Chapter 7: Thanatopsis

"Don't take life too seriously. No one makes it out alive anyway."

Cookie was in the computer lab of James K. Polk Middle School. He was elbow deep in circuit boards trying to find the one short in a thousand connections. He had been asked to stay after school and fix a glitch in the lab's machines.

"What do you think happened?" asked Martin Qwerly. "Everything was working fine and then all the monitors in the lab started flickering. A few of them shorted out. Some of the PCs were making a grinding sound. I thought there was a power surge, but there aren't any thunderstorms in the area. So then I went to-"

"Someone was trying to run a cell phone operating system on the school server." Cookie interrupted. "Mr. Kwest probably thought he could use it to make the system faster. Real stupidity beats artificial intelligence every time." He slid the panel back onto the PC and all the lab computers came back to life.

"Awesome!" cried Martin. He ran back to his terminal. "My report is still here. Mr. Pal has us doing a fifteen page report on World War II. I didn't think I'd be able to type that much. Then, he said we could use pictures as long as the page was at least three quarters text. I found a great picture of the Storming of Normandy. I was trying to find a picture of Churchill, but he isn't really a combatant, so I don't know if..."

Martin rambled on, but Cookie wasn't focused on him. He was looking at the picture on Martin's monitor. It was a photo of the storming of Normandy. There was a group of nurses attending to some damaged soldiers. One of the nurses had her hair styled in what can only be described as an explosion. If the picture colored the hair red, it would be a dead ringer for Ms. Frizzle.

That was impossible, of course. This picture was seven decades old. Ms. Frizzle couldn't be more than... well, she couldn't be...could she?

"Jen, honey!" Mrs. Mosely called from the back room of the café. "Do you know where your father put the carafes?"

"The shelf next to the water heater!" Moze called back from the front window. Moze's mother owned a small eatery a few streets down from the Middle School. Moze had come in early that day to help her set up for a retirement party that her mother had booked. Together, they had set up the food table and put up the decorations. Her mother was getting the last of the supplies together for when they were ready to serve lunch. Moze was cleaning the front windows of the café. It hadn't been cleaned since the last flock of geese visited town and left their calling card. Still, Moze wasn't bothered by the work. They were going to be done sooner than expected and she could get to school early. Cookie had called her last night and told her that there was a picture from WWII she had to see to believe.

"Jen!" her mother called. "Can you help me get these down? Your father put them high up so they wouldn't fall into the wrong hands."

"Coming mom!" said Moze. She put the squeegee down and went inside the café. She left her backpack sitting outside. A girl with long dark hair came around the corner as soon as Moze went through the door. She dashed down to the storefront and scooped up the backpack. A car pulled up beside the store and the little thief jumped in.

"Hey!" cried Moze, bursting through the door. She had finished in the store room just in time to see the girl snatch up her nap-sack. She was too late. The car was speeding away.

"Aaargh!" Moze screamed angrily. She stalked back inside to tell her mother. This was a disaster. She had her cell phone, her wallet, her homework, Ned's survival guide, everything in that back pack. She would have to go to the police station and make a report. She would be late for school now. This was going to be a bad day.

Down the road from the café, where the getaway car hadn't reached yet, a bony figure in a dark cloak waited by the road side. It was unseen by mortal eyes and heard only by the part of the brain that is afraid of things that go 'bump' in the night.

I CAN GUARANTEE YOU, JENNIFER, it said, SOMEONE ELSE IS GOING TO HAVE AN EVEN WORSE DAY.

As Ned sat in Ms. Frizzle's Heuristics class, he wondered why Moze hadn't shown up this morning. She said she would give him back the guide this morning. She insisted on editing it on a regular basis after the Cheese Pants Fiasco. She would have called and told him if she was sick. Maybe she was skipping.

"Today," said Ms. Frizzle, "we're going to talk about Death." At the mention of this the whole class straightened up. "You are going to die. That is a statistical guarantee. Everyone you know is going to die, unless one of you knows Sean Connery. The minute you entered the world, the world began planning how to send you back. At some point, you are going to ask 'why?' The truth is: sometimes destruction is a good thing. Something old is gone and something new can take its place."

