She Walks in Shadows (14 page)

I
would
feel bad for your sad demise, little seeker, I’m almost sure; Tully’s, even, his ancestry aside. But only if I were anyone but who I am.

Outside, the rain recedes, letting in daylight: bright morning, blazing gold-green through drooping leaves to call steam up from the sodden ground, raise cicatrice-blisters of moisture from Riverside’s walls. The fields glitter like spiderwebs. Emerging into it, I smile for the first time in so very long: lips, teeth, muscles flexing.
Myself
again, for all I wear another’s flesh.

Undefeated,
Maman.
Victory. I am your revenge and theirs. No one owns me, not anymore, never again. I am ... my own.

And so, my contract fulfilled, I walk away: into this fast, new, magical world, the future, trailing a thousand dark locks of history behind.

THE THING ON THE CHEERLEADING SQUAD

Molly Tanzer

“
BIBLE CAMP WAS
rad, Natalie! Coming together in God like that … at the end, we all made a pledge to live the Gospel after we went back into the world, where temptation and sin are everywhere. And you know what? I’m
really
going to try.” Veronica Waite tossed her mane of dark curls, revealing more of her new off-the-shoulder Esprit sweatshirt. “So, what did
you
do all summer?”

“I worked at the daycare at First Methodist,” mumbled Natalie, shoving her face into her faded Trapper Keeper. “I … wanted to earn some money.”

Veronica blushed. She should’ve remembered; her father had said something about Natalie working at the church.

Natalie’s family’s finances were often the subject of prayer meetings at First Methodist. Everyone talked about it. It was probably mortifying.

“How did that go?” Veronica asked, trying to sound encouraging. She and Natalie had been friends they were kids. True, they’d grown apart during their first two years of high school, but they’d still seen a lot of one another, both being flyers on the JV cheerleading squad. “I bet it was great, huh?”

Natalie shut her Trapper Keeper with more force than necessary. “The other aids were nice, but the kids were pretty rotten.”

“‘Suffer little children, for of such is the kingdom of heaven,’” quoted Veronica piously.

Natalie flushed. “I didn’t mean like that,” she snapped. “You weren’t there, all right? Cleaning up puke, and stopping them from fighting and whatever. It was just babysitting, even if it was in a church.”

“Take a chill pill.” Veronica rolled her eyes as she toyed with the cross that hung around her neck on a delicate chain of real gold. “What did you need the stupid money for, anyways? Prom’s not ‘til next year.”

“Well, Varsity cheerleaders have to travel and stuff,” said Natalie.

“Oh ….”

“What?” Natalie was getting super worked up; she looked like she might cry. “I’m a reserve, aren’t I? I’ll be coming to all the practices … I might have to sub, if someone gets injured.”

“I wasn’t thinking about that,” said Veronica quickly. Natalie hadn’t made Varsity, but Miss Van Helder was too kind to keep her on the JV squad. “You’re right.”

The bus slowed. Veronica craned her neck; this was her cousin Asenath’s stop. The doors opened with a squeal, then shut with another, but in between the two, Asenath didn’t get on.

“I hope Aseanth’s okay,” mused Veronica, grateful to have something to talk about besides cheerleading.

“Shouldn’t you know?” From her tone, it seemed Natalie was still sore.

“Daddy and Uncle Ephraim don’t talk much,” admitted Veronica. “I only see Asenath at school.”

“Well,
whatever.
I’m sure she just got a ride. We’ll see her at practice.”

True — Asenath wouldn’t miss cheerleading practice. She didn’t just love it; she was the best. She’d been the star of JV since their first week on the squad and would probably be Team Captain next year. And it wasn’t just because she was an amazing flyer in spite of her height. She worked hard, and made sure to be friendly and kind to everyone.

Privately, Veronica felt her cousin’s aspirations to popularity were a result of the rumors that haunted her family — her mother had left when she was just a girl and her father was a real weirdo. Some said Ephraim Waite was a Satanist; others said he was just a creep. Victoria’s daddy wouldn’t elaborate on any of it. He just said that Uncle Ephraim had ‘chosen his path,’ implying strongly it was one that led straight to Hell.

Which, of course, meant Uncle Ephraim wasn’t the kind of father who gave his daughter rides to school. Veronica fell into an uneasy silence until they pulled into the Miskatonic High parking lot.

There must really be a first time for everything,
thought Veronica, for there was Uncle Ephraim’s blue BMW. It was strange, though — peering out the window, Veronica saw a boy and some dirty-looking punk girl with blue hair leaning on the driver’s side window, laughing and smoking cigarettes. The boy leaned in for a kiss.

“Oh,
gross
,” she said, disgusted. “Who are those losers? They shouldn’t be doing …
that
. I’m going to talk to them.”

“Suit yourself,” said Natalie, joining the throng of students clambering off the bus without a backwards glance. Veronica was surprised — she had no idea what the girl was so upset about.

The fresh air of Miskatonic High’s parking lot was a welcome change from the stuffy school bus, but Veronica made a show of coughing and waving her hand in front of her face as she approached the hooligans practically grinding on one another, pressed against Uncle Ephraim’s car. The girl had at least seven rings in her left ear and was wearing a plaid skirt obviously from Goodwill. It was pilling and had some prep school’s crest close to the hem. The dark-haired guy was wearing a Members Only jacket and Wayfarers. When he finally came up for air, Veronica cleared her throat loudly.

“Do you know whose car that is?” She put as much distain into her voice as she possibly could.

“Yeah,
mine
,” said the boy, lowering his Wayfarers with one long, smooth finger. Then he laughed. “Oh, hey, Veronica.”

