The Photographer (9 page)

“It's all right, Megan. I called and said I wasn't meeting my appointments. They can reschedule. It's you I'm concerned about.”

“I'm fine, Mom, really I am. I guess I am worried about Cynthia.”

“Look, I'm taking advantage of today to do some needed shopping. I'll drop you off at the hospital. Be late to school.”

“That's a great idea. I have first period free anyway.”

“I'll write you a note if you need one.”

There were no formal visiting hours at Boulder's hospital and security was fairly loose. No one questioned Megan's being there so early. She went right up to Cynthia's room. To her surprise, Cynthia was sitting up in bed sipping some orange juice. She was still pale, but since the last two times Megan had visited she had been asleep, any improvement pleased Megan. Megan's mind quickly made a connection. Could burning the photos have made Cynthia's improvement possible?

“Cynthia, you seem better.” Megan flopped in the orange plastic chair by Cynthia's bed.

“I do feel better. I gather I've slept a lot lately.”

“Several days.”

“Maybe I'm over the worst of it.” Cynthia smiled. She was so thin. “Megan, would you stop by with assignments again this afternoon? I must be months behind.”

“Are you sure, Cynthia? Wait a few more days.”

“Please, Megan. I have to graduate. I'll only work as much as I feel like it.”

“Cynthia, did you see much of Derrick after he asked you out and you said you wouldn't go with him? Not necessarily see him to speak to, but across the room or outside or anywhere?”

“Not that I recall. He came with you on Halloween, and, of course, he annoyed me a lot at the Homecoming Dance. I guess he hates me now. Poor Derrick. But that's his problem. You know, Megan, even if you are friends with Derrick, he gives me the creeps. He stared at me, probably getting up the nerve to ask me out, for weeks before he said anything. Why are you asking?”

“Nothing,” Megan assured her. Why share all her theories with Cynthia, who needed to concentrate on getting well? “If he should come to visit you, will you call me? Immediately?”

“I don't think Derrick is going to visit me here, Megan. Do you?”

“No, but I want to know if he does.”

“Are you jealous?” Cynthia said, teasing. Her eyes showed more sparkle than Megan had seen since Cynthia got sick.

“Of course not. I'm crazy about Robert. You're getting behind on that romance.” Megan spent the rest of her visit talking about herself and school gossip, needed diversions from the hospital routine.

“Hey, I'm going to miss second period if I don't hurry. 'Bye, Cynthia. Keep getting better.”

“I will,” Cynthia promised.

By the time Megan got to school it was a quarter to nine, but she took time to stop in the office.

“May I see the attendance reports for the last of October and this week?” she asked Peter Wallace, the assistant at the desk.

“Sure, Megan. Working on a story?”

“Sort of. Attendance isn't very exciting, though. I'll have to think of something to go with it.”

“Jolene Peterson is sick. The city paper has picked up on it.” Peter held up the
Daily Camera
. MYSTERIOUS DISEASE HITS BOULDER HIGH, the headline read. “Health officials are with the principal now,” Peter said. “They scooped you, Megan.”

Megan grabbed the newspaper and scanned the article. It was general. Named those who were out ill. Saved Megan some time. Only the six girls she knew of were in the article. No fade-into-the-woodwork girls were sick. And, for some reason, they hadn't included Jolene in the story.

Megan glanced at the first-period reports for the day, since they were on top. Peter had just written them up. Her eye caught the name of Derrick Ames. Derrick had missed first period, too.

“Peter, keep your mouth shut and look up Jolene's address for me, will you?”

“Oh, I've got it. You
are
working on the source of the plague.” He grinned and headed for a file cabinet. He returned with a scribbled address on a pad. “Funny it's only hit girls so far. I guess that helps prove male superiority, huh?” Peter grinned again. “Good luck, Megan. I'd love it if you scooped the local press and the powers that be.”

Megan smiled, waved, and turned to leave the office. The heck with classes. She'd catch up later. Lamenting her lack of transportation, she ran for a bus and headed back to north Boulder. Jolene lived north of the hospital, but toward the mountains. Her mom answered the door and seemed surprised to see Megan.

