Book one.Chapter 8

-Chapter 8

The smell of diesel fumes and the grind of the bus engines were not the same that day. For one, she never rode a school bus before. She used to walk to school. So many things had changed that summer. The fifteen year old girl never had so much attention from people. That made her first day at this school all the more unbearable than it was for her already. The word had obviously gotten out about what she did. The neighbors certainly had big mouths.

"Grace Rice?" asked a woman standing at the door. She was in a rich looking tan coat and grey suit. In one hand was a clipboard, and a brown leather bag in the other. Her name badge read Ms. Eleanor. Grace just stared at her, frustration painted on her face beneath the mess of dark brown hair.

"Grace. That's a pretty name. It happens to be my name, too. Let's be friends." said Ms. Eleanor with a warm smile. Grace huffed and kept walking.

"I spoke with your mother over the phone." continued Ms. Eleanor, quickly following the girl.

"She's my sister." Grace said dejectedly without even turning back to Ms. Eleanor.

"Oh. Right. I'm sorry." said Ms. Eleanor. "I imagine this must be a lot different than UE."

"It's small. Smells funny. And my friends aren't here." said Grace. Silent eyes continued to turn to her as she walked down the hallway. Grace tried hard to ignore them. She was about to go around the next corner before Ms. Eleanor gently touched her shoulder.

"Your locker is right over here." she said, pointing. "Number 307. Just remember this is where the three hundreds are."

Grace walked over to where she pointed, scanning along the number tags. She stood for a good minute searching the numbers before pointing at one.

"This one?" asked Grace, looking at Ms. Eleanor for the first time in the eyes. Ms. Eleanor nodded with a patient smile, walking up to it. She took out something she was holding, and placed it on the locker door. It was a magnet in the shape of a strawberry.

"Here. This will help you know which one is yours." said Ms. Eleanor.

"I'm not a baby." Grace said angrily.

"Grace. I know. I'm just trying to help. That's what I'm here for." said Ms. Eleanor.

"And stop pretending like you don't know." said Grace.

"Know what?" asked Ms. Eleanor. The flat stare Grace gave made it clear. Ms. Eleanor came closer, speaking in a soft whisper. "Your sister mentioned what happened. I'm not a counselor, so I'm not qualified to talk you through that anyway."

Grace's attention was drawn to the students on the other side of the hall who were just standing there looking at her. Ms. Eleanor frowned at them before standing between them and placing her hands on Grace's shoulders.

"But, I'm here for you, Grace. I know we can get through this together. Can we at least try?" said Eleanor. Grace looked at her, holding back tears. Then she broke from Ms. Eleanor, walking down the hallway.

"Your first class is English, right?" said Ms. Eleanor, still following. "It's right over this way."

As Grace was guided to the classroom, the boys who were standing across her locker sniggered to each other.

It was a rather long bus ride home. The construction and occasional military envoys made it even longer. In one way it worked out, though. Grace stared at her English textbook, just wishing she could be able to just finish it on the ride. Walking up the driveway, Grace saw that her sister's car was missing from the driveway. As she came to the door, Grace sighed as she dug the key from her pocket. She turned the lights on, and sure enough, the recorder was on the table next to a place setting. Grace pressed play on the old mini tape recorder, bringing it to her ear.

"Hey there, Gracey! The boss called me back for inventory tonight. Sorry. I won't be back until late. I'll have to ask how your first day went in the morning." said the recording.

"Figures." said Grace. The recording continued as she placed it back on the table.

"I left a fresh pizza and wings in the oven. And there's soda in the fridge. Leave some for me! Heh heh... Y'know. You haven't told me what you wanted for your birthday. It's coming up. You still have about a week, so let me know soon, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah." replied Grace, peering into the oven.

"Now, look... I know it's been really hard for you since we moved to Port Crane. You know that if I had any choice at all, we would have stayed in Endicott. Where all your friends are. But we have to leave that all behind us now, okay? We gotta be strong... For each other, we have to be strong. Just like when mom and dad left us." said the recording. The whole time, Grace was busy packing as much of the food as possible into Tupperware. As she opened the fridge, Grace paused as her sister mentioned their parents. After grabbing the soda bottle, Grace slammed the door and headed out of the house. The recording continued as she walked off of the front porch.

"Speaking of mom and dad. I was thinking we could go see them tomorrow..."

The State Park was the only place in real walking distance from Pigeon Hill Road. It was also the only place Grace felt she could be by herself, in a manner of speaking.

"Max! You here?" she yelled out as she was on the Bog Trail. Grace was about to yell out again. She froze at the sight of a stranger walking down from the other direction, as if out of no where.

"Who is Max?" said Jim, adjusting his sunglasses. Grace remained silent.

"Look, kid. Have you seen anything strange around here?" said Jim, showing a badge.

"Nope." Grace said simply, continuing on the path. She put her hands around her mouth and yelled out again.

"Hey, Max! If you're out there, just come to the house! The coast is clear!"

"Kids being kids." Jim mumbled to himself with a smirk, walking along. After a few moments, he stopped as he encountered a peculiar looking foot print. Jim looked back at the girl, in thought.

"Right... Probably." he said under his breath as Grace walked off back for home...

A tapping came on the window. Grace was busy fussing with some project. She was working on it the whole time while she was waiting.

