The Girls of No Return (32 page)

There was nervous laughter. The foot started jiggling again.

“No guns.” Margaret smiled at us conspiratorially. “I don't know if any of you have noticed, but I like to sleep outside, once, maybe twice a week. Just hike up Red Dot a ways, bed down . . . It's only me and the trees and the stars. And let me tell you, not once have I felt as though even my pinkie finger was in danger.” She waggled her hand in the air to prove it, and then nodded at Amanda. “Okay. I think that's about it. Sorry to take so much time — if you have more questions, I'm around. I just wanted to let everyone know what to expect before the Monday group spilled the beans.”

Amanda smiled serenely. “No problem,” she said. “It sounds lovely. Now,” she said, as Margaret made her way out of the lodge, “where were we?” She called on a raised hand, and Circle Share resumed, but I'm not sure how many of us were very “present” for the next thirty minutes.

Gia was gone before I had even gotten out of my chair.

 

Just as Margaret had said, the Monday Circle Share left for their overnight the next day. Almost everyone was terrified by the prospect of sleeping under the stars with nothing to protect them from what Margaret often referred to as the Awesome Power of Nature. I wasn't one of them, though. A couple of nights out in the cold sounded just about right to me.

Karen was in the first group. When they arrived back at school right before lunch on Friday, she came into the cabin to set her stuff down, wearing her pack and looking like she'd just rolled down the side of a mountain. Jules pounced on her first.

“How was it? Did you see a bear? Were you scared? Were you able to light a fire all by yourself? Are you glad to be back? Did you —”

“Hi, Jules,” Karen said, interrupting her with a smile.

“Give the woman some room,” said Boone.

Gwen jumped off her bunk to help Karen with her pack. I was lying on my bed, pretending not to listen. Jules drummed her fingers on her pant leg in a nervous rhythm. Finally, Karen sat on her bunk, stretched her arms, and told us about it.

“It really wasn't that big of a deal,” she said. “I mean, we were all together for a while, hiking along this path. Margaret gave each of us a map.”

“Was she with you?” Gwen asked.

“No. It was just us. But on the map, you could see where everyone would be camping, so it wasn't like we had to, you know,
find
a campsite or something. So we hiked along, and every once in a while, someone would see the little spur — you know, like a side trail — that she had to take to get to her site, and she'd wave and head down.” Karen fluttered her hand and smiled.

“Where was your site?” asked Jules.

“Oh, I was somewhere in the middle, I think — maybe nearer to the beginning. It was magical: There was a little creek, and a nice log to sit on, and a little campfire circle.” Karen smiled wistfully, like she was already nostalgic. “I mean, guys, it wasn't that scary. I just set up my tent, read a book until it started to get dark, and then made a little fire, heated water on my stove for this soup mix that Margaret gave us, and went to bed. Yesterday, I pretty much read and meditated and walked along the creek. It was transcendent, actually.” She smiled serenely.

“Did you hear anything either night? Like, wolves, or footsteps?” I think that Jules might have been more afraid than anyone.

Karen laughed. “I wouldn't know. I've always been a sound sleeper.”

“You're no help.” Jules sat back on her bunk and crossed her arms. “I need direction here! I want to know what to expect!”

“I've told you what to expect,” said Karen patiently. She paused, as though weighing what she would say next. “But one of the Fourteens — Lindy — she heard something the second night. She swears it was a bear at her site. But on the ride back, Margaret told us that she probably heard a raccoon or deer and imagined it was a bear.”

Jules's face turned white. “Great. A bear.” She turned to Boone. “You've gotta tell me how to scare them away.”

Boone rolled her eyes.

Karen turned to Gwen. “It's awesome,” she said. “You'll see. I wish I could go again.” Gwen's group was heading out the next day.

“Well, I can't wait,” said Boone. “It'll probably be the last chance I get to commune with nature for a long time.”

“Isn't there plenty of nature around Minster?” said Jules. “It's not like you live in Chicago.”

