Whispers in the Dark (5 page)

At the Corner Tavern, I chalked my pool cue as I watched Justin sink shot after shot.
There were two young women shooting pool at the next table. I could tell Justin was
trying to show off in front of them, even though I didn't think they were paying
us any attention.

“You're gonna learn today, son,” Justin said, cockily, and took a swig of his beer.
“Can't nobody touch me on this pool table. King Kong ain't got nothing on me! Green,
side pocket.”

He sank another shot.

“You know that's all luck, right?” I tell him.

“Luck? What's luck, got to do, got to do with it?” Justin sang, mimicking Tina Turner.

“Where's Greedy?” I said, checking my watch. “I told Lea I wouldn't be gone too long.”

“Oh, I didn't know you had a curfew, Cinderella,” Justin joked. “Look, there he is
now.”

“Took you long enough,” I said to Greedy as he walked up.

“Yeah, yeah,” he responded. “I'm telling y'all, man. I've got to find another job.
Those people are driving me crazy.”

“You smell like you've been working all day,” Justin joked, waving his hand in front
of his nose. “I thought you liked that warehouse job.”

“No! I hate it there,” Greedy explained. “The people are cool, but those managers.
It's like they don't like to see no one talking or laughing. It's just work, work,
work. Come on, Adrian. You've got to hook me up with a job at the school. I can be
an assistant football coach or something. You know how much I love football.”

“Now, you know it's going to be hard for you to get a job there,” I told Greedy.
“No offense, but those people check everything. I was telling Justin earlier how
many references I had to get, and interviews. And then even today, the assistant
principal drilled me, asking what high school and college I went to, and I know it's
going to be just as hard for you.”

“Yeah, but you're already in there,” Greedy said. “Just put in a word for me.”

“I'm telling you, man, you have to have a college degree to even get your application
looked at.” I shook my head. “There are people with PhDs that are trying to get in
there.”

“I'm sure I don't have to have a college degree to be an assistant football coach,”
Greedy said, defensively. “You know I've been working with the kids at the Y for
the past two summers. If I can just get in front of the right person, I'm sure I
can get a job there. I'm telling you, I know how to talk to people.”

“Well, Greedy, since you know how to talk to people,” Justin started, “Get one of
these girls' numbers behind us.”

Greedy looked at the two women who were shooting pool.

“Those two over there?” Greedy asked.

“Yeah,” Justin smiled. “And if you can't get one of their numbers, then you have
to buy the next round.”

“Okay. That's a bet,” Greedy agreed. “And after I get the number, Adrian has to give
my resume to someone at the school.”

“Hey, man. That's y'all's bet,” I told them. “I'm not in it.”

“Who cares,” Justin said. “It's not like he's going to get their numbers anyway.”

“Okay.” Greedy smiled, up for the challenge. “Watch and learn, boys.” Greedy was
always trying to prove that he could get more numbers than we did, so we always pointed
out girls for him to talk to. He usually got shot down, but that didn't stop him
from trying.

Both of the girls looked Hispanic. One was smaller, with long, dark hair, and dressed
in jeans with a plain white T-shirt. The other one was a heavyset blonde with shorts
and a tank top.

“Ladies, ladies,” Greedy said, walking to their pool table. “You're doing it all
wrong. I couldn't help but notice the way you both have been holding your cue sticks,
and it's not the right way.”

“It's not?” the smaller girl asked.

“No, not at all,” Greedy said, reaching for her cue stick. “Here, let me show you.
See, it's best to hold the stick here—that way, you'll have more power when you hit
it.”

“And you've been watching us this whole time hold it wrong?” she asked.

“I have.”

“Well, you must not have been watching close enough, because that's exactly how I've
been holding it!” The girl smiled and went back to her shot.

Justin and I cringed after we heard that. I knew Greedy was embarrassed, because
he was looking over at us.

