Shades of Red

by K. C. Dyer

“Maybe they were reformatting their group somehow?” said Kate, scrutinizing the page in her hand.

  “Uh — I don’t think Reformation has anything to do with reformatting, Kate,” laughed Brodie. “No computers before the twentieth century, you know.”

  “He said something about covering the Reformation later in the year,” said Kate. “But he did give us that list, remember?”

  The trio had pulled three overstuffed chairs together in the study hall and were reading over Professor Grampian’s assignment by the light of the fire. The sun had long set, and only a few other chairs were occupied in the darkened room. Most first- and second-year students had elected to finish their assignments in the better-lit environs of the school library or dining hall.

  Delaney was curled up beside Darrell’s chair, snoozing with his head on the rust-coloured wool toque he had been carrying around all evening. Kate had closed her laptop, and Brodie fiddled with a new rock hammer that glinted in the firelight.

  Darrell pulled out her notebook. “Yeah, here it is. ‘The Ninety-Five Theses of Martin Luther.’ I thought Martin Luther was a guy who fought for equal rights for African Americans.”

  Kate snorted. “That was Martin Luther King Junior. According to Gramps, this Martin Luther was actually a priest who got fed up with the way rich people in the Catholic Church could pay to get into heaven, so he made up a list of complaints and nailed them to a church door.”

  Darrell shrugged. “Pay to get into heaven? I guess I did miss some interesting stuff when I dozed off.”

  “That’s okay,” said Kate. “I got most of it down on my laptop. I’ll run you off a copy of my notes.”

  Darrell nodded her thanks absently and pulled a broken piece of charcoal drawing pencil out of her pocket. “I was thinking about this class assignment,” she said, twisting the pencil in her fingers. “When is a field trip not a field trip?”

  “When it involves Eagle Glen Alternative School,” answered Brodie with a grin. He pointed his tap hammer at Kate. “And I’m dying to find out just what Gramps has in mind. Every kid in the class has to partner up and put in a proposal. We have to raise the funds and plan the whole process. That much we all know. But where are we allowed to go?”

  Darrell’s voice was low. “I’m more interested in when,” she said quietly.

  “We’re supposed to set it up to happen sometime around spring break,” said Kate, reading the assignment sheet. “It says here that field trips can be taken in or out of school time, dependant on scheduling.”

  Brodie glanced at Darrell’s face. “I don’t think that’s what she meant,” he said.

  Kate’s head snapped up, and she instinctively peered around the back of her chair. “You can’t be thinking about a field trip through time,” she hissed incredulously. “Are you crazy?”

  A burst of laughter came from Andrea and Lily, the last two students in the room. Kate turned on them furiously. “Will you keep it down? We’re trying to get some work done here.”

  “Whatever you say, Kate Clancy,” said Andrea mockingly.

  “We’ve got swim practice, anyway.” Lily scooped up her books. “See you later, Darrell,” she said pointedly, and the two girls walked out the door. The sound of their laughter carried back from down the hall. Delaney rolled off the floor from his spot beneath Darrell’s chair and, hat in his mouth, gently padded out the door behind them.

  “Now she’s mad at you,” observed Darrell.

  “I don’t care,” said Kate recklessly. “I wanted them out of here so I can find out what’s going on in your head. Please tell me you don’t want to take another trip through time.”

  Darrell leaned forward, still keeping her voice low in spite of the closed door. “I don’t know what’s going on in my head,” she said. “I can’t seem to sort it all out.” She rubbed her right knee absently. “Maybe I’m crazy — but I can’t forget about what I did to Conrad.”

  Kate ran her fingers through her hair in agitation. “What you did? Darrell, you didn’t do anything to Conrad.” She searched her friend’s face.

  “I left him behind.” Darrell’s voice was bitter. “I dragged him back through time with me and then he either burned to death in that fire or I left him stranded five hundred years in the past.” She stood up abruptly and pushed aside the curtain that covered the heavy glass panes of the nearest window. “I killed Conrad Kennedy.”

