Something Wikkid This Way Comes (4 page)

“Starr,” on the other hand, is answering everything negatively. Her parents are assholes who sent her away because they don’t understand her. The boys at the boys’ school are immature assholes who don’t understand her, and she likes “real men,” anyway. The teachers? Guess what—they’re assholes who don’t understand her. Jodi spends a lot of time commiserating with “Starr’s” woes, not recognizing the fiddle is playing the fiddler.

They talk forever, and it all gets a bit boring, as teenage angst inevitably does, when Jodi says something that makes me perk up.

“So you’re probably wondering what we’re all doing here,” Jodi says.

Yes
, I think.
We are, actually.

“Well, I met all of you, and I felt really…close to you. Like you’d understand me, and I’d understand you. I know I seem popular at school, but…” Jodi pauses and when she speaks again, her voice is that of a Very Sad Girl. “But the truth is, I’m lonely.”

“
You’re
lonely?” Madison asks sarcastically. Madison’s a hulking, sullen girl whose gum I’m constantly cleaning off the underside of desks.

“Of course I am. Just because it seems like I have friends doesn’t mean I can’t be lonely.” Jodi’s always-large eyes are big as saucers, and she looks like she might cry. I resist air-playing her a tiny violin, not least because no one can see me anyway.

“It’s hard,” Shar says, approaching Jodi and putting an arm around her waist. “It’s like we’re expected to always be one thing, and sometimes it’s easier to be that way. But we can still be totally different inside.”

Shar’s “logic” leaves me baffled, but it seems to work for Jodi.

“That’s it, totally,” the cheerleader says, beaming at Shar. Shar beams back, pretending they’ve had a Moment.

“I’m sorry, but you’re, like, the most popular girl in school. And a cheerleader. Why are you even hanging out with us?” Madison still isn’t having any of it.

Jodi heaves a heartfelt sigh. “That’s just how I am at school,” she says. “I’ve learned it’s better just to get along with everyone. But inside, I’m different. I like people like you guys. People who are different.”

“You’ve never seemed to like us ‘different people’ before,” Madison points out, pulling her ugly cardigan tighter around her.

“Yeah, well, there’s someone who has come into my life. Someone who has shown me another way to be. Someone who speaks to the darkness in me.”

At the word “darkness,” there’s a long silence.

“I feel like there’s a darkness in me, too,” Shar says nervously, as if she’s admitting a huge secret.

“Dude, are you part of that cult?” Madison interjects. “Everyone says all those girls have transferred, but we know they’re the ones fucking up the school.” I cheer internally. I’ll happily clean up Madison’s gum if she keeps cutting to the chase like that.

Jodi laughs. “What cult? We’re just here to get to know each other better. There may be powers in this town, powers that might be interested in us, but that’s not what this is about.”

Silence falls on the group as they mull over Jodi’s words. She’s done it perfectly—promising nothing while hinting at everything, all the while denying direct involvement with anything untoward.

“To get to know each other really well, I think we should do a ritual,” she says, her perky cheerleader voice more appropriate for suggesting they bake cookies.

“A ritual?” I hear Ana ask hesitantly. One of the few Hispanics in our school, Ana’s Catholicism runs deep. Although her answers to Jodi’s questions suggest Ana wants to be a rebel, I’m not sure how far that rebellion will stretch.

“Yes. It’ll be super fun!”

Jodi emphasizes her words with jazz hands. I wonder what cults have come to these days.

“What do we have to do?” asks Lara. I’m not sure Lara has any idea what’s going on. Maybe she does think they’ll bake cookies.

Jodi’s bright voice catches Lara’s enthusiasm and matches it.

“I think we should do this thing I learned in a book about ancient religions. When people would make new friends, they would do this ritual to honor each other. And we totally bonded today. I mean, I think we’re all really going to be good friends. So I’d love to do this with you. But, I mean, we don’t have to. If you guys don’t want to be friends or whatever.”

There are hasty assurances from all the girls except Madison that they “do so” want to be friends. Madison’s skepticism visibly skyrockets.

“I’ve always wanted to do, like, a ritual,” Shar says, after giving everyone enough time to kiss Jodi’s ass. She’s stuck close to Jodi this whole time, encouraging the girl with her presence, but that’s it. Our girl’s kept her mojo dampened.

