The Obituary Society's Last Stand Page 2
Unfortunately Mrs. Ward was not one of those teachers. She always looked at Juniper like she’d caught her with her hand wrapped around the fire alarm. Juniper had met plenty of people like that. Besides her peculiarity, she had that look. Quiet. Watchful. Her grandmother sometimes called her a little pixie, with her brown eyes tilted just slightly and set in a small, narrow face. When she was little her dad used to say he could practically see the gears turning in her mind just by looking at her. “That spark in your brown eyes means trouble.” He’d said it with a smile, but she got the idea she made some people nervous.
Juniper propped her chin up with her hands as Mrs. Ward added the words “forbidden love,” and “fate” to the white board. “Hanging in the stars”. Juniper always liked that line, and yet it bothered her, how Romeo seemed to know fate had something tragic in store for him, and there was nothing he could do about it. But how could you blame fate when there was enough hate and prejudice in the world? Mrs. Ward should add those to the board.
When the bell rang most of the class already had their books grasped tightly, their legs tense, ready to launch from their blue plastic chairs. They clustered impatiently as they waited their turn to filter through the small doorway.
As Juniper stood to shuffle along behind the crowd, Levi turned around a few feet in front of her. He looked at her, his mouth open as if he wanted to say something, then he smacked it shut, his brow lowering as if in frustration, and turned around.
She stared after him as he walked away, wondering if she’d done something wrong. Maybe he knew she’d read his paper, and he’d wanted his words to remain private. Embarrassment threaded its way from her heart, up her neck, through her cheeks and ears.
She thought of all the friends that clustered around Levi behind the school after lunch, the teachers who looked the other way when he forgot an assignment, the girls who looked at him with regretful eyes because their father would meet Levi Scamp with a shotgun if he showed up on their doorstep. Of all the people who knew Levi, maybe she knew something that none of them did. She knew he was a writer.
Juniper glanced at the faces that passed her on the way to her locker, thinking about how everyone around her was a shell, to some extent. You could talk to them every day. You could think you knew them, but there would always be something hidden inside that you didn’t see. It was strange, seeing such an intimate piece of someone she’d known for years and yet barely knew. It felt like stealing. He would have a right to be mad. Yet she wasn’t sure it was anger she’d seen on his face.
She twisted the combination into her locker, then snapped it open and grabbed her lunch sack. When she turned around, she caught a glimpse of her locker-mate, Megan, and Megan’s best friend, Hannah. Somehow fate had dealt the two of them a blow, and they’d ended up in separate lockers. Sharing a locker with Megan was alright, though. Sometimes Juniper even followed her and Hannah to lunch and sat with them and felt almost like a normal teenager. But today was not one of those days. The anxiety from English class nagged at her, and she needed a release.
Clutching her lunch, Juniper made her way to the lost and found table near the front doors of the school. She hefted herself up and inched over, shoving the piles of lunch bags, scarves and notebooks aside. Pulling up her knees, she opened her bag and took out her cucumber cream cheese sandwich. She took a bite as her right hand sifted through the pile, waiting for that slight tingling sensation. She felt it on her fingertips as she touched a red and black Huskers ball cap.
She grabbed it, her eyes scanning the people who walked by, heading to lunch or their next class. After a couple of minutes she found him. Ryan Whitman. She waved to get his attention and tossed him the hat.
“Thanks.” He nodded at her before folding it up and sticking it in his back pocket, then continued on his way without a second glance. Juniper felt her nerves relax a bit.
She finished up her sandwich as her hand searched through the pile again. The next item was a pink gel pen. It was Megan’s, so she stuffed it in her pocket to be returned later.
She scooted over, reaching to make contact with more items. A slight electric zing nipped her fingertips, followed by the familiar tug. When she found something, it felt like standing in a stream and letting the current pull her away. Her fingers reached for the lost item that was begging for her attention. She twisted her mouth as she picked it up. A worthless paper clip. Why would anyone even bother putting a paper clip in the lost and found?
