by Joy Elbel
“Three thousand dollars.” “ Three thousand?” Oh my God, was he serious? Three hundred was about all I could afford. I couldn’t just ask my parents to help! Even if I told them the honest truth, they wouldn’t believe me. I guess I didn’t need to worry about college after all. With this kind of expense hanging over my head, I would be spending the next few years as an indentured servant to the Charlotte’s Grove High School.
“Yes, three thousand dollars. I asked Principal Lascher for the replacement cost this morning and told him it would be paid for in full courtesy of the Black Raven Society. I figured you could get the club up and running and come up with some ideas for fund raisers. We need to get that bill paid for before you graduate.”
Okay, slight sense of relief at the fact that he didn’t expect me to fork the money over right away. But I certainly didn’t need another project resting on my shoulders. Everyone seemed to want something from me lately. “Help me find Crimson.” “Help me track down my adoptive parents.” “Marry me and become my twisted serial killer bride.” Not to mention the fact that I was expected to make huge decisions about college that would affect the rest of my life. I wanted to find a nice warm hole, crawl inside, and hibernate until all of my problems were resolved.
“Okay, but I don’t even have the first clue of where to start as far as fund raising goes. I’ve barely participated in extracurricular activities let alone organized one. Tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it.”
Mr. Raspatello shook his head no. “This is your project—you need to find a way to make it work. My only advice is that you need to find yourself a partner—preferably a junior so that whoever you choose can keep the Society running this fall. It’s your job to figure out the details. I’ll give you until next Friday to find your successor and come up with three ways you plan to raise enough money.” With that, he picked up his newspaper and turned to the sports page.
Conversation over, I guess. Now what? I barely knew anyone in this stupid school and everyone I did know was a senior. There were two juniors in my AP English class but I’d never spoken a word to either one of them. Petra Kalishnikov, the Ukrainian foreign exchange student, barely even spoke English and would be on the first plane home at the end of the semester. That left one other choice—Brooke Morgan. And I was pretty certain that the girl hated me. Honestly, FML.
Brooke was one of those people who was competitive. I’m talking super competitive. If Mr. Raspatello asked the class a question, you could be certain that her hand would be the first one shooting into the air with the answer. The only problem was that half of the time, she didn’t even know the answer or raised her hand before he was even finished with the question. I noticed a definite pouty expression on her face every time he praised me for the latest assignment I turned in. And the day he asked me for my permission to enter one of my short stories in a contest, she cried. No joke, she walked out of the room in tears. Crawling to her for help wasn’t going to be fun.
And apparently, nothing else in my day was going to be fun either. Lucas joined me for lunch but we barely spoke a word. His mind seemed to be preoccupied with something he didn’t want to discuss. But then again, so was mine. I didn’t get much sleep the night before and I highly doubted that he did either. On a normal day, I would have been counting down the seconds until it was time to go home but not today. Today, I simply didn’t want to be anywhere.
Shelly retrieved me from school in the same mood she was in when she dropped me off—solemn and silent. True to his word, when I got to my room I saw that my dad had removed every door in the attic and fixed the wall in my closet. Even though there was nothing technically holding me in, something about it made me feel like a prisoner. I was simply miserable so I decided to write since it was the only thing that seemed to make me feel better on crappy days like this one. Then I realized that my dad had my laptop. So I took a few minutes to count how many days were left until I turned 18 and marked my calendar accordingly. 109 days to go until I could legally leave this house and never look back. Not that I had anywhere else to go or anything, but just knowing that it was an option gave me something to look forward to— assuming that I lived long enough to see my birthday.
If I’d had my car, I would have driven to the police station to see if there were any new leads on Crimson’s disappearance. If I’d had my phone, I would have at least called the station. But I had neither. The only link I had to the outside world from my open-door cell was television. I changed into some sweats and fuzzy socks and plopped my depressed ass down onto the futon. I switched to the local channel and watched old sitcom re-runs until the news came on.
Even though I assumed that details about kidnapping and murder would be their number one priority, I watched countless mind numbing segments in the hopes that maybe what I was looking for was still to come. Local sports, the daily recipe, and seven day weather forecast scrolled by on my screen but i barely paid any attention. Finally, something did actually catch my eye.
The focus of the entertainment segment was an interview with Jonas regarding the reopening of the Bantam Theater. Just like the day I accidentally snapped a photo from Rachel’s phone, the theater on the screen looked much different than it did to me in real life. It was fascinating to finally see what everyone else thought was so beautiful about that place. remodeled. The interior was pristine, every fixture newly I could see so much more detail than I could
when I was actually there. As the camera panned up to the balcony, I couldn’t help but notice that there was something very weird, something very off about it but I couldn’t figure out exactly what it was.
I got down on the floor right in front of the TV in anticipation of another close up. The interview lasted for a few more minutes and the whole time I was on pins and needles waiting for the balcony to come into view again. When the segment ended without another clear view of it, I scampered back to the futon and grabbed the remote. I hit rewind on the DVR until I found the screenshot I was interested in. With the TV freeze framed, I scrutinized every inch of the balcony but still couldn’t figure out what looked different about it. With my attention so focused on trying to pick out what exactly was catching my eye, I nearly jumped out of my skin when Shelly popped her head in the doorway and announced that dinner was ready. I gave her a quick nod then set a recording for the eleven o’clock news. If they replayed that interview, I didn’t want to miss it.