“But it’s not, like, I dunno…evil or anything?” Lara asks hesitantly. I want to pat her on her blond head and send her home, and I can tell from the split-second flash of irritation that crosses her face that Jodi does, too.

“No, not at all. It’s like…I dunno, something fun. Think of it like this is a slumber party and we’re playing Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board. Remember how much fun that was?”

The girls all giggle appreciatively, Shar touching Jodi’s arm gently to let her know she’s on board. With everyone back on her side, Jodi pushes forward.

“So the first thing we have to do is get skyclad. That’s very important.”

“What’s skyclad?” Lara asks eagerly.

“It means naked,” Shar says helpfully. “I’ve read about it.”

“Oh,” Lara says, suddenly less excited. “Naked?”

“Yes. Let’s honor our bodies. Honor our beauty. Honor each other! We’re friends, right?” Jodi sounds like the host of a game show called “Peer Pressure Punk,” and I’m not the only one to reach that conclusion.

“I’m out of here,” Madison says abruptly. And with that, she stomps off in her Docs. Everyone watches her until she’s melted into the cornfield.

“Well, it’s not for everyone,” Jodi says. When she grows up, she should be a politician.

“So, what do you want us to do?” Shar asks. “Why are we getting skyclad? What is this ritual?”

“I just thought it would be fun. We’ll be honoring ourselves. And testing ourselves…”

“Is this a test? For the cult?” Shar asks, building off Madison’s question.

Jodi laughs. “I told you; I don’t know any cult. I just know that sometimes, when special girls find one another, they can call forth great powers.” There’s an ominous pause before Jodi speaks again, back in cheerleader mode. “So what do ya think?”

“I don’t want to join a cult,” Lara whispers. “I thought we were just gonna hang out.”

“Then you can leave, Lara,” Jodi says, her voice firm.

“But—”

“I said you can leave.”

Lara looks around, bottom lip trembling, but the girls have gone all High School Clique on her. They either refuse to meet her gaze or, like Ana, stare at her aggressively. Eventually Lara sniffles and walks off. That leaves Jenny, Ana, Jodi, and “Starr” alone in the cornfield.

“Are the rest of you in?” Jodi demands.

There are murmurs of assent, and Shar’s are fervent.

“Good. I knew it would be you guys. I just did. I saw you guys, and I thought, ‘They’re going to get me. They’re going to be my friends.’ Now let’s start the ritual! But keep your shoes on, or the corn will cut your feet.”

The girls all strip down to their skivvies, then those, too, get hung up on handy corncobs. I take a careful few steps back while they’re stripping, using the noise of their shuffling around to press myself against the wall of cornstalks in case they’re serious about the dancing.

I’m soon glad I did.

At first, the girls stand around carefully not making eye contact, except for Shar and Jodi. Both are sizing up the other women wolfishly, although soon they’re mostly eyeing up one another. After everyone’s gotten a chance to get slightly more comfortable being naked, Jodi gives a delighted little clap.

“We’re all so beautiful! Let’s dance. Take my hands; we’ll dance in a circle.”

Jodi grabs Shar’s and Ana’s free hands, and with a little urging is able to get Ana to start stepping to the left. There’s a lot of giggling as the girls start moving, and much tripping over cornstalks. The noise grows more frenetic as the girls increase their pace till they’re whirling, naked, in the cornfield.

The faster they go, the more they laugh, and soon Jodi leads them forward and backward in swoops, all the while keeping them moving counterclockwise. I can’t help but smile. The girls do look beautiful and happy, both sets of cheeks deliciously pink in the chill air.

Indeed, Jodi’s little show is a pleasure to watch, which only makes me wonder who it’s really for.

From under my camo, I spread out my magical feelers under my dense camouflage, but I get absolutely nothing.

The girls are dancing like crazy now, hollering and whooping and laughing. Jodi’s gentle forward and backward swoops have turned into them all rushing toward one another, their hands joined in a circle, then rushing back.

I wait for the inevitable, and then it happens. Jodi “trips,” sending her flying into Shar. The two women grapple, trying to stay upright. Then they
grapple
, trying to get each other not so upright.

Ana and Jenny stop, eyes wide, watching Shar and Jodi kissing. It’s Ana who moves first, toward the two girls making out. Jodi’s obviously watching to see the other girls’ reactions, because as soon as Ana steps forward, Jodi throws out her hand.

