The Empty Desk (4 page)

The day seemed to be going slowly. A couple of the other kids had made a few jokes at Aiden's expense, but he was doing his best to ignore them. He knew that sooner or later they would grow tired of it and find someone else to have their fun with. He didn't like it, but Miss Kelly seemed to have spotted who the troublemakers were and had made them sit apart. At least it was Friday and he had the weekend to look forward to.

He had already told a couple of friends that his mother would be coming in to school on Monday and even though he had asked them not to say anything, word had quickly spread through the classroom. He had been excited that she was going to come to talk to the class, but now he was starting to wish that he hadn't said anything at all. It might have been better if he'd been able to keep it a secret.

“Everything okay, Aiden?” Miss Kelly asked as she crouched down next to him. They were all supposed to be drawing a picture of something that made them really happy, but he was still staring at a blank piece of paper. He had no idea what he should make a picture of.

“Can't decide what to draw,” he said.

“Well, what do you like to eat?” she suggested.

“Mmm, ice cream?” he said, but he wasn't sure that was something that made him happy.

“Or maybe somewhere you like to go? Something you like to play?”

“Bowling,” he said. It was almost like he had forgotten how much he liked going with his dad, even if his mom didn't particularly like the place.

“That sounds like a lot of fun,” she said.

“That's something I do with my dad sometimes,” he said.

“Then maybe you could do a picture about it?”

“Okay,” he said. Just over her shoulder he caught sight of someone in the empty desk. He couldn't always see the girl but now she was looking in his direction. She was unhappy about something, but he had no idea what was making her so upset. When Miss Kelly moved away, he moved a little closer to the ghost, who was staring straight at him.

“You can see me,” she said. Her voice seemed cold and dry. It wasn't a question.

Aiden looked around to see if anyone was looking at him, but everyone was busy working on their own pictures. Miss Kelly had moved on to one of the girls, who seemed to have a mass of colored pencils spread out in front of her and was determined to use every one of them.

“Of course I can,” he said, turning back to the girl. “What's your name?”

“Alice,” she said.

“Do you wish you could draw a picture?”

She nodded, tracing her fingers along the desk in front of her.

“What would you draw?” he asked. He wanted to offer her a piece of paper and some of his pencils but he knew that would be of no use to her.

She shrugged. “I don't know.”

“You must know what makes you happy. Do you like bowling?” Aiden held up his sheet, though he had done little more than draw the first pin. “I like to go bowling with my dad,” he said, unsure if she had overheard what he had been telling Miss Kelly.

He put the piece of paper down and started to draw the second shape, wondering if they would go bowling again that weekend. He looked up at the girl again, but she was no longer there. She would be back, he knew that. Sooner or later she would be back. He didn't think that she really knew where else to go. He wondered if his mom would be able to help her when she came into school on Monday. He hoped so. It couldn't be very nice being a ghost if you didn't know where you should be going.

“So, any thoughts on what kind of thing you'd like us to take into school on Monday?” Melinda asked when she opened the door for Aiden to go inside the shop. She took down the sign that said she had needed to close the store for an hour and dropped it on the counter. She had thought about asking Delia if she could mind the shop while she went to pick up Aiden but decided that she didn't want to ask her for another favor, especially if she was still in a bad mood after her run-in with Mr. Lowe's son on the telephone that morning.

“Something old?” he suggested.

“Well, this is an antique shop,” she said. “Everything in here is sort of old.”

“Yeah, but some things are older than others, aren't they? Some things are probably a lot older. Have you got any dinosaur bones in here?” he asked. “That would be cool, and they would be really old.”

“You're right. I guess they would be old, but I don't think I have any at the moment.”

“Well, I think you would have noticed if you had, don't you?” Aiden put on that voice he seemed to use when he wanted to sound older than he really was. It came from copying his father just a little too much, but it never failed to put a smile on Melinda's face.

“I guess you're right. Why don't you just take a look around and see what you can find? I need to do a few things to finish up for the day while you decide, though. Is that okay?”

“Sure,” he said. “There's some nifty things in here among the boring stuff.”

“I'm glad to hear it,” she said. “But—boring stuff?”

“Sure. Well, no one is going to want you to take a teapot in to school, now are they?” He was pointing at the garish tea set that had arrived only a couple of days before. It was starting to feel like no one appreciated her choice despite its being highly collectible.

“I guess you're right. It's your call.”

“How many things can I choose?”

Melinda thought for a moment. She didn't want to take so many things in that she wouldn't get to talk about everything, but she didn't want to run out of things to say either. “How about three?” she suggested.

