by Diane Hoh
When Erica hung up, she sagged against the wall and said with enormous relief, “That was the hospital. Cath’s going to be okay. No permanent damage to the spine.”
“Oh, that’s great!” Maxie felt sorry for Erica. She had ridden to the hospital in the ambulance with Cath last night, but because she wasn’t a relative, hadn’t been allowed to see the patient, and had finally left without knowing Cath’s condition. The strain had left her oval face very pale. She probably hadn’t slept much.
“Her arm is broken, though,” Erica continued, “and she has a concussion. She’ll be in the hospital for a few days. Mildred already called her parents.”
“Mildred told me the only time something like this happened before was when your mom was hurt in a hazing incident,” Tinker said. “They did it differently, then … nothing as tame as a wall-walk. She said something about the railroad bridge behind campus?”
Erica nodded. “Yeah, she had to walk it. She fell into the river. She was in a full body cast for eight weeks and didn’t graduate with her class. Had to finish up in summer school Her accident was responsible for some new rules about hazing.”
“I’m sure the university will launch an investigation into Cath’s accident,” Tinker said, just as grimly.
“Maybe that’s what someone wanted,” Maxie commented, and filled Erica and Tinker in on what she’d found at the wall. “Anyone who knew about the wall-walking and tampered with those bricks had to know that if Cath got hurt, the administration would hear about it and we’d be in hot water. And Cath did get hurt.”
“Why would someone do that?” Erica asked a puzzled frown on her face.
Glancing at Tinker, Maxie said, “Tinker thinks it could have been someone we rejected. Brendan does, too. Did you ever check that list or talk to any of the girls we rushed but didn’t pledge?”
Erica shook her head. “I haven’t had time.” She flushed guiltily. “Maybe if I had, Cath wouldn’t be in the hospital now.”
“It’s not your fault. Those bricks could have been tampered with before we even thought of the list, so quit blaming yourself. Anyway, Mildred’s calling the police. They’ll find out what really happened.”
Erica’s face blanched at the word “police.”
Mildred came up to tell them the police would be going to the hospital first, to see if Cath was able to tell them anything, and would then come out to Omega house to check the wall. “It won’t be until after classes, so go ahead and do what you usually do.”
The first person Maxie ran into on campus was Brendan. She could tell by the set of his mouth that he’d already heard about Cath.
“Must have been pretty bad,” he said as they met on the steps of the administration building, Butler Hall, “if they took her to the hospital instead of the infirmary.”
“We thought it was worse than it really was,” Maxie said defensively. A sharp, chilling March wind had arisen, and Maxie shivered in her red ski jacket. “She landed on her back, and we thought maybe …but she just has a concussion and a broken arm.”
Brendan’s dark eyebrows tilted. “Just?”
Maxie flushed. “I didn’t mean ‘just.’ I meant, that’s a lot better than a spinal cord injury, right?”
He sat down on the top step, off to one side, and yanked at her wrist to get her to join him.
She sat reluctantly. She didn’t want to have this conversation. But if they didn’t talk about it, it would get in their way. What had happened to Cath would stand between them like a brick wall. Brick wall …Maxie saw Cath falling again, her arms flailing out around her, and felt sick.
“I hear you’re in trouble with the administration,” Brendan said.
Maxie nodded. “We all have to see the Dean and explain what happened. I’m on my way there now.”
“What did happen?”
She told him.
Brendan’s head swiveled in shock as Maxie explained about the loose bricks.
“On purpose?” he shouted. “You’re saying someone did this on purpose?”
She shrugged. “Looks that way. Mildred talked to the police, and we have to talk to them this afternoon.”
“So,” he said, looking directly at her, “when are you packing?”
Hadn’t she known this was coming? “I’m not, Brendan. I’m not a rat who deserts a sinking ship.”
“Oh, it’s sinking, all right.” Brendan’s strongly angled face reddened with anger. “And you’ve decided to go down with it? You’re not its captain, Maxie. Let Erica go down with the ship, but you get out of there!”
