Scary Mary
S.A. Hunter
Smashwords edition
© 2010 S.A. Hunter
ISBN 978-1-4523-7085-9
Visit the author online at www.sahunter.net
Smashwords Edition, License Notes:
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please download an additional copy for each person or direct them to the author’s website for free reading options.
Cover design by S.A. Hunter.
Original photo by Dave Parker. Used in compliance of terms of Creative Commons liscence. Dave Parker retains ownership of original photo. Photo manipulated by S.A. Hunter.
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Chapter 1
Hello, Leave Me Alone
Mary’s steps echoed down the locker-lined hallway. Doors whisked shut as she passed. She caught snippets as the doors closed: Welcome back for a new school year; hope everyone had a nice summer; please turn to page sixty-four. She’d been in one of those classrooms, bored out of her mind and doodling pentagrams onto the cover of her spiral notebook. She wished that she still were.
When she shoved the door to the guidance counselors’ suite of offices, it bounced off the door stop and startled the attendance secretary Mrs. Higgins. Mary marched past the scowling secretary to Mr. Landa’s office. She raised her hand to knock, but it opened before her fist could fall.
Mr. Landa greeted her with an already weary smile. "Welcome back, Mary."
Mary put her fist on her hip. “Who gets called to the guidance office on the first day of freaking school?”
Mr. Landa’s smile didn’t falter as he held the door open for her. She rolled her eyes and ducked by him.
From behind the desk, a disembodied female voice said, “I’m so sorry, Mary. I tried to stop him from summoning you. I hid his pass pad. Made all of his pens leak. I even banged his knees with the desk drawers. I can’t believe he had the office secretary call you over the P.A. system. Whatever happened to student confidentiality?”
As she took a seat, she flashed a smile toward Mrs. Brown, or at least, where she thought Mrs. Brown was judging from where her voice emanated. Mary couldn’t tell exactly because she couldn’t see her. Mrs. Brown was a ghost. She haunted Mr. Landa’s desk.
Mr. Landa didn’t know his desk was haunted. He just thought it was a vexing piece of junk. Mrs. Brown had been a school nurse. The desk had been hers when she’d been alive. It wasn’t unusual for schools to reuse furniture. It also meant that it wasn’t unusual for schools to have ghosts.
Once, Mr. Landa turned on the white noise machine by the door and flipped his sign to ‘In Session’, he took his seat. “I called you down here because we need to talk. Ready for the new school year?”
She slouched down into the chair. “No, but ready or not, right?”
Mr. Landa shuffled the papers on his desk. “I hope this year is good for you. What did you do over the summer?”
“The usual. Talked to ghosts. Cavorted with demons. Worked on my tan.”
Her answer made him pause. He took a moment to process it and looked at her. Her skin was pearly white. “Well…I’m glad you had a productive summer. I called you in today because I wanted to touch base with you on a few things.”
She frowned at him. “And you couldn’t wait until after the first day of school?”
He gave her a wry smile. “I did wait. It’s second period. I thought about calling you out of first.”
“He’s not joking.”
Mary slouched down further in her chair. Mr. Landa flipped open her file. “All right, let’s not have a repeat of last year, shall we? First, no beaning boys in the head with soft balls.”
She shrugged. “I can’t help it that he didn’t duck.”
Mrs. Brown tsked. “You broke that boy’s nose.”
“No spiking girls’ milks with Ex-Lax.”
“Did the janitors ever manage to unclog that toilet?”
“No more threatening to shrink freshmen’s heads.”
Mary’s eyes snapped up. “Now come on! You’ve got to leave me something!”
Mr. Landa closed the file. “This is a warning Mary, either shape up, or you’ll be expelled and that would be a terrible shame, seeing how you’ve made it to your junior year. Your grades are good. We know you deserve to be here. Try to work with us.”
“I heard Mr. Landa talking to Principal Hoke. She wants to expel you. He had to promise to keep a very close eye on you.” This was one of the problems with Mrs. Brown haunting Mr. Landa’s desk. Sometimes there was justification for the guidance counselor’s meddling, though Mary would have been happy not knowing it.
“I’ll do my best,” she said, but her voice didn’t hold much promise.
Not all of Mary’s transgressions were strictly her fault. Her bad deeds were not done to innocent victims. She’d broken the football player’s nose with the softball because he’d been ragging on her for the past four days. He’d been asking her if she liked corpses. Did their cold bodies make her hot? Did she drink her own menstrual blood? Disgusting stuff like that. The coaches had heard a lot of it, but they didn’t tell him to quit it. Fact was some of them had snickered at his comments. When she’d seen her chance to shut him up, she’d taken it. He never asked her any more questions. Ditto for the girl and freshmen. They should’ve listened when she told them to shut up.
“Very good. You know people would be a lot nicer to you if you let them.” Mrs. Brown gasped. Even she knew that was a lie.
Mary’s eyes narrowed, and her jaw tightened. “You want ME to be nicer? Nicer to the teachers who ignore everything until I do something? Or the vice principals who always assume I’m the troublemaker? Or maybe you mean my classmates who are all oh so friendly and nice as they sneer and insult me?”
“Mary...” Mrs. Brown warned.
He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Have you ever tried just telling those that upset you to stop? I know it sounds too simple and couldn’t possibly work, but maybe you should try it.”
“Oh, just ask nicely and say please?”
He nodded. “What could it hurt?”
She straightened and dropped her jaw in fake amazement. “Wow! Why didn’t I think of that? I’ll just say please and thank you, and the world will be a better place!”
He peered over his glasses at her. “Tell me, has what you’ve been doing worked any better?”
She crossed her arms and looked away.
“Just try it once and see what happens. If it doesn’t work, you’ll at least know for sure.”
“I have tried being nice. ‘Please don’t call me that. Please give me my teddy bear back. Please don’t push me. Please don’t kick me. Please stop throwing rocks at me.’ They just laughed, and the teachers just watched.”
“And how old were you when all that happened?”
She hunched over and stared at the floor. “I was six.”
“Don’t you think they’ve changed by now?”
“No, they’ve just gotten bigger rocks.”
“Now, I know children didn’t actually throw rocks at you while your teachers watched.”
