School of Deaths (2 page)

Finally, the bell rang for lunch. Mom had packed four sandwiches, three apples, two cans of soda, six bags of potato chips, and two candy bars. Overcompensating again, despite the doctor’s orders to feed her normally. Suzie ate one sandwich and an apple, putting the rest back in her bag. She sat in a corner, not talking to anyone, not even Crystal. She didn’t have the heart.

After lunch, she had math, her least favorite subject. She walked up the stairwell and trudged into class. She sat down and felt a soft squish. A boy behind her started laughing. Suzie got up slowly, eyeing the gum he’d placed in her chair.

She didn’t even tell the teacher. She stood; tearing the wad off her pants, then threw it on the floor and sank back into her seat, hiding her head in her hands. Everything went dark.

“Are you all right?” Suzie sat up slowly. Mr. Thompson, her math teacher, was standing over her, worried. “Do you need to go the nurse?”

Suzie got up. Somehow, she had landed on the floor. She must have passed out. That was new; now the doctors would have even more to worry about.

“Paul, why don’t you help Ms.…?”

“Suzie. I’m Suzie Sarnio.”

“Right. Paul, take Suzie to the nurse’s office, please. The rest of you, back to page thirteen.”

Suzie got her bag and followed Paul to the nurse’s. She had always liked Nurse Cherwell. She had rosy cheeks and always reminded Suzie of a massive gingerbread cookie. Her office smelled like peppermint.

“Oh deary, deary, dear. What’s the matter with you, sweetheart?” Nurse Cherwell had a voice like gumdrops. Suzie had only been to the nurse’s office a few times before. Last year, they’d called her to tell her about Bumper. It had seemed surreal at the time, the year was winding down, and everything was going well. Then she found out her dog had died, and they told her in an office resembling a gingerbread house.

“I fainted in class. Maybe I should go home.” Suzie didn’t need to go home, but why stay any longer at school? The kids were making fun of her, and she wasn’t in the mood for gingerbread.

“Deary, my deary, sweet poor dumpling, oh my. I guess we’ll have to call your mommy and get you straight to beddy-bye, now won’t we, deary dear?” Nurse Cherwell smiled a huge smile full of marshmallow-white teeth and reached down to pinch Suzie’s cheek.

Mom arrived soon after. She spoke to the nurse and gave Suzie a frown.

“Did you eat the lunch I packed for you, Susan?”

“Mom, I ate what I could. You packed a dozen lunches in my bag, and I’m your only kid in middle school.”

“You have to take care of yourself, honey. It’s only the second day of school.” Mom sighed.

For the first time, Suzie sensed how stressed her mother was. Mom wanted to understand what was wrong, but was helpless. She wiped a tear away, trying to hide it, but Suzie had seen. She reached up and gave Mom an enormous hug, wrapping her skeletal arms around her mother’s waist.

“Come on, Mom, let’s go home.”

* * * *

“You okay, squirt?” Joe bounded through her bedroom door. He smelled of sweat and dirt.

“I’m okay,” said Suzie. She sat up in her bed, putting her book aside. “They teased me a lot today.”

“You? My sister? I’ll beat ’em up.” He slapped her on the back playfully, making Suzie slump forward. He leaned closer to her and peered in her eyes. His cinnamon gum stank.

“Tell me honestly.” He lowered his voice to whisper. “What’s going on? You’ve been losing weight since Bumper died. Mom and Dad are freaking out.”

“I’m not trying to scare them, Joe. I’m sure I look anorexic or something, but I keep eating and eating and nothing changes. It must be some disease the doctors haven’t heard about, they’re bringing in a specialist and everything.”

“Suzie?” Joe sat next to her and wrapped his big, muscular arms around her wiry frame. “You’ll be okay?”

“I will be, yeah.”

“Susan,” called Mom from downstairs. A moment later, her head appeared in the doorway. Joe released Suzie and stood.

“How are you feeling honey?” asked Mom.

“I’m fine.”

“Why don’t you both come down for dinner?”

“Okay, Mom,” they said in unison. Joe turned to Suzie and smiled. They headed downstairs and sat down.

“Your father had an urgent call, and won’t be home until late,” said Mom, carrying a steaming dish of delicious-smelling rosemary chicken and potatoes to the table. The doorbell rang.

“I hope it’s not the Mormons again,” muttered Mom, rising.

“I’ll get it,” said Joe. Whenever Dad wasn’t home, Joe tended to act like the man of the house. Suzie wasn’t sure if he was annoying or endearing, or perhaps a little of both. Mom sat down, and Joe opened the door.

