The Photographer (6 page)

“Why don't we all ride together?” Robert asked Bunny and Roxie. “Leave your car here. It will be hard enough to park one car near the mall.”

Bunny and Roxie surrounded Derrick in the small backseat, amid much tickling and giggling. Derrick, in a cowboy costume, looked totally out of place and uncomfortable.

“Kiss me or I'll shoot.” Roxie had stolen Derrick's gun from its holster and teased him with it.

Megan couldn't resist spying on the trio as Roxie kissed Derrick and Bunny looked on, giggling, waiting her turn.

“If we get separated, which is certainly possible in this crowd,” Robert said, “meet back at the car at midnight. The crowd gets wilder after that, and surely we'll have had enough of this madness. Agreed?”

Everyone thought midnight was a good witching hour for the end of the fun, and they started off together. Boulder at Halloween was like a Mardi Gras celebration. Throngs of merrymakers flocked to the outside mall, which was closed off to traffic. There was every conceivable costume: yellow Venus pencils and a ruler, old hags and elegant movie stars, all manner of aliens and outer-space characters, three couch potatoes, California raisins, Super Priest, Miss Muffet and her spider, the president, Prince Charles and Diana, pirates, and a wonderful Quasimodo. Soon all of them were squashed together and had to move with the crowd whether or not they wanted to.

Robert and Derrick helped Bunny and Roxie, both five foot two, onto lampposts so they could see and people could see them. Everyone in the vicinity cheered at the beauty of their costumes. The girls struck flying poses and waved their wands.

Derrick, the cowboy with cameras, took several photos of the almost-twins. before crowds swept him, Megan, and Robert forward, separating them from Bunny and Roxie. At every opportunity Robert and Megan snapped pictures. But stopping to focus was almost impossible.

Perhaps an hour had passed when Megan and Robert found they were alone. “Want a Coke?” asked Robert. They were right in front of Pearl's.

“This is madness. Yes, I need a breather. Work some magic to get us a drink and a seat.”

“You love Halloween, Megan. I know that.” Robert ordered Cokes when they pushed out of the crowd and into the restaurant.

“Sort of.” Megan laughed.

A very sad clown came up to the bar where they stood and looked at Megan. She wanted to cry with him, his manner was so woebegone. Instead she put her arms around him and whispered in his ear, “It's all right. Things will get better.”

“If I look sad will you hug me?” Robert put on a long face.

“I only hug total strangers.” Megan was amazed at her sense of abandon. But everyone seemed safe tonight.

They found two chairs near the big picture window and watched the crowd while they sipped their drinks and rested. Suddenly Megan nearly doubled over with a stab of fear. A cloud of pure evil filled her nostrils, cloying, clogging her mind and pores, her body with its nauseous smell. She choked on her drink. “Robert!” She grabbed his arm. “Bunny! Something has happened to Bunny.”

“What—how do you know, Megan?”

“Never mind. I just know it.” How could Megan explain that she had seen Bunny fall from the lamppost? The picture flashed through her mind so quickly she had trouble believing it herself. It was the same kind of knowledge she'd had when Cynthia fainted at the dance, only this time the clear picture was mixed with naked fear.

On the mall they heard the siren pierce the air. “Let's go, Robert. We have to hurry.”

“There's no way we can hurry through this crowd, Megan.” Robert tried to follow Megan, who was pushing people aside frantically.

The sheer number of people held them to a frustrating, creeping pace. Megan tried not to get angry and start screaming. That was what she wanted to do. By the time they reached the spot where they'd left Bunny and Roxie the girls were both gone.

A wizard filled them in on the details. “Suddenly she just fell, the silver fairy. Such a beautiful girl. The crowd caught her, so she wasn't hurt. She was unconscious, though. Her friend went with her to the hospital.”

“I wonder where Derrick is,” said Robert as they headed for the car.

“Forget Derrick. He won't care.” Megan ran as fast as her floppy shoes would allow.

Starting their evening from the hospital, they'd parked north of the mall, so now it was easier to get through the traffic jams to go back. Megan clutched the door until her hand ached, watching Robert inch his way to Broadway and turn right. They parked as close to the hospital as they could get. Megan jumped from the car and ran, not worrying if Robert was behind her, not worrying about what people thought of a clown racing toward the emergency entrance.

