by Karen Fuller
Luke sat down behind her. Leaning forward, he whispered, “It’ll get better in a day or two.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it,” she whispered back.
Luke laughed softly as the bell rang.
Sara’s desk was empty. “Hummm Hmmm. . .”
“What are you thinking?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Father Turner cleared his throat. “Is there something that you’d like to share with the class, Vicky?”
Her eyes grew wide, and she flushed a deep red at being singled out.
Swallowing hard, she glanced around the room. “N . . . no . . . Father Turner . . . sorry.”
He cleared his throat again. “It’s nice to see you came dressed appropriately for class today.”
She slumped down in her chair. “Yes, sir,” she replied in a small voice.
It will be okay. She frowned in confusion, whipping her head around to look at Luke. He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. I forgot to tell you that I could do that.
“Vicky, turn back around and face the front,” Father Turner commanded harshly.
She cringed, slowly turning. Sorry. She heard Luke again and she rolled her eyes.
“I’m sorry if facing the front is such an inconvenience, Miss Phillips.”
She shifted uneasy in her chair. “I’m sorry?”
“‘I’m sorry’ isn’t a question. Either you are or you aren’t sorry.”
She shook her head frantically. “No, Father Turner, I didn’t understand your statement about it being an inconvenience.” He gave her a stern look, and she swallowed hard. “It’s no inconvenience at all.”
“See me after class.”
Her heart sank. “Yes, sir.”
I’m sorry, Vicky. Luke intruded in her thoughts again. She closed her eyes, nodding once to acknowledge his apology. “I’ll wait for you after class. ”
Propping her elbow on the desk, she rested her chin on her open palm letting out a long slow breath. Oh, Luke, why couldn’t you have told me you could do that before class?
Because the subject never came up.
She sat up straight in the desk. Wait a minute. You can hear me?
Yes.
Hey, this could come in handy. How far away can you do this?
You’re the first one that I’ve been able to do this with other than my family. I don’t know, maybe five miles or so.
So, I can just call out to you, and you’ll hear me.
Yeah, I guess so.
This could be bad, too. Can you turn it off?
I don’t think I can. Once I’ve tuned in, I can’t tune out. It’s complicated.
You better not hold anything I think against me. I don’t know if I can control my thoughts.
She could hear him laugh at her. You better pay attention before you get into more trouble with Father Turner.
Tell me about it.
The classroom door opened and Sara walked through the door with a tardy slip in her hand. She tossed her silky blond hair over her shoulder. “I’m sorry that I’m late, Father Turner. I had a flat tire.”
Father Turner accepted the paper, inspecting it. “Take your seat, Sara.”
She smiled at the other students in the class until she locked eyes with Vicky. The smile dropped, all color leaving her face.
Vicky glared back. She’s surprised to see me. She sent the thought to Luke.
It does seem like that, doesn’t it?
Wait a minute. That doesn’t prove anything
What do you mean? Why not?
I haven’t seen Sara since the confrontation in the girl’s bathroom yesterday. I scared her pretty bad. She may still be reacting to that.
You really aren’t like Sara. She would have acted first and thought about it later, if at all.
Tell that to your cousin Chuck.
I plan to tell him. I may just have to knock some sense into him.
No, Luke. He’s entitled to his own opinion.
Maybe so, but he doesn’t have to be so rude about it.
You’re sweet, but please don’t resort to violence. I don’t see how that will help my cause any.
I see your point.
“Luke!”
He jerked his head up, locking eyes with Father Turner. “Uh . . . sir?”
Uh oh .
Father Turner crossed his arms over his chest and glared. “See me after class
“Yes, sir.” It seems like we’re both in trouble.
I’m sorry.
“Don’t be sorry. We’ll go to confession together. ”
Chapter Six
Vicky and Luke followed Father Turner down the hall toward the small chapel, and ultimately the confessional.
“We need to be careful with this new talent of yours,” Vicky whispered. “We can’t keep getting in trouble every day.”
“I don’t know. I don’t mind getting into trouble with you,” he teased softly.
“I don’t like it. Eventually they’ll call my dad, and that can’t be good. I never misbehaved in Fort Lauderdale, and he’ll think you’re a bad influence on me. I don’t need to give him an excuse to decide we can’t date.” She shrugged her shoulders in frustration. “Besides, I’m not even Catholic. I don’t understand how sitting in a little black cabinet and reciting a few short prayers is going to correct any discipline problems they think I might have.”
Luke shrugged. “That’s just the way it’s always been done here.”
Father Turner ushered them inside the small chapel.
She glanced over at the confessional, and her eyes rounded. “Luke, I’m nervous.
I don’t know the prayers.”
Father Turner turned, glaring at her. She shrank back, stepping closer to Luke.
Help.
I’ll walk you through it, piece of cake. ” Luke’s mental voice soothed her mind.
Farther Turner pointed toward the confessional. “Father Thomas is waiting for you in the confessional, Vicky.” He turned to Luke. “Have a seat on the bench to wait your turn.”
