Bitterroot Crossing (6 page)

    “I wouldn’t exactly call her my girlfriend or lovely. We just hang out a lot.” I took another bite and swallowed. “Too much, in fact.” I glanced around the room. “Who made all these string pictures?”

    “You mean the needlepoint? I made them.”

    “String pictures, geez, what an idiot I am. They are cool, by the way. They must take a lot of time.”

    Her thin shoulders rose up and down. “Not too long. Besides I have a lot of time on my hands.”

    I stood to take a closer look. They were truly awesome. One in particular caught my eye. It was a portrait of a woman done completely in white, black and gray. It looked like a photograph. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

    “That’s my mother. I made it about a month before she died.”

    I returned to the table. “Sorry about your mom.”

    She gave another delicate shrug of her shoulders. It was just a slight little motion, but the way she pulled if off was the sweetest thing in the world. “She went fast. Blood vessel in her head. A good way to go, I imagine. But she was way too young. I miss her terribly.”

    The screen door creaked open and Jessie’s grandma walked inside. She looked at my near empty plate. “Glad somebody’s enjoying that cake.”

    “It’s great,” I said.

    She pulled out a chair and joined us at the table. Out of her pocket she pulled a small burlap bag. She reached inside and removed a square, velvet-covered box that reminded me of boxes my mom kept her jewelry in. She lifted the lid, and Jessie and I bent over it to see the contents. Inside, resting on a miniature satin pillow was a silver, diamond-shaped locket.

    Jessie reached for it. “It’s wonderful. Whose is it?” She lifted it and let it dangle in the light of the kitchen.

    “Actually, it’s yours,” her grandma said. “The locket belonged first to your great-great- grandmother. It’s been passed down to the youngest of her descendants ever since. Your mother wore it for awhile, but. . . .” She relaxed back and grew quiet.

    “But what, Nana? You’re not going to stop there, are you?”

    She eyed the necklace as if it might speak. “That locket has some mystical power over Zedekiah Crush. Not sure what, even though he thinks I know.” She got up, walked to the tea kettle, and filled it with water. “When your mother returned after being chased away by that ghoul, she always wore the locket. We were coming back from her regular doctor visit.” She grinned broadly at Jessie. “When she was carrying her baby girl. Zedekiah had been hanging out, making trouble for us. Nothing big, just pulling up our garden, scaring off the chickens, things like that. He was sitting on our fence when we arrived back at the farm. Your mama stepped out of the car and one of his crazy gusts of wind blew the coat off her shoulders. The locket was hanging around her neck. That darn ghost stood there stock still staring at the necklace. Then his image wavered and shrank up till he had disappeared completely. Haven’t seen him since. Least not ‘till now.” She lit the flames under the kettle and sat back down. “I knew sending you out there in the world was going to start trouble again.”

    Jessie reached over and covered her grandma’s hand with hers. “It’s too late to fret about that now, Nana. I’ve been out and Zedekiah knows I exist. What’s more, he’s not terribly bright. I think he still believes I’m Rebecca.”

    “I guess you’ve got to expect a guy made of vapor not to have a lot upstairs,” I added lamely. Jessie’s grandma focused on me now as if she’d forgotten I was there. “You’re the Crush boy, aren’t you? I knew it the minute I saw you. Handsome as the devil himself, and just as ornery, I’ll bet.” She winked at me and I didn’t really know how to respond so I just sat there for a second then shoved another bite of cake in my mouth.

    Jessie looked over at me. “You’ll have to excuse Nana. She has a tendency to blurt out whatever pops into her head.” She shot her grandma an admonishing look. “I wonder how to open it?” She picked at the locket in an attempt to pry the two sides apart. No luck. “What’s inside? It seems impossible to open.”

    “I’ve tried everything but a stick of dynamite,” her grandma said. “I can’t get it to budge. All I know, from stories my mother told me, is that the contents were so secretive only Rebecca herself knew what was inside.”

    The tea kettle whistled and we all startled simultaneously. Obviously the day’s events had left us all on edge. Her grandma stood to remove the kettle from the heat but stared at the flame before turning it off. “I think Zedekiah believes the contents of the locket will send him to hell for good. That’s why he fears it.” She returned to the table. “Ah, but I’m just making up theories. Who knows why he had such a strange reaction to it.”

    “He definitely changed his attitude when you mentioned it.” I put my hand out. “Can I try to open it?” It was small between my big fingers and in moments I felt like a clumsy oaf trying to pry the delicate thing open with my thick callused finger tips. I felt Jessie’s big green eyes on me so I stopped making a macho fool of myself and handed it back to her. “You’re right; dynamite may be the only thing to do the trick.”

    Jessie giggled and I realized the sound of it was even cuter than the little shrug thing she was doing earlier. She reached for the cup of tea her grandma handed her and took a tiny sip. Cutest little sip ever.

    “So, Nana, do you think if I wear the locket, it will keep Zedekiah away from me? Maybe if he sees it, he’ll leave again.”

    “No, Jessie, absolutely not. He might very well go after the locket this time. I think you’ll be safer without it. The man thinks you’re his beloved Rebecca. I don’t think he’ll harm you. As for the rest of the inhabitants of Bitterroot Crossing, now that Zedekiah is back, everyone is going to have to watch out for their own.”

Chapter10

    “Isn’t that sweet? You brought your own lunch in a cute, flowered bag,” the girl’s voice came from behind, but I recognized it instantly as Nick’s friend, Tina. I turned. She was flanked on each side by other girls, similarly pretty and similarly bad-tempered.

