The Emerald Talisman (15 page)

“No. Just go. GO!”

Suddenly feeling afraid for my life, I
stepped back, tripped over the chair leg and stumbled out of the
room. Something was seriously wrong and I sensed he was on the
verge of freaking out. I looked for the nurse to warn her, but she
wasn’t anywhere to be found.

In the room, the heart machine started
beeping loudly. A staff person got up to investigate, but Phil, now
dressed, stood in the doorway of his room. He pushed past me, not
acknowledging my presence and ran down the hallway away from
us.

“Sir. SIR!” the male nurse called after
him.

Phil ignored him too.

Instinctively, I ran after Phil, but he
disappeared in a blur. Once I reached the doors to exit the
hospital, he was nowhere to be seen.

It was if he had vanished into thin air.

. . .

10 – DRAMA

All I wanted to do was escape school and be
alone. And if stubborn Mrs. Hinney, the school secretary, would’ve
given me Phil’s address, I would’ve ditched.

Instead, she gave me a lecture on student
privacy and how she’d be breaking the law if she gave out student
information without parental permission, blah, blah, blah. So, I
returned to first period P.E. class, sat on the bleachers and
watched the boys’ locker room door waiting for Phil to emerge.

With my jacket’s hood pulled over my head,
elbows on my knees and my chin resting in my hands, I suddenly
started feeling very sleepy. After finally falling asleep, I ended
up reliving the same horrible nightmares again and woke at 2:20
a.m. unable to go back to sleep. Last night’s dream was
particularly disturbing and involved me running from fanged
creatures at the beach. I forced myself awake when one looked
similar to Phil.

The locker room door flew open. I held my
breath. False alarm. It was only Jordan. Where was Phil?

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sam
staring at me with a frown. I’d been so wrapped up in waiting for
Phil I didn’t notice the girls’ volleyball game. She took advantage
of the moment when her team switched sides and ran over to talk to
me.

“You okay?” she said, out of breath.

“No, actually. Something happened after you
left last night–” I said quietly. “—with Phil.”

“Phil?”

A smile spread on her face. I could tell she
got the wrong impression again.

“No, it’s not like that. Something bad,” I
quickly said.

“Oh?”

“Come on Sam, let’s go,” the coach called
out. “You can socialize after class.”

“I have to go play,” she said and made a face
out of view of our teacher and moved to rejoin her team.

The class period droned on. Sam periodically
exchanged worried glances with me and I knew the wait was killing
her too. After the bell rang, I paced by the locker room door. Sam
was the first to exit.

“So?” she asked half-worried, half-excited.
“Tell me.”

I took a deep breath and caught her up to
speed.

“He ran off?” she asked in astonishment.

“I was hoping he’d come to school today, but
he’s not here.”

“Oh. My. Gosh.” Sam paled. “Where did he
go?”

“That’s just it. I don’t know. But something
is wrong with him. He seriously acted almost possessed.”

An image of Phil’s face flashed through my
mind. The animalistic fire in his eyes still frightened me and it
reminded me of my nightmare.

Sam stood there, mouth open but speechless. I
wanted to continue, but the second bell rang and we were now late
for History.

Quickly we rushed through the door and took
our seats. A messenger from the office spoke privately to Mr.
Marshall and prevented him from noticing we were tardy. I took
advantage of the moment and I opened my notebook to write Sam a
note.

“Julia,” Mr. Marshall said abruptly.

I froze.

“Yes?” I said, my cheeks changing from pink
to crimson.

I slowly shut my notebook and tried to look
inconspicuous.

“You need to collect your things and go to
the principal’s office.”

A low scolding murmur came from the other
students.

“That’s enough,” he barked, dark eyes
piercing over the top of his glasses.

The room grew quiet, but people still gawked
at me. I glanced at Sam and she shrugged. So, I slid my books
across my desk into my arm and tried to exit quietly. One of the
books toppled off the stack and hit the floor with a loud thud. My
cheeks flushed again. Some of the students giggled, but Mr.
Marshall paid no attention and continued with his lecture. I
graciously escaped.

