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Avalon High Part 22

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The first house by the water-side,

Singing in her song she died,

The Lady of Shalott.

"Turn here," I said to the police officer who was driving me home.

He made the turn down the long driveway to the house we were renting, the headlights from his squad car startling a deer that had been grazing at the edge of the road. Although it was still late afternoon, ma.s.sive gray clouds had rolled in from the bay, blocking out the sun, moving as fast as smoke caught in a breeze. What I'd mistaken for the rumble of rifle fire turned out to be thunder, not practice down at the gunnery.



There was a storm brewing.

"The lights are all out," Officer Jenkins observed, as the house loomed into view. "Your parents aren't home?"

"No," I said. The wind was beginning to gust, tossing the branches of the trees. "They went into D.C. for dinner."

"Want me to walk you inside?" Officer Jenkins asked.

"No," I said. "Really. It's okay. I'm all right."

It seemed like I'd been a.s.suring everyone of this all afternoon-from the time the cops had arrived, to the time they'd finally finished taking my statement and agreed to let me go...right up until I realized I had no way home, and was forced to beg for a ride. With Mrs. Wagner having completely lost it, forcing a chivalrous Mr. Morton to offer to drive her home, and Will having taken off after Marco via the very same window he'd escaped through, Mrs. Klopper and I had been the only ones left to describe what had happened....

And we could barely believe it ourselves.

"Well, I don't like to gossip about students," Mrs. Klopper had said to Officer Jenkins, after Mrs. Wagner had been carefully led away by Mr. Morton, and the two of us were asked to make statements concerning the incident. "But since you ask, it appears-unless I'm mistaken-that Will Wagner's stepmother is actually his real mother...and neither he nor his-well, I guess he's his half brother, Marco-knew it until today."

When the police officer had looked questioningly at me, I had just shrugged and said, "Yeah. I mean...that's what I gathered, as well."

What I couldn't understand, of course, was why Mr. Morton had done it. Why had he come back? Had it really been because of what he'd said-my "guilting" him into it with my speech about how Will would never have left him in his hour of need?

But how on earth was Mr. Morton's getting Mrs. Wagner to admit that she was, in truth, Will's real mother, and not just his stepmother as he'd been led to believe, supposed to have helped?

"Well, grab a flashlight as soon as you get inside," Officer Jenkins said, "so you don't have to look for one in the dark if we lose power. The electricity goes out a lot this side of the Severn during big storms."

"Thanks," I said to the police officer.

"And don't worry about Campbell," he said, in his big, rea.s.suring voice. "I doubt he'll show up here."

I thanked him again, not mentioning that Marco Campbell showing up at my house was the last thing I was worried about.

Then I got out of the squad car and ran to the front porch, fumbling in my bag for my key. Officer Jenkins waited until I'd found it and opened the door before he pulled away, leaving me alone with the big dark house and the approaching storm and the forces of good and evil battling it out over the fate of a long-dead king.

Right.

I let myself into the house, flicking on lights as I made my way to the laundry room, where the professor who owned the house had left a plastic bin marked EMER-GENCY. I pulled back the lid and grabbed the flashlight and handful of candles I found there. Then I brought them all into the kitchen and turned on the television.

The local news was issuing a thunderstorm warning for all of Anne Arundel County. They'd already had reports of dangerous lightning and high winds, coupled with torrential rain and some hail.

Great.

There was a note on the refrigerator. It said, Hi, honey. Leftover ribs in the fridge. Just heat them up in the microwave. We'll be home by eleven. Call if you need anything. Mom.

I opened the fridge and looked at the ribs. But I wasn't really seeing them. Instead, I was seeing the rage on Marco's face when his mother had made her gut-wrenching confession. I was seeing Will, as he'd followed Marco out that window, causing my heart to leap into my throat.

And, okay, it had turned out to have been a first-floor window. And when we'd all rushed to it, we'd seen both boys sprinting for the student parking lot, Marco first, with Will in hot pursuit, clearly none the worse for the stunt.

But I'd happened to glance at Mr. Morton at that moment, and I'd seen the fear on his face. Crazy or not, Mr. Morton was afraid for Will.

