Jade Moon (Celestial War Book 1) (4 page)

In Trouble, Again

A line of grim-faced adults awaited my return to school that morning.

Mr. Beuterbaugh towered at one end of the firing squad looking exactly like one of those guys who used to pick up dead bodied during the plague. All he needed was a wooden cart piled high with bodies as he shouted, ‘Bring out yer dead.’

Next to the plague-man was trollish Mrs. Louie in a chunky wool skirt, cheshire cat grin on her smug face. Then blond Mrs. Foster, who looked just as prim as usual in a pretty pink dress and matching headband. Next was vice-principal Ransom, looking incongruously jolly, slightly bemused.

Last in line was Mr. Silver, looking furious. He was the only one I really cared about and my heart skipped a beat. They could throw me in detention for the rest of the year for all I cared, but the thought of Mr. Silver mad at me made my gut drop right into my boots.

They stood next to my locker. Other students moved past them, instinctively avoiding their gaze. They could tell the proverbial crap was about to hit someone’s fan and they did not want to be in the way.

I saw the execution squad from the end of the hall and slowed my steps. Should I turn and run? Could they track me down at home? What would happen if I just never came back to school again? Should I flee to Belize? Then I realized I was being a moron. What’s the worst they could do to me? Had I actually even done anything wrong other than sneaking into the shed?

“Ms. Dae,” Mr. Beuterbaugh began.

“Ms. Dae did not do what you claim, Carl.” Mr. Silver interrupted and I let out a breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding. He was mad at them, not me. My shoulders dropped from the release of tension. Relief washed down to my toes.

“What do they think I did?” I asked Mr. Silver.

Mr. Beuterbaugh stepped forward and leaned down so we were face to face. His blue eyes were watery, red-rimmed. “I don’t think, Harper Dae, I know that you broke into the school last night. I know, Harper Dae, that you destroyed a section of our library. We have you on video outside the school last night.” He stood up and held up a triumphant finger. “After your little delusion in the library last month, it makes perfect sense.”

“But,” I tried to protest but the principal just kept talking.

“What I don’t know is if you meant to be destructive or if you really are just off balance. Perhaps you really do believe that you were seeking some poor tortured soul, in which case I should recommend that you be sent for counseling. However, your sneaking about, your defiant behavior, suggests a more nefarious purpose.”

“Nefarious purpose,” I repeated.

“Yes, it means ill-intentioned.”

“I…I know what nefarious means, Mr. Beuterbaugh. I just can’t believe you think I trashed the library. That’s the only place here I even like.”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say.

Mrs. Louie came at me, finger wagging, “How dare you, young lady. You should know better! You do not mouth off to your principal. I saw you sneaking around in that library. I don’t know what you were after, but I hope you found it last night. Because you will never go to that library again.”

Mr. Silver’s gasp was slightly louder than my own.

“But,” I tried to speak.

“No but. I saw the security video. You sneaking around the building like a ne’er-do-well. The janitor says someone broke into his shed. And then the library is destroyed.” She was working herself up into a full rage.

“Not destroyed, Irene.” Mr. Silver stepped between me and Mrs. Louie. “Someone was clearly looking for something. But it will be easy to set straight.”

Face turning deep red, Mrs. Louie practically shouted, “Walls were torn out! Walls, Martin!”

What the hell was going on? Who would destroy a high school library?

I tried one last time, “I did come here last night, but it was to get something from my locker.” Being accused of something I didn’t do filled me with righteous anger and I was almost shouting, “There was blood all over the shed!”

Vice principal Santa, Mr. Ransom, let out a little clucking sound with a concerned look on his face. As though I was saying something so crazy they might have to commit me soon.

Mrs. Forster spoke up, which kind of surprised me. “Listen Harper. You expect us to believe that you came here at the wee hours of the morning just to get something from your locker? Yet, then you tell us that there is…blood in the shed? Why would you break in to the shed if not to break into the school. You’re not helping your cause.” She shook her head, imploring me to stop talking. I think she actually wanted to help.

“Whatever,” I threw up my hands. “For the record, I didn’t do it. I was here, but I didn’t see anyone else and I certainly didn’t break into the school and trash my favorite place.”

With that, I gave up. I could even see why they assumed it was me. Of course the school had security cameras. Probably dumb not to think of that. At least they hadn’t seen Raf. Who knows how he would have handled the firing squad that morning?

The bell rang but the hall was already empty. No one was hanging out around that many pissed off adults.