“Nature.” Boone mulled this over. “If you mean old railroad ties and piles of sawdust, the occasional feral dog, maybe some horse shit, then I guess you're right. I live in a wonderland. Can't wait to get back.”

She laughed loudly. It was a new kind of laugh for Boone, one that she had taken up ever since she found out she was leaving. It had a sharp, hollow snap, like the sound that a branch makes under the weight of snow right before it begins to fall.

 

The next day was rather quiet. Gwen's group went on their Solo Trip, and the rest of us pretended not to notice. I guess the girls who had already been on their overnight were jealous and wanted to go again. Everyone else was just in denial.

It was cold on Saturday afternoon; there had been real frost blanketing the ground for the first time that morning. One of the teachers hosted a movie marathon in the Rec Lodge, and almost everyone piled in, jockeying for seats on the two tattered couches that usually rested against the back wall but had been moved closer to the fireplace. They were watching some old G-rated, feel-good movie.
The Journey of Natty Gann
, I think. That, or
The Incredible Journey
. Not hard to get the two mixed up.

Boone opted out, which means she opted me out too. I knew this by the hard knock she gave the back of my head as she made her way out of the lodge. I was only too happy to go. Anything was better than waiting for Gia to walk in at any minute. Plus, because Boone refused to talk about Gia, I found it easier to think about other things when I was with her. Sometimes, I even surprised myself by having fun. We could hear Jules calling after us as we walked away: “You guys! This is the best movie ever!” We let the door swing shut behind us.

“What do you want to do?” I asked, once we were outside. I wrapped my arms around myself. “Man, it is
cold
.”

Boone was wearing a faded black T-shirt that said
Renegade
across the front. She didn't even have goose bumps. “Sissy,” she said. “Fine. Let's get you in some swaddling clothes.”

Back in the cabin, I chose to layer my hoodies, one on top of the other, so that I looked like a puffy gray marshmallow. Boone smirked at me.

“Don't laugh,” I said. “Winter is no time to worry about style points.”

“You sound like a mom.”

“Shut up.” I did my best motherly voice. “
The best protection is prevention,
” I said in a singsong. “Where are we headed?”

As soon as I asked, it hit me. If Gia wasn't in the Rec Lodge by now, there was only one place she could be. I mentally willed Boone to suggest anything other than visiting Ben.

“I don't know,” said Boone. “I guess we could walk around the grounds, pop a squat in the Mess Hall. Waste time, you know?”

“Fine,” I said.

So, we wandered. Boone took me on her “Greatest Hits” tour of the school. “Here's where I got into a fight with a Seventeen, right after I arrived,” she said as we passed the stump of a large pine tree near the Bathhouse. “She didn't know what hit her. I'll tell you what hit her: my elbow. Of course, it was an accident,” she added, glancing at me slyly. “I just turned quickly, and gosh, I hadn't known her face was so close by.”

“Right.”

“And here's where I caught my first mouse,” she said, pointing down at the ground as we walked.

I was about to ask her why, but then I remembered her way of “welcoming” the I-bankers. “You must have been so proud,” I said drily.

She pointed out where she once hid the decorative flag that hung outside of Bev's door. The hole that she had dug in the ground near the Infirmary where she had stashed a Fourteen's candy, covering it with a rock, until she could find time to take it up to Ben's place. Where she smoked a joint with a girl, long gone now, who had somehow managed to get through check-in without Bev finding nearly an ounce of marijuana in her shoes.

“She had these fancy insoles,” Boone told me, “because of her arches. Everyone knew it. What no one knew, though, was that they were hollow. She didn't need arch support. She needed herbal support.”

We walked all around the school, and I learned more about the time that Boone had spent there than I had learned in almost six months. Finally, we made our way back to the Mess Hall. The wind had picked up, and I could see that there were jagged whitecaps all across Bob. The warmth of the hall was comforting. Boone went straight for the coffee, and I sat down at one of the tables.

“You sure have spent your time productively,” I said. “No one could say otherwise.”

She brought us both a cup, and started to pour mounds of sugar in hers. “I know,” she said reflectively, “but my work is never over. There's still so much to be accomplished.”