And his fear was catching.

I closed the refrigerator door. This was stupid. I couldn't just stay here and do nothing while I knew Will was out there somewhere, trying to deal with a guy who was clearly off his rocker with fury over his mother's unfaithfulness to his father.

I took a deep breath and picked up the phone.

"Here goes nothing," I said to Tig, who was sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor, washing herself.

And I dialed Will's cell number.

A recorded voice told me all circuits were busy.

I flinched and hung up. Well, so much for that.

I opened the refrigerator and took out the ribs. I wasn't hungry, but I had to do something, or I was sure I'd lose my mind. I popped them into the microwave-then jumped, as outside the window over the kitchen sink, a brilliant flash of lightning lit the yard.

The power flickered off, then back on again. Tig, startled, quit washing herself.

I counted, like the kid in Poltergeist. One one thousand. Two one thousand. Three one thousand.

Thunder crashed, sounding nothing like distant gunfire now...more like a sonic boom from a fighter jet as it broke the sound barrier. Tig streaked from the room like a stone from a slingshot, headed for parts of the house unknown.

The storm was three miles away.

I tried Will's cell again. All circuits still busy.

I put the phone down, thinking maybe our lines were crossed. He might, for all I knew, be trying to call me, right at that very moment. After what had happened today, you'd think he'd want to talk to somebody-somebody to whom he wasn't related. I was kind of surprised, in fact, that he hadn't called already.

But there were no messages on the answering machine.

Then again, maybe he'd turned to Lance or Jennifer instead of me. After all, they'd known him a lot longer than I had. It made sense he'd call one of them before me....

A part of me will always love him, Jennifer had said in the ladies' room. Maybe he was on the phone with her right now, and they'd had a chance to talk things out, and now they were back together. Maybe they- I shook my head, wondering what was wrong with me. I was losing it. I really was.

I sat down in front of the TV with the leftover ribs and a tub of potato salad, and ate-without tasting anything-as the newscasters read off all the events that were being canceled or closed in light of the approaching storm: high school football games; various lacrosse tournaments; the county fairgrounds; a regatta.

A reporter in Baltimore, where the storm-which had apparently appeared from nowhere-had already hit, stood beside a car that had been flattened by a tree felled by lightning and warned about the dangers of driving during inclement weather.

Another reporter came on to say that the Beltway-where my parents would be driving home later that night-had been shut down due to a severed power line that had electrified the guardrail.

Another reporter started talking about how this unexpected squall was the storm of the decade, then showed footage of raging floodwaters that washed an SUV right off the road and into a ditch, trapping a family of four inside....

Suddenly, I wasn't blaming Mr. Morton so much anymore for wanting to go to Tahiti.

Which was just silly, of course. It wasn't the powers of darkness causing this storm. The meteorologist came on and talked about nor'easters and cold fronts meeting warm fronts and storm surge and riptides.

Then, just as he was about to advise us what to do in the event of a power failure, a brighter bolt of lightning than any of the ones before lit up the sky outside.

But it didn't turn the sky white, the way lightning usually does. Instead, just for an instant-so briefly that afterwards, I'd thought I'd dreamed it-the sky turned a deep bloodred before turning dark gray again.

Then all the lights went off.

The TV died. The air-conditioning churned to a halt. The digital clocks on the stove and microwave went black. The refrigerator stopped humming. There was complete total silence....

Until a terrific blast of thunder ripped through the sky, causing the gla.s.ses in the china cabinet to rattle.

Then the phone rang.

And I screamed.

I was being ridiculous, of course. It was just the phone. Of course the phone would still work in a power failure-the ones that weren't cordless, anyway.

Still, my heart seemed to be rattling as loudly as the gla.s.ses had, and my fingers shook as I reached out to grab the receiver.

"H-h.e.l.lo?" I said.

"Ellie?" It was my mom's voice, as comforting as a favorite blanket. Just hearing it slowed down my pulse. "We just heard Anne Arundel's supposed to get the worst of this storm. Are you all right, honey?"

"The lights went out," I said, trying not to sound as scared as I felt.

