Shearwater: Ocean Depths Book One (FULL)

by D. S. Murphy

  The only advantage was, even though it was a small school, the gossip lines didn’t pass so easily between levels, so no one knew who I was, or that I’d just lost my parents. People seemed friendly, a few even smiled at me. I’d gotten so used to sympathetic glances and whispers, I’d forgotten what it was like to be normal. Jackie dropped me off in the front office to check in and then left to run some other pre-class errands. I stood awkwardly waiting for the moon-faced lady behind the desk to acknowledge me.

  “Hiya, I’m Travis. Are you new this year?” said a voice behind me.

  I glanced over my shoulder at a younger boy with sandy red hair and freckles. After I established he was really talking to me, I turned back to him and nodded.

  “First day, can you tell?”

  “You’re American?” he said, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

  “Is it so obvious?” I asked, looking down at my uniform, afraid I’d gotten something wrong. I tugged at the hem of my skirt, the draft on my legs making me feel naked and vulnerable.

  “It’s the accent that gives it away.” His mischievous grin made me nervous. Just then the woman in the office looked at me over her spectacles. The plate on her desk said Mrs. Weavers. “Ah, Miss Clark, isn’t it?”

  I was suddenly grateful for my last name; I’m not sure why but I felt protected by that last bit of anonymity. I realized she was waiting for me to respond so I nodded, a little too eagerly.

  “Here’s your class schedule, love.” She had gray hair and a pouty mouth, that she somehow managed to make look lascivious, as if she had just shared a dirty joke with me.

  I reached out and took the schedule. She turned back to her computer and I headed into the hall, but then I heard behind me, “Travis, why don’t you show Miss Clark to her classes?” Travis put on a dopey grin, obviously pleased to act as a tour guide. I wasn’t sure if I should be flattered or if I just had the fascination of something new and unusual in such a small community.

  The high school was mostly modern, though Travis told me there were parts of the building that were over one hundred years old. The small chapel at the back was built even earlier—it was used on special prayer days, but otherwise mostly just for couples to make out in, or “snog” as he called it.

  Travis was a third year, just under me and Jackie, and a member of the chess club. I knew this about him, as well as what he brought for lunch and the names of all of his siblings, in the first five minutes. But I was happy to let him talk. He was fourteen but had the eager enthusiasm of a ten-year-old. Or maybe people were just less shy and awkward in Ireland than their teenage counterparts in America.

  As we walked around I tried to get him to show me where my other classes were and made notes in my binder so I would remember. The schedule changed a bit day to day, but my main classes would be History, Geography, Modern Languages, English, Music, Drama, PE, Art and Design, Technology and Religious Education. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that last one but I wasn’t going to make a big deal out of it.

  Mostly I wanted to keep my head down and not draw any unnecessary attention to myself. I learned quickly I needed to keep my mouth shut, as heads swiveled after us whenever I said anything to Travis and the hall resounded with my American accent.

  “I can show you to your next room after class. Should I wait for you?” Travis asked hopefully. I hesitated, feeling the need to set boundaries and make it to my other classes on my own. I didn’t know anything about the popularity hierarchy here, but hanging out with eager young chess players probably wouldn’t score me any points.

  Just then a girl with dark frizzy hair came over. I was pretty sure her long gold hoop earrings went against the dress code. “Beat it rugrat,” she said to Travis. Then she turned to me, ignoring him completely, “Clara, is it?” She looked me up and down. “I’m Patricia, this is my beau Kyle.” She nodded at the tall, dark skinned boy next to her. “I promised Jackie I’d keep an eye on you this morning.”

  “Oh… okay,” I said. While my uniform hung off my skinny frame, Patricia’s clung to her curvy body like plastic wrap. The top few buttons of her shirt were unbuttoned, and I caught Travis trying not to look at her cleavage.

  I shrugged in apology to Travis and waved him off.

  “Thanks Travis, you’ve been very helpful.”

  “Yeah, sure… well maybe I’ll see you at lunch then.” His shoulders slumped as he walked away. I felt a little bad for him, but I wasn’t going to be rushed into a friendship with the first boy who talked to me.

