What Would Emma Do? Part 17

"Okay, here's the thing. I need you to promise not to tell anyone what I'm about to tell you."

"Can't do that."

I shut my mouth with a click. I hadn't been expecting that answer.

"Why not? You don't trust me?"

"Nope. I've got no reason to trust you," said Todd, without breaking eye contact. "It isn't that I don't want to."

"But you don't."

"Nothing personal, but I'm not real trusting lately."

Todd's reaction was less than ideal. I wasn't thinking that he was going to be my knight in shining armor, but I had been hoping that he would just fall for my feminine wiles without thinking about things too much. So much for wiles.

"Then I don't know if I can talk to you," I countered in what I hoped was an enticing manner.

Todd stood up and brushed his pants off.

"Well, thanks for stopping by."

"Are you serious?"

"Completely."

I sat there twisting the fringe on one of the pillows while I thought over my options.

"Okay, you don't have to promise."

Todd flopped back down in the chair and motioned for me to start talking.

"I know that Darci and Kimberly are lying about what happened. There was never anyone after them. No one slipped them anything. They took something out at the Barn, some pills, and that's why Kimberly got sick."

"What about everyone else who got sick?"

"I have no idea what happened with everyone else. I'm pretty sure Darci took the same stuff later to make it look good when she had her fit. Or she faked the whole thing. I'm guessing the rest of them are faking it to fit in."

Todd paused, thinking it over.

"I guess it could be psychosomatic."

"Huh?"

"In their heads. It can happen with groups. It's like groupthink. If you tell someone you smell something, you can convince a whole crowd of people they smell it too. There have been case studies where schools have been evacuated because everyone was sure there was some gas or something, kids getting sick, throwing up, you name it, only there really wasn't anything there. It's group panic. You believe it and then your body responds."

"Well, there you go. It's psychosomatic."

"How do you know Kimberly took pills?"

"First, I don't know how well you know Kimberly, but there isn't anything she wouldn't try in pursuit of a party. There was this one party out at the Barn last year, and everyone brought whatever booze they had stolen from their folks. So there was this toxic mixture of orange juice, vodka, rum, beer, coolers, and then some guy brought a bottle of Bailey's Irish Cream. So when the Bailey's met the rest of that mixture, it formed these, like, clots on the surface. Like booze dumplings."

"That's disgusting."

"Exactly. You're not even seeing it, let alone smelling it. It was nasty. Everyone at the party was ticked because now the stuff was undrinkable, but Kimberly fished those Bailey's clots out of the mixture and ate them. That's the kind of girl she is."

"Nice. Still doesn't prove anything."

"I'm telling you I know for a fact that she and Darci made up their story. They weren't home that night, they were at a party out at the Barn. I was there and I saw them. I left before they saw me."

"So if you know, why haven't you said anything before now?"

"It's complicated, but I couldn't. I still can't."

"So you came over here to tell me you know that I'm being blamed for something I didn't do, but that because it's 'complicated' you can't actually help me?"

"But I can help you. I've got a plan."

"Okay," he said slowly.

I leaned forward to tell him my plan.

"We give Kimberly a religious vision and tell her that G.o.d wants her to confess. I'm thinking it should be Kimberly, because it's possible Darci doesn't have a soul. Kimberly is way more naive, too. We have G.o.d tell her that if she doesn't come clean before the show this weekend, her immortal soul is in peril. Real fire-and-brimstone kind of stuff."

"A vision."

Todd didn't sound convinced. I had hoped he would recognize a good plan when he saw one. I'm not saying I expected him to fall to his knees in grat.i.tude, but I expected a bit more of a positive reaction. Then again, it's possible religious visions aren't big in the Jewish faith, and therefore he was underestimating the power.

