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Sapphire: A Paranormal Romance

Page 9

by Bryan W. Alaspa


  Jimmy held up both his hands palms up and shrugged.

  George paced for a moment. “You and I need to visit Tabitha at the newspaper, sooner rather than later.”

  Jimmy nodded. “She’ll still have archives, right? The fire wouldn’t have destroyed them all and the people who removed this article on the microfilm wouldn’t have eliminated the issues at the newspaper, right?”

  “If they have,” George said, “then we’re in some very big trouble.”

  Jimmy felt a chill run up and down his spine. Who the hell was Sapphire? More to the point, what was she?

  “We can go tomorrow,” Jimmy said, “provided I survive the day, of course.”

  There was a lot of talk between George and Jimmy the rest of the afternoon as they put things back in order. Jimmy carefully locked the place up and they drove back to Jimmy’s house. Jimmy said goodbye to George, unloaded his bike from the trunk, and then went into the house.

  Jimmy’s mother was asleep on the couch, and Jimmy decided it was best not to disturb her. Outside, the sun was going down and night was approaching. Jimmy felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness. He wondered if, somehow, Sapphire might appear at his window or get a message to him that she wanted to meet with him. At the same time, Jimmy was terrified of what he was going to encounter the following day.

  Just the thought of running into the football players made Jimmy’s stomach tie up in knots. He wondered if he would be able to get any sleep tonight. More importantly, Jimmy wondered how he was going to get through Monday. There were only so many places to run, and the school was just not that big. At some point, if the jocks wanted to find him, they were going to be able to find him. And when they found Jimmy, they were going to beat him within an inch of his life, and then maybe take the rest of that inch.

  Jimmy wasn’t a fighter. The only fighting he had seen was in movies and comic books. Up until the night of the dance, Jimmy had never been in any kind of face-to-face conflict. Once, when he was a freshman in high school, the kid at the locker next to him had challenged him to a fight. Thankfully, Jimmy was friends with the quarterback of the freshman football team, who had the locker on the left. The quarterback had told the kid to back off and told Jimmy not to worry about it, and that if the guy bothered him the next day to let him know.

  These days, however, Jimmy had no one to protect him, his football player friend having long since moved away. The new crop of football players were more stereotypical of the kind of bullying jocks you always saw in movies. They had immediately seen Jimmy for the quiet, nerdish, bookworm that he was. It was like blood in the water to a bunch of hungry sharks.

  Jimmy walked quietly into the kitchen, found the makings of a sandwich and indulged. He ate quietly over the kitchen sink, barely tasting the bread and meat. Jimmy stared out the kitchen window and into the backyard. There was nothing going on out back except for the dimming light and the back lawn. For the first time Jimmy realized he rarely spent any time there in the yard.

  Jimmy’s mind was racing. He had no idea what he was going to do tomorrow; he would be up all night, at this rate.

  Still, what if Sapphire came? Would she come to the window? Would she still be wearing the same dress? Was she a regular, normal girl, or was she a ghost, or something else? What was going on with the archives at the library?

  Jimmy decided that he would visit Tabitha tomorrow and let her know what was happening. Hopefully she would be able to lead him to the newspaper archives and they would be able to find the missing stories. After that, Jimmy figured he would pay a visit to Jesse. Jesse would want to know what had happened to the archives. Jimmy figured the man would be outraged.

  Jimmy reached into the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk. He was tempted to drink from it directly, but his mother would have a fit, and he had already done enough to upset her. So he grabbed a glass from the upper cabinet to the left of the sink and drank some milk before setting the glass and his plate in the sink. After that, Jimmy decided that his bedroom was the place to be. He was tired, but also worried, anxious, and hopeful about Sapphire.

  Jimmy entered his bedroom and took off his shirt. He lay back on his bed and stared at the ceiling, trying his best to stay awake, but eventually the events of the day took their toll on his mind. Jimmy closed his eyes, telling himself that he was only going to close them for a minute, but he was soon sound asleep.

