Wolf Moon: The Grazi Kelly Series

Chapter 5: Time went by

The week went by quickly after that. I didn't do as bad as I thought on my Lit test. In fact, I aced it. I have a knack for essay questions. Even if I don't really know the answer, I have a way of writing that my teachers seem to like. I just tell them what I do know, and they go for it. Mrs. Theodore is harder than most to get over on, but she couldn't find error with my work. I was really relieved. I needed to keep my grades up to get into a good college and earn a scholarship. It was important to me, the idea that I would go to a good school, one that was far away, get a degree, a good job and live a happy and productive life.

By Friday morning the heat had become just about unbearable. I spent hours after school the day before weeding our garden and trying to give what little water we were allowed to the herbs and plants that were most likely to benefit from it. I felt guilty for the long shower I had when I was feeling ill the other day. After dinner that night I stacked lawn and leaf bags full of dry brittle debris from the yard onto the curb for pick up. It was becoming clearer that the entire tri-state area was suffering from this drought.

The state government was trying to get approved to airlift water from neighboring states to the more important fields of corn and grain that were as of now burning in the brutal sun day after day with no relief in sight. In our hometown, local carwashes were forced to close, and people were tense as supermarket prices continued to rise on veggies and fruits. As usual half of the air conditioning at school wasn't working and they gave us a "dress down" day. That usually meant jeans and t-shirts, but for Julianna and the cheering clones it meant summer dresses with crisscross backs and little button up short sleeve cardigans since spaghetti straps were off limits. And of course, the hairstyle of the day was a fishtail braid turned up into a clip with clever little wisps around the face. My hair was in a messy bun on top of my head and I had on my usual Levi's and a t-shirt that said "Go Green" with a picture of Yoda on the back.

I walked into the school library and expected to see Sister Marcia. She was about ninety years old, a sister of Charity, and the school librarian. Instead of the familiar white and gray habited nun sitting in her old leather chair with her traditional steaming mug of tea, a slight blonde woman in a beige tank dress was in her place. She was almost painfully thin with large gray eyes and a small unsmiling mouth. She was unpacking a box of books.

"Um, hi," The woman gasped and dropped the box cutter she was using.

"Ooh, you scared me," She looked at me and smiled, a small frightened looking smile and I felt bad immediately. She was so small she looked as if she'd fall over if I even breathed on her.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm Grazi Kelly, I usually help Sr. Marcia with the library books during this period."

"Oh yes, she left me a note about you. Maria Graziana, right? Well um, hello, I'm Ms. Vorax. I'm filling in this marking period for Sr. Marcia. She's having hip replacement surgery. It's so nice to meet you, I understand you are earning your service points for Confirmation by helping out in here, is that right?" I shook the small, fragile hand. I didn't mean to stare, but I couldn't help it. I felt like I recognized her.

"Yeah, I mean I'd help anyway, but we are required to perform twenty-five community service hours in order to meet our requirement to make Confirmation in the spring. Oh, I have a sheet here you are supposed to sign for me whenever I come in." I handed her the sheet. She nodded and took out a pen. She wrote her name in careful and precise letters. She reminded me of when my cousin, Rebecca, first learned how to write in script. As if she just learned too, silly of me, I guess.

"I'm sorry, but you look familiar, did you sub here before?"

"Um no, no I haven't." Her hands shook as she reached for the box cutter again. Then it hit me. The big eyes, the nervous expression, I knew where I had seen her. Her face was plastered on the news the second half of the summer! She was the sole survivor of a horrible camping disaster that happened over the summer.

Two hikers got lost on the Kittatinny Range, a pretty popular Appalachian trail that crosses the Delaware River. They were missing for over ten days during one of the summer's heat waves. Temperatures were over 100 degrees for days. People speculated the pair got lost in one of the bogs or fell off a steep, rocky pitch somewhere. It was later reported their camp was attacked by some kind of black or brown bear. Ms. Vorax survived, but her companion was apparently killed and eaten by the animal in a gruesome attack.

I didn't know what to do, or what to say so I just put down my school bag and started helping her go through the box. We worked quietly for a few minutes then students started coming in. Ms. Vorax kept her head down and when a freshman boy came in with a question, she was forced to face the students.

"Hi, Can you help me with this? I'm supposed to get information on the Revolutionary War that comes from an actual book?" John Kercheck, the freshman, looked at the teacher, then he started waving his hand around like a complete i***t. "Oooh, Ooh, I know you! Wow! Yeah, you're that lady! The survivor from the Sunfish Pond bear attack!" Ms. Vorax stopped and looked down panic quickly spreading over her. I couldn't believe his complete lack of manners and disregard for her feelings.

"Hey John, you want that section right there. Non-fiction, history, it's separated by country then by year. Thanks." I pushed him along and stood guard over the new librarian. Most students had their own laptops, so they didn't need much help. But for the ones that did, I fielded questions and helped the new freshman learn how to use the library system and the one computer we had in the corner.

"I'm sorry you had to be put through that. You probably don't like to talk about it." I didn't look directly at her as I spoke, sometimes it's just easier to say things that way.

"Oh my goodness, I have got to get it together. Thank you so much, Maria. I just wasn't expecting- I mean you're right I don't. I don't mean to be rude, but I lost one of my best friends. It was horrible losing her like that, you can't imagine. The violence, the blood, I'm sorry, Maria, I can't talk about it."

