Fear is a funny thing. Sometimes it can consume you totally, or it can just taper off after time. And slowly, my fear began to taper off.
For the first time in my life, I seriously considered cutting class. But Holmes insisted, and I walked into Literature with shaking knees. But nothing happened. Nothing happened the day after, either. Or the day after. Or the day after. And I continued to get good grades... it was strange.
Once our parents had sufficiently lectured and grounded us, Holmes and I had a good time. He came to dinner at my house, where he charmed my parents, and I went to dinner at his house, where his parents charmed me. And Holmes' little sister Colleen was so cute - she's about six years old. After dinner we were all sitting in the palor talking, and Colleen came and sat in my lap and demanded I french braid her hair. Laughing, I obeyed and now she adores me.
Holmes even had a birthday - he turned fifteen on November 20th.
"Happy Birthday," I told Holmes at the bus stop and handed him a box. He grinned, thanked me and opened it.
He pulled out the walkie talkie with a quizzical look on his face. I whipped the other one from behind my back. "Come in, Holmes" I said.
"I... like it!" he said, nodding with a smile.
"They're good up to a mile," I said. "These are the same ones the military uses."
Holmes' mouth fell open. "They must have cost a fortune!"
I shrugged. "Not really. My dad works for the company that makes them."
Holmes laughed and we put the walkie talkies into our backpacks.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"shshshsptscackleWatson?"
I put my book down and reached across my bed to the night stand. "What?!" I said into my walkie.
"Do you know what tomorrow is? Over."
"No." I yawned.
"The 30th. Over."
I sat bolt upright. "Oh, my gosh," I said. "I'd forgotten."
Holmes sounded ashamed. "Can you believe it? So had I. Over."
"What are we going to do?"
"What can we do? Over."
"We've got to rescue her, who ever she is. No one else would believe us."
Holmes sounded frightened. "That would be almost impossible. And wouldn't Mr. D be expecting us? Over."
"Do you have a better idea?" I asked snappishly.
"Wouldn't it be better if we just stopped him from kidnapping her? Over."
"Can you stop it with the OVERS?" I practically yelled.
"Sorry. Ov--humg."
"Thank you. Listen, we have Literature last thing so why don't you just meet me after school and we'll keep tabs on him, okay?"
Holmes paused. "Okay. Wait for me at your door in the morning."
"For goodness sakes, why?" I said.
Silence.
"Hello?" I asked. "Why on earth would I wait for you?"
"I don't want you to get hurt," Holmes said softly.
I felt a rush of anger. "On my street? In broad daylight? And I can take care of myself, thanks. Over and out!" I slammed the walkie talkie down. Holmes never replied.
"Who does he think he is?" I asked the girl in the mirror. ... Maybe he just cares about you, she said softly. "Yeah, right," I picked my book up again.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Now," Holmes whispered in my ear, "We can't let him know that anything is wrong. Act natural."
"I know, I know, I know!" I said, just a little too loud. We stood looking at the door to Literature. "You open it," I said. Holmes reached out a trembling hand and we entered the room.
All you kids out there who dread taking a test, or handing in a paper, or whatever, you've got it easy. Think about trying to go to class when you're fairly sure your teacher is a murderer. THAT takes GUTS.
Trying to keep my knees from shaking I found my seat.
"Good afternoon, class," Mr. Donnelley said, smiling. Was it just me, or was he staring at me? I gulped. "Please take out last night's homework."
Oops. I didn't do my homework. But you know what? Sue me - the teacher's a murderer for crying out loud!!
Mr. Donnelley went around with his gradebook, marking off names. He stopped at my desk. "Miss Watson?"
"I -I don't have it," I said, without looking at his face.
"That's okay," he patted my shoulder and I looked up. There was nothing but a mild sympathy on his face. "It happens to the best of us." He smiled gently and moved on.
I looked at Holmes across the room. He seemed slightly puzzled too. I looked on with the kid who sat next to me as we corrected the homework, and then read the next chapter.
Towards the end of class the loudspeaker cackled to attention. "Mr. Donnelley?" the nasaly secretary asked.