“Of course it’ll be detention for you Miss Harper, until I can set in motion your suspension.” Mr. Beuterbaugh pointed down the hall toward the detention room then stormed off.

The rest of them followed like he was the pied piper. Only Mr. Silver remained behind.

“Listen to me, Harper.” He had a strained look on his face. I realized it was fear.

Freak out time.

“Did you read my book?”

“What? Not yet. I really did come here last night to get it from my locker.”

“Damn,” he said to himself. “Get it and keep it to yourself. Don’t read it while you’re at school. Things are starting to happen and I want you safe. Suspension is probably the best option. That way you can stay home for at least a day. Grab the book and go!”

He trundled off down the hall. I stood there, mouth hanging open. Nothing made sense but I did as he said. Spun my combo lock, grabbed his book, tucking it down into my bag before slinking off to the detention room to see what thrilling adventure would come next.

***

Yet again, I had nothing to read since Mr. Silver told me to keep his book hidden. I resorted to reading glue labels and wandering around the lonely detention room. At lunch time, Mrs. Louie leaned in and said, “Mr. Ransom wants to see you in his office.” She pursed her lips at me, a silent rebuke, then turned away without another word.

As vice principal, Mr. Ransom’s office was even smaller than Mr. Beuterbaugh’s, but much nicer. One wall was lined with carved wooden masks. Some looked African but other’s reminded me of Central American figures, gapping maws and hollow eyes. One was definitely Asian though I didn’t know enough about that part of the world to tell where, exactly, it came from.

Mr. Ransom sat at his desk, a very cool, black-wood thing carved with what looked like ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs. Behind him were photos of Mr. Ransom, plump and smiling, all over the world. 

“Wow, Mr. Ransom, you’ve been everywhere,” I said as I sat down in the plastic chair he gestured toward.

“Not everywhere, Ms. Dae,” he winked. I wondered if he just winked at everyone all the time.

“I would love to regale you with tales of my travels, but sadly we have much more serious things to discuss.”

He passed a stack of papers to me.

“This is the paperwork for your formal punishment. I’m not sure if you did this or not, but you’ve got yourself a day of suspension. Teachers will give you your make-up work when you come back on Thursday.”

“So, I’m just supposed to stay home tomorrow?”

“That’s right.”

“Okay.” I slid the paperwork into my bag, trying to figure out exactly how suspension was a punishment. Hell, if I’d known I would just get to stay home, I might have dome something to get in trouble long ago.

“I asked you in here because I need to call a parent and officially notify them of your suspension.”

I swallowed. Mom had told me to keep my head down. More proof I do nothing half-assed.

“Have a seat, Ms. Dae. Let’s do this.” He picked up the phone and dialed, giving me a half-smile, half-grimace.

“Marian Dae? Yes, hello this is vice-principal Ransom at Langston High School. No, no, Harper is fine. She’s right here. Yes, alright.” He put his hand over the phone. “She wants to, um, hear your voice, before she talks to me.”

Mr. Ransom had a strange look on his face. Like my mom really said something perplexing. Maybe something a little insane.

I took the phone. “Mom?”

“Harper, are you alright!” her voice rose to shrill. Panic evident.

“Mom, I’m totally fine. Please calm down.” I blushed, glancing up at Mr. Ransom with an apology on my face.

He watched, somewhat concerned.

Mom blew out a long puff of air. “Alright, sorry sweetheart. I just…what’s this about then?

“Well, I got suspended.”

“You what?” Sharp anger replaced the shrill panic. I think I preferred shrill.

“I didn’t do what they think I did. But I was here last night when something bad happened.”

Mr. Ransom was gesturing for the phone but I ignored him.

“You went to school? Last! Night!” she screamed the last two words. I decided just to hand the phone back to Mr. Ransom.

I could hear her shouting while he winced, holding the phone away from his ear until she stopped.

He finally interjected, “Mrs. Dae. Yes, yes….I understand, yes.” She was talking loud and fast.

Slowly his eyebrows rose and he looked at me across the desk with a clear mixture of pity and discomfort.

He listened for a very, very long time as I sunk further and further into my seat.

“Yes, ma’am, I understand completely.” He hung up and gave me another pitying look. “Well, that was….interesting. But I’ve done due diligence and notified her. She was…rather fervent in her concern for your well being. Let’s call that done. Go ahead back to detention until the last bell. We will see you on Thursday.”

He winked as I left.