Greedy smiled and looked back over at the girl getting ready to make her shot. She
stretched across the top of the table. It looked like she was aiming to have her
cue ball hit one of her object balls into a bottom corner pocket.

“You'll never make that shot,” Greedy warned her.

“Why not?” the girl asked him.

“Because you're stretched all the way across the table,” Greedy explained. “You don't
want to stretch for a shot if it's out of your reach.”

“I've made it before. I'm sure I can make it again,” the girl insisted.

“Okay, okay,” Greedy said, and crossed his arms.

The girl went for the shot and missed it. Greedy smiled even wider as he walked over
to get a mechanical bridge. “See, this is what you need for that type of shot. This
is called a mechanical bridge. Some people call it a crutch or a granny stick, but
this is what you need to make that. Here, let me show you.”

Greedy demonstrated how to use the mechanical bridge. “First, you want to make sure
that the bridge is placed flat on the table. Then, you'll put your cue stick right
into the shaft of the mechanical bridge. You'll want to hold the end of your cue
stick like you would a dart. Do a couple of warmup strokes and . . .”

Greedy sank the shot that the girl had been trying to make.

“Oh, okay.” The girl sounded impressed.

“See how much easier that is?” Greedy asked.

The girl nodded. “I've never used that before.”

Greedy smiled, then replied, “I can show you a few more tricks and moves, if you'd
like. You know, maybe I can get your number and we can meet up sometime to shoot
some pool.”

“How about I call you?” the girl replied.

“Okay,” Greedy agreed, then looked over at us, grinning.

After he gave her his number, he strolled back to our table. “Piece of cake.”

“Nope,” I shook my head. “The deal was, you had to get
her
number.”

“Oh, come on, now!” Greedy made a face.

“I'm just kidding, man,” I admitted. “I'll see what I can do for you, but I can't
make any promises.”

“Cool,” Greedy said, with a big smile. “I'm telling you, if I can just get an interview,
then I can take it from there.”

I stayed a couple more hours at the Tavern, and Lea was asleep in bed when I got
home. I tried not to make a sound as I climbed into bed, because I was sure she was
upset. I was sure I would hear about it in the morning.

Chapter 4

I
rushed to get to school the next morning. I left before Lea woke up. I wasn't late,
but not as early as I liked to be. The bell hadn't rung, and the students weren't
in the hallways yet.

As I entered my classroom, I was surprised to see Isabelle sitting at her desk again,
reading a book.

“Good morning, Isabelle,” I greeted her.

“Good morning.”

“So, you're always here this early?” I asked.

“Yep,” she replied, drily.

“It's always so cold in here,” I said, to make conversation. “You're not cold?”

She shook her head, no.

“So, what are you reading there?”

Isabelle held up the book so I could see the cover.

“
The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian
,” I read. “That's a good book?”

“Yeah, it's pretty good,” she replied, and went back to reading.

“Well, hopefully you'll enjoy the discussion we're going to have from your summer
reading,” I said enthusiastically, and held up a copy of
The Hunger Games
. Maybe
I could connect with Isabelle about books and reading.

“I read that like three years
ago,” Isabelle replied.

“Good, good,” I responded. “Well, we're not necessarily going to read the whole book
again. We're going to look at a few passages and do a project.”

“Oh,” Isabelle remarked, unimpressed.

“Exciting, right?”

Isabelle shrugged her shoulders, then went back to reading her book. We were definitely
not connecting. What the hell was wrong with this kid?

“Hey, Isabelle,” I started. “Let me ask you something. Why did you shake your head
when I asked Robin about herself? Is there something you think I should know about
her?”

“It was nothing,” she replied.

“Are you sure?”

“I said it was nothing,” Isabelle repeated.

“All right,” I said, returning to getting my paperwork ready for the day.

“Just don't ask her any questions,” Isabelle warned.

“Don't ask her any questions?” I asked, shocked. “What do you mean, don't ask her
any questions?”

