Edgewood Series: Books 1 - 3 (71 page)

“Um, yeah.” I looped the fabric back behind the tie and pushed it through the circle and down again just the way I’d been taught. In theory it should have worked, so why did it look so bulgy?

She leaned against the doorframe, watching my face in the mirror. “Sometimes these kinds of things hit you later, when you least expect it. You think you’re fine and then…”

There was a long awkward pause. I looked up. “It hits you later?”

She looked relieved. “Yes, exactly like that. Would you like to start seeing Dr. Anton again? You always liked him.”

“We’ll probably see him at the funeral. Don’t you think?” I pulled the whole thing apart and started over. She meant well, but her talking was a huge distraction.

“Yes, probably.” She spoke in measured tones. “But I meant seeing him in a professional sense. For grief counseling.”

“Doesn’t he specialize in stress-related sleep disorders?” I said, even though I knew the answer. I’d gone to see him for that very problem. Chronic insomnia. It turned out not to be stress-related, but I hadn’t known that at the time.

“Well, it’s not like he couldn’t handle other problems too. And he knows you, which I thought would make things more comfortable.”

“I appreciate it, Mom, but I’m fine, really. People die. I get it.” From the shocked look on her face I knew that I’d taken it too far in the other direction. Now I looked heartless and cruel. She was probably going to Google the definition of ‘sociopath’ the next time she was online. “I mean, it’s a terrible loss, and I have my moments like anyone else.” I scrambled for just the right thing to say. “But it’s not like it would be if something happened to you or Dad. Then I’d be a complete wreck.”

That seemed to do it. “Okay,” she said, seemingly relieved. “Well if you change your mind, let me know. It’s an open offer.”

I nodded. Downstairs I heard the unmistakable sound of Frank and Carly arriving. My sister was fairly quiet, but Frank was a presence. He had this nervous energy that kept him from crossing the room like a normal person. He bounded, he stomped, he jumped. For a ten-year-old kid he consumed a lot of everything: air, space, quiet. When he was around, it was exhausting. But then, after he left, everything seemed dull and boring. No one was like Frank. Now I heard him calling out, “Grandma, Grandma, where are you?”

“I better go see what he wants,” Mom said, reluctantly pulling away. “Don’t take too long. We need to leave in ten minutes.” And then thankfully, she was gone. I heard her pass Carly on the stairs; Carly’s steps energetic and light, my mother trudging downward, their voices exchanging greetings. Carly was telling Mom she wanted to give me money she owed me.

I went back to my tie, wanting to strangle whoever came up with the concept of knotting fabric around your neck for serious social events. “Hey Russell.” Carly leaned in the doorway the same as my mother had. They were more alike than either of them knew. “How’s it going?”

I raised an eyebrow in her direction. “You owe me money?”

“Yeah, you wish.” She laughed. “That was just my excuse for coming up to talk to you alone.”

“Okay.” We’d already talked since I’d returned from South America. I’d given her the lowdown on almost every detail except one: I’d honored my promise to David Hofstetter, her former high school boyfriend and love of her life, and hadn’t revealed that he did not, as commonly believed, die in a car crash sixteen years before. That, in fact, he’d faked his death to shake the Associates and join the Praetorian Guard doing work that would ultimately make the world a better place.

We’d found him in Peru working in a lab, doing what he called valuable scientific research. Valuable and top secret. Carly would have been overjoyed to know he was still alive, but I couldn’t tell her. It killed me to have to lie to her, but David made it sound like it was a matter of life and death. Oh wait, there was another detail I hadn’t told her, something that she should have known, but apparently didn’t, that David, long presumed dead, was actually Frank’s father.

She watched me fighting with the tie and waited, as if I’d say more. When I didn’t, she said, “I just want to get this straight. Two weeks ago you went on a trip to Peru sponsored by the Praetorian Guard thinking you had proof that David was still alive.”

I nodded, not taking my eyes off the mirror.

“It was you, Nadia, Mallory, and Jameson, all pretending to be students going to an academic decathlon in Miami, chaperoned by Kevin Adams, Mrs. Whitehouse, and Mr. Specter.” Carly ticked off on her fingers as she said the names. “You went, you checked it out, you had a good time. Somewhere in there, Nadia became your girlfriend. And then, to top it all off, Mr. Specter dropped dead from a heart attack, and you brought him back in a body bag.”

