SCENE 31
Greg nearly wet his pants when he realized someone was behind the door.
It opened to reveal a large walk-in closet, like a pantry. The place was lined with shelves, mostly empty, except for the three candles burning on the lowest shelf near the floor. On the floor was a mattress partially covered with an old bedspread. A sofa cushion was at the head like a pillow.
And lying on the mattress were a girl and Ned Wood. Both of them were naked from the waist up. Greg saw the girl’s conical breasts, glimpsed clothes tossed randomly on the mattress, before Wood jumped up and pushed him and Richard back out the door and shut it on the girl behind him.
“What the hell is this?” said Wood. “Junior narc squad?” His blubbery torso was splotched red and white as though he had a rash, and his blondish hair swung across his forehead.
“We didn’t know,” said Richard. His face was bright red. Greg was glad that he himself couldn’t blush.
“What are you doing here?” said Wood. He pushed Richard and glared at Greg.
“We were looking for a tunnel,” said Greg.
“Holy crap,” said Wood. “The Hardy Boys back at the ranch.”
“We won’t tell,” said Richard.
“We won’t tell anybody,” said Greg.
“The hell you won’t. lt’ll be all over the school tomorrow.”
“Not from me,” said Richard.
“I don’t talk,” said Greg.
“What the hell have you got in that bag?” said Wood. “Beer?”
Greg felt like an eight-year-old.
“Nothing,” Richard said.
“What’s in the damn bag?” said Wood.
“A dead squirrel,” said Richard.
Wood started to deliver a complicated set of instructions involving the squirrel, a hot tire iron, and several of Richard Blackburn’s bodily orifices.
Then all of them heard the faint sound of a siren outside.
SCENE 32
She was struggling silently, pushing him off, and he was struggling just as silently. He was stronger than she, but she was no weakling, and she was more desperate.
“Stop,” she said. “Stop it now.”
Thomas could not answer and he could not stop. The delight of their first kiss had broken majestically over his body like a perfect wave on an empty beach. But this force was different, an exquisitely dangerous undertow. He would stop in a minute, in just another moment he would regain his footing, but not now not now not quite yet just another moment, another gasp, another thrill.
“You can stop,” she said, and she raised her knee hard into his groin. He shuddered with the pain, and she pushed him off with her arms and her leg and sat up in the choir pew. Then she did something he hadn’t expected. She started to cry.
“You hurt me,” said Hesta. “Why?”
Thomas was angry with pain and shame. “How was I supposed to know?”
“How were you supposed to know what?” said Hesta. “That this was wrong? Because I told you, that’s how. Because I said no. Because I pushed you away.” She sobbed. Her voice was louder.
“I didn’t think you really meant it,” said Thomas.
In the distance they could hear a siren approaching. Neither paid attention to it.
“Say that again, please,” said Hesta.
“I thought you wanted me to. I’m sorry,” said Thomas.
“Wanted you to?” she said.
“I didn’t understand. Now I do.” He buckled his trousers. Nobody in the locker room ever mentioned anything like this.
Hesta’s sobs changed key, from fear to rage.
Flashing lights caught the clear glass windows on the wall of the right transept and splashed colors momentarily over the wall of the chapel. Thomas barely registered the event. He focused entirely on Hesta.
“I understand, too,” said Hesta. “I understand that everything I’ve heard about men is true.” She grabbed her rain slicker and was up and moving before he could react.
“Wait,” he said, as he pushed open the little door to the choir. It hurt him a little to stand. Hesta was already down the three stairs of the apse and into the center aisle of the nave. She did not wait. He caught up with her at the door.
“I’m sorry,” he said again. He was not angry now, but ashamed.
“I’m going back to the mixer,” she said, and she pushed open the door to the chapel. She had her slicker halfway on.
“Just wait a second for me to explain,” said Thomas. He tried to put on his jacket and hold the door and grab her elbow all at the same time. But Hesta was not even looking at him. She was looking next door toward the gymnasium. Two police cars and an ambulance had parked right on the grass of the Quad in front of the gym. Red and blue lights flashed on her face. Thomas saw a large pack of students, boys and girls, moving across the grass in front of Stringfellow.
“What’s going on?” he called. One of the boys, a newboy, stopped and located Thomas by the sound of his voice. Thomas could see the boy grin in the foggy light, and he realized how obvious it must look to everyone that he had been fooling around in the chapel. He felt embarrassed, but also a bit proud, and then he felt ashamed for feeling proud.
“Everybody’s going over to the gym,” said the newboy.
“What for?”
“Somebody’s dead,” said the boy.
“Who?” Thomas called. Hesta lifted the hood on her slicker.
“I heard it was Robert Staines,” said the boy, and then he ran ahead.
SCENE 33
At the sound of the sirens, Horace Somerville put down his magazine and stood up in the teachers’ lounge in Fleming Hall. He did not know why there were sirens on campus; he knew only that there must be trouble. He put on his raincoat with the furry lining and his floppy
