Be Not Afraid (2 page)

Lucy tilted her head to one side. “Marin. I told you on the bus that I’d save you a seat at Mass. And then I reminded you again at lunch. Don’t you remember?”

I shook my head, grateful and embarrassed by Lucy’s fretting. She had no idea about my ability to see pain, but she had also for some reason decided that I needed regular looking after, something she did with an inordinate attention to detail. Once, after I realized I had forgotten my lunch money, she not only paid for my meal, but also
created an emergency lunch fund for future occurrences, keeping the $2.40 in a small ziplock bag inside her backpack. I’d had to use it twice.

“I brought crack,” she whispered, dipping a hand inside her bag and withdrawing a package of strawberry Twizzlers. Lucy called all candy crack. “I have Tootsie Rolls, too, if you’re not feeling the fruity vibe. Take as much as you want. Just don’t make any noise opening it. And definitely don’t let anyone see it.”

I selected a piece of licorice from the bag, taking pains not to crinkle the wrapper. Lucy’s weight and shape made her look more like a ten-year-old than a fifteen-year-old, but as if in recompense for her size, she had been blessed with an unusually beautiful face. Her almond-shaped eyes were a deep shade of gray flecked with little bits of blue, and her skin was the color of cream. Offset with dark black hair that she wore in a different style every day, at times she looked more like a porcelain doll than an actual girl.

“Why are you so late getting here, anyway?” she asked. “I’ve been waiting for you for, like, ten minutes.” Her hair was in two braids today, coiled into tight buns behind her ears, and I could see a small red disk in the back of her mouth. Cavity number three.

“Oh, Sister Paulina got ahold of me.” I scowled. “She pulled me aside out there and read me the riot act.”

“Sister Paulina?” Lucy’s eyes got big. “Why? What’d you do?” Lucy had a weird fear of people in authority; people like nuns and priests practically made her hyperventilate.
Sometimes I wondered if it had something to do with the fact that everyone looked so big compared to her.

“I didn’t do anything. I was just reading one of my books on the way in, and she saw it and freaked.” I bit the end of the Twizzler. “She’s so annoying.”

Lucy sank down close to me. “Well, you know how they all are about Mass. You gotta keep your eyes fixated on the altar the whole time or they’ll wig out. Which reminds me.” She pushed my hand with the licorice in it down between the seats. “Keep the crack out of sight.”

I stiffened as a shriek of plastic laughter sounded over my left shoulder. The falseness in that voice was unmistakable, like an alarm going off in the middle of the room. My whole body tightened as Cassie Jackson drifted down the aisle, the edge of her skirt inches away from my elbow. I didn’t look up, but I could feel her eyes boring into me, two drills in the side of my face. My heart pounded in my chest, the blood rushing to my ears. I’d only been here for a couple of months when she invited me over to her house. I’d gone hesitantly, as I barely knew her, and it hadn’t ended well. Now I did everything possible to keep away from her, even taking crazy detours in the cafeteria and staying late after class so that I wouldn’t run into her in the hallway. Still, just her presence, even from afar, could make the hair on the back of my neck prickle.

As Cassie drifted down the rest of the aisle, Lucy nodded knowingly and patted my arm. “She’s gone,” she whispered. “Don’t worry.”

“Where’s she sitting?” I spoke through clenched teeth, not raising my head.

“She’s down near the front. Pretty far away, actually.” Lucy didn’t know the details of what had occurred between me and Cassie, but the fact that Cassie was one of the most popular girls at St. Anselm’s, combined with the vicious looks she continued to shoot my way, made things pretty obvious. She’d figured out quickly that, for one reason or another, Cassie Jackson was mortal enemy number one. It was just one more thing for her to worry about when it came to me.

The strains of piano music filled the room as Ms. Mattern, the music teacher, began to bang out a hymn. On cue, the students rose as one and started to sing the opening song.

“You shall cross the barren desert, but you shall not die of thirst; You shall wander far in safety, though you do not know the way.”

I took a deep breath and braced myself. Ms. Mattern played this hymn without fail at every Mass, and each time, it threw me off guard. Once, a long time ago, I had loved this song, had let it sweep me up in its strands of golden hopefulness when Mom and Dad had made me go to church. The words themselves had felt like a bridge of some kind, or an invisible barrier holding me up, blocking all the ills of the world, all the bad things I knew were out there.

