Things Too Huge to Fix by Saying Sorry (23 page)

In the top right-hand drawer, I found fresh pipe tobacco, cherry-scented. I took a deep breath, enjoying the smell, but hacked and coughed when Indri slapped me on the back.

“Ssshhh!” she whispered. “I hear something.”

I clamped my teeth on my tongue, held my breath, and listened.

Yes. Murmurs coming from the hall near the door.

I got to my feet.

Mac stepped away from the table.

Indri got up, grabbed my arm, and towed me around the desk next to Mac. We all saw Dr. Harper's coat closet at the same time, and as if we had planned it all along, we bolted for the hiding place.

Excerpt from
Night on Fire
(1969), by Avadelle Richardson, page 441

“Are you leaving Oxford now?” Leslie asked as we sat in my classroom, which was finally only a classroom again. She wouldn't stop with the questions, even two weeks after the Meredith riot.

I shook my head, but I didn't say anything sharp to her for asking—because I had considered it. I spent almost a week studying Abram's face, hour after hour, sometimes all night long. I had thought about taking him out of Mississippi. I had thought about sending him away to our cousins in Chicago.

But like me, my baby was born on Mississippi soil. He had roots in this state, deep into the bedrock. What would he become if I cut him loose from Mama
and Aunt Jessie and me, from everyone and everything he had ever known and loved?

“This is my home,” I told Leslie. “It's
our
home, my boy's and mine. If we leave, they win. It's like giving up, and my parents didn't raise me to give up, not ever.”

Leslie rubbed the spot on her arm where she'd had stitches from her rock cut. The doctor at the local hospital took them out for her yesterday.

“You'd stay alive if you left,” she said.

I sighed. “And what meaning would my life have then?”

T
HE CLOSET LIGHT POPPED ON
when we opened it, but as soon as we stuffed ourselves into the tiny space and closed the door, it turned off.

Blacker than night. Blacker than a black hole. I couldn't see a thing. All I could smell was cherry tobacco. A sweater tickled my left ear. I felt Indri lean away from the door and press into me. I leaned back, and realized I was resting against Mac's chest.

His hands touched my shoulders.

A creak and a clank outside made me jump, and his fingers squeezed my arms as if to say,
It's okay. It's going to be all right
.

Had Dr. Harper come back? Who was with him?

My brain did stupid things, like imagining him opening Grandma's lockbox with my key, and finding something
amazing and world-changing, and calling up reporters and bloggers. I felt totally frozen by fear, even with Mac trying to make me feel better.

“Dani?” Indri whispered.

I flinched, feeling guilty over Mac touching me, even though it was a tiny closet—or maybe it was the fact that he was touching me and I didn't mind so much.

“What?” I got out around the catch in my throat.

“What now?” she asked, no louder than a breath.

I had no idea. My ears strained against the muffling wood and sweaters and coats in the closet, trying to pick out voices. Dr. Harper was out there, all right. And somebody else. A woman. Maybe a couple of women, and another guy.

“Breathe,” Mac said.

And I tried to.

I really, really did.

Think
, I told myself.

If we stayed in the closet, we weren't any closer to getting the key. But if we popped out now, we'd look completely guilty of busting into Dr. Harper's office when he wasn't around. Which, of course, we had done, but—oh, never mind. Maybe he'd go away again, and take his friends with him.

Yeah, right. Maybe in a few hours
. I already had to go to the bathroom.

“We probably should go talk to him,” Mac murmured. “It's not like we've got a lot of choices.”

“I'm fine here,” Indri whispered back.

“. . . See them?” came a woman's voice.

My heart did a huge flip as I recognized the speaker.

“Ohmigod, Dani, it's your mom,” Indri whispered a little too loudly.

“They said they were coming to see you. . . .” Mom sounded annoyed. Maybe worried. Bad combination.

I leaned harder into Mac, and he let me. Indri leaned into me. “We're so dead,” she whispered.

“It'll be okay,” Mac said into my ear. “We'll get the key.”