After a long silent meal with my jailers, I went back upstairs and focused on doing my homework. Make that tried to focus. Now that the main door to the attic was gone, I twitched with every tiny sound I heard. I never really felt safe in the first place but I felt even less so now. If Jackson wanted to kidnap me, I was an easy target. Allison, Crimson, and Portia were in public places when they were abducted—I was praying that he wasn’t bold enough to change his MO now.
I tried very hard to stay awake for the news but never even made it close. With no outside contact, boredom overtook me and I was out like a light by 10. Given all the circumstances, it’s no wonder I had a very strange dream that night.
I dreamed that I was on the snowy banks of a half frozen river bed. While the surface was covered by a thin sheet of ice, I could see that the water near the bottom was still moving sluggishly downstream. The trees were bare of any leaves but each branch sparkled with a bright icy sheen. It was a place of beauty and serenity where even the biting chill of winter couldn’t seem to touch me.
As I followed the winding swath cut by the river, I saw something moving in the distance. It was something white on the opposite bank that was barely discernible against the snowy backdrop and it was swiftly heading my way. I increased the speed of my gait, desperate to get a closer look at what it was. My feet crunched through the snow and my breath cast an icy trail behind me as I broke into a full run. When I could finally make out what it was, I gasped at the sight of its beauty.
It was a dog. A dog with a coat as white as the dazzling landscape. The anima
l came to rest directly across the river from me and lifted one paw as though to greet me. I raised my hand in acknowledgement because even though it was just a dog, it wasn’t. There was something special about this particular beast. There was an air of recognition, of intelligent cognizance in the way it looked at me. It felt like I was greeting an old friend, someone who knew me well but whose name I couldn’t quite place. As I stood there trying to figure out where I’d seen the dog before, he abruptly took a step forward toward the river.
“Stay!” I shouted in hopes that he was familiar with basic commands. The surface of the river appeared strong enough to hold his weight but if I was wrong, he would plunge into the frigid water and I wouldn’t be able to help him back out.
Obediently, the dog settled back into his original spot but began to prance agitatedly in place. Restlessly, he spun around in a circle, swishing his fluffy tail through the snow as he twirled. He wanted to be on the other side of the river with me and I would have given anything to have him by my side, too. Everything but his life, that is.
Once again, the dog attempted to cross the icy flow. He placed one massive paw onto the frozen surface and I hurled another sharp command at him.
“No!” He looked into my eyes like he couldn’t understand why I didn’t want him and let out a mournful howl to rival that of any wolf. It broke my heart to see him like that—it broke my heart because I knew I was breaking his. Unable to bear being near him any longer, I turned and walked away from the water and my canine friend. He followed me the only way he knew how—the sound of his cries echoed through the forest as I left him behind.
36. Not So Fully Engaged
I woke up feeling sad. Not because of the million and one real reasons I had to actually be depressed—no, I woke up sad because of the dream. It wasn’t exactly a nightmare but it left an awful feeling in my heart that I wasn’t able to shake. I needed to have a good day for a change, one that made me feel that getting out of bed and venturing out into the world was a wise decision for once. Unfortunately, my day started out the same as every other one had for the last few months. Crappy.
Another heaping helping of the silent treatment for breakfast led to me to not even want to talk to anyone when I got to school either. When Zach said good morning, I replied with, “What’s so good about it?’ and just walked away from him. He sent the text to my dad and that one act snowballed into my current situation. He may feel good about the fact that I wasn’t allowed to spend time with Lucas now either but I certainly didn’t. He may not have lost his temper with Lucas but his jealousy caused just as much harm as it did the day he beat up Ryan.
When Rachel jumped out of her seat excitedly at the sight of me, I almost walked back out of our homeroom door. Simply put, I was in a bad mood and I kind of wanted to stay that way. From experience, though, I knew that she would follow me down the hallway and tackle me with good cheer so I gave her a weak smile and proceeded to my seat.
“OMG! Ruby! I thought you would be jumping for joy this morning—what’s wrong?” she asked with enthusiasm. On a good day, her bubbly charm was infectious. On a bad one, however, it felt more like a raging infection. I didn’t want to be cheered up. I wanted to pop a healthy dose of antibiotics that would make the cheerfulness that was trying to seep into me go away for good.
It wasn’t the right time or place for me to explain everything that was wrong. mood was probably grossly And since I figured her good exaggerated in proportion to
whatever had her so excited in the first place, I simply said nothing. I wasn’t going to get my hopes up over something that would turn out to be trivial and have no bearing on my current situation. As always, my refusal to answer her question went unnoticed and she plunged directly into the source of her happiness. This time, I was glad she did.