    “Yes, I packed it this morning.” I cursed my luck. I’d made it past the swamp without meeting up with any lovesick spirits and through the entire morning without seeing this girl, but now, here in the restroom, I was cornered. I’d only come in to wash my hands before heading to the lunchroom. I walked to the sink and placed my lunch bag on the tile. She lunged forward and grabbed it just as she’d grabbed off my hood the day before.

    Tina ripped open the bag. My apple leapt out and rolled across the bathroom floor, stopping to rest against the bottom of the trash can. She rummaged through the rest of it.

    “I’m happy to give you one of my grandmother’s pumpkin muffins. They’re very tasty.” My mom had always told me to meet cruelty head-on with kindness because kindness always won the day, but I’d tried the kindness tact with Tina yesterday, and it didn’t seem to do the trick. Looking at the way the girl pursed her mouth and scrunched up her nose at my muffin offer made me confident that Tina was about to put a final end to my mom’s theory.

    Tina laughed as she pulled out a napkin-wrapped muffin. She took a whiff of the muffin which was rich with cloves and nutmeg. “I think your muffins smell like crap.” Now her friends laughed as well.

    “That’s a shame. Most people enjoy their fragrance.” I glanced around the restroom. “Perhaps it’s because we’re standing in a bathroom.”

    “
Perhaps
, or perhaps it’s because they’re crap. And you know where crap belongs.” She kicked open a bathroom stall and sent the entire contents of my lunch bag into the toilet. She wadded up the bag and threw it at me. “And stay away from my boyfriend, freak.”

    I watched them leave, picked up my apple, and threw it away. I shoved my flowered lunch bag into my school bag before continuing with my task of hand washing. Fortunately, Nana had tucked a five dollar bill into my pocket this morning in case I needed it. I was rather hungry, so I decided to try the cafeteria food. After all, how bad could it be?

    The cafeteria made the horrid classrooms look quaint. It smelled oddly of a mixture of cleaning fluid, rancid grease, and ketchup. White metal tables sat in rows on top of an equally white tile floor, the only difference being that the floor had a lot of food crumbs, wrappers, and shoe dirt. The table tops were not much cleaner upon closer inspection. A line seemed to be forming at the right side of the room. Students were swinging grayish-green trays while they chatted and waited to get to the counter with the food selection.

    I picked up a tray and joined the line. Very few people had spoken to me. Most had just stared openly at me like now in the lunch line.

    “I thought I saw you with a lunch bag today.” It was a now familiar voice, the only friendly voice I’d encountered so far, and a voice that somehow always managed to make my hands tremble.

    I smiled back at Nick. He looked gloriously handsome today in a black t-shirt and jeans. I glanced around to see if wretched Tina was in view. She was nowhere in sight. “I still have the bag,” I said. “Unfortunately, at this moment, the contents, which were no doubt delicious, are floating down to the sewer where some lucky pack of rats will happen upon them.”

    “Sorry about that. I’ll bet I can guess who did it too.”

    “She’d rather if I didn’t talk to you.”

    Now he surveyed the room as if he was looking for her. “I have nothing to do with her actions, but I won’t blame you if you don’t want to talk to me. I’ll be totally bummed, but I’ll understand.”

    “You’re the only person worth talking to here at school. I suppose I’ll put up with her threats.” We moved several steps closer to the food warming trays. None of the smells were making my mouth water. “However, I think I’ll keep a closer watch on my lunch bag from now on.”

    “People around here just don’t know how to react to strangers. Even though you’ve lived in Bitterroot all your life, you technically fall into that category. And I have no idea why I’m defending them at all. They are morons. And now I’ll shut up and stop babbling like a moron.”

    “Please, don’t stop babbling. You’re the only person who’s talked to me all morning. Actually, that’s not true. Tina and I had a nice chat in the bathroom about my grandma’s pumpkin muffins, the ones the rats are snacking on at this moment.”

    I moved over to the long silver counter where the food was displayed. It was hard to recognize what some of it was. I stopped in front of the first warming tray and stared down at what I was almost certain purported to be macaroni and cheese. I glanced up at Nick. He shook his head so I moved on. There were tuna sandwiches, premade and wrapped in cellophane. I took one figuring they couldn’t destroy the taste of a tuna sandwich too badly.

    Nick lowered a bowl of chocolate pudding onto my tray. “You look like a girl who loves chocolate, and this pudding is actually decent.”

    “Thanks.” I stopped in front of the drink choices. There were many. Nick grabbed a soda.  He motioned to a table near the glass doors. “I’ll be over there if you feel like sitting with me.” He continued on to the cashier.

    Tray in hand and drink choice made, I walked toward the cashier. I heard a giggle that made my shoulders shrink up around my ears. Tina had apparently joined the lunch eaters. She stood at a nearby table talking animatedly to a group of girls. From the hand gestures she was making, it seemed she was recounting the lunch in toilet incident. She was obviously quite proud of her feat. I decided to ignore her, although I was no longer sure about sitting with Nick.

    I paid the lunch lady, turned, and headed to the nearest table trying to walk as smoothly as possible. Before I could stop my forward motion, a foot jutted in front of me. My tray flew from my hands and I fell face first toward the ugly tile floor. I shut my eyes and braced for the pain, but hands grabbed both my arms a split second before my hands and face slapped the floor. A loud, simultaneous gasp sucked through the room like a giant vacuum. There were several shrill screams, and I heard pairs of feet pounding toward the exit.

    For a moment, I wondered if I’d been knocked out and was only dreaming that strong hands held me. I stared straight at a granola bar wrapper that was just inches from my nose and then the hands lifted me upright.