She ran her fingers over the smooth metal. Then it came to her, and she scowled. If Levi Scamp wanted to talk to her, why didn’t he just do it?
Chapter 3
Dance with the Dead
Juniper shuffled the playing cards and tapped them neatly into a stack before putting them back in her grandma’s kitchen drawer.
“I don’t know how long I’ll be able to keep playing cards with you,” Gladys said. “I think you’re learning to use your talent to win.”
“Maybe a little.” Juniper ducked her head to hide a smile, but it wasn’t really her fault. She just knew if the card she was waiting for was in the other person’s hand or in the pile. That sometimes came in handy.
“Maybe we’ll start playing Scrabble.”
A big grin spread across Juniper’s face. “Sure. I’m really good at Scrabble.”
“Oh!” Gladys batted at the air in front of her. “You’d know exactly what tile to draw, wouldn’t you? Boggle, then.”
“Sounds good, Grandma.”
Gladys’s eyes sparkled. “Hey, I wonder if you’d be able to help me with my crossword puzzles. Is choosing the right word anything like finding a physical item?”
“Hmm.” Juniper tried to remember if she’d ever felt it kick in for word games. “Not sure. We’ll have try it some time.”
“It just fascinates me. You’re capable of so much, June-Bug—with or without your ability.”
Juniper had never thought about what she’d be without it.
“Thanks, Grandma. Even though Grandmas are supposed to say things like that. Hey, are you coming over for dinner?” she asked.
“Not tonight,” Gladys said, glancing quickly out the kitchen window. “I think I’ll have a little of that soup from yesterday and get to bed early.”
Juniper frowned. Her grandma did look tired lately, but she didn’t like it if you mentioned it. Juniper gave her suede cheek a kiss and hefted her backpack over her shoulder before hurrying out the kitchen door. She hadn’t meant to stay so late. She’d dropped by after school and ended up staying to do her homework. Then her grandma had challenged her to a game of cards, which turned into several.
The rose-golden evening light turned the raspberry pink house next door an unnatural, glowing color that probably didn’t have a name in this world. A passerby would have to assume whoever lived in that house was either crazy or magical. Maybe both was true, if you counted Juniper’s oddity as magic.
The house was pink when Lila had inherited it from her grandfather. When she renovated it, everyone assumed the color would be the first thing to go. But Lila surprised them all by choosing a bold raspberry pink, and trimming it with black and just the right subdued, complementing colors to make it work. It was her first project in her now successful design career. But it didn’t just prove that Lila was talented. It showed that she was in tune with the history of the house, and that she was eager to be connected to the family and the town she’d found herself part of.
Juniper had accepted the house and Lila surprisingly easily for a girl who didn’t find it easy to connect to people in general. Lila never talked to her like she was a baby, or acted like she was strange. Besides, Grandma Gladys had tried to set Lila up with Juniper’s dad, Max, the day she met her, and everyone knew that was a good sign.
Her dad always said if he stopped being so stubborn and just did whatever his grandma suggested, he’d save himself a lot of time and trouble in this life. Then again, if he’d always listened he never would have married Ju
niper’s mom, and Juniper wouldn’t be here. She knew he’d never regretted being her dad. Maybe sometimes people needed to make the wrong decisions.
A light in the backyard caught Juniper’s eye, so she wandered around to check it out. Lila was resting on a hammock stretched between two large oak trees. A mismatched collection of candles burned on a tree stump nearby, reminding Juniper of the special occasion.
“Oh! It’s your anniversary.”
“Yep.” Lila smiled and turned to look at Juniper. “My favorite day of the year.” One hand rested on her round stomach.
“How’s exhibit B?” Juniper asked. She liked to tease her dad and step-mom, insisting that her new little sister or brother was going to be a freak of nature, just like her, but they knew she was just as excited about the baby as they were. They’d all been waiting a long time for this.