"No, it's okay. I mean, I understand. Please call me, Grazi." The tears in her eyes made me ashamed of that dopey freshman. I couldn't imagine having such a terrible experience and I was almost glad I had no close friends to lose. Almost. I turned my head to give her a minute to pull herself together. She used a tissue to blot under her large gray eyes and pasted a bright smile on her face. It was fake, but I wasn't going to call her on it. She'd been through enough. The reporters harassed her through her rescue and recovery in the hospital, I figured she earned her privacy.

"Okay Grazi, why don't you start shelving these books? I already entered them in the library database, and I will finish opening these boxes, okay?"

"Sure." I smiled at her and headed toward the stack of new books. We worked in companionable silence for the next forty minutes. I was more interested in the selection I was shelving than in talking anyway. Several books on the history of the Catholic Church, patron saints and where they lived, religion and war, a history of popes. One book grabbed my interest. It wasn't new like the others. It was big, leather bound, its pages edged in gold. I glanced at the title, Mysticism, Legends, and Folk Tales: A History. No author listed. I was sure Sr. Marcia would have never let that book through the door much less put it on a shelf. I was super curious.

"No, no, not that one. That's personal research, um, for my thesis," Ms. Vorax moved with more speed and strength than I would have given her slight frame credit for. She took the heavy book from my hands. It disappeared under the desk. I'll admit I didn't think about it again. I took it as she said, it was for her own research project, not school property, and therefore, not my business. Besides, I felt bad that the horror story that happened to her over the summer had been thrown up in her face on her very first day at work. I felt embarrassed and a little protective. In any case, I just wanted to finish shelving the books in silence.

I never had to worry about tripping over my tongue with Sr. Marcia. It was kind of exhausting doing so now. I should probably send her a get-well card. I distracted myself with thoughts of my old librarian. I missed her off-key humming. She would constantly hum Church hymns while we worked. It left little room for chit chat. Sometimes she would ask after my grandmother and family and sometimes she brought up things my mother did when she attended this very same school. But that was as far as it went with Sr. Marcia.

I missed her today and realized I appreciated the boundaries the older nun had set up between herself and the students. I looked over at the tiny and fragile Ms. Vorax and wondered how soon before the rest of the school found out who she was. As it turned out not very long at all. Everyone was talking about our temporary librarian and the hiking trip that ended in the gruesome death of her best friend, Estella Ramirez. By last period I had heard it so many times I thought I would scream. It was terrible and tragic, and it was real. It wasn't some B horror flick! I wished they could just leave it alone and respect Ms. Vorax's privacy.

"I heard they only found pieces of that other hiker."

"Yeah, like a Nike and some chewed on rib bones."

"They never found the bear either."

"I heard she spent the rest of the summer in a nut house."

More snickering and rude comments were made as I walked to the bus stop. Three o'clock. You could tell the time by how many girls were sprinting down the hallway and outside, sweaters off showing tanned shoulders and cleavage. Some took off their flirty dresses and revealed skimpy bikini tops and cutoffs. The boys followed after them of course. Like puppies, helpless to resist what they saw as a treat. They all laughed and talked about the pool party at Lizette's house after school. Not surprisingly, I was not invited.

The bus was late which made not being invited to the pool party even more humiliating. I was probably one of ten people not going. I turned and noticed that new priest, Fr. Gallagher. He was standing outside of the school in a white-collared black short sleeve shirt, the summer uniform for priests. His arms were crossed as he looked around campus. I supposed he was making sure everyone was behaving accordingly. His gaze found mine, and he nodded. I turned around and kept walking. He was a little too intense for me.

I spent that weekend helping Nonna, attending Mass, and doing homework. Sleep was hard to come by in the unbearable heat, so I spent the hours reading and listening to music. I had an old tape of my mom's that I found in the attic closet when I was twelve. It was a mixed tape and I had since downloaded most of the songs onto my iPod. My mom loved a lot of different types of music. She had everything from dance, to hip hop, early rap, old rock and roll, and alternative. My favorites were the eighties punk bands, like The Ramones. I felt closer to her when I listened to the music she did at my age. I googled the lyrics and had them committed to memory. Maybe I thought knowing her favorite music would help me be closer to her. I don't know. It made me feel better and that was worth it, I guess.

By Monday morning news of our school librarian was dying down. I headed over to return some books and say hi to Ms. Vorax. I stopped in the doorway. The cheerleaders and some members of the football team were standing there chatting and gathering some tools and things.

"Here, let's hang this arrowhead vine from my daddy's greenhouse over your desk Ms. Vorax." I guess Julianna was showing extra school spirit by sprucing up the library. But a plant from her "daddy's greenhouse" when she never even bothered to go to Uncle Vito's office never mind the small greenhouse where he grew specialized plants, flowers and shrubs. Maybe she was going to run for student council or something. Anyways, I looked around and was shocked at what the addition of a few hanging plants and framed museum posters could do. Sure, I helped organize and stack books, but I never would have thought of this. Watching Julianna give Ms. Vorax a fake little hug and air kiss was about as much as I could take. What a phony! I mean, considering my cousin had never, to my knowledge, entered the school library before. I turned around and walked out unnoticed.

The temperature was in the nineties and the student body was vocal about their discomfort. The amount of groaning during class had increased by at least twenty percent.

"Heads up!" Several illegal water balloons were thrown during lunch period. Of course, I got hit right in the head and had to spend my entire history class with Mr. Gundy taking frequent glances at me. Not that I could blame him, my hair and uniform were soaking wet. I was grateful I had on a tank top underneath my blouse or it would have been completely transparent.