Trouble With Liberty (5 page)

“She did,” he said flatly. “The police.”

I strapped on my helmet and wheeled my bike out of the shed. Then I inhaled deeply. There was a definite nip of autumn in the air, but the sun was shining, the sky was blue, and it felt like the whole world was smiling. It was just too good a morning to stay indoors. Besides, if I hung around the house, Mom was bound to find work for me, and that was not how I wanted to spend my Saturday.

I hadn't intended to ride over to Ryan's place. I mean, he lives a good seven miles away. It just sort of happened. I guess I was feeling energetic — and maybe a bit guilty about how little I'd seen of him lately. Even though we were in most
of the same classes, we didn't sit near enough to talk, and once the bell rang, Ryan always seemed to disappear.

As I pedaled up the long dirt driveway to his house, I spotted him in the corral, brushing Hercules. He saw me and waved.

“What brings you out to the boonies?” he asked as I climbed the fence and plunked down on the top rail.

“Do I need a reason?” I grinned. “Can't a friend visit a friend?”

Ryan didn't answer, but the way he looked at me over Hercules' back made me wish I could take back that last sentence.

“We haven't seen much of each other lately,” I tried again more honestly.

“You know where to find me,” he said, but he sounded so far away it hurt. I hated this! When had Ryan and I started tiptoeing around each other? We used to be able to talk about anything! And now … well … and now we couldn't. If we didn't fix things soon, it would be too late.

“Ryan,” I blurted, “why aren't we friends anymore?”

“We are friends,” he said.

If that was true, why was he being so cold?
He wouldn't even look at me. Maybe it was already too late. Misery settled over me like a lead overcoat.

“Not friends like we used to be,” I said.

“Things change.”

“The only change is Liberty Hayes. For some reason that I don't understand — and you won't explain — you don't like her.”

I waited for him to answer, but he just kept brushing Hercules.

“Well, I
do
like her!” I shouted in an effort to bring Ryan back to life.

“It's a free country,” he shrugged.

I tried again, determined to get through to him. “Why are you being so difficult about this? You have no good reason to dislike Liberty. If anything, I would think you'd feel sorry for her after what Mr. Henderson did.”

That hit a nerve. Ryan threw the brush to the ground. Then, looking as if he was about to murder someone, he came striding towards me. I didn't know whether to scream or run, but he was in my face so fast, I didn't have time to do either.

“Mr. Henderson didn't do anything!” he yelled. “It's all just a big, fat lie!”

“You don't know that!” I wailed. What was the matter with Ryan? Why couldn't he just give up on this hate he had for Liberty?

“Oh, yes I do.”

“How could you?”

“Easy,” he growled, staring at me so hard I started to squirm. “I was there.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I was there.”

“You couldn't have been.” I shook my head. I didn't want to call Ryan a liar, but what he was saying didn't make sense. “You told me you fell asleep in an empty classroom during first period and didn't wake up until after history had started.”

“That's right. It just so happens that the classroom I fell asleep in was band.”

I hadn't even considered that possibility, so suddenly I didn't have anything to say. But after I'd thought about it for a few seconds, I frowned. “Uh-uh. That can't be. The band room might have been empty first period, but we had class in there second period, and you were definitely not there. I know, because I looked for you.”

“Well, you obviously didn't look in practice booth 3, because that's where I was. I figured it would be the perfect place for a nap. It's soundproof, there's carpet on the floor, and when the light's off, it's totally dark. I slept like a rock. I never even knew there was a class going on.”

Ryan had barely been able to keep his eyes open during homeroom, so it was easy to see how he could've slept through band. But two hours isn't long to crash when you've been up all night.

If forty kids on tubas, trumpets and drums couldn't wake him, it seemed unlikely that he'd suddenly come to when there was only Liberty and Mr. Henderson in the room.

“Okay. So what woke you up?” Even I heard the suspicion in my voice.

Ryan's eyebrows shot up. “You don't believe me, do you —
friend
?”

