Todd Strasser - Wish You Were Dead

I was glad that she’d decided to tell me—but sorry, too. One reason I’d become friends with Courtney was because she had that wild and unpredictable streak—the opposite of me, Ms. Predictably Unwild. Her lack of restraint was kind of enviable considering how restrained I’d been brought up to be. But it had never occurred to me that she’d do something so well, of course it was self-serving, but it was also so … out-of-bounds. In my mind, cheating with another girl’s boyfriend could not be justified, no matter who he or she was.

Courtney tilted her head against the headrest and glanced at me. “Angry?”

“No, not angry. More confused and disappointed, and really worried about him.”

“I know … but seriously, Madison? I could tell he didn’t want to be with her. You know that look guys give you.”

I nodded but secretly wasn’t sure. Had I ever gotten that look? “Just because a guy gives you a look … I mean, you must get that all the time.”

“Not from Adam Pinter.”

I pulled into her driveway. The house looked dark and empty. Her father was probably away on business, and her sister at her boyfriend’s. No wonder Courtney wanted company tonight.

“Try to come by later, okay?” she said. “I don’t know what we’ll do, but I’m pretty sure it’ll be low-key. It just feels like right now is a time when you want to be with your friends.”

Soundview Stables was at the end of a dirt road. You parked in a lot at the bottom of a small hill and walked up to the two identical stables, painted red with white trim. When I got there, Mr. Farnsright, the overnight manager, was coming out of the west stable, the one where we kept Val.

“Hey, Madison.” He waved when he saw me. “Gonna do a little evening mucking?”

“Is that okay?” I asked apologetically. “I know it’s almost dark.”

“No prob,” Mr. Farnsright said. “Just be sure to lock up when you’re done.”

“Thanks.” I turned toward the stable door.

“Oh, Madison?”

“Yes?”

“What’s this I hear about kids disappearing? That true?”

I nodded.

Mr. Farnsright slid his cap back and scratched his head. “Strangest thing I’ve ever heard. You know, a detective came by here today, asking about halothane.” He could tell by the face I made that I didn’t know what he was talking about. “It’s a chemical vets use to anesthetize animals. Wanted to know if we had any of the stuff, or if I knew who might. I said we didn’t, and the only folks I could imagine having it would be the local vets, like Dr. Harris and Dr. Costello.”

Inside the east stable a horse neighed, and a bat darted through the dark above us.

“Well, g’night, Madison. Don’t forget the doors.” Mr. Farnsright headed up the hill toward his house and I let myself into the stable. What could an animal anesthetic have to do with Lucy or Adam disappearing? I wondered. It was maddening to think about. Another possibility to mix in with all the others. Maybe all of it was coincidental. No, surely the note implied that wasn’t the case. Wasn’t it obvious by now—because she’d been gone so long—that something bad had happened to Lucy? And somehow I knew something bad had happened to Adam, too. Because he wouldn’t have wanted his family to worry. That’s just the way he was.

Inside the stable I mucked out Val’s stall and thought about seeing Tyler in town a few hours earlier. There were probably lots of explanations for that, and yet it made me feel uncomfortable. Why did I have to have a crush on him of all people? Why couldn’t I have picked someone a little more predictable and easier to figure out?

I finished mucking, and started to groom Val, running the rubber curry comb down the horse’s flanks. There was something soothing about taking care of my horse. Once I got into the rhythm of combing, it took me away the way sailing took my father away. The stable began to feel like a world of its own, far from school, social pressures, inscrutable guys, and from friends disappearing. It was just me and Val and the long, even strokes down her brown flanks.

It was dark by the time I finished. I said good-bye to Val and left the west stable, latching the door behind me. Outside, the air had grown chillier, and I paused to watch my breath come out in a cloud of vapor. Suddenly I heard whinnying and banging from inside the east stable across the yard. It could have been a horse cribbing or weaving in its stall, but it sounded too frantic.

A nervous shiver ran across my shoulders. Something was wrong, but what should I do? I stared at the east stable’s red door, my feet frozen to the ground.

“Hello?” I called. “Is someone in there?”

No answer. The whinnying grew louder. A second horse had joined in the fray. Something was seriously spooking them. What if it was a fire? My stomach began to knot. I stepped closer to the east-stable door, hoping to hear something inside that would give me a clue. But all I heard was banging and the clopping hooves of agitated horses.

“Is someone in there?” I called more loudly. “Is something wrong?”

No answer.

I was scared, even though I told myself I shouldn’t have been. I’d been coming to these stables since I was a child and knew everyone who worked here, as well as most of the people who boarded their horses. I made my feet step forward and forced my trembling hands to reach for the stable door.

Just then the banging and neighing inside stopped.

I felt a welcome relief. I didn’t have to look inside now, did I?

Suddenly the frenzied sounds started again. I jumped and backed away from the stable door, only to realize that this time the cacophony was coming from somewhere else. Somewhere behind me.

The noises were coming from the west stable … where Val was.

Without a moment’s hesitation, I ran to the stable door and threw it open. The horses inside were wild and bucking. Down at the far end something dark moved. Door hinges squeaked loudly. By the time I focused on it, whoever had been there had gone through. Bang! The door slammed shut.

I ran down to Val’s stall. Like the other horses, she was weaving and whinnying, but nothing appeared to be the matter. I heard a creak and spun around. Bang! The other stable door slammed shut. I fought the impulse to run to it. My heart was banging and I took deep breaths trying to calm myself.

I walked slowly toward the door and pulled the handle. But it didn’t open. It was latched shut from the outside. I was locked in, trapped.

Fright rose in my throat. A cry began to gather in my chest, but I stifled it, then pulled out my cell phone and dialed Mr. Farnsright’s number.

The next few minutes were some of the longest I’d ever experienced. The horses calmed down, but I didn’t. Stomach in knots, heart thumping, trembling from head to foot, I waited.

Finally the stable door began to open. I took a fearful step back and held my breath.

There stood Mr. Farnsright with his bushy eyebrows in a deep V . “What’s going on, Madison? How’d you get locked in here?”

“Someone … must have locked me in.”

He frowned. “Who’d do that? There’s no one else around.”

“There was. And I don’t know why.” I stepped out into the cold air. The night had grown quiet.

Mr. Farnsright closed the door behind me. “You saw someone?”

“I thought so. It happened so fast. You didn’t hear the horses?”

He shook his head and looked around again. “Seems pretty quiet.”

It was obvious that he doubted my story, and for a moment I was tempted to try to convince him. But how? And even if I did, what was the point? I glanced at the dark dirt road that led down to the parking lot and began to feel nervous again.