by Diane Hoh
I, too, am stubborn. And I know what I must do.
Soon…it must be soon….
Chapter 10
JO’S MIND BEGAN RACING. When could someone have put that tube in her plastic bag? Had to be at Vinnie’s. Where had she put the bag while she was eating? At her feet, under the table? On the table, at her elbow? She couldn’t remember. She had left the table twice: once to go to the restroom, another time to pick out a song on the jukebox. Had she taken the bag with her? She didn’t think so.
She had thought no one was paying any attention to her. She’d been wrong about that. Someone must have been watching her every move.
Jo shuddered.
Kelly, emerging from the bathroom with her hair turbaned in a white towel, caught the shudder. “Are you cold? They’re getting pretty stingy with the heat lately, if you ask me.”
“No, I’m not cold.” Jo debated for a second, and then reached down and picked up the tube. “I found this in my bag from Oscar’s. I didn’t buy it.”
Kelly took the tube, read the label. She shrugged. “The clerk must have given it to you by mistake.” She handed the tube back to Jo.
“Kelly, this bag is from a sporting-goods store. They don’t carry makeup.”
Kelly sat down on her bed. “They carry sunscreen, for skiers. How do you know they don’t carry this stuff, too?”
“They don’t. Someone else put that tube in my bag. Probably at Vinnie’s.”
A frown creased Kelly’s smooth, unblemished skin. “Why?” Then her face cleared. “Oh. Is this…is this like the hat? Someone telling you not to go out without…without hiding your…what happened to your face?”
Jo nodded. “Looks that way. I don’t care about that. I’m not worried about what my face looks like.” That was almost true. “What I hate is the idea that someone is watching me. Did you see anyone at our booth when I went to the restroom or the jukebox?”
Kelly shook her turbaned head. “I don’t think so. I mean, there were lots of people in and around the booth. But I don’t remember noticing anyone we don’t know.” She got up and went to the dresser mirror to remove the towel and shake her dark hair free. “So, are you going to use it?”
“Use what?”
“That stuff. That Ban-Blem. When your bandages come off, I mean. It might help.”
Hurt and angry, Jo rolled over and faced the wall.
Kelly continued blithely, “You’re coming skiing with us Wednesday afternoon right? No one has classes after one o’clock, so we’re going over to the state park. You can bring Evan if you want.”
Jo, feigning sleep, didn’t answer. Okay, so Kelly had been more polite than the person who put that tube of Ban-Blem in the bag, but wasn’t her message pretty much the same one: Johanna, hide your imperfections from the public? Use the stuff in the tube, use a veil, use a mask, use whatever you have to, but please don’t offend our eyes by making us look at your scars. Kelly probably didn’t even know she had said that. But she had.
Wednesday proved to be a perfect day for skiing. Cold, but sunny and bright, with a brilliant blue winter sky overhead.
“Are you sure it’s okay for you to go skiing?” Nan asked when she arrived at room 428 wearing a powder-blue ski outfit and matching visored cap. “I mean, maybe you should check with the doctor first.”
“I didn’t break my leg, Nan,” Jo said crossly. “What does my face have to do with skiing?”
Nan shrugged. “I was just trying to be helpful, Jo. You don’t need to bite my head off. What if you fall? Your bandages will get all wet.”
“So? I’ll put new ones on.”
Nan shrugged. “I’m just trying to help. Excuse me for caring.”
Jo flushed guiltily. I am really getting paranoid, she thought, apologizing to Nan.
Later that afternoon while Jo was having a mug of cocoa, Missy Stark was kind enough to inform her that the patio door had been repaired. “And my father says we’ll pay your medical bills,” she added stiffly. “Although personally, I think whoever pushed you should have to pay them.”
“Pushed me?” Jo echoed. “No one pushed me. I just got swept up by the crowd.”
They were in the lodge, sitting on a bench close to a roaring fire in the huge stone fireplace. Beyond the huge picture windows on one side of the room, skiers milled about on the slopes in the bright sunshine. Upbeat music filled the big, cozy room where Jo and Missy sat among the others taking a break from the wind and sun and snow.
