The Hand on the Wall(29)

“This is my fault,” Janelle said again.

As the group prepared to cross the green, Hunter paused.

“I need to take the path, if that’s okay,” he said. “I’ll meet you.”

“Why don’t we take the green,” Vi said to them, giving them a knowing look that said, Give me a few minutes with her.

“Sure,” Stevie said. “We’ll take the path and meet you two over there.”

Vi and Janelle crossed the grass, and Hunter, Nate, and Stevie turned to go around the drive.

“Sorry,” Hunter said, “my crutch gets stuck in the grass a bunch.”

“Don’t apologize,” Stevie said. “I think they needed to talk anyway.”

“What do you think is going on?” Hunter asked.

“Nothing good,” Nate said. “There’s no such thing as a good emergency school assembly. Not here.”

All of Ellingham was in attendance in the dining hall. A fire was crackling in the big fireplace in the front of the space, in the cozy study area with the chairs. Most people sat there, draped over every surface, some still in pajamas and hoodies. There was a high pulsing energy in the room. Teachers milled around with cups of coffee. Vi and Janelle were sitting at a table. Vi was trying to tempt Janelle into eating some pancakes, but it wasn’t working. A few tables over, with her face close to her laptop screen, Germaine Batt was watching something intently.

“I’ll be over in a second,” Stevie said to Nate and Hunter.

She approached Germaine’s table and sat down. Germaine did not look up.

“Don’t,” Germaine said.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t tell me I shouldn’t have posted it. I didn’t say it was Janelle’s fault.”

“You said her machine blew up,” Stevie said. “Which isn’t even true.”

“Did you see that thing go? It broke Mudge’s arm.”

“But it didn’t blow up. It . . .”

Germaine shut her laptop firmly and stared at Stevie. “Look,” she said. “I know Janelle is upset. I told the story. That’s it. Just like you looked into Hayes’s death. And how did that turn out?”

It was like Stevie had been punched in the face. She almost physically reeled from the blow. She leaned back, then got up, walking back to the group table in a daze. Call Me Charles and Dr. Quinn came briskly into the room. They conferred with a few teachers by the door, all their expressions serious.

“Not good,” Nate whispered to Stevie.

Charles went to the middle of the study area and stepped up onto a low table made of heavy wood.

“Can everyone gather or look over here?” he said.

The room went quiet very quickly. Stevie could hear the fire crackle from a good distance.

“We asked everyone to come here this morning so we could all talk,” he began. “This semester has been one of the hardest in the school’s history. We’ve never experienced anything quite like it, at least not in our lifetimes. We mourn the loss of two of our friends. Those losses brought about some very serious conversations—conversations about safety, both physical and emotional. We felt that the school and all of you would benefit from continuing the semester. However . . .”

However was bad. Very bad.

“. . . and I want to stress this is no one’s fault . . .”

Janelle coughed back a sob.

“. . . we’ve come to the very difficult decision that this semester should be brought to a close.”

The ripple that went through the room was a sonic event the likes of which Stevie had never experienced. It was a collective intake that seemed to suck away all the air, followed by a yelp, then a cry, an “oh shit” and several “oh my Gods.”

“What? What are we going to do?” This was from Maris. She was sitting on the floor by the fire, curled up like a cat in a pair of velvety black pajama bottoms and a massive fuzzy sweatshirt. She gazed up from her position like a tragic heroine in a silent movie.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Charles said. “First, you don’t need to worry about your academics. We’re going to work out a way for all of you to finish the semester remotely. None of your academic credit will be affected. None of it.”

One relieved sigh from an unknown corner of the room.

“Normally, we would want to give you time to process, to talk, but there is a complicating factor. I’m sure you’ve heard about the storm coming in. It’s looking to be a big one. By this time tomorrow, the roads will be impassible. So, unfortunately, we’re going to have to start the moving out tonight. . . .”

Everything was spinning a bit. The room seemed to elongate. Stevie looked up at the peaked roof with its wood beams, the ones that made this building seem like a ski lodge or some kind of Alpine retreat. She could smell the warm maple syrup, the fire, and that strange funk that all cafeterias possess no matter how hard they try not to.

“I realize that is not much time,” Charles said. “You do not need to worry about any travel—we will arrange and pay for all of it. For those of you who need flights, we’re already getting them set up. Planes are still taking off from the airport this afternoon and this evening, which is why we had to meet this morning. For those of you who are within driving or train distance, we have set up that as well. You don’t need to worry about packing all your things. Take the things you need for this week, and we’ll get everything else to you. We’re going to text each one of your travel—”