Her jaw tightened. This was another reason why seeing Mr. Landa was stupid. He rarely believed her when she told him real stuff. “They did.”
“No teacher would stand by and watch a child be abused like that.”
“You’re right. Mrs. Haversham turned away when it began.”
He shook his head. He didn’t believe her.
She clenched her fists to keep herself in check. It wouldn’t do to get emotional. He would only make a note in her file. “It did happen. Just like everything else I’ve ever told you.”--Except for the cavorting with demons, the abduction by little green men, and the Elvis sighting. Mary told Mr. Landa outrageous things because he insisted she tell him something. She’d tried to tell him the truth at first, but like now, he always refused to believe her. She wished she hadn’t tried to tell him something truthful now.
He waved away the disagreement. “It’s long in the past now. We should focus on this school year. Don’t antagonize the other students. Don’t talk back to the teachers. Don’t cause trouble.”
She stared at a spot over his head and gave him a clipped nod. She just wanted to get out of there.
“Okay, we’ll talk more next week. Go and get a pass from Mrs. Higgins. I’ll see you next Wednesday during third period, okay?” He pushed himself to his feet and moved to leave his desk but tripped hard over a side drawer that had slid open. He banged his leg and had to grab the desk to stop himself from belly flopping to the floor. His face went maroon. She knew he was biting his tongue to not curse. Mrs. Brown didn’t like it either that Mr. Landa didn’t believe Mary. Mary stood up with an unrepentant cheery smile.
“Mary, hang in there. High school isn’t forever. It won’t always be like this.” She knew what Mrs. Brown said was right on one level, but she was wrong on another. She would always hear ghosts and that meant she would always be different.
With a vague wave to Mrs. Brown, though Mr. Landa thought it was for him and nodded goodbye while nursing his bruised shin, she exited the office. She weighed the pros and cons of skipping school next Wednesday. If she skipped, no meeting with Mr. Landa. On the con side, she would possibly get written-up for ditching, and Mr. Landa would reschedule and lecture her on skipping school. The pro side still edged out the con side.
Mrs. Higgins was busy with a student. Mary leaned against the wall to wait. She needed a pass if she didn’t want to get into trouble when she returned to second period. From her vantage point, she saw that Mrs. Higgins was showing the male student a map of the school.
Mrs. Higgins’ voice droned like an old automated message. “All even numbered rooms are on the first floor, and all odd numbered rooms are on the second floor. Stairways are here and here. Any room with a letter connected to it is in the gym wing.” Mary crossed her arms and tapped her foot. Mrs. Higgins didn’t even glance at her to acknowledge her presence. She really wished she had some forged hall passes.
As she waited, she scanned the new guy to identify his destined clique. He had on a loose pair of jeans, a pair of scruffy Nikes, and a faded green T-shirt. Surprisingly, the ratty baseball cap required for all teenage boys was absent. He had wavy dark blond hair. The absence of hat, nice hair, and all right looks tipped the scales to Shiny person. Shiny people were the ‘in’ crowd. They were always happy, got the car for their sixteenth birthday, had girlfriends or boyfriends, always got invited to the party, and were the people everyone else wanted to be or date. The exact opposite of Mary.
The guy glanced over his shoulder at Mary to give her a rueful smile. Mary was flustered by being caught staring and dropped her eyes to the floor. When Mary peeked up at the guy through her lashes, his smile had changed to a good-humored grin. Mary’s mouth twitched in response, but she pressed her lips together to keep from smiling back. Mrs. Higgins snapped her fingers to get the guy’s attention back on the map.
Mr. Landa came wandering out of his office with an empty coffee mug dangling from his fingers. He stopped when he saw the new guy, then he looked at Mary. She could see the wheels turning in his head. He was plotting something and that was never good for her. He moved over to stand beside her and waited for Mrs. Higgins to finish with the new guy. She tried to edge away, but he dropped his free hand onto her shoulder to keep her from leaving.
While the secretary wrote the guy a pass, Mr. Landa stepped forward and dragged her with him. “Are you a new student?” he asked. The guy nodded. Mr. Landa let go of Mary to extend his hand for a shake. He pumped the guy’s hand like a used-car salesman. She began edging away again.
“Welcome to Eastern Snyder High, I’m Mr. Landa, one of the guidance counselors. I’m here if you ever need to talk.”
“Hi, I’m Cy. I mean Cyrus Asher, um, new student,” said the guy.
“If you think you’re balanced, he’ll convince you, you’re not,” muttered Mary. The new guy glanced at her in surprise, and then shot her a grin. Mr. Landa heard her too and grabbed her shoulder again to pull her back into the impromptu group.
“I know it’s sort of hard to find your way around a new place. Mary, why don’t you show Cyrus where his class is?”
“Do I have to?”
He chuckled and shook her shoulder. It was a little harder than good-naturedly. “Now Mary, I know you’re eager to get back to class, but surely, you can spare five seconds to show Cyrus to his classroom.”
She wanted to argue, but she had the definite suspicion that Mr. Landa would not let go of her shoulder unless she agreed. In fact, if she refused, he could very well drag her back into his office, so they could talk more.
“Sure, it’s no trouble.”
“Mary, what class are you going to?” asked Mrs. Higgins.
“Mr. James’ chemistry class, room 36.” Out of the corner of her eye, Mary saw the new guy glance over to take a better look at her. She would’ve told him not to bother. He wouldn’t be impressed with what he saw.
Her hair was black and couldn’t decide to be straight or curly so settled on being a black nimbus glob on top of her head. Nothing about her could decide to be one way or the other. Her hazel eyes were constantly changing from green to brown, and her body fluctuated from scrawny to plump every few months.
She was dressed in her first day of school finest: a pair of ragged jeans, Doc Martens, and an old, torn, black T-shirt. Her wardrobe just screamed dysfunctional youth. It wasn’t exactly like she tried to look dysfunctional. It was just stuff from the Gap or Old Navy gave her hives, and she couldn’t afford it.
“Here, Mary.” Mrs. Higgins handed her the hall pass. “Cy’s going to room 18.”