“Three sounds cool,” he said without questioning it and began his search of the shop's inventory.

“Try not to break anything,” she begged. “If you see anything that needs to be taken down off the wall or out of the cabinets, just shout.”

“Sure,” he said, his fingers already running over one of the display units. He'd been in the shop enough times to know what many of the items on display were, but Melinda was eager to find out which he would choose, what he found to be the most interesting, or at least what he thought would be fun for his classmates to see.

While he took his time working his way around the store, picking things up, considering them, and putting them down again, she dealt with the day's takings. There had only been a handful of sales, but they were enough for her not to worry about the store paying its way. More people had come in through the door than had actually bought anything, but some of them would be back. Some would have been collectors who were checking on what new stock had arrived; others would have been looking for a gift for a loved one. Most of the items in the store had a story to tell, and she was always more than happy to share them with anyone who might be interested. She hoped that the children would be as interested as she was in whatever he chose.

“How are we doing?” she asked when she'd finished cashing out and prepared everything for dropping off at the bank on their way home. A glance at her watch told her that they might not make it, but it wouldn't hurt to leave it in the safe over the weekend if they were running late.

“It's really hard to decide,” he said.

“Okay, sweetie, tell me what you've found so far.”

“Well, there's these old comic books,” he said. “The old X-Men and The Incredible Hulk. The boys in my class will think they are really cool. Maybe I could read them at home before we take them in.”

“Good choice,” Melinda said. “And of course you can read them. I guess we'd better make sure that there's something the girls will find interesting too, though.”

“Girls like comic books too, Mom, though they're not so crazy about the fighting.” He swung a fist in the air. “Pow!”

“Okay,” Melinda said. She hated violence, even in play, but she knew that was part of the rough-and-tumble of being a boy. “So what else do girls like?”

“Some of them like dolls, I guess. Or drawing pictures.”

Melinda took a look around the shop in search of something that might fit the bill. “How about this?” she said and walked to the far side of the room to take a framed picture down from the wall.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It's called a sampler. A long time ago girls had to learn how to sew, and one of the things they had to do was make something like this. See how neatly she's done the letters and the row of numbers at the bottom?”

“Home sweet home,” he read, his fingers running across the letters made from different-colored threads beneath the glass of the frame. Melinda loved how it was possible to pick out the individual threads and be able to count the number of times the little girl must have gone over each stitch. It must have taken hours of work to complete.

“Do you think they might like this?” she asked.

“I guess,” he said, but there was at least a little hesitation and uncertainty in his reply.

“Okay, so we just need one more? How about you choose something that you could talk about?”

“Me?” he said, a little surprised. “You're the one who's coming in to talk.”

“Sure. Why not? You know loads of stuff about some of the things in here.”

His eyes started wandering around the room again and back to the first display cabinet he had looked at.

“Is there something in there?” Melinda asked.

“It might seem a little bit boring, though,” he said, looking up at her without even giving her a clue as to what he had in mind.

“Show me,” Melinda said, opening the cabinet so he could get a better look. There was nothing particularly valuable in there, but she was still surprised at his choice.

“It's a Confederate ten-dollar bill,” he said. “Dad told me something special about it.”

“I didn't know that. Are you going to tell me what he said?”

“Nope,” he said. “You'll have to wait until Monday like everyone else.”

Melinda was a little worried about what Jim might have told Aiden about the bill. There was every chance that he had made something up about it that could make Aiden look silly in front of his classmates if he repeated it in front of them. She would have to ask Jim what he had told him in case she needed to put things right. Or better still, she would get Jim to do it.

They found a box in the storeroom at the back of the shop and placed each of the items inside. She was delighted to see how much care Aiden gave to each of them, as if they were all precious objects. Melinda knew that they each had been important to someone once upon a time, but only the comics had any real value. That wasn't important to Melinda; it was the memories that were important. They all had a story to tell, even if she didn't know them all. They had just finished packing the box when the door opened.

“Only me,” Delia called from the shop. “I saw you come back, so I closed up for the day. Anything I can do to help you finish up?”

“We're good,” Melinda said as they emerged into the front of the shop again. Aiden was carrying the box in front of him like some precious offering. “He's chosen some really interesting things to take in to school.”

“Good for you,” said Delia, ruffling the boy's hair.

“I'm sure he'll tell you all about it on the ride home,” Melinda said as she began to turn the lights off for the day. The light outside had started to turn gray, and rain did not seem too far away.

