Scary Mary

by S. A. Hunter

  She realized then why responsibility was such a heavy burden. It was because responsibility was stuff that she didn’t want to do but had to. So did that mean going to see Mr. Landa was a responsible thing? Mary frowned at the thought as she dragged her feet into school.

  Mr. Landa looked up from his desk when Mary tapped on his door and stuck her head in. He waved his hand for her to come in, but Mary stayed at the door. She was staring at his desk. It was a new desk.

  "Where’s your desk?"

  "I sent it to surplus, though it should probably be trashed. The thing was a safety hazard."

  "Yeah, I really liked it."

  Mr. Landa’s eyebrows quirked at her statement.

  She slipped into the office and sat down. She didn’t know what to do. Mrs. Brown was gone. Who was she going to talk to?

  “How’s your first full week back at school going?”

  “Not that great,” she replied.

  He nodded sympathetically. “Some students are giving you trouble?”

  “Yeah.” She slumped in her seat. She folded her hands and looked down at them. What would Mrs. Brown say right now? Don’t let them get to you. You’re better than them. Which were nice things to say, but they weren’t going to help her with her problem, and she needed help. She was going to have to try something unprecedented. She was going to actually talk to Mr. Landa. They were going to have an actual conversation.

  “How are they bothering you?”

  “They’re saying stuff about me. You know the usual that I’m a freak.”

  “And what do you want to say to them?”

  “Shut up.”

  Mr. Landa blinked at her. With a jolt, she realized how that had sounded. “That’s what I’d like to say to them,” she clarified sheepishly.

  Mr. Landa’s eyes softened as he caught on. “You know that their words don’t mean anything, right?”

  She shrugged. “I still don’t like being called a freak.”

  He nodded. “No one likes being called names, but the secret to stopping the sting is to realize that the people calling you names are beneath you. What they say doesn’t matter.”

  “Yeah, I get that, but people I like are starting to call me a freak too.”

  Mr. Landa actually looked upset on her behalf. “If that’s true, then you need to reevaluate why you like them and if you should continue.”

  She chewed on this. Why did she still like Cy? She still thought he was a good person. He’d been nice to her for a while, and even though he didn’t like her anymore, he hadn’t been mean to her. He hadn’t tried to hurt her. She couldn’t blame him for freaking about the séance and the paranormal explanation. It hurt that he wouldn’t give her a second chance or the benefit of the doubt. Should she just stop liking him? Could she do that? No, she didn’t think that she could just turn off her feelings like that. She didn’t want to turn off her feelings like that, and there was still the matter of Ricky.

  She sighed. “It’s more complicated than that. I’m worried about this person. I think he’s in trouble, but he won’t listen to me about it. I don’t know how to reach him.”

  Mr. Landa bent his head as he thought about it. Mary found herself actually waiting for his answer. She’d never really tried talking to him before. This was the first honest conversation they’d ever had. It surprised her how well it was going.

  “Can you tell me what type of trouble this person is in?”

  She shook her head.

  “Is it drugs?”

  She shook her head again.

  “Family?”

  She shook her head again and dropped her head. It looked like Mr. Landa wouldn’t be able to help her.

  “Mary, if this person is in trouble then you should help him if you can: Be there for him, give him support and understanding, and don’t judge him.”

  “But he doesn’t want me around him. He doesn’t think he’s in trouble.”

  He gave her a wry grin. “Sometimes the help you don’t want is the help you need.”

  “Is there irony in that statement?”

  He chuckled. “Maybe a smidge.”

  “So what should I do?”

  “Be available, but don’t smother him. Don’t avoid him, but don’t follow him around. If you see him in trouble, offer him help or get someone to help him. It’s all you can do.”

