Diary of the Gone (4 page)

The group erupted in jubilation, and I
couldn’t take it anymore.

“
You’re gonna regret this,
you scumbag,” I managed through gritted teeth as I got up. I’d
never known I could say this to Stan, but here the words escaped my
lips, and part of me knew I’d be eating sand any minute
soon.

The laughing stopped
altogether.

Stan’s face turned red. “What did you
just say?” He clenched and unclenched his fists.

“
He said, ‘You’re gonna
regret this, you scumbag’,” a voice from behind the group
said.

The gang parted to show Wayne and
Audrey. Even though jealous as hell of Wayne holding Audrey’s hand,
I was thankful for their sudden appearance.

“
Didn’t you hear him?”
Wayne locked eyes with Stan who turned livid.

Apart from his dad, Stan was afraid of
only one person—Wayne. No one had cared to elaborate why, but Stan
shut up whenever Wayne would come in sight.

“
We’ll see who’s gonna
regret this,” Stan snarled. Without another word, he and his gang
left.

Wayne came up to me and clapped me on
the shoulder. “We’re right in time, aren’t we?”

“
Thanks,” I said. “You
saved me.”

“
Bastards must know where
they belong.” Wayne flashed a grin as he brushed his long hair
behind the ears. “Stan’s a bucketful of crap. I need to remind him
about it more often.”

Audrey planted a kiss on Wayne’s
cheek, and I turned away from them, not sure what to do.

“
Are you coming to the
Underground with us?” Audrey asked in her melodious voice; it was
sweeter than honey.

“
Erm…” I hesitated,
looking sideways at the approaching storm cloud. “I’m afraid I’ll
have to pass.”

They exchanged glances that I couldn’t
read, then we parted ways. I walked towards the house, the swelling
masses of purple encroaching faster than I expected, darkening the
world to near twilight.

An occasional drop caressed my face
when I entered the yard and went though the entrance door. After a
small talk with Mom, I went upstairs and locked myself in so that
Bev wouldn’t bother me.

Nathan didn’t drop in, nor did he
call. Must have been busy with the Swamps’ explorations. I hoped he
wouldn’t get in this rain.

I unpacked my bag and hid the diary
where it belonged, behind my bed.

Lightning flashed and thunder pealed,
followed by a lulling pitter-patter of the rain.

To my surprise, I hit the pillow and
fell asleep as soon as I closed my eyes. I didn’t have any
nightmares that night.

The next day I woke up rested. The
rain still pelted against the panes, driving slanted streaks of
water at the glass and turning the world monochrome.

There’s no way my
sneakers will last in such weather,
I
thought, pursing my lips.

I grabbed my school bag without
checking on the books I needed to take, and went
downstairs.

My good mood suffered a blow when I
saw Bev. It got bruised even more when I found out Mom had left for
the city. I grabbed a sandwich and poured myself a glass of orange
juice.

“
Can’t you make it half a
day without Mom?” Bev screwed her eyes, her lips curved in a
condescending smile.

“
Why d’you keep mocking
me?” I finally wanted to dot the i’s and cross the t’s with her.
I’d had enough of her picking at me. “You’ve got yourself a
boyfriend here, and back in Phoenix you had squat. You have way
more friends here than back in Phoenix.”

“
That’s
why,” she replied, pointing
at me with her index. I raised an eyebrow at her. “Because you keep
reminding me about it. I like it better when you sit with your
mouth shut.”

She rose and headed for the door,
taking an umbrella from the stand. The only umbrella
left.

“
Hey, aren’t you going to
wait for me?” I asked, finishing my sandwich.

She smirked. “You wish.” Turning the
door knob, she exited, leaving me alone in the gray
room.

Avoiding the pools on the way, I got
to the school gates where Nathan and I usually met. My hair and
clothes were saturated with rain, but I’d already got used to
it.

Students passed me by, but Nathan
wasn’t among them. Soon I was left alone in the rain, and I had
nothing to do but enter the building.

Why didn’t Nathan show up? He’d never
skipped two days in a row. Maybe he got ill? Anyway, I didn’t like
it.

My first class was American
Literature. With twenty-five students clogged up in a small room,
it got stuffy and steamy within minutes.

As usual I sat at the back, glad to be
forgotten. There I could let my mind wander away from the topic of
today’s class.

First I inspected my fellow
students—Jill Spenser fidgeting with her blonde pigtails, Bob
Delaney nearly dozing off, the rest pretending to enjoy Mr.
Jespersen’s euphoria. I peered through the misted windowpane,
finding the outside gray more interesting than Mr. Jespersen’s
speech.

The rain lashed even harder, and I
began to worry about how I would get home without umbrella if it
didn’t stop. Drops trickled in irregular lines smearing the world
into gray-white blobs.

Yet, rain didn’t bother me as much as
an empty seat next to me.

Where’s Nate
gone?

Just as Mr. Jespersen was about to
erupt with more enthusiasm—if possible—there came a gentle knock on
the door, and a senior student poked her head inside. It was
Sandrine Something, I’m not good with last names. She tiptoed in
and whispered a few words to the teacher, placing a scrap of paper
in his hands.

Mr. Jespersen furrowed his eyebrows.
His features darkened, the corners of his mouth curving down. With
all enthusiasm washed away, he cleared his throat. “Attention,
please!” The murmuring stopped as the teacher’s stern eyes swept
over the students’ faces. “This is urgent. Has anyone talked to
Nathan Rushmore within the last forty-eight hours?”

I straightened up in my seat. Tense
silence spread through the classroom like an infection, magnifying
the drumming of the pouring rain.

“
His parents reported him
missing this morning, so if you know anything about where he might
be, please tell us.”

