Sadie entered that closet with Jeff, and Jeff left the closet without her.
For two whole weeks, she was simply gone.
The sun was rising when the riot act had finally been read out in its entirety.
Rene Asmussen
The gist of my further punishments were as follows:
1.
I was now grounded for an additional month.
I would have no contact with Sadie for the indefinite future.
This was at Mr. Carmichaels insistence.
I would not be allowed to take drivers ed or otherwise pursue my drivers license until I turned eighteen.
I considered these punishments to be an outrage and bullshit of the highest order.
The one that stung the most was being cut off from Sadie.
I had a million questions to ask her, they buzzed through my mind endlessly like angry bees.
I was dying of curiosity.
More than that, though, I just missed my friend.
The hell of it is, I couldnt blame them entirely.
I knew their anger arose from laboring under false pretenses.
Why would we do that?
But there were no other answers.
We didnt give them any, at least.
What could we say?
For two whole weeks, she was simply gone.
No one, Sadie included, knew where she might have been.
Those facts provided no answers, only more questions.
Our parents didnt even have that to fall back on.
Thus, we were to blame.
Ghosts, U.F.O.s, Bigfoot, The Bermuda Triangle, unsolved murders, I read all about them.
I wished again and again that I could experience something so strange and unusual.
Well, here I was.
How was I supposed to deal with that?
I scribbled pages of notes, but they were mostly obsessive ramblings.
I didnt see anything.
Sunday night she had caught me staring up at her window.
We locked eyes, and she slowly began unbuttoning her blouse.
Both birds, and a quick closing of her curtains.
She hadnt opened them since.
Just before the curtains closed, I saw her there.
She was in Elizas room, looking right over her shoulder.
Im not even sure Eliza realized she was there yet.
It was usually perfect, not a strand out of place.
Strange, but probably meaningless.
Jill would condense all their discussions into these letters and leave them surreptitiously in the middle of the night.
I hope I stay grounded forever.
From what I gather the others are making do in their own ways.
Ashton painted a beautiful portrait of his sister lounging on her bed.
Did you know he painted?
Khalils parents have kept him too busy to be bored.
I saw him yesterday mucking out the gutters and repainting all the shutters.
Im a poet and heretofore I was unaware of the fact.
Im not sure what Jeff has been doing to while away the hours.
I asked him, but in response, he grinned and made a jerking off gesture.
I doubt hes been waxing the old beanpole this entire time, but who can say?
My guess is that he is waging a grand war with all of his old G.I.
Well, thats enough small talk, I suppose.
You must be wondering about the status of Sadie following her miraculous reappearance.
Sadly, I do not have much to report.
She did not come into school today.
Its already about as old as Ronald Reagans pubes.
I suppose now is the time for privacy and healing.
I will continue to post these dispatches if and when new information arises.
Or if Im bored and feel like writing a letter.
My sister sent me a tape labeled Meat Puppets, but Im not allowed to listen until Im ungrounded.
Your Partner in Crime,Jillian Estelle Peters
Hours passed.
I was so bored I did the reading assignment, which wasLord of the Fliesby William Golding.
I read it cover to cover in that endless second day.
I guess I disagreed with the message Golding seemed to be forcing upon the reader.
Savagery, he maintained, was evil.
Civilizations made wars, civilizations created wealth and poverty, civilizations made slaves of lesser civilizations.
It seemed to me that Civilizations never lost savagery, they mastered it.
Teachers, parents, they were the masters of the lesser race: Us.
Their children, their students.
If I wrote a paper spouting ideas like that, Id get an F. Probably I would.
Piggy, I guess he was the paragon of society.
Piggy was a wet blanket who wouldnt adopt the new paradigm, total savagery.
He died for it, and I guess thats tragic.
He was just a kid, after all.
But what was the point then?
Even if they hold no value in survival?
The savage children hunted the wild boar, they provided sustenance.
What would Piggy have done?
Maybe I saw it all wrong.
More time to reflect.
The next morning I found another letter from Jill taped to the window.
It read as follows:
Hello again, Paul
Dying of boredom.
I stole that Meat Puppets tape while my parents were out.
They either have way too much trust in me or they didnt care enough to hide it.
Weird stuff, but I like it.
I like it a lot.
Cant wait to listen to it with you.
Plateau is probably my favorite track so far.
Had to turn it off before the end so I could get it back downstairs before they returned.
Everyone else is bored but fine.
Not much to report.
Julian, you know Julian Moreno?
Everyone was certain he crapped his pants.
I almost threw up.
At least that distracted people for a couple of hours.
Still getting grilled about Sadie.
What about Sadie, you ask?
Well, no one has seen her.
No one has seen any of the Carmichaels.
What are they up to in there?
Even Eliza is staying home.
Theyre in there, I can tell you that with a fair degree of certainty.
Their cars are in the driveway for one.
For two, you’re free to see them sometimes behind the curtains, moving around.
For three, well, for three theres Khalils story.
If you’re able to believe it.
Khalil didnt care, he was no stranger to issuing apologies he didnt really mean.