  8

  Jimmy’s alarm went off and his eyes flew open, staring at the ceiling and breathing hard. At first he was surprised that he had managed to sleep at all, but then he felt a complete and total sense of panic when he realized it was Monday, and that he was likely to get his ass handed to him before the day was over. Jimmy had a moment to wonder if he would end up riding in an ambulance or if he’d have to ride his bike, while bleeding and broken, to the ER.

  With a groan, Jimmy crawled out of bed. He shuffled into the bathroom and stood at the sink, staring at himself in the mirror. His hair stood up all over, and his eyes had dark circles beneath them. Jimmy sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. All that succeeded in doing was make his hair stand up even more. After a while, Jimmy decided that he looked like a very scared young man and nothing he could do was going to make himself look tougher.

  Jimmy turned on the shower and waited until the water got so hot that he could barely stand it. Then he stepped inside and let the water wash over him. He decided that it would be OK if he took a little longer than usual, as it might be the last shower he ever got to experience. When the water began to transition from boiling hot to lukewarm, Jimmy decided it was time to get out. Jimmy stepped out and dried himself off. It was while he was drying his legs that he noticed that both the muscles in his legs and his hands were shaking.

  When Jimmy got out of the bathroom, he noticed how quiet the house was. His mother must have already left for the morning. Jimmy sighed, that was a bad sign as she had not said goodbye to him like she always did. That meant she was still mad and not only was he going to have to fight his way through school, he was going to probably have to spend the evening fighting his own mother. The only question Jimmy had was would he be fighting her in the living room or looking up at her while laying in a hospital bed after the jocks had put him there.

  Jimmy ate breakfast quietly over the kitchen sink. The cereal tasted like sawdust on his tongue. Jimmy found himself staring into the backyard again. He noticed how there was a small hill, a kind of lump, in the middle of the backyard. He had never noticed that before.

  The bike ride to school was one of tension and fear. It was all Jimmy could do not to drop his bike and dive for cover beside the road each time a car passed. Jimmy knew that the jocks all drove together in one car like some holdout from the 1950s. The car was Stan Little’s, and Clinton Marsters usually hung his dopey head out the passenger window and yelled at passersby like a dog that had discovered it had a voice.

  Avoiding the football players was going to be the problem throughout the day. First, there was the problem that the school itself was just not very big. The other problem was that Stan, Clinton, and Dale were always together. Somehow they had ended up in nearly all of the same classes. They walked the halls together. They had lunch together. They were like a unified force, and they walked the halls of the school as if they owned the place. The halls parted at their passage. It was only a matter of time before Jimmy and Stan were standing eye to eye. It was only a matter of time before Clinton would kick Jimmy’s ribs in for the wound to his hand.

  Jimmy got to school and realized he had arrived much earlier than he had intended. That was a good thing; the jocks didn’t bother coming to school until moments before the bell for the first class rang. Most times they didn’t even arrive until well after that bell rang.

  Jimmy locked up his bike and quickly ducked inside. When he entered the main door, Jimmy stood there for a moment and debated where he should go. The library was like a garlic factory to vampires for Stan and his ilk. The mere sight
of books was enough to send them into a kind of apoplexy. Jimmy headed there and found a cubicle in a far corner that gave him a good view of the rest of the library just in case they got bold.

  Jimmy tried his best to read a book he had been reading for the past few days. He thought about trying to find George, but George was likely down in the cafeteria with some other friends of his. While Jimmy was his best friend, George did hang out with some other guys who liked to play role-playing games. Even Jimmy did not find this particularly appealing. Jimmy watched the clock as the minutes ticked by. He wondered if this was how people felt on Death Row.

  The minutes ticked by until it was time to head to class. Jimmy glanced at the clock and decided that it was probably the best time to try. He hoped that Stan and the rest of his crew still had not bothered to show up. Jimmy gathered up his books and backpack and headed out into the hall.

  The hallways were bustling with high schoolers. Most of them were gathered in small groups in and around the lockers, making traversing the halls a tricky thing. Others were paired off, guys and girls, leaning against the row of lockers to make out. Jimmy kept his eyes scanning as he made his way down the lower-level hallway. His first class was algebra, and it was at the room at the end of the hallway on the right.