“Thanks.” She pocketed the pass and pulled her book bag onto her shoulder. Cyrus was a strange name for a boy. He was probably named after a rich uncle. She walked out of the office with the guy trailing behind her. Once they were down the hall, she glanced back to see if he were gone. She’d figured he’d ditch her as soon as they were out of the guidance office, but he was still back there. This mildly annoyed her. Didn’t he know that she only said sure to get out of there? She wasn’t a tour guide. She was the most frightening girl in school--that exempted her from showing guys where their rooms were, pep rallies, school dances, and yearbook signings. At her glance, he took a few quick steps to catch up. She slanted her eyes at him. He was NOT about to speak to her. That was another thing she was exempt from: empty, stupid, hall chatter.
He evidently didn’t know of all her many exemptions due to her rarefied status. “Hey,” he said.
She quickened her pace.
He lengthened his steps to keep up. “What year are you?”
“A junior,” she muttered. Room 18 was visible at the end of the hall. She increased her pace.
“I’m a junior too.” She smirked at how breathy his voice had become from their almost jog down the hall.
“Fascinating. This is your stop.” She wheeled around and jerked her thumb at the door.
“Thanks. I guess I’ll see you around?”
“Yeah, sure, whatever.” She was already turning away. Glad that she was rid of the guy.
“Are you this unfriendly to everybody, or is it just my lucky day?”
“Your lucky day. I’m usually scary,” she said as she walked away.
Chapter 2
Classmates
Mary was putting books away in her locker when a freshman came up to her while his buddies hung back in a snickering knot. With smirking confidence, he asked her if she were a witch. He was a fourteen year old pipsqueak with pimples. It pissed her off that even lower classmen thought they could take shots at her. She slammed her locker shut, which made the pipsqueak jump. When she turned around, she gave him a slow up and down look. He began to fidget. “Yeah, you want to join the coven?”
The freshman shook his head. Mary moved closer and whispered, “Well, we meet every Saturday in the graveyard two blocks over if you want to stop by. It’s BYOB though, you know-Bring Your Own Blood.” Horrified, the freshman began backing away. Mary followed him.
“Cow’s blood will do, but we prefer human. You know because it’s stronger. Cows are just dumb beasts, chewing their cud and making milk, but humans, especially virgins, have so much more in their blood. All their thoughts and desires spice it. Virgins are the best because they have all that pent up frustration and need added in.” Mary narrowed her eyes. “Yes, virgins have the best blood. Are you a virgin?” The guy’s eyes about popped out of his head. He stammered a no and fled. His friends called out after him, but he kept going. A small wicked smile crossed her face as she hoisted her book bag and began shoving her way through the hall to her fifth period class. Mr. Landa should be pleased; she hadn’t threatened to shrink the idiot’s head.
She got to fifth period American History just as the bell rang. When she made her way to a seat in the far corner, a group of guys shivered and went “Oooohhhhh” in a fake scared manner. She rolled her eyes.
Mr. Holt came in and told everyone to settle down. He introduced himself and the class. A student got up and began collecting his things. Mary already knew why.
“What’s up?” one of his buddies asked him.
“Wrong class,” he mumbled.
Another boy heard him. “Wrong class!” he crowed. Everyone laughed the blushing student out of the classroom.
Once everyone settled back down, Mr. Holt took roll. When he reached the end, he asked, “Is there anyone here whom I haven’t called?”
The boy, who’d made fun of the other student, raised his hand. Mr. Holt looked for his name, and then flipped to the next period’s roll. “You’re in here sixth period, son. I suggest you come back then.” Everyone started laughing at him now. Mary closed her eyes in disgust.
These were supposed to be her peers?
When class finally started, Mr. Holt had everyone fill out note cards with their schedules on them. The teachers had them do this in every class. This was their subtle attempt to get the brain-deads to read their schedules. Too bad it was too subtle.
Mary snapped out of her dazed attentiveness with the bell. Finally, last class, and it was English. Mary liked English, but she seemed to be in an alarming minority. She knew she would have to put up with even more groaning and whining.
She had just settled into a seat in the back when the bell rang. As Mrs. Myers was closing the door, a foot jammed it. She opened the door to allow the student to slip in, and Mary found herself again staring at Cy.
“Sorry for being late. I’m new and still learning the layout,” he said a little breathlessly.
“All right, you get a pass, and welcome to Eastern Snyder. Now take a seat,” Mrs. Myers told him. He smiled and thanked her. He scanned the class, and his eyes lit up when he saw Mary. He started back toward her.
Vicky Butler, otherwise known as Hicky, shot up from her seat on the other side of the room and waved to him. “Cy, come sit by me.”
He smiled at Vicky but shook his head. He continued making his way back toward Mary. Mary’s eyes widened. She couldn’t believe that he was choosing her over the cheerleader. Vicky was the most popular girl in their grade. She threw the best parties, knew all the right people, wore the best clothes, had a brand new Mercedes, and as her nickname suggested, wasn’t afraid to ‘show’ her love. She was the reigning queen of the Shiny people, and she was a cruel queen. All the juiciest rumors were born on her lips. She ruled the school’s upper crust with an iron fist, which she wasn’t afraid to sock someone with if they displeased her. Mary hated her with all of her dysfunctional being, but she also accepted the fact that Vicky was queen. No one would deny her anything, except Cy it would seem.
Mary could only stare as he sat down beside her. The entire class had fallen into a stunned silence at Cy’s choice. Vicky’s mouth actually gaped.
Taking advantage of the unexpected hush, Mrs. Myers began class. She handed out note cards and gave the instructions everyone had heard all day. They were to fill them out with their names, schedules, extracurricular activities, and anything else that was of interest. Cy leaned over. “Hey, do you have a pen I could borrow?”
Mary dug into her bag and pulled one out. “Thanks,” he said. He sneaked a peek at her note card. Her information barely filled two lines. “Kind of bare isn’t it?”
“I like being mysterious.”
He chuckled and began filling out his note card. Mary tried to steal a glance at it, but couldn’t read a thing. His handwriting was really small, like teeny tiny. She wondered if he used a magnifying glass to study. Some snickering from the front drew her attention. Vicky and her gaggle were whispering to each other and were glancing back at them. Mary’s face became rigid.