After the children had left for the day, the classroom felt like a very different place. Some of the other teachers had already started to leave, hurrying out to their cars as if they could not wait to get away. Clearly they were more settled in a routine of getting the children to put everything back in its rightful place before the final bell of the day was rung. Then the energy that had been restrained since lunchtime could be released as they burst outside and into the arms of waiting parents or were placed into the care of the school bus driver.

It had been a long day, but Dana had enjoyed every minute of it. It had been a big decision to come back after being away for so many years, but within a matter of days of her return she knew that it had been the right decision. She certainly felt as if she had come home. She had been a student at this school herself, but now the building seemed so much smaller than it had been when she had been sitting in this very room.

“You almost done?” one of the other teachers asked, sticking his head in the doorway. His tie had been pulled loose and dragged to one side. He was clearly itching to get away from there, just like the others.

“Almost done,” she said, remembering almost too late that his name was David. She had been told his last name too, but that had slipped even further into her mind. “I just want to make sure that everything is ready for Monday.”

“The clear sign of a newcomer,” David said. “I'm sure it would wait until Monday morning, but I guess you have to make a good impression. Try not to make the rest of us look bad.”

She wasn't going to get drawn into it. She wasn't doing this to impress anyone, other than perhaps the children who were being placed in her care. When she had first decided that she wanted to be a teacher she had also known that she wanted to be the best she possibly could. She had seen others who had tried to cut corners to make the job easier but she knew that the way for her to get the best out of the children was to give them the best of herself.

“I'd rather stay on a little later tonight to get it all done than have to come in earlier on Monday,” she said. “Besides, I've got one of the parents coming in to talk to the children on Monday morning.”

“Which one?” he asked.

“Melinda Gordon. Do you know her?”

“Aiden's mother? The woman who runs the crazy junk store in town?”

“I think she'd prefer
antique shop,
but yes. Aiden's mom. She's bringing a few things in from the shop to talk about. That's not a problem, is it?”

“No, no, not at all. Just be careful, that's all.”

“Careful? Careful about what?” she asked.

“It's nothing. Don't worry about it,” he replied.

“Come on, David, don't leave me hanging. If there's something I should know about, I'd rather you told me.”

“It's nothing really. It's just that a few people in town think she's a little crazy.”

“She's anything but that. I've known her a long time,” she said. She saw the slight raise of an eyebrow in surprise as he received the news. “I used to live around here before I went away to college.”

“Ah,” he said. A single sound that spoke volumes. “In that case, I guess you know what you're doing. I'll leave you to it.”

He left without another word—without Dana even having the chance to say good night. She shrugged and carried on tidying up to the sound of his footsteps receding down the corridor. By the time she had finished, the whole building seemed to have fallen silent and she realized that for the first time she might be alone in that place.

Everything had been put away, all the stray pencils retrieved from the floor and returned to their rightful places. Order had been returned to the room and yet she still felt that there was something out of place. She walked to the desk that none of the children wanted to sit at and rested the fingertips of one hand on it. She was sure that she had seen Aiden look in this direction more than once during the day, but he hadn't said anything to her about it. He had already hinted that he had seen something sitting there, but he had clammed up when one of the other boys started saying that Melinda saw ghosts. She wondered if he would say something to his mom. Maybe he would say something on Sunday when she went to Melinda's for dinner. There was definitely something strange going on, and she hoped that her old friend would be able to tell exactly what it was.

She stepped around so she was standing behind the chair and rested her hands on the back of it. Somehow she thought she would feel something strange, something out of the ordinary, but there was nothing. There was no strange draft that might make one of the children uncomfortable sitting there, no glare from the remainder of the gray late-afternoon light creeping in from the window. She tested the chair and the desk, but there was no sign of a wobble that might make it uncomfortable to sit at.

The surface of the desk was no more damaged than any of the others in the room; if anything it looked newer, cleaner, retaining the crispness from the scrubbing it would have received over the summer. The only obvious defacement in the wood was a single name scratched into it: Alice.

Was that the name of the last girl to have sat at this desk? There were no children in the class at the moment by that name, and although she could not claim to know the names of all of the children in the school, she could not remember hearing the name being used in the last few days. She traced a finger over the grooves that formed the name.

She was being silly. She had to be, but perhaps Melinda would be able to tell her if there really was a problem. She could not believe that Aiden was playing some kind of joke on her; he seemed too sweet a young boy to do that. There was nothing more that she could do herself and now she had to rely on someone who had to know far more about this kind of thing than she did. She put the last of the pencils back into place, retrieved her purse from her chair, and turned off the lights before heading out.