  Over the next two days, Mary took Mr. Landa’s words to heart. She kept out of Cy’s way, but she didn’t avoid him. Rachel, she observed, did not have the same philosophy. Mary saw her best friend dogging him in the hallways. Cy’s face looked tense each time she saw them. Mary dearly wished to know what Rachel thought she was doing, but when she tried to confront her friend about it, Rachel dashed away saying she couldn’t chat--She had to keep the target in sight. Mary decided not to ask again.

  Mary didn’t talk to Rachel outside of school either. When she’d call, Rachel’s father always said his daughter was ‘out’. She hoped Rachel wasn’t parked out in front of Cy’s house with binoculars, doughnuts, and a large cup of coffee. She didn’t want the police to arrest her friend as a stalker.

  On the third day, she decided to eat in the school library because it was too hot outside. She hadn’t seen Rachel all day, but she thought that it might be because she hadn’t seen Cy either. She wondered how Vicky felt about his new shadow.

  She was quietly reading her history textbook, trying to ignore the fact that she was lonely when a heavy book bag dropped onto her table. She jerked her head up to find Cy scowling down at her.

  “Call Rachel off, I can’t take any more of her harassment.”

  Rachel came up behind him and joined them at the table.

  “Mary didn’t tell me to follow you around. This was my idea.”

  “Really? You have your own ideas?” he said.

  “Hey!” Mary and Rachel both protested. The school librarian gave them a stern look in response to their outburst. She might let the students eat in the library, but she would not allow loud noise.

  “My house is not haunted,” Cy said through clenched teeth.

  “Oh yeah? Mary, tell him what happened to Terri. She lived in the house before you.”

  “No, Rach. If he doesn’t want to know, it’d be wrong to tell him,” she said, remembering Mr. Landa’s advice. She wouldn’t force her help on Cy.

  He looked at Rachel triumphantly. Rachel’s eyes narrowed in return. “Mary may feel that way, but I don’t.”

  “Rach…” Mary said uneasily.

  He threw his hands into the air. “Fine. What’s happened at my house before?”

  She looked down at her hands trying to think of how to answer. She knew that he didn’t want to hear what she had to say. She felt a flash of anger at Rachel. She might be right, and it might be good that she stuck to him and made him talk to Mary, but it put her in a bad situation and caused him to resent both of them.

  “Mary, just tell me,” he said. She looked up at him. He’d calmed down some and was waiting for her to answer.

  “A previous owner was burned terribly in a furnace explosion. That’s where I think the ghost is. He killed himself in the basement, along with his wife. He was a sick man. The man died; the sickness stuck around.”

  “And what am I supposed to do about it?” he asked. She could tell that he didn’t give any credit to her news. He was humoring her.

  “Let Mary and me come over and check it out. We can get rid of him for you,” said Rachel. Mary jumped at the surprise offer. She turned to her friend.

  “Rach, that’s not a good idea.”

  “What? Are you scared, Mary?” he asked.

  “It’s hard not to be afraid when you believe in ghosts, and it’s hard not to believe in ghosts when they tell you that they’re there,” she said. Cy rolled his eyes and looked away.

  “We’ll come over tonight,” Rachel said.

  Mary stood and put her hands up to stop this rash plan. “Wait, that’s too soon. We have to plan or something.”
>
  Rachel gave her a look that said not to ruin this. She glared back that this was NOT a good idea.

  “We’ll be there tonight,” Rachel repeated.

  “Whatever. I’ll see you after school,” he said. He shrugged on his book bag and left with his hands shoved in his pockets. Mary could tell by his hunched shoulders that he was not happy about the upcoming evening.

  As soon as he was out of the library, she grabbed Rachel. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Her best friend shrugged. “Putting the ball in motion?”

  “Why, so we can get squashed by it?”

  “What do you need?”

  “A plane ticket to Bermuda would be nice.”

  Rachel grinned. “That could be our fee.”

  She scowled at her. “We are not the Ghostbusters.”

  “I know. We’re way cuter than Dan Ackroyd and Bill Murray.” Mary wanted to shake Rachel and yell at her, but the bell rang.