“Seems we’re drawing some attention,” Cy said. He hadn’t looked up from his microscopic writing. Maybe he had freakishly good eyesight?
Mary slid down in her chair to be less visible. “I wouldn’t say ‘we’. Normally, they don’t spare me a second glance.”
“You’re lucky. I had the misfortune of chatting with Miss Butler during lunch and had to vacate. I could feel my IQ dropping from osmosis.” The comment earned a smile from her. He grinned back.
“Do you have a question, Cy?” Mrs. Myers asked, peering at the two of them in the back. Mary was caught off-guard by the sudden attention, and quickly tried to hide her guilt by bending down as if to pick up something.
“Um, no, Mrs. Myers,” he said. He glanced down with a glare at Mary. She bit the inside of her cheeks to hold back her grinning.
As she straightened back up in her seat, he whispered out the corner of his mouth, “It’s the first day of school, and you’re already getting me into trouble.”
“That’s what you get for sitting by me,” she whispered back.
“I’ll remember that next time,” he mock-grumbled.
When the last bell rang, Vicky came straight over to talk to Cy. She sidled up to him and slipped her arm into his. “Cy, I’m really annoyed with you for not sitting with me.”
Cy smiled but smoothly slipped her arm off his by pulling his backpack up onto that shoulder. He also took a step back from her. “Don’t be, Vicky. I just prefer sitting in the back. I don’t like the idea of other people behind me that I can’t see. It ruins my concentration.” Vicky stepped back, sensing the physical rebuff but then began to smile.
“Oh, so you were looking at me?” She began twirling her hair around her finger. Mary fled. The situation was getting way too much like Beverly Hills whatever the zip code for her taste, and she would rather destroy her television than watch that drivel. Cy looked like he wanted to leave with her, but he was trapped by Vicky. Mary felt bad for ditching him, but when Vicky was involved, it was every reject for herself.
Chapter 3
After School Activities
“So, describe this guy to me again?”
Mary groaned and flopped onto her back on the bench. Why had she mentioned Cy?
From school, Mary had come straight to the park to meet up with Rachel Pillar, her best friend. Rachel always skipped the first day of school. She said it started the year off on the right foot, but even though she disdained from going to the first day of classes, she still wanted to know what everyone had worn, how people had changed, and if anyone had gotten any interesting piercings or tattoos. Mary had made the mistake of mentioning Cy.
“He looked normal, but not overly preppie,” she said. Mary knew that she should never have mentioned him to Rachel. She may have been her best friend, but Rachel could get annoyingly obsessed over the smallest little things, and her full attention was now on Cy, and Mary didn’t feel right picking him apart to the atomic level.
Rachel sat planted on the ground, dissecting dandelions while Mary lounged on her back watching clouds. At the other end of the park, young mothers watched their children play on the jungle gym.
Rachel decided to give the topic a rest for a while and asked, “Did Landa call you in today?”
Mary rolled her eyes and nodded. “Uh huh, he gave me this spiel about how he was hurt that I didn’t talk to him over the summer.”
“Now that man seriously needs to get a life,” Rachel said. She threw her ravaged flower to the ground.
Mary sighed. “Tell me about it.”
“So what’d you tell him?” her friend asked with a knowing smile.
“The usual. I drank pig’s blood and partied with bikers.”
"I bet he was jealous.”
“Yeah, but I’m getting tired of that shtick. I need to come up with some new material.”
“How about you become a Bible beater? You could rave that everyone is going to burn in the fires of Hell, the four horsemen have been sighted, and Armageddon is upon us!” Rachel’s voice had slowly risen with every word until she sounded like she was raving. Several of the young mothers looked across the park at the two girls.
Mary smiled at her. “Maybe I should start sending you in for me. You’re more inventive.”
“Nah, you’re more believable.” She threw another dissected dandelion away. Her fingers had turned green from her dissecting. Mary doubted that Rachel wouldn’t be any less ‘believable’. She’d made dysfunctional into an art form. Her hair was a new color every week. Her ears were pierced a combined total of eleven times plus her right nostril. She was an avid shopper of the Good Will. If there were a psychedelic, mushroom-patterned, polyester dress, Rachel would be wearing it proudly the next day, but her father was a well-to-do lawyer, and no one wanted to earn his wrath by suggesting his daughter was unbalanced, which she was—but just a little. That’s why Mary liked her.
“Back to Cy. Was he cute?” Rachel bounced up and down, fixated once again.
Mary squirmed. “Haven’t we worn this subject out?”
“No. You said he seemed normal, and he didn’t like Hicky, which means he’s very smart, but you didn’t really tell me anything about his looks.”
“Um.” Mary was getting a little embarrassed. Why did his looks matter? “He was, I guess, kind of cute...”
“Really?” Rachel said becoming more interested.
“Let’s talk about something else.”
“Do you think he’s really cute?”
She shrugged her shoulders to mask her sudden unease. “I wouldn’t go that far. He’s not Quasimodo, but he’s no one to pursue like the Holy Grail either. Anyway, Vicky has set her sights on him.”
“Oh, Vic-ky.” Rachel’s head cocked sharply so that her hair bounced like a valley girl. “You give me the word, Mary, and I’ll set my sights on her. I wonder what she would look like bald. If we’re lucky, she’ll have an ugly birthmark, like that guy—Gorbachev. She’d be known as Gorbie for the rest of the year. We have to think of a song now to make fun of her with! What rhymes with Gorbie?”
Mary shook her head. She wasn’t about to encourage this plan for a second because that’s all it took for Rachel to rush to the drugstore buy whatever hair removal was on sale, swap out Vicky’s shampoo, write a song to ridicule her with, and for Mary to land in ISS for three days. “Why do anything to Vicky when old age will do all that for us?”
“Oh, let time do all the dirty work. The perfect slacker revenge.” She began to pull apart another dandelion. “But I still think we should ask your grandma to throw a voodoo curse on the Vickster. Think of all the fun we could have with one of those voodoo dolls. We could stick pins in it, twist its limbs in ways God never intended, set it on fire, flush it down the good old commode, pour hot wax--” Mary put her hand over Rachel’s mouth to cut her off. If she didn’t, she may very well not get a word in until Rachel passed out from lack of oxygen and then what she had to say wouldn’t matter, seeing as how Rachel would be unconscious.