“May I see Jolene, Mrs. Peterson? I'm a friend of hers from school.” Megan didn't know Jolene well, but Mrs. Peterson wouldn't know that.

Jolene sat in bed, reading. She was surprised to see Megan, too. “Hi, Megan. Cutting classes today?”

“Sure, why not?” Megan laughed. “Actually I'm trying to scoop the
Daily Camera
and track down the bug that's alive and well at Boulder High. How do you feel? Why are you home?”

“To tell the truth, Megan, the
Camera
called me, but I just have a cold. I was so tired when I got up. Well, it scared me. I'm a terrible hypochondriac. Also, I've had mono once, and I don't need to get it again. I figured a little extra sleep might be insurance.”

“Then tell me about last night's meeting. I'll work on two stories at once. Did Derrick get some good photos?”

“I should hope so. He took enough. Several of me, of me and the mayor, me and the city council. Mentioned some stink about you only featuring beauty and not brains. I tried not to take that as an insult.”

“Well, if the insult came from Derrick it doesn't carry much weight. He's put me down so often I'm used to it.”

“I guess he doesn't worry about making friends. He's in love with cameras.” Jolene laughed. “Get me some publicity, Megan. It might help me get a scholarship in political science.”

“I will, Jolene, but answer one more question for me, and this is important.” Megan didn't want Jolene asking too many questions, but she had to have a correct answer to this one. “Was Derrick carrying one camera or two?”

Jolene frowned in thought. “Just one. Why?” Before Megan could make up a reason for needing to know, Jolene got excited and kept talking. “Listen, the council thinks the Renaissance Fair is a good idea. We want to have it at Christmastime. An old-fashioned Christmas with carolers and jesters.”

“And a roast pig?”

“Maybe we shouldn't go that far.” Jolene made a face. “But we'll put the Madrigals on the mall in medieval costume—that sort of thing. Then a day of festivities at the school.”

“Sounds like fun, Jolene … I'd better dash. I don't need too many teachers on my case.”

In the forty-five minutes it took Megan to get back to school, she mulled over the new bit of information she'd added to her list. Jolene did appear to have only a cold. Derrick took only one camera to the council meeting. He photographed Jolene with that camera. The camera in the darkroom was his second. The one that did whatever it did to make the girls sick. She was sure of it.

During the rest of the day, she saw Robert a couple of times at a distance, but since he already thought she was nuts, she didn't want to try talking to him again until she had more facts.

Quickly gathering Cynthia's assignments, she made the bus trip back to the hospital. Cynthia's door was closed. A nurse stopped Megan as she stood wondering if she should knock.

“Are you looking for Cynthia Harlow?”

“Yes, what's wrong? I'm her friend. I've brought some homework. I saw her this morning. She was fine.”

“She had a relapse. The doctor and her parents are in there now. Why don't you wait out by our station? Maybe you can talk to her parents. No one else is allowed in. In fact, now that an article came out in the paper about a mystery disease, they've tightened her isolation. You may have to have a permit to visit. Frankly, I never thought she was contagious, but now we aren't taking any chances.”

Megan couldn't believe it. Cynthia had been so much better that morning. Somehow she'd felt that burning the photos had made the difference. How or why she still had no clue, but it had worked. She knew it had. Or was she imagining it? She didn't know what to think. She slumped in a chair.

The nurse was friendly. Megan took advantage of that as her brain started to function again. Derrick was absent this morning. “Has anyone else visited her today—from school—someone beside her parents? Maybe before you tightened the quarantine on her room?”

“Let's see; I came on at two. Carol Andress is on the seven-to-four shift. She was getting ready to leave when old Mister Stelmach started yelling for attention. She's the only one who can please him. You can talk to her in a few minutes.”

Megan couldn't sit still. She started to pace the floor. What had happened? Could Derrick have just printed more photos? If Derrick's taking pictures of the girls was the source of the illness, was it the initial photograph? Or the prints? If he had stayed home and made a lot of new prints, would that have hurt Cynthia? Megan couldn't believe what she was thinking was possible, but she had enough facts to support the incredible fantasy she kept dwelling on.

