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I stuck the brochures into my locker, hiding them at school for now, and pulled out my notebook, The Grapes of Wrath, and the rest of my materials for the morning, stuffing everything into my bag.
The bag grew heavier, though, as Will and his friends’ laughter escalated around the corner, my patience and silence spent. I couldn’t sit in class right now.
I wish I could. Show him that he didn’t bother me. That Davinia didn’t bother me.
He should see me tough and unaware of all of it.
It was a game I knew well.
But I slammed my locker door shut and walked down the hall, passing lit class and taking one flight up to the art room.
It was always empty first period, and Mr. Gaines didn’t arrive until he absolutely had to. I’d have the room for another hour.
Dropping my bag at my usual drafting table, I pulled my rolls of paper out of my cubby and slid onto my stool, spreading everything out and getting to work.
The bell rang, students raced down the halls outside the doors, but soon everything quieted, and all I could hear were the teachers beginning their lessons beyond the dark, quiet walls of my little hideaway.
Using my rulers, I continued the redesign of the Bell Tower, the one near the cemetery that had fallen to ruins when St. Killian’s was abandoned so many years ago. I measured the gables, as well as drew lines for each of the small decorative dormers I was adding. It was an assignment, but I’d love to see it come to fruition someday.
Despite my hatred of this town, I loved this place. It’s history. The allure of its secrets and traditions. The mysteries that survived the years and the architecture. So many nooks and crannies to get lost in, not only with places like the catacombs or the Torrance garden maze that used to be open to the public once a year when I was a kid, but the way every avenue and piece of coastline seemed to have a story.
A building out in the world was a building out in the world. Designing something in Thunder Bay wouldn’t just stand on its own. It was being a part of something bigger.
I worked on my design, getting close to finishing, even though we still had weeks left. I wanted to raise the Bell Tower again, make it taller, so you could climb it and take in more of the sea, and I wanted to add more bells.
And maybe a light. A flickering light at the top.
“Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch,” I recited as I sketched. “One, if by land, and two, if by sea…”
But it wasn’t “The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere” poem that popped into my head next. I stopped, thinking.
Or maybe…like a candle—albeit electric—perpetually lit for Reverie Cross up at the top.
I rolled my eyes, shaking my head clear of the idea and dropping my pencil down.
Stupid.
I looked down at my school bag, reaching down and taking the strap.
I lifted it up, digging in the pocket and finding that shiny, bronze bauble someone left tied to my tree last night.
Pulling it out, I dropped the bag and leaned my elbows on the table, inspecting it.
Studying the skeleton key, rusty and worn, I looked again for any markings that might give me a clue as to what it was for, and then I threaded the chain through my fingers, taking a look at the keychain attached.
It was some kind of pot. Or incense burner, maybe?
I turned it over in my hand, confused. Why would someone give me this and then not tell me what it was for? I didn’t think it was Will who’d left it. He would’ve just given it to me when he saw me last night.
And that car parked outside my house…
The only other thing I could think of was that this was evidence and someone was planting it on me, but that was reaching.
Then I noticed it.
The slits on the keychain. In the incense burner.
Like vents.
