The Hayloft: a 1950s Mystery Page 4

  “All right. If you promise you won’t tell anybody that I was kicked out of Atherton. Or that I’m Ralph’s cousin.”

  Ed raised his eyebrows. “If that’s the way you want it. Ralph liked to show off. I was with him in the auditorium one time on a lark, and he stood on his hands on the barrier in front of the balcony seats.”

  “He stood on his hands?” My stomach felt queasy just thinking about it.

  “He was very strong. And he was coordinated. He put his weight on his hands and then he slowly raised his legs and arched his back. Although I almost vomited when I saw him do it, he was in such complete control of his body that it wasn’t all that dangerous.”

  “But you’re saying he might have done it when he was in an agitated state?”

  “He could have. And because he was agitated, maybe he wasn’t as careful as he should have been.”

  “So if he fell, he would have landed on his head.”

  “Well, actually, he landed on his back. Which makes sense because of the way he would have rotated. But I think the base of his skull hit the back of a seat and that’s what killed him. It broke his neck.”

  Ralph had been a daredevil. The times I had played with him, he had done some crazy things, such as climbing trees to much greater heights than I would. Our house in Atherton had a garage attached to it with a flat roof. Why a flat roof in snow country I’ll never know, but from the time I was old enough, whenever it snowed, I was elected to go onto the roof and shovel the white stuff off, so that the roof wouldn’t cave in. The roof had a low wooden fence around it, with a flat, wooden top. Ralph had walked around the roof on the fence. That had been scary enough. At least he hadn’t walked on his hands.

  “Have you told Ralph’s parents this?” I asked.

  “I haven’t told anybody, except you. And you’re sworn to secrecy. The poor guy’s dead. Does it matter exactly how it happened?”

  CHAPTER 6

  The next morning I was looking forward to my meeting with Sylvia and Natalie. I whistled on my drive to school. Well, maybe whistling isn’t the best way to describe it, because with my braces, the best I could manage was a sound like the wind moaning.

  As I walked through the auditorium, the lights were already on backstage. I leapt onto the stage and hurried to the dressing room. Natalie was there, but I didn’t see Sylvia. Natalie was dressed in a blouse without transparency, although the top couple of buttons were enticingly unbuttoned.

  “Hi,” I said in my friendliest voice. And then, stating the obvious, “I guess Sylvia’s not here yet.”

  “She’s not coming. She called me last night. She’s got a meeting or something to go to. She’s always got something happening.”

  “Oh.” Suddenly I felt awkward, alone with Natalie. With Sylvia I had felt comfortable from the moment I had met her, but Natalie was different. “She seems to be involved in a lot of things.”

  “Yeah. Now she’s trying to reform the school.”

  “Reform the reform school? I didn’t know it needed reforming.” Natalie gave a condescending chuckle, and I said, “Well, I guess we should practice nim.”

  “That’s what we’re here for.”

  There were things I would rather have done alone with Natalie, but we sat side-by-side and practiced nim. Over and over again. Until she caught on. Until she could respond to every move I made, instantly and correctly, almost without thinking about it.

  As we played, thoughts ran through my head as they always did when I was close to a good-looking girl. I wondered what it was like for two people with braces to kiss. I didn’t have a lot of experience in that area. The top of her blouse came open a little when she moved, and I saw a strap. One strap. She was not wearing a full slip today. Only a bra. That was very unusual. Most girls always wore slips.

  “I think I’ve got it,” Natalie finally said, jumping up and doing a little dance. “I’m ready for Barney.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked. Okay, it was partly because I didn’t want to lose this intimacy with her, but I also had real fears about whether she would clutch when faced with the overbearing Barney and forget the right moves.

  “I’m a cheerleader,” she said when I mentioned this to her. “I’m used to performing in front of crowds. I can handle the pressure.”

  The awkwardness began to come back now that we were no longer busy. It was time for me to go to my homeroom in the cafeteria. Only I didn’t want to leave just yet. To make conversation, I said, “Does Sylvia have a boyfriend?”

  “She’s going with a guy who graduated in June.”

  “So he’s in college now?”

  “He enlisted in the Army. He wants to go to Korea.”

  “Oh.” Korea. That conjured up ghastly images. People were dying there. Or at least they had been. I changed the subject. “Did you know this fellow, Ralph, who fell from the balcony?”

  She looked at me, a startled expression on her face. “You heard about that, eh?”

  “Yes. Umm…Sylvia told me.”