Isabelle looked up from her book slowly, as if I was getting on her nerves, then
said, “From what I understand, she's one of the quiet ones. So just don't ask any
questions. It's as simple as that.”

“But I'm going to ask questions and ask for participation from everyone,” I responded.

Isabelle took a deep breath, then said, “Mr. Ramirez. Just don't.”

The bell rang. The voices of students and the sounds of locker doors opening and
closing filled the hallways.

Isabelle went back to reading her book.

“Isabelle,” I called to her.

“Knock, knock!” Denise said, smiling and knocking on the door.

“Hey, Denise,” I greeted her.

“How's it going?”

“Not too bad.”

“Good,” Denise said, pulling out a piece of paper from a folder she was holding.
“I just wanted to drop this off to you. It's about the faculty meeting
this Thursday.
It should be in your e-mail, but I still believe in handing out hard copies.”

“My first faculty meeting,” I replied. “Exciting.”

“It should be,” Denise smiled.

“Hey, do you mind if I speak with you outside?” I asked her.

“Sure,” Denise agreed. “Well, actually, I need to finish making my rounds. Come see
me at lunch, okay?”

“Okay.”

As Denise left, students started making their way into the classroom.

I couldn't quite figure this out. I had one student who didn't talk, and then another
one telling me not to say anything to her. For this to be such a prestigious school,
these kids definitely didn't act normal.

The warning bell rang, followed by the final bell.

“All right, everyone,” I started off. “I'm going to take attendance. Just say ‘here'
or ‘present' when I call your name. Alicia?”

“Here,” Alicia replied.

“Miranda?”

“Here.”

“Cali?”

“Here.”

“Dorian.”

“Present,” Dorian responded.

“Raven?” I called, but didn't hear a response. “Raven isn't here. Robin?”

I didn't see Robin, either. I called the rest of the students' names, then asked,
“Did I miss anyone?”

Isabelle raised her hand.

“Isabelle. I missed you,” I said, looking down at the attendance sheet. “I don't
have your name here. I'll just write it in till we fix that. All right, everyone,
today we're going to be discussing your projects that will be due at the end of the
month.”

“A project, already?” Dorian questioned. “We just started back.”

“Yeah, well, that's why I'm giving you the instructions early, so you can get started
on it,” I explained to him. “It's going to be a brief presentation
that you're going
to show the class. This can be through a PowerPoint, handouts, whatever you think
works best. I want you all to plan on making it five to ten minutes, followed by
a brief discussion that you will lead. So I want you all to write a few discussion
questions to—”

The door slowly opened, interrupting me.

In walked the twins, Raven and Robin, late again.

“Raven and Robin,” I said. “Glad you two decided to join us. Everyone, make sure
you're in your seats by the time the warning bell rings.”

“Sorry, Mr. Ramirez,” Raven apologized.

Once again, Robin did not say anything. Cali waved for Raven, and she made her way
over to where Cali and Miranda sat. Robin looked to see if Cali was going to invite
her over, but she didn't. After a moment, Robin sat behind Isabelle.

I started passing out the instructions for the assignment. “So, for this project
we're going to look at
The Hunger Games
. We're going to analyze a few passages, and
then I'll split you up into groups.”

“Wait! What?” Cali interrupted. “You're not allowing us to choose our own groups?”

“No, not for this project, but the next one you can,” I told her. “So the first group
will be Alicia, Cali, and Isabelle. The second group will be Dorian, Brent, and Robin.”

“What!” Dorian shouted. “Ummm . . . Mr. Ramirez. I can't work in that group.”

“And why not?” I asked.

Dorian paused for a moment and looked around at the class. I noticed everyone looking
at him, expecting him to say something funny.

“Because I love my life too much, and I don't want to end up missing,” Dorian finally
expressed.

Most of the class laughed, but I noticed Robin frowning at Dorian.

“Go missing?” I asked, confused. “What are you talking about?”