“Actually, an urn. His body was cremated there.”

Her fingers tapped against the doorframe. “How convenient. So you didn’t see David or learn anything about him while you were there?”

“I think we covered this already, Carly. Why won’t you believe me?” I avoided looking at her. She’d been a huge troublemaker in high school, putting my parents through hell with one thing after another—flunking classes, sneaking out at night, getting drunk, smoking pot, wrecking the car. Out of necessity she’d become good at covering her tracks, while I was just a beginner in this area. She’d see right through me if I wasn’t careful.

She stepped in front of me. "Let me do that." Taking hold of the tie she expertly looped it around and tucked it in, then adjusted the knot and smoothed the front. I tried not to look into her eyes, which was nearly impossible to do. She stood so close that I could smell the gum on her breath. "It’s not that hard, Russ. Keep practicing, you'll get it."

I took a step back. "Yeah, I don't know if I really need to practice. I don't wear a tie that often."

"I'm not talking about the tie. I'm talking about lying. You need some practice." She put one hand on her hip. "You are one terrible liar. Your body shifts awkwardly, your eyes move back and forth. There are kindergartners caught stealing candy bars who tell more convincing stories."

"I don’t know what you mean." I kept my voice steady, but my protest sounded lame even to me. "It all happened just the way I said."

"Just the way
they
said you should say it happened." Carly practically spat out the word. She had nothing but contempt for the Praetorian Guard. “Don’t listen to them, Russ. They’ve got you brainwashed.”

"I guess I'm not going to convince you," I said, my arms hanging loosely by my side. "We'll have to agree to disagree." I'd gotten that line from my dad. He used it often when arguing with Mom.

Carly jabbed a finger into the center of the tie she'd just so neatly arranged. "I'm going to be watching you, Russ. I know there's more going on than what you’re telling me.”

“If that were true,” I said, considering my words. “I mean, if there’s something I’m not being straight about, it would only be because I’m looking out for you. You know that, right?”

She sighed. “I can look out for myself, Russ. I’ve been doing it since before you were born.”

“Yeah, I know, but…” I hated it when I couldn’t come up with a quick answer. “If there’s something else, I promise I will tell you eventually. Just not now. But as soon as I can. Okay?” I hoped it was okay. I’d already said more than I should have.

“I am going to get it out of you,” Carly said, arms crossed. “I know all your weaknesses, Russ. I’m not giving up on this. By the time I’m done you’re going to crack like an egg.”

From the bottom of the stairs my mom called out, "Come on, you two! We're going to be late."

Carly muttered, "We're not going to be late. She always leaves too early."

She was right, our mother always did leave way too early, but I didn’t mind this time because I was glad for the interruption. I just said, "We'd better get going."

Now all five of us sat in a row in the auditorium, watching the memorial service as a family. Around me came the sounds of sniffling, mostly girls and some of the moms. I heard someone say, "He was so young." Forty-eight-years-old wasn't all that young, but I guess it was young to be dead.

The principal and vice principal both spoke of Mr. Specter's record as a teacher. Behind them, a slide show silently flashed images from the school yearbook: a giant shot of Mr. Specter’s head, like he was Oz the great and powerful, and then photos of him doing science experiments, taking kids on field trips, things like that. In every one he had on his trademark sweater vest and wire-rimmed glasses. His receding hairline made his forehead look extra large. I hadn’t noticed that in real life, but in the photos it was prominent.

No personal pictures and no mention of his family, which was odd. I knew he wasn't married and I assumed there were no kids, but still, you'd think there would be other family members. As if to answer my question, Vice Principal Ehlers solemnly said, "He always said this school was his family." Ms. Ehlers was trim with blond hair and a friendly smile, which fooled the parents, but not the kids who’d had the experience of being called into her office. If you crossed her she could make your life miserable. "And that his students were his kids." She wiped away a tear. "Samuel Specter went over and above in his teaching career. He loved science and he loved getting kids excited about science. No one will be able to replace him."

Next to me Carly made a derisive snort and then quickly coughed to cover it up. My mom fumbled in her purse and handed her a tissue, then patted her arm reassuringly.

When the principal and vice principal were done speaking, Ms. Ehlers said, "I'd like to turn the floor over to some of Mr. Specter's friends, every one of them prominent members of the community. All of them first met here more than thirty years ago as students in this very high school. Each of them has a few words they’d like to share about their good friend and former classmate, Sam Specter.”

