John Saul - Comes the Blind Fury

“Maybe she sprained it like you said,” Michelle offered.

“That would hurt either the elbow or the shoulder, depending on which she sprained. But the pain seems to be between the joints, not in them.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Wait until morning,” Cal said. “If she isn’t much better, and I don’t think she will be, we’ll take some X rays. I suppose there could be a hairline fracture.” He gunned the engine and pulled away. Michelle turned to look back at the house.

Something caught her eye — a movement, or a shadow, very close to the house. She had a feeling — the same feeling that she had had earlier in Sally’s room. A feeling of someone being there. Nothing she could see, or hear, but something she could sense. And it wasn’t, she was sure, an elm tree.

“Daddy! Stop the car!”

Reflexively, Cal’s foot moved to the brake. The car came to a quick halt. “What’s wrong?”

Michelle was still staring back at the Carstairses’. Cal’s gaze followed his daughter’s. In the darkness he could see nothing.

“What’s wrong?” he said again.

“I’m not sure,” Michelle said. “I thought I saw something.”

“What?”

“I don’t know,” Michelle said hesitantly. “I thought there was somebody there—”

“Where?”

“At the window. At Sally’s window. At least I think it was Sally’s window.”

Cal pulled the car over and shut off the engine. “Stay here. I’ll go take a look.” He got out of the car, shut the door, and started to walk the few steps back to the Carstairses’, then returned to the car.

“Princess? Lock the doors, will you. And stay in the car.”

Michelle looked at him with disgust. “Oh, for Pete’s sake, Daddy. This is Paradise Point, not Boston.”

“But you thought you saw something.”

“Oh, all right,” Michelle said reluctantly. She reached across and locked the driver’s door, then her own.

Cal tapped on the glass, pointing toward the back door.

Making a face at him, Michelle stretched over the seat and pressed the buttons locking the other two doors of the car.

Only then did Cal go to investigate the Carstairses’ yard.

A few seconds later he was back, and Michelle dutifully unlocked the door for him.

“What was it?”

“Nothing. It must have been a shadow.”

He restarted the car and began driving home. Michelle sat quietly beside him. Finally, he asked her if anything was wrong.

“Not really,” Michelle said. “I was just thinking about Sally — I really want her to come over tomorrow.”

“Well, as I said, don’t count on it, princess.” Once again, Cal affectionately patted his daughter. “You like it out here, don’t you?” he asked.

“I love it,” Michelle said softly.

She snuggled close to her father, the strange shadow she had seen outside Sally’s window quickly forgotten.

And I like it out here, too , Cal told himself silently. I like it just fine . The housecall had gone all right. He hadn’t done much, but at least he hadn’t done anything wrong. And that, he reflected, was a step in the right direction.

The next morning, Sally Carstairs appeared at the Pendletons’ front door. She explained that the pain in her arm had completely disappeared overnight, but Cal looked the arm over anyway and questioned Sally carefully.

“It doesn’t hurt at all?”

“It’s fine, Dr. Pendleton,” Sally insisted. “Really it is.”

“Okay,” Cal sighed, reluctantly giving in to her. “Run along and have a good time.” As Sally left the front parlor, Cal scratched his head, then went to the phone.

“Josiah? Have you talked to Bertha Carstairs this morning?”

“No, I was just going to call her.”

“Don’t bother,” Cal said. “Sally’s here, and she’s fine. The pain’s completely cleared up.”

“Well, that’s fine,” Josiah Carson replied.

“But it doesn’t make sense,” Cal said. “If it was a bruise, a sprain, or a fracture, it would still hurt. It just doesn’t make sense.”

There was a long silence at the other end. For a moment Cal wasn’t sure Josiah Carson was still there. Then the old doctor spoke.

“Sometimes things don’t make sense, Cal,” he said quietly. “That’s just something you’re going to have to accept. Sometimes things just don’t make sense.”

Michelle’s eyes devoured every detail of the Paradise Point school as she waited for Sally Carstairs to arrive. It was nothing like Harrison had been — nothing at all. There was no trace of Harrison’s dingy paint, no graffiti in the halls, and the trash containers, neatly spaced along the length of the corridor, were not chained to the walls. Instead, Michelle found herself in a brightly lit corridor, painted an immaculate white with green trim, filled with happily chattering children — children who seemed eager for a new school year to begin. She searched the crowd for Sally’s familiar face, spotted her, and waved. Sally waved back, then beckoned to Michelle.

“Down here,” Sally called. “We’re in Miss Hatcher’s room!”

Michelle felt curious eyes watching her as she moved toward Sally, but when she met the glances of one or two or her new schoolmates, she saw only friendliness in their faces — none of the suspicious hostility that had hung like a dark cloud over the old school in Boston. By the time she reached Sally, Michelle was sure everything was going to be fine.

“Now, you remember what to do?” Sally asked. Michelle nodded. “Okay. Let’s go in. Jeff’s already here, but I haven’t seen Susan — she’s always late.” She started inside the classroom, but Michelle stopped her.

“What’s Miss Hatcher like?”

Sally glanced at her, then grinned at the sudden uncertainty in Michelle’s face.

“She’s neat. She tries to pretend to be an old-maid schoolteacher, but she has a boyfriend and everything. And she lets us sit wherever we want. Come on.”

Sally led Michelle into the classroom as they had planned. They moved directly up to the front row where Jeff Benson had seated himself in the center of the room. Making a great show of innocence, Sally took the seat on Jeff’s left, and Michelle took the one on his right. Jeff greeted both of them, then began talking with Sally while Michelle tried to look surreptitiously at her new teacher.

Corinne Hatcher seemed to be the image of a smalltown schoolteacher. She wore her light brown hair in a tight chignon, and on a chain around her neck, a pair of glasses dangled. Though Michelle did not yet know it, no one had ever seen her wear the glasses — they simply hung there. But Michelle did notice that there was something behind the spinsterish appearance of Miss Hatcher. Her face was pretty, and her eyes had a warmth to them that softened her severe appearance. Michelle was sure she knew why Miss Hatcher was a great favorite with her students.

At her desk, Corinne Hatcher was aware of Michelle’s curious gaze, but made no move to acknowledge it. Better to let the new girl size things up for herself. Instead, she fixed her eyes on Sally Carstairs and tried to figure out what Sally was up to. Obviously, Sally and the new girl, whose name she knew, but not much else, were already friends. But why weren’t they sitting together?

It wasn’t until Susan Peterson came in that Corinne realized what the game was: Susan started toward the front of the room, her eyes on Jeff Benson. Michelle and Sally exchanged a glance, Sally nodded, and the two of them began giggling. As she heard the giggling, Susan stopped, realizing that the seats on both sides of Jeff were already taken, and that it wasn’t a coincidence. Susan glared at Sally, glanced contemptuously at the stranger in the room, then took the seat directly behind Jeff.