe they can come down and keep an eye on him.”

  They went back to Annie’s house as quickly as they could. It was almost three, and Annie wanted to catch the others as soon as possible. She would leave messages at their houses telling them to call her.

  But when she and Becka walked in the door, they were greeted by the sight of Mr. Dunning and Aunt Sarah standing in the foyer, kissing.

  “Oh, hey,” Mr. Dunning said. “There you are.” He and Annie’s aunt looked slightly embarrassed at having been caught kissing.

  “Hi,” Annie said quickly, trying to rush by them to get to the phone. But Mr. Dunning stopped her.

  “Not so fast,” he said. “We have something to talk to you guys about.”

  “We already know,” Becka said, trying to hurry things along. “You’re getting married.”

  Mr. Dunning looked at Aunt Sarah. “It’s not that,” he said. He looked back at the girls. “We’ve decided where we’re going to live.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Kate wanted to kill Sherrie. Given the opportunity, she might even have done it. At the very least she would have given Sherrie a piece of her mind. It’s a good thing for her she isn’t around, Kate thought as she walked home, fuming.

  She’d gone into the science lab at the end of the day to take a look at the seed trays and to make some notes about the temperature and other conditions they were growing under. Tuesday had been Sherrie’s day to check on them, and this was the first chance Kate had had to look at the seeds since planting them on Monday.

  But when she’d pulled the seed trays out, she’d discovered that Sherrie had done them backwards. The pots that were supposed to be well watered were dry as a bone, and the ones that were supposed to receive minimal watering looked as if a hurricane had passed through sometime in the forty-eight hours since their planting. Similarly, the seeds that were supposed to be happily sunning themselves beneath the grow light Kate had rigged up were languishing in the darkest corner of the room, while the ones that had been destined for shade were spread out under the glowing suns of the lights like bathers on a beach.

  Kate had been forced to dump out the dirt and the seeds and start all over again. Repotting the twenty-four pots had taken her all period. Although it went much faster than when Sherrie “helped,” thought Kate as she walked briskly toward her house. Still, it left them two days behind in their experiment and it had made her late leaving. She hadn’t been able to catch a ride with Cooper and Sasha, and now she had to walk home alone. To make everything worse, it was getting foggy and cold.

  When she finally got home, she was looking forward to taking a long, hot shower, putting on some comfortable sweats, and spending the evening reading. Maybe I’ll finally get to look at that book about Ostara rituals Sophia loaned me, she thought. Sophia had strongly hinted that the girls might be allowed to help plan the Spring Equinox ritual that year. Ostara was the first ritual the girls had ever attended with the coven, and this would be their anniversary of meeting them and hearing about the weekly study group. It was kind of a nostalgic period for everyone, and Kate was looking forward to helping out this year and putting everything she’d learned to use.

  When she finally got home and opened the door, the phone was ringing. She was tempted to ignore it, but out of habit she walked into the kitchen and picked it up.

  “Hello?”

  “Thank Goddess, you’re finally home,” said a worried-sounding Annie.

  “Where are you?” Kate asked. “You sound funny.”

  “I’m on a cell phone,” Annie replied. “It’s my aunt’s. Listen, I don’t have a lot of time to explain. We’re on our way over to get you.”

  “Get me?” Kate said. “Get me for what?”

  “I’ll explain everything when we see you,” said Annie. “We’ll be there in five minutes. Be ready.”

  Kate hung up and sighed heavily. So much for a quiet evening at home, she thought miserably. What did Annie and the others have up their sleeves this time? she wondered. As she went upstairs to quickly change into something warmer, she hoped that whatever they had in mind, it wouldn’t be too strenuous. She was so not in the mood for running around.

  In her room, she removed the clothes she’d worn to school and
pulled on a pair of jeans and an old sweatshirt of her father’s that she had appropriated because she’d liked the faded blue color. It was much too big on her, but wearing it made her feel good. Besides, it was warm, and she was definitely feeling chilly. She hoped she wasn’t coming down with a cold or anything.

  She went back downstairs and got her warm jacket from the hall closet. Pulling it on, she went outside and waited for the others to arrive. They did a minute later, pulling up in Annie’s aunt’s car. Kate walked over and got into the back, where Cooper and Sasha were already sitting. Becka and Annie were in the front.

  “Okay,” Kate said, “what’s the big plan? It’s a school night, so I can’t be out too late. Besides, Sherrie totally flaked out on me and I think I’m getting a cold and—” She stopped, noticing the worried looks on the faces of the other girls. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  Annie was driving, looking straight ahead with a grim expression. She caught Cooper’s eye in the rearview mirror.

  “We think Mallory might be in trouble,” said Cooper.

  “Mallory?” Kate asked. “Why? What happened?” She made a face. “Did someone tell Sophia it was her who broke into the store?” she asked.

  “Becka and I took her some food and clothes today,” said Annie. “We ran into this guy who asked us if we had seen a missing girl. The picture he was showing around was a drawing of Mallory.”

  “Who is he?” Kate asked.

  “He says he’s her brother,” Becka told her. “Derek Lowell.”

  “So, is he?” asked Kate. “I mean, that would be okay, right?”

  “Mallory does have a brother named Derek,” Sasha said. “And yes, it could be him. But it could also be Ray. From what Mallory has told me about her brother, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was looking for her. But from what I know about Ray—which is a lot—I’d be even less surprised to find out that he was here. Unfortunately, from the description Annie and Becka gave me, I can’t say for sure which of them it is.”