"However, loosing someone is always terrible. There is no easy way to get past it. You must-" the classroom phone went off. She walked over to the wall and answered it.

"Yes?" she asked. She listened for a while, then hung up.

"Ned Bigby." she said walking back to the front of the room. "You are wanted by Vice Principal Crubbs. Please, go to him immediately."

Ned gathered up his stuff and left the room, trying to remember what he had done this time. When he reached the Administration Office, he was surprised to find Crubbs waiting for him by the door. His expression was placid. He didn't even bother to dramatically pull off his sunglasses.

"You wanted to see me?" Ned asked, wondering what happened to knock the silly out of his usually boisterous Vice Principal.

"Yes, Ned." Crubbs said in an uncharacteristically gentle voice. "We're having trouble getting a hold of Jennifer Mosely's parents. Do you know where they are?"

Ned suddenly became aware of a uniformed cop standing in a far corner of the room, watching them. She was holding something behind her back.

"What's wrong?" Ned asked, feeling a weight of a million tiny tons settling in his chest.

"It might be nothing." said Crubbs. "Do you know where her parents are?"

"She's at her restaurant, setting up for a party. Moze told me last night that she was going to help her before school." Ned answered. "Her dad is in Kuala Lampur for the week."

Hearing this, the officer spoke into her radio. "We have confirmation on the driver." She shifted and Ned saw what she had behind her back. It was Moze's backpack, in an evidence bag, bloodied.

"What happened?" Ned cried, making a grab for the bag. Crubbs held him back by his shoulders in a grasp that was firm, but still gentle. At the same time he gave the officer a look that was the facial equivalent of flipping someone off. He turned Ned to face him and knelt down.

"Ned," Crubbs started. "There was a car accident a few blocks away from here. There were no survivors. The only ID we found was in that backpack..." he took a deep breath, "and the girl who had it matches Jennifer's description."

"Matches her description?" Ned repeated back.

"It was..." Crubbs tried to explain, "...impossible to recognize because...all they could tell is the build, height, and hair all match..."

Ned didn't wait to hear anymore. He broke free of Crubbs' grasp and raced outside and down the hall. He wasn't sure were he was going. He wasn't even paying attention. A debate raged inside him between the part of him saying, based on the evidence, something terrible had happened and a much louder part of him saying: This could not be happening!

He had stopped. He stood in front of the only wooden locker door in the school. It was truly a piece of art. There wasn't another one like it in the world, probably. Ned knew the same was true for the friend he'd just lost. He braced himself against the lockers and leaned his head against the treasured oak door. The shock had worn off and the sobs racked his body and the tears flowed freely.

Moze was dead! They had been friends for their entire lives. They had lived next door to each other since their embryonic stage. He couldn't possibly care about her any more even if she were biologically family. He couldn't even imagine life without seeing her everyday. The very idea was entirely foreign. It was downright terrifying. And now, it was reality. Except...

"Ned?" he heard a voice behind him. A part of him said it couldn't be. A louder part of him was rejoicing. It was the part of him that would know that voice anywhere.

"What's wrong?" Moze asked.

Ned turned around. There she was. Standing in the middle of the hallway, looking confused and very, very alive. He took one great stride toward her, took her face in his hands and kissed her. Moze, despite being utterly shocked, was not about to stop him. Ned's lips lingered on hers, tears still running down his face, but he cherished every one of these tears. In any other situation he would wonder what it said about his feelings for her that he greeted her return from the dead like this, but relief came in a flood and swept every other worldly care away. If Crubbs hadn't interrupted just then he probably would have stayed in that position until he passed out from hunger.

"Jennifer Mosely!" Crubbs cried as he came around the corner and saw them. Ned didn't move at all, but Moze pulled away.

"Uh, I'm sorry I'm late." she said to Crubbs. Ned was still staring into her face. "I was at the Police Station."

"Oh..." Crubbs remarked. He really didn't know what to make of all this. Then he remembered that no one else enrolled at James K. Polk was absent that day and the one that was dead wasn't. The accident, while tragic, was not his problem anymore.