I don't know if it was the way he said “friend”
or the accusing look in his eyes, but suddenly I felt like he'd stuck a knife in my ribs. For a few seconds I just stood there gaping at him.

“That's so mean, Ryan.” My voice trembled when I finally found it again. “It's mean and totally unfair.”

He kicked the fence post so hard the rail I was sitting on vibrated.

“You should talk!” His eyes flashed angrily. “You come here claiming to be my friend, and in the next breath you accuse me of lying! If you ask me, you're the one who's being mean and unfair.” He turned away in disgust and started marching back towards Hercules.

Now
I
was angry. “Oh, no you don't,” I muttered, jumping down from the fence and chasing after him. I grabbed his arm and spun him around. Then I jammed my fists onto my hips and glared at him.

“What do you expect?” I growled. “You've made it clear to everybody in town that you hate Liberty. And now — an entire week after the attack — you suddenly remember that you witnessed the whole thing! And,
of course
, Liberty's the one to blame. Give me a break, Ryan. If I were telling you that, would
you
believe it?”

The morning got very quiet. We stood facing each other like a couple of edgy gunslingers.

Ryan fired first. “Yes,” he said. “I would believe it, because you're my friend — and friends don't lie.”

Zing!
A clean shot right through the heart.

I didn't fall down, but it sure felt like I was dying. Or maybe it was our friendship that was dying. And if it was, it was my fault. Somewhere along the way I'd forgotten how to be a friend.

Hot tears burned my eyes. I didn't want Ryan to see me cry, so I turned and started running for the fence.

But I never got there.

I didn't even realize Ryan had moved until he was standing between me and the gate. I went to swerve around him, but he grabbed both my arms and cut off my escape. I tried to break free. That didn't work either. Finally I stopped struggling and stared down at my feet, waiting for Ryan to dump on me some more.

“Look at me,” he said.

I couldn't.

He gave my shoulders a shake. “Look at me!”

Jolted from self-pity to alarm, I did as I was told. A tear slid from my eye. With my arms
pinned to my sides, there was nothing I could do about it.

Ryan watched it roll down my cheek and then he frowned. “Friends don't lie,” he said quietly. Then he added, “And they don't make each other cry.” He let go of my arms. “I'm sorry, Val.”

I couldn't believe my ears. Had Ryan just apologized?

“What did you say?”

“I said I'm sorry,” he repeated.

“You are?” I echoed in disbelief.

He nodded.

“Does that mean we're still friends?” I sniffed.

Ryan stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Unless you don't want to be.”

Suddenly I couldn't speak for the strangle-hold my heart had on my throat. I just threw my arms around Ryan and wiped my tears on his shirt.

Once we'd made up, Ryan told me what had happened in the band room. He explained how he'd set his watch alarm to go off just before the end of second period. When he woke up he'd opened the door a crack so he could peek out.

The kids left in dribs and drabs, and soon
Liberty and Mr. Henderson were the only ones there. With only three minutes between classes, Ryan was antsy to get going. But if he showed himself he'd have to explain why he'd missed band, and he didn't want to do that. So he just stayed put and waited.

At first everything seemed pretty normal. Liberty explained the problem with her clarinet, and Mr. Henderson checked it out. But he couldn't find anything wrong, so he gave it back and started packing up his briefcase.

Liberty put her clarinet away, but instead of heading to history, she kept hanging around. At first she leaned against the desk. Then she sat on the corner of it, and when Mr. Henderson walked by, she jumped up in such a hurry that she fell into him with her breasts — accidentally on purpose, according to Ryan.

Of course, they both apologized all over the place, and Mr. Henderson told Liberty to get to her next class. She pouted but started to gather up her things. Until Mr. Henderson went into the instrument room. That's when Liberty undid a couple of buttons on her shirt and followed him.

They weren't in there long. In less than two minutes, Mr. Henderson came flying out as if
wild horses were chasing him. And Liberty was right behind him.

Red in the face, Mr. Henderson stood so his desk was between the two of them and said hoarsely, “I think you'd better leave.”