His breath felt so warm against my ear. I knew he was trying to help. I wished he would say something like,
You know what? I'm sorry I was a jerk the last day of school
, or,
Maybe I really do like you.

He opened his mouth again and said, “We probably should go out there.”

I blinked fast with disappointment, and somewhere down inside, I finally accepted that I was never going to get an apology from him. That just made the awful morning
so
much better. Not.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Indri said, making my bladder weigh one hundred more pounds, instantly.

Outside the closet, the voices got quiet.

Then, a very, very, very, very loud Mom voice said, “Danielle Marie Beans.”

I went rock-still. All of us did. For a long, breathless moment, I stared hard into the darkness, like I could see through the closet door.

“Come out of that closet,” my mother instructed. “Right. Now.”

Indri moved before I could form a thought, throwing open the closet door.

Light blasted against my eyes, and I clamped them shut as Indri scrambled up, saying, “Bathroom, sorry, bathroom,” and just like that, she was gone and out the door.

I opened one eye.

My mother stood just outside the closet, arms folded tighter than any ninja librarian, glaring directly at me and Mac. Next to her stood Dr. Harper, and Indri's mom, and my dad.

“What. On earth. Are you doing in that closet?” Mom said. Not even a question, really. I didn't know how to answer, or even if she wanted me to. I just opened my other eye and crawled out.

“Bathroom,” I squeaked, following Indri. I was allowed to escape just long enough to take care of my business. But then I had to walk back into that office.

Indri stood between my mom and hers looking like a lemur caught by poachers. She didn't try to speak or move or anything.

Mac stood near the now-closed closet, hands in his pockets, trying to appear relaxed but looking way nervous instead, especially since my dad's attention was fixed on him.

“Explain,” Mom said. “Immediately.”

I couldn't hear much besides the
pound-pound-pound
of
my pulse in my ears. I couldn't see much more than Mom's frown, Dad's scowl, Ms. Wilson's concerned expression, and Indri's wide eyes. As for Dr. Harper, he looked . . . miserable. And confused. And worried.

I'll be grounded for the rest of my days
, Indri's expression said.
I'll never be allowed to use my phone again. Ever.

“It's my fault,” I said to Mom. “We went to the library this morning to look for, um, a book we lost. It was my idea.” I glanced at Ms. Wilson. “Honest. And then when we did finally come here, Dr. Harper was out, and we let ourselves in to look for the book. All my idea.”

“I don't doubt that this was your doing,” Mom said.

“Indri isn't five years old, Cella,” Ms. Wilson said. “She could have refused to do what she knew was wrong.”

Indri seemed to shrink as her mother spoke.

Mom didn't even acknowledge what her best friend said. Instead, she gestured to the messy piles we had moved and disturbed. “You came into Dr. Harper's office while he wasn't here.”

“You went through his things?” Dad asked—me, specifically. His expression mixed sad with angry, making me feel twice as guilty.

“I—uh, this is likely my fault,” Dr. Harper said, making all eyes swing to him.

Whoa. I stared at him, waiting for him to sell us out completely, and tell my parents and Indri's mom about the key. He had his nice-guy face on, but I knew better than to trust that.

“We were working on some research related to the Meredith riot and the Magnolia Feud,” he said. He pulled off his glasses, cleaned a spot, and put them back on, all the while letting his smile get bigger. “Yesterday, at the library, we had to stop too early. I suspect the children needed one of the volumes I checked out, to pick up where we left off.”

My mouth came open. So did Indri's. I couldn't see Mac behind me, but I heard him give a little sniff of surprise.

“Isn't that right?” Dr. Harper said, and I realized he was talking to me.

“Uh, yes. Actually.”

“There were also some articles,” Indri said, but trailed into nothing when her mom glared at her.

My parents had matching we're-suspicious looks. Mom's left eyebrow lifted. “Mackinnon?” she said.

“Yes, ma'am.” He came to stand beside me, very, very close, but not touching. “We couldn't get past Ms. Donalvan since we didn't have IDs or an adult with us, so we came back here. When Dr. Harper wasn't in his office, we thought it would be okay to get started without him—but we couldn't find our notes from yesterday.”