My heart surged faster as I walked to the
principal’s office. What did he want and why did he want to see me?
No one knew about Phil yet, or did they? I rounded the corner and
took a deep breath before approaching a frosty glass door with the
name Principal Lyle Brewster in gold block lettering. I turned the
door handle to let myself in.

Inside, Candy Stewart, the principal’s
raven-haired, bombshell secretary sat at her desk in the lobby. It
had been quite a while since I’d been called to this room and
noticed he’d remodeled; again. She smiled when she saw me
arrive.

“Hello, Julia,” she said sweetly through ruby
red lips. “They’re waiting for you.”

They?

Candy stood up and moved around her desk,
dressed in a tight, low-cut blouse and matching mini skirt. I found
it ironic I was the one being called to the principal’s office for
some sort of infraction when Candy’s outfit clearly violated the
school’s dress code. I rolled my eyes and followed behind as her
red high heels clicked against the tile lobby floor.

My uneasiness rose the further we walked down
the hall as I sensed an increasing ocean of worry and despair. I no
longer felt intimidated by her beauty, only concerned for what lay
on the other side of the door. Part of me wanted to run in the
other direction as I watched Candy reach for the door knob and
turn.

I was surprised to find my Dad staring back
at me, along with two other adults I didn’t know in the room. I
turned in confusion towards Mr. Brewster sitting behind his large
mahogany desk.

“Come in Julia,” Mr. Brewster said, motioning
for me to sit in an empty seat next to my Father.

“Dad?” I murmured, scared I was in huge
trouble.

“It’s okay Julia. Jim and Beverly D’Elia just
have some questions for you,” he said and patted my knee after I
sat down, but he radiated an air of confusion and worry as
well.

I hadn’t met the D’Elia’s before. They looked
like Hollywood celebrities, dressed impeccably and strikingly
attractive with white blonde hair and blue eyes. Their features
were strangely familiar, but they both looked haggard, like they
hadn’t slept in a week.

I smiled weakly, hoping it would help the
situation but their stony expressions didn’t change.

Mr. Brewster sat back in his chair, his face
grim. He put his finger tips together to form the shape of a
diamond.

“Julia, as you may or may not know Phil
didn’t come home last night. The D’Elia’s received a call from
Mercy General telling them that you brought Phil to the emergency
room. When they arrived at the hospital, Phil was no longer there.
The staff reported that they saw the two of you leaving the
hospital together. Do have any idea where he is?”

My eyes darted from Mr. Brewster to Phil’s
parents now realizing why they’d looked so familiar. Phil bore a
striking resemblance. But, then I saw the precarious situation I
was in. They’d assumed I was somehow responsible for his
disappearance.

“Actually, we didn’t leave together at all.
He got upset and took off. I tried following after him, but by the
time I got outside the hospital, he was gone. I don’t know where he
went,” I said meekly.

“What happened?” Mrs. D’Elia asked with
concern in her voice and tears in her eyes.

Mr. Brewster cleared his throat, possibly
because he wanted to control the conversation. I couldn’t believe
he’d be so insensitive to her feelings, so I ignored him and told
her the story.

After I finished, Mrs. D’Elia welled up and
turned to be comforted by her husband. He draped his arm around her
shoulders. I felt his overwhelming blame.

“Did anything else strange happen, maybe
before you found Phil. Possibly during the bonfire?” Mr. Brewster
asked.

I wondered if I should mention what happened
at the beach. I didn’t trust Mr. Brewster. He seemed to have an air
of concern for his students, but I knew different. He was more
concerned about how
his
school was going to portray
him
to the public eye and kept tight controls to make sure
his students didn’t embarrass him.

“No, nothing significant happened,” I said
cautiously.

“Do you know of anyone who would want to
cause Phil harm?” Mr. Brewster asked with distrust in his
voice.

What a weird question. Everyone likes
Phil.

“The nurse said it might be an animal
attack—“

“Just answer the questions please.”

I paused, waiting for my dad to stand up for
me, but he remained silent. He was angry and I didn’t know why. I’m
sure being drug in here from an important business meeting, when
his daughter didn’t tell him she was playing ambulance in the
middle of the night would be a lot to comprehend and forgive.