She tried to tell herself it was because he cared about her. She tried to tell herself that if he didn’t care about her, it wouldn’t make any difference to him whether she left the house or not.
But it didn’t help. She needed his support now, his help, not his direct order that she leave the house and her sisters when they were in trouble. Angry, she retorted, “Would you want me to desert you if you were in trouble? I’m not leaving the house, Brendan. And if all you can do is tell me that that’s the answer, I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Jumping up, she turned and ran into the building.
The Dean listened to her story, said she would talk to Mildred about increased security at Omega house, and then delivered a mild lecture on the university’s rules against any kind of hazing. Then Maxie was excused.
She was halfway to her ten o’clock class when a tall, heavyset girl with frizzy dark hair approached her. Isabella Sands, one of the girls Omega Phi had rejected.
The little hairs on the back of Maxie’s neck stood on end. Not now, she thought, and then quickly thought better of it. Erica hadn’t had time to talk to Isabella or Holly. No time like the present, she decided.
Isabella matched her steps to Maxie’s. “I heard about Cath,” she said with a mournful tone to her voice that Maxie immediately tagged as phony. “But I guess she’s going to be okay, hmm?”
Maxie nodded.
“But,” eagerness crept into Isabella’s voice, “she won’t be finishing out the year at Omega house, right? I mean, she’ll probably be in the hospital for a while, and then maybe she’ll have to go home to recuperate, don’t you think?”
Maxie was tired, her argument with Brendan and her nerve-wracking interview in the Dean’s office had tied her nerves in knots, and the gray, chilly day was no comfort. She stopped walking, turned to Isabella and said, “Isabella. You weren’t rejected by Omega Phi because there wasn’t any room for you. You were rejected because you are the sort of person who follows people around campus trying to take advantage of the fact that a very nice girl has been hurt in an accident. Omega Phis aren’t like that. And we don’t want anyone who is.” Having said that, Maxie turned and walked away, leaving Isabella standing in the center of the commons, her jaw descending toward her neck.
I probably shouldn’t have done that, Maxie told herself as she hurried to class. I didn’t learn a single thing about Isabella except that she’s a creep, and if she was already mad at us, I probably just made her even madder. Then a tiny smile slid across her face. But it felt so good!
Later in the morning, Maxie was approached by Holly Dukes, also with an eye toward taking Cath’s place at Omega house. But this time, she dispatched the Omega wannabe even more swiftly than she had Isabella.
Vultures! she thought angrily, stomping away from Holly. We were right to vote against both of them.
But just how far would either of the girls go to get into the house, Maxie wondered. Head down against the wind, she made her way to the student center to meet Candie for lunch. Was there violence in Isabella or Holly? Isabella’s dark eyes had a flat, cruel look to them. Holly might seem shy, but hadn’t she, too, tracked Maxie down on campus to see about her chances of taking Cath’s place? Her determination seemed to be overcoming her shyness. How determined was she? And what could that determination drive her to do?
A few feet away from the entrance to the student center, Maxie saw Candie standing under a h
uge old tree, the wind blowing her reddish-brown hair around her face. But she wasn’t alone. She was with someone, and she was arguing.
Peering more closely at the pair from a distance, Maxie recognized the tall, broad-shouldered guy Candie was arguing with. Graham Lucas, the very person who had been pestering Candie with notes and flowers and phone calls.
Why was Candie even talking to him? A feeling of dread swept over Maxie. They had all agreed, when Candie told them what was going on, that the best tactic was to ignore Graham, thinking that eventually he’d give up and go away.
Except, he hadn’t. Candie had told Graham about Dylan, but he didn’t seem to care that she already had a boyfriend. Candie said he was still phoning repeatedly and sending her little notes.
What Maxie didn’t understand was why Graham hadn’t given up. Candie was beautiful ‘ and fun and smart, but so were other girls on campus. His refusal to take the hint — even the insults — of Candie, and keep hanging on, wasn’t … normal.
Maxie hurried over to them. “C’mon, Candie,” she urged, barely glancing at Graham, “let’s go!”