Vicky shot Luke a pitiful look over her shoulder as she stepped inside the booth.
And Father Turner shut the door behind her. She sat down, scanning around the small, dark chamber. She was terrified and trembling uncontrollably. The small panel between the booths snapped open, and she jumped.
Father Thomas spoke softly, “May the Lord be in our hearts to help you make a good confession.”
Ugh, Luke, what am I supposed to say?
Luke chuckled softly. Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been about…say how long since your last confession. These are my sins. Then you just tell him what your sins are.
“Uh . . . Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. I’m not Catholic, so I’ve, uh, never been to confession before. These are my sins. Um . . . I unintentionally disrespected Father Turner in class today.”
“I see. I want you to recite The Hail Mary.”
Help.
I’ll tell you slowly, in two parts, repeat after me. Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. ”
She nodded, swallowing hard. “Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.”
That was good. Here’s the rest. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.
She repeated what he said.
Good.
“Now, my child, I want you to say the Act of Contrition.”
What in the heck is that?
It’s where you pray to God for forgiveness. Listen closely. O my God, I am sorry for my sins because I have offended you. I know I should love you above all things. Help me to do penance, to do better, and to avoid anything that might lead me to sin. Amen.
She nodded, taking a quivering breath and repeated what he said.
“Very good. ”
“Your sins ar
e forgiven; go in peace.”
Vicky stood up to leave. Thank him first! Luke projected urgently.
She caught her breath. “Th-thank you, Father.”
Her knees felt rubbery as she stepped out of the confessional. She hobbled over to the pew, sitting down next to Luke. Leaning forward, she placed her face in her hands. Thanks for helping me get through that
Luke smiled. “You’re welcome. My turn. I’ll see ya in a minute. ”
Luke took a little longer. Father Thomas gave him a lengthy lecture along with the prayers, due to his frequency in the confessional. He stepped out of the confessional and she stood up.
Father Turner cleared his throat. “Now, you both need to go to your next class.
You’re already late. Don’t tarry in the hallway.”
Vicky threw her bag over her shoulder. “Yes, sir.”
They walked out of the chapel side by side. Luke stopped at the corner, turning to face her. “My class is in the opposite direction from yours. We’re still on for lunch, right?”
“Sure, lunch will be great. I’ll see ya then. Bye.”
He tapped his finger to his temple. “If you need me, just holler.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Chapter Seven
Sister Phoebe’s eyes widened slightly at seeing her in the doorway. “Vicky, you’re late.” she remarked in an icy tone.
She inwardly groaned. “Yes, ma’am. I had to go to confession and see Father Thomas.”
“Indeed. Why is it that that doesn’t surprise me?”
Vicky’s mouth dropped open. “I don’t know Sister Phoebe. I’ll try not to make a habit of it.”
A skeptical eyebrow greeted her protest. “Only time will tell with that one, won’t it?” Sister remarked. “Take your seat. Class has already begun.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She brushed past Sister Phoebe to get to her desk.
In this class too, the other students openly stared at her. She sat, sliding down in her chair, and glanced over at Sara, who had a satisfied smirk on her face, but was carefully avoiding Vicky’s eyes.
Sister Phoebe picked up a piece of chalk, addressing the class, “I’m going to write your classroom assignment on the chalkboard.”
Vicky took out a notebook and pen from her bag, and copied the assignment as Sister Phoebe wrote it. Suddenly, a large, black spider scurried across the top of her desk. Her heart racing frantically, she took in a terrified breath, and jumped, dropping the pen on her desk.
What’s wrong? Luke asked frantically in her head.
There’s a huge spider on my desk.
Vicky glanced at Sara, who stared at the spider, her eyes wide. She looked away, snickering behind her hand.
Well, kill it, Luke’s mental voice was demanding.
She started at Luke’s command, slamming her notebook down on top of the spider and muttering under her breath.
Sister Phoebe turned from the chalkboard, glaring at her. “Is there a problem, Miss Phillips?”
“N-no . . . no, there’s no problem, Sister Phoebe. I was just killing a spider.”
Sister Phoebe gave Vicky an icy glare. “Spiders are God’s creatures, Miss Phillips. Thou shall not kill.” She enunciated each word.
Vicky’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. “But it was just a spider.”
Sister Phoebe raised an eyebrow. “It’s still one of God’s creatures.”
Vicky swallowed hard. “Yes, ma’am.
With a sharp glare, Sister Phoebe returned to the chalkboard and resumed writing. Sara giggled at Vicky’s misery and Sister Phoebe paused in mid-sentence. “Is there a problem, Miss Jenkins?” she demanded without turning back around.
“No, Sister. There’s no problem with me.” Sara snickered again.
Vicky glared at her until the smile left Sara’s face then picked up her pen, to copy the instructions from the chalkboard. This time two black spiders scurried across Vicky’s desk. Her eyes grew wide, her heart slamming in her chest. She dropped the pen again. “Luke! There’s two more! ”
Kill them!
I can’t! Sister Phoebe will make me go see Father Thomas again.