You know his personality.
So he goes over to the Carmichaels house, knocks on the door.
Hes about to turn and leave when he sees Mr. Carmichaels head silhouetted through the window on the door.
What do you call those door windows?
Oh, who cares.
Through the door Khalil heard Mr. Carmichael ask, Who is it?
Khalil said he sounded weird, real weird.
He said it was hard to describe.
He could tell it was Mr. Carmichael talking, but sounded wrong.
Not like he was sick, exactly.
Not gravelly or phlegmy, or anything like that.
You know how your speech has a certain rhythm to it?
I think its called cadence.
Does that make sense?
Im sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to say I was sorry for everything.
He only got part of that out.
Carmichael cut him off with that same funky no-cadence speaking voice.
He said, Khalil.
Stay away from here.
You and all your friends.
Sadie doesnt want to see you.
Thats word for word what he said, at least according to Khalil.
You know how he exaggerates.
Well Khalil still wasnt put off.
Half of it was him still wanting to get the apology in.
Reading between the lines, I think Khalil really was sorry about all the trouble.
He jokes around a lot but hes a good guy.
He just wants everyone to be friends, to like each other.
The other half was Sadie.
He just wanted to see that she was doing okay.
Hes sweet on her, you know.
Like half the school is.
So one last time he tried.
He said, Mr. Carmichael, just can I just come in for a minute?
I just want to have a quick talk and then you never have to see me again.
He got about half of that out before Carmichael dropped the real bomb, the show stopper.
Now, I wouldnt repeat this if I didnt think Khalil was telling the whole truth.
You know that, right?
He said, Get out!
Black N(-word), get out!
Like I said, its hard to believe.
You know Mr. Carmichael.
He doesnt have a racist bone in his body, right?
Mr. Watkins is one of his closest friends.
How could he possibly say something like that?
But he did say it.
Khalil swears he did, and he was so upset.
He wouldnt joke about that.
This is really messed up.
I have no idea whats going on, and Im really worried about Sadie.
Sadie had to go somewhere, right?
Maybe theres something about her parents we didnt know.
Maybe they abused her?
I dont know how she could have disappeared like that, but maybe she slipped out somehow.
I cant figure it out.
But I think she ran away and her parents found her and dragged her back.
Does that make sense?
Would her parents pretend she was still gone and hold her prisoner in her room?
Did we spoil something by finding her there?
It would make sense and come together if we had those missing pieces.
Well, I guess thats it and now my hand is cramping.
Ill write again if anyone else learns something.
Your Friend and Confidante,Ms.
Jillian Agatha Peters
I read and reread that letter dozens of times over the course of that day.
I had plenty of other work too, and I slogged through all of it.
All the while, though, my eyes kept darting back to that letter.
What did it mean?
How could Mr. Carmichael say something like that?
What is going on here?
Would we ever find out?
My mind was this horrid tangle of possibilities.
The Carmichaels have been family friends my whole life, longer.
Sadie has been my friend since we were both running around in diapers.
If she was being abused, why didnt she tell us?
How did we not notice?
That was only one possibility though.
Maybe it was the likeliest possibility, but I still couldnt make sense of it.
What else, then?
All of them were ludicrous and improbable.
Or so I decided.
When everything went back to normal.
I was naive enough then to think that everything would always eventually go back to normal.
I know better now, but I shouldnt get ahead of myself.
That was the final day of my weeks suspension.
I never thought I would be so happy to get to go to school.
It was a sickening feeling.
I waited until midnight to see if Jill would leave another dispatch, but no such luck.
Ditto that morning at six when I dragged myself out of bed.
I was disappointed but not entirely surprised.
She would see me at school and give me the lowdown then, surely.
I was expecting more vague strangeness, but not the bombshell I received.
It would be a few hours before I would see her.
Unlike the rest of us, she didnt take the bus.
Her dad took her to school every day before work.
It was supposed to be a sort of bonding time between the two of them, I guess.
She hated it, of course.
Well, she said she hated it.
I received a warm welcome from all the others.
Jeff, Ashton, and Khalil had a banner prepared for me which read, Welcome back, Psycho!
It came complete with a caricature of me smashing the face of Craig/Chris with the soup bowl.
I never lived that down.
Until I graduated high school the other students would feign terror every time the cafeteria served soup.
People I hardly remember still call me Soup Psycho or Soup Nazi every now and again.
The nickname switched when the Seinfeld episode came out in 95.
I wont say that day was great or even enjoyable.
Actually, it was terrible.
First of all, it was school.
School is always terrible.
Secondly, I had to see the counselor during study hall to discuss my anger problems.
I told her I didnt have anger problems, I had asshole problems.
Not the answer she was looking for.
As far as the general school-going public was concerned, she was still missing.
They didnt know anything and they were sick of talking about the nothing they knew.
The first four periods were a blur.
It was Stromboli day, which was one of the few items the cafeteria served that I truly loved.
Somehow no potato wedges I have ever had since have matched them.
Maybe thats just nostalgia, though.