"Yep. I've been thinking, and I've got a pretty good idea. If we went to the Barn and set up like a gas fireplace fixture thingy, then we could make some kind of burning bush effect. Basically, we need a fire that doesn't burn out. We would have to hide the mechanics, but there has to be a way to do that. You're really good in the sciences, so maybe you could handle that part. As long as she doesn't look too close, it will work. If she thinks it's G.o.d in there, I'm thinking she won't investigate. We'll have to go into Fort Wayne and go to a Home Depot to get the stuff. They would have everything we need to make it work, and no one knows us there. We set it up and then we trick her out there somehow. We hide up in the hayloft and play a tape recording of our voices, so that we can disguise them somehow, telling her to tell the truth or risk burning in h.e.l.l."

"Are you serious?"

"Well, if you can think of something else, I'm open. The thing is, we have to make sure she doesn't recognize us, and it has to be appropriately miracle-like."

Todd didn't say anything for a moment. Then he leaned forward quickly.

"I know! We could do some kind of parting of the Red Sea thing, only instead of the Red Sea it would have to be the pond on the Emerson lot. Maybe with some of those pumps from the hardware store."

"Do you think it would work?"

Todd burst out with a harsh laugh.

"No, it wouldn't work. Neither will your burning bush plan. You start a fire of any sort in the Barn, and between the old wood and the garbage lying around, that place would go up in record time. Then, in addition to the trouble I'm in, I could add arson. Great plan. Thanks for coming over. Maybe later you could get me involved in some other felony."

"I'm not saying the plan doesn't need work." I felt a bit annoyed. "It's easier to criticize other people's ideas than to come up with your own."

"I have a plan. How about you go to the school and tell them your big secret? Tell them how you know the whole thing is a lie."

"I can't do that," I said. "No one would believe me."

"How do you know unless you try?"

"It wouldn't work. I tried telling my own mom and she didn't believe me. I can't."

"Can't or won't?"

"I'm telling you, it's complicated."

"Life's complicated, Proctor." Todd stood, putting an end to our meeting. "You know, I actually thought for a minute that maybe you came out here because you liked me."

"I do like you."

"No, you like the idea of liking somebody different. You don't care about me at all."

"I can't explain, but you have to trust me. This isn't easy for me."

"If you want it to be easy, then you're going to be pretty f.u.c.king disappointed. If you can't handle the complications in a small town, there's no way you can handle someplace like Chicago."

I stood up in a huff, or to be more honest I swam around in the pillows for a few seconds while I tried to heave myself out of the quicksand couch. I pointed a finger at him. "Don't be so sanctimonious."

"Oooh, fancy SAT word."

"Don't be an a.s.s. If you think it's easier in a small town, then you're wrong."

"It's not easy in a big city, either, just easier to hide from s.h.i.t you don't want to face."

I opened my mouth to say something really foul, when Todd's mom walked into the room. She was tiny. I've seen fourth graders who were taller than Mrs. Seaver. She had dark, curly hair and small features. It looked like she was half human and half elf. I choked on the words that were about to fly out of my mouth.

"h.e.l.lo! I'm Mrs. Seaver." She gave me a warm smile. "Did Todd offer you anything to drink? He didn't tell me he was having any friends over."

"Emma just stopped by. She can't stay," said Todd.

"That's no reason not to be a decent host. Boys," she said, looking at me with a shake of her head. "Can I offer you anything? We've got juice and some soda." She gestured toward the kitchen.

"No thank you, ma'am."

"Emma has to be going. She's got all these complicated things on her plate," Todd said.

I felt my lip twitch, but I didn't say anything. I just kept smiling.

"Well, I'll get out of your hair." His mom gave my arm a pat as she walked out of the room.

Todd and I both waited for her to leave and then faced off.

"There is no reason for you to be an a.s.s," I hissed at him.

"There is no reason for me to be nice, either," he said. "This has nothing to do with me. You think you're so different from everyone here, but you're not. You're just like them. Make it look it good, but don't worry about the truth. You can let yourself out."

I chucked the throw pillow at his back, but if I was hoping for an impressive gesture I should have thrown something harder than a down pillow. It nearly fluttered to the floor, it was so light. Todd turned around and raised an eyebrow and then walked out. I took a couple of deep breaths and then headed back through the kitchen.

Mrs. Seaver was taking cookies out of the oven. "Are you sure you have to leave?"

