School of Deaths (9 page)

“Let her go to class,” said Jason.

He gave Suzie a smile and walked away. She hurried down the hall and to the staircase, pulling out her map.

* * * *

Suzie was the last one into her History class. The teacher droned on without turning to her, but the class turned their eyes on her while she hurried to a seat in the back. When would the day end?

“To learn your names,” continued the old Death in the front of the class. “You, Susan, since you were late, why don’t you go first.”

“I’m sorry, what was the question?”

The class giggled.

“Your name, Susan. Stand and tell the class your name, and where you lived before coming to the World of the Dead.”

“I’m Suzie, Suzie Sarnio. I lived in Damascus, Maryland.” She sat quickly.

Each Death rose and did the same. Boys had come from every country around the world, yet somehow she understood them. Did they all speak English? Or was this a world beyond language?

“I’m Luc,” said a lanky boy with dark black hair, dark skin, and thick eyebrows. “I’m from Bordeaux, and I’m one of the only Deaths whose brother is here too. I’d like to add that I hate girls.”

A few boys turned to Suzie but the teacher didn’t seem to notice. He wore thick glasses and slouched over his desk, pressing his nose deep into a stack of papers. He perched on top of a tall stool, and his long white hair fell down past the hood of his robe. Behind him, a shaky hand had written the name “Professor Stevens” on the chalkboard.

The class dragged on but Suzie stopped paying attention. She drifted into her own thoughts, picturing her friends and her mom. She dreamed of women, of wonderful women like her mother. Of comforting women like Gingerbread Nurse Cherwell. Of respected women like her grandmother, or the First Lady. Of her girlfriends at school. There were none here now, no other women in the entire world.

Deaths rose on either side of her and she realized class must be over. She gathered her books. Luc walked behind her and shoved her, making the books fall on the floor. He left the room, laughing. Professor Stevens hadn’t even looked up.

She walked with her head down through the corridors and back toward Lower Hall. She didn’t want to encounter more Deaths protesting her existence. They didn’t want her. Didn’t they realize she didn’t want to be here either?

The crowds turned right, and she turned left, trying to catch her breath. She tossed her backpack down in an empty courtyard. A sundial stood in the middle of a grassy lawn, surrounded by stone walls with arched windows. High overhead, a screech pierced the sky. An eagle soared down, plucking a mouse from the lawn. It perched on the sundial and devoured the rodent, while staring at Suzie.

Suddenly the walls of the courtyard turned red. The ground seemed to shake beneath her.

Fire
.
Everywhere
burning
.
Flames
.

Two green eyes stared at her from the inferno.

The eagle turned its head, and Suzie heard the distinct sound of a baby crying for its mother.

Flames
.

A single word formed her in mind: a plea, an appeal, a name.

Suzie
.

Suzie’s skin burned for a moment, before the sensation faded. The courtyard faded from red flame to white stone. The eagle finished its meal and flew away. Suzie grasped the side of the stones to steady herself.

“Suzie? Are you okay?” asked Frank.

She turned to him. “I’m fine,” she said.

“Billy and I’ve been looking for you. It’s lunch now. What are you doing here?”

“I wanted a breather away from the crowds.”

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Frank gave her a piercing look. “You seem pale.”

“It’s been a long day. The kids were rough, and my theory teacher was absolutely horrible to me.”

“I’m sorry. Can I give you a hug?”

She nodded and he wrapped his arms around her. She felt hot again, but not from flames or strange visions.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get to the hall and grab some lunch.”

“Suzie?” She heard Billy’s voice.

“We’re here,” said Frank, letting her go.

“Hey guys,” said Billy. “What are you doing here?”

“We were going to lunch,” said Frank.

Billy gave him a puzzled look but the three left the courtyard and returned to the Hall.

“How were your classes, Suzie?” asked Billy.

“My history class was boring; the teacher’s didn’t even realize class had started. A few jerks in that class too. Theory’s even worse. The teacher himself spent the class making me feel like dirt.”

“I’m sorry.” Billy sighed. “It will get better after this week. Soon everyone will be wrapped up in their work, they won’t even pay attention to you. You’re new, but they’ll get used to having you around.”