“Can I help you?”

A hunchbacked man in a black robe, carrying an immense scythe, stood in the doorway. Something shiny hung around his neck.

“Er, um. H-h-hello. I-i-i-s Su-su-su-Susan here?”

Joe laughed. “Halloween’s not for over a month, man. Why don’t you come back then?” He started to close the door, but the strange man lowered his scythe, propping it open.

“What are you doing?” yelled Joe.

“P-p-please. I n-n-need to ta-talk to Susan,” he stammered.

Suzie gasped, remembering where she had seen the strange man. He was the one who opened the door looking out in the strange dream she kept having.

Mom touched the blade of the scythe and drew her hand back in surprise.

“That thing’s real,” she said. “Get out. Get out of my house!”

“P-p-p-please,” he started again.

“Wait, Mom,” Suzie said, rising. Joe, Mom, and the strange man turned to her. “I want to talk to him.” Was it the man from her dream?

“Susan, sit down,” said Mom, her voice trembling.

“No, it’s okay,” said Suzie. She walked to the door. The man seemed scared, even a little confused. He was probably her father’s age, but was nothing like Dad. His face was chubby, unshaven, and pockmarked, and his blond hair was uncombed. A golden chain with a charm hung from his neck. He raised his scythe and nodded. Joe held the door, ready to slam it, but Suzie stood in the entrance.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“My n-n-n-name is K-k-k-Cronk. C-Cronk Averill.”

“C-Cronk Averill?” laughed Joe. “Is this guy for real?”

“I’ve c-c-c-come to t-t-t-take you b-b-b-back.”

“Take me back where?” asked Suzie.

“You are a D-d-d-d…”

“What?”

“A Death,” said Cronk. Joe reached for Suzie, but before he touched her, Cronk grabbed Suzie’s arm. His speed surprised her. She yelled, but he raised his scythe and lowered it, cutting the air. Suddenly, the house, Joe, Mom, and the entire world vanished. Colors and smells, noises and strange sensations, flowed past Suzie in a blur.

She opened her eyes. She was standing in a field. Cronk stood in front of her, frowning.

“What did you do?” she demanded. “Where are we?” She looked up. It was sunny. But there were two suns.

In-Between

Suzie pinched herself. When she didn’t wake up, she pinched harder. She squinted at the sky again, shielding her eyes.

One of the stars resembled the real sun. Never mind it was night a moment before, at least the sun was familiar. The other sun was farther to her right, and dim enough to gaze at without squinting too hard, though it was still bright. The massive star was about three times the size of the sun,
her
sun
, and was red. An open field of dead grass stretched around them, littered with pillars of crumbling stone. In the distance, a massive building rose from the plain.

“Mr. Averill,” she started.

“C-c-c-call me Cronk.”

“Cronk,” she said. “Where the hell are we?” She pinched herself again. Her thigh stung from the constant pinches. The air smelled bitter, like smoke and bad fish. The dead grass crumpled beneath her feet, as she started to rock back and forth. A breeze blew across her face, chilling her.

“I’m s-s-s-sorry, b-but I h-had to bring you.”

“Where are we?” she repeated. This wasn’t a dream. She didn’t want to believe it, but everything she sensed told her this was real.

“In-between,” answered Cronk. “Th-th-th-this way.” He started walking toward the strange building.

“No,” said Suzie, folding her arms across her chest. “You kidnapped me. You bring me home right now.”

“I c-c-c-can’t,” stammered Cronk.

“Well you’d b-b-b-better,” she mocked.

“C-c-c-come with me, he’ll ex-ex-explain.”

“Who will?” she demanded. “Explain what? Where are we anyway? If you don’t take me back, you’re going to be in big trouble.”

She broke off as Cronk walked away. Suzie glanced around. Staying wouldn’t do any good. She followed him across the plain.

They walked the rest of the way in silence. The place was far
too
quiet. There were no cars, no birds; even the faint hum of insects was missing. The wind blew across the dead grass without making any noise. The only sound was the crunch of their feet and their own anxious breaths. Cronk, she noticed, still seemed nervous. Maybe she was his first kidnapping job. But where were they?

They came to a large iron door, covered in a strange writing like runes. The silver doorknobs were shaped like skulls. Cronk tapped with his scythe and the door swung open without a sound.

“Enter, enter,” called a deep voice from within. “I’ve been waiting.”

