And Ruin Followed Behind Her

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

I limped into the school at 7:05 after power-hobbling for the better part of a mile. I ran track in high school and was still quick on my feet, even in uneven boots. I held back vomiting three times on the way to school, and by the time I walked through the door the aspirin had kicked in and my head felt much better. Still, if I didn’t look ragged before, I was a straight mess now—sweat dripping down my face, my bleached hair frayed at the edges, tottering to and fro as my boots clacked against the ground.

Principal Anderson called out after me when I passed by his office. “Everything alright, Julia?” he asked. “Almost late today...”

“Nothing is fine, Bob, but we’re all getting through the best we can.”

I hobbled into the office and came face to face with a smiling secretary named Mrs. Blick. True to form, she was grinning from ear to ear.

“Good morning, dear!” she said through her bright teeth. “Anything I can help you with?”

I eyed her up and down. “You’re a size seven, right?”

She nodded. “Sure am. Almost my whole life.”

“Do you happen to have any shoes back there I can use for the day? I seem to be...out of sorts today.”

Without hesitation, she dove under her desk and pulled out a pair of moccasins. “Sure do! I use them when my feet hurt too much in these danged heels. Just around the office though, never out.”

I unzipped my boots and kicked them off. I slipped on Mrs. Blick’s shoes and they fit perfectly. However, my mismatched socks did them no favors. “Do you mind if I...don’t wear the socks?”

Mrs. Blick shrugged. “Of course, dear. In fact, you can just have those old things. I need a new pair anyway and this gives me a reason to bug Charles.”

“Oh no. I couldn’t.”

She smiled wider. “I insist.”

There was a kindness in her eyes that I didn’t see often in Chandler. There was a reason she worked with Principal Anderson for so long. They were both decent people in a place with a severe lack of them.

“Thank you.” I said, picking up my boots. “There is one other thing. I hate to ask...”

“Anything, deary.”

I pointed to the thick ponytail jutting out the back of her head. “Do you have another ponytail holder? I’m sorry. I’m just all out of sorts today.”

Mrs. Blick dug into her desk and pulled out a thick blue hair tie. “It’s yours, too.”

I heaved a sigh of relief and took the hair tie. “You are a life saver.”

“Women have to stick together, right?”

I flashed her a huge smile as I walked out into the hallway. “That’s right.”

*

CLAD IN MY NEW SHOES, and throwing my boots back under my arm, I walked down the hallway of George Washington High School with a renewed sense of spirit. I didn’t feel like a new woman, but I felt more confident than I had hobbling into school. A quick stop at the bathroom to splash some water on my face and pop a breath mint revived me, and a stop at the teacher’s lounge to grab a tall cup of coffee put me in better spirits.

When I left the teacher’s lounge, I noticed that more students than usual were glaring at me; their facial expressions ranged from disgusted to horrified. I was used to getting the side eye from people in town, but usually the students were more respectful, with exceptions like Duncan sprinkled into the mix. Today, though, every other student murmured about me under their breath.

As if materialized by my thoughts, Duncan turned onto the hallway from behind a locker and pointed at me. “That’s the one. The freak who vanished last night.”

I grumbled as he stepped toward me. “Good morning, Duncan.”

Duncan lunged at me. “What did I tell you about that, freak? You don’t get to say my first name. Show some respect to people better’n you.”

“Respect will be given when respect is shown, Duncan,” I replied. “We are not in a darkened park anymore and we are not alone. Now, we are in school, and in school, you show teachers respect.” I took a step toward him until we stood nose to nose. “Is that clear, Duncan?”

His muscles quivered from what I assumed was so much misplaced rage. “This isn’t over.”

“It will never be over, Duncan, and yet I go on anyway, just like I’ve always done. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to class.”

The disgusted stares of the children turned to tittering voices as I walked away. The tardy bell rang, and for the first time since the previous day, I felt in control of my life. It wouldn’t last, but I relished the moment.

*

TALES OF LAST NIGHT spread around the school like wild fire, and the only talk all day was about me suddenly vanishing in the park, mostly jokes about how awesome it would be if suddenly I was gone.

I would be lying if I said their barbs didn’t sting. I tried so hard to be a good teacher and make them passionate about learning, and here all they could talk about was how much they wished I would vanish off the face of the Earth.

By lunch, I needed a break from my room. I usually ate by myself there, away from the students that treated me like a pariah. Today, though, my room suffocated me. So, I walked out into the courtyard where the students ate. It was cold, but not the kind of cold that kept kids inside, at least not in Colorado. The courtyard was filled with students chatting away. I grabbed a lonely seat on a picnic bench away from the students, under a big oak tree with gnarled branches that spun sinuously into the heavens.

People in Chandler called oaks “hanging trees.” Towns across Colorado used them for hangings back in the 1800s. Ignorant folks still used them for hanging black folks when they wanted to send a message. They found my daddy in a tree just like it. It took them half an hour to cut him down. Stank something fierce after being left up all night. Mama barely recognized him when she went to identify the body.

In the shade of the tree in the corner of the courtyard, I couldn’t help but think about my father. His memory clung to me in Chandler like it never did in Chicago. He always told me times were changing, that one day Chandler wouldn’t look the same or feel the same as it did in the 50s, and he was right on one count. Times had changed, but Chandler still felt the same as it always did, full of the same types of people. People like Duncan Lewis.

I watched Duncan walk out of the school. He passed up sitting with his cronies, instead making a beeline for the edge of the school. There stood a group of men all in matching brown leather coats. I didn’t notice them before because they clung to the shadows, but they emerged when Duncan came closer.

On the back of each of their jackets was a patch showing a bloody dagger dripping on a red star. As I focused on the leader, I recognized “Big Jim” Ellis, Duncan’s father and proprietor of Big Jim’s Used Car Emporium, the biggest car dealership in the tri-county area for over twenty years.

Behind him stood Sheriff Nick Taylor, and two city council members, George Wallace and Tom Seaver. Big Jim had got them all elected into office, and in return, they jumped when he called. Behind them, three men I didn’t recognize stood in the shadows, silent.

Big Jim’s expression turned from a frown to a scowl as Duncan spoke. He muttered a few words and pointed right at me, as if I couldn’t see him. The whole cabal craned their necks to look at me. Their dead eyes pierced into my soul, and my half-digested sandwich leapt back into my throat. It was one thing to deal with a bunch of punk children. It was quite another to have the most powerful men in town stare menacingly at you.

I should have averted my gaze, but something inside of me decided I wouldn’t let them see my fear. I left my lunch on the bench and walked over to the group with the biggest smile I could muster. “Good afternoon, fellas. Can I help you with something?”

They scattered into the wind faster than I could reach them, like cockroaches when you turned on a light. Even Duncan, usually so cocksure, headed back into the school with some speed in his gait. As I walked back to my table under the hanging tree, I wondered why they would fear little, old me. I had no power in Chandler, while they had all of it.