"I'll let it slide Jennifer." he said, and stared walking back to his office. "Oh," he turned back to her. "You're backpack is in my office."

"You caught the girl who stole it, already?" Moze asked, surprised. Ned still hadn't let go.

"Sort of." said Crubbs.

At the back of the school, A large crate was being lowered down from a truck bed.

"Okay, sir." the driver said to Gordy. "Just sign here."and handed Gordy a clip board.

Gordy signed with a flourish and waved the driver goodbye. He stood back to look at the crate. It was big enough to accommodate three men. Inside, you could hear a faint rumbling purr.

Gordy smiled excitedly, for this was the day that the weasel was going to meet his doom.

"In the first century, during the Roman occupation of present day England, the Britons were united under the leadership of Boadicea..." Mr. Pal droned.

Cookie couldn't really focus on the history of the United Kingdom right now. He could barely make sense of this morning. One minute, word was going out that Moze was dead. The next minute, that she was dating Ned. The minute after, Moze was actually alive. It said a lot about the minds of the students that the rumors had been spread in that order.

Moze was shocked at what happened. She felt deeply conflicted as to whether she even wanted her stuff back. The police had returned her wallet, cell-phone, and a mercifully blood-free survival guide. Her teachers had graciously given her a pass on the homework that was due that day. She had been issued new textbooks, and Backpack Boy had given her one of his extra backpacks as a Welcome-Back-From-The-Dead gift.

Ned was the only problem that lingered. He kept staring at her. Not just stared, it was a look that was so tender Cookie felt like he had walked in on them kissing. Moze didn't seem to mind, but his unashamed gaze and her uncontrollable blushing caused the rest of the students gawk and gossip. By third period, Ms. Frizzle made Ned put on a pair of aviators to dampen the effect.

"And here," said Mr. Pal projecting a picture on the overhead screen, "is a full color picture of one of the tapestries depicting the Razing of London. You will recall the European people would use needle work to make images depicting important points in their history. You can see the Roman centurions..."

But Cookie had lost focus again. One of the British soldiers on the tapestry was a woman who had been rendered with an explosion of red hair. It couldn't have been Ms. Frizzle though. This tapestry was nearly two thousand years old. It couldn't be. Never. Not possible.

Then again...

Moze worked diligently on the box she was making for wood shop. They had made a simple jewelry box. Now, they could carve any design of their choice onto the exterior. She was determined to throw herself into the project and completely ignore any other thoughts on her mind. She was failing horribly.

The inconvenience of being dead had passed, now she had to deal with being alive. As anyone can tell you, living is the hard part.

Ned was acting really weird. She was glad he'd missed her, but the way he greeted her made her seriously question what there relationship even was now. She was pretty sure he wouldn't have kissed Cookie like that if he'd returned from the dead. She was pretty sure he hadn't even kissed Suzie like that. When he kissed her like that, the world lit up like ten million fire flies. The look he kept giving her was another thing. She had known him his entire life and never seen that expression before. Ms. Frizzle said it was Adoration. It didn't make her feel butterflies like Faymen's stare did. It made her feel...pretty, and under that, something...warm and happy. She swore she must have hit her head in that car accident she wasn't in.

"Hello Jennifer." Mr. Chopsaw greeted. "Congratulations on staying alive!"

"Thank you, sir." said Moze. He may be indelicate, but he was reliably straightforward.

"Nice heart pattern," he said. "Didn't think you'd go for something so girlish though." and he walked away.

"Huh?" Moze wondered, and then she looked down at her jewelry box. In the midst of her rumination her hands had been working independently from her head. The two traitorous appendages had been carving dozens of delicate hearts on the box.

This was a bad day.

Ned couldn't remember having a better day. He was in Home Ec, making curry balls, and ruminating on what a great day it was.

The sun was shining warmly. Moze was alive. They hadn't been assigned any homework in English. Moze was alive. He had finished his history project early. Moze was alive. And most importantly, Moze was alive. Great day all around. It wouldn't surprise him if today marked the start of a stable and lasting peace in the Middle East.