  “We are going to have to do something about your uniform,” Patricia whispered to me as soon as we sat down in the classroom.

  “Is something wrong with it?” I’d been very careful to follow the regulations. I even picked a skirt that was a little longer than necessary to hide my knees.

  “No, nothing. It’s perfect,” she grinned. “Perfect for a goody-two-shoes, teacher’s pet. But I’ve got a good feeling about you. You’ve got to show them they can’t control you. You need to resist just a little bit to let people know you aren’t afraid of the faculty.” She gave me a conspiratorial wink and pulled out some safety pins.

  I wasn’t sure I was ready for a wardrobe makeover right in the middle of my first class. On the other hand, I didn’t want to brand myself as a dork in my first few days by making the wrong first impression.

  “I’m self-conscious enough wearing skirts to school,” I said, stalling. “Can I have just a few days to get used to it?”

  “Suit yourself,” Patricia said, “but then I’m going to start taking up an inch every week until you get some sunlight on those thighs.” She smiled wickedly. I blushed as Kyle glanced at my lower body, and I wished my skirt went down to my ankles.

  I made it through the morning without incident. The first teacher made me stand up and introduce myself as a new student, but thankfully the second teacher just ignored me and went about teaching as usual.

  I chatted with kids sitting next to me, and Patricia introduced me to a few others. Riley, Kiara, Tristan… and more names I couldn’t remember. The cliques seemed much tighter than they were in American high school—these kids had all known each other since they were little, most had been classmates for over ten years already. At the same time, strangely, people seemed nicer and more open with me than I’d expected. In an American high school, I’m pretty sure it would have taken weeks to make any friends.

  After class, Patricia and Kyle walked me to the cafeteria. I saw Travis at a table waving at me, hopeful that I would come sit with him, but all the kids at his table looked about twelve years old.

  Patricia grabbed me by the arm and steered me over to another table where I saw Jackie, sunlight on her fiery red hair and a pair of heart shaped glasses on her head. She looked perfectly at ease, and beautiful.

  “How was your morning?” Jackie asked, peeling an orange.

  “Fine,” I said. “Patricia and the others have been really nice.”

  Derry joined us a few minutes later. While a lot of the other boys wore their uniforms in a slovenly fashion, loose and unkempt, Derry’s was crisp and form-fitting. When he crossed the cafeteria he almost looked like he was strutting on a walkway. Patricia was off socializing and Kyle was talking to someone on the other side of the table, so Derry and Jackie and I ate together, chatting about our classes.

  It was a few minutes before I realized something was off in the cafeteria. I saw hushed conversations and panic-stricken looks. At first I imagined people were sharing rumors about how my parents died. Or maybe some terrible history involving my mother or grandmother that I didn’t even know about. But they weren’t looking at me or sending glances in my direction. Whatever it was, it wasn’t about me.

  Patricia returned to our table and filled us in.

  “Bedelia Meath disappeared this weekend,” she said, leaning in close.

  “She’s missing?” Jackie asked.

  “Left her house Saturday, all dressed up. Said she was going on a date. Was
n’t anyone from school though—everybody’s been talking but nobody saw her Saturday night. Never came home. The police waited forty-eight hours but put out a missing person’s report this morning. They posted a copy in the main office, and they’ve been asking her friends questions.”

  “That’s awful,” Jackie said.

  “Her parents have already started handing out flyers.” Patricia reached into her pocket. She pulled out a photocopy with a picture of Bedelia, her details and a contact number. At that moment, two images flashed through my mind. The first was the dark-haired man I’d seen in the pub on Saturday night. The other was the mysterious blond boy I’d seen—or thought I’d seen—on the rocks.

  Jackie shot me a look but didn’t say anything. I knew she was also thinking about my dark stranger from the other night, but she was letting me decide whether or not to share. I shook my head. There was no way I wanted to get mixed up in rumors about a missing girl on my first day of school, but Patricia had already noticed our silent conversation.