“Be not afraid.”
Next to me, Lucy sang out in a soft voice, the words coming out of her mouth like tiny birds.
“I go before you always. Come follow Me, and I will give you rest.”

For a few seconds, the words enveloped me like a salve on a burn, the way they used to. And then remembering, I steeled myself against them. It was all a lie, these pretty phrases, all just pretend. It was nothing more than a game, some ridiculous attempt to comfort people when they were drowning in sorrow, to give them the illusion that someone cared.

They weren’t real.

God wasn’t real.

I looked out of the corner of my eye as the Mass procession began to file past. Pairs of shoes appeared, glossy black loafers, blue leather flats, a set of black and red Saucony sneakers. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of the sneakers. I raised my eyes just a little, past the neatly pressed khaki pants and dark blue shirt, just in time to see the handsome, fleeting profile and then the back of Dominic Jackson’s head. Something in my belly moved the way it always did when he came into view, and I could feel the tips of my ears getting hot. He was so good-looking and such a normal human being that it was hard to believe he was related to Cassie. But there it was. He was her older brother, a senior, last year’s javelin star on the track-and-field team, and adored by legions of girls.

Lucy gave me a knowing nudge as Dominic moved past. I nudged her back, annoyed and secretly pleased that she knew I thought Dominic was cute. He held a Bible in his
hands, raised up at eye level, and I could see a pale blue orb inside his wrist. A javelin injury? Maybe an old sprain. I stared at it as long as I could until he disappeared down the aisle.

Father Nickolas was next, with his odd cluster of yellow egg-shaped orbs inside his neck, followed by Father William, the parish priest at Sacred Heart, where Nan went to Mass every morning. He walked slowly, leaning on a cane, mouthing, “Hi, Marin,” as he passed. I nodded back, giving him a small smile.

Since we’d moved, Nan had invited Father William over to the house for dinner a few times. He liked to stay afterward, sitting with her in the living room while they sipped glasses of warm whiskey and talked into the late hours. He was a nice man. Quiet. Easygoing. Quick to laugh, too, although I sensed a sadness about him, a heaviness that clouded his eyes and stooped his shoulders when he walked. Now, as he passed, I could make out the series of large, ruby-hued shapes beneath his heavy robes. They settled along the bottom half of his spine, glimmering like a string of fading Christmas lights as he made his way up the steps and shuffled in behind the altar.

“In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” Father William made the sign of the cross over the student body.

I closed my eyes as the priest began the opening prayers. It was Holy Week, which meant that the service would be a long one, maybe even twice the length of a usual Mass.
Around me, the sounds of familiar prayers filled the room, the lull of them creating a warm, drowsy effect. Even closed, my eyelids felt heavy. The steady cacophony of voices began to drift into the background.

Grnnnt! Sssst!

I opened my eyes with a start and tried to focus. Father William was behind the makeshift altar onstage, praying over the bread and wine. On the right, Dominic sat in a chair next to two other boys, who were acting as altar servers. His interlocked fingers hung down between his knees and he stared at the floor as if studying something between his shoes. Had they gotten this far into the Mass already? I must have fallen asleep, dreamed those weird noises. Maybe they’d even come from me. I snuck a glance at Lucy, but she was staring straight ahead, absorbed in the Mass. I exhaled and felt my muscles start to relax.

Until I heard it again, something that sounded like a low growl this time. It seemed to be coming from farther down, toward the front.

“What is that?” Lucy whispered, elbowing me. “Did you hear that noise?”

I raised myself up against the arms of my seat, ignoring the blur of colors and shapes that assaulted me, and looked in the direction the noise seemed to be coming from. For a split second, I wondered if I was imagining the sight before me. Cassie Jackson’s head was thrown back against her seat. Her eyes were so wide open that they were bulging from inside her face, and her mouth was parted, as if she was
struggling for air. Another hissing sound came out between her lips, and as it did, the students around her reared back and gasped.

“What is it?” Lucy whispered, tugging on my sleeve. “What’s happening? I can’t see anything.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “It looks like Cassie. Is she sick, maybe?”

“Cassie Jackson?” Lucy hopped up on her seat now, folding both legs beneath her, and tried to see over my shoulder. “Why do you think she’s sick? Is she throwing up?”