In a slow, clear voice, Mary reminded her, “Gran doesn’t do voodoo. She’s a good witch.” Remembering the time, Mary dropped her hand and looked at her watch.
"Speaking of, I’ve got to go. She’s probably fixing dinner, and I should set the table.”
Rachel jumped up and began vigorously brushing herself off with a pout on her lips. “I knew it! You won’t let me Nair bomb Vicky, you won’t show me how to make voodoo dolls, and you always remember to do your chores! You’re not really an outcast, loner, anti-establishment teenager at all. You’re really a secret agent, sent by my father to instill a good influence on me, aren’t you?”
Mary solemnly nodded. “Yes, you’ve found me out. Under this latex, I’m actually a 35 year-old man from Nova Scotia whose interests include polka music, macramé, and professional dog racing.”
Rachel tilted her head and winked. “Really, do you have a girlfriend?”
~~ ~~ ~~
Mary lived with her maternal grandmother. Her parents had died in a car crash when she was three. Mary’s grandmother was her only living relative. She and Gran hadn’t had an easy life. Gran was a fortuneteller by trade, but trade hadn’t always been forthcoming. Mary could remember some months being very tight. They’d never gone hungry, but theirs wasn’t a name brand lifestyle. None of this had mattered too much to Mary. She loved her grandmother and considered her the center of her world. She’d do anything for her. Plus the fact that she shuffled Tarot cards, read palms, and made charms had made her the coolest grandmother in the world.
They lived in a two story house. Gran and Grandpa had bought it in their twenties. It wasn’t glamorous, and it may have a few drafts and a touchy heater, but it was the only home Mary had ever known, and she loved it. She let herself in through the front door and called out, “Gran, I’m home!”
Nobody answered her. She set her book bag down in the living room and walked to the back of the house. The curtain to Gran’s ‘office’ was drawn. Mary stared at the length of cloth in puzzlement because she didn’t recall a client being scheduled for that hour. As she pondered the curtain, goose bumps erupted up her arms as a cold prickle ran down her spine. There was an otherworldly presence in the next room. Spirits often manifested like alien air currents like the one Mary felt now, and Gran was channeling it. Mary inched forward to listen in, but all she caught were a couple of indistinct voices before the alien air current shifted and enveloped her in its presence.
“Arf! Arf!”
“What the--?” she stumbled back and fell down with a thud. The voices behind the curtain stopped.
A hand swept the curtain back, and Mary looked up at her wild-haired grandmother. She always teased it up for the clients. She had on her Gypsy clothes as well. They weren’t Gypsies, nor were the clothes a part of Gypsy culture, but the clients preferred she wore a long, patchwork skirt and ruffled blouse rather than a floral embroidered track suit. They wanted her to look ‘authentic’. Gran was willing to wear a rubber nose and tutu if they paid her fees without grumbling.
“Mary! You’re home!” Gran’s face cracked into a huge welcoming smile. She leaned down and helped her up off the floor. Mary was about to ask Gran what she’d been channeling when she saw the client over her shoulder. Her mouth snapped shut, and her eyes widened.
A chubby woman with short, curly, brown hair and wearing small round glasses peeked out from behind the curtain. She clutched under her arm a small, stuffed, black dog, not the plush toy kind but the taxidermy kind. Mary stared with incredulous eyes. It had been a Scottish Terrier when alive, now it was a furry paperweight with his mouth permanently open in a happy pant, and his tail raised in a frozen wag. It was beyond creepy. Mary slowly turned to Gran for an explanation.
Gran performed the introductions. “Mary, I’d like for you to meet Mrs. Polk. She’s here to contact her deceased pet Chowder. Mrs. Polk, this is my granddaughter Mary.”
“How do you do.” Mrs. Polk hefted the dog higher under her arm to extend her hand.
Ignoring the outstretched hand, Mary turned to her grandmother. She pointed at the dog under Mrs. Polk’s arm. “Chowder?”
There was another bark.
Mary jumped and looked down at her feet, though there was nothing there to see.
“He’s here, isn’t he?” Mrs. Polk gushed, patting the head of the little dog.
“You could say that,” Mary replied. The canine ghost jumped up on one of Mary’s shins with small invisible paws, wanting the teenager’s attention. “Get away from me, mutt,” she muttered, shaking her foot.
“Chowder? Are you here, boy?” Mrs. Polk called, staring at the ceiling. The little invisible presence stayed at Mary’s feet, totally ignoring the voice of his mistress. Mary grimaced at the floor. She wasn’t a fan of living dogs, let alone dead ones.
Gran could see her discomfort. She moved to Mrs. Polk’s side and took her arm. “No, I believe he’s gone now, Mrs. Polk.”
“But he was here. I could almost feel him,” she said as she squeezed the stuffed dog. Gran nodded and patted Mrs. Polk’s arm. “Yes, he was here, and his spirit is strong. I’m sure that at our next session, we’ll be able to contact him again.”
“Oh, I can’t wait. I so miss my little Chowder.” Mrs. Polk kissed the dog’s head. Mary had to swallow hard to keep herself from gagging at the sight. Chowder began to whine and jump at Mary’s feet again.
“Heel,” she whispered at the small ghost at her feet.
“What?” Mrs. Polk asked.
“Nothing,” Mary quickly lied.
Gran gently pulled Mrs. Polk’s arm. “Let me show you out.” They disappeared behind the curtain. Gran’s office had its own outside entrance. Chowder whined one last time at her feet but reluctantly followed his body out of the house.
Mary was in the kitchen chopping vegetables while a pot of water boiled on the stove when Gran came back in. She sat down in a kitchen chair with a heavy sigh.
Mary’s lips twitched. “You were channeling a dog.”
“I wouldn’t say channeling, more like taking out for a walk,” she said as she walked her fingers walk the table.
Mary snickered. “Did you know she’d actually bring ‘Chowder’?”
“I did tell her to bring a few of his things,” Gran trailed off as she began to chuckle.
Mary’s body shook as she tried to hold in the laughter. “I guess his body is a thing, and it was his.”
“If you could’ve seen your face when Mrs. Polk came out.”
