Don't Scream (9780307823526)

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Authors: Joan Lowery Nixon
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thought—too monstrous to ignore—slid into my mind. “No,” I whispered frantically. “No, no, no!”
    My curiosity and fear got the better of me; I untied the bag and looked inside.

CHAPTER
eight
    The trash had been picked up before Mark and I set off for school, but the remains of the strong, rancid fish odor clung to the air. I didn’t tell Mark about Mr. Chamberlin. I couldn’t bring myself to recount what Mr. Chamberlin had said.
    However, before our first class began, I told Lori everything that had happened—well, everything except about the tree “moving.” I still hadn’t come to terms with that.
    At first Lori was indignant at Mr. Chamberlin’s accusations, but she softened when I said, “There was no sign of Peaches anywhere in the neighborhood.”
    â€œPoor Mr. Chamberlin,” Lori murmured.
    â€œMom and I looked everywhere.”
    Lori shivered, wrapping her arms around herself as she said, “I don’t know how you had enough courage to look in that trash bag, Jess. What if Peaches had been inside, all stiff and dead?”
    â€œI had to look,” I answered. “You don’t knowhow glad I was that Peaches wasn’t there.” I slowly shook my head as I thought about it. “There’s something weird about that trash bag, though. The can was filled to the top with tuna. Only a small amount was gone. Why would anyone throw away a whole can of tuna?”
    â€œMaybe it got left out of the refrigerator. Maybe it smelled bad when the Maliks opened it. That’s not such a mystery.”
    â€œI guess you’re right,” I admitted, but I still felt uncomfortable about it. The first bell rang. I pulled my textbook from my locker, slammed the door, and put Peaches’s disappearance out of my mind.
    It wasn’t until noon that I realized I hadn’t taken time to make my lunch, so I had to go through the cafeteria line. By the time I plopped down my tray—with its cardboard pizza, lukewarm applesauce, and runny red Jell-O—next to Lori, she was just finishing telling Scott and Mark what Mr. Chamberlin had said about us.
    I climbed over the bench and groaned. “Why did you tell them?” I asked.
    Lori looked surprised. “You didn’t say not to.”
    I glanced first at Mark, then at Scott. “Mr. Chamberlin’s a bitter, crazy old man. He was just ranting and making up weird stuff because he was upset about his cat. Please don’t pay any attention to what he said.”
    â€œWhich one of us?” Scott asked.
    â€œWhich one what?”
    â€œWhich one did he say was evil?”
    â€œHe didn’t,” I said. “Let’s not talk about it. Let’s not even think about it.”
    Mark ignored me and said to Scott, “Maybe we should ask him.”
    â€œOh, don’t!” I pleaded. “I told you, he’s strange. He’ll just go off on a tirade again and won’t give you a sensible answer. Calling you evil certainly wasn’t sensible.”
    â€œBut I’m interested,” Scott said. “He told you he could recognize the evil. Did he say how?”
    â€œHe didn’t know what he was saying!” I leaned across the table, gripping the edge. “Please! Forget about it! I don’t want to talk about it, now or ever again!”
    When neither Scott nor Mark answered, I stood up and reached for my tray.
    Mark stood up, too, came around the table, and put an arm around my shoulders. Smiling, he said, “Don’t lose it, Jess. If you don’t want to talk about that nutty old man, then we won’t.”
    As I sat down on the bench again, Mark’s smile stretched into a broad grin. “You might say that Scott and I were just being curious. You’d be curious, too, if somebody said either you or Lori was evil but wouldn’t tell you which one. You do understand the word
curious
, don’t you?”
    I had

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