Bradbury Heights: IV – Unseen Persons

Sheer white sunlight finally pierced through the cluster of crusty clouds as Mike took his seat in the blustery classroom awaiting the chime that would indicate the initiation of the day’s didactic activities. Sketching aside the papers littering his desk, the stripling student tediously balanced a pen on his forefinger, pondering upon the inner intrinsic complexities of the lead black chalkboard.

A fierce force fobilated into the desk beside Mike, disengaging his attention from the misty depths and scratchy white scrawl on the wall at the front of the cluttered classroom. A boy with identical smart features and genuine handsome countenance settle into the vacant seat.

“Where were you last night?” pried Mike, noting the same khaki slacks and tidy button down that his brother had been wearing since yesterday. Sneering a grin, Gabe flicked his eyes to the opposing row of desks and dashed a wink to one Margaret Freeman who masqueraded a smile carelessly, dark skin shimmering, only outmatched by her equally equivocal eyes and atramentous braids.

“I see.” Comprehension distilled upon Mike’s understanding and he gave a noncommittal sort of grunt, focusing, instead, his interest once more towards the clock stationed above the doorway.

“Counting the seconds? Really Mikey, get over it. We’re not twelve anymore, though even if I was… Haha!” Mike rolled his eyes at the comment, but Gabe continued, “Besides, aren’t you seeing that rich girl anyways? What’s her name..? Tell you what,” not waiting for a reply, “you can borrow the Vette this weekend. Bring her up to the Heights and, well, I’m sure you can take it from there!” He guffawed again.

“Will you knock it off??” Mike demanded, and, though laughing still, his brother consented, turning to starboard to greet his pals that just entered the room, doubtless recounting the previous night’s activities to them as well.

 Exasperated already from the harassment, Mike tossed his gaze out the window, inclined to daydream for the remaining moments before class began, but a solitary someone caught his attention. What fair haired dove, dancing trepidatiously along the way, circumspectly dodging with care the lingering students that lagged in their efforts to reach class. Mike stared unremittingly. How, thought he, could such a beautiful, pure person still exist and grace this earth.

A slammed door pulled him back inside, and Gabe did not fail to detect his brother’s smug smile. “What’s with you?” the gloating brother queried

“Nothing…” postulated Mike, glancing again to the windowpane. This time the girl stood still and alone, staring straightway back at Mike. It was impossible to tell before in the rapidity of her movements, but now Mike could discern her pallid blue eyes. She waved and the hairs on the back of his neck were stricken as with electricity. There was something odd about her this morning, yet what?

Mike waved back and Gabe, who had not ceased to monitor his brother, punched Mike in the arm, hard. “Who are you waving to?” Gabe’s face was contemptuous yet curious.

Before Mike was able to reply, however, the bell finally tolled and their teacher began to make the usual preparatory announcements for the day.

“Barty’s late again, hah!” observed Gabe quietly, and then scornfully appended, “What a guy. Just ‘cause his dad owns half the town he thinks he can do whatever he wants.” This, of course, was more speculation than exaggeration.

Then suddenly Gabe spoke with a grin of realization, “That’s right! The girl you like, it’s Barty’s—,” but once again the thought was cut short, this time by the school’s PA system shrieking to life and an audible groan from their classmates as the sound pierced all ears. 

“May I have your attention students,” the principal proclaimed this as if the scream of the microphone bursting to life moments ago left some room for doubt, “I regretfully have to report some news of particular consequence this morning. As you are aware, Bradbury Heights is a rather far cry from the uncouth manner of the rest of society. Unfortunately, however, we do not always escape certain demonstrative tragedies which remind us of the shelter and sanctuary our noble town offers. Sadly, early this morning one of our dear students, Missy May-Hughes, was murdered in a most gruesome manner. Due to the nature of this tragedy I have decided to dismiss classes for the day. Please make your way back home in a respectable fashion…”

The voice trailed off with further instructions, but Mike was lost in a sea of confusion. Gabe even stared at him, mouth agape. “No way man that’s the girl isn't it?”

Mike stood abruptly and spun once more to the window “But I just…” he scanned the deserted yard in search of the gypsum figure he had seen only a minute ago to no avail. She was gone. Disappeared. Did I imagine it?

Gabe was now at his side, “What’s up Mikey? You look like you've seen a ghost.”

As Michael turned to face his brother the color had indeed vacated the capillaries under his skin. Pushing by his twin, Mike cut through the murmuring clamor of the room and made his way hurriedly to the door.

“Hey, Mikey! Mike, Michael!” Gabe stood still amidst the din of sobs and gossip before conceding with a shrug and fixated his efforts on consoling the dearly stricken Margaret.