“No,” I finally said.

“So, you did not see anyone physically harm
Phil?”

“No, like I said, I found him in the –”

“And you took him directly to the hospital?
Alone?” Mr. Brewster fired back.

“Yes, but –”

“Did anyone see you put him in your car?”

I grit my teeth. This line of questioning was
getting ridiculous.

“No.”

“Did he tell you who hurt him?”

While he was unconscious? Or after he wanted
to rip my head off.

I forced myself to act civil, reminding
myself that they were only concerned for Phil’s welfare as I
was.

“I don’t think anyone hurt him,” I said
emphatically. “The nurse said—“

Mr. Brewster leaned forward in his chair and
glared at me. “We know what the nurse said. A yes or no would
suffice.”

“No,” I said with a sigh.

Mr. Brewster continued his volley of
questions. “Did he ever mention before if his life was in danger to
you?”

I suppressed a guffaw.

“Uh, no?” I said with an intentional
sarcastic tone.

“And you didn’t meet secretly somewhere after
you left the hospital?”

I pursed my lips before answering.

“We didn’t leave together and to answer your
next question again, no, I don’t know where he is,” I said slowly
enunciating each word.

Mr. Brewster’s eyes grew into slits while he
remained visibly calm. If it were only the two of us in this
meeting, I’m sure other words would have been exchanged. Even
still, I felt backed into a corner.

“Well, then, if you were so concerned about
Phil, why didn’t you tell anyone last night?”

The question hit me like a blow to the
stomach and I suddenly felt anything I said would be used against
me and wanted a lawyer. What could I say? That my Dad was
unavailable and I thought he wouldn’t really care. Or that I didn’t
know who to tell at midnight when Phil probably just went home. I
barely knew him anyway.

“I don’t know,” I said and looked down at my
shoes.

Mr. Brewster let out a long sigh.

“Okay, then. If there isn’t anything else you
want to tell us, then you can go back to class,” he said without
hiding his animosity.

Anger burned inside me. Not only was I being
accused wrongly of helping Phil run away, no one thanked me for
actually saving his life. I glanced at my dad. His overwhelming
disappointment matched his
“we-will-talk-more-about-this-later-young-lady” face and the
D’Elias plain ignored me. I was the enemy in their eyes.

“Oh and I’d like you to keep this
conversation private please,” Mr. Brewster slid in right before I
left the room.

The words stung like lemon juice on a paper
cut. I made a loud
humph
after I walked out. What happened
between me and Phil was my business and I’d tell who I wanted.

Candy wasn’t at her desk when I exited the
office and I was glad. My brave outer exterior started to crumble
and I would be mortified if Mr. Brewster knew he’d made me cry.

Tears fell silently down my cheek as I ran
down the hall careful to avoid eye contact with curious onlookers.
I had no intention of returning to class, but I needed somewhere to
hide. I spotted the library.

Wiping away my tears, I ducked inside. The
computers were located at the back wall in cubicles with desks. I
slipped into the closest one, logged in and began typing into the
Google search field. After a minute, I found the exact website I
needed and clicked it. I scanned the page and then read through a
list of symptoms.

irritability

excessive movements or agitation

confusion

hallucinations

aggressiveness

bizarre or abnormal thoughts

muscle spasms

abnormal postures

seizures (convulsions)

weakness or paralysis (when a person cannot
move some part of the body)

extreme sensitivity to bright lights, sounds,
or touch

increased production of saliva or tears

difficulty speaking

I printed out the list, shoved it in my
pocket and left the library after more students sat at the desks
next to me, giving me weird looks. I realized I needed to be in a
more secluded place. My emotions were difficult enough to control
as it was and I didn’t want to have to deal with anyone else’s on
top of it.

Careful to avoid being spotted, I snuck out
to the parking lot and got into my car. What I really wanted to do
was drive to the cliffs, but decided against it. With my luck, I’d
get caught and right now staying under the radar seemed imperative.
Since I was already excused from History, skipping the rest of
class seemed harmless.