Lila furrowed her brow. “A little ornery this afternoon, but much happier now.” She laughed. “I know how ridiculous I sound. It’s awfully convenient to blame my mood swings on the baby. It’s just—”
Juniper frowned. “Is something wrong?”
“Oh, no.” Lila smiled, grabbing Juniper’s hand. “This is just a new experience for me. I don’t really know what’s normal. Oh! You should have seen the army of grandmas knitting up a storm at Aunt Ada’s today. I hope the little thing likes it warm.”
“Did they make any four-armed sweaters, just in case?”
Lila swatted at her. “This baby is not going to be a freak, Juniper. You are not a freak. Why don’t you sit and have some tea with us?”
Juniper winced as she imagined sitting in on her parents’ anniversary evening. “I’m afraid you two will have to celebrate your anniversary without me. I have some, uh, stuff to do.”
“Okay,” Lila called as Juniper walked toward the house. “There’s soup in the crockpot.”
Juniper’s dad smiled as he passed her with the mint tea. “Hey, Junie. Nice of you to stop by and see us,” he joked.
“Sorry. Grandma had to be taught a lesson at cards.” She was just about to throw open the kitchen door when a tune wafted across the lawn. Lila was singing. Juniper smiled and glanced back to see her dancing, her dress swishing as she moved. One hand was up, as if caressing an invisible shoulder. The other clasped the empty air.
“I didn’t know you liked to waltz. You interested in teaching a small-town boy how to do that?” Max asked.
“One two three and one two three.”
Juniper’s hand still hovered over the door handle. There was something strange about Lila’s movements, and the way she continued on as if she didn’t see Max. Juniper’s stomach dropped as the scent of cinnamon drifted across the lawn, a smell that meant unwanted visitors.
“Lila?” Juniper heard a hint of panic in her dad’s voice as he hurried toward Lila. He set the glasses down on the tree stump and moved in close, taking her hand in his, and settling the other on her waist. For a moment, everything looked normal—at least their taffy-sweet version of normal—and Juniper felt silly for letting her imagination get the best of her.
“Can I cut in?” Max asked.
“You’ve cut in on us before. I’ve been waiting a long time to finish this dance.”
Juniper’s backpack slid off her shoulder, tumbling down the stairs. The southern drawl didn’t belong to Lila. Warm, humid air pressed down on Juniper, leaving her gasping for breath as she walked down the steps and slowly toward her father.
“Lila! Look at me.” Max’s voice shook.
Lila chuckled, deep and slow. “I see you. I’ve been watching you all. Living your fairy tale life while my body wasted away at the bottom of that pond. But the hidden things, the discarded things, have a way of floating back up to the top.”
Juniper shuddered, remembering the night of Asher Whiting’s death nine years ago. That was the night Asher kidnapped Juniper hoping to find a lost inheritance he felt he was entitled to. That was the night he tried to shoot Lila just for revenge.
Max shook Lila’s shoulders. “Lila, can you hear me?”
She shoved him away. “No need to get violent again. Last time I had the advantage, but it wouldn’t be a fair fight now.” She touched her round stomach, then ran her hands through her hair. “I’ve never imagined myself as a blond, but this body could do nicely.” Her dad’s fists clenched as her fingertips traveled up one smooth arm, along her shoulder and neck, and caressed her cheek. “Or perhaps I’ll take her with me. There was something special between the two of us before you interfered.”
Max launched forward. “Leave her alone, or—”
“Or what?” she snarled, her voice low. “Are you going to hit me? Go ahead.” Her body moved so close her face was inches from his, her lips curling into a sneer. She grabbed his hands and pulled them up to her neck. “Hurt me.”
Even though Juniper’s heart felt like it might leap from her chest and dash away if her feet didn’t, she clenched her jaw and crept forward. She knew as well as her dad did that they’d only hurt Lila if they tried to fight Asher, but maybe if they caught hold of her they could protect her.
“No?” Lila said, sounding almost innocent.