Bunny had been checked in through emergency, but her parents, living close to the hospital, had called their own doctor and were getting Bunny a room when Robert and Megan arrived.

“I almost didn't let her go out tonight. She hasn't felt well since before Homecoming. But the lovely costume.… And Roxie begged.” Mrs. Browne looked as pale as Bunny had earlier, now that Megan thought back.

Roxie sat sobbing in a vinyl chair, her costume an incongruity with the sterile, Naugahyde waiting room. “Bunny said she didn't feel good three times. But I insisted. I don't feel so good myself, but I didn't want to miss the celebration. And we had these costumes.” Roxie took a breath. “Will someone take me home?”

There was nothing Megan and Robert could do, so they took Roxie home. Then Robert headed for Megan's.

“Will you come in, Robert?” Megan invited. “I need some company. My folks went to a party.”

Halfheartedly, they put a match to the fireplace, where a fire had been laid. The house seemed unusually cold to Megan. She'd gotten chilled in the late October air, despite long underwear and a sweater under her clown suit. Sitting on the stone ledge in front of the crackling fire, she cupped her hands around a steaming cup of cocoa. But she couldn't stop shivering.

Robert sat beside her and circled her shoulders with a warm hug.

“What's going on, Robert? Have we got some kind of mysterious epidemic at Boulder High?”

“Two people sick? I don't call that an epidemic. And I heard the mention of mono twice.”

“I'd like to think it's mono. I need to think it's mono.” Megan giggled despite her confused feelings. “But mono is contagious. You get it by kissing.”

Robert pulled her even closer. She snuggled in the hollow of his shoulder, not worrying about getting her clown white on his jacket. He kissed her fuzzy head, then her ear, which had escaped the green wig. “Are you going to wear that wig forever?”

Megan tugged off the lime green hair and tipped her face, her painted-on smile, toward Robert, wanting him to kiss her. “I might have mono.”

Robert took the cup from her hand, placing it on the hearth. “I'll risk it, but if both of us get sick, who'll report the epidemic?”

“Miss Hubbard?” Megan giggled. Their journalism teacher was single and would probably remain so unless her personality changed drastically. “I doubt she'll catch it.”

“I've never kissed a clown before.” Robert's lips closed over Megan's.

With the fire behind them and the warmth of Robert's kiss, Megan stopped shaking, but only until Robert spoke.

“What did you mean, Megan?” Robert questioned. “When you said Derrick wouldn't care about Bunny?”

“I never said that.”

“Yes you did. When we were looking for him. I feel guilty about leaving him. I hope he gets home all right.”

Megan stopped listening to what Robert was saying. She didn't remember the statement about Derrick, but she knew it was true. Derrick didn't care what happened to Bunny or Cynthia. And she couldn't shake another idea.

One that was totally crazy.

He had something to do with it.

Chapter 9

Megan talked her mother into going with her to the hospital Sunday afternoon, since a blanket of snow covered Boulder and the foothills. Megan didn't have much experience driving in snow. “You can get groceries or something, Mom. I won't stay long, but a phone call just isn't the same thing as being there.”

She visited Bunny first. Bunny's blond hair fanned out across her pillow, and her face was pale. She appeared to be asleep, but when Megan stood there for a moment, Bunny's eyes fluttered open.

“Megan, hi. Thanks for coming.” Bunny didn't try to sit up.

“How are you, Bunny?” A silly question, but what else to say?

“I'm okay, just weak. It was lucky people caught me or I could have been banged up good. It was funny. Suddenly I didn't have the strength to hang on any longer. I've felt strange for over a week now. Roxie's sick too.”

“Roxie? How do you know?”

“She called me this morning. She's at home. But she says she feels the same as I do—weak.”

“Cynthia's doctor thought it was mono at first.” Megan sat on the edge of Bunny's bed. She didn't mention the other tests that Cynthia had. She didn't want to scare Bunny.

“If it's mono, I know three boys, or maybe more, who'll have it soon.” Bunny giggled, despite lying flat in a hospital bed.