“I know, and could you feel him dancing at my feet? It was all I could do not to kick the air.”
“He didn’t become a distinct presence till you arrived,” she commented.
That sobered Mary up fast. “Yeah, I guess that’s how it goes.”
Gran got up and hugged her from the back. “Oh Mary, I honestly didn’t think you’d be home before I was done with Mrs. Polk.”
“You know I don’t like you channeling. Why can’t you just do fortunes?” It was an old argument that didn’t hold any real fire anymore, but she still couldn’t help expressing her anxiety.
Gran sighed. “We’ve had this discussion. Fortunetelling isn’t as popular as it once was. I have to do this to pay the bills.”
Mary’s head drooped. No, fortunetelling didn’t pay the bills, but it was several degrees safer. “I guess I don’t have to worry too much if Chowder is the worst you get. Just be careful. I don’t want to come home and find you doing a Linda Blair.”
Gran squeezed her shoulders. “Don’t worry about your old grandma. I’ve been doing this a long time, and I have yet to run across a spirit I couldn’t handle.”
“I know.”
Changing the subject, her grandmother asked, “How was your first day of school?”
“How do you think?” Mary chopped the potatoes harder.
“Maybe this year will be different. I have a feeling,” the old woman said as she combed her hair with her fingers.
“Or maybe you need some Alka Seltzer.”
Chapter 4
New Friend?
Mary stood at her locker, sorting through her textbooks. It was TAB, ‘Take-A-Break’, a fifteen-minute break between first and second period. Students milled around the halls, not having to be anywhere. Rachel had disappeared at the beginning of TAB. She’d made Mary swear to alibi her if anyone asked. Mary prayed that her best friend wasn’t spiking Vicky’s shampoo with hair remover. Not because she didn’t want Vicky to lose all of her hair, but because Mary knew that somehow she would end up with the ISS.
"Hey there, deserter.”
Startled, Mary fumbled her book, and it clattered to the bottom of the locker.
She turned to look at Cy. He flashed a smile at her and leaned on the locker next to hers. Mary’s mind whirled as she took in the fact that he was there, talking to her, and seemed happy to see her. Her brain was having difficulty believing all of this, but she was kind of happy to see him too. Then she analyzed what he’d said. It didn’t make much sense. "What?”
He crossed his arms and stared back at her. “You know yesterday, after English, when Vicky came up and began trying to talk to me. Emphasis on the try. You left me trapped with her. Whatever happened to leave no man behind?”
Mary ducked her head. She did feel a little guilty for ditching him now. “I thought you might want to talk to her.” She ran her hand over the stack of books in the locker as she tried to remember what class she had next. She’d known a moment ago.
“Really? I think if given the choice I’d rather have a root canal without the anesthesia.”
She smirked at that. Cy had figured out how to get quickly into her good graces: Bash Vicky. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and saw him grin at her again. He had a nice smile. She liked that he smiled at her, but she was worried about how much she liked it. She fixed her eyes back on her locker. From the bottom, she pulled her Latin book out. She scrunched her brow. She had Latin next, right? She did take Latin, didn’t she? If she didn’t, what was she doing with this book? Was this what happened to her classmates?
“So how’d you get away?” she asked.
“I told her I had to fill out some paperwork because I’m a new student, and it would take like an hour before I was done, and not even she is that tenacious, so she left. I tried to find you, but you’d vanished.”
“But why?”
"Why what?”
“Why’d you want to catch up with me?”
“I thought since you were like the first person I’d met here, and we have a class together, and you seemed fun that--”
This had gone on long enough. Mary shoved the Latin book into her bag, not caring if it weren’t her next class. She turned and looked him in the eye. “You are so mistaken.”
“About what?”
“About me being fun.”
“We made each other laugh yesterday.”
“I wasn’t myself,” she muttered.
He laughed at that.
She looked him in the eye. “You really think I’m fun?”
He grinned. “Yeah, I do. May I hang out with you? Is there a formal application process? I have excellent references.”
She averted her eyes. “Thanks, but trust me, you don’t want to be associated with me.” She turned to go to class.
Cy caught her arm. “Hey, I don’t care what Vicky and they say. Don’t worry about them. Do you want to come over to my house this Saturday? We could hang out and watch movies.”
“And miss the welcome back dance?” She pointed at the hot pink flier on the wall.
“You’re going?” he asked in surprise.
“Well, I was in the mood for a lynching, but I guess watching movies could be cool,” she said.
“Great.” He gave her another grin and turned down the hall. Mary turned the opposite way and stopped. Where was her Latin class?
~~ ~~ ~~
At lunch, Mary sat out on the front school lawn, waiting for Rachel to join her. She had her Latin book out and was trying to conjugate a few verbs. She did take Latin, only during third period. Luckily, she’d remembered that right before she went into the classroom.
Two shadows fell across her book.
“Hey Mary, look who I ran into on the way out here,” Rachel said. She looked up and found that the second shadow belonged to Cy. Mary saw it in Rachel’s eyes. If she couldn’t pry the details out of her, Rachel would get the details from the source. She dropped to the ground beside her and started rummaging in her book bag for her lunch, leaving Mary still staring up at Cy.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” Mary said back, but her ‘hey’ didn’t sound casual and friendly like his. Hers sounded like, ‘Hey, don’t do that!’
“Is it all right if I sit with you?” he asked.
"You didn’t ask yesterday,” she said and winced. Jeez, now she sounded tetchy. “I mean it’s okay. You can sit with us if you want. Please.” She almost winced again. From tetchy to needy in less than five seconds, that had to be a record somewhere.
“Thanks.” He smiled and sat down by her.
“So what’s up?” Rachel demanded, taking a voracious bite out of her peanut butter and banana sandwich.
Still nervous about Cy’s presence, Mary was startled by the question. “No-thing,” she stuttered. She ducked her head and occupied herself with her lunch.
For ten minutes, they all ate silently. Rachel was busy doing her best tennis fan impression with her eyes darting back and forth between Cy and Mary. Mary made a face at her when Rachel’s eyes jumped back to Mary for the fifth time. Rachel laughed and almost choked on her sandwich. Cy pounded her back and asked Rachel if she were all right. Mary made no move to help. When Rachel recovered, she said, “Okay, I’ll start. How do you like Eastern Snyder High so far, Cy?”