“Ruby, Jackson’s in jail for kidnapping and murder— why aren’t you doing the happy dance with me? Drake’s off the hook and as soon as they get that nasty old creeper to talk, they’ll know where to find Crimson. And of course you know what that means, don’t you? You never have to set foot in the Bantam Theater ever again!”
“What!?” I exclaimed in disbelief. “How? When? Quick, girl, I need details!” Zach was right—it really was a good morning.
“Well, the police tracked those packages you received back to a delivery service downtown. The clerk there remembered exactly who sent them and gave a detailed description of Jackson. They took him into custody around eight o’clock last night. How did you not know about it?”
And how could she forget that I was stranded on Rosewood Island with barely any connection to the outside world? It figures—the one night I fell asleep early, I missed something this big. Luckily, I recorded the news last night and could watch it the second I got home. I was a bit peeved that she didn’t find a way to tell me last night but I suppose given the circumstances, she was concentrating more on Jackson’s arrest than my incarceration. Briefly, I reminded her of my current state of lockdown.
“Oh, I totally forgot that you didn’t have a phone. Or the internet. Or a life. But hey, maybe this is the start of better days for all of us, you know? This is Valentine’s Week after all. Time for romance to start blossoming all around us. Drake and Crimson can pick up where they left off. Boone and I can go back to enjoying our time together. You and Zach can…” she trailed off awkwardly.
“We can what?” I asked, slightly afraid of her response. Things didn’t feel the same between Zach and me but I’d been hoping maybe all of it was in my head. I was wrong—Rachel could either feel it too or worse yet, she knew something I didn’t know. Maybe Zach didn’t actually forget about Valentine’s Day—maybe he was ignoring it on purpose.
Rachel began to nervously twirl her hair between her fingers. She didn’t want to answer me—I could see it written all over her face. And at this point, I didn’t want her to respond. She just gave me excellent news and I wanted to savor that happy feeling for as long as I possibly could. Happy feelings weren’t so easy to come by for me so I changed the subject.
“I imagine that news of Jackson’s arrest made front page of the Courier today. I’ll have to make Shelly stop off somewhere for a copy on our way home. Maybe once they see that I wasn’t lying to them about the other night they’ll reduce my sentence.”
Rachel relaxed and let her hair drop casually between her fingers. “Well, I certainly hope so. Do you think they would mind if I came over to visit tonight? I could really use some help with my lines for the play. Lucas always tells me he’s too busy to help and Zach wants absolutely nothing to do with this play. If Shelly says it’s okay, will you help me rehearse?”
“Sure. When I show them the newspaper, they’re both going to feel like total jackasses. But after that mystery text, it’s going to be a while before I’m allowed to date again.”
With quizzical eyes, Rachel asked, “What mystery text?” Whoops. I didn’t tell her about the text because I was afraid that we would argue when I told her who I thought sent it. Now, I would have to discuss it with her—but later tonight and definitely not with Zach and everyone else in homeroom within earshot.
As the bell for first period rang, I gave her a quick, “We’ll talk about it tonight,” and ran out the door before Zach could approach me. My life was still far from good, but at least things seemed to be heading in the right direction. Talking to him today would have been nothing but a step backward for me.
I got into Shelly’s car with a stony expression even though I was giggling like a happy little idiot on the inside. I didn’t want her to know that something was up so I pretended to be just as grim and unemotional as I had been since Sunday night. Curtly, I requested that she stop at the convenience store so that I could pick up a copy of today’s newspaper. She gave me a funny look but pulled into the parking lot anyway.
I walked through the lot nonchalantly but once inside, I excitedly asked the first employee I saw to point me in the direction of the newspapers. As soon as it was in
my hot little hands, I flipped it open and stared with satisfaction at the front page. “Local Man Imprisoned for Brutal Slayings.” Who would have thought that such a grim headline could bring a smile to my face? Paranoid that the other customers were asking themselves that very same question, I hurriedly cashed out and was already out the door before I realized that I didn’t even wait for my change. Oh well, what I now held in my hands was worth the extra quarter I paid for it.
When I got home, I read the story like twelve times. Although my name wasn’t specifically given, it was mentioned that the gifts Jackson sent me were what cracked the case wide open. There, everyone should be satisfied now. I helped police capture a dangerous psychopath—that ought to be enough to help me win back my freedom.
I waited until dinnertime to share my surprise. When Shelly called up the stairs to let me know that our meal was ready, I tucked the newspaper under my arm and gladly joined them at the kitchen table. Before I sat down, I tossed it onto my dad’s still empty plate and took my seat without a word while I waited for my apology.
“What’s this?” he asked before he caught a glimpse at the headline. Once he saw what the story was about, he buried himself in the paper until he was done reading it.
My apology should be coming any second now. Any second. Okay, so he was making me work for it. Fine. He had a hard time saying he was sorry but it would be worth the wait. Finally, he opened his mouth to release those gushing words of forgiveness I was expecting but something else came out.
“This doesn’t mean you’re completely off the hook, you know. You may not have been lying about this part but it still doesn’t erase the fact that you keep sneaking boys into this house without our permission. I’ll let you have your laptop back but that’s it. You’ll have to earn my trust before you get the rest of your stuff.”