  The night outside was dark and low clouds obscured the stars, but she could just make out the top of the new light standard, erected on farthest point of the beach south of the school. The light was shaded to the landward side, but the rhythmic flicker was reflected on the waves, cautioning night travellers to stay far from the rocky shore.

  Brodie pushed his chair back and walked to the window, his hand lightly on her shoulder. “Darrell, Conrad made his own choices, you know that. He was running away from school. He was selling us all out — and besides, you didn’t drag him with you. It was an accident that he was there in the first place.”

  Reluctantly, Darrell turned her eyes away from the spot where the old lighthouse had stood for so many years. The lethargy that had weighed on her throughout the holidays seemed to drag at her again, and she slumped back in the chair beside Kate. “You can say what you like, but I’ve been thinking about this for a while now. Somehow, Delaney and I are like keys in these doorways through time. Without us, nobody goes. You know it’s true, Brodie; you tested it yourself. Conrad wouldn’t have been there — couldn’t have been — if I hadn’t pulled him through time.” She lifted her head with an effort and looked into his eyes. “And maybe I need to go find out what happened.”

  Kate grabbed Darrell by the sleeves and shook her. “Are you crazy?” she cried again. “We’re not going into the past for our field trip! I want to go that museum in Vancouver, not back to the Renaissance to find Conrad.”

  In the firelight, Darrell could see Kate’s face had gone the same shade as her hair.

  “Besides,” Kate blurted, “he might not even —”

  “Still be alive?” finished Darrell. She laughed bitterly. “Well, I can guarantee you that he’s not alive today.” She pulled her legs up to her chest and rubbed her sore knee again. “I just have to figure out the location of another portal ...”

  “I can’t believe this!” Kate looked beseechingly at Brodie. “Could you please talk some sense into this girl?”

  Brodie opened his mouth to speak, but Kate jumped to her feet and started counting problems off on her fingers.

  “One: you don’t have a route into the past now that the glyphs in the cave are gone and the lighthouse has burned. Two: Conrad has been gone since before the winter break. That’s more than a month ago. Whenever we’ve gone back in time, it’s been compressed somehow, Darrell, you know that. Who knows where he is now? He could be anywhere. And three, even if we could find him, he’d most likely be dead. Professor Tooth is the only one who has any idea about what we’ve been up to and we’re not even sure what she knows and what she doesn’t. Besides, she’s in Europe, and no one seems to want to tell us when she’ll be back.”

  “Professor Tooth is a big part of my problem,” said Darrell bitterly. “I need to talk to her and she’s nowhere to be found.”

  “Darrell, you spent all last term trying to find a way to change the past,” Brodie interjected. “Even with Leonardo’s help, you weren’t able to change things. You couldn’t control the era you travelled to — the portals somehow just deposited you into a place in history. You couldn’t go back and stop the accident that took your dad away. What makes you think you can do it now?”

  “I just ...”

  The door creaked a little, and they all jumped. A low shadow crept into the room.

  “Delaney!” said Darrell. “Where have you been, boy?”

  “He went out behind Lily,” said Kate, stretching out her legs under the table. “He must’ve been just sniffing around outside.”

  The dog, the mass of wool still in
his mouth, flopped back into his spot under Darrell’s chair. She ran a hand down his soft golden back. “Still have that old thing? Where’d it come from, anyway?”

  Brodie leaned forward in his chair and peered through the doorway. “Someone’s coming. I think it’s Paris.”

  “There you are you rotten thief.” Paris closed the study hall door behind him. “Hand it over — I know you’ve got it.” He bent down and plucked the object out from under Delaney’s head.

  Darrell looked apologetic. “Sorry, Paris. Did he steal something of yours?”

  Paris waved the wad of rust-coloured wool and grinned. “This used to be my winter hat,” he said. “I must’ve dropped it somewhere today, and I stopped to ask Lily and Andrea if they’d seen it. Lily said that she’d seen Delaney carrying something around in here, so I thought I’d check it out.”

  He held out what once may have been a rusty-red woollen toque. It now resembled a well-chewed dishrag.

  Paris laughed and pulled the toque on. Large chunks of his freshly violet hair stuck out artistically through a number of holes. “This is the second time he’s taken it this week. What can I say? The dog’s got good taste in hats.”