  “What?” she asked.

  “It’s nothing,” I said.

  “You two know something,” her eyes widened.

  Jackie reached for Patricia’s hand, then looked at me. “This is probably an unrelated coincidence. You can’t tell anybody else about it.” Patricia nodded, and I sighed.

  “My mother grew up in Portballintrae. She left when she was a teenager and I’m not sure why. I have a photograph of her with some friends, and I’m trying to track them down. On Saturday night I saw someone I thought could be one of the kids in the photograph, but he looked… angry with me. Like he wanted to hurt me.”

  Patricia’s mouth hung open for a few seconds, then she said, “You’ve got to tell the police.”

  Derry interrupted, “We can’t go to the police just because this guy gave Clara a mean look. Maybe he was just having a bad day or angry at something else. Maybe Clara misread it.”

  “Can I see the picture?” Patricia asked.

  I pulled the photograph from my pocket, and as I did the note fell out too. Jackie picked it up, then paled slightly as she read it.

  “What’s this?” Jackie asked. “Where did this come from?”

  Derry took it from her and read it as well. He let out a slow whistle.

  “Found it on my front door, Saturday night after the Wake,” I admitted. “I was going to show it to you…” But I wasn’t actually certain I would have.

  “It’s just a strange note, it probably doesn’t mean anything.” Patricia took the note and read it out loud.

  “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, beware the dangers, return untouched. Someone pinned this to your front door?”

  I nodded. With a girl missing, the note seemed especially ominous.

  “Has Aedan seen this?” Derry asked.

  “No.” And I want to keep it that way. “I didn’t think it meant anything…”

  “But it sounds like a threat,” Jackie said. “Maybe it wasn’t even meant for you, maybe it was meant for Aedan.”

  I felt the blood draining from my face. “I hadn’t thought about that.” I suddenly felt like an idiot. “You think he’s wrapped up in something?”

  “If he is, keeping this message from him might not be a good idea.”

  I nodded, but wanted to distance myself from what was quickly becoming major drama.

  “But, there’s no way any of this stuff could have anything to do with me, right? I mean, I’m not even from here. Whatever is going on, wouldn’t it be best to just stay out of it? I never even met Bedelia.”

  “I agree, it’s probably nothing,” Jackie said. “On the other hand, it’s better to find out the truth and prove there is no connection, than to stick your head in the sand and be blindsided later. What if this note does have something to do with her disappearance. What if the police find out about it later, and ask why you didn’t tell them about it?”

  The hairs on my arm stood up. Jackie was right, though the thought of getting involved in a police investigation right now made me sick to my stomach. Sticking my head in the sand sounded like the perfect solution to me, or at least the most comfortable one.

  I glanced at Derry. “Can we go to the pub tonight, and find out if Liam knows anything first? If he can tell me who the kids are in the photo, maybe it will help me figure out the rest.” I wasn’t sure why I didn’t just ask Aedan, but teens didn’t always share problems with their parents. If there was bad blood between my mom and her friends, Liam was more likely to know about it.

  “Sure, we can stop by right after school,” he said.

  Jackie pursed her lips together but didn’t say anything. I knew she was disappointed in me, but she didn’t know what it was like to be a new student in a new school. I was trying hard not to be the center of gossip, which meant I needed to keep some cards to myself.

  I chewed my lip however, thinking about what Jackie had said. Was I being stupid and selfish, by not volunteering a possible clue? Was this girl, Bedelia, in danger? I promised myself I’d make a decision after meeting with Liam, though my stomach was in knots for the rest of the day.

  After lunch was English. The teacher’s name was Justin Sadleir. He was young and kind of hot—at least that’s the way Patricia described him just before heading into the classroom. I could see the appeal. He had dark hair and was wearing a blue shirt with a jacket and tie. He smiled at me when he handed me a list of the semester’s books to read. I felt a little proud that I’d already read two thirds of them; famous works of classic literature. Most of the others I’d heard of, but never gotten around to. I also got a sheet describing the aims for the course, which were to “Express personal reactions to or opinions about world events, discuss concepts relating to literature, communicate individual responses to poems and literature, and develop individuality as a reader by experiencing success and enhancement of self-esteem through reading.”