“It’s all right. This school’s about the same as my old school.”
“So why’d you move here?” Rachel asked in full interview mode.
“My dad’s work. He got promoted, but the promotion also came with an address change.”
“Must’ve sucked to have to get up and move,” she said.
“It seemed that way at the time, but I’m beginning to see the upside.” Mary saw the glance he gave her while he said that and bent her head to hide her blush. Rachel saw it too and grinned.
“So do you have any brothers or sisters?”
He nodded. “Yeah, one older brother.”
“How much older?” Double dates were already dancing in Rachel’s eyes.
"A year, but I wish it were ten, then maybe he’d be living somewhere else.”
Her eyes fell. “Yeah well, like they say, you can’t choose your family. Take me for example. Do you really think that I’d have chosen a legal eagle with a surgically implanted stick up his butt for a father? If I’d had a choice, Jerry Garcia would’ve been first, second would’ve been Bono.”
“I thought you wanted to marry Bono,” Mary said.
“I do, but he could adopt me for the meantime while scientists work on a youth restoring pill, and once that’s discovered, he could take that, and then he could confess his undying love for me.”
Mary grimaced. “Too Woody Allen.”
“That’s because it was Woody Allen. I mean, the man looks like a total pedophile.”
“But the public would judge you and Bono differently?” he asked in a slightly confused tone.
Rachel gave him a shocked look, amazed that he wasn’t on her wavelength. “Totally, everyone judges rock stars on a more liberal level.”
“Ooh.” Cy caught Mary’s eye, and they both started laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” Cy said.
“Tell me,” Rachel demanded and hit Mary’s leg.
Mary turned her head to wipe her watering eyes. She saw something headed their way that squelched her laughter.
Rachel looked over her shoulder to see what had caught her attention. “Uh oh, cheerleader incoming. Everyone prepare for imminent impact.”
“Huh?” Cy turned to look.
“Well, there you are, Cyrus,” Vicky said coming to stand over the trio. She bestowed a flash bulb ready smile upon him.
“What’s up, Vicky?” He asked, looking up at her, but he didn’t return the smile.
“I just wanted to personally invite you to the Welcome Back Dance. I was on the decorating committee. It will be great. I know you’re new, but you are very welcome to come,” she told him, excluding Rachel and Mary.
“Fine.” Cy returned to his lunch.
“Is that a yes?”
“No,” he said, trying to eat his sandwich.
“So what is it?” she asked. She tilted her head to the side like an inquisitive bird trying to understand some strange sound or maybe a bird looking down a hole at the earthworm it wanted to yank up and gobble whole.
“Fine, you’ve invited me. Thanks, but I can’t make it,” he said.
“Oh come on, your brother said that he’s coming. You two can like ride together.”
“I’m glad that he’s going,” he muttered.
“Maybe we can talk about this later.” She turned away to leave. Cy shot her a dark glare.
“Hey Vicky,” Rachel called, “I’m sorry too, but I can’t make it either. I gotta be in Aspen this weekend. You understand, right?”
“So what?” she said. Her voice dripped with disdain.
“Oh, I just want to be a part of the rejection. Buh-bye,” she said giving her the beauty queen parade wave.
Vicky walked away grumbling about outpatients.
Rachel dropped her hand and stared daggers into Vicky’s diminishing back. “Mary, are you sure your grandma doesn’t do voodoo?”
“Yeah, but I got some books,” she replied as she glowered at Vicky’s diminishing back too.
Rachel rubbed her hands together. “I feel a study party coming on.”
“Uh, voodoo?”
Mary jumped. She’d forgotten that Cy was there. He didn’t know about her grandma or her for that matter. Her eyes slid to him. “Uh, my grandma’s a fortuneteller, so I’m sort of into all that new age stuff, you know, because it’s like a family thing.”
He looked like he was absorbing this.
“Freaked out?”
“What? No, it just explains some things.” He took a contemplative bite from his sandwich. She could just imagine what it explained. Who knew what he’d heard about her around school and from Vicky in particular.
~~ ~~ ~~
Mary chewed on her nails as she sat in her usual seat in sixth period. She kept telling herself that she wasn’t nervous. So a boy had asked her over to his house, no big deal. It didn’t matter at all. He was just a guy from school. They would watch movies. There was nothing to get excited about. Anyway, he was probably going to uninvite her after what he’d found out at lunch.
Vicky came in and looked at Mary sitting in the back. Mary dropped her hands to her lap. In a condescendingly sweet tone, Vicky said, “Look everybody, Scary Mary is waiting for her new friend Cy. Isn’t that cute?” Everyone turned to look at Mary either openly or in hidden glances. Mary did not like the attention but ground her teeth and kept her head high. She would not give Vicky the satisfaction of seeing her squirm. Vicky sat down and put her bag in the empty seat next to her to save it for someone. Mary’s shoulders slumped. Vicky was going to try for Cy again.
Cy came in and made his way toward Mary. Vicky leapt up and called to him, “Cy, sit by me today. I need to talk to you.”
He turned to her with a grimace. “Sorry, Vicky, but Mary and I need to talk.”
“You can talk to Mary anytime. I need to talk to you now,” pleaded Vicky.
“Sorry, Vicky,” he said again. Vicky’s face darkened in anger as she sat down in her chair with a huff. Now everyone looked at her openly or in hidden glances, except Mary. Her eyes were glued on Cy. He’d chosen her over the cheerleader again. It was beyond startling.
He sat down beside her and leaned over. “How are you?”
“Fine,” she murmured. She stole a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. He was doing the same. They both smiled.
“So what’d you want to talk about?” she asked.
“I don’t know. How about them Broncos?”
"What sport do they play?”
He smirked. “I forgot that you’re a girl.”
Mary’s back stiffened. “I’m not sure, but I think I’m offended.”
"Sorry. So what do you want to talk about?”
“Why do I have to come up with something? You’re the one who had something to tell me.”
“That was just to get Vicky off my back.”
“So I’m just your handy excuse?”
