Alyzon Whitestarr (33 page)

“Serenity, is Da home?” I asked. She turned and looked at me as she calmly picked up her bag and went out the door.

Only then did I spot the note propped against the toaster. I tore it open and read that he was sorry he had missed what looked to have been a memorable welcome-home dinner. But we shouldn’t wake him for at least a hundred years, whereupon we were to have shaving cream and a razor at the ready. It was so Da that I laughed aloud, and suddenly all my dark imaginings seemed absurd. What an idiot I was. Of course nothing could change Da.

* * *

On the bus I went back to thinking about the yellow book. To begin with, the statements in it had seemed strident but plausible. People ought to act on their ideals and stand up for what they believed in; and it was true that some of the most terrible things in the world had only been able to happen because good people stood back and did nothing. But there had been something ugly under the words, a sense that someone was being blamed; a hectoring accusation that erupted only
occasionally into the open with vicious diatribes against those who failed to act.

And was that the aim of the harangue? That a reader should prepare herself to act? But to act how? Harrison had said the thug who stopped him going into the meeting room at the library had spoken of the need to prove his commitment. But what did that mean? It was like there was a haze of pompous and impressive words obscuring something harder and more sinister.

The bus pulled up at the school, and I hung back to avoid being jostled by a couple of younger boys trying to see who could punch the hardest as they got out. These were the sort of kids a gang ought to be recruiting, I thought. What use would a gang have for a reclusive, troubled girl like Serenity, with her pacifist ideals? She was more like someone they would choose for a victim.

* * *

I could feel Harlen’s eyes boring into my back as we did a term test in English, and I felt sure he would say something after class about me avoiding him. I knew I should stay around and defuse his anger by letting him corner me, maybe even agree to another meeting somewhere very public, but I was in too much turmoil about Serenity. If I could, I would evade him again.

There were three essay choices, and I was relieved to see that one focused on
The Lonely Passion of Judith Hearne.
I settled to work, and did not stop until forty minutes later when Mrs. Barker called time.

As we lined up to turn the papers in, Gilly whispered into my ear that Sylvia Yarrow had left school. I turned to stare at her, and she nodded solemnly.

“Why?”

“No one knows. I heard some kids talking about it before you got here.” We fell silent as we got to Mrs. Barker, and she smiled briefly as she took our papers. As we left the classroom, me hustling Gilly so we would be out of sight by the time Harlen got out, she asked if Da had got home safely.

“He came home late last night,” I said, getting round a corner and out of sight of the classroom door with relief. “Let’s go into a room,” I said as the bell rang. “I have to tell you something.” I glanced around, and Gilly finally figured out that I was worried about Harlen. So she looked around with blatant furtiveness that made me want to laugh in spite of everything. We found an empty room, and I drew her to sit at a desk that could not be seen by anyone glancing in as they passed the door. I told her, then, about finding the book under Serenity’s bed and about the swastika. Suddenly she gave a gasp and bit her lip.

“Alyzon, you’ve just reminded me. That neighbor who saw those two guys hanging around Gran’s house … but it can’t have any connection …”

“What?

“Well, the policeman said the neighbor thought they were some sort of neo-Nazis, because one of them had a swastika with yellow snakes around it tattooed on the back of his head!”

I felt winded. “Did they say anything else about them?”

Gilly shook her head. “The neighbor didn’t get close enough to be able to describe anything in too much detail. But, Alyzon, how could guys like that have any connection with some poetry group? It must just be a coincidence that they’re using the same symbol.”

“Maybe,” I said. But I didn’t believe it.

“What were the words?” Gilly asked. I stared at her blankly. “You said there were words under the swastika in the book.”

“Beyond this point there is only action,” I told her, thinking sickly of Serenity being somehow involved in the house fire that had deprived Gilly and her gran of their home. But at the same time it was absolutely ludicrous to imagine Serenity setting a house on fire, or even approving it.

It just didn’t make sense.

The next class was a slide presentation from a kid who read in such a slow monotone that I had to struggle not to fall asleep. I was glad of the cover of darkness, though, because it left me free to think. I had made up my mind that I would go to the city library that night, and after Serenity’s meeting, I would follow whoever looked most like the leader of the group. I didn’t know what it would prove or reveal, but I wanted to see them and get my own scent impressions, if I could.

I would have told Gilly what I intended at lunchtime, but a girl from our science class came hurrying in at the end of the slide show to say that she was wanted urgently in the science lab. Gilly grimaced resignedly as she went, but I knew she loved science and was pleased that Mr. Stravin relied on her so much.

Left alone and seeing Harlen heading outside with some other guys, I went to the school library determined to learn the correct name for the reverse swastika. I sat down at a table to draw it so I could show the librarian without a lot of explanation.
On impulse, I drew in the yellow snakes in case they meant something to her. Then I noticed Harlen standing on the other side of the desk. He had not yet seen me, but I could tell that he was searching.

I was certain he had gone outside deliberately to make me think the coast was clear, and I had fallen for it. Since there was no way out of the library but past the desk and he would spot me at once if I moved, I forced myself to calm down. I might just as well stay where I was, wait for him to notice me, and play along.

Harlen saw me, and I smiled and raised my hand. He looked really startled for a second, then he came toward me. To my astonishment, my danger sense went berserk. I clamped hard and tried frantically to think why it would react so violently when it hadn’t that morning in English. Fortunately, the librarian called out to ask Harlen something and, flustered with panic, I folded my drawing and stuffed it into my pocket. Like a switch being thrown, my keening danger sense fell silent. Curious, I took the drawing out again and at once my senses began to shrill. I stuffed the paper quickly into my pocket again and the shrilling died away, even though Harlen was approaching, his smell as hideous as ever.