For a few seconds Liberty just stared daggers at him. Then, without even picking up her things, she ran to the door. But as she grabbed the knob, she looked back and growled, “You'll be sorry.”

Though I believed Ryan's story, I still wasn't willing to turn against Liberty. For one thing, Ryan hadn't seen her do anything except unbutton her blouse. It was a dumb thing to do, but it didn't prove she was the one who had done the attacking. Whatever had happened between her and Mr. Henderson, it had happened in the instrument room, and Ryan said himself that he couldn't see in there. Mr. Henderson might have tried to molest Liberty. Or Liberty might have come on
to him. There was no way of knowing.

The other thing in Liberty's favor was the fact that Ryan wasn't willing to go to the authorities with what he knew.

“It's my word against hers,” he said when I called him on it. “Everybody knows I don't like Liberty. They'll just think I'm trying to get her in trouble. Besides, like you said, I didn't actually see what happened. I'm sure Mr. Henderson is innocent, but I can't prove it.”

“I know this is changing the subject,” I said, “but why
don't
you like Liberty? It's like you've hated her from the second I introduced you.”

Ryan shook his head. “No. I hated her way before that.”

My mouth dropped open. “Huh?”

“I met Liberty before you introduced us.”

“Huh?” I said again. “When? Where? How?”

“On the connector flight from Vancouver to Kamloops on my way back from California. It was when Liberty and her mom were coming to Sutter's Crossing. Liberty had the seat next to mine. During the flight she came on to me like I was a movie star or something. And I fell for it.” He grimaced. “Boy, did I fall for it! I can't believe I was so gullible. I even gave her my
phone number. But when the plane touched down in Kelowna, the lady across the aisle from Liberty got off, and a guy got on in her place. And suddenly it was like I'd disappeared. Liberty only had eyes for him.”

I was stunned. For a few seconds all I could do was blink. “Why didn't you tell me this before?” I said finally.

Ryan frowned. “It's not exactly the sort of thing a guy wants to get around.”

Up until then I'd been completely on Liberty's side. But now I didn't know what to believe. Knowing Liberty, I was almost certain she'd been trying to get Mr. Henderson to notice her. She'd told me herself she thought he was hot. And though I couldn't believe she'd actually want to make out with him, I wouldn't put it past her to be a tease. I mean, anybody who wears a see-through blouse isn't going to think twice about undoing a couple of buttons.

The thing is, no matter how much I thought about it, I couldn't picture Mr. Henderson taking advantage of the situation. Some male teachers give you the creeps with the way they look at you, but Mr. Henderson wasn't like that.
He was friendly with all the kids — girls
and
guys — but in a strictly teacher-student kind of way.

So maybe he
hadn't
attacked Liberty. In fact, I'd almost talked myself into the idea, when — partway through dinner a few nights later — my mother announced that Mrs. Henderson had left town. Mom didn't know where she'd gone, or why, but considering the circumstances it seemed pretty obvious to me. The lady had walked out. And suddenly I found myself switching sides again. If Mr. Henderson's own wife didn't believe he was innocent, why should I?

Of course, two days later I changed my mind again. In fact, by the time the middle of October rolled around, I must have flip-flopped fifty times. The situation was dragging on forever, and I was beginning to wonder if it was ever going to get settled. Liberty's dad hadn't dropped the charges, but there was no court date in sight. And Mr. Henderson was still suspended.

Whenever I went down Mason Street, I'd peer at his house. Not that there was much to see. Since Mrs. Henderson had moved out there were no toys on the grass and no laundry drying on the line. The drapes were closed; the yard was deserted.
If it weren't for Mr. Henderson's car in the driveway, you would've thought he'd left town too. But I knew he hadn't. Otherwise his fence wouldn't have had RAPIST spray-painted across it, and his car wouldn't have gotten egged.

The third Saturday in October is when Sutter's Crossing holds its annual Autumn Supper and Dance at the community hall. It's a big deal, and everybody attends. I mean
everybody
. Everybody except Mr. Henderson, that is.