He finished rolling the last of the curry balls. It was ashame Moze wouldn't be able to try any, the recipe they were using called for liberal use of saffron. Moze was allergic to saffron, you see.

Ms. Frizzle was walking down a second story hallway when she heard Gordy giggling from one of the empty classrooms. She hadn't worked here long before learning that Gordy giggling was a bad sign. She gave the door a knock.

"Who is it?" Gordy called.

"It's Valerie Frizzle." she answered.

"Oh, come in, quick." Gordy said.

She walked into the room to find a pile of food pellets on the floor. Across the room was a huge crate. Gordy was seated on top of it with a crow bar in hand.

"I give up." she said. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to catch the weasel." he said with malice.

"You're going to throw a crate at it?" she asked.

"No, I special ordered a bob cat, the natural enemy of the weasel in the wild. When the weasel comes for the food, I open the crate, and guess who's coming to dinner." Gordy bragged.

"Isn't that crate a little big for a bob cat?" Ms. Frizzle asked, wondering how a bob cat in the school could possibly be better than a weasel.

"It's just so he has room to move around." answered Gordy. You could definitely hear something moving around in there.

"And after it eats the weasel," Ms. Frizzle continued, "how do you propose we catch a bob cat?"

"Uh..." Gordy thought. And kept on thinking.

Moze hastily shoved books into her locker. The faster she got to her next class was the less people stared. Honestly, nothing had actually happened to her. She hadn't been killed. She hadn't even caught a cold recently. There was no reason for everyone to be acting differently.

"Hi Jennifer." said Lisa Zemo, walking up to her holding a plate of little, brown balls.

"Hi Lisa." said Moze.

"I'm glad you're okay." Lisa said awkwardly.

"Thanks, Lisa." said Moze, gratefully. Amidst all the whispering and looks, it was a comforting reminder that there were some people who actually cared she was safe.

"Hey, do you want a curry ball?" Lisa asked. "We just made them in Home Ec."

"Sure." said Moze, reaching for one. Free food made everything better.

Before she could take one, a blur shot out of nowhere and tackled Lisa to the floor. Moze looked down flabbergasted. Ned was keeping Lisa pinned to the floor with one hand while the other hand was holding the plate of curry balls. He had somehow managed to keep them from spilling.

Down the hall, an unseen figure in a dark robe retreated.

HE MIGHT BE CLUELESS, it said, BUT NED BIGBY'S GOT STYLE.

Gordy patiently watched the weasel bait from his seat atop the bob cat crate. For the hundredth time, he assured himself that it would be along any minute now.

"Any luck?" Ms. Frizzle asked as she walked in.

"Any minute now." Gordy said.

"Maybe the weasel got dive tackled by Ned." Ms. Frizzle joked.

"Eh?" Gordy asked.

"Word in the halls is Ned saved Moze from a lethal dose of saffron." said Ms. Frizzle.

"By dive tackling her?" Gordy asked.

"No, what happened was - Weasel!" Ms. Frizzle yelled, pointing to the bait. The weasel was munching away at the pellets.

Gordy jammed the crow bar into the seal of the crate. Ms. Frizzle had just enough time to jump next to Gordy on the crate before the side fell open. After a moment, a big cat lumbered out. In point of fact, it was bigger than Gordy had expected.

"I'm no Zoologist," said Ms. Frizzle, "but I'm pretty sure bob cats aren't orange with black stripes."

She was right, of course. That trait is exclusive to tigers. The tiger in question looked around the room, stopping to linger on the two meat bags on it's old crate.

Ms. Frizzle slowly removed her high heels.

"What are you doing?" Gordy whispered, keeping his eyes on the tiger.

"I'm getting ready to run." Ms. Frizzle whispered back.

"Can you outrun a tiger?" Gordy asked.

"I don't have to outrun the tiger." said Ms. Frizzle. "I just have to outrun you."

The tiger, however, had lost interest, and decided to see what was outside. It lumbered gracefully out the door without giving the weasel a second glance.

Moze was trying to focus on polynomials, but with Ned sitting next to her she found it hard to give a toss how much x equaled. He still had the aviators on, but every few seconds she could feel his gaze flit over to her. It was a sensation not at all conducive to focusing on algebra.

