The Locker (2 page)

“You be careful,” he said.

He was smiling.

But it was the third time I'd heard those words that morning.

And warnings always come in threes.

2

I
t happened before I even got to my first class.

I was hoping it wouldn't take long to register, since Aunt Celia had already talked with Mr. Hayden, the principal, the day before, but by the time I finally got my schedule, homeroom was over and the halls were swarming with kids. I could feel stares boring into me as I came out of the office, but before I could figure out which direction to go, there was a shout behind me and someone tugged on my sleeve.

“Hey, Marlee, wait up!”

The girl at my side was much shorter than I was, and very petite—tiny bones, tiny hands, tiny heart-shaped face—but her laugh carried clearly over the yelling in the corridor and relaxed me at once.

“Didn't you hear me calling?” she scolded and laughed again, a carefree giggle that made me want to laugh with her. “You forgot your locker assignment,” she added, waving a piece of paper in front of my nose. “And of course,
me
—your official guide to show you around!”

Her grin was as contagious as her laugh. Her blue eyes crinkled up into little slits, and she ran one hand back through a short mop of frizzy brown hair.

“I'm Noreen Peterson.” She grabbed my hand and pumped it up and down with surprising strength for such a little person. “Welcome to Edison. You
did
just move here—isn't that what I heard?”

I nodded. “Over the weekend. But we're not really settled yet.”

“It takes a while,” Noreen agreed. “But you're only renting, aren't you? So it's not like you have to worry about bringing a lot of stuff, 'cause the place already has furniture, right? If,” she added thoughtfully, “you could call all that junk furniture.”

She linked her arm through mine and bulldozed me through the packed throngs of students, totally oblivious to their rude remarks and teasing as she ran them down.

“How do you know so much about it?” I asked her, and she stopped again, leaning close with a giggle.

“That you're renting old lady Turley's place? 'Cause my mom's the realtor.” She shrugged and gave me a pat on the shoulder. “But even if she weren't, I'd still know about it.
Everyone
knows when something happens here. You'll get used to that after a while.”

“So who was old lady Turley?” I asked, trying to keep up with her again as she sped off down the hall.

“Edison's personal pain in the butt,” Noreen replied, waiting for me to catch up. “Snooped on the neighbors, complained all the time, had a zillion cats. She hated kids. Always complained we ruined her yard taking shortcuts through it. She loved to yell horrible things at us … so of course that's why we kept cutting through her yard.”

I thought of the little yellow house tucked back from its picket fence, and the huge old trees sagging comfortably over its roof, and the climbing roses on the front gate, and the lilac bushes blooming by the back steps. Mentally I went through each of its small old-fashioned rooms cluttered with outdated furniture and useless antiques, and I thought of the upstairs bedroom I'd chosen for myself, a corner one with sprigged wallpaper and windows on two walls, with views of the backyard and the empty weed-grown lot behind that and the quiet wooden houses that sat next door.

“It's not that bad, I guess,” I finally spoke up. “It's just that the house seems so old, and the furniture is really depressing.”

“Well,” Noreen said philosophically, “Miss Turley was practically a hundred when she died, after all. How much taste could she have had?” She thought a minute, then added, “How come you wanted
that
house? You could have rented one of the apartments over on Cleveland Street—they're gorgeous.”

I felt bad when I heard that. “Well … my aunt likes houses with character,” I said lamely. “And she wanted to live in a real neighborhood for a change. Where she could get to know people.”

“Imagine that.” Noreen looked slightly awed. “I've lived here my whole life and never even thought about it. I've always had neighbors and known everyone in town.” She shook her head and dragged me off again. “Maybe your aunt could renovate that old house—make it nice again? That would sure impress everyone!”

“Do we need to?” I couldn't help asking.

“Need to what?”

“Impress everyone.”

Noreen giggled. “Just the fact that you moved to Edison at all is impressive! Everyone's wondering why!” She sighed and shook her head. “People are really nice here, but they probably won't accept you right away. So don't take it personally. That's just the way it is—nothing ever changes, no one ever leaves, and if you haven't done anything to make the neighbors gossip, they'll make something up!”

She swerved me sharply around a corner, pointing out various doorways as we rushed past.

“There's the library, if you want to call it that—there's the girls' bathroom, one of them, anyway—the newspaper office is that room to the left, and Miss Crane, our counselor—she's old and senile, you know, like what could she possibly know about kids—lurks over there behind that door. Okay—that room—that'll be your homeroom—Miss Arnett, same as mine—the door at the end of the hall leads outside, cafeteria to the right, gym to the left—”

She broke off and waited for me to say something, so I nodded to show her I was keeping up with the tour. As five kids shouted something from the other side of the corridor, Noreen pointed at my head and shouted back.

“The new girl! Her name's Marlee!”

I didn't have to worry about telling anyone hello. Noreen clutched my arm tighter and hustled me off again before I could open my mouth.