As they hurried away, Maxie glanced over her shoulder. Graham was staring after them, his eyes narrowed, his face scarlet with rage.
“Whoa!” she said to Candie, “stay away from that guy, okay? He looks like he’s about to pop a few blood vessels. Why were you even talking to him?”
“I was just about to go into the center when I heard someone calling me. When I saw that it was him, I was going to keep going, but he yelled that he had some news about Cath, so I walked over to see what it was. And of course he didn’t know a thing about Cath. He just wanted to know why I hadn’t been taking his phone calls.” Candie laughed softly. “I told him it was because talking to him on the phone was worse than going to the dentist.”
“Candie! You shouldn’t antagonize him. He looked so furious back there.”
Candie shrugged and pulled open the door to the student center. “You have to be rude to guys like that. It’s the only thing they understand. If you’re nice, they’re harder to get rid of than fungus.”
Maybe, Maxie thought as they joined Jenna, waiting at a table by the window in the small, cozy cafe. But Candie had been rude to Graham. More than once. So why hadn’t he disappeared?
Late that afternoon, when only a naive new sister named Chloe Bannister was in the house, the doorbell rang.
Chloe opened the front door to see a young man in a white uniform, armed with a red canister, standing on the front porch.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
Thick red hair showed under his white cap as he adjusted his sunglasses. “Yes, ma’am. Actually, I’m here to help you. I’m with ZAPCO Exterminators. You were expecting me, right?”
“Oh, yes.” Chloe opened the door wider, then remembered the procedure they’d been warned to follow. “Could I see your identification, please?” she asked politely.
“Sure. No problem.” The young man reached into a back pocket and pulled out a vinyl card case, flipped it open and held it out.
Chloe read it carefully. Nodded. “I guess it’s okay. If you need anything, I’ll be in the living room.”
“Thank you,” the exterminator said and, whistling a cheerful tune, began marching through the house.
Chapter 11
WHEN MAXIE GOT HOME, Erica was in her room, studying. She had already called the hospital to see how Cath was doing. “She’s awake and feeling better, but she’ll probably be there another four or five days.”
Her tone of voice was so despondent, Maxie felt compelled to say, “It wasn’t your fault, Erica. Someone tampered with the bricks. Have the police been here yet?”
“No. They’re coming after dinner. We’re all supposed to be here. They’ll want to talk to everyone.” Erica sighed heavily. “Not that we have any answers.” Then, “Did you see the new peephole?”
“What new peephole?”
“On the front door. Tuttle put it in, so we can see who’s out on the porch before we open the door. And he put a new chain lock on the door, too. But,” Erica’s mouth turned downward, “that’s all the university would spring for right now. According to Mildred, the Dean said there wasn’t any real evidence of a pressing need for more security.” Her grimace deepened. “I guess he means, there aren’t any dead bodies lying around the house.”
Not yet, Maxie thought involuntarily, and quickly banished the thought from her mind. “Maybe the Dean will change her mind after the police tell her the wall around the fountain was deliberately tampered with.”
“Don’t hold your breath. She might just point out that the wall is outside, so what good would installing a security system inside the house do?”
Tired of the whole subject, Maxie asked, “Brendan hasn’t called, has he?”
“No. Was he supposed to?”
“I guess not,” Maxie answered vaguely, and thought, Liar! He was definitely supposed to call. To deliver an apology for not being more supportive. If you couldn’t turn to your boyfriend when things were going wrong, who could you turn to?
Dinner was a gloomy affair. There seemed to Maxie to be two groups of people at the table: those who ate for comfort because they were uneasy about the upcoming visit by the police, and those who couldn’t eat at all, for exactly the same reason. Maxie was in the latter group. She barely touched her food.
As she and Tinker began carrying plates to the kitchen, Tinker muttered, “I wish they’d hurry up and get here. The sooner we get this over with, the faster things will return to normal in this house. We’re all walking around like this place is full of land mines.”
“Because that’s the way it feels,” Maxie agreed.