“Will they?” she asked.

“Look,” said Billy, pointing to the top of the staircase leading to the Lower Hall. No Deaths stood to block her way and none stared at her. She climbed the stairs one at a time, afraid of what waited for her in the Hall, but the area seemed normal. If anything here was normal.

Deaths sat around the tables served by bizarre creatures. Billy, Frank, and Suzie sat where they had eaten breakfast.

Jason looked up. “How bad?” he asked.

“The teacher was boring, and one of the kids picked on me, but it wasn’t like Theory. I’m hungry.”

A servant brought her a plate with a plain-looking sandwich.

“I hope it’s not tuna,” she said. “That would make this bad day even worse.”

She bit into the sandwich. Tuna filled her mouth; not fresh tuna, but tuna that tasted two weeks old.

“Gorgers?” she asked, spitting into a napkin.

“You’re learning,” said Billy. “Here, you can have the rest of mine, it’s a meatball sub.”

“They won’t bring me a new one?”

“I’m afraid not. It’s one of those annoying rules people tend to learn the hard way. I did too, last year.” For a second, a desperate, lonely look crossed Billy’s face. He turned away, and when he turned back, he smiled again.

Suzie sighed and took the gorger.

“What’s with the helpers?” asked Suzie, lowering her voice. “They look, different. Not like Deaths.”

“They’re ’Mentals,” said Billy.

“What’s a ’Mental?”

“Short for Elementals. They’re weird.” He whispered, “We’re not supposed to talk about them. I’ll tell you at home if you want.”

“All right.”

“What do you have after lunch?”

“Does it matter?”

“Suzie, you can’t give in. You have to stay strong. They’re trying to get to you because you’re different. You need to show them that you’re as good as any boy.”

“That’s easier said than done. It’s frustrating.”

“It’s only one year,” said Jason.

“If I pass the stupid test.” She looked at Billy. He had failed his test. Would she be able to sit here calmly a year from now? Would she even last that long? And why couldn’t they talk about the Elementals?

A servant came in to clear the dishes away. His eyes were dark green and glowed like a fish. His skin shimmered like scales. Were the Elementals part-animal? She remembered Athanasius and his strange goat-like features. While she mused over the connection, a second servant entered, a man with long blond hair. His eyes glowed red, but he seemed normal in every other way. He noticed her attention and quickly turned away. But why? Suzie decided she’d find out later, when Billy talked to her at home.

She looked at her schedule. She had Art next. Maybe that wouldn’t be too bad, since she’d picked the elective herself.

The Deaths were rising from the tables and heading out of the Hall.

“I have Art now,” she said.

“I’ll walk with you,” said Jason. “I’ve got Art too.” He smiled.

They left the Hall, heading away from the others. Suzie turned back to watch Billy give her a thumbs up and an encouraging smile. She crossed through a courtyard with a fountain: one of the few displays of water in this desert-like stone maze of the College. She walked under a bridge. A skull sat between two large hourglasses, grinning down at her. All skulls grin, yet this one seemed to mock her. The notion was ridiculous, but it pestered her. She took a deep breath and hurried after Jason.

They entered the classroom. A dozen young Deaths stood behind large blank canvases on tripods. This was a small class, her smallest yet. Jason and Suzie took the last two positions, near the front. The room grew silent, waiting for the teacher.

“Late on the first day?” whispered a boy behind her.

“I got here on time,” she said, turning.

“Not you. The teacher. Where is he?”

“I don’t know.” She paused a moment. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

They waited five more minutes before the door opened and a Death hurried in, coughing.

“I-I-I-I’m I’m s-s-s-s-sorry for being l-l-l-late,” he stammered.

“Cronk?” Suzie asked aloud.

“S-s-s-some of you have already m-m-m-met me,” he added, blushing. “This is a n-n-n-new p-p-p-position for me. Wel-wel-wel-welcome to Art.”

Suzie noticed several of the boys glancing at others, and one rolled his eyes.

“My n-n-name is C-Cronk. I t-t-trust this will be a g-g-g-good class for—”

“Spit it out,” said one boy behind Suzie.

Suzie turned and glared, and one of the boys turned beet red. She smiled; this was going to be a good class.