  “Oh, Paris, I’m really sorry,” said Darrell, rustling in her backpack for her wallet. “He doesn’t usually steal things like that. I’ll pay for a new one, okay?”

  “Forget it — I like it this way.” Paris posed like a runway model and everyone laughed. “Besides, it’ll give Lily and Andrea something new to talk about.”

  Kate raised her eyebrows. “Like they don’t have enough to say already.”

  Paris nodded his agreement, and the exposed tufts of his hair bobbed gently through the holes in the hat. “That Lily sure can talk.”

  “You should hear her snore — puts her talking to shame,” said Kate with a shrug.

  Paris raised an eyebrow. “Try slipping on that little swimming nose-plug of hers while she sleeps,” he suggested. “That might help a bit.”

  Kate’s face lit up at the thought. “Not a bad idea,” she muttered.

  “So,” he said, plopping down on a chair and putting his feet on the desk. “Anybody want a mint?” He popped a LifeSaver in his mouth. Everyone else at the table shook their heads.

  “I have some of my own,” said Darrell, patting her pocket. “Thanks anyway.”

  Paris looked around the group.

  “An awkward silence,” he said with a grin. “So what are we talking about, anyway?”

  “Nothing. We’re just leaving,” said Kate hurriedly.

  “Hmm,” said Paris. “I could have sworn that a conversation of some sort had been taking place. But since you obviously haven’t got anything better to do, I have something interesting to show you.”

  “Sorry, Paris, but I have some work to finish,” said Brodie, shouldering his pack.

  “You’re the reason I came up here, Sun,” said Paris. “This little discovery has some archaeological elements to it that I thought you might find interesting.”

  Brodie grinned and let his pack slide to the floor. “Okay, you’ve got me. What is it?”

  Kate snapped her computer case closed. “Not me,” she said shortly. “I need to talk my roommate here out of making a bad decision.”

  “That sounds interesting,” said Paris, crossing one ankle over the other. “But does it compare to,” he dropped his voice to a stage whisper, “a secret passage?”

  Darrell sat up. “A what?”

  “You heard me,” said Paris, enjoying the result of his bombshell. He pulled his feet off the table and jumped up. “Interested?”

  “Yes!” chorused Brodie and Darrell, nearly drowning out Kate’s quiet “No.”

  “No?” said Paris, incredulously.

  Kate refused to meet his eye. “Let’s just say I’m a little anxious in enclosed spaces,” she muttered.

  He shrugged. “Fine by me. Are you two in?”

  Darrell felt a sudden excitement course through her veins. “I’m in,” she said quietly, and the hair on her arms tingled as though the room had suddenly filled with static.

  “Me too,” said Brodie.

  Kate looked despairingly at Brodie. “Haven’t you learned anything? I’ve tromped though enough caves and lighthouses with you to know that it’s a little risky, especially with certain people for company.”

  Brodie shrugged. “We’ll just go for a quick peek, Kate.”

  Paris looked baffled. “What are you talking about?” he asked Kate.

  Darrell scowled at Kate. “Never mind,” she said to Paris. “I’d really like to have a look. Kate can stay here with Delaney and then she won’t have anything to worry about.”

  Paris looked from one face to another in increasing puzzlement, then shrugged.

  “Well, whoever wants to come is fine with me, but I want to go now before the hall supervisor clues in to what we’re doing.”

  “Who is on supervision this week?” asked Brodie.

  Kate flipped open her binder. “Gramps,” she said succinctly.

  “Oh well — no worries there,” said Paris. “Gramps spends most of his supervision time snoozing in the staff room.” He jumped to his feet, pulled the toque off his head, and stuffed it in his back pocket. “Are you with me?” He pointed at Brodie and strode out the door.

  “Be right back, Katie.” Brodie grinned and hurried after Paris.

  Darrell ruffled her dog’s furry head. “Stay with Kate, Delaney,” she said. “And no more stealing people’s stuff.” She glanced up at Kate. “I’ll be right back,” she added quietly. “I’m just going for a look.”