  “Everybody knew him. Ralph was a great guy.” Natalie choked up a little. “It shouldn’t have happened.”

  “Do you know how it happened?”

  “He was alone. Probably clowning around. That’s how boys are.”

  Dr. Graves had said much the same thing. It irritated me that everybody assumed Ralph was responsible for his own death. “Do you really believe that nobody was with him?”

  “That’s what everybody said.” Natalie looked at me. “Why are you so interested in Ralph?”

  I almost told her that I was Ralph’s cousin, but I couldn’t get it out. It would make the moment too emotional, and I wasn’t an emotional person. Instead, I said, “Just curiosity.”

  Why would he be in the balcony of the auditorium alone? If he were really clowning, he probably had an audience. I knew from my own experience that there was no point to showing off if nobody was watching.

  ***

  By lunchtime I was excited— and terrified. Natalie had said she was going to challenge Barney today. What if she lost? She would be humiliated again, and I would be to blame. I couldn’t coach her. I couldn’t even acknowledge that I knew her.

  On the other hand, if she won, I would have two permanent allies. And what allies. Beautiful Natalie. Even if I couldn’t date her, I could have a platonic affair with her behind Joe’s back. And my imagination would do the rest. And Sylvia, who made her own rules and was trying to reform the school. And then I realized that our friendship would help me spy on her. Bleah. Every time I had a happy thought, I was knocked back to reality.

  I went through the lunch line and took my tray to the far end of the cafeteria. I wanted to be as close to the table where Barney played his games as possible. I sat with two boys from my math class. I had earned the right to do so by answering a couple of questions in class. They were Barney admirers. Except where Barney was smart and loud, they were smart and quiet. Which was more typical. Barney was in my math class, too. But he sat across the room from me, and I hadn’t officially met him yet.

  I had no intention of being permanently identified with any particular group. I was going to be a man without a clique. I would associate with anybody and everybody, the way Sylvia did. She was my model. Today she was sitting at the table across the aisle with some other girls, including Natalie. Their excitement was palpable, as they talked rapidly in voices too low to carry to other tables. I knew what they were talking about.

  After about five minutes, Barney showed up at my table. I had thought he might. It would give me a chance to observe the enemy firsthand. He sat across from me, and one of my seatmates introduced us. He stuck out his hand, and I shook it. He was well-dressed for a brain, with a clean sport shirt and pressed pants. And his dark hair was immaculate.

  “You’re the guy who answered all the questions in math,” he said.

  I shrugged. “Once in a while I get lucky.”

  “Are you going to join the chess club?”

  “
I might.” That wasn’t on the forbidden list.

  “Maybe you’d like to play a game of nim sometime.”

  The last thing I wanted was for him to think I was interested in nim. I said, “I’m afraid that’s out of my league.”

  As the conversation turned to other things, I found myself sweating with anticipation at what was to come. I had trouble eating, which was unusual for me. But Barney, laughing and chatting, had no idea that his fate, as well as mine, might be determined in the next few minutes.

  Finally he said, “Okay, I need milk cartons.”

  I donated my two, and he set them up on the table beside us, which had been kept empty, not because it was beside the faculty area, which is what I had surmised, but because it was Barney’s private playground. He moved over to that table, and the room became quieter. The teachers had all left, which was undoubtedly why he picked this particular time.

  I glanced across the aisle to where Sylvia and Natalie were sitting. Sylvia was whispering in Natalie’s ear. Natalie looked pale. My anxiety deepened. Maybe she wasn’t up to this. Barney issued his challenge. The room became quieter. Nobody moved. Then Natalie stood up. She walked over to Barney’s table and sat down, opposite him.

  Barney had a strange look on his face. He said, “What are you doing?”

  Natalie said quietly, “I’m challenging you.”

  The silence in the cafeteria was now complete. You could have heard a napkin drop. For a few seconds, neither of them moved. Then, in something approaching his usual loud voice, he said, “Okay, we need stakes.”

  “You first,” Natalie said.

  “Well,” Barney said, “same as before. Except that you have to run around the building after school this afternoon, during football practice.”

  Football practice and cheerleader practice. When a lot of students would be there. Not only football players and cheerleaders, but also anybody else who could make it. And I knew there would be a crowd to watch a naked Natalie. And there would be consequences afterward. What Dr. Graves would do to her was anybody’s guess.

  “So, what are you going to make me do if you win?” Barney had recovered from the surprise of seeing Natalie issue a challenge.