  Jimmy walked quickly and quietly. He had become very good, over the years, at navigating the halls, diving between people, and walking against traffic. Jimmy could travel like a wraith, dodging between the mashing couples and ducking around the clustered groups that drove down the middle of the hall. Jimmy’s life was trying to remain on the periphery, away from prying eyes and the people who could hurt him.

  Just as he was about to reach the classroom, Stan, Clinton, and Dale appeared at the top of the short flight of stairs in that exact order. Jimmy immediately dove to his left, ducking into a small alcove created by the school’s bookstore. Jimmy was friends with Clark Munch, the kid who ran the bookstore in the morning. Jimmy knocked frantically and Clark opened the door, his mouth filled with an energy bar.

  “Can I come in?” Jimmy said.

  Clark’s eyes widened in surprise. “Of course not. I’m not allowed to have anyone in here. Did you really stab one of the football players with a fork at the dance on Friday night?”

  Jimmy nodded. “That’s why I have to hide. Stan and company are at the top of the stairs and I’d like to live through the day, if possible. Can I just duck in and hide for a few minutes until my first class? I won’t be any trouble.”

  Clark chewed his energy bar slowly and swallowed. He nodded. “Fine.”

  Clark pushed the door open and Jimmy ducked in. The bookstore was really just a long, narrow room filled with metal shelves. Students appeared at the window facing the hall and asked for whatever supplies they needed. At the front of the store were supplies like pens, paper, and notebooks. Textbooks and paperbacks were near the middle of the store and at the back, and separated from view in the hall was an area filled with old textbooks that mostly were not used anymore. Jimmy knew the store well, as he had helped do inventory here for a modest payment during the summer months.

  Jimmy nodded to Clark and ducked down behind the spot near the back. There was a beat-up wooden table and wobbly chairs back there where he had sat counting textbooks and sheets of paper during the summer. During those months, the school was deserted and they were able to up the radio very loud and had a blast. Right now Jimmy just hoped he was hidden from the hall. He sat down and clutched his backpack to his chest.

  Clark sat on a stool near the open window and Jimmy peered around the edge of the bookshelf to watch the students pass by. At no point did he see Stan or his cronies walk by. Jimmy had the sneaking suspicion that the three jocks knew where his first class was and were just going to wait at the top of the stairs for him. Jimmy felt a growing sense of alarm and outright panic.

  Jimmy closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. As soon as his eyes were closed the image of Sapphire appeared. She was wearing her gorgeous blue dress and dancing in the moonlight. She twirled and twirled on the beach along the river that, apparently, existed only in Jimmy’s imagination. Sapphire came closer, until Jimmy could see his own reflection in the tiny black dot that was her pupil, and she smiled.

  “Be brave,” she whispered. “You can do anything, Jimmy. You’re stronger than you think.”

  Jimmy snapped his eyes open. Clark was closing up the wooden window overlooking the hall.

  “Closing time, Jimmy,” Clark said.

  “Did you see Stan or the others out there?” Jimmy asked.

  Clark shrugged. “I wasn’t really looking. Sorry.”

  Clark held out his hands in a kind of apology and shrugged again. He began shutting off the lights, and Jimmy was suddenly in darkness.

  Jimmy gathered his backpack and his courage and walked toward the door. As he passed Clark, Clark slapped Jimmy on the back.

  “You’ll be fine,” Clark said.

  Jimmy shrugged. With the door locked behind him, Jimmy ventured slowly into the hall. He looked across the hallway and saw that his homeroom was filled. Jimmy looked to his left and saw that the spot at the top of the stairs was empty. He sighed in relief and quickly dashed across the hall. He only realized he had been holding his breath when he got into the classroom and sat down at his desk.

  Jimmy closed his eyes and smiled. It was going to be a long day. He wondered if he could keep this kind of thing up day after day for the rest of his high school life. At some point, he guessed, he was going to have to face off against those three. Jimmy shuddered. He took out his books and set them on the desk. His hands were shaking as he took out his notebook and his pencil.