It was.

Cronk stuttered his way through the introductions, before giving them free time to start a pen drawing. Draw something that made them happy. Suzie glanced around the room; most of the Deaths drew crude stick figures. Jason’s picture seemed to be a house, probably his home in the Living World. Suzie turned to her own canvas. She let the pen loose, letting the ink find its own shape. Mom’s face emerged first, followed by her father and brother.

“G-g-g-good S-S-S-Suzie,” said Cronk, walking up behind her.

“Thank you. I love to draw.”

He put a hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eyes.

“Enjoy this c-c-c-class,” he said. “You’ll n-n-n-need it.”

“Thank you, Cronk. Are you all right?”

Cronk wiped a tear from his eye and walked quickly away.

“Jason, is that your house?” she asked.

“Yeah. Your family?” He pointed to her canvas.

“Yes. You’re a good artist.”

He laughed. “Not nearly as good as you.”

“Thanks.” Their pictures did seem better than most of the Deaths around her, though she couldn’t see everyone’s. The class came to an end too soon. This would be the best part of each school day.

When they left the room, she walked up to Cronk. The class was a welcome change from her first two.

“See you tomorrow,” she said. He nodded, but she sensed sadness in his face. Did he regret bringing her to the World of Deaths? It was only his job. She glanced at her schedule again. Applications next, her final class.

“Meet you at dinner,” said Jason. He had a different Applications class.

She walked to a mound near the twisting mountain of West Tower. The sky had grown cloudy, and a light rain fell on her head as she entered the massive classroom.

She realized at once that this class would be trouble. The room was an enormous stone arena. Forty Deaths stood around the room in their robes. Luc, the boy from History who had teased her, stood off to her right next to a taller boy who looked similar to him.

Frank and Billy came over.

“Welcome to Applications,” said Frank.

“You’re here too?”

“Applications is always mixed-level and always the end of the day. It’s the focus of what we learn here. They’ll put you in a group with older kids like us, and we’ll practice.”

“Practice?” she asked. “Practice what?”

“Reaping souls,” said Billy. “Bringing the dead to the Hereafter.”

“Oh.”

“We are training to be Deaths.” He shrugged. “Sounds crazy, but it’s actually interesting.”

“Quiet down,” said a deep voice at the front of the room. The Death who entered the room glowered at the class. Hann scowled, pulling at his thin goatee. His presence seemed to grow into the entire room, extending into every crevice. He wasn’t another Death, he actually resembled
Death
, the Grim Reaper Suzie had seen in movies. The distrust Suzie had felt when she first met him returned. He stood menacingly in the front, daring anyone to speak. In his right hand, he held a scythe gleaming in the light of the large room.

“My name is Hann, and I will be your teacher this year. To begin, form groups of three or four. I don’t care who’s in your group, but at least one member must be an older student. No groups of only first years. Go.” He said the last word softly, but it was a powerful command. The students hurried to form groups.

“We lucked out,” said Frank. He put a hand on Suzie’s shoulder. Billy copied the gesture.

“Is everyone in a group?” called out Hann. No one answered and he continued.

“Good,” he said. “This will not be a fun class, or an easy one. Yet this will be your most important class, the only class where you’ll learn anything that actually matters. Raise your hand if you are a first year.”

Suzie and about two-thirds of the class raised their hands.

“You are the learners. The fresh meat. You must look to the older students for guidance. Second years?”

Frank and Billy, along with several others raised their hands.

“Much to learn. Professor Orell tells me half of you babies still have trouble wielding a scythe. Any third years?”

Only two hands rose. Billy tensed as he glanced at the tall black boy standing in Luc’s group with a raised hand. It must be Frenchie.

“Not much help. I wonder how pathetic you two must be to get stuck in this class.” Suzie glanced at Frenchie, whose face was tense. He looked ready to hit someone. Luc cringed as his brother grabbed his shoulder, probably trying to control his temper.

Hann laughed. “Well this is what I’ve been given, but I guarantee this is not where we’ll end. I will make Deaths out of all of you. Right, your groups will begin general exercises. I issue training scythes tomorrow, and you have your first skills test a week from today. Any questions?”