Soon enough, all four are writhing on a blanket Jodi’s pulled out of the backpack she’d left propped up against a stalk of corn. Knowing I won’t be heard over the sounds they’re making, I settle myself down on the ground.

I shut my eyes, giving the girls as much privacy as I can, as I carefully scan for power signatures. I’m so involved trying to figure out if there’s anything hiding in all that dead space that I nearly jump out of my skin when Moo says over my earpiece, “Would you mind turning your head just a little bit?”

For a second I wonder if she’s sensed something. Then I realize I’ve been sitting with our camera panned directly on the mini-orgy before me.

“Thanks,” Moo whispers. Then we wait for Shar to finish. And then finish everyone else.

I marvel at the number of times I’ve found myself in this same situation, and I wonder how different a show like
Charlie’s Angels
would have been if they’d had their own succubus. After all, there’s nothing like a succubus to take one (or more) for the team.

Eventually the girls are up and dressed, looking breathless and wrung out. Only Shar looks rested and refreshed, having gotten enough essence from her little session to power her for the next week.

The girls say good-bye, lingeringly and slightly embarrassed. Jodi pays close attention to Shar; I think our succubus made quite the impression.

The girls follow Jodi out of the cornfield, and I trail along afterward. I think I see a flash of something gray from the corner of my shield, but when I open up a camoed probe, I feel nothing—nothing supernatural or human or even animal. The cornfield’s dead, but my imagination must be nice and active.

The girls all go their separate ways at the edge of the cornfield, the other three heading in the direction of the school. It’s the opposite direction from where Shar is heading, but I still refrain from speaking to her, and I keep a careful eye to make sure we’re not being followed till we’re back at the Bronco.

When we’re all settled in the car, with Shar lying across the backseat like she needs a cigarette, we stop to assess.

“What’s your impression?” Moo asks.

“That I’m worn the fuck out,” Shar says with a contented sigh.

“About Jodi, Shar,” Moo chastises. “Is she our girl?”

I pull the camera off my head, fluffing up my hair by running my fingers through it as I consider.

“I dunno, Moo,” I tell her. “That was definitely something. But it wasn’t anything close to what the real cult is doing. What’s your impression?”

Moo, oftentimes our eyes in the skies, usually sees things we don’t on the ground.

Moo thinks for a bit, then answers carefully. “I’m not sure. Jodi has given away nothing. On the one hand, this is very suspicious. She’s doing all the right things for someone who’s looking for another target.”

“Yup.”

“But, on the other hand, there is no sign of the other girls or anyone in charge. Jodi couldn’t be doing all the damage or hiding all of those women—she’s just a human. She couldn’t be keeping them shielded. Maybe she’s not in the cult but is trying to be a copycat?”

“Could be. What do you think, Shar?” I ask.

“I dunno,” Shar says. “I didn’t feel anything magical. Except those lips. I can say, for certain, that I’m not the first woman Jodi’s been with.”

“Yeah, but despite what the Republican party would have us believe, lesbianism and Satanism are not the same thing.”

“I know. But where’d she get that experience?”

“Um, Shar, she goes to an all girls’ school. You make the connection.”

Shar harrumphs. “I still think it’s Jodi.”

Moo shakes her head. “There is no evidence. Only some heavy petting and a little dancing, with girls who are definitively not missing.”

Shar’s about to respond and I know it’ll turn into a total brawl if I let them get into it.

“It’s a good lead, though,” I say.

“Maybe.” Moo’s not the glass-is-half-full kind of girl. “We’ll just have to keep watching.”

Father Matthews isn’t happy.

“Sorry, sir. Still nothing to report.”

“But that stunt with all the dead bats! It was gruesome!” He’s mad as hell and I don’t blame him.
I’m
mad as hell. I’m the one who had to clean the dozens of dead bats out of the auditorium, after all.

“I know. And we’ve narrowed down our suspects. But these things take time.”

Father Matthews grunts. “And who are these suspects?”

“I’ve told you, sir, that we can’t make any names public till we have more information. We don’t want to cost an innocent man or woman a job.”

And I mean that. The priest is so panicked at this point he’d fire all of our suspects, just to be safe.

“Well, I’m expecting results soon.”