by Katrina Leno
Ruth blinked. Jane didn’t think she would answer. She thought her mother might even get upset enough to leave, storm away, but to Jane’s surprise, she didn’t. To Jane’s surprise, she said, “Yes. It happened on Halloween.”
“And that’s why you don’t like Halloween.”
“That’s why I don’t like Halloween.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. It was a long time ago.”
“And it happened in this house?”
“Yes.”
“And that’s why you never came back here?”
Ruth nodded.
Jane could feel her mother slipping away from her, mentally checking out of the conversation. Jane touched a hand to the cuff of Ruth’s flannel shirt.
“Where did you get this hay, anyway?”
“From the craft store.”
“Well, you look adorable.”
“Thanks. I feel itchy.”
Jane touched up a spot on Ruth’s cheek, then found a hand mirror in the top drawer of the vanity and handed it to her mother.
“Voilà,” she said.
Ruth examined herself in the mirror, nodding appreciatively. “This is pretty good, honey.”
“You’re gonna have fun.”
“I hope so,” Ruth said, even though the expression on her face made it seem like she didn’t much care either way. “When are you heading out?”
“Susie is picking me up around eight.”
“Text me if you need anything. And keep me posted about how late you’ll be, okay?”
“The dance is over at eleven, so I won’t be much later than that. Susie mentioned maybe going to Sam’s after.”
“We used to go to Sam’s after our dances, too,” Ruth replied, smiling, remembering.
“You and your friends?”
“Mmm. After dances, after bowling, after anything.” She laughed. “Emilia hated it.”
“How come?”
“She thought it was improper for a girl to be out so late. But I was your age; I had a car and a job. She couldn’t really say much.”
Jane remembered the stack of papers she’d found in Chester’s desk. Her mother’s suspensions, her countless detentions, a string of terrible behavior Ruth had never once hinted at.
“What did she think was going to happen?” Jane asked carefully.
“What any parent fears will happen, I guess. That the life they have so carefully prepared for their kid will be rejected by them when they’re old enough to make their own decisions about it.”
“And you rejected it?”
“I did. Not on purpose, really. But maybe a little bit.”
“What do you mean?” Jane pressed, trying to keep her voice light, aware of how delicate it was to talk to Ruth about the past, how Ruth could shut down at any moment, how one wrong word from Jane could ruin everything.
“I don’t even know where to start,” Ruth said, shrugging. “Besides, I better finish getting ready.”
“Can we talk about this later?”
“Sure, Jane.” Ruth reached up and rested the palm of her hand on Jane’s cheek. Jane got the impression that when her mother looked at her, she wasn’t really seeing Jane at all. It made Jane feel a little weird, but she didn’t pull away, like she wanted to.
“I love you so much,” Ruth said.
“I love you, too, Mom.”
“Be safe, okay?”
“Always.”
Ruth pecked Jane on the cheek and left her alone in the bathroom.
Jane turned toward the mirror. She felt like she always felt with Ruth—like she came so close to understanding something about her mother, but at the very last moment, it was taken away from her, snatched out of her fingers before she could get a good look at it. Trying to picture her mother at the age Jane was now, going to Sam’s with her friends, was impossible. The only Ruth who Jane knew was the Ruth she’d grown up with: a secretive, quiet mother who’d always been there for her but at the same time had never been fully, completely emotionally available.
There but not fully there.
Always just a tiny bit checked-out.
Always with something sad, something heavy around her eyes. Like a darkness that circled her irises.
It gave Jane the creeps now and admitting that it did only made her feel guilty and strange.
She met her own eyes in the mirror, and for a second she was nine years old, with eyeliner whiskers and a brown sweatshirt and Greer standing behind her, smiling at his handiwork.
“Well, you’re certainly the cutest dog I’ve ever seen,” he said, but then the doorbell rang and he was gone and Jane was seventeen again, and the past was in the past and her father would never do her makeup for Halloween again. Jane blinked and shook her head and went downstairs to get the door, assuming Ruth had locked herself out of the house. But it was Alana and Susie, grinning wildly, already in costume.
“Trick or treat!” they yelled at the same time.
“Oh shit, you just reminded me—we didn’t even get any candy,” Jane said, holding the door open to let them in. “We should have left a bowl out.”
“No offense, Jane, but I don’t think you’re going to get many trick-or-treaters here,” Alana said, so earnestly that Jane couldn’t help laughing.
“Okay, fair,” she replied. “You guys are early.”
“We were bored,” Susie said. “You’re not even in your costume yet?”
“I was helping my mom get ready. You look amazing.”
Alana did a little spin. She wore black leggings, a long-sleeved black shirt, knee-high black boots, and a sparkly cat-ear headband.
“Dang. Sexy cat,” Jane said.
Susie gave a curtsy next, and flashed her teeth. She was wearing an old wedding dress she’d gotten at the thrift store. She’d poured fake blood down the front of it, and glued two vampire teeth over her own canines. She’d drawn a line of fake blood from one corner of her mouth to her chin.
“Very spooky,” Jane assessed.
“You better get moving, Rapunzel,” Alana said. “It’s already seven forty-five.”
