Into the Shadows (11 page)

“I’m sorry, you know what I’m saying. You have more
life experience!” laughed Jason.

“Ah, yes, I see. Well, my answer to you would be to
always ask questions. It’s your life they’re making decisions
about. Being informed is the best thing to do. But I have to admit,
I am nervous about this list. No good has come from singling people
out. If you think back to some historical examples, there was the
McCarthy Era in the 1950s when Communists were rounded up and
harassed. We could even make comparisons to the Holocaust and the
roundups of the Jews during World War II. But I would hope our
government remembers the lessons learned during those times,” Dr.
Hasenpfeffer said.

The class was still discussing the debate as the
bell rang and they exited the classroom.

“I wish we were older and we could vote, or at least
be able to do something. If people let the government get away with
this, its just insanity!” raved Jason as they made their way down
the hall.

“Maybe it’ll be okay,” said Crystal. “I mean, if it
really does stop the terrorist attacks, I don’t know, maybe it’ll
be worth whatever trouble it causes.”

“See! That’s exactly it — selling out your freedom
for your security!” Jason snapped back. Crystal’s face fell.

“All right you two, save it for class tomorrow,”
said Paivi, pulling Jason toward the cafeteria. “I’ll catch you
later Crystal.”

She turned to Jason. “Look, clearly you feel
strongly about this, but you aren’t going to get people to see it
your way if you yell at them!”

“Don’t you feel the same way I do, Paivi? I didn’t
peg you for a sheep.” His words were sharp.

“I’m not a sheep! But nothing has even happened yet.
Besides, what can we do? The election is tomorrow. Let’s hope that
the people who do have a say will do something about it. Until
then, relax!” She spun angrily on her heel, looking over her
shoulder and stuck out her tongue.

Paivi joined Michaela at their lunch table.

“What’s his problem? He looked really mad,” observed
Michaela as she dug through her gigantic purse, looking for her
wallet.

“Ah, he’s just mad about that debate last night. You
know, politics and all that, nothing you would find too exciting,”
she said, watching Jason across the room at his lunch table, still
sporting a sour look.

“You are right about that, sister,” Michaela said,
finding the wallet. “Let’s go. I am starving! I hope they have my
favorite M&M cookies today! Yum!”

As they made their way through the line, Paivi could
see the tater tots arranged in a message.

SEE ME

Ugh, she thought.

Christian really seemed to have a thing for leaving
her messages in food. Couldn’t he just write her a note, or better
yet, talk to her like a normal person?

After she had finished her lunch and Michaela was
engaged in a very serious conversation over which football player
at the next table was the hottest, Paivi excused herself and made
her way over to Christian’s table. He noticed her walking over, and
told the guy next to him to move. He patted the seat, indicating to
Paivi that she should sit.

“Gee, thanks,” she said sarcastically. “So, you
wanted to see me?”

“Yeah, we need to get together this week, I was
thinking Wednesday at Al’s Café,” he said, not waiting for an
answer.

“I hate to break this to you, but I start basketball
today and I have practice every day this week after school. There’s
no way my mom will let me go out on a Wednesday night,” Paivi
responded.

“What about Saturday, then?” Christian asked through
a mouthful of tater tots.

“Yeah, I guess Saturday would be alright, but it
would have to be in the afternoon,” she answered.

“So, Saturday it is. Al’s, two o’clock.” Christian
looked satisfied. “Have you had any good dreams lately?”

He smiled.

“Very funny,” she said. “And no, I haven’t. See you
Saturday. And by the way, I do have a phone.” She grabbed a tater
tot off his plate and held it up to him before popping it into her
mouth. She stood up and headed back to her table, not looking
back.

* * *

Paivi’s first day of basketball tryouts had gone
very well. She’d hit a few good shots and done everything the
coaches had asked. At the end of the tryout, she was sore and all
her muscles ached, but it was a good ache. She was pretty satisfied
with her effort. Paivi went to bed early that night, completely
worn out. Her head barely hit the pillow before she drifted off
into a deep sleep.

