Free Beyond the Farthest Star by Bodie and Brock Thoene Page A

meeting of the department heads?
    His confusion was not relieved when Mrs. Harper slammed a handwritten note down on his desktop. “What’s this?” Johnston sputtered.
    “What the administration
and
the police missed at Columbine
and
Virginia Tech, Mister Johnston.”
    Mrs. Harper was at the top of her tight-lipped, most-demanding form.
    At the references to school massacres, Johnston’s blood ran cold. In Leonard? At
his
high school? Whom should he call first? The sheriff? The National Guard?
    “But what
is
this?” he said again, hoping to buy time and collect his shattered thoughts.
    “It’s that new girl—the pastor’s daughter, Anne Wells.”
    Johnston bent over the paper, struggling to decipher the handwriting. In his teaching days Johnston had been a gym instructor. The only writing he ever had to interpret was excuses for getting out of PE. “It looks like a poem,” he ventured.
    “A poem?” Mrs. Harper shot back. “A vile, evil collection of homicidal thoughts! Alien pods bursting from bowels! Slime and acid! What are you going to do about it?”
    Johnston still felt like he was racing to catch up. “You found this? Another student turned it in?”
    “No! The Wells girl read it aloud in class.”
    “She … volunteered this?”
    Mrs. Harper’s voice grew even shriller at the suggestion she was overreacting. “Don’t you see the threats behind the words? Her in her black clothes and black makeup and smirking ways? We need to investigate immediately. What do we really know about her background? Is she on drugs? Does the pastor own a gun? And what brought them to Leonard from California,
really?
Have the proper background checks been done?”
    Johnston could have asked what background checks wererequired for a pastor’s family to move from one state to another, but he wisely refrained.
    “I’ll call the sheriff,” Johnston said. “This is a matter for him.”

    The drumbeat of the marching band rehearsal echoed from the football field as the sheriff’s car pulled into the school parking lot. Anne, Stephen, Kyle, and Clifford sprawled on the picnic tables to catch the afternoon sun.
    Anne spotted Principal Johnston and Mrs. Harper as they greeted Sheriff Burns. Both men and Mrs. Harper turned at the same moment to cast stern looks toward Anne and the boys. What was up? Was this about Kyle? Anne noticed that he became even surlier beneath the authority’s watchful gaze.
    The hiss of snare drums sounding a quick march gave the atmosphere a kind of half-time feel. The second half of an important game was about to begin on the school campus.
    Kyle glanced away guiltily as Principal Johnston crossed his arms and stared in their direction. Mrs. Harper gestured forcefully, making a point.
    At the same instant Susan Dillard, flanked by two of her ditzy friends, sauntered toward Anne. Susan extended a notebook to Anne.
    “It’s a petition,” Susan announced. “Signed by everybody, stating that just because you’re a little different from the rest of us and because your favorite color is obviously black and you probably do own a trench coat …”
    Susan’s friend added, “And her poetry made you want to hurl, Suze …”
    Susan glared at her friend, who fell silent. “… doesn’t mean we don’t accept you as you are and, facing our fears, offer you a big Leonard High School hug.” She nudged her friend, who stepped forward to give Anne a cautious hug.
    Susan flashed a phony smile at Stephen. “Oh, and I really do miss ridin’ Midnight, Stevie.”
    Stephen seemed pleased. “Sure she misses you ridin’ ‘er, Suze.”
    Susan tossed her head and simpered, “Really, that is, like, so sweet.”
    Anne glared at the trio of girls, who scurried off.
    Leaning her cheek on her hand, Anne remarked flatly, “The Britneys of the world must die.”
    Stephen smiled nervously. “No, now, you didn’t mean that, Annie.” His eyes locked on Kyle. “Or all that other stuff you said today,