She really had no clue where things would go after today. At some point they would have to talk about that kiss. At some point she would have to thank him for saving her from death by curry. At some point, he would come back down to Earth and the implications of everything that had happened today would come crashing down and they would spend the rest of their lives being awkward around each other, he'd move to Bangalore to avoid her, and the moon would crash into the Pacific ocean killing everything. Okay, that last one might be a little of a panicked exaggeration, but this was still very serious!

Honestly, the only thing that could make this day worse was...

Her thoughts were interrupted by a something sniffing at her elbow. She turned towards the distraction to tell it to bugger off, and found herself staring into the eye of the tiger.

Ms. Frizzle was watching a steak sizzle in the schools kitchen microwave. While waiting for it to fully defrost, she was listening to Gordy freak out.

"I don't understand why I got a tiger! The catalog specifically said I would be sent a bob cat that could not eat anybody!" he ranted.

"It was probably a clerical error." said Ms. Frizzle. "Whatever company is sending unqualified people wild animals probably is remiss about paper work."

"I mean, really!" Gordy ranted on. "How do you mail a tiger by accident? How can you not take that job seriously?"

"The saving grace is," said Ms. Frizzle, "that it got out between classes when everyone was safely sealed in their classrooms. We got word to Crubbs in time. All the teachers got the order to lock their doors. I called my Aunt Badall, certified cat herder, to help us get it out of the school. It's not as bad as it could have been."

From down the hallway they heard panicked screaming and people running for their lives.

"Okay," amended Ms. Frizzle, grabbing the steak out of the microwave with a meat hook, "now it's as bad as it could be."

This was the worst day ever. After the disbelief of seeing a tiger in their classroom had worn off, everything had degraded into chaos. The students were jumping over each other to get out of the door. Through all the stampeding and girlish screaming, the tiger had never taken it's eyes off Moze. There was no way she could get away in the confusion, because the tiger wasn't confused. It knew exactly what it wanted: her.

She was backing up against the wall, with the tiger padding one paw forward for every slow step she took back. There was one good chance. If she could open one of the windows behind her she could jump out and fall to the pavement below. As a personal preference, falling onto a concrete slab beat being eaten by a tiger.

She reached back to the catch on the window, still facing the tiger. She undid the lock and threw herself against the window to open it. To her horror, but no surprise, the window remained resolutely shut.

She had nowhere to run, and the tiger kept padding forward. She closed here eyes and squeezed herself against the wall. She knew, this was, as they say, It.

Then she felt something she didn't expect. She could feel someone standing in front of her and hands grab her arms. Her eyes snapped open and she was confronted by a mop of brown hair. Ned was body blocking the tiger and holding her firmly behind him.

"Ned?" she yelled, outraged. This white knight business had gone too far. She struggled against his grip, but it was no good. Since when was he this strong?

"I have a plan." Ned said calmly, staring the tiger down. Moze stopped fighting.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Run for it." he told her.

"That's not a plan." she said through clenched teeth. "We can't outrun a tiger."

"You don't have to outrun the tiger." he corrected. "You just have to outrun me." Then the tiger closed the gap between it and them. They both clenched their eyes shut.

I THINK I JUST HAD ANOTHER NEAR MOZE EXPERIENCE.

Ned felt a firm pressure against his stomach. As it continued in a gentle rubbing motion, he opened his eyes to look down.

Well, this tiger wasn't with the program at all. By all rights, it should be eviscerating him, but it was nuzzling his tummy.

"Um..." he tentatively put a hand on it's massive, skull-crushing head, and gave it a rub. "Good kitty?"

The tiger raised it's head and nuzzled Ned's face.

"Well, this is wrapping up nicely." said Ms. Frizzle from the doorway, a steak dangling from her hand.

The tiger turned to look at her. She held the steak up in front of her, and gave it a tempting wiggle. The tiger bounded up to it and Ms. Frizzle threw it to the other side of the room. The tiger cornered sharply and snatched it up. As it was tucking in, Ned and Moze sprinted to the door. They passed Ms. Frizzle, she slammed the door shut, and locked it.