Mr. Ransom really must just wink at everything.

Back in detention, I closed my eyes, thinking about home. I remembered those first few days when I didn’t know anyone, didn’t understand how anything worked. Just like now.

Mayor Rabbit

We arrived in Belize at the end of rainy season. Mr. Ek picked us up at the airport in a beat up old van. Everything was hot and damp and smelled of rot. After an unbearable, jolting ride, we stepped from the stuffy van into the middle of nowhere.

On the side of that remote gravel road, I saw the jungle for the first time.

Something about the jungle forces you to question your own reality. There is no certainty in a place that shifts and tilts beneath you, sounds of death constantly on your ears. The rustle of a poisonous pit viper striking from the dry leaves. The chuff of a jaguar right behind you. The squealing of the peccary, wild boars that will shred you with their sharp tusks. Hell, even the turkeys in Belize could kill you.

As a little girl I was convinced that mystical beasts wandered the jungle. That wondrous and terrible things could happen among the tangles of shadow and dark caverns exhaling cool, musty air. In the jungle it is easy to wonder if magic might actually exist in that primeval place.

Despite the uncertainty of the jungle, San Pedro quickly felt like home thanks to Mr. Ek and his tiny schoolhouse among the sacred Ceiba trees. From his small hut with an old chalk board and lizards on the walls I was introduced to the joy of books. With no school nearby, Mr. Ek guided me through the complex and fantastical worlds accessible only through literature. Letting me follow my fancy, Mr. Ek would disappear for a few days only to return with a bag full of new books, everything from Dickens to Le Guin.

After lessons, he would tell stories, almost always about Mayor Rabbit, the cleverest, and sometimes cruelest creature of the jungle.

My favorite story was the tale of rains from a rabbit sky.

“Clever rabbit was starving.” Mr. Ek stood at the front of the small classroom. Though I was the eldest of the village kids, I still secretly loved when he told us stories. “Rabbit went to Mother Moon and asked her for food. She agreed to provide Rabbit with a delicious garden full of squash and corn if he would bring her the skins of five animals. A talented musician, Rabbit came up with a plan.”

As he spoke, magic flowed from Mr. Ek’s mouth, story coming alive like watching a movie. “Mayor Rabbit climbed up Sacred Tree where Falcon sat. ‘Falcon,’ Rabbit said, ‘why don’t I play a song for you?’ Falcon was lonely and agreed, and so Rabbit began playing the drum. Poor Falcon didn’t realize that Rabbit’s drum was magic. Falcon began dancing, and couldn’t stop. Rabbit drummed so quickly that Falcon jerked and flailed until his own skin began to shed. Eventually, Falcon’s beautiful feathers fell to the ground and Rabbit snatched them up and ran away.

“Next, Rabbit traveled along the Green River until he found Jaguar. ‘Jaguar,’ Rabbit said, ‘why don’t I play a song for you?’ Jaguar agreed and soon Rabbit forced him to dance out of his beautiful golden pelt. Rabbit found Snake hiding under Struggle Rock and played his drum, forcing Snake to dance from his scaly skin. Rabbit found Turkey at the base of Witz Mountain and played his drum, forcing her to dance from her emerald plumage. Finally, Rabbit found Deer at the top of Rainbow Falls, and played his drum, forcing Deer to dance his antlers off.

“With all five pelts, Rabbit called down Mother Moon who looked on in horror. ‘You have done as I asked, gathering the skin of Falcon, Jaguar, Snake, Turkey, and Deer. To fill your own belly, you have left them to die,’ she said. ‘But it’s what you asked of me!’ Mayor Rabbit insisted. ‘Yes, with the hope that you would refuse, for what I asked you to do was cruel and selfish. As punishment, I will take you with me. I can no longer trust you to remain here without supervision.’ And so, Mother Moon took Rabbit with her to the sky, which is why you can see the rabbit in the moon to this day.”

Ek looked into my eyes. “By being selfish, Rabbit hurt everyone, and no one got what they needed.”

I laughed at the memory. Clever Rabbit stories were not exactly subtle, but the ideas were very powerful — make sure your actions are for the good of everyone, not just yourself. The Rabbit Sky was the term people used for the sky during a drought, selfish and cruel. Rains from a rabbit sky are useless, barely dampen the earth when a deluge is needed. A selfish rain.

The last bell rang, breaking me from my reverie. I missed home with a longing that rode in my heart like a stone.

***

I stood up, stiff and bored out of my mind.

