Shattered Circle

CHAPTER SEVEN

After school, Beverley rode the bus to her normal stop. When she climbed into Celia’s CX-7, as usual, Celia asked about her day. Beverley told her that her best friend, Lily, was absent because she’d gotten to fly on an airplane to Florida, about the experiment they did for science, and about the picture of a unicorn that Bobby drew for her. She still had a crush on Bobby even after he pushed the merry-go-round so fast she fell off and broke her arm.

But Beverley didn’t tell Celia everything.

She didn’t tell Celia that she had barely been able to pay attention all day because she couldn’t wait to get back to the farmhouse.

She held on to the car’s door handle the entire distance of the driveway, her feet dancing on the floor mat, ready to jump out before the car even stopped.

“You’re sure in a hurry to see Errol today,” Celia remarked as she put the car in park.

Beverley usually ran from the car all the way to the barns, but today she wanted to go inside the house. “Can I have some milk first?” she asked as she scurried from the car.

“Of course.” Celia cut the engine. “Check the date on the carton, though. Seph’s been gone.”

“I’ll have a juice, then.” Beverley knew Celia would be doing paperwork for her house-selling job. It was what she always did after school to give Beverley time to go see the unicorn. So she rushed into the kitchen and selected a juice box from the refrigerator, then, as Celia situated herself at the table and began pulling folders from her briefcase, Beverley returned to the front door. She opened it, closed it, slipped off her shoes, and carried them as she tiptoed up the steps, being careful to avoid the ones that she knew squeaked.

In Seph’s bedroom, she stood before the dresser and studied the black obelisk. She wondered why her mom had told her to lift it off its base, but she did as she had been instructed. The instant her fingers touched it, an electric jolt made her fingers squeeze around it. She gasped in pain, but the ache had already faded. She sat the obelisk on its side next to the base piece.

Crossing the room, she dropped gently to her knees and slid the slate out from under the bed where she’d left it this morning. She smiled mischievously as she gathered the slate into her arms, placed her shoes on top, and snuck back down the steps. She peeked down the hall and noted that Celia was sitting with her back toward the barns.

Being as quiet as possible, she opened the door again, slipped out, and shut it silently behind her. On the front porch she paused long enough to put on her shoes, then she walked the long way around the house so Celia couldn’t see her through the window. She jogged across the backyard to the cornfield and toward the barns . . . then she slipped into the rows of stalks.

Following the other directions that had been given to her that morning, she walked until she arrived at the trees. She pushed through the bare branches and into the leaf-strewn open center of the grove. She turned in a complete circle, deciding which of the inner trees was the best.

One in particular caught her eye. It was a thick tree, tall and strong-looking. Its roots were bumpy, but spread out wide and high almost like the arms of a chair. Beverley sat, leaning against this tree, her legs stretched before her, slightly bent. She propped the slate on her angled lap.

With her hands poised over the letters, she whispered, “Are you still there, Mommy?” and touched the surface.