“Are you sure?” Missy fixed narrowed eyes on Jo’s bandaged face. “No one else fell. In that whole crowd, you were the only one who got knocked off your feet. It looked to me like someone rammed you into that door on purpose.” Having said that, Missy jumped up in response to her name being called out. Reminding Jo to send any medical bills to her father, Missy left the lodge.
Jo stared into the fire. Pushed? Missy thought someone had deliberately pushed her through that door?
That was crazy. Who would do that? No one. No one would do that.
Missy didn’t know what she was talking about. There’d been a total panic about the fire. How could Missy possibly know what had happened?
Pushed? No way.
But when Evan arrived, a cup of hot coffee in his hand, Jo told him about Missy’s disturbing theory.
“She thinks someone pushed you?” He sipped his coffee thoughtfully. “So, is that a possibility? You made someone at the party mad? Maybe a jealous boyfriend who freaked when he saw you falling into my clutches?”
Jo shook her head. “No. I didn’t start making people mad at me until after I went through the door.”
Evan didn’t laugh. “So you don’t think you were pushed?”
“Only by the crowd. Couldn’t be helped.”
“You’re sure?”
Was she? Jo struggled to remember. True, the crowd had been pressing in on her, forcing her feet forward. But…hadn’t she felt something in the small of her back, something that wasn’t just the vague pressure of a mass of bodies?
A…hand?
It could have been a hand reaching out for support…someone afraid they were about to fall. “Yes,” she said with as much certainty as she could manage, “I’m sure.”
Because with everything else that had happened, she simply couldn’t allow herself to believe that someone at that party, someone she knew, had deliberately shoved her into that glass door. That was just too scary.
Anyone who might have done such a thing would have to have known she’d be hurt. Seriously hurt. Even…killed. Dr. Trent had said in the infirmary that night, “Another quarter-inch to the left and this chunk of glass in your neck would have hit the carotid artery. You’re a very lucky girl.”
She didn’t have any enemies like that.
Did she?
Carl and Reed, Kelly and Nan joined them at the fireplace then, bringing with them harmless, casual conversation. Other students arrived, among them several people with obvious sun and wind burns. A tall, thin, dark-haired girl from Jo’s English class had cheeks as red as her parka, and her lips were already spotted with white, the beginnings of some serious blistering. Her name was Tina Downs. She was friendly, and funny. Jo had always liked her.
“Oh,” Tina moaned as she sat down on the floor, “I stayed out there too long. I left the Quad with no sunscreen. I should have come in here every time you did, Jo. Why didn’t you drag me out of that sun?”
“You wouldn’t have gone,” a blond-haired boy sitting beside her said. “You were too busy showing off. Although,” he added admiringly, “you are pretty good. Care to give me a few lessons?”
“In what?” Tina asked, although she was clearly finding it difficult to talk. She groaned again. “I know I’m blistering, I can feel it. I’m going to show up at Cath’s party Friday night looking like I was staked out in a desert!”
Looking at Tina’s blistering lips, Jo was grateful that she’d put sunscreen on the parts of her face that weren’t covered with bandages. A sunbu
rn like that must be really painful. She didn’t need that right now.
Tina Downs wouldn’t be getting a lot of sleep tonight.
“You really ought to stop in the infirmary when you get back, Tina,” Jo said. “They might be able to give you something so you won’t be so miserable. Your lips are blistering fast.”
Clearly already miserable, Tina nodded. “Maybe I will.”
They all stopped at Burgers Etc. on the way home. Then the combination of fresh air and exercise hit them and they piled into their cars and headed back to campus.
As she crawled into bed that night, Jo rejoiced. She had gone skiing, and nothing terrible had happened. No nasty messages hidden in her ski jacket’s pockets, or in her shoulderbag, no packages delivered to the lodge or the ski slope, and no staring or whispering. She was old news now. Everyone was used to her bandages.
She hadn’t even fallen.