It couldn’t be — and yet, it was! Veronica had no words as she realized the boy was not actually a boy, but her cousin Asenath. Over the summer, she’d cut her hair and bought herself a new wardrobe, but it was definitely her.

Veronica felt heat rising to her cheeks. Asenath looked great. If she’d been a boy, Veronica would have called her a hunk —
dreamy
, even.

But she wasn’t a boy. And while the Bible might not be all that specific on this kind of issue, her camp counselors had made it clear there was no uncertainty about the matter whatsoever.

“Asenath, what gives?” asked Veronica, wrinkling her nose. “You look
weird
.”

“And I was just going to say how nicely you’d filled out over the summer.”

“Don’t be obscene. Were you kissing her?”

“Jealous?” Asenath winked at her as the bell rang. “Better run. Wouldn’t want to be late.”

“What about you?” Asenath had always been a perfect student.

“You only live once,” said Asenath and went back to sucking face.

Veronica was shocked, but the pair were ignoring her, so her only option was to retreat, embarrassed and furious. Who did Asenath think she was? What she was doing, it wasn’t right — socially, academically, or spiritually. Veronica felt a brief flash of guilt. Asenath had applied for the Bible Camp scholarship, as her father wouldn’t send her, but Veronica had told her father Dougie Smithers was a better fit. But Dougie Smithers had ignored her all summer, and now ….

Vexed, Veronica threw herself down into a random desk just as the late bell rang, barely paying attention to the teacher, who began calling roll. Her fingers snaked up to the chain around her neck. The cross felt hard and cold under her fingertips.

Her daddy always told her to pray at times of great confusion. Veronica asked Jesus to guide her, but no answer came.

Asenath was in Gifted, so Veronica hadn’t expected to see her during the school day — but it did surprise her when, after school, Ms. Van Helder came onto the field and told everyone that Asenath had quit the team.

“What? Why?” asked Beth Townsend, the Varsity captain. “Is she okay?”

“She’s taking on a different role this year, is all,” said Ms. Van Helder. The woman seemed amused by the team’s dismay. “Don’t worry. She’ll still be involved with school spirit. But enough chit-chat. Go warm up. Fifty jumping jacks, then get to stretching. The Warriors are playing Kingsport in a month!”

After its awkward beginning, practice actually went okay. Everyone was eager to get back to drills and to discuss routines during breaks. Beth agreed that Veronica’s idea of using “Girls Ain’t Nothing but Trouble” would be totally fresh for a halftime performance and Ms. Van Helder said she’d consider it.

Towards the end, Ms. Van Helder had them try some basic stunting. Veronica was one of the more experienced JV flyers, so some of the veteran Varsity bases agreed to try an elevator with her. “One, Two, Three, Up!” they cried, pushing her skyward. As she rose, Veronica tensed her abs and thighs, sweating and trembling; keeping her focus and her balance, she lifted her hands, only to feel the spots wobble.

“Holy crap!” said one. Veronica felt her feet moving apart as the bases lost their concentration.

“Let me down!” she called, not enthusiastic about the prospect of an injury on literally her first day.

That got their attention and Veronica felt her feet touch solid ground without an incident. Once she was on the grass, she saw just what had caused the commotion.

It was Asenath.

Veronica’s cousin seemed determined to make a spectacle of herself this year. Instead of wearing Miskatonic’s green-and-black Varsity warm-ups, she had donned the school mascot’s uniform. Her dark hair was hidden by a Centurion’s galea, her chest behind a breastplate. She carried a shield and sword. Greaves glistened on her shins, but her long thighs were exposed — the segmented skirt, intended for a boy, was almost indecently short on her.

“She looks amazing,” observed Beth. To Veronica’s chagrin, the rest of the team seemed to agree, almost falling all over themselves in their haste to greet her.

“As I said, Asenath will still be promoting school spirit this year,” said Ms. Van Helder. “Since Ernie graduated, the position was open, and Asenath’s enthusiasm and athletic ability made her application most impressive.”

“Thanks!” said Asenath. “Should be fun, everyone. Miz V and I already talked about how it might be cool if I did some stunts in this getup. What do you think?”

“That would be super!” enthused Amanda Slider.

“Awesome!” agreed Natalie. That bitch needed to shut up. She wasn’t even on the Varsity team.

“I don’t know,” said Veronica, raising her voice a little. The squad quieted down, surprised. “If she’s not coming to practice, stunting could be a safety issue.”

“Ms. Van Helder thinks it’s fine.” Asenath’s cool tone just further stoked the flames of Veronica’s temper.

“Ms. Van Helder won’t be lifting you,” she snapped.

“What’s your deal, Veronica?” asked Asenath.

“What’s
your
deal?” she shrieked. “What on earth happened to you over the summer? You’ve changed — and
not
for the better.”

A hideous sound coming from the direction of the bleachers distracted them all. Veronica turned and saw an old man sitting in the stands, doubled over laughing. Though the day was warm, he was dressed in a heavy overcoat and he clutched a Miskatonic High pennant in his withered hand.

“Shit,” swore Asenath. “Sorry … I told Dad he could come if he kept quiet.”

Veronica took a second look, shocked — her uncle was unrecognizable. She’d never have known it was him; he looked as though he’d aged years over just a few months, or as if he’d suffered some terrible illness. “I’d better ….”

“Do what you need to do,” said Ms. Van Helder, glaring at Veronica for some reason. Asenath took off toward the bleachers, her long legs covering the ground within moments. She confronted the old man, then led him away.