"Yes," my mom said. "I guess that happens a lot. Look in the phone book and call the power company, just to make sure it's the whole district, and not only us. Then sit tight. Daddy and I canceled our dinner, and we're on our way home."

"No, you're not," I said, in a tight voice. "They've shut down the Beltway. A downed power line has electrified the guardrails."

I heard my mother convey this information to my dad. I heard my dad swear. Then Mom said to me, "Well, listen, honey...you got a flashlight?"

I reached for the one on the counter. I didn't quite need it yet-there was still enough light from outside to see by. But I said, "Yes."

"Good. Find a good book to read, and we'll be there as soon as we can."

"Will do," I said. "Bye, Mom."

Outside, lightning flashed again. I hung up and ran toward the window, craning my neck to see whether or not the sky was going to turn the same bloodred again.

It didn't. It did turn a really pretty purple, though.

I picked up the phone. This time I dialed Will's house. Busy.

Then I remembered I was supposed to call the power company, so I hauled out the phone book and found the number.

Then I entertained myself for a good five minutes listening to my options-press one to report lights that were flickering; two, if I smelled anything burning; three, if I was experiencing partial loss of power; and finally four, which I hit, to report a total loss of power.

The recorded voice told me they were aware of the problem and that crews had already been dispatched. I was glad I didn't work for the power company. I would have hated being "dispatched" in this weather.

Then, just as I was contemplating turning on the flashlight and starting my trig homework, the phone rang again. This time when I answered it, I didn't recognize the voice on the other end.

"h.e.l.lo?" It was a woman speaking. "Is, er, Ellie Harrison there?"

"This is she," I said, using the polite phone manners my mother had drilled into me.

"Oh, Ellie, h.e.l.lo," the woman said, sounding relieved. "This is Jean Wagner. Will's, er, stepmom."

Suddenly I was clutching the phone very hard.

Still, I tried to remain calm. "h.e.l.lo, Mrs. Wagner. I...I'm sorry. About what happened today at school."

"So am I," Mrs. Wagner said. "You can't imagine how much. That's why I'm calling, actually. I was wondering if by any chance Will was with you?"

By now I was clutching the receiver so hard, I thought I might break it in half with the force of my grip.

"No," I said, feeling as if my heart might suddenly leap from my chest, it was drumming so hard. "I was hoping you might have heard from him."

"Not since"-Mrs. Wagner coughed-"what happened at the school. I was hoping-I don't know where either of them has disappeared to, and I wouldn't have bothered you except that I know Will's been spending time at your house lately, and I was hoping he might be there-"

As Mrs. Wagner had been speaking, I'd crossed the room to the sliding gla.s.s door that led to the deck. I hadn't looked out at the pool since I'd gotten home, I'd been so wrapped up in the approaching storm.

Now I twitched the curtain back, telling myself that it was all going to be all right. I'd see Will down there, sitting on Spider Rock. I'd pull back the sliding gla.s.s door and yell, "Hey, you big goof. Don't just sit there. Can't you see it's going to rain? Come inside."

Only he wasn't there, of course. As I watched, my favorite raft was actually lifted up out of the water and thrown into the bushes by a powerful blast of wind. The water churned even though the filter wasn't working, thanks to the power outage. It looked like a giant witch's cauldron, set to boil.

I quickly moved the curtain back into place.

"-or that you might have some idea where he could be," Mrs. Wagner was saying. "We checked the marina already, and he's not there...not that he would take the boat out in this kind of weather. I've talked to his friend Lance and to little Jenny Gold, and neither of them have heard from him." I heard barking through the phone line, then Mrs. Wagner's voice saying, "Cavalier! Cavalier, be quiet!"

A second later, she said to me, "I'm sorry. Will's dog...I don't know what's gotten into her. She's normally so well-mannered. The storm seems to be upsetting her. The thing is, Marco...Well, I'm afraid Will might be in some...well, some danger."

"Danger?" The hand clutching the phone had started to sweat now. I could barely hang on to the receiver, it was so wet. "What kind of danger, Mrs. Wagner?"

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Avalon High Part 22 summary

You're reading Avalon High. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Meg Cabot. Already has 1480 views.

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