Max lunged too late. Lila spun around, just out of his reach. She twirled faster and faster, narrowly missing an oak tree.
“Stop! Please! Don’t hurt her,” Max shouted.
Juniper ran, hoping to block Lila on the other side.
“Stay back, Junie,” Max shouted.
Lila’s body stumbled one way, her feet tripping each other, then flung the other direction, coming dangerously close to a large tree. Max grabbed for her again, barely catching the hem of her dress.
“Hands off!” she screamed before jerking back. She stumbled and fell, her head cracking against the tree trunk. Lila slumped to the ground.
Tears burned in Juniper’s eyes as she watched her dad collapse next to Lila. One hand gingerly touched her head while the fingers of his other hand fluttered across her stomach.
Lila’s eyes opened, rolling around until they met Max’s. She tried to speak, but the words sputtered and died on her tongue.
“What is it? Lila, are you okay? Juniper, go get Grandma.”
Juniper stepped backwards, but before she ran to get help Lila opened her mouth again. “This town’s about to get a lot more interesting,” she hissed as her head lolled to the side.
Chapter 4
The Lost and Un-Found
Juniper’s dad had tried to convince her to stay home from school after the trauma of the evening before. Her parents’ peaceful anniversary had turned into a whirlwind of old ladies fluttering around Lila as her dad called the local doctor. Within minutes, Lila was insisting that she was fine with the exception of a killer headache. But the tension in her face didn’t relax until she’d felt the baby move.
It was after eleven when Max finally convinced Gladys and Ada to stop fixing tea and fussing over Lila and go home.
It was after two when Juniper finally stopped tossing in her bed and fell asleep.
The idea of staying home from school made Juniper feel anxious. She had to be active. Also, school made things feel at least a little bit normal. And normal was the look they were all going for. Lila was even up this morning with a smile on her face, making pancakes that all three of them had stuffed them down even though Juniper had a feeling no one wanted them.
Besides, there were other things she needed to deal with. For instance, the front pocket of Juniper’s backpack was filled with items that belonged to Levi Scamp. Over the course of the week, she’d found a carabiner in the hallway, a flash drive in the gym, and a notebook in the library. Just today she’d found three pens and a half-finished math assignment littered along the sidewalk.
She couldn’t return them during third period English class because there was a pep rally, but she couldn’t hold onto them much longer. The thought of walking into Levi’s cluster of friends and giving back his things with all their eyes on her made her heart skitter. Wit
h last night’s events hovering over her whole family like an ominous storm cloud, she should have been grateful for the distraction, but the collection of items waiting to be returned to their rightful owner had her tapping her foot all morning.
Levi was altering their system, and she was confused. Did he just want to talk, as she’d imagined the day before when he’d left the classroom? Or was he playing a joke on her? He was big on playing jokes, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to be on his radar. The uncertainty of it all left her more worked up than Grandma Gladys driving her big old Cadillac on snow-covered roads.
The rhythm of the marching band’s drums pounded through the halls and right into Juniper’s chest as she walked toward the gym. It added to the noise and turmoil inside her, but she had to admit the enthusiasm around her was hard to ignore, even if she didn’t care much for pep rallies. Pulling in her elbows to make herself as small as possible, she was jostled through the crowd and into the gym like a pinball.
She spotted Hannah and Megan sitting on the bleachers. There was a space next to them, and they waved as she made her way toward it. She felt a little like a tag-along with Megan and Hannah, but it seemed strange to sit alone at pep rallies. It was like sitting in a corner at a birthday party, which Juniper remembered doing a time or two as a child. She hadn’t minded it much, but she liked to think her social skills had improved a little over the years.
Juniper climbed the bleacher stairs about halfway and shuffled inward, finally reaching the open spot on the glossy wood bench. She watched the other kids shouting back and forth over the music, the cheerleaders starting their routine, and the football players tossing a ball back and forth. Brightly colored banners hung all over the gym.
Hannah nudged her. “I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to look peppier than that.”