“Okay, okay.” Jane hesitated for just a second—it felt weird to have Alana and Susie back in North Manor, after their sleepover. But it wasn’t like she could ask them to wait outside. “You guys want to come upstairs?”
They both nodded, and Jane led them upstairs and into her bedroom. She had her hair extensions laid out carefully on her bed. Susie touched one and said, “Like you need any more hair.”
“This is for length!” Jane replied.
“Hello, your hair already touches your butt,” Alana pointed out.
“But Rapunzel’s hair drags on the floor,” Jane countered. “So this won’t quite make it, but at least it will be long enough to put into a braid and swoop over my shoulder.”
She grabbed the hair extensions and went into her bathroom. She changed into her dress first, then she carefully clipped the hair extensions in. She put them pretty low, attaching them to sections of her own hair with invisible elastics. When they were all in place, she started on a chunky French braid that incorporated all the pieces and made them look like they were actually part of her own hair.
She stuck little stems of baby’s breath into the braid, then admired the finished product. It was pretty impressive, she had to admit. She looked almost exactly like the animated movie version of Rapunzel.
She came out of the bathroom and twirled around dramatically for Susie and Alana, who were sitting on the bed.
Susie whistled, and Alana said, “Damn, girl. You look hot.”
“Thank you, thank you.”
“All right, let’s go,” Susie said.
Jane turned out lights as they made their way downstairs, then locked the front door behind them. She couldn’t help looking back at the house as she slid into Susie’s car, but North Manor was dark and quiet behind her.
Susie backed out of the driveway and they were on their way. In the back seat, Alana pull
ed out a little silver flask. When she opened it, the entire car was filled with the scent of cinnamon. She took a swig and handed it to Jane, who sniffed it.
“What is this?”
“Goldschläger!”
“Gold what?” Jane replied.
“It’s cinnamon schnapps! It has real gold in it!” Alana gushed.
“You want me to drink gold?” Jane asked.
“Where did you even get that?” Susie added.
“In the very back of my parents’ liquor cabinet. I don’t think they’ve touched it in years. The bottle was covered in dust.”
“They haven’t touched it in years because people aren’t supposed to drink gold, maybe,” Jane insisted.
“Just try it. It’s really good.”
Jane took a hesitant sip. “Oh wow. This is really good.” She felt the warmth spread instantly down her chest. It was really good.
“You’re lucky I don’t like cinnamon, or I’d feel very left out right now,” Susie said.
“Thank you for being our DD, Susie,” Alana said.
“Thank you, Susie,” Jane echoed.
“You’re welcome,” Susie replied.
The school looked different in the dark; Jane had never seen it after three o’clock before. The brick façade was imposing in the moonlight, and someone had replaced the light bulbs over the front door with black lights. Everyone who walked underneath them was washed in a spooky, dark glow.
“Look at my teeth,” Susie said gleefully, baring her fangs, which were currently glowing. “Do they look cool?”
“Very cool,” Alana said. “Say cheese.” She pulled out her phone and snapped a picture.
They walked into the entranceway and up to a folding table that had been placed outside the doors to the gym. Rosemary, the receptionist who had greeted Jane on her first day, was taking tickets. She was dressed like a clown, complete with an orange, curly wig and a red nose.
“Hi, girls! Don’t you look amazing?!” she exclaimed.
They handed over their tickets and she stamped the backs of their hands.
“Thanks, Rosemary!” Alana said. “Lovin’ the nose.”
Rosemary beamed and waved them all through the doors and into the gym—
Which had been completely transformed.
“Holy crap,” Susie whispered.
It looked amazing. The bleachers had been pushed back and were completely covered by enormous trees strung with orange fairy lights. Bats and spiders had been attached to the branches, and cobwebs stretched from treetop to treetop. They had hung a disco ball from the ceiling and all the lights were low, plus some of the bulbs had been replaced with black lights here, too, giving the whole gym a slightly glowing, surreal feeling. An enormous banner hung from the ceiling: WELCOME TO THE HAUNTED FOREST.
It was really impressive.
The gym was already crowded with people dancing to the music. Someone had built a small raised platform at the far corner of the room, and there was a DJ standing there in front of an elaborate computer setup. She was dressed like a unicorn with an enormous, lit-up sparkly horn.
“Check her out,” Susie said, pointing.
“I’m in love,” Alana replied.
“This is really cool,” Jane said.
They took a slow lap through the gym, making their way around the outer edge of the room, taking everything in. There were two long tables of refreshments in front of a section of bleachers, and Jane grabbed a mini Twix bar from an enormous cauldron filled with candy. She unwrapped it as they walked and shared half with Susie, who was making grabby hands.
The closer they got to the DJ platform, the more crowded the dance floor became. There was hardly space to move toward the center, so they stayed on the outside, just observing. Alana pulled out the flask again after surreptitiously checking for chaperones, and she and Jane each had a sip. There was hardly enough in there to get any of them really buzzed, Jane thought, but then Alana reached down her shirt and pulled out a tiny bottle of vodka.
“Did you have that in your bra?” Susie asked, impressed.
“One on each side,” Alana confirmed. “It has to be even, you know.”