  Kate nodded with her hand on Delaney’s collar. “Just hand me his leash, will you? I’ll wait for you here.” Her face was tight with anxiety. “Be careful anyway, okay, Darrell?”

  Darrell pulled the leash out of her pack and tossed it to Kate. She dashed out the door in time to see Brodie heading down the stairs. She followed Paris and Brodie down to a door on the floor below the study hall.

  “The library?” she puffed, catching up as Brodie flipped on the light switch.

  Paris nodded. “I was in the music section at the back, and — well, I’ll show you.”

  They were walking to the back of the library when the door burst open.

  “All right! It is open!”

  Darrell quailed inwardly. Not again! She turned to see Lily, still wrapped in her towel, though considerably soggier than before.

  “I thought this place was closed for the night,” she announced cheerfully. “But then I saw you guys all come in. This is great. I can sign out the books for my project now.”

  “The library is closed, Lily,” said Darrell. “We just came in to look at a ...”

  “... a poster,” finished Paris smoothly. “For a music festival that’s coming up.”

  “Oh,” said Lily, looking damply disappointed. “So Ms. Rawiya isn’t here?”

  “Nope.”

  “All right. Guess I’ll sign my books out tomorrow, then.”

  Darrell sighed with relief. “You do that, Lily. See you upstairs?”

  “Okay.” Lily started to leave and then hesitated. “Which music festival?”

  “Uh — what?” Paris gulped.

  “Which music festival? Maybe I’d like to go. Andrea likes folk — is it a folk festival?”

  “No, not folk,” said Paris quickly. “Uh — jazz.”

  Lily shook her head, sending droplets flying. “Ugh. Not a chance. See you later, Darrell.” She wrapped her towel around her shoulders and bolted out the door.

  “That was a close one,” breathed Brodie.

  Paris shrugged. “What’s wrong with Lily knowing? She might think it’s cool to see the secret passageway.”

  Darrell exchanged a glance with Brodie. “We’ve just found that a fast way to make sure everyone in the school knows something is to tell Lily a secret.”

  Brodie nodded. “And,” he said quickly, “we don’t really know anything about this hidden passage,
right? How soon do you want the teachers to find out about it?”

  “Not.” Paris grinned. “I haven’t exactly explored the place yet,” he added. “When you see it, you’ll understand. The main passageway drops down — it could go all around underneath the school, for all I know.” He nudged Brodie. “Maybe we can even find a way to get out of Gramps’s class.”

  “So what do you say we just keep it to ourselves for now?” asked Darrell, with another glance at Brodie.

  Paris nodded. “Okay. It’s just back here,” he said, stepping though the stacks. “I was reading this book about Jimi Hendrix and I leaned right on this spot ...” He pushed against one side of the bookcase at the end of the row and the edge of the case suddenly popped forward. He turned around and grinned his triumph.

  Brodie was beside him in an instant. He pulled the edge of the bookcase and it swung out like a door. “Simple catch and spring mechanism,” he muttered, bending over for a closer look. “Seems a little rusty, though. I’ll bet this thing is pretty old.”

  Darrell reached around the door and pulled one of the books out of the case. “Must be a strong hinge,” she whispered. “Because these are all real books. This bookcase is heavy.”

  “Whoever built this didn’t want it to just swing open by mistake,” said Brodie, examining the clasp. “They’ve taken a lot of trouble to make sure it was carefully hidden.” He looked closely at Paris. “Pretty amazing that you found it by accident.”

  Paris nodded. “I know. And all because of your dog, Darrell. Let’s check it out.” He pulled out a small flashlight from his pocket, flicked it on, and stepped through the opening.

  Darrell grabbed Paris by the arm. “What do you mean, because of my dog?”

  He stuck his head back through the opening. “I told you he stole my hat already this week, right? Well, I chased him in here and found him lying right at the back with his head on it. I grabbed my hat and saw this book about Hendrix and — well, the rest you know.”

  Her mind whirling with hats and dogs, Darrell let go of his arm. Paris slipped back into the dark doorway behind the bookcase.

  “I’m right behind you.” Brodie grabbed his own flashlight from his pack and followed Paris through the doorway.