  Chapter 10

  Denial

  She stood outside Cy’s home experiencing a different sort of nervousness this time: the gut wrenching, heart palpitating, skin crawling type. Actually, it didn’t feel that different from the first date jitters. What did she think she was doing? Ricky had nearly got her last time. Going back into the basement seemed an extremely bad idea, but she was the only one who had a chance of helping Cy. He might not want her help, but he needed it. She was relieved when Rachel arrived. She didn’t want to go in alone, but then reconsidered when she saw that Rachel had brought stakes and garlic.

  “Uh Rach, you’re referencing the wrong horror movies for this.”

  “Be prepared for anything, I say.” Mary shook her head but didn’t argue. If they made her feel safe, then she wouldn’t rag on her about them; maybe they were her occult equivalent of teddy bears. If she held them close, the monster would go away, but then the monster could always view garlic as nice seasoning for human and the stakes as handy toothpicks. Mary put a stop to these thoughts. They were beginning to freak her out.

  “Let’s just get this over with.”

  Rachel saluted with a stake. “After you, Dr. Van Helsing.”

  Mary grimaced. The idea that she was the professor for their little group of monster hunters was not encouraging. The professor was supposed to be the smart, collected one. The way her brain kept taking little turns on the mental merry-go-round did not instill confidence. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door.

  The door opened as she raised her hand to give it a second rap. Cy looked out at them for a moment as if he’d forgotten that he’d invited them over. She wanted to say hi but waited for him to do it first. He didn’t say hi. He just stepped back to give them room to come in. Her stomach did a little twist as she silently went by him. Rachel looked around the house. She took in all the pictures and stuff and said, “Hard to believe this place is haunted.”

  Cy snorted.

  “How do I get to the basement?” Mary asked.

  “Through the kitchen,” he said, leading them back. A low counter divided the kitchen and living room. The door to the basement stairs was off to the side. He opened it for her.

  She went to the top of the stairs. “You guys should stay up here,” she told them. Cy shrugged and sat down at the kitchen table.

  “Don’t you need back-up?” Rachel asked.

  She shook her head. “It’s better if I go down alone.” She glanced one more time at Cy to check on him. He was flipping through a magazine. She wondered if he would still ignore her when she came back up. Would he ask about Ricky? Would he care?

  She took the first step down and stopped. It was awfully dark down there. “Where’s the light switch?”

  “At the bottom of the stairs.”

  “Perfect,” she muttered. She crept down the steps slowly. The last one made a loud creak that made her jump and almost fall. She gritted her teeth and told herself to calm down. Ricky hadn’t even done anything yet. No reason to panic. Yet.

  The basement floor was cold cement. The chill crept up through her Doc Martens and made her feet tingle. She searched for the light switch. The wall was rough cinder block. It was making the tips of her fingers tender as she brushed over it. She was about to call to Cy again to ask where the light switch was when she touched it. She flipped it and blinked at the sudden illumination. The basement was stacked with boxes five high. The light hung from a cord in the center of the ceiling. Her arrival disturbed a couple of moths. They fluttered up to dance around the light.

  She scanned the room, but all her eyes could register was junk, dust, and cobwebs. The space was depressing. Two people had died down here. One of them still haunted it. Why’d Ricky stick around? It was just a plain old basement. Nothing special. It shouldn’t be spooky, but ghosts never seemed to care. They took up residence wherever they liked. Well, time this one got evicted.

  She moved gingerly around the boxes, attentive for any vibes that might indicate spookiness. She knew how silly that seemed, but it was all she could do. Nothing was coming to her. She looked around the room with a little worry. She didn’t want to call Ricky out, but he wasn’t responding to her presence.

  “Ricky?” she whispered. No response. The furnace sat off in a corner. Boxes blocked her way. She began clearing a path.

  “Where are you, Ricky?” she asked in a quiet voice. She didn’t want to reach the furnace as Terri Kuwalchek’s face flashed through her mind, but maybe his anchor was near it. Ricky still did not respond.