She gestured to Kevin Adams, who lumbered up to the podium, hands in his pockets. His jet-black hair was slicked back as usual, but he wore a button-down shirt rather than his usual T-shirt. He cleared his throat nervously before starting. "Most of you know me as the owner of Power House Comics. Over the years Sam helped me out when I needed an extra hand at the store, so you probably already know that we were friends. He was a true friend, the best kind of friend. I met him when I was fifteen, younger than most of you, and at the time I had no idea the impact he'd have on my life. It was an honor to be with him at the end. His death is a loss for me and a loss for the world." He paused and looked around the room. "Don't let people tell you that the friends you make in high school aren't important. In my experience they're the only ones who count." He shuffled a little bit, and started to walk away, then returned and lowered his mouth to the microphone. "Thank you very much."

A few people, unsure, clapped. When Rosie reached the podium, they stopped. I always liked Rosie. She owned the local diner and waitressed there too. She had a motherly persona and remembered everyone who walked through the diner doors. I didn’t get the impression that she and Mr. Specter had been close, but since they’d all had superpowers as teenagers and were part of the Guard, they’d had an uncommon bond that lasted more than thirty years. Secrets drew people together. I’d learned that already.

Rosie was more composed than Kevin. She mentioned his sweater vest, and that she’d been to blame for it becoming a staple of his wardrobe, since she’d given him one for a gift once. He liked it so well that she gave him one for his birthday every year. “He was an intense man,” she said. “But a good friend, the kind who just shows up when you need him most.” She nodded and looked upward as if remembering. “The night my mother died I drove back from the hospital in tears and wound up putting my car in the ditch on Highway 23. It was February, bitter cold, and I was in the middle of nowhere. That was before cell phones,” Rosie said. “I was trying to rock the car back and forth to get it out of the ditch, but it wasn’t working. I couldn’t believe my bad luck. On the same night my mother dies, I’m stuck on a country highway, sure I was going to freeze to death. I was getting low on gas too, to make it even worse. It was awful. I closed my eyes and put my head against the steering wheel and prayed. I prayed harder than I ever had before. And what do you think happened then?” She had the crowd in her grip. Hundreds of people were in the room, but it was dead quiet.

Finally one girl’s voice came out from the crowd. “What happened?”

Rosie smiled. “I heard a truck coming from the other direction. It stopped alongside me and I could see it was a tow truck. Sam Specter jumped out of the passenger side and came over to my window. I rolled it down and he said, “I had a feeling you might need some help.”

The crowd murmured in disbelief. Rosie raised her hand, palm outward. “I swear on my mother’s grave that this story is true. Sam Specter was a miracle man. He just had a knack for knowing when a friend needed his help. He was a gift to everyone who knew him, and I am going to miss him more than I can say.”

She walked away from the microphone. This time the crowd didn’t hold back, but erupted in applause. Rosie sat down, ladylike, and didn’t object when Kevin Adams took her hand. I wondered if this was what it was going to be like for me, Mallory, Jameson, and Nadia in thirty years. We were building relationships around secrets. We were special. Blessed with superpowers and cursed with everything that came with those powers. I knew that Sam Specter’s superpower had been seeing the future, so it was a safe guess that he’d known ahead of time that Rosie’s car would break down that night. It wasn’t magic. But for people who didn’t know better, it sure seemed that way.

Dr. Anton strode up to the podium like a man on a mission. He looked exactly like he had when I’d been his patient: snappy bow tie, goatee, impeccably dressed in a pressed shirt and dark suit coat. He introduced himself and talked about how he’d met Sam in study hall their freshman year. They’d hit it off right away due to their love of all things
Star Trek
. “I don’t think anyone yet has mentioned Sam Specter’s extraordinary mind. He was, in a word, a genius. He could read something once and recite it months later verbatim. He immediately understood complex scientific concepts that someone like me would have trouble grasping, even with much study. Talking to him was a joy. He was never boring and that’s saying a lot.” He looked around the auditorium. “When I heard that Sam died of a heart attack in Miami, I was horrified and saddened, like all of you here today. But I also thought, how fitting that he died while chaperoning a group of students who were competing in an academic decathlon. How like him to be a champion of education until the very end. I was especially heartened, but not surprised, to hear that those students took first place in their division.”