I sat at the usual table with all the others.
Khalil was telling one of his countless jokes.
I missed the body of the joke but the punchline was Hey Murray!
I found the guy who crapped in your tuba!
It must have been funny too because everyone within earshot was laughing their asses off.
The only one not laughing was Jill, who did not seem to be paying attention.
I sat between her and Jeff.
Jeff immediately scraped the tater babies off his plate and onto mine.
He took a healthy scoop of my chocolate pudding, our long-agreed-upon payment.
Jill didnt seem to want to talk, which confused me.
She slipped me a note while no one else was paying attention.
As discreetly as I could, I read it.
The note readMeet me by The Lockers.
Jeff too, if you want.
Wait a couple minutes after I get up.
It always tickled me that despite her punk affectations, she never lost her good habits.
I guess being a punk didnt have to mean being a rude jerk, but it was still amusing.
She wore a denim half-jacket covered in studs and band patches, and the stitching was immaculate.
After downing half of Ashleys Stromboli, I gave Jeff the secret signal to follow me.
Never mind what the signal was, its a secret.
I got up and dumped my own tray on the stack.
Jeff belched loudly and announced, Well, I gotta go take a shit.
Khalil was halfway through another joke and no one took much notice of our departure.
We met up with Jill by The Lockers.
No one used those lockers, which made the dark corner a perfect place for clandestine meetings.
Read: makeout sessions.
Jill was waiting for us there, a hollow-eyed wraith lurking in the dim light.
I wont run away with you, Jill, Jeff declared, my heart belongs to another.
I know it hurts now, but someday your heart will mend, my dear.
Shut up, Jeff, Jill hissed, This is serious, okay?
So why am I here?
Because she knew Id drag you along anyway, I told him.
I guess I just thought you would see me today, I said.
Before I could, I saw something that made me forget all about my mission.
Something that made me run straight home and lock the doors.
Something really freaked up.
She rarely swore, it was just another fun contradiction in her punk rock persona.
I could tell this was not the time to tease her about it.
Swear on our friendship, or I wont tell you.
We raised our right hands and in perfect unison we said, I swear.
She seemed to gather herself for a moment before speaking again.
The neighborhood was damn near pitch black at that point.
It was so still I could hear the blood rushing in my ears.
I didnt think I was feeling any kind of fear or anxiety though, you know?
It was still our neighborhood.
It was this horrible yowl.
Just one yowl, loud and sharp, and suddenly cut off.
It came from Sadies back yard, on the other side of the fence.
Jeff and I exchanged a glance.
So what could I do?
Jill asked, I had to know what made that sound.
So I climbed onto the woodpile in your backyard and peered over the fence.
Thats when I saw her.
Sadie made the yowl?
I asked, flummoxed.
Jill said, looking paler than ever, The cat did.
Ashleys cat, Figaro, made the sound.
Sadie was in the backyard, buck naked, filthy and on all fours.
She was eating it… alive.
Jesus Christ, Jeff said.
I didnt say anything, I was speechless.
I didnt think much of it before, since I had been spending my days in my room.
Thats not the worst of it, Jill said, swallowing hard and looking green.
We looked at her expectantly.
I gasped, I couldnt help it.
She heard me and she looked up, looked right into my eyes.
She just growled through her teeth and ran back to the house.
Her mom opened the door for her.
I saw her just for a couple seconds, but she saw me too.
She was dressed in rags, hanging off her.
She was as filthy as Sadie.
She… she looked like an animal.
Eventually, we all went to our next classes.
I dont remember a bit of it.
All I could think about was what Jill told us.
I didnt doubt her for a moment.
I guess thats why she wanted to tell me.
Someone else would assure her that it was all a bad dream or her imagination.
Some insulting bullshit like that, blunt dismissal disguised as comfort.
People just refused to believe what they thought should be impossible.
The hell of it was this: My belief did not do her a bit of good.
We were on our own.
Worse than that, we were isolated even from one another after school let out.
She couldnt go back home, that much was obvious to me.
She was in danger.
I slapped my forehead, realizing what day it was.
Once a month Jill had a doctors appointment and had to be pulled out of class early.
Im not sure why she had to go to the doctor every month, she wouldnt say.
So much for the running away plan.
I caught up with Jeff waiting for the bus home.
I could see that Jills story affected him just as it did me.
I think I mentioned earlier how sweet Jeff was on Sadie.
Long stranding crush and all that.
Hey, I said, standing beside him.
Weve got to get her out of there, he said.
I agree, I said, relieved that we were on the same page.
They might come for her next.
Jeff turned and looked at me for the first time.
His face was naked, damp with sweat, and his eyes were hollow.
Well get her out of the house somehow, take her to my place.
Are you with me?
The bus was pulling up in front of us.
What could I say?
Jeff was my best friend.
If he asked me, I would have followed him into hell.
It was so much easier back in those days to see things in black and white terms.
You had to back your best friends play.
Even if you were terrified.
Im with you, I said.
Tonight, was his only reply.
Read The Final Chapter Here