"Use the front door, doofus! It's unlocked!" Grace shouted. Fumbling steps were heard on the porch before the door cracked open. Grace urged him. "It's okay, Max. Come on in."

"Why did you have to call me a doofus?" said Max.

"Takes one to know one, right?" Grace replied with a giggle. Max wasn't laughing.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked.

"I was teasing you! You gotta tease me back. It's proper that way." said Grace, saying the word proper with a goofy flare of aristocratic pomposity.

"You find odd things to be proper." said Max with a shake of his big head.

"Fun. It's fun that way. You really need to work on fun, Max. Now get in here! I've got something to show you." insisted Grace, opening the door wider to let her friend in. Then she suddenly shut the door back on him.

"Oh, wait! You gotta close your eyes!" said Grace, blocking the way as well.

"But I would not be able to see where I am going." Max said uncomfortably as he was squeezed by the door and the frame.

"Silly Max. Take my hand, and trust me." Grace said, taking his hand and waiting for Max to close his eyes.

"Grace. You are acting very strange." Max said as he was guided to the mirror on the wall.

"Yeah, yeah. Now just stand right here for a second, and..."

Grace picked up her project and thrust it on Max.

"What is this on my head?" said Max.

"Just sit still!" said Grace, adjusting it. "There! Now look."

Max opened his eyes to see a denim baseball cap on his head. He fussed with it a little. Grace slapped his hand, turning the bill of the cap backwards. She then poked the hair puff on Max's forehead to force it above the strap.

"This is terribly uncomfortable." said Max.

"Y'know, Max. You remind me of someone." said Grace, looking to the television. She turned on MovieCom and selected Star Trek. Then Grace began her comparison between Spock and Max. The two ate, and enjoyed the show. After a few episodes, Max even played along imitating some of the more humorous lines that came by Spock. They were becoming less and less aware of the passage of time, before the hour was fairly late and Grace had passed out on the couch.

Around one in the morning, a truck pulled up to the house. The front door was unlocked. One by one, the lights were shut off. The television and sound system were turned off with a soft hum. The lamp next to the couch was about to be shut off before the figure noticed something else on the couch. Coming closer, it was just as hard to make out exactly what it was. It was a pale white color all over. It looked like it's head was it's torso as well. A head with arms and legs. After a while of staring at it, the figure's hand reached for the lamp and flipped the switch.

"Must be some sort of plushy thing." she said to herself as she tucked in Grace. The older sister figured the likeness of the plushy was of some new cartoon show that Grace was watching. Yet, one would almost think the thing was breathing.

The next morning, the whole house woke to the sound of pounding at the door. A groggy woman with lengthy dark brown hair. Her brown eyes blinked upon a badge held up by the man at the door. She could barely make out the name, something like Harry Reynolds of the FBI.

"Anne Elizabeth Rice?" said Jim. She responded with a raspy yes.

"Is your daughter here?" asked Jim.

"She's my-" Anne began to respond.

"Sister. I know. Is she here?" interrupted Jim, urgently.

"Well, yeah. She hasn't left for school yet." said Anne, a little more awake as she tried to process what exactly was happening.

"Ma'am, would it be alright if I had a few words with Grace?" said Jim, taking a step in the doorway.

"Um. I just don't understand why she would need to speak with an FBI agent. Um." said Anne, her hand trembling a little on the door knob. She was shaking from the thought of whether she should let the man in or not. The details were so foggy, as her vision still was from just waking up.

"I'll be straight as I can be, ma'am. It is of the utmost importance that I speak with her." said Jim, removing his sunglasses.

"But why? She's just a fifteen year old girl! Are you telling me Grace is in trouble with the federal government when she hasn't even gotten her drivers permit yet?" said Anne, just hoping her assumption was off. Jim reached and put a hand on Anne's arm.

"She's not in trouble with the law. Her life is in danger." said Jim.

"What?" exclaimed Anne, not at all comforted by the hand which she broke away from to walk inside. She let the door open and began pacing around the living room with her hands on her head.

"Have you seen anything strange lately? Anything at all?" said Jim, following behind Anne. She continued pacing, for a moment the plushy came to mind. But Anne was very occupied in thought of the situation.

"Who could be targeting her? And why did they send an FBI agent? What is-"

"Annie." said Grace, catching their attention. "Thanks for the pizza last night."

"Why is an FBI agent telling me that you're in danger? What's going on?" said Anne.

"I dunno." said Grace, with a clueless shrug of her shoulders before grabbing a bowl and a box of cereal.

"What is going on?" Grace asked as she served herself breakfast. She looked inquisitively at Jim.

"For reasons I can't quite explain right now, I need to put you in protective custody." he said, motioning with his hand for Grace to come with him.

"What about school? It's her second day today." said Anne.

"We can pick up her homework on the way." replied Jim, picking up the book bag at the door. Grace took several bites of breakfast before Anne came over her shoulder. With a sigh, Grace got up from the table and began to follow the supposed FBI agent out the door. Anne caught up with her, giving Grace a hug, not wanting to let go so soon.

"Should I be worried about myself?" Anne asked, trying to put the pieces together.

"Another detail will pick you up shortly." Jim assured with a brief smile. Then they were out the door. Anne watched from the doorstep until the car had left the drive way. She took out her cell phone and made a call, closing the door. As soon as it closed, Max dropped from the tree in the front lawn, and began following the car. His limbs stretched to impossible lengths giving Max the speed he needed to catch up...