“No, it’s just that when I look at you, my brain goes blank.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, right.”
He decided to ham it up even more. “But Mary, the radiance of your smile completely undoes me. One little look from you sends me into fits of rapture. My entire universe hinges on your every whim.”
She turned away and scanned the room.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m looking for another place to sit.”
His hand smacked his chest. “You wound me. All I want to do is worship you.”
“Going to build an altar to me and sacrifice small woodland creatures in my name?”
“Uh, sure?”
“Cool. I could get into that.” Cy glanced at her sharply. She grinned back. He shook his head with a chuckle.
"Cy and Mary, could you please turn your attentions to the board, or do I need to separate you two?” Mrs. Myers asked. They’d been talking in low voices while she’d begun class. They both guiltily turned their attention to the blackboard.
~~ ~~ ~~
When the final bell rang, Mary and Cy dashed out of school and stopped on the lawn to catch their breaths. They’d had to bolt out the door to escape Vicky, who’d looked about ready to tackle Cy to speak to him. When he’d caught his breath, he let out a long sigh. “Vicky doesn’t let up, does she?”
“Not on something she wants,” Mary replied.
“I’m flattered, but I could do without the attention.”
“So could I.”
Cy looked like he wanted to ask her what she meant, but Rachel came bouncing up to them. “Hey guys, enough with the long faces. It’s the weekend. Two days of freedom.”
“Freedom for you. You get to flee to Aspen,” Mary said.
“So you’re really going to Aspen?” Cy asked.
“Yep, my dad’s taking me with him to some conference. He thinks that it’ll keep me out of trouble. Oh, but how little he knows. So while you two losers are kicking your heels without any clue about to what to do, I’ll be speeding down the powdery slopes in Colorado.”
“Rub it in why don’t you?” Mary said.
“Hey, I’ll think about you, maybe even bring you back a snow ball."
“Gee, thanks.”
“Mary and I’ll be able to make do without you for two days I think. We’ll rent a few movies like maybe Alive and Touching the Void, and think of you in snowy Aspen,” he said.
"Rent movies?”
“Yeah, Mary’s coming over to watch movies and hang out.”
Rachel turned to Mary with raised eyebrows.
Mary suddenly found her shoes very interesting.
“Yeah, why watch TV at my house when I can do it someplace else?”
“Especially since at home, you can’t share popcorn with anyone,” Rachel said with a sly grin. Cy returned the grin. Mary scowled at both of them. What did they think they were getting at?
Rachel smacked her hands together. “Well, I gotta go home and pack.”
"Have fun,” Mary said.
"Yeah, build a snowman for us,” Cy said.
Rachel waved and headed off, leaving Cy and Mary standing awkwardly together. She remembered that she didn’t have his number or his address and got both from him. He got her info as well. After a few seconds of just staring dumbly at the scrap of paper with his address and number scrawled on it, Mary said to her shoes, “Well, I’ll see you this weekend.”
"Yeah, come over Saturday anytime, and we’ll hang out,” he said.
Then they went their separate ways.
~~ ~~ ~~
Mary was humming a happy tune as she let herself into the house. She’d started doing it on her walk home. If she’d stopped and thought about it, she would have realized that she’d never hummed on the way home. It was usually dark thoughts and imaginings of revenge. But she wasn’t thinking about humming or having foul thoughts about her classmates. She was thinking about Cy. He was so cool. He didn’t make fun of her, he didn’t act like she was a total reject of society, and he wasn’t afraid of her. It was neat. Rachel was the same way, but she was a girl. Mary smiled to herself. A boy liked her.
She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she was caught completely off-guard by the tiny cannonball of frenetic energy that hit her in the legs. She fell in a heap. She lay there for a minute blinking. What’d just happened? Her mind quickly figured it out as something began touching her cheeks. It felt disturbingly like licking. She scrambled to her feet.
“Gran!”
She came out of her office. Mrs. Polk, who was once again toting Chowder, followed her. Gran took one look at Mary and ushered Mrs. Polk back into her office. Mary could hear her telling the woman that she would only be a few moments and giving her a quartz crystal to meditate with while she waited. When she came back out, she was holding back a smile.
“Are you all right?”
“The ghost dog made me fall again. Are you sure he isn’t a malevolent spirit?”
Gran chuckled. “He seems perfectly friendly to me.”
Mary snorted.
“He seems to like you.”
She snorted again.
“He scampers off whenever you come into the house. Why don’t you try playing with him while I finish up with Mrs. Polk?”
Mary stared at her slack jawed. She wanted her to play with an invisible dog?
“Here, use this. Mrs. Polk says it was his favorite toy.” She pulled a red, squeaky ball out of a pocket. Mary took the ball reluctantly. Not believing that it would work, she tossed it across the room. It floated back to her in a bobbing fashion and dropped at her feet. She scowled at her feet. She did not want to play with the ghost dog, but Gran had already retreated to her office. She picked up the ball. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. She tossed the ball again.
Really, the dog didn’t annoy her that much. As ghosts went, he seemed innocuous, but still, he was a ghost. If anyone had come upon her, they would have freaked out. There she was throwing a ball, and it was floating back to her.
She had to get used to this sort of thing from an early age. She’d had the ability to hear ghosts since she was born, but she hadn’t been aware of it until she was five. It was normal for kids to have invisible friends, but not invisible dead friends. When she’d told her schoolmates about these ‘friends’, they’d run screaming for the teacher. She’d realized very quickly that no one else heard the rich, chuckling voice of the late elementary school principal admonishing students not to run in the halls or the requests from the little boy named Henry who wanted to play hide-and-go-seek in the park. She’d learned quickly that she had to keep mum about what she heard. The only person she could tell was her grandmother. Other people just didn’t want to hear it.
She threw the ball across the room for Chowder and listened to his invisible paws click across the hardwood floor. She wondered what he did when he was home with Mrs. Polk. He probably stayed dormant or something. She wasn’t sure why, but ghosts tended to perk up when she was around. Gran had theorized that her aura strengthened them or made their presences more pronounced on this plane. Meaning she was like some sort of walking amplifier. Mary didn’t like that theory because it meant that she unconsciously helped ghosts talk to her when she’d rather they stayed silent.
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