“Get some rest, Bunny. I've got to see Cynthia, and my mom will have a fit if I stay all afternoon.”

“Lay off kissing for a few days until we see what's going on,” Bunny advised.

Megan laughed and headed out the door and down the hall. Then her smile faded. Cynthia seemed to be asleep. Her mom sat on the bed, holding Cynthia's hand. Mr. Harlow sat in a nearby chair. Cynthia's face was ashen.

Megan looked from Cynthia to Mrs. Harlow and then Cynthia's father. He answered the unspoken questions. “The doctors are confounded. The tests reveal nothing, but she's gotten worse since last night.”

“We appreciate your cheering her up with the decorations, Megan.” Mrs. Harlow tried to smile. The witch behind Cynthia's bed hung askew, the tape losing its stickiness. One streamer was down, crumpled in the corner. Cynthia's roommate was gone. Mrs. Harlow saw Megan glance at the empty bed. “Since the doctors didn't know what they were dealing with, they moved Geri out.”

“Three girls are sick.” Megan told them about Bunny and Roxie's illness.

Cynthia didn't wake up while Megan was there. After about ten minutes, she felt uncomfortable sitting there. No one knew what to say. So Megan excused herself and left, promising to stay in touch.

Megan's mother questioned her in the car. “Did any of you eat at the same place recently?”

“The school cafeteria. But if that's where this came from, everyone would be sick.”

“Do you feel all right, Megan? I don't want to go on my trip if you're getting sick.” Her mom had a modeling trip to the Caribbean coming up.

Megan felt awful, but it was mental, not physical. “I'm fine, Mom. Don't start worrying. I don't know what's going on, but I'm going to find out. I'm not a reporter for nothing. There has to be something in common with these three girls.”

Three turned to six on Monday after the rumors were tracked down. Candy Gilford, Marva James, and Lora Santana were absent. All the Homecoming attendants were ill. So maybe the illness had something to do with the Homecoming festivities or a time that these girls were all together. Did they eat or drink anything in common during the ceremonies? Or during practice?

Before Megan could start any investigation, Mrs. Leffingwell, the assistant principal, called her in. Now what? Megan couldn't take much more trouble.

“Megan,” Mrs. Leffingwell said, getting right to the point. The last three issues of
The Owl
were spread on her desk. “I'm not a fanatic about women's lib, but I'm not too happy with the trend your photography for the paper is taking.”

“What do you mean, Mrs. Leffingwell? I feel that the photography for this year is excellent.”

“It's not the quality of your work, Megan, it's the subject matter. Look. Beauty, beauty, beauty. Homecoming queens, attendants, two issues of that. Pretty girls in costume for Halloween. I know it's news, and that it's the time of year for all this, but can't you balance it out with other photos—women athletes, women in the chem lab, not to mention some boys who aren't on the football team?”

“Mmmm, I guess you're right.” Megan understood what Mrs. Leffingwell was saying. Not being one of the school beauties, she should have been sensitive to it herself. But she didn't expect to have her picture splattered over every page.

“I followed this a little farther, Megan.” Mrs. Leffingwell placed a folder full of photos on the desk and spread them out like cards in a player's hand. “These are the recent photos that have come in for inclusion in the annual. The same type of photos, school beauties. Even all the informal shots are of these girls. There's not one photo of the student council president, Jolene Peterson. No photos of the girls' gymnastics activities, the other girls' sports this semester. Maybe you planned to take those later, but if you don't get some soon, those sports will be over.”

Megan studied the photos over Mrs. Leffingwell's shoulder. “I'm sorry you had to call this to my attention, Mrs. Leffingwell. I should be more aware in my job. Robert might not notice this, but I should. May I borrow all these photos so I can make a presentation to the staff in the morning?”

“Certainly. But return them to the annual when you're finished. They may want to use some of them—or even all, if they're balanced out with other pictures. Selections aren't anywhere near final yet. And I'm sure you'll remedy this problem in next week's newspaper.” Mrs. L. smiled an I-knew-you'd-agree smile and dismissed Megan.

Megan's mind swirled with thoughts that were trying to come together. She clutched the stack of slick, pasteboard images on top of her books and disappeared into the newspaper office. She'd cut her last two classes.