John Saul - The Right Hand of Evil

"Maybe you don't care if we get caught, but I do," Kim snapped. "This was a stupid thing to do in the first place!" She headed toward the door, refusing even to glance back.

Sandy followed her, but at the door, turned to look back at Jared. His eyes locked on hers, and once more she had the strange feeling that he was reaching right inside her, sending a warmth through her that made her almost tremble with pleasure.

Like he's making love to me, she thought. It feels like he's making love to me. Doing her best to control her emotions-and praying no one would notice her deep blush-Sandy hurried after her friend.

Suddenly, she could hardly wait for the sleep-over at Kim's house.

The pizza parlor had emptied out twenty minutes ago, but so far Jared showed no sign of being ready to leave. Luke Roberts was starting to get nervous. Very nervous. For ten years-ever since he'd started at St. Ignatius, when he was five years old-he'd lived in fear of the wrath of the sisters. He'd first learned to fear their swift brand of retribution when Sister Katherine rapped his knuckles with a ruler for passing a piece of chewing gum back to one of his friends, sitting behind him. His hand had bled for the rest of the day, but Sister Katherine wouldn't even let him go put a Band-Aid on it. "If Jesus didn't ask for Band-Aids on the Cross, I think you can stand a little cut on your knuckles, Luke," she'd told him. The rest of the class giggled at the way she talked about Jesus on the Cross, but a single look from the nun silenced them, and Luke burned with shame when the pain in his knuckles made him cry. If Jesus hadn't asked for Band-Aids, he sure couldn't have cried, either. But he'd learned his lesson, and never tried to pass another piece of gum.

He'd also learned not to talk during class, and to stand up next to his desk when he answered a question.

And he'd learned not to be late.

He made that mistake in sixth grade, when Sister Michael was his teacher. Sister Mike-the only nun who let the kids shorten her name-had made him stay after school and write on the blackboard.

I waste my time when I'm late.

I waste the class's time when I'm late.

I waste Sister Michael's time when I'm late.

He'd written the three sentences a hundred times, and when he was done, he vowed never to be late to class again.

And he hadn't, until today. Now he glanced at the clock, trying not to let Jared Conway see him doing it. But Jared seemed almost as good as the sisters at knowing what he was doing.

"What's the matter?" he asked now. "Afraid Sister Clarence is going to make you stay after school?"

"No," Luke replied, knowing he'd spoken a little too fast.

Jared's eyes clamped mockingly onto his own. "'I waste my time when I'm late. I waste the class's time when I'm late. I waste Sister Michael's time when I'm late,'" he parroted, as if reading the words off the blackboard.

Or out of his own mind, Luke thought.

How? How'd he know? He thought back over the last few weeks, when he'd been spending almost all his time with Jared Conway. Had he told Jared about that afternoon when he was in Sister Mike's class?

He must have.

But he hadn't-he was almost sure of it!

How had Jared known?

"I can read your mind," he told Luke the day after they'd smoked the joints in Jared's basement room, when Luke had the weird hallucinations.

Hallucinations that were still so vivid, even weeks later, that he could hardly believe they'd been hallucinations at all. Just last night, before he went to sleep, he'd even imagined he felt the touch of the woman who appeared that night, stroking his cheek and letting her fingers trail down over his neck and chest, caressing his stomach, then reaching lower and lower until-

"Maybe you better go into the men's room," Jared drawled, slouching back in the booth and leering suggestively at Luke.

Luke felt his face burn, and shoved the memory out of his mind. Then he looked at the clock again. Sister Clarence is gonna kill us, he thought. This time she's really gonna kill us.

Jared grinned at him, and winked. "Well, we wouldn't want Sister to kill us, would we?" he said. Laughing, he slipped out of the booth and headed for the door.

As Luke followed, he found himself wondering again if it was really possible that Jared could somehow read his mind.

Sister Clarence stopped speaking as the door to her classroom opened and the two boys walked in, led by Jared Conway. A cold knot of anger formed inside her as she gazed at her newest student, and-not for the first time-immediately begged her savior for forgiveness for her failings. I know I should love all the children, she silently prayed, but I cannot love Jared Conway.

She'd thought about it many times over the past six weeks. Late at night, when she was alone in her tiny cell on the third floor of the convent next door, she occasionally blamed herself for the change in the boy. Perhaps she'd been too hard on him that first day, when he passed the note to his sister, but she'd learned years ago that when children arrived at St. Ignatius from public school, it was never too early to begin challenging the laxity of their habits. That nothing was demanded of the children was the worst failure of the public schools. Not that their parents were much better than the teachers, for the most part. But at St. Ignatius, lack of discipline-mental, physical, or moral-was simply not tolerated, so when she'd caught the Conway twins misbehaving on their very first morning, she hadn't hesitated to discipline them. And Kimberley had certainly responded well. The girl settled right into the routine of the school, and immediately made friends with exactly the right sort of girl-Sandy Engstrom was one of Sister Clarence's favorites.

But the boy was another story entirely. On the surface, Jared seemed unchanged. He was still the handsome boy who had walked into her classroom with his sister, a friendly smile on his lips, a strand of his dark curly hair falling over his forehead.

But something about him had certainly changed. It wasn't something Sister Clarence could quite put her finger on-and her inability to identify the difference troubled her. She found herself dreading his arrival in her classroom, and upbraided herself for it, but despite her efforts to exorcise the demon of anger, it still resided within her. In fact, it was growing stronger every day, and as she saw the effect that Jared was starting to have on Luke Roberts, the demon's strength increased. Now, as her class fell silent waiting to see how she would deal with Jared Conway, she struggled with the demon.

She wished to be fair.

She wished to be just.

He knows what I'm thinking. He knows, and even though it doesn't show in his face, he's laughing at me! The demon anger raged inside her, but she held it firmly in control. "Don't bother to sit, Jared," she said as he moved toward his seat. He stopped as her words struck him, but showed no sign of feeling the sting she'd injected into them. "Or you, either," she added as Luke Roberts slouched toward his desk. Though her words were directed at both the boys, her eyes remained on Jared Conway, held by his gaze like-

Like a mouse staring into the eyes of a coiled cobra.

For the first time in all her years of teaching, Sister Clarence had to struggle to keep her voice steady. "Both of you will report to Father Bernard's office at once." She waited, and for one terrible moment had the feeling that Jared Conway was somehow taking her measure. That he was thinking of defying her. Then he turned away and led his friend out of her classroom. But before he released her from the grip of his gaze, Sister Clarence saw the tiniest hint of a smile playing around the corners of his mouth.