The entire student body was gathered in the gym. They were informed that there was a security breach and that they were to remain there until the threat was removed from the premises. In order to reduce panic and give them something else to focus on them. Mrs. Pascal, of the Art department, was giving an impromptu lecture on Ancient Egyptian frescoes. Cookie was vaguely paying attention to the use of shading in the Old Kingdom and sneaking glances toward the front row. Ned and Moze were sitting down there in between Mr. Chopsaw and Mr. Sweeney.

Cookie was bursting with curiosity as to what was really going on, and he was sure those two had details. He had been in English class when the call went out over the intercom: Everyone was to report to the gym. Once they had gotten in, the doors had been locked up tight. There were strange rumors going around that there was a wild animal in the building. Depending on who you asked it was either a lion, a tiger, or a bear.

Ned and Moze, along with some others, had already been in here when the other classes started coming in. The two were being watched by Chopsaw and Sweeney, like they were expected to pass out dead away at any moment. Really, Moze just looked cranky. Ned seemed blissfully content to be there.

Next to him, Lance Widget nudged him with a book. Cookie took it from him. It was an album of the frescoes Mrs. Pascal was talking about. She was handing it around as a visual aid. He flipped it open to a random page and was greeted by a picture of an ancient Egyptian painting of a red head with wild hair.

Ms. Frizzle watched the truck drive away from the school. The tiger was someone else's problem now.

"Aunt Badall was thrilled." Ms. Frizzle said to the black cloaked figure standing next to her. "She said a Tiger that well trained is hard to come by."

INDEED THAT IS SO, said the figure. THE PAPERWORK THAT THIS CATASTROPHE IS GOING TO GENERATE DOESN'T EVEN BARE THINKING ABOUT.

"There will be an investigation, naturally." Ms. Frizzle said. "The ax is going to fall on the company that accidentally mailed a tiger to a school. If that mistake is anything to go by I don't think they even have the proper records to implicate Gordy."

THE MOP HAIRED CHILD ROSE TO THE OCCASION SPLENDIDLY. The figure commented. HE HAS GREAT INNER STRENGTH.

"Oh, yes." said Ms. Frizzle proudly. "I see great adventures in his future."

AND THE GIRL WITH THE BIG BROWN EYES. The figure added.

"Yes, she is in his future, too." Ms. Frizzle said. "The two are inextricably linked."

BODY BLOCKING A TIGER GOES A LONG WAY TO CEMENTING A FRIENDSHIP FOREVER. The figure observed.

"I somehow don't think they'll simply be 'friends' for much longer." said Ms. Frizzle turning to go back inside the school.

YOU KNOW, the figure said after her, THE YOUNG MAN WHO IS PART CYBORG BELIEVES THAT YOU ARE 5000 YEARS OLD.

Ms. Frizzle chuckled to herself.

"That's just silly." she said. "I don't even turn 173 until next month."

Ned and Moze were in Ned's kitchen that evening.

"Here you go." Ned said. "Saffron free curry balls!" he put the plate in front of Moze. She tried one. It was sweet and spicy bliss.

"You know," Ned wondered. "I don't know if I'll ever look at food the same after nearly being eaten."

Moze stayed quiet and stared determinedly at her plate.

Ned was afraid of this. She had clearly been traumatized.

"You know if you need to talk to someone -" he started.

"I need to talk to you." she said suddenly, looking up at him. "How can you go on like nothing happened?"

"I just doesn't bother me." he said. "I don't think I'll ever be attacked by another tiger, so I'm not -"

"I mean the kiss." she interrupted, clearly annoyed.

"That's what's bothering you?" he asked. It couldn't have been that bad. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"So you regret it?" Moze asked.

"I was glad you were there." Ned tried to explain. "I thought you were gone. I was so happy. It just felt like the right thing to do. It doesn't have to mean anything else. I know you like Faymen. He's your boyfriend. We're best friends. We shouldn't ruin -"

Moze cut him off. More specifically, his mouth stopped moving when she started kissing him. They didn't talk anymore after that.