  “Have you found anything?” Rachel called. Mary jumped and knocked over a box. She blew out a breath in frustration and put the box back in its place.

  “Nothing yet,” she called back. She was a little over a yard away from the furnace.

  “Come on Ricky, talk to me. I’ll listen,” she said. The front door slammed upstairs. Footsteps went into the kitchen. Mary could hear talking but could not make it out. She knew that she didn’t have much longer. If Ricky didn’t show up soon, she’d have to go. She pushed the remaining boxes out of her way and stood in front of the furnace.

  “Ricky!” she hissed. She reached out to the furnace, but the heat, coming off of it, made her stop short of touching it. She got on her hands and knees and crawled around the furnace. There had to be something, but all she found were some petrified bugs.

  The new person was at the top of the stairs with Rachel. “She’s not doing anything,” Mary heard her tell the unknown person.

  “Yeah right, she’s not,” Kyle said. He came stomping down the stairs.

  “Ricky, you stupid, unloved, piece of feces, where are you?” Mary said, but the homicidal maniac didn’t answer. She blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. What was it, her breath?

  “What do you think you’re doing down here?”

  Mary straightened and brushed off her hands. “Hi, Kyle.”

  He stood at the bottom of the stairs with his arms crossed. It looked like Mary was about to be evicted. “What are you doing here, freak?”

  She shrugged. “I thought I left something.”

  “In the basement?” he asked. He tugged at his shirt collar, and his eyes darted around the basement.

  She was already speaking before she thought that maybe it was bad idea to antagonize him. “Don’t worry, I didn’t disturb your dirty magazines.”

  Kyle’s face twisted in anger. “Get out of my house.”

  “I was just leaving,” she said. She approached the steps, but he was blocking the way. She paused for him to move. He didn’t budge.

  “If you want me to go, you need to move.” He continued to stare at her. His whole body was tense. She didn’t want to touch him. She had the feeling that if she did, he’d lash out. Rachel stepped onto the stairs.

  “Hey, what’s up?” she asked.

  “We’re going,” she replied. Rachel blinked and looked at Kyle.

  In a low harsh voice, he said, “Don’t ever come to my house again.”

  She let out a slow breath as she
tried to remain calm. “Fine, Kyle. Will you move?”

  “I mean it. This is my house, and I won’t have you in it.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Is the deed in your name or something?”

  He didn’t reply. He stepped to the side, forcing her to brush by him to go up the stairs. “I will make you regret the day you ever met me,” he whispered.

  She stopped dead on the stairs. She turned back to him in surprise. “What did you just say?”

  “I said get OUT,” he said through clenched teeth.

  Cy appeared beside Rachel. “What’s going on?”

  Mary’s mouth twisted into a grimace. She decided that she definitely didn’t want to be there anymore. She took the rest of the stairs two at a time and brushed past Rachel and Cy.

  He ran after her and caught her by the arm. “Mary, what’s up?”

  She flung his arm off. “I’m leaving. That should make you and your brother happy.”

  “Did Kyle threaten you or something?” he asked. His tone caught her attention. He hadn’t asked lightly. He sounded concerned, and the concern was aimed at her.

  “He told me to leave.”

  “What else?”

  His persistence was making her nervous. He sounded worried for her, but that couldn’t be right. He didn’t want her in his house either. Why was he insisting on questioning her about Kyle? “He told me to never come over again.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing! I have to go. Rach, come on.” Rachel grabbed her garlic and stakes from the kitchen and followed her out.

  They were halfway to Mary’s house before Rachel spoke. “So how’s Ricky?”

  “No clue.”

  Rachel pulled the car over abruptly. She undid her seat belt and turned fully to face Mary. “What happened in the basement?” she demanded.

  She shrugged. “Nothing happened.”

  “Don’t shut me out on this. We’re a team.”