Not a bad day, she thought, letting sleep overtake her. Not a bad day at all. Maybe it’s all over now. The person who made it his mission in life to make me as miserable as possible probably got tired of the game. Or ran out of ideas.
About time.
Hoping he hadn’t picked some other innocent victim to target, Jo drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 11
WELL, THIS IS JUST great! Now I’ve got two of them to deal with! Sometimes it just gets to be too much.
Tina Downs is an idiot. Who goes skiing on a day like this without sunscreen? I could hardly stand looking at her. Those disgusting blisters. I thought she’d never leave Burgers so I could eat in peace. And I was starving.
I have decided to let her live, in spite of her stupidity. Her blisters, ugly though they are are temporary.
But Johanna’s scars will be permanent. I must forget about Downs, who will recover, and concentrate on Jo, who won’t.
I just hope I don’t run into Downs before those blisters heal. I might not be able to control myself. Sometimes I don’t seem to have total control. Probably because I take my responsibilities so seriously.
I know They would be so proud of me, if They knew.
One day, I’ll tell Them.
I can’t wait to see the looks on Their faces.
Now, about that party at Nightmare Hall….
Chapter 12
THE DAY OF THE party at Nightmare Hall arrived without incident. There were no more packages, no more “stunts” designed to intimidate Jo into hiding her face from the public.
I was right, she thought, whoever it was finally tired of the game.
She tried on the Catwoman mask more than once, adjusting the thin, lightweight latex around her tape and bandages. The real problem was her thick, curly hair. There was too much of it. But after several attempts, she managed to stuff it up under the helmet-like mask so that not a single auburn strand showed.
On the afternoon of the party, she stopped in at the infirmary to have her stitches checked. The racket from the construction outside was deafening. “Are they ever going to finish that wall?” she asked Dr. Trent as the doctor inspected her needlework.
Dr. Trent shook her head. “Who knows? The ground started to freeze up on them sooner than they’d expected, and that put them behind schedule. I’ve taken to wearing earplugs when I’m not with a patient, to save my hearing.”
She declared the stitches to be in fine shape and promised to take them out early the following week. “Until then, just keep them dry, okay, Jo?”
Nodding, Jo slipped into her copper-colored suede jacket. “Am I going to have a scar?”
“Umm, maybe a tiny one.” The doctor smiled. “Just enough to give your beautiful face an exotic touch. Nothing to worry about.”
Satisfied with that, Jo left the infirmary.
A few hours later, Lester dorm was chaotic. Cath’s party, unlike Missy’s, was not open. But Nightmare Hall was big enough to hold a lot of people, and many Lester residents had been invited. They were all trying to get ready at the same time.
Nan almost got stuck in the doorway of room 428 when she arrived to see how Jo and Kelly were doing. She had to move sideways so the huge pink skirt of her gown could be stuffed through the opening. The maneuver tilted her elaborate white wig to one side. “How are you going to dance in that outfit?” Jo asked, laughing, as Nan adjusted her wig. “You look like a wedding cake!” But her laughter hid a pang of envy. Nan looked so beautiful as Marie Antoinette. The white curled wig brought out the turquoise in her eyes and the flawlessness of her skin. Kelly, too, looked stunning as Morticia, in a slinky black dress, her black wig long and sleek, her huge, dark eyes carefully outlined with black pencil.
Nan shrugged bare shoulders. “I’ll manage. You look fantastic,” she added generously, taking in Jo’s shiny black outfit.
“So do you,” Jo said, ashamed of her crack about the wedding cake. “Help me with this helmet, will you?”
Nan helped her stuff the curly mass up underneath Jo’s head covering and gently eased the thin latex down over the tape and bandages.
Then she stood back and aimed a critical eye at Jo. “Perfect!” Nan announced. But the look in Evan’s eyes when he arrived told her all she needed to know about her costume.
Nightmare Hall looked a lot less gloomy than usual with bright light shining from every window. Cars lined the upwardly curving driveway and music and laughter rang out from within.
“They should have a party here every night,” Carl said as they all piled out of his convertible. “Makes this monstrosity look almost welcoming.”
