Sarah Benadine is Dead

Chapter XVIII, Part I

They waited until Saturday. There was no time to be found elsewhere. They did not even really know they were waiting. But when the time came they knew it had and were as ready as they would ever be.

Ginger and Ollie had shown Shannon, Jared, Dexter, and Caleb the papers Ollie had found the day after she'd found them. They'd gathered in the library, so far back they were in the hopelessly outdated references, and Ollie had gingerly—almost reverently—produced the old pages from her bag. It was a wonder they didn't disintegrate.

Caleb Vance's stomach had dropped all the way into his left shoe the moment he'd gotten his first glance at those papers, and he hadn't even seen what was on them yet. It was like he knew just looking at them, seeing how old and brittle and timeless they were, what would be on them. Ollie's eyes were shifting too frequently, Ginger's smile too bright and forceful. He'd turned to Shannon and found her gnawing on the inside of her cheek.

Four days later they met in front of Briargate underneath the trees. Puffy gray clouds blocked out the sun, but it was warm. As far as anyone knew—as far as anyone had said—they were just meeting up to hang out. They did most Saturdays anyway, especially now that the winter had passed. But Caleb supposed all of them felt the pull, the drag towards something they'd almost certainly regret.

Looking back, Caleb would never be able to explain why they did it. He could not explain why they did most of the things they did that year. Not in a way that anyone who hadn't experienced it would truly understand, anyway. Some would think it was heroics, but he didn't think that was it. Others may place votes on sheer stupidity, and he thought that that was a little bit closer but still not the complete mark. There was something more that was like idiocy and like disregard and like—

Desperation

—a thousand other things. That was it, Caleb would think. Whatever that was, that was it. That was the reason. It was shaky and a little bit broken, but so were a lot of things during that time. Perhaps it made perfect sense to not make any sense at all.

Ollie was wearing a pair of her overalls, the one with the giant pocket on the front. A pocket big enough to house a couple folded up sheets of paper. There were ribbons in her hair, thick green ones that matched her eyes. She looked skittish, more so than usual. That was all the confirmation needed to know that he wasn't the only thinking what he was. She kept biting at her fingernails, a nasty habit that he was sure would take her quite some time to be rid of. Granted, no one else seemed to be fairing much better.

"Might rain," Jared said when they'd all convened, like anyone cared.

"Yeah," Caleb agreed anyway. It wasn't thunderstorm weather, but a light rain maybe. Later.

There was a long silence between the six of them. So long it was almost ridiculous. There were other kids out and about, students of all ages. Caleb found himself absently looking for Allison. She wouldn't be there, he knew. She'd gone home for the weekend again. Even if she hadn't, he didn't really think she'd be outside. Not with the way she'd been acting lately. He'd talked to her on occasion after the night in March, but she'd made it clear that she wasn't really in the mood to be around...anyone. He supposed he could sympathize.

"So Jared and I were talking," Dexter said, just when Caleb felt a little like screaming just to make some noise. "We were thinking that maybe we should—"

"Yeah," Ginger said quietly. She looked expectantly at Ollie. "Did you bring...?"

Ollie bit at the side of her thumbnail and nodded, looking at the ground. They already knew that. Caleb did, anyway.