Suzie’s knees trembled in fear. Everything sunk in at once. She had been kidnapped, and was alone in some strange otherworld. Her kidnapper dressed like Death, and doorknobs were skulls. Her heart pounded against her chest.

Her
ches
t. Suzie peered down. Something was different. She turned her back to Cronk and lifted up her shirt. She couldn’t see her ribcage. She looked at her arms next. They were thick, covered with flesh. She wasn’t fat, but certainly wasn’t thin and bony.
What
was
going
on
?

“Please come in, Cronk,” called the low voice. “Bring our new arrival.”

Cronk tapped her on the arm. She fixed her clothes and turned around. Cronk watched her with a worried expression, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t. He walked into the corridor. Suzie followed. She glanced behind her as the massive door swung shut.

The air was warmer. The faint smell of rotten eggs lingered around her, mixed with something else, like the slight smell of strawberries. The floor and walls were marble, like a fancy mausoleum. The corridor was well-lit, yet Suzie couldn’t see any visible sources of light. Cronk walked to the end of the corridor, turning into a small chamber.

“Come in, come in,” said the voice again. Suzie walked into the room. Strewn papers covered the floor, and hundreds of loose sheets swamped a massive desk. On the floor near the desk a four foot hourglass stood, slowly draining pitch-black sand.

“Hello, Cronk,” said the voice behind the immense sheets of papers. “Who have you brought me now?”

“You should m-m-m-meet this one,” said Cronk.

“Yes, yes, of course, of course.” The low voice sounded friendly, but perhaps that was only Suzie’s wish. She watched the papers rustle. Something moved behind them.

A man appeared from behind the stack, if he could be called a man. His features were human, yet strangely goat-like. He had two large horns, and walked upright, but hunched over. His fingers were clenched together, like hooves, and his wide eyes were bright yellow and snakelike. His mouth gaped open, showing two massive rabbit-like buck teeth. Suzie suppressed a chuckle at his odd appearance.

“My gods,” he said. “A girl.”

Behind the strange man, working in the corner, stood a boy in a cloak. The cloak covered his face, but he turned and she glimpsed bright green eyes.

“Yes,” said Cronk. “Her c-c-c-contract.” He pulled out a sheet of paper similar to the thousands lying around the room. The goat-like man took the paper and scrutinized it, pouring over every word.

“This is impossible,” said the man.

“What’s going on,” Suzie asked.

“That’s a good question,” goat-man said, “but never mind, you’re here. I suppose we must…” He paused, again staring at her with his wide yellow eyes. He shivered, like a dog shaking after a rain and placed Suzie’s contract on the table.

“Susan Elizabeth Sarnio,” he read. “Age: thirteen. Home: Damascus, Maryland. Parents, brother, yes, yes. Cronk, a word please.” Cronk shuffled through the messy office and lowered his head. The goat-man whispered something and Cronk nodded, leaving the room. The goat-man turned to Suzie.

“Forgive me, I haven’t introduced myself.” He extended a hand which Suzie shook. “I am Athanasius, the Gate-Keeper.”

“I’m Suzie,” she said. “Please, I want to go home. What’s going on? Where am I?”

“You are in the Gatehouse of the In-Between. This is the world between the World of the Living and the World of the Dead. Plamen.” He turned to the green eyed boy in the corner. “Bring my seal.”

Suzie pinched herself again, but Athanasius kept talking.

“I’m sure this is hard to believe. I’ve sent Cronk to get someone who may help you understand. Tell me, in your world did you suddenly lose a great deal of weight?”

“Yes. How did you—”

“Your soul was fading to the World of the Dead. The flesh follows. I’m afraid if you went home now, you would soon die.”

“What?”

Athanasius tapped the piece of paper. The boy handed him a small object and retreated into the corner. When he walked away, he gazed at Suzie again, his eyes flashing green.

“This is a contract,” said Athanasius. “If you sign it, you will need to complete at least one full year as a Death. After your contract is fulfilled you may return, and will have no memory of this place.”

“What do you mean, a Death?”

“A Death,” he replied, “brings souls that have died from the World of the Living to the World of the Dead. You’ve probably seen pictures of hooded skeletons with scythes.”

“Yes, at Halloween. They’re not real.”

“Oh, but they are. The images, like most myths, have a foundation in truth. The Deaths wear robes, which is their uniform. The scythe, which will be explained to you in greater detail later, allows transport. As for the skeletons, well, you yourself witnessed what was happening to you. If a Death stays too long away from the Land of the Dead, they lose their soul and flesh. The bones are always the last to go.”