Deeper Than the Dead

He looked at Wendy sitting next to him and made an impatient face, rolling his eyes. She just looked at him.

“Are you all right?” Tommy asked.

“No!” she said, her voice lowered so as not to attract the attention of the secretaries. “I’m mad! Dennis tried to stick the finger of a dead person in my mouth! He touched my face with the finger of a dead person! I’m still totally grossed out!”

“Oh.” He knew better than to say too much when a girl was really mad.

Wendy’s expression softened. “Are you all right? You look like you hurt all over.”

“Yeah, but I’m pretending I don’t or my mom will make me stay home. I don’t want to stay home with her. She’s crazy mad.”

A door opened back in the depths of the office. Tommy snapped his head around, wincing at the pain. His mother came storming out of the hall, her face as red as the suit she wore, her eyes bugging out of her head.

Tommy cringed, waiting for her to grab his arm and haul him off. Why hadn’t he had sense enough to hide in the lavatory?

But she went right past him, her high heels clicking against the floor. She didn’t even look at him.

Open-mouthed, Tommy watched her go. He and Wendy exchanged a look.

“You lucked out,” she said.

He had, but they hadn’t, he thought as Detective Mendez came out of the hall and crooked a finger at them. He got up gingerly, trying not to suck in too big a breath.

“Hey, Tommy,” the detective said as they followed him down the hall. “I hear you can take a punch if you have to.”

What was he supposed to say to that? “I guess so.”

They went into the conference room. Principal Garnett was standing by the door, red-faced and breathing too hard.

“I’m going to leave this to you, Detective,” he said. “I have to call our attorneys.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Wendy whispered.

Wendy’s mom came over to her. She looked upset too.

“Have the office call me if you decide you want to come home,” she said.

Wendy nodded. Her mother kissed her cheek and started to leave the room.

“Mrs. Morgan?” Detective Mendez said. “Can I have a word with you in private before you go? We’ll be finished here in a few minutes, if you don’t mind waiting.”

Wendy’s mom looked unhappy, but she said, “I guess so. I’ll be out here.”

Miss Navarre came over then, turning as white as a sheet as she looked at Tommy.

“Tommy! Oh my God,” she said. “Should you be here?”

“I’m okay,” he said. “I went to the doctor.”

“You don’t look okay. You look like you should be home in bed.”

“Tommy’s tough,” Detective Mendez said. “He did what he had to do, and he took it like a man.”

Miss Navarre looked at him with narrowed eyes and said half under her breath, “Men are stupid.”

They all sat down at the table.

“Detective Mendez has a few questions for you both about what happened yesterday,” Miss Navarre said.

“Yeah,” Detective Mendez said. “Did you guys know Dennis had that finger?”

“No!” they said in unison.

“Wendy, you told me before that you saw Dennis touch the body in the park. Did you see him take that finger?”

“Gross!” Wendy exclaimed. “No! I would have told you that for sure!”

“How about you, Tommy?”

Tommy shook his aching head so hard he saw stars.

“Dennis didn’t say anything about it? Not at the park, not since?”

“We try not to talk to Dennis,” Wendy said primly.

“Because he’s a bully?”

“Because he’s gross AND a bully,” Wendy said. “He always smells bad, and he uses bad language, and he’s always carrying around something disgusting like a smashed frog or some part of a dead animal he found in the road. He’s weird and sick and gross,” she declared. “And stupid.”

She shot a quick, nervous look at Miss Navarre, like maybe she would get in trouble for that last part.

“You would say the same thing, Tommy?”

“Not out loud,” Tommy admitted. “Or I’ll end up like this again.”

“Neither of you saw him take the finger,” Detective Mendez said, but more to himself than to them. He sighed. “Does Dennis talk much about his father?”

“Yeah,” Wendy said. “Like, My dad’s a deputy and he can arrest you. My dad’s a deputy so he can drive as fast as he wants.” She rolled her eyes. “Gag me.”

“Has Dennis ever said anything about his father punishing him?” Miss Navarre asked.

They both shook their heads.

Detective Mendez looked at his watch.

“All right. Thanks, kids, Miss Navarre,” he said, getting up from the table. “I have to go.”

Miss Navarre said nothing, but watched him go out the door. Then she turned back to them.

“You guys have had some week,” she said. “Good thing it’s Friday. I just want to say how proud I am of both of you. You’ve gone through things this week that most adults would have a hard time handling, but you’ve handled it all really well. You’ve been very brave.

“Still, if there’s anything you’d like to talk to me about, I’m here for you.”

“Can the cops put Dennis in jail?” Wendy asked.

“Dennis is not going to jail,” Miss Navarre said. “Dennis is a very troubled boy. Hopefully, he’ll get some good counseling.”

“He’s not coming back to school?” Tommy asked.

“No. He’s been expelled for the rest of the semester.”

“Oh, great,” Tommy muttered.

“You didn’t want him to be expelled?” Miss Navarre asked, looking confused.

“He’ll blame Tommy,” Wendy said.

“He’ll blame Tommy because he got expelled for beating up Tommy?”

“He hates Tommy,” Wendy went on. “He thinks Tommy has everything. Tommy’s smart. Tommy lives in a big house. Tommy plays the piano. Tommy has cool parents. They have cool cars. Blah, blah, blah.”

“He’s jealous,” Miss Navarre said. “And everybody came to Tommy’s rescue while Dennis got suspended.”

“Right.”

“Tommy, how do you feel about that?”

Tommy shrugged. People did stick up for him. Nobody stuck up for Dennis. Teachers always liked him; they never liked Dennis. Tommy’s dad was cool. And maybe Dennis’s dad hit him. Maybe Dennis had a right to be jealous, but that didn’t give him the right to beat people up.

“Dennis doesn’t know anything,” he said.

Miss Navarre left it at that. She looked to Wendy. “That was pretty creepy yesterday with the finger. Did you have trouble sleeping last night?”

“A little,” Wendy admitted.

“How about you, Tommy? Are you sleeping at night?”

Adults were obsessed with sleeping, he had decided. Like, if everybody slept more the world would be a better place or something. His mother was crazy about him getting enough sleep. She gave him allergy medicine to make him sleep. Sometimes he swallowed it, sometimes he didn’t.

“I’m fine,” he said.

He wanted to get out of this chair, out of this room, and go be a normal kid. He didn’t want all this attention