days.” She flicked on a flashlight. “Come into my parlor.”
We turned left and walked into a cavernous room. Bulbous lamps provided dim light, revealing bookcases that reached into the gloom. They were clogged with moldy books. Some of the titles were still visible. Female Behavioral Reformation . Neurological Science. Psychology of Hysterics.
“This really was a library,” I said. All the books seemed to be ancient psychology volumes. It certainly lent weight to the theory that Marlwood really had been an asylum for girls, rather than a school. Some kind of reformatory. The idea gave me the creeps.
“How did you get access to this place?” Julie asked, enthralled.
Mandy shrugged, miming ignorance. Then she took the end of Julie’s ponytail and ran it under Julie’s chin, pulling it upward, like a noose.
“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” Mandy said.
I remembered her black eyes, and I wanted to grab Julie’s ponytail out of Mandy’s hand. I had started to let go of that memory, deny I’d seen what I’d seen—the same way I’d pretended that I didn’t know Jane was having sex with Riley.
I shivered. What was I doing here? What was Julie?
“We have to get you into costume,” she told Julie. “You’re going be a headless Frenchwoman. You’ll chase Alis and Sangeeta in, and when it’s over, then you’ll chase them back out.”
“No,” I said, but it was too soft for them to hear.
“Cool,” Julie said. “What about Lindsay?”
“Crowd control,” Mandy said.
She headed toward the door, taking her flashlight. Julie fell in behind her, and I trailed behind as the dark got darker, the lamps dimming. I turned around one last time.
A ghostly apparition appeared, see-through, standing in a long white dress. Her long, crazy hair—kind of like mine—hung in her face, and her head was bowed. Slowly, she began to raise her head. . . .
. . . And for some reason I couldn’t explain, I didn’t want to see her face. I caught up with Julie and Mandy as they left the room; then, on the threshold and a little braver, I looked over my shoulder.
She had shifted her position, and she was staring straight at me. Her face was chalk-white and her eyes were black—black like Mandy’s, back at the hedge.
I felt a chill. It’s just a girl, a student, someone who’s in on it , I reminded myself.
But she kept staring at me.
“Okay, where’s my costume?” Julie asked, and the girl disappeared in a blink.
“Linz, could you go outside now and keep the animals calm?” Mandy asked sweetly, and I realized I was being booted.
“Julie,” I said, wanting a moment with her. Wanting to tell her that I had a funny feeling—make that a creepy feeling—and I thought maybe she should bail. But she was already flitting down the hall with Mandy, arm in arm, heads pressed together.
“Julie, “ I said again.
I started after them, but Lara stepped into the hall. She was still wearing her hood, her brilliant red hair peeking out the edges. Soundlessly, she raised an arm and pointed toward the door.
I went outside and looked at the house. A crumbling brick chimney hunched between two broken sections of the house like a knobby backbone. Sitting atop it all was a bell tower shaped like a tulip, with curved slate sides, and the bell still there.
There was no moon; except for the lamplight, it was very dark. Skeletal trees stood frozen and unmoving in the frigid night. The windows flashed on and off with their parade of white faces. The face of the dark-haired girl with the black eyes appeared in the window directly across from me. I waved to show that she wasn’t getting to me. She stared.
My unease grew. I stood in the shadows and glanced up at that strange, white face. Instead of Julie, I was the one being singled out. I was sure of it. I just wasn’t sure why.
nine
Girls started showing up at about eleven-thirty. Ida and Claire came over to me, all shushes and giggles. Shayna was back for more
We turned left and walked into a cavernous room. Bulbous lamps provided dim light, revealing bookcases that reached into the gloom. They were clogged with moldy books. Some of the titles were still visible. Female Behavioral Reformation . Neurological Science. Psychology of Hysterics.
“This really was a library,” I said. All the books seemed to be ancient psychology volumes. It certainly lent weight to the theory that Marlwood really had been an asylum for girls, rather than a school. Some kind of reformatory. The idea gave me the creeps.
“How did you get access to this place?” Julie asked, enthralled.
Mandy shrugged, miming ignorance. Then she took the end of Julie’s ponytail and ran it under Julie’s chin, pulling it upward, like a noose.
“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” Mandy said.
I remembered her black eyes, and I wanted to grab Julie’s ponytail out of Mandy’s hand. I had started to let go of that memory, deny I’d seen what I’d seen—the same way I’d pretended that I didn’t know Jane was having sex with Riley.
I shivered. What was I doing here? What was Julie?
“We have to get you into costume,” she told Julie. “You’re going be a headless Frenchwoman. You’ll chase Alis and Sangeeta in, and when it’s over, then you’ll chase them back out.”
“No,” I said, but it was too soft for them to hear.
“Cool,” Julie said. “What about Lindsay?”
“Crowd control,” Mandy said.
She headed toward the door, taking her flashlight. Julie fell in behind her, and I trailed behind as the dark got darker, the lamps dimming. I turned around one last time.
A ghostly apparition appeared, see-through, standing in a long white dress. Her long, crazy hair—kind of like mine—hung in her face, and her head was bowed. Slowly, she began to raise her head. . . .
. . . And for some reason I couldn’t explain, I didn’t want to see her face. I caught up with Julie and Mandy as they left the room; then, on the threshold and a little braver, I looked over my shoulder.
She had shifted her position, and she was staring straight at me. Her face was chalk-white and her eyes were black—black like Mandy’s, back at the hedge.
I felt a chill. It’s just a girl, a student, someone who’s in on it , I reminded myself.
But she kept staring at me.
“Okay, where’s my costume?” Julie asked, and the girl disappeared in a blink.
“Linz, could you go outside now and keep the animals calm?” Mandy asked sweetly, and I realized I was being booted.
“Julie,” I said, wanting a moment with her. Wanting to tell her that I had a funny feeling—make that a creepy feeling—and I thought maybe she should bail. But she was already flitting down the hall with Mandy, arm in arm, heads pressed together.
“Julie, “ I said again.
I started after them, but Lara stepped into the hall. She was still wearing her hood, her brilliant red hair peeking out the edges. Soundlessly, she raised an arm and pointed toward the door.
I went outside and looked at the house. A crumbling brick chimney hunched between two broken sections of the house like a knobby backbone. Sitting atop it all was a bell tower shaped like a tulip, with curved slate sides, and the bell still there.
There was no moon; except for the lamplight, it was very dark. Skeletal trees stood frozen and unmoving in the frigid night. The windows flashed on and off with their parade of white faces. The face of the dark-haired girl with the black eyes appeared in the window directly across from me. I waved to show that she wasn’t getting to me. She stared.
My unease grew. I stood in the shadows and glanced up at that strange, white face. Instead of Julie, I was the one being singled out. I was sure of it. I just wasn’t sure why.
nine
Girls started showing up at about eleven-thirty. Ida and Claire came over to me, all shushes and giggles. Shayna was back for more
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