Suddenly, she was walking down the hallway at
school. She looked down and noticed she was dressed for practice.
She entered the large gym, where groups of girls were practicing
out on the basketball courts. The freshman team coach, Ms. Jensen,
was talking with the head coach, Mrs. Espinosa. They both turned to
her as she walked up.

“I was just telling your coach that I’m afraid we’re
going to need you on varsity,” Mrs. Espinosa patted Paivi on the
shoulder. “My center just quit on me. I’ve seen you play. You look
perfect for the job. Now, I know it’s a lot to ask, and it’ll be
rough in the beginning, getting used to the speed of varsity. Are
you up for the challenge?”

“Oh my god, yes! Of course!” Paivi could hardly get
the words out; she was so excited.

The picture changed. There was a man standing on a
stage, but she couldn’t see his face. Music played and confetti
fell from somewhere up above. People cheered loudly, waving signs
bearing the name ‘Stevens.’

Paivi awoke suddenly with a gasp. She rolled over
and checked the clock. The neon green numbers showed 2:37. The
house was still, silent and dark.

She smiled to herself. She was going to be on
varsity! She had thought she would make the freshman team, but
varsity! This was unbelievable! She hugged the nearest teddy bear,
Mr. Stinky. She lay back down and rolled onto her side, snuggling
into her pillow. Her mind fell briefly on the other vision.

So the jerk wins, she thought. Maybe Crystal wasn’t
half wrong. Maybe the guy could at least stop the terrorists.

Paivi pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind,
closed her eyes, and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

The election came and went the following week with
Senator Stevens winning in a landslide. Aside from Dr.
Hasenpfeffer’s lively classroom discussions on the topic, life
returned to its usual concerns.

Paivi was more focused on basketball than anything
else. It was a few days before Coach Espinosa offered her a spot on
the varsity team. Paivi was relieved, but also nervous. She liked
the girls on the freshman team and she didn’t know any of the girls
on varsity.

Friday was her first day of practice with the
varsity girls. She had tried to take everything in but there was so
much to learn. The girls were working so hard; there wasn’t much
time for socializing.

Paivi found herself paired with Leyla Bianchi, a
junior forward, for a particularly challenging drill. Paivi had to
turn her back to Leyla, and then pivot around to catch a pass.
Leyla was supposed to tell her to turn to the right or left and
then throw the ball, which should meet her as she turned.

“Left,” Leyla called out, her voice echoing through
the gym.

Paivi swung to the left, but before she could
complete her turn, there was an explosion of pain in her face as
the basketball crashed into her nose. She flew straight backwards
onto the floor.

“Oops!” Leyla giggled, covering her mouth with her
hand. Shay Montgomery, the team’s point guard, joined her.

Her face throbbed making it difficult to open her
eyes. Blood dripped down from her nose and pooled into her cupped
hand.

“Paivi, are you bleeding?” Coach Espinosa ran over.
“Off to the trainer’s, let’s go.”

She helped Paivi up and pointed to the door of the
gym. Paivi looked back to see Leyla still talking to Shay and
laughing. Paivi glared at them and turned her back as she headed to
the training room. She felt the energy building up again, her anger
forcing it through her. She made no attempt to control it this
time. In the gym the girls let out a shriek as a light bulb burst,
raining glass onto the hardwood floor.

This is just the beginning, she thought to herself,
trying to keep the blood from running onto the floor.

Saturday morning’s practice was still unpleasant,
but at least it was not as physically painful. Her nose still ached
from the day before, and her eyes were slightly black underneath,
but Paivi didn’t want it to look like she was weak, or worse,
afraid of Leyla, so she tried not to shy away from any of the
drills.

Leyla Bianchi didn’t throw a ball in Paivi’s face,
but she made her presence known. When Leyla picked teams for a
scrimmage, she chose Paivi for her team, and then never put her
into the game. When Coach Espinosa noticed and subbed Paivi in,
Leyla made sure she never got the ball. Paivi could see she had no
supporters on the team. Leyla had a group of about five girls that
stuck to her like glue and the other teammates just ignored
her.