She twisted off the top of the bottle and had a swig, then handed it to Jane. Jane took a tiny sip and felt it go right to her head. She really didn’t drink that much, aside from an occasional half glass of wine at dinner, and the schnapps and vodka had combined efforts to make her feel a little light-headed and tingly. In a nice way. She finished the bottle.
“All right, girl, get it,” Alana said appreciatively.
“Let’s find pizza,” Susie said. “There’s supposed to be pizza somewhere.”
“Let’s dance,” Alana argued.
“Let’s get pizza, then dance,” Jane offered.
That was agreeable to everyone, so they pushed back out of the throng of dancers and found the pizza table. They made themselves plates and took them over to a corner of the gym that had been set up with café tables and chairs. They found an empty table and crowded around it.
Jane felt good: The pizza was amazing, the music was loud, the energy in the room was high. She bobbed her head to the music as she ate, and when they were done, they cleaned their table and made their way back onto the dance floor.
Dances at her old school had been nothing like this. She’d gone to junior prom with a boy she’d been sort of dating at the time, and it was held in the ballroom of a fancy hotel. They’d rented a limousine and exchanged corsages and boutonnieres and had a stuffy dinner and danced to music just slightly out of date. The whole thing had felt a bit like kids playing at being adults, and she couldn’t really say that she had fun. At least, nothing like the fun that everybody was clearly having here. There were no slow songs, just music you could dance to, and kids were huddled in big groups, jumping up and down to the beat.
Her own group wasted no time in getting into the swing of things. Susie was an amazing dancer, and for a second Jane just watched her, transfixed as she swung her hips around in perfect time to the music. Alana, on the other hand, was laughably bad, but knew it, and played up her two left feet by dancing wildly and without reservation. Jane was somewhere in the middle, not horrible but not great, and she found after a few minutes that she didn’t even care what she looked like, she just cared that she was with friends and having fun and not at home in the creep house.
They danced for at least an hour—until Jane was hot and thirsty and the line of blood at Susie’s mouth had smudged and they had all laughed so much their throats ached.
“Let’s get some water, I’m dying,” Alana said finally, and the three of them made their way off the dance floor to the refreshment tables, where Jane poured herself a cup of water from an enormous cooler, and they all stood around breathing heavily and drinking.
Jane pulled out her phone and sent Ruth a text that said, At the dance! So much fun, hope your party is great! Then she saw that she had a message from Will, so she clicked over to read it.
I just finished the book. I don’t know how to say this, but I just have to ask… do you not know?
Jane stared at the text for a moment, reading it over again to see if she’d missed something. She wrote back: Do I not know what?
The little speech bubble that indicated Will was typing a response popped up, then disappeared, then popped up, then disappeared, like he kept deleting whatever he was writing. Finally he sent back a simple: Never mind, let’s talk later.
No no, what do you mean?
“I have to pee!” Alana exclaimed suddenly. “What bathrooms are we supposed to use? The locker rooms?”
“Probably,” Susie said. “Come on, we’ll all go.”
Someone grabbed Jane by the forearm and led her across the gym to the bathrooms, where the line to pee was at least ten girls deep.
“I can’t wait this long,” Alana said. “Can we use the ones in the science wing? Are we allowed to leave the gym?”
“Rosemary will let us,” Susie replied, so t
hey made their way back to the entrance, where Rosemary was reading a book in lieu of anything else to do.
“Hey, girls!”
“Rosemary, we have to pee,” Alana said. “It’s an emergency. Can we use the bathrooms by the science wing?”
“Sure, but right there and back, okay? No detours.”
“We promise,” Alana said. She was currently jumping up and down on the balls of her feet.
Rosemary laughed. “Go on, you’re welcome.”
Jane still held her phone in her hand but Will hadn’t texted anything back, hadn’t even typed anything.
What did that mean? Do you not know?
“Jane, come on!” Susie said, tugging Jane’s arm.
Jane let herself be led to the science bathrooms. The noise of the gym died away almost completely as soon as they turned the first corner past the main office. The corridors were dark and a little spooky, and the bathroom light was off. Alana flicked it on, then dashed into the nearest stall.
“Somebody sing something! It’s too quiet to pee!” she demanded.
Susie launched into a pretty good rendition of “Single Ladies” while she stood at the sink reapplying her line of fake blood. Jane stood near the door, staring at her phone.
She sent Will a text that just said: ???
He still didn’t write back.
She put the phone into her purse.
Alana finished peeing and washed her hands while Susie ended her song with an impressive howl. Then Alana seemed to realize Jane hadn’t moved in a solid three minutes, and with a hand full of paper towels she said, “Jane? Are you okay?”
Jane’s brain was whirring a mile a minute. She still felt the warmth and gentle fuzziness of the alcohol swimming around in her stomach.
“A secret de Polichinelle,” she whispered.
“Come again?” Alana said.
“It’s from an Agatha Christie book. It’s a secret that everybody knows,” Jane said, her voice getting louder as she started to realize something.
“What are you talking about?” Susie asked.
“And because everybody knows the secret, nobody talks about it, because everybody just assumes that everybody else knows it, so there’s no reason to ever bring it up,” Jane continued.