“Hello, stranger,” he said. “Glad to see you without your watchdog.”

“Hi,” I said, sounding stiff to my own ears and wishing I was a better actress. But I intensely disliked him referring to good, kind Gilly as a watchdog.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight until you name a time
and place for our date.” His voice was caressing and amused but determined.

I crossed my fingers and said brightly, “That would be great! We could meet after school one night in the mall. I love that cafe we were going to meet at before.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a drive-in,” Harlen said.

“Drive-in?” I echoed, startled. “I didn’t think those things existed anymore.”

“There’s one out on the back road between Shaletown and Remington. There’s a retro cafe attached to it,” Harlen said. “I can have a friend drive us there in my mother’s car.”

Even though I was casting about desperately to find a good excuse to refuse the arrangement, a bit of me couldn’t believe how arrogant Harlen was assuming that his friend would chauffeur us around. But maybe the arrogance was just another symptom of infection.

I said diffidently, “I don’t think my da would agree to a drive-in. I can ask him, though.”

“Tell him it’ll be a comedy,” Harlen instructed. “And tell him I’d take very good care of his little girl.”

I managed with great effort not to shudder. When he left, I took the drawing out again, and this time when I smoothed it flat, my senses were quiet.

I played devil’s advocate with myself. Maybe it wasn’t that Harlen was connected to the Shaletown gang. Or maybe he was, and the swastika emblem was just a recycled logo like Jezabel had suggested. In which case there might be no connection
between the Shaletown gang and the book under Serenity’s bed.

But Harlen had gone to school in Shaletown, and hung around with at least one skinhead. And Serenity’s problems seemed to have begun in Shaletown. And the gang with the swastika logo was based in Shaletown. And besides all that, why would my danger sense go crazy at the possibility that Harlen would see the drawing I had made if there was no connection?

Then a memory slid into my mind: Harlen giving me an unlabeled CD for Serenity.

I realized then that I had to go back to Shaletown. I didn’t know how all of the stuff with the gang and the swastika connected to Harlen, but I wanted to find out. Because the thing I feared most was that Harlen, who carried a contagious sickness of the spirit, was involved with my spiritually wounded sister.

The remainder of the day, I spent my time uselessly willing classes to go faster. I was like a dog tied to a stump, wanting nothing more than to be free to follow my own desires. But at last the school day ended. I couldn’t tell Gilly what I meant to do, because her grandmother was in their car waiting with Samuel. I hadn’t seen the old woman since the night I had gone to her home after my visit to Shaletown, and she looked startlingly frail and old. But she smiled warmly and told me to come and see them soon. Gilly was touchingly protective of her, and as I waved them off, I was glad I had said nothing about my intention to spy on Serenity’s poetry
group. She had enough on her plate without worrying about me as well.

I spent an hour doing homework in the school library to give Serenity time to get into her meeting. Harrison had said she had worked for a while before going into the meeting room, and I didn’t want to risk lurking in the city library where she might spot me. The other advantage of hanging around was that there was less chance of bumping into Harlen, though I felt as if our meeting in the library had taken the pressure off me a bit.

There were only two older kids waiting for the city bus, and in a short time I was getting out at the city library. I was fairly sure I had left enough time for Serenity to get into the meeting room, but just in case I came into the entrance hall warily. There were six meeting-room doors, and the two nearest the front door were shut. I sauntered past them, but even with my hearing fully extended, I couldn’t make out more than that there were people in both. That meant there was soundproofing in the walls, like in Da’s shed.

I checked my watch and then went through the library doors, which were opposite the meeting-room doors. I wanted to find somewhere I could position myself so that I could see everyone coming out. The best spot was the magazine racks, because if Serenity happened to come into the library after the meeting, she would never go there, and from behind them I could see through the doors and into the hallway. The shelves were waist high so I would have to squat the whole time, but being close to the door, I would be able to get out quickly to follow my quarry.

I checked my watch again and then went to the checkout desk and asked the pimple-faced guy on the other side of the counter if my stamp-collecting club had begun their meeting already.

He frowned and said he didn’t think there was a stamp-collecting club scheduled in any of the meeting rooms. He pulled out a ledger to check and ran his finger down a page. Then he shook his head, saying I must have got the day wrong as there were only a regular poetry group meeting and some people trying to organize funding for a jazz festival. I asked when those meetings would end, and the guy said both meetings had booked an hour slot, so they would both end in about ten minutes.

I pretended to be puzzled, and he suggested the meeting I wanted might be at the East Library on the other side of the city. I wandered off trying to look disconsolate, but a backward glance showed that my performance was wasted. He had already forgotten me in the process of checking out a great pile of books for an elderly couple.

I went to squat down beside the magazine rack, but I had been there barely five minutes when a whole bunch of people lined up at the checkout desk, blocking my view completely!

Cursing myself for not anticipating this, I knew I had about five minutes to find another spot. There was nowhere else in the library, I realized, and the only other choice was to wait outside. I would just have to hope Serenity didn’t see me. But when I came into the hall, I had a brainstorm. I could hide in an empty meeting room!

I ducked inside a darkened room just as I heard the door
to one of the other meeting rooms open. There was a hum of voices as people came out, and I was about to stick my head out to look when a voice behind me said softly, “I wouldnae bother.”