Heading out to the busses, my heart did a little cha cha at the sight of Raf on the curb waiting for me.

I meandered over and sat down next to him, knowing I would miss the bus.  Not really caring.

“Heard you got in trouble.” He stared out at nothing, chewed on his lower lip for a second.

“Yeah, suspended.”

“For the shed? Trespassing?” he seemed confused.

“Nope, someone trashed the library last night. Sounds like someone was searching for something. Tore down walls even.”

“Whoa, crazy,” he said. “Think it had to do with what you heard?”

“Hard for me not to connect them. I hear someone being hurt. A few weeks later someone is searching the place.”

The busses pulled away leaving us alone in the parking lot.

I realized maybe he’d come to find out if he was next on their list. “They didn’t see you on the security footage.”

“Yeah, I figured if they didn’t haul me in, they must’ve missed me. I mostly just came to see if you were okay.”

“You did?” I knew I should be calm about his concern, but the fact that someone actually cared felt damn good. “Thanks, Raf. It’s been a really crappy few months.”

“Sure. You know, I never asked what the hell you were doing on the roof last night.”

I blushed a little. “You’re gonna laugh.”

“Try me.” He stared out at the traffic passing the school.

“I was going to break in because I forgot a book in my locker.”

Raf turned and looked directly at me, grey eyes crinkling, corners of his mouth trembling. I watched him fight it, but the laugh could not be contained. He let out a breathy chuckle.

“You were right. I laughed,” he smiled.

I punched him on the shoulder.

“You want to go get some dinner? There’s a place a few miles away that has great Thai food.”

I looked straight down at my chest to make sure my heart hadn’t leapt right out. I wanted say ‘Yes, I want to get dinner with you so much!’ then maybe jump up and down a little bit. Instead, as casually as possible, I said, “Sure, sounds good.”

My teeth were already chattering a little in the cold and I didn’t have the heart to admit I’d never even really heard of Thai food before. I also only had twelve dollars in my pocket and sincerely hoped I could find something on the menu for less. But what the hell.

“Bee’s nuts it’s cold. I don’t suppose you have a car?” I looked out at the almost empty parking lot.

He looked embarrassed, “I do, but I lost my driving privileges.”

“What’d you do?”

“That’s just it, I didn’t do anything. But our car was all banged up and my parents blamed me. I think someone hit it while it was in the parking lot here or something and I just didn’t notice.”

“Well bummer, guess we have to walk it then. It’s freaking cold here.”

He nodded.

We walked together all the way into town.

***

The restaurant was in an upscale strip mall. Ivy encircled the homey front window. Thousands of white christmas lights hung from the ceiling making the entire place glow with warmth. Inside, it was toasty and the air smelled like sweet coconut. I almost cried with joy.

“Rafael Aracan, I haven’t seen you in years? How is your mother?” the plump, very Italian looking hostess came out from behind the counter and pulled him in for a hug.

“She’s great Mrs. Wattana,” he said, voice muffled by her shoulder against his face.

She took a step back, still grasping his shoulders. The woman’s silvery-white hair was barely contained in a tousled bun. Her golden peasant dress and laugh-lined face made her look like the kind of woman you want to crawl into their lap so they could tell you everything was okay. She looked at me with a warm smile.

“Is this a new friend?” she asked.

“This is Harper. She’s new to the area.”

“Nice to meet you Harper.” She reached out and shook my hand. “You’ve found yourself the best young man to show you around.”

“Thanks.” I smiled back.

“Let me get you two a table.” She led us to a little nook in the back and handed us menus before giving Raf a loving hair tousle. Which is hard to do with a springy thatch of purple hair.

I looked down at the menu and knew I was in trouble. I’d heard of curry, but a lot of it was in what I assumed was Thai. Lot’s of Tom this and Pad that. I stared, hoping that it might begin to make sense if I read the words enough times.

Raf was watching me and I had that horrible moment where I knew the gig was up. He would now see that I was some back-country bumpkin, raised in the jungle, with no idea how the real world worked.

“You had Thai food before?” he asked.

“Not really,” I hedged.

Raf laughed at me for the second time that night. “Harper, you know it’s totally cool that you lived in the jungle, right? Much more cool that knowing how to order Thai food, which might be my only real skill.”

“No way, Raf.  I saw that drawing you did. That is an amazing skill.”

Raf’s smile slammed down like a wall. “Yeah, whatever. The curries are my favorite. Let’s just get a few things and you can try them all.”