“How big was your last school?” she asked.

“Well …” I had to stop and think. “About five hundred in the senior class.”

“Well, there're
two
hundred here, and that's with
all
the classes.” She shook her head and made a face at me. “Before next period's over, everyone will know your name, where you're from, and all the dark secrets of your past. Don't let the stares bother you. I know you feel like you're on display, but the truth is, they're all jealous of you.”

“Jealous of me?” I sounded shocked. “Why—”

“Because you're from somewhere else. And nobody here has ever been somewhere else. Come on, I want to show you some more stuff.”

“But what about class?”

“Hey, this is part of the initiation process,” she scolded me, “and I love being out of class, so I'm going to show you everything I can think of. Which should take all of … five minutes, if we're lucky.”

The bell rang and everyone scattered. Noreen and I stood against the wall and watched kids stream out in every direction, funneling into open doorways until the hall lay empty and still around us.

“I'll take you upstairs. And then I'll show you the auditorium. And then we'll go to your locker, and then I'll take you to class, 'cause I'm going there, too.”

She squeezed my arm and grinned an impish grin.

“Don't worry—in just a few days you'll be breezing around here like you grew up in Edison with the rest of us. And if you need anything at all—I mean
anything
—just let me know.”

It's funny how some people just seem to click with the very first meeting. That's how I felt about Noreen, though I was trying really hard not to. Living with Aunt Celia, I've learned not to make friends too easily because I know I'll just end up leaving them. But Noreen made me
want
to be friends, no matter if I left again or not.

She was right about the school. It took about two more minutes to cover the rest of the classrooms, and then she hauled me out the back door and showed me the athletic field, then the gym, the cafeteria and snack bar, and finally the auditorium. The campus was small but much nicer than some I'd been to—there were trees everywhere and benches and even picnic tables for eating outside on nice days.

“Ahhh, if spring would just get here and
stay
here …” Noreen took a last longing glance over her shoulder as she ushered me back into the main building again, and I nodded.

“I'm not used to your cold weather,” I said.

“It's not usually this chilly in spring—though it
has
been known to snow at Easter!” Noreen sighed. “Things are blooming and we're still stuck in jackets—I want sunshine and swimsuits!” She shut her eyes as if dreaming of summer, and let out a huge sigh. “Come on, let's go to your locker, and then we'll brave Mrs. Clark's history class. If we're really lucky, she'll spend so much time making you feel at home, she'll forget about the test we're supposed to have today!”

I had to laugh. As Noreen raced off again, she glanced at the piece of paper in her hand and quickly scanned the rows of lockers we were passing. Finally she stopped at the end of the hall, and as I caught up with her, I saw her stare at the top locker, then down at the paper, then up at the locker again.

“Is there a problem?” I asked, coming up behind her. “If it's already taken, I'll just go back to the office and ask—”

“No!” She whirled around, and for just a split second her smile had this odd little twist to it, almost like someone had pasted it there on her face. But then it melted into her familiar grin again, and I knew I must have imagined it.

“I mean … no, it's not taken,” she said. “This one wouldn't be taken. As you can see, it's perfectly empty.”

I couldn't really see, because the door was closed, but I followed the point of her finger to the end locker on the top row.

“Here it is,” Noreen said. “Right here. You can go ahead and put your jacket in if you want—the building's always hotter than anyone can stand.”

I was watching her as she talked, but she wasn't looking at me now, and she wasn't looking at the locker, either. Her eyes were fixed on some vague spot in the air above my head, and she was shoving the piece of paper into my hand as if she didn't want to hold it anymore. After throwing her a puzzled glance, I read the combination, then reached up to open the door.

“That's funny.” I frowned. “I can't get the lock open.”

I tried the combination again, holding my breath as I twisted the dial. When I reached the last digit, I pulled at the latch, but it still wouldn't give.

“There must be a mistake,” I told Noreen. “It must be the combination to some other locker.”

“I don't think so,” she said quietly.

“Here. Hold my purse, will you?”

Determined now, I took the lock in both hands, gritted my teeth, and turned the knob slowly and carefully.

“Third time's a charm,” I mumbled, and to my surprise, the door popped open so suddenly that if I hadn't known better, I'd have sworn something heaved it out at me from inside. The impact sent me sprawling back several steps, right into Noreen, who put up her hands to steady me.

“Must have just been stuck,” I said, relieved. “I hope it doesn't do that every time I need to get it op—

I never got to finish my sentence.

As a sickening stench washed over me, I choked and started to gag, dimly aware of hands clutching my throat, clawing for air—

From far away someone called to me, but the hall was a total blur now—dark and brown and runny—oozing down around me in a suffocating flood of darkness.

I opened my mouth and heard the screams.

But not my screams …

Screams of pain … horror …
agony
…

Screams coming from my locker.

3

S
ilence rushed in.

For an eternity I floated there in my strange, quiet darkness, every sense numb beyond feeling.