“Well, I think it’s getting to me,” Tinker said, dropping her stack of plates on the kitchen counter. “I don’t feel so hot.” Her hands went to her stomach. “Can you finish here? I — ” she turned suddenly and ran from the room. Maxie heard her feet pounding up the stairs.
Tinker, sick? Tinker was never sick.
Before Maxie could go after Tinker to check on her, the doorbell rang. Maxie hurried out to answer it. Using the peephole felt strange, as if she were studying someone under a microscope. Two uniformed police officers, a man and a woman, were waiting on the front porch. The woman held up a gold badge. As far as Maxie could tell, it was an authentic police badge, so she let them in.
She closed the door when they were inside, turned around, and came face-to-face with Erica, who had come to greet the two officers.
But the sorority’s president couldn’t even manage a “hello.” She was clearly ill. She looked terrible. Her face was contorted in pain and had a greenish pallor to it. A fine sheen of sweat covered her skin, and her hands were placed protectively over her stomach.
“Erica?” Maxie said, moving toward her, “what’s wrong?” But before she reached the spot where Erica stood with her face twisted in agony, Erica’s knees buckled, and she crumpled to the floor, writhing in pain.
As the officers moved to Erica’s side, Tinker and Candie came into the foyer, both walking unsteadily, their faces the same color as Erica’s. Tinker held one hand to her mouth, the other pressed against her stomach. Candie leaned heavily on the railing as they struggled up the stairs. The sound of a door closing on the second floor was followed by painful retching sounds.
The kitchen door opened as Mildred emerged to clear the rest of the dishes from the dining room. When she saw Erica lying on her back, her knees drawn up against what was obviously severe pain, she rushed to kneel beside the fallen girl. “What’s happening?” she cried. “Maxie, what is wrong with Erica?”
Before Maxie could answer honestly that she didn’t know, two more girls came staggering out of the kitchen, groaning.
Mildred took one look at them and said urgently to the police officers, “You’d better get an ambulance over here. Something is terribly wrong.”
One of the officers went outside to make the call. The other stayed behind
, taking Erica’s pulse, asking Maxie to go get a glass of water.
When she returned, Mildred lifted her head to ask, “Maxie, what is this? What’s happened? Erica looks like she’s …like she’s dying!”
“So do the others,” Maxie agreed. “Tinker and Candie, and Morgan and Sarah.” A trio of girls made their way out of the kitchen and into the living room, where they flopped on a pair of leather couches. “And Sheila and Dennie and Nita don’t look so hot, either.”
“But … but you’re not sick, Maxie?” Mildred asked with concern.
Erica groaned. She seemed to be having trouble breathing, and she drew her knees up even closer to her stomach.
“No. I’m not. But … ” Maxie was too confused to think straight, but one solid thought slipped into her mind … “but I didn’t eat anything at dinner. Everyone who’s sick did. I remember Nita and Dennie especially saying how good it tasted, and Erica and Candie taking second helpings.”
“Dinner?” Mildred paled. “The spaghetti?”
Maxie nodded.
“Well, it couldn’t have been that,” Mildred said. “I made it myself. The meat was fresh, and so was the sauce. There couldn’t have been anything wrong with it.”
“Any of it left?” the policeman asked.
“Yes. I put the leftovers in the frig.” Mildred led him out into the kitchen. Maxie followed them to wet a cloth for Erica’s forehead.
The officer took the plastic-covered bowl off its shelf. He lifted the plastic wrap and sniffed.
“Any objection if I take this with me, ma’am?” the officer asked, holding up the bowl.
“Oh, heavens,” Mildred murmured, “if there’s anything wrong with something I cooked, if that’s what made my girls sick, I … ”
“It probably isn’t, Mrs. B.,” Maxie said hastily. “But he should check it anyway, right? Just to prove that it wasn’t the spaghetti. It’s probably just a flu bug or something, really.” But as she went upstairs to check on Tinker and Candie, she knew she hadn’t meant a word of it. She didn’t really believe it was a bug. What kind of “bug” would hit so many people at exactly the same moment, or do so much damage?