The blond nurse named Carol Andress was kind, too. “We were so glad Cynthia was better. No one knows what happened to make her relapse. Bunny and Roxie improved a lot today, too. They are begging to go home. We'd decided the disease, whatever it is, had run its course.”

“Were there any visitors here this morning?” Megan asked again. “Any guys? These girls are incredibly popular at school.” Megan pretended to laugh.

“I can see why. All three are gorgeous creatures—even when they're sick.” The nurse thought about Megan's question. “Sure. There was a young man here with a camera. I stopped him, thinking he was from the newspaper. After that article came out in the paper we were watching for reporters. He said he was from the school paper, but wasn't here on business. That he was a good friend of Cynthia's. And since we didn't really have her in quarantine, I saw no reason not to let him go in to see her. He said he always carried a camera from habit. Offered to leave it with me if I was concerned about it. He was awfully sweet. Do you know him?”

Megan made sure. “Did he have kinky hair and wire glasses?” Megan knew the answer. Gus never carried a camera, and Robert wouldn't have come.

“Yes, that's him. We've gotten to know Gus, but this was a new visitor for Cynthia. She has lots of friends that have come by. So do Bunny and Roxie.”

“You moved Cynthia's roommate. Why haven't you stopped visitors if you think this disease might be contagious?”

“To tell the truth, we've kept debating it with the doctor. Since he can't find anything medically wrong with any of the girls, and since visitors help so much, we haven't been careful. If it is mono, it's hard to catch.”

“You still think it's mono?” Megan asked in amazement. “But you can't diagnose it?” Modern medicine wasn't looking too good to her at the moment.

“We've even checked for that old Legionnaires' disease. Don't print this, but the doctors are baffled. I imagine that, with Cynthia worse this afternoon, the order will come through for a complete quarantine.”

The order would be too late for Cynthia. Megan sat on the couch to wait and see Cynthia's parents. But she now accepted her idea fully. The nurse's confession that the doctors couldn't diagnose the illness and Derrick's visit to Cynthia convinced her that her theory was the truth. A strange truth, but nonetheless real. Derrick had come to the hospital, taken more photos of Cynthia, and now she was worse. Obviously, it was the initial photo that did the dirty work, somehow sapped the girls' life energy. Otherwise Derrick wouldn't have risked coming to the hospital. He would have printed more photographs from the negatives he had.

Megan couldn't sit and do nothing. She walked back to the nurses' station. “What rooms are Bunny Browne and Roxie MacNeil in? The same room Bunny had earlier?”

“Yes, they're sharing 311.” The first nurse was at the desk again. Carol had disappeared. “We're keeping all the Boulder High cases isolated. Are you sure you should be visiting them? A no-visitor policy is sure to come through now that Cynthia has gotten worse.”

“I was with them before they got sick,” Megan assured the nurse. “And I've visited Cynthia every day. I was exposed to all of them, and I feel fine. I'm sure I'll be all right.”

Megan headed down the hall toward 311. Pushing on the door, she walked in, surprised to see both Bunny and Roxie sitting up in bed, watching a game show on TV.

“Hi, Megan. Are you still well? How's the newspaper business holding up without us?” Roxie said.

“We miss you both. I'm having to do all the work. You're lots better, it seems, both of you.”

“Yeah,” Bunny answered. “I felt like eating this morning. I might not be able to dance all night, but I'm tired of this place. I'm ready to go home.”

Megan got right to the point. “Bunny, did Derrick say anything to you when he was taking pictures. About anything?”

“Well, he doesn't say much, you know.”

“Yes, I know. But did he say
anything?
Roxie, do you remember?”

“He did tease me some,” Roxie said. “I remember because I was so startled to have him talk to me at all, other than ‘Stand here, move there.'”

“What did he say? Tell me exactly?”

“Megan, are you jealous?” Bunny laughed. “I thought you were in love with Robert.”

“How can you even think of falling in love with Derrick?” Roxie asked with a gasp.

“Play them off each other,” Bunny said, eager for some boy talk. “Let's give her some advice, Roxie.”