"Yes, ma'am. I was out for a run and just stopped by. I've got a curfew."

"All these ma'ams make me feel old. You just call me Carol."

I wasn't sure what to say. Wheaton is one of those towns where calling an adult anything other than Mr., Mrs., sir, or ma'am is a near-criminal offense. I was no more likely to call her Carol than I was to sprout wings and fly home. I settled for a vague smile.

"Do you want a cookie?" She held out two cookies on a napkin. I reached out and took them. They were still warm. I ate one of the cookies in two bites.

"Thanks. I have to go." I gestured toward the door.

She waved, and I moved to the sliding door that led to their backyard.

"I'm glad you came over. Things have been hard on Todd. It's good to know he has some friends he can count on."

I felt the cookie I just ate start to claw its way back up, and I gave a big swallow to push it back down.

"Yeah, well." I couldn't think of anything to add, so I raised the other cookie in a salute, and headed out. I tried not to look around when I left. I figured Mrs. Seaver didn't deserve to know I was embarra.s.sed to be seen at her house.

I walked about a block and then threw the other cookie into the woods. It tasted great, but for some reason the idea of trying to eat it made me feel like I would throw up. Mrs. Seaver was really nice. I hoped she wouldn't find the cookie I tossed and think that I didn't like her baking.

No one could say that I hadn't tried. I looked up in the sky.

"G.o.d?" I paused, in case he wanted to respond. Nothing except for the chirp of the birds. "G.o.d. I need a sign here. It doesn't have to be a burning bush or anything, but a small sign. Maybe a crack of lightning or something."

I sat down and waited. No lightning.

"Okay, G.o.d? How about if you want me to do something, you have a squirrel run by right now." I looked around. Nothing. "Okay, then how about right now?" I waited again. Not a single squirrel. This is saying something. Wheaton has a significant squirrel population.

I got up and started running home. Whatever happened next wasn't going to be my problem. If G.o.d couldn't be bothered, why should I?

32.

G.o.d, you'll have to excuse me if I don't have much to say. To be honest, I'm getting a bit tired of our one-way conversations. I guess it's a case of if you don't have anything good to say, you shouldn't say anything at all, and I guess neither of us has anything good to say.

If I didn't suck at math so much, I most likely could have figured out the exact number of days, hours, and seconds before graduation. Of course, I still could always learn math. I had the time, because pretty much no one was talking to me.

Joann was too busy hanging out with Darci and her crew. I tried to talk to her about it, but she kept insisting there wasn't a problem, she just needed to help with the dance. She didn't invite me to help or sit at the table with the others anymore, and I didn't ask. I ate my lunch in the library. Awkward conversations with Colin weren't a problem, because he didn't talk to me at all. Todd still wasn't coming to school, and I noticed he wasn't beating a path to my door to apologize, either. Everyone else in school was certain that I was a Jesus-hating freak, thanks to the fight with Joann. New SAT word: ostracized.

The news about Joann and Colin becoming "promised" (whatever the h.e.l.l that meant) was becoming a story larger than the TES terrorist. Turns out romance trumps terror. Girls vaulted over one another to get a look at the ring on Joann's finger. She kept the ring polished to a blinding shine and developed this way of talking where she waved her hands all around like she was constantly in the process of directing an orchestra. Joann and Colin were the first couple in our cla.s.s to "declare their intentions," and everyone thought it was the cutest thing ever. Joann was already talking about wedding colors and flowers, all for a wedding that was still years away in theory. Because I was following a new approach of staying out of things, I didn't once bring up the fact that people who marry young tend to divorce at a higher rate. Plus, I hear they gain weight and start wearing those high-waisted mom jeans at a frighteningly high percentage. I also kept those thoughts to myself.

I was the leper of TES. Jesus might have preached that we should be nice to the lepers, but there weren't any budding Mother Teresa types around here. Everyone avoided me as if I were leaving a trail of rotted fingers and toes in my wake. There are several advantages to being a social pariah: You have a chance to get a lot of homework done when there is no distraction by any form of social interaction.