She was glad when practice was finally over. She
found that she was dreading meeting Christian less than she was
dreading Monday’s practice. It was a sunny November day and
unseasonably warm. Paivi decided to walk downtown — it was easier
than trying to explain to her parents who she was meeting. She
didn’t want to tell a complete lie, so she told her mother that she
was meeting Michaela at Al’s Café. It was the right place, just not
the right person. Besides, she didn’t mind walking when it was so
nice out. She felt a bit cagey and figured some fresh air would do
the trick.

As she walked through the neighborhood, she looked
at the houses as she passed. Every house looked slightly different,
one story, two stories, red, brown. Most were neat and tidy. Some
were a bit run down and looked out of place.

As she turned on to Grove Street she stopped in
front of a large Victorian house. It was known as the Butterman
Mansion and it was by far Paivi’s favorite house in all of St.
Andrew. The imposing three-story mansion sat in a large garden
surrounded by an ornate wrought iron fence. The house had been
expertly painted in shades of purple and blue, accenting the
delicate woodwork that made it resemble a gingerbread house. With a
sigh, she crossed over a busy street into St. Andrew’s
downtown.

Al’s Café was located in an old two-story brick
building that dated from 1871. It was located in St. Andrew’s
historic downtown and overlooked the Fox River. Paivi opened the
heavy wooden door and heard a jingle. The girl standing behind the
register looked up from a magazine she was reading.

“Hi! Welcome to Al’s. How many?” she asked with a
smile.

“Hi, I’m meeting a friend.” Paivi paused as she
scanned the downstairs dining room. There were a few couples
sitting at the tables, but no Christian.

“Blond guy?” asked the girl.

Paivi nodded.

“He’s upstairs.” She pointed to a staircase to the
left.

“Thanks!” Paivi went around a corner and headed up a
wide wooden staircase. As she entered the room, she could see
Christian sitting at a table next to the fireplace and in front of
one of the large windows. The room was large and airy with high
ceilings framed by elaborate wood trim. A fire crackled in the
stone fireplace, throwing shadows along the walls.

Aside from Christian, the room was nearly empty
except for a table of three very loud middle-aged ladies sitting at
the far end of the room and one very bored looking waitress.

Christian glanced up from the menu he was looking
at, his face brightening.

“Hi!” he said. “Did someone mug you on the way over?
Those are some nice black eyes.”

“Funny.” She took off her coat, hanging it on the
back of the chair. “It’s from practice. Apparently my teammates
don’t like me very much. Well, one, anyways.”

Paivi had been too embarrassed to tell her parents
about the incident with Leyla. She figured getting her parents
involved wouldn’t make the girls on the team like her any
better.

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow. “Which teammate in
particular?”

“Right, like you’re really interested. What are you
going to do, leave her a nasty message in her green beans?” she
snapped.

“Look, I know we’ve started off on the wrong foot,”
he began.

“You think?” She leaned back, folding her arms
across her chest and narrowing her black eyes.

“I want to make it up to you. If you tell me her
name, I’ll make sure that after Monday, she won’t bother you again
and everyone on the team will be nice.”

“I want to know what you’re going to do, first. I
don’t want this getting any worse.” She touched her nose gingerly.
“I don’t need any more black eyes.”

“Can you just trust me?”

“Um, so far, no,” Paivi replied.

“If I can do this though, then maybe you can trust
me?” He played with his silverware.

“Maybe. A little. But why won’t you tell me
anything?” She sat back, folding her arms over her chest.

“Let’s just say, I have ways of taking care of it,
and no one will know but me and this other person. In order to do
that, however, I would need a name.”

The waitress approached the table, pen and pad in
hand.

“What can I get for you?” She tapped her pen on the
pad.

“I’ll have an Oreo shake please,” answered Paivi,
without looking at the menu. It’s what she always ordered at Al’s,
they were famous for their shakes.

Christian ordered a cheeseburger and a chocolate
shake. The waitress headed off to put in their orders.

“So, are you going to give me her name?” Christian
asked.

“Alright, Leyla Bianchi. She’s a junior,” she
answered, fiddling with her napkin. She had mixed feelings about
this. She wanted Leyla to leave her alone, but she wasn’t sure she
wanted Christian to feel like he had won her over.