“You sound like a superhero,” I said.

“Thank you.”

“Hey,” I said cautiously. “Why didn't you want to go visit Ben today? I mean, you don't have that many more chances to see him.”

She looked at me, then down at the table. “Oh, it just wasn't a very good day for him,” she said. “I snuck up and saw him on Wednesday during that history lesson, anyway. But he had some map work that he had to do today or something. I guess I'll go tomorrow.” She looked back up at me and smiled awkwardly. “Hey. You can't fault the guy for working from time to time, can you?”

“No,” I said, though I knew exactly what Ben was doing, and it had nothing to do with maps. “Boone,” I said, “there's something I've always wanted to ask you about.”

Boone stared at me. “This sounds promising.”

I didn't know how to start. “There's this rumor I've heard . . .” I said, hoping that she'd pick up where I left off. But she didn't. She just raised her eyebrows and waited for me to go on. “About, you know, before you came here. A fight with another girl?”

“A fight with another girl,” she repeated. “Hard to say. There've been so many. I'll need a little more information.”

God.
Why had I started in on this?

“Just that, well, I heard that you actually, um, did some serious damage. Back in Minster?” Everything I said sounded like a question.

Boone stared at me for a long while. Then she leaned forward. “I know what girl you're talking about, Townie,” she said in a low voice. “The one I killed with a steak knife. What do you want to know about it?” She kept her gaze level.

“Uh.” My mind was blank. “Nothing. I mean, sorry, nothing. I just —” My voice faltered and I looked into my coffee cup. Did I really want to know what she'd done?

Boone laughed loudly and slapped the table, causing me to look back up.

“Jesus! You really believed me!” She kept laughing as my face turned red. “Steak knife! How cliché!”

“Thanks,” I said. “Now I feel like an ass.”

“That rumor's been going around since I first stepped foot in this place. I've never killed anyone. Not that I wouldn't, if the circumstance called for it. Not that I didn't try once. I guess that's where the rumor comes from.” She shook her head.

“What?”

“Oh God, you know. I threatened a girl once. Bitch asked for it. Maybe there was a knife in my hand at the time. I couldn't say.” There was a sly smile on her face. “At least, no knife was ever reported.”

“What'd she do to you?”

The smile disappeared and a shadow crossed Boone's face. “She was one of those girls, you know. The kind who think their spit's finer than champagne. In Minster, that's a tough act to maintain. But this one did. And she treated everyone — I mean everyone — like they'd be lucky to share a sidewalk with her.”

“That doesn't sound so uncommon,” I said. “What about the I-bankers?”

“Oh, big difference. The I-bankers stick to themselves, like a little colony of bees. They just make their honey and ignore everyone else. This girl was dangerous. She'd find some older guy, string him along, treat him like shit, make him do things for her. She wanted a car? He'd steal one. Someone offended her? He'd beat them up. I mean, we're talking jail time here.”

It struck me quite suddenly with perfect clarity. “Your brother.”

“Damn skippy.” Boone looked out the window. “Oh, she was a doozy. Guy in a bar hits on her — with no flirtation on her part, I'm
sure
— and suddenly he's annoyed her, tarnished her honor or something. So she gets her latest toy to fight the asshole, and what does my brother do? He accidentally kills the guy. Complete bullshit.”

We were quiet for a minute, then I said, “You must have been a lot younger than her.”

“Yup. But I was strong. What's a few years between enemies, anyway? After my brother went to jail, I stopped by her house to show her how it felt to lose everything. Got the knife all the way up to her throat before I chickened out.” She paused. “I do regret that.”

“Threatening her?”

“Chickening out.” Boone turned away from the window.

There didn't seem to be anything else to say, and it was clear that she was done talking about it. We drank our coffee in silence for a few minutes, and then Boone got up. She walked to the door that separated the dining room from the kitchen and pulled a safety pin from the back pocket of her jeans. The cooks would be coming in shortly to start dinner, but for now, we were the only people in the building. Boone worked on the lock until it popped, and she disappeared through the door. She came out soon enough with a plate of leftover cookies.