  Jimmy glanced at the clock. Algebra was an hour and a half long. He sighed again. By his calculations, he had an hour and a half to live.

  Too bad he was spending that time in algebra.

  The next hour and a half was a mixture of torture and sheer terror, with a heaping helping of boredom thrown in. Jimmy wanted the class to end because, well, it was algebra, and he was bored. At the same time, each minute brought dread and worry that he was about to die. At the halfway point, Jimmy broke out in a sweat.

  The teacher droned on and on and on. Jimmy did his best to concentrate on the numbers and the equations, but it was impossible. Math was like that on days when he wasn’t in fear of his life and it was even more so now that he felt life slipping through his fingers. Jimmy took plenty of notes, but when he looked back at them he found more doodles and scribbles than anything substantive. Jimmy just hoped that the teacher would go over this again before finals.

  When time for the bell drew near, Jimmy decided to quietly gather up his books and backpack. When the bell rang, he would bolt out of the classroom. Woe to anyone who got in his way. He hoped that by making a kind of sprint into the hallway, he’d be into the next classroom, which was just down the hall and to the left, before Stan and his cronies had a chance to get out of their first class.

  The clock ticked away. Jimmy hoped that the teacher wouldn’t notice what he was doing. There had been many a student busted by this particular teacher for trying to pack up and get out early. Most of the teachers in the school preferred their students to stay attentive until the last second. Jimmy clutched his backpack and tensed the muscles in his legs. He felt like a coiled spring.

  The teacher read off the homework for the night. Jimmy read and re-read the board until he had the homework assignment memorized. He would write it all down in his notebook when he got to the next class. Jimmy said a brief prayer of thanks that he was not in any of the same classes as the jocks.

  The bell rang and Jimmy sprang to his feet. He pushed his way past the girl who sat next to him, who had also jumped up when the bell rang. She gave Jimmy a cross look that he caught out of the corner of his eye, but he was past her in a flash. The door was his target. As he raced through the door and hung a left turn, for a moment he had the entire hall to himself. Jimmy immediately turned to the left a
nd began walking.

  The hand came down on his shoulder at that moment.

  Jimmy let out a strangled noise that would probably best be described as a squeak. He knew immediately that no friend in his own circle had a grip that strong. Jimmy was spun around and found himself staring into Stan’s snarling face.

  “Where ya goin’, Jimmy?” Stan hissed.

  “I-I-I…” Jimmy stammered.

  “We have unfinished business,” Stan said with menace, and his hand tightened on Jimmy’s shoulder.

  “Wh-wh-what?” Jimmy blurted. “W-w-wait...”

  Stan acted as if he couldn’t hear him and began dragging Jimmy back toward the small three-step staircase just to the right of the classroom. At the top of these stairs was where Jimmy had seen Stan and the others before the bell. Jimmy’s eyes rolled wildly in their sockets and he looked around for help. Instead, it appeared as if the entire school knew what was happening and was standing off to the side, crowded near the lockers along the wall.

  Jimmy’s feet had barely touched the bottom step when Stan grabbed him by the neck and lifted his feet off the ground. To Jimmy’s left was a short bank of lockers and then a door that led to a courtyard and parking lot. Beyond that were bleachers and a football field. There would be no one else out there near the bleachers at this time of day and, more importantly, no teachers.

  Jimmy felt as if he were floating. He had time to note the fact that his toes were barely clutching the tile floor and then he was shoved through the door and the fresh air was in his nose. He smelled freshly cut grass. He looked up into the sky and saw how blue the sky was. Puffy white clouds were just starting to form, and they drifted slowly overhead. He saw all of this with perfect clarity.

  “Wait,” Jimmy said. “Wait, please.”

  “Shut up,” Stan said. “Time to face the music.”

  The bleachers were getting closer. Dale and Clinton stepped from the shadows beneath them and their eyes let Jimmy know that they were planning on giving him a very serious beating. There was outright hatred in Clinton’s eyes. The jock held his bandaged hand down at his side, but his other hand was already clenched in a fist and held out in front of him.

 

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