Mom's eyes narrowed. “And the closet?”

Mac ran right out of steam with that one. Indri had gone total lemur eyes. This one was up to me. And I had nothing. Nada. Zero. Zip.

Mom started to turn pink, which meant maaaaaaaad.
Really, really mad. The gears in my brain froze solid, and not a thought would turn.

Dr. Harper coughed. “Well, now. I can explain that one too.”

Once more, all the attention in the room shifted to him.

“Our girls here, they're fond of scary stories, and you know the legends surrounding this building.” His smile seemed so natural, and he even winked at me. “No doubt they thought we were a bunch of ghosts come to scare them silly. Right, Dani?”

All I could do was grin like an idiot and shrug, gesturing toward the turret. “Lots of ghosts here, yeah.”

Indri nodded like a bobble-head doll. Mac stayed all cool and relaxed until I wanted to punch him in the shoulder.

Mom regarded Dr. Harper for a few seconds, obviously still very suspicious, but she didn't challenge his explanation. “What were you trying to research this morning, Dani?”

When I didn't answer fast enough, she asked Indri, who squiggled and opened her mouth, then closed it again as she gave me a desperate look.

Mom looked at Mac. “Mackinnon, what were you trying to figure out?”

Mac leaned away from me and put his hand on a stack of books on Dr. Harper's table. “We, ah—you know. We were trying to see if Ms. Beans ever spoke to anyone about the night of the Meredith riot before
Night on Fire
came out. Since, you know, that's when both my GG and Ms. Beans stopped discussing what really happened.”

“What's fact and what's fiction,” I said, just above a whisper. “It's hard to figure out where to draw the line.”

“Yes it is,” Mom said, sounding confused, and finally, finally, just a little bit convinced.

After a few heartbeats, Dad said, “So, we're supposed to believe this was all just research, and that you and Dr. Harper got wires crossed, which is why you came to campus to see him and he came to our house to see you?”

My eyes went wide. When I looked at Dr. Harper, he gave me a very, very cautious smile, as if to say,
Take care now. Tread lightly
.

“Yes, sir,” I said, and wanted to kick myself for the lie.

Time passed. Silence sat in the book-lined office with us as Mom and Dad and Ms. Wilson took turns studying our faces.

“I think you've been enough trouble to Dr. Harper today,” Mom said. She rubbed the bridge of her nose. Another few seconds went by, then she made a motion with both hands, like shooing a fly. “Mackinnon, go on with Marcus. He'll take you home.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he said. He stood up straight, then walked over to Dr. Harper and extended his hand. Dr. Harper hesitated. Mac wiggled his fingers, then touched the tips together and turned his wrist like he was opening a door. Dr. Harper still looked perplexed. He put his hand in his pocket, then finally seemed to realize Mac was offering to shake. He took Mac's hand firmly, and he smiled like he'd never made the mistake.

“Thanks, sir,” Mac said. Then Mac turned to Indri. He put out his hand to shake again. “Sorry, about, you know. Everything. School and stuff.”

Her eyebrows lifted. So did mine. Why was he doing this now, of all times? Had he totally lost his mind?

Indri shook with him, but her expression screamed,
This is stupid!
She had to be reconsidering whether or not she should just kill him, but all she said was “Uh-huh.”

Mac came over to me next.

In spite of his weird, wrong timing, I felt something. Maybe nerves. Maybe relief. Definitely frustration. I couldn't sort it all out.

He put out his right hand again. “Sorry, Dani. You were right, at school, I mean. I should have made my own decisions, and I wish I hadn't hurt your feelings.”

His eyes flicked from his hand to mine, and he seemed pretty desperate for me to shake on his apology.

I had wanted this so much, for weeks now. Just not here. Not now. Not like this. It felt completely wrong. I didn't believe him. I sort of wanted to smack him. Okay, I
really
wanted to smack him. But I couldn't. I had to make nice, or we'd all be in that much more trouble.

Whatever.

Stomach starting to churn, I reached out and shook his hand—