  I soon learned that this meant a lot of group discussions and participation, something that frankly terrified me. But at least we were talking about books, and I loved books. I was able to follow the conversation and Mr. Sadleir didn’t seem to pick on students mercilessly, unless they looked unprepared. I vowed to be prepared for class and finish all the readings ahead of time.

  And then, finally, it was time for music class. I was excited to find the music room, which had always been a place of comfort for me, but I froze when I entered the classroom and saw a familiar face framed by dark curls—the rude shopgirl from Portrush. She looked away and pretended she hadn’t noticed me.

  “Clara,” the teacher pulled me aside as I came in the door. “Welcome, I’m Mrs. Tierney. I heard you were quite the singer.” She was wearing a simple gray sweater over a black dress, and had a pair of glasses hanging from her slender neck on a silver chain. Her hair was streaked with gray but her face was still smooth and young. “I’m really excited to have you in my class this year, and there are some competitions coming up we could really use you for. Why don’t you just jump in wherever you want today, and we’ll figure out where to put you later.”

  I nodded, grateful for the teacher’s interest, though I’d planned on holding back for the first few days. Nobody liked a show off and my opera voice would probably be out of place in a high school choir.

  “Roisin, can you scoot over so Clara can sit next to you?” she said to the dark-haired girl I’d seen in Portrush. So that was her name. Maybe she didn’t recognize me; she’d hardly looked at me in the shop.

  She looked me over with her clear blue eyes, and sneered. “But I’m still lead soprano, right?” Roisin asked, with a hint of a whine.

  “We’ll reassign places in a few days, once we see where Clara fits.” Mrs. Tierney said.

  “But she’ll have to audition to get a place.” Roisin pouted, crossing her arms.

  Exaggerated facial expressions had always rubbed me the wrong way. Maybe it’s because I don’t have any; my facial expressions betray my feelings and moods, I have trouble enough reigni
ng them in. I’d never be able to have enough self-control to deliberately used practiced expressions.

  “I’ll just sit over there,” I said, pointing to a chair on the far right. Mrs. Tierney frowned, but didn’t force the issue. I breathed a sigh of relief. I didn’t want to get into any politics on the first day, and I knew from experience musicians were protective of their placements, which signified ability. If Roisin had earned first chair, she had every right to be defensive of her space. That wasn’t an excuse for being such a bitch on Saturday, though.

  I didn’t care, I just wanted to sing. Since that moment when I saw the police and knew my parents were dead, the experience of singing had been broken for me. But I desperately wanted to put it back together. I was always happiest when singing, and I needed to feel happy again.

  We sang a song I recognized, and then one I didn’t, but I had no trouble reading the music. At first I held my voice in check, but with everybody singing together, I let go a little, breathing in deeply and pushing the notes from my stomach as I’d been taught. I noticed the other girls eyeing me and got quieter.

  “Wonderful, WONDERFUL,” Mrs. Tierney said, clapping her hands. Clara, you have a tremendous voice.” Roisin turned and gave me dagger eyes. Guess she noticed me now.

  The last period of the day was marked PE. I’d brought gym shorts, a white T-shirt and some tennis shoes, which I changed into when I finally found the gym. The other students had already started playing volleyball.

  The teacher, Mr. Kearns, told me to call him Martin and added me into a rotation. I’m not particularly athletic, but I made an effort. Unfortunately that wasn’t enough. These girls took sports seriously. They were all wearing knee and elbow pads and would dive for the ball almost every time it came over the net. When it came near me I stumbled towards it and tried to scoop it back up. I was successful about half the time. I soon got tired of apologizing every time I screwed up. The girls compensated by going for balls that should have been mine, not that I cared.

  Then one ball went high and was coming down straight to me. I put my hands up to set it, but the girl on my left shoved me out of the way with her hips and hit it instead. I landed awkwardly on the ground, and rubbed my sore wrist.