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“That’s kind of weird, don’t you think?” I say.
Henri shrugs. “Apparently he’s no stranger to car rides. Let him in. ”
I open the door and he jumps in. He sits in the middle seat with his tongue dangling. When we pull out of the driveway he moves into my lap and paws at the window. I roll it down and he sticks half his body out, mouth still open, the wind flapping his ears. Three miles later Henri pulls in to the school. I open the door and Bernie Kosar jumps out ahead of me. I lift him back into the truck but he jumps right back out. I lift him back in again and have to block him from jumping out while I close the truck door. He stands on his hind legs with his front paws on the ledge of the door, the window still down. I pat him on the head.
“Have your gloves?” Henri asks.
“Yep. ”
“Phone?”
“Yep. ”
“How do you feel?”
“I feel good,” I say.
“Okay. Call me if you have any sort of trouble. ”
He pulls away and Bernie Kosar watches from the back window until the truck disappears around the turn.
I feel a similar nervousness as I did the day before, but for different reasons
. Part of me wants to see Sarah right away, though part of me hopes that I don’t see her at all. I’m not sure what I’ll say to her. What if I can’t think of anything at all and stand there looking foolish? What if she’s with Mark when I see her? Should I acknowledge her and risk another confrontation, or just walk by and pretend that I don’t see either of them? At the very least I’ll see them both in second period. There’s no getting around that.
I head to my locker. My bag is filled with books I was supposed to read the night before but never opened. Too many thoughts and images running through my head. They haven’t gone away and it’s hard to imagine they ever will. It was all so different from what I expected. Death isn’t like what they show you in the movies. The sounds, the looks, the smells. So different.
At my locker I notice immediately that something’s off. The metal handle is covered with dirt, or what looks like dirt. I’m not sure if I should open it, but then I take a deep breath and force the handle up.
The locker is half filled with manure and as I swing the door open, much of it comes pouring out onto the floor, covering my shoes. The smell is horrendous. I slam the door shut. Sam Goode was standing behind it and his sudden appearance from out of nowhere startles me. He is looking forlorn, wearing a white NASA T-shirt only slightly different from the one he wore yesterday.
“Hi, Sam,” I say.
He looks down at the pile of manure on the floor, then back at me.
“You, too?” I ask.
He nods.
“I’m going to the principal’s office. Do you want to come?”
He shakes his head, then turns and walks away without saying a word. I walk to Mr. Harris’s office, knock on his door, then enter without waiting for his reply. He is sitting behind his desk, wearing a tie that is tiled with the school mascot, no less than twenty tiny pirate heads scattered across the front of it. He smiles proudly at me.
“It’s a big day, John,” he says. I don’t know what he is talking about. “The reporters from the Gazette should be here within the hour. Front page!”
Then I remember, Mark James’s big interview with the local paper.
“You must be very proud,” I say.
“I’m proud of each and every one of Paradise’s students. ” The smile doesn’t leave his face. He leans back in his chair, locks his fingers together, and rests his hands on his stomach. “What can I do for you?”
“I just wanted to let you know that my locker was filled with manure this morning. ”
“What do you mean ‘filled’?”
“I mean the whole thing was full of manure. ”
“With manure?” he asks confusedly.
“Yes. ”
He laughs. I’m taken aback by his total lack of regard, and anger surges through me. My face is warm.
“I wanted to let you know so it could be cleaned. Sam Goode’s locker is filled with it, too. ”
He sighs and shakes his head. “I’ll send Mr. Hobbs, the janitor, down immediately and we’ll make a full investigation. ”