I blinked at the rapid transformation. I had almost forgotten that I found him on the roof the night before talking about killing himself. Clearly Raf had issues. Thankfully, I didn’t have any. Ha ha.

“Sorry, didn’t know your art was off limits, Raf. That sounds like a great plan but I don’t have much money.” I pulled the crumpled bills out of my pocket.

“No worries, Harper. I’ve got dinner. In exchange, I want to know more about Belize. It really does sound cool.”

“Sure, what do you want to know?”

“Well, I guess, what was it like? Some people are saying you didn’t even go to school?”

“Yeah, there was no school nearby, but an old school teacher lived in the village so he just taught the kids. We sometimes met in a little building, but mostly he came by my house, gave me some books to read. He had a stack of workbooks for math and science. But we also did projects. Experiments. Real life math problems like figuring out the size of corn fields we would need to have enough food for the village. Mr. Ek was really great.” I smiled at the memory.

I realized that Mr. Silver reminded me a lot of Mr. Ek, which was probably why I liked him so much.

Raf seemed totally interested. “So, he just let you learn whatever you wanted?”

“Um, yeah he made me do some basics, trigonometry and some other stuff I wasn’t that into. But then we mostly read and talked about whatever I was interested in. I went on a politics kick so we did lots of international relations stuff. World governments, economics. Then I was on a Russian literature phase for a bit. Read Tolstoy and the classics plus some old science fiction. Did you know 1984 and Brave New World were both based on an old Russian science fiction novel called ‘We?’” I was feeling enthusiastic.

Raf had a strange look on his face.

“What?”

“Harper, seriously, I’ve never met anyone like you.”

I wasn’t sure how to take that.

“No, don’t stop. I want to know more about Belize. Did you have a house? Where did you get food? Was it scary living in the jungle?”

“We grew our food, or traded for it. We lived in a house made out of sticks and mud with a thatch roof. We had a few small buildings. One where we slept in hammocks and kept our stuff. Then an open sided kitchen that was off to the side, in case it caught on fire. Don’t want all your stuff to burn. Plus we had a covered sitting area where we could just hang out. All around a little patio.

“It was mostly really nice. Except in the rainy season, that was fairly miserable. Everything was always wet and smelled of mold.”

“And the people? You lived with a bunch of Belizeans? What are they like?”

“We were actually in a village with mostly Maya people.”

“Like the ancient Mayans that built the temples? I thought they mysteriously vanished or something?” Raf’s grey eyes were wide open.

“No way. There are millions of Maya people still there. Maya, not Mayan, that’s what you call the language.”

“Wow, that is totally cool. So what are Maya people like?”

I let out a snort, “They’re people Raf. Just like everyone. Some are nice, some mean, happy, grumpy, funny, bitter and, you know, people.”

He blushed and I felt bad.

“I guess that was a silly question. I think of people like that as, you know, cooler than us. Do they,” he paused, looking for the right word, “do they still sacrifice animals and stuff?”

Time for a real laugh, “No way. Everyone in San Pedro was Catholic, there was a little church in my village and everything.”

“Oh, I thought they were, um, you know…like ancient people.”

“Well, there were still things that aren’t typically Catholic. After we planted our fields every year, an H’man, what they call a shaman, would come out and do a blessing, with flowers and corn meal and burning incense. He would thank the four corners of the world and stuff, so that was more traditional Maya than Catholic.”

“Wow, totally cool.”  

Mrs. Wattana came back with a small man in tow. “Boon wanted to come say hi.”

Next to Mrs. Wattana, her husband looked wan and frail, though he shared the same warm smile. “Rafael, we’ve missed seeing you!” Raf got up and gave him a hug.

“Mr. Wattana, this is Harper. Harper, Mr. Wattana.” Raf introduced me.

Boon Wattana bowed. “A pleasure. You are always welcome here, Harper Dae.”

“Did you kids decide what you want?” Mrs. Wattana asked.

Raf ordered and wanted to talk more about Belize. “So, weren’t there wild animals? Wasn’t it dangerous?”

“Well, a little I guess, though no more than here.”

“So no jaguars or anything?”

“Oh sure, I’ve seen jaguars. But they aren’t going to attack you unless you’re a threat. So you just make sure you aren’t a threat. There were also aggressive, poisonous snakes, and killer pigs.” I paused, looking for a good story to impress Raf. “We also had an attack turkey terrorize our village for a while.”