Well, then use your notebook and brush them off of the desk.
Okay. Vicky flowed into action. She used the notebook, flinging the spiders off her desk, to land on Sara’s.
Sara jumped out of her desk. “Hey!” she shouted. “Cut that out!”
Sister Phoebe whirled around to face the class. “Sara Jenkins! Please control yourself, and explain that outburst!”
Sara pointed an accusing finger at Vicky. “Vicky flung two spiders at me!”
Sister Phoebe trained her glare on Vicky again.
Vicky swallowed hard. “You told me I couldn’t kill them,” she said. “I’m afraid of spiders. They had to go!”
Sister Phoebe rolled her eyes, and most of the class sniggered. “Miss Phillips, you will control yourself in this class, or you will be going to see Father Thomas again. Have I made myself clear?”
Vicky bit her bottom lip while Sister Phoebe chewed her out. “Yes, Sister, crystal clear,” she replied in a strong voice, then slouched down at her desk trying to appear less noticeable. Luke, I’m dying in here.
Just try to hang on. Class is almost over.
I just want to get out of here.
It’ll be lunch before you know it.
Not soon enough. She picked up her pen again to write the assignment. This time a spider dropped down from the ceiling, dangling right in front of her face. Her eyes darted frantically around the class, a cold sweat beading her forehead and upper lip.
She caught the startled look on Sara’s face too. She placed the pen on the desk. Luke . . .
What?
There’s another one, and it’s dangling right in front of my face.
What, again?
Uh huh.
Vicky, unless you’re sitting under a nest of spiders, that can’t be a coincidence. Take your notebook and gently bat the spider to the floor.
She did as Luke suggested. Sara didn’t take her eyes off of her as Vicky gently batted the spider to the floor and let out a relieved breath. Okay, it’s on the floor.
Good. Now, check around and see if you see a nest of them somewhere.
Vicky investigated under her desk and up on the ceiling, turning her head to scan the aisles on both sides of her desk. “I don’t see anything.”
It’s witchcraft, Luke growled in her head.
What?
Black magic
But, Sara seems just as afraid of the spiders as I am.
She may be good at hiding it, or there may be a different culprit.
Well, if it’s not Sara, then who can it be?
I don’t know. No one here knows you well enough to be setting you up. Do they?
I’ve never seen anyone at this school in my life, at least that I remember. But someone knew that I was coming. Sara said so yesterday.
You may have to find out from Sara just where she got her information.
You don’t really think that she’s going to volunteer that information, do you?
Probably not.
Great .
Take a look around and see if anyone is giving you any strange looks.
Luke, after this morning, everyone is giving me strange looks.
Then just peek to see if anyone is giving you a smug look. They should be pretty happy with themselves right now, since you’ve been getting into trouble.
Okay, I’ll look. She pressed her lips together into a thin line, turning her head to stare around the class. No one seemed to be paying any attention to her except Sara, and she was paying attention in a worried way. Vicky noted the pen on her desk, staring hard. It seemed like every time she picked up that pen, another spider made an appearance. Luke, you know more about black magic than I do. Can an object be cursed?
Yes, why?
Every time I pick up that pen to write, another spider appears from thin air.
&nb
sp; Where did you get the pen?
I took it out of my bag, why?
Is it yours?
She shrugged. It’s just a generic pen. I have a whole bag of them at home that look just like it.
How many did you bring with you to school today?
Two I always have two in case I lose one, or it runs out of ink.
Don’t be obvious, but check your bag.
Vicky picked up her bag, and shuffling through it, she pulled out two more pens.
I have two more pens in my purse.
Carefully pick the pen up and place it on the floor next to your desk. Be prepared for another spider, just in case. The cleaning people will sweep it up tonight.
Vicky allowed it to roll off the desk, hitting the floor. Sara looked down at the pen on the floor and then back at Vicky. She shrugged, reaching for the object until Vicky placed her hand on her arm to stop her. Sara glared at her hand, yanking her arm back. Vicky shook her head no, motioning with her eyes to the pen on the floor. Three more spiders scurried away from it. Sara’s eyes grew wide.
It was the pen.
Okay, how did it get in your bag?
That’s the million dollar question.
Who have you been close to today?
Well, there was Father Turner, Chuck, and Sara—but she genuinely seems confused by all this. Then, of course, you, and I’m pretty sure you’re not a witch.
Everybody’s suspect until we get to the bottom of this.
Even you?
He chuckled softly. You can hear my thoughts. Do you think I’m a witch?
No, of course not, I would trust you with my life, and I have actually done that.
Has anything happened in the last few minutes?
She glanced at the pen on the floor and then around the room, studying the faces of the other students. No, everything seems normal, for now.
I’ll see you at lunch, then.
Lunch sounds good.
Chapter Eight
Vicky walked into her next class, taking her seat next to Rachael. She smiled brightly. “Hi, how are you today?”
Rachael looked away, shrugging. “I saw you.”
Vicky raised an eyebrow. “You saw me? What did you see?”
Rachael stared at the floor. “Everything.”
