I found Amy by her locker right after English class.
I touched her lightly on the shoulder. “We need to talk.”
The way she jumped, you’d think I’d just jolted her with a Taser. “What?!”
“Look,” I said, “I can’t do the note thing any more. We need to talk.”
I began to notice people staring at us as they walked by. I guess talking to Amy LaBlob was not considered normal behavior at Gierman High School; unless maybe you were insulting or harassing her.
The Germ walked by with a couple of his cronies. He was making these nauseating kissy faces at me while his friends snickered behind their hands.
“We gotta to get out of here,” I said. “Do you have to be home right away?”
Amy shook her head. “No…I…I don’t know. I should call…”
I took her by the elbow and guided her to the nearest exit. “I know where there’s a pay phone.”
I led us away from school and headed for the college. It was only a few blocks away and there were plenty of places where we could sit and talk without being bothered.
Amy was dressed in her usual uniform of baggy overalls and a huge flannel shirt. She shuffled alongside me, barely lifting her feet off the sidewalk, walking like she had ten pounds of concrete in each shoe.
We stopped by the pay phone in front of the library, and Amy called home.
“Gram?” she said. “I’m going to be a little late. I’m going by the…” she looked at the sign above the door. “…library. I’ll be home for dinner. Yes…yes…okay Gram, bye.”
“That your grandmother?” Stupid question.
Amy nodded.
I pretended I hadn’t heard all the gossip Mom had passed on to me about her living situation and asked, “Does she live with you?”
“No, I live with her; her and my grandfather.”
There was something in the way she said it that was clearly meant to discourage more questions.
But since asking questions was supposed to be the whole point of this little meeting, I know I’d have to get past that, and soon.
Soon, but not just yet.
“Come on,” I said. “I know a place we can talk.”
In the space between the back side of the library and one of the lecture halls, there was a small park; just a patch of trees really. A red brick pathway connected the two buildings, and it served as a shortcut for students going from classes to the library.
About halfway along it, another brick path branched off and led to a small paved circle. A stone bench sat on the edge of the circle with a brass plaque mounted on the back: “This bench is dedicated to the memory of Professor Henry Clay Fontaine by the alumni of Gierman College as a place for quiet reflection and contemplation…”
Zach had shown me this spot shortly after we met. It was a good place for us to hang out and talk since no one ever left the shortcut to walk up the dead end path to our little spot.
I supposed the folks at Gierman College weren’t all that big on reflection and contemplation.
“This is nice,” Amy said, sitting down on one end of the bench. “How did you find this place?”
“Um…a friend showed me once.”
Amy nodded. She pulled her feet up on the bench and hugged her knees.
There was a long awkward silence. I became obvious that she wasn’t going to be the one to break it.
I took a deep breath. “Why did you send me those notes?”
She looked away. “Temporary insanity. I thought…look, it was a mistake. It was stupid. I shouldn’t have…”
“No,” I interrupted, “I don’t think it was a mistake. I think you did the right thing. I just want to hear you say why you did it.”
“I…” She clammed up.
Another awkward silence.
This was not going to be easy.
I took another deep breath and plunged in. “Look, you asked about ghosts, about being haunted. Do you think you’re being haunted by a ghost?”
Amy’s face went hard. It was the same look she had when she was being teased. Hard and closed. “Look, I said it was a mistake. It was stupid.” She stood up. “I have to go.”
I stood up too, blocking her way out. “Wait! It isn’t stupid, trust me, I know. Have you seen something? Or thought you did? Have you heard something? Somebody…”
Amy shook her head and started to move around me. “…somebody calling your name?”
That stopped her.
She froze for a minute staring, like a small animal caught in the beam of a flashlight. I went on quickly. “That’s it isn’t it? You hear her calling your name, or you think you do…”
Amy startled. She stared at me hard. “Her?”
“What?”
“You said ‘her’…you said I heard ‘her calling my name’…”
“Look,” I sighed, “I’m going to be straight with you. I know that you’re being haunted…that there’s a ghost…”
Suddenly Amy’s face went fierce. “No!” she yelled suddenly. “No! Don’t you do this! This is one of those crappy pranks you people do, isn’t it? You say all those things about me, and talk about me, and now you’re trying to make me crazy, but…”
She’d run out of words. She took a couple of short breaths, like she was starting to hyperventilate and began to back away.
“No!” I said. “It’s not that at all. Your ghost is real, I’ve seen her.”
She reached down to the bench for her backpack. “This is sick,” she said. “You people…”
I started talking fast. “She’s pretty, Amy. She has hair like yours, down just past her shoulders. And she’s wearing a dress, a summer dress, with like a flower print, sleeveless, like a tank top…”
Amy was frozen, staring at me. I went on hurriedly. “…and a necklace, wait, no, two necklaces. One has a small cross; the other one has a locket or something. It’s shaped like a heart.”
She gasped. Her eyes went big, then huge. “Ma…you can’t know that! You…”
She gulped down another lung-full of air and started backing away. I reached out to her. “Amy…”
Suddenly she swung wildly at me, a big round-house swat that caught me on the shoulder. “Hey!” I yelped.
“You bastard! Get away from me!” She started to sputter. “You…you’re…” but instead of finishing, she turned and ran down the path.
“Amy!” I called, and even started to run after her, but quickly I changed my mind.
What was I going to do? Wrestle her to the ground and convince her that I saw a ghost? Really, there wasn’t anything I could have done that wouldn’t leave me looking like some kind of psycho or a pervert.
Then I looked back at the bench.
She had forgotten her backpack.