"Yes?"
"Please send Sherlock Holmes to the dean's office." The loudspeaker died.
Mr. Donnelley turned to Holmes "Got in trouble again?" Holmes blanched. "I'm just kidding," Mr. Donnelley said, smiling. "I'm sure it's nothing."
Holmes bit his lip and looked at me as he gathered his books. He hesitated. "Go on!" I mouthed, making little "shoo" motions. "I'll be fine!" Holmes looked unsure, but he left.
About a minute later, the bell rang. I got up to leave but found Mr. Donnelley standing in my way.
"Miss Watson," he said gently. "I know you've been through a lot lately. I just want you to know you're always safe here at school. Are we friends, then?" he smiled and stuck out his hand.
Over his shoulder I could see the bright hallway and freedom. I muttered something and put my hand in his, quickly. Get this over with and get out!!!!! my brain was screaming.
Something sharp and hot bit into my hand. I gasped and pulled back. There was a blister, puffy and white on the palm of my hand. Slowly, it shrunk away to a pin prick of blood.
I looked up. Mr. Donnelley had shut the door. Now he smiled - an evil, cold smile, and laid a tiny syringe on his desk.
Fear started pounding every inch of me. I tried to scream but all that came out was a hoarse gasping.
"A slow acting venom," Mr. Donnelley said, menacingly. "You should start feeling numb any minute now."
Now I did scream. I threw myself at the door and yanked at it. Locked! "Holmes!" I screamed, as loud as I could.
Mr. Donnelley wrapped one arm around my waist and put his other hand across my mouth. He pulled me away from the door.
I gasped for breath and clawed desperately at his hands. My fingers were all tingly and I couldn't get a grip. I kicked back at his shins as hard as I could and tried to bite. Mr. Donnelley winced but held firm. Air... there wasn't enough air... I felt my arms go limp at my sides and my knees began to buckle. Still, I struggled against the iron grip.
"Relax," Mr. Donnelley murmured in my ear, his voice soft and rumbling. I couldn't breathe, I felt myself falling... "Relax, and go to sleep," he said. "You'll make a lovely princess."
For the first time in my life, I seriously considered cutting class. But Holmes insisted, and I walked into Literature with shaking knees. But nothing happened. Nothing happened the day after, either. Or the day after. Or the day after. And I continued to get good grades... it was strange.
Once our parents had sufficiently lectured and grounded us, Holmes and I had a good time. He came to dinner at my house, where he charmed my parents, and I went to dinner at his house, where his parents charmed me. And Holmes' little sister Colleen was so cute - she's about six years old. After dinner we were all sitting in the palor talking, and Colleen came and sat in my lap and demanded I french braid her hair. Laughing, I obeyed and now she adores me.
Holmes even had a birthday - he turned fifteen on November 20th.
"Happy Birthday," I told Holmes at the bus stop and handed him a box. He grinned, thanked me and opened it.
He pulled out the walkie talkie with a quizzical look on his face. I whipped the other one from behind my back. "Come in, Holmes" I said.
"I... like it!" he said, nodding with a smile.
"They're good up to a mile," I said. "These are the same ones the military uses."
Holmes' mouth fell open. "They must have cost a fortune!"
I shrugged. "Not really. My dad works for the company that makes them."
Holmes laughed and we put the walkie talkies into our backpacks.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"shshshsptscackleWatson?"
I put my book down and reached across my bed to the night stand. "What?!" I said into my walkie.
"Do you know what tomorrow is? Over."
"No." I yawned.
"The 30th. Over."
I sat bolt upright. "Oh, my gosh," I said. "I'd forgotten."
Holmes sounded ashamed. "Can you believe it? So had I. Over."
"What are we going to do?"
"What can we do? Over."
"We've got to rescue her, who ever she is. No one else would believe us."
Holmes sounded frightened. "That would be almost impossible. And wouldn't Mr. D be expecting us? Over."
"Do you have a better idea?" I asked snappishly.
"Wouldn't it be better if we just stopped him from kidnapping her? Over."
"Can you stop it with the OVERS?" I practically yelled.