Mr. Jespersen and Sandrine looked
expectant at the silent crowd when a wheezing sound escaped my
lips, “I’ve seen him—”

Chairs scraped against the floor
surface, making me grimace. My own chair suddenly became very
uncomfortable to sit on, and I fidgeted nervously.

The teacher turned to me.

“
Yes, Callum?” he
said.

Damn it,
I cursed myself.

“
He was here yesterday.
Before classes, I mean. I saw him.” My voice produced a vibrato,
and I clenched my sweating fists.

“
Then, Callum, you should
probably go with Sandrine and talk to Chief Coleman in Principal
Crosby’s office, so as not to interrupt our class.”

Great! Meeting with
the Crosbys must be my thing,
I thought
without much enthusiasm. Scooping my belongings, I shoved them into
my bag, then got up to leave. Everyone stared at me, and I looked
down to avoid my classmates’ eyes. I did my best to hurry out of
the classroom as fast as possible.

*

Sandrine and I walked down the murky
corridor without saying a word. I always felt uncomfortable when
left alone with a person I didn’t know, and now was not an
exception. Not paying me the slightest attention, she quickened her
pace, and I had a difficult job keeping up with her.

As if she wants to
get rid of me
, I thought dismally while
scurrying after her.

Heavy currents of water flowed down
the windows reducing the depressing scenery to a blur. The image of
Nathan going away from me towards the forest embedded firmly into
my mind, seeping into the cracks between my thoughts and imprinting
itself there.

I should have come
with him,
I thought.

Principal Oliver Crosby’s office was
at the end of the corridor, away from the classrooms and the noise
generated by the students.

We were nearly there when one of the
windows rattled frantically, the same way as the night before when
I was sitting locked in my room.

Someone’s hand was
clinging to the surface on the outer side of the window, as if they
were trying to push the window like a door to let themselves
in.
What the hell is
that?

In panic, I took the bag off my back,
and clutched it in front of me as a protective shield. The diary
inside would keep me safe. I really hoped it would. The hand’s
fingers started scratching the glass more fiercely, and I squeezed
my eyes shut.

“
Hey,” Sandrine called.
“Are you okay?”

I couldn’t hear the scratching anymore
so I ventured to open one eye, then the other. She stared at me,
her eyebrows knotted in alarm.

I didn’t move or speak.

“
Is something wrong?” she
asked.

“
N-no?” I tried to act as
if nothing had happened.

I didn’t care what Sandrine might
think about me. My behavior could be put down to nervousness before
entering the Principal’s office after all.

“
Let’s go then,” she said,
a bit annoyed.

I ventured a look at the window, but
the hand was gone.

It has to be my
morbid imagination,
I tried to soothe my
nerves, still holding my bag with a bit too much
force.

Sandrine knocked gently on the door,
and a muffled voice followed, “Come in, please.”

We entered a rather shabby-looking
office, with a threadbare fitted carpet and ochre washed-out
wallpaper that gave the room the sepia quality of old photographs.
Even a few silver cups sitting atop an old bookshelf looked
inconspicuous in this gloominess.

Except for the Principal, there was a
broad-shouldered man of about forty, grim-looking, a pen and
notebook in his hands.

Both men switched their attention to
us, and my stomach gave a severe jolt as the policeman looked me up
and down. I had a strange feeling that his eyes saw more than I
wanted.

Principal Crosby gave me a wan smile
and pointed to an old vacant swivel chair opposite the chief’s
place. “Take a seat, please.”

I searched the principal’s face for
any kind of a clue as to what was going on. His red-rimmed eyes and
a forehead lined with worry didn’t mean anything good. No wonder,
with the news of a second boy gone, no one would feel swell, would
they?

Still I was amazed that this humble
man was the father of a jerk like Stan. I couldn’t see any
resemblance between him and the Evil One. Boy, I was grateful for
that.

As I sat down into the uncomfortable
chair, I sniffed an odor of nicotine coming from the man next to
me.

Mr. Crosby turned to Sandrine with
another mirthless smile. “Thank you, dear. You may go back to your
class.”

Sandrine nodded her head, and tiptoed
out of the office.

Principal Crosby took a handkerchief
out of his pocket and mopped his forehead. Another bad sign.
“Callum,” he broke the silence, “this is Chief Officer Geoffrey
Coleman. He’s currently investigating Greg Thornby’s and Nathan
Rushmore’s disappearances.”

It surprised me a bit that Mr. Crosby
remembered my name, though probably it was because of my mom’s
visits and complaints about Stan beating me.

My palms sweated as I took a look at
Chief Coleman. The scariest thing about him was that he looked
absolutely ordinary to me, but there was something about his eyes
saying, ‘I know you are keeping something from me, and I want you
to own up.’

“
As far as I know, you and
Nathan sit at the same desk,” Mr. Crosby said.

“
Yes.” I nodded, then
added, “Sir.”

The Principal nodded as well. “What
can you tell us about Nathan?”

I described him as an outgoing person
who always helped me out.

Chief Coleman cut me short. “Has he
ever mentioned to you that he wanted to leave home for awhile?
Maybe there were some problems between him and his
parents?”

“
Not that I know of, no.
Mr. and Mrs. Rushmore love him,” I said.

I fidgeted in my seat, wiggling from
side to side.

“
Yes, they do, and they’re
worried about Nathan,” he went on in a deep, husky voice, “so we
are going to search for him as soon as possible.” He shifted his
weight from one elbow to the other. “Do you remember when you saw
Nathan the last time?”

Though that was an easy one, my tongue
was dry. “Yesterday morning. Just before the classes,” I
said.