“Good. So what’s your name?” I asked.
He smiled. He’s going to tell me. My heart started to race. I looked at the door. I would get him to say what they couldn’t. I’d be the one to end this. I’d be the one who got the police to do something. My grandfather could stop changing the house immediately.
I waited a moment. “Your name? What’s your name?” I demanded. “If you don’t tell me, I won’t tell you anything. There are more secrets, more fun things to find. I’ll tell you everything, but you’ve got to tell me your name first. Okay?”
He nodded and smiled.
“Good. So what is it? What’s your name?”
“William,” he said. “William Arnold.”
7
I turned and ran out of the room. I was actually trembling when I sat on my bed. I couldn’t get out of my mind the look of glee on his face when he suddenly said, “William Arnold.” It was weird. He looked like he believed he really had remembered that was his name. His eyes lit up as if it had just come back to him, and he smiled just the way someone who had been trying hard to remember something would smile. I was shivering. I sat there with my arms wrapped around myself, partly chastising myself for getting so foolishly frightened and acting like it. Maybe that was what he had wanted.
When I heard footsteps on the stairway and in the hall, I rose quickly and shut my door. I didn’t want to talk to anybody or let anyone see how disturbed I was and ask why, not even Myra or My Faith, but when the phone rang, I leaped at it. My hello was a little over the top. I’m sure I sounded like someone stuck in a coal mine for days who finally had contact with the outside world.
“Clara Sue?”
“Yes, yes.”
“It’s Lila. Hi,” she said.
“Hi, hi, hi.”
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, yes, what’s happening?”
“Nothing. I was just checking to be sure you’re coming to school tomorrow.”
“Yes, I’m coming. I’m fine, fine.” I took a breath and added in a tone of defiance, “And I’m definitely going to Audrey’s party.”
I was determined now not to punish myself anymore. Fate had done enough on its own, and the boy next door was compounding it.
“Oh, good. And you know who will be happy about that.”
“We’ll see how happy he really is. I think his picture is next to ‘flirt’ in the dictionary,” I added, feeling my body soften and calm as a flood of images returned. Boys, parties, music, and laughter. I flopped onto my bed. “Don’t forget. You were the one who told me he had ‘bedroom eyes.’ ”
She giggled. “You sound more like yourself,” she said. I could almost see her biting down on her lip and holding her breath after uttering those words, and for the first time, I really did feel sorry for her.
When someone is emerging from the darkness of great sorrow like I was, it was natural to be timid about saying anything that seemed like you didn’t share that sorrow or respect it any longer. But how long could I expect my friends to be sympathetic? Who wants to walk continually in the shadows, tiptoeing and watching every word she spoke and checking first before she permitted herself to smile or laugh?
“I’m myself. I’m myself. Never more myself,” I said. “I’ve got to finish the math. That last problem was a doozy. I put it off for a while because my head was spinning.”
“I didn’t even start math yet,” she confessed.
“Well, get to it. I don’t want to see you grounded for failing grades.”
She laughed, more relaxed this time. I welcomed the sound of it, but it did seem strange to hear it. When was the last time I had laughed? When was the last time I had heard Willie’s laugh? My Faith always claimed that laughter was “the gift of angels.” It certainly beat crying.
“Okay,” Lila said. “I’ll get to work. Oh. All the girls in our class are wearing red tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“The joke we pulled on Mr. Leshner. Oh, right. You wouldn’t know. It was Rose Mosely’s idea. She sent a note to him telling him she had a crush on him and couldn’t stand it. She piled it on, claiming it was making her sick. She couldn’t sleep; she couldn’t eat. She got all the lines out of some romance novel about this schoolteacher who seduces a student, or vice versa. She sent a different note saying something similar for four days in a row, without signing them, and then yesterday in a note, she told him that tomorrow she would wear red so he would know who she was. And so we’re all wearing red. Get it?”
“Yes. I’ll think about that,” I said.