"Sorry. Ov--humg."
"Thank you. Listen, we have Literature last thing so why don't you just meet me after school and we'll keep tabs on him, okay?"
Holmes paused. "Okay. Wait for me at your door in the morning."
"For goodness sakes, why?" I said.
Silence.
"Hello?" I asked. "Why on earth would I wait for you?"
"I don't want you to get hurt," Holmes said softly.
I felt a rush of anger. "On my street? In broad daylight? And I can take care of myself, thanks. Over and out!" I slammed the walkie talkie down. Holmes never replied.
"Who does he think he is?" I asked the girl in the mirror. ... Maybe he just cares about you, she said softly. "Yeah, right," I picked my book up again.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Now," Holmes whispered in my ear, "We can't let him know that anything is wrong. Act natural."
"I know, I know, I know!" I said, just a little too loud. We stood looking at the door to Literature. "You open it," I said. Holmes reached out a trembling hand and we entered the room.
All you kids out there who dread taking a test, or handing in a paper, or whatever, you've got it easy. Think about trying to go to class when you're fairly sure your teacher is a murderer. THAT takes GUTS.
Trying to keep my knees from shaking I found my seat.
"Good afternoon, class," Mr. Donnelley said, smiling. Was it just me, or was he staring at me? I gulped. "Please take out last night's homework."
Oops. I didn't do my homework. But you know what? Sue me - the teacher's a murderer for crying out loud!!
Mr. Donnelley went around with his gradebook, marking off names. He stopped at my desk. "Miss Watson?"
"I -I don't have it," I said, without looking at his face.
"That's okay," he patted my shoulder and I looked up. There was nothing but a mild sympathy on his face. "It happens to the best of us." He smiled gently and moved on.
I looked at Holmes across the room. He seemed slightly puzzled too. I looked on with the kid who sat next to me as we corrected the homework, and then read the next chapter.
Towards the end of class the loudspeaker cackled to attention. "Mr. Donnelley?" the nasaly secretary asked.
"Yes?"
"Please send Sherlock Holmes to the dean's office." The loudspeaker died.
Mr. Donnelley turned to Holmes "Got in trouble again?" Holmes blanched. "I'm just kidding," Mr. Donnelley said, smiling. "I'm sure it's nothing."
Holmes bit his lip and looked at me as he gathered his books. He hesitated. "Go on!" I mouthed, making little "shoo" motions. "I'll be fine!" Holmes looked unsure, but he left.
About a minute later, the bell rang. I got up to leave but found Mr. Donnelley standing in my way.
"Miss Watson," he said gently. "I know you've been through a lot lately. I just want you to know you're always safe here at school. Are we friends, then?" he smiled and stuck out his hand.
Over his shoulder I could see the bright hallway and freedom. I muttered something and put my hand in his, quickly. Get this over with and get out!!!!! my brain was screaming.
Something sharp and hot bit into my hand. I gasped and pulled back. There was a blister, puffy and white on the palm of my hand. Slowly, it shrunk away to a pin prick of blood.
I looked up. Mr. Donnelley had shut the door. Now he smiled - an evil, cold smile, and laid a tiny syringe on his desk.
Fear started pounding every inch of me. I tried to scream but all that came out was a hoarse gasping.
"A slow acting venom," Mr. Donnelley said, menacingly. "You should start feeling numb any minute now."
Now I did scream. I threw myself at the door and yanked at it. Locked! "Holmes!" I screamed, as loud as I could.
Mr. Donnelley wrapped one arm around my waist and put his other hand across my mouth. He pulled me away from the door.
I gasped for breath and clawed desperately at his hands. My fingers were all tingly and I couldn't get a grip. I kicked back at his shins as hard as I could and tried to bite. Mr. Donnelley winced but held firm. Air... there wasn't enough air... I felt my arms go limp at my sides and my knees began to buckle. Still, I struggled against the iron grip.
"Relax," Mr. Donnelley murmured in my ear, his voice soft and rumbling. I couldn't breathe, I felt myself falling... "Relax, and go to sleep," he said. "You'll make a lovely princess."