Up on the stage, Father William hesitated as he glanced in Cassie’s direction. His voice began to intone a prayer:
“Then Jesus, taking the bread, broke it and said: ‘This is my body, shed for you and all of your sins. Take and eat of it, in memory of me.’ ”

At the sound of the words, Cassie began to pant. Her head lolled back and forth along the seat, and a vein in her neck bulged like rope. Father William raised the host up in the air with both hands and held it there. Suddenly, Cassie stood up. It was an abrupt, violent movement, as if someone had yanked her to her feet by an invisible string. Father William’s arms dropped for an instant, and then he raised the host higher.

As he did, Cassie threw her head back.
“Nooooo!”
she screamed.

It was a horrific sound, murderous and high-pitched, and the stillness of the surroundings magnified it even more, as if a gun had just gone off in a graveyard. The auditorium
seemed to gasp with one breath. Up on the altar, Dominic stared at his younger sister, his body leaning forward, both hands gripping the sides of his chair. Even Father William took a step back, the host still in his hands. The look of alarm and fear on his face was unmistakable. Two silent seconds passed as Cassie stood there, panting.

And then all hell broke loose.

“Take it away!” If Cassie’s voice had been shrill before, now it was demanding and insistent. She pointed at the host on the altar and screamed a final time. “Take it away! Take it
away
!”

Mrs. Loftus, the freshman science teacher who weighed no more than a third grader and was sitting at the end of Cassie’s row, had already leapt to her feet. She lunged for the girl, but Cassie swung her arms and gnashed her teeth, growling and spitting at the woman’s outstretched hands. For a split second, I remembered a caged tiger I’d seen on a TV show, being trained to perform for a circus. Part of the training involved torturing the animal with electrical wires. Every time the electricity shot through it, the animal reacted like this: roaring, furious with its torturers, hell-bent on escaping. Students screamed as Cassie slapped and clawed at them, frantic to get out of the row she was in. Grim-faced teachers rushed in from all sides, trying to pick up where Mrs. Loftus, who was now standing with both hands pressed over her mouth, had left off.

“Cassandra Jackson!” Sister Paulina’s voice soared above the melee with the preciseness of a bullet. She appeared
from nowhere, pushing past the other teachers to get to Cassie. Her robes flapped around her like an enormous brown bird as she gestured in the girl’s direction, both arms raised high over her head. “Cassandra! Cassie, look at me! Come here!”

If Cassie heard Sister Paulina, she gave no indication of it. She seemed intent instead on plowing down everyone who obstructed her path, pushing kids out of the way, even taking a flattened palm and shoving it against one boy’s face so that she could get past. Dumbstruck, I watched as the nun nodded curtly at Mr. Bobeck, the gym teacher, who had sidled into the row behind Cassie. “Grab one of her arms, if you can!” she shouted. “I’ll come around to the other side!”

Did they know what was wrong with her? Had something like this happened before? Did anyone know what to
do
?

Cassie gave an unnatural howl as Mr. Bobeck managed to grab one of her flailing arms and tried to drag her from the aisle. His bald head glimmered under the bright lights, and his jaw was set like a piece of flint. Just behind his rib cage, I could make out an oval-shaped yellow ball, pulsing like a miniature sun.

“Get
off
me!” Cassie screamed. She pulled backward, trying to twist her arm out of Mr. Bobeck’s grasp, but he held on tight. Drawing her free arm back, she decked him hard under the chin. I flinched at the dull crack of bone meeting bone, a horrifying noise that seemed to reverberate
long after it was gone. Mr. Bobeck let go of her arm and staggered backward, falling into the row of students behind him. Fresh screams rose up as he brought a hand to his face and struggled to right himself. Directly across the aisle from me, a chubby boy with red hair held up his phone and began to record the action.

“Let me out!” Cassie shrieked. She smacked at people, moving in the opposite direction of Sister Paulina, who was still edging in from the other end of the row. “Let me out! Let me out before it kills me!” She raked her nails down the sides of her cheeks as she screamed and twisted forward. “Get me out of here! Move! Move! Let me out!”

My fingers clutched the edge of my seat as Cassie stumbled up the aisle. This time, instead of reaching for her, students leaned back as she passed, not wanting to touch her, not wanting her to touch them.