Jo and Evan were the only two who had never been inside Nightmare Hall. She was eager to see what it was like. “I love old houses,” she confided to Evan, dressed as Groucho Marx, complete with thick black mustache and fake cigar as he took her hand and led her up the wide stone steps.
“You do?” He seemed surprised. “Not me. I grew up in one. No matter how much money my parents poured into it, it never looked new or perfect.”
Jo laughed. “They’re not supposed to look new, Evan. That’s part of their charm. And I can’t wait to see this one. I’ll bet it has all kinds of secret nooks and crannies.”
Cath Devon, dressed as Glinda the Good Witch from The Wizard of Oz, complete with star-studded wand, met them at the door. “Jo? Is that you?” She let them all into a huge foyer crowded with people. Most were costumed. Only a handful of people in regular clothes sat on the wide, curving stairs. “You look wonderful!”
Before Evan would let her check out the house, he insisted they dance. The huge library on the first floor had been cleared of furniture, and the music coming from there was slow and mellow. “Okay, one dance,” Jo agreed. “Then I want to explore, okay?”
The big, book-lined room was romantically lit with candlelight, Jo’s favorite song was playing, and although the room was full of other dancers, it wasn’t overcrowded. Not like at Missy’s.
Jo relaxed and let the music melt her bones.
I am, she thought firmly as she nestled her head against Evan’s shoulder, going to have a wonderful time tonight. If anyone tries to spoil it for me, I’ll give them thirty lashes with my jump rope.
“You look fantastic in that getup,” Evan said. “Where’d you get the whip?”
“At Oscar’s. Across the street from the costume shop.” She lifted her head to look up at him. “I thought I saw you going in there, too. The day we found the costumes?”
He shook his head. “Not me. I was going next door, but they didn’t have what I wanted, so I just hiked on over to the costume shop.”
She would have asked him what was next door to Oscar’s, but just then, she spotted another sleek black outfit leaving the room. “Oh, no,” she cried in dismay. “Another Catwoman?”
The music stopped and Kelly, who was standing with Reed behind Jo and Evan said, “Relax, Jo. That’s Tina Downs. But she’s not Catwoman, she’s a cat burglar. You know, black stirrup pants, black turtleneck sweater and gloves, black boots and a black ski mask. Her face is peeling and
she wanted to hide it. But she must be so hot and uncomfortable in that outfit. Can you imagine wearing wool over a face that’s peeling from sunburn? Gross!”
“Well, I know how she feels,” Jo said. “My mask is tugging at my tape. I’m tempted to find a bathroom and take the bandages off, just for tonight.”
“Oh, don’t do that,” Kelly cried impulsively.
“Not a good idea,” Reed agreed.
Even Evan said, “Didn’t the doctor say you should keep your cuts covered?”
Jo stared at them. “I wasn’t,” she said coolly, “going to run around the party with my scarred face hanging out. I planned to keep the mask on.”
“We didn’t mean that,” Evan said, aware that Jo was hurt. “We just—”
“Yeah, you just,” Jo said heatedly. And she turned and hurried out of the room.
Evan called after her, but she kept going. Were they so terrified of seeing what her face looked like without tape or bandages hiding the cuts?
Well, aren’t you? she asked herself. Aren’t you scared to death to see what you’re going to look like when your skin sees the light of day again? You haven’t even peeked under the tape, not once. Why is that, Johanna?
That’s different, she thought as she began climbing the wide, curving stairs. It’s my face. I’m allowed to be worried about it. But my friends should like me for myself and not be so afraid of what I’m going to look like. It shouldn’t make any difference to them.
Jo kept going until she reached the top of the house. Maybe by the time she went back down to the first floor, she’d be over her irritation with her friends.
The attic smelled wonderful…a combination of cedar and mothballs and old clothes. Although it seemed like a great place to hide, Jo was already beginning to regret her anger. The memory of her dance with Evan tugged at her. If she went back downstairs, she might get another dance or two before the night was over.
Why ruin a perfectly good party by being stubborn?
Giving the cozy room under the eaves a last fond look, Jo went back downstairs.