  Natalie looked at him with disdain. “Nothing. The pleasure of beating you will be sufficient.”

  Barney stared at her with his mouth open. There was an audible sucking in of breath among the students, many of whom were now clustered around the table, and a few shouts of what she should make Barney do. Some of the suggestions were obscene, producing scattered laughter. But I began to understand that this was perfect. Losing would be Barney’s humiliation, and nothing could top that. I wondered whether Natalie or Sylvia had thought it up.

  Barney was on the defensive. Looking over the heads of others who were watching, I saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed. But again he recovered and said, somewhat gruffly, “Okay, go ahead and start.”

  Natalie smiled sweetly at him and said, “Barney, I’m going to be big about this and let you start today.”

  I almost cheered. She had pulled herself together. Barney was in a pickle, just as I had perceived he would be. He couldn’t insist that she start without giving himself and the game away. And losing face.

  He said, lightly, “Ladies first.”

  “No, I want you to start.”

  Her tone of voice let Barney know that he couldn’t jolly her into starting. Barney appeared to be studying the pieces, but I knew that he was trying to figure a way out of his dilemma. He must be wondering whether she really knew what she was doing.

  He looked up and said, “I gave you the opportunity to start, but if that’s what you want. Far be it for me to go against the wishes of a lady. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  He hesitated again, perhaps hoping that this psychological ploy would change her mind. She sat, immobile, with her eyes looking straight at him. And I knew what damage her eyes could inflict. He withered under her gaze.

  “Well, here goes,” he said, trying to cover his discomfiture. He removed three cartons from the row of five.

  I had been thinking he might do that and had drilled Natalie especially on the response to that move, because it was not at all intuitive. But when she didn’t do anything for a few seconds, I began to perspire anew. Had she forgotten? Had the lessons flown out of her head?

  I glanced at Barney. He was trying not to look cocky. He was thinking the same thing. She was at a loss. I glanced at Sylvia, who was standing beside Natalie’s shoulder. She was trying to hide her concern.

  Natalie looked up from the board at Barney and said, “I thought you were going to make it difficult for me.”

  She daintily picked up a carton from the row of seven and set it aside. One carton. My heart almost stopped. But when Barney moved his hand as if to take a turn, she slapped it and said, “Wait. I’m not done.”

  She picked up a second carton from the row of seven and tossed it back over her shoulder where it hit an unsuspecting boy in the chest. Laughter. She picked up a third carton and threw it in another direction. More laughter. Then the fourth. And the fifth. By the time she picked up the seventh carton, the cafeteria was a pandemonium. She flipped it right into Barney’s face and said, “Your turn.”

  Barney sat there with milk running down his nose. The game wasn’t even over yet, but he was already soundly defeated. Automatically, he removed a carton. Natalie countered. It was anticlimax. By the time Barney was forced to remove the last carton, the cheering must have reached Dr. Graves in his office, who would be wondering if he had an insurrection on his hands.

  Sylvia hugged Natalie. Other girls hugged her. Boys patted her on the back. Barney got up and slunk away, all alone. After he had left the cafeteria, I also left, all alone. Now that it was over, I was feeling let down, and I was wondering if my senior year had already peaked. It dawned on me that Sylvia and Natalie didn’t need me any more. And I didn’t have any other friends.

  CHAPTER 7

  For the third morning in a row, I arrived at the school early and went to the backstage rendezvous. Sylvia had caught me at the end of the day yesterday and asked if I could come. I was at my lowest ebb, emotionally, since I had started going to Carter. Ruing the past, missing my friends from Atherton, not looking forward to attempting to adjust to life at Carter. And thinking about Ralph, especially at night in his old room. And wondering how to fulfill the demands of Dr. Graves.

  Sylvia had stopped me in the hall as I was walking to my homeroom in the cafeteria, before being dismissed for the day yesterday. She was a ray of sunshine in an otherwise bleak afternoon. I told her that sure, I would meet her in the morning. She didn’t state a purpose, and I doubted that she had another intrigue brewing. I was getting used to rising with the sun, unlike my days at Atherton where I had slept as long as possible and underachieved my way to grades not high enough to satisfy my parents. I told my aunt and uncle that I was going in to do homework.

  The auditorium was dark as I entered. I looked at my watch. I was early. I carefully made my way down the aisle and onto the stage. It was almost pitch black in the wing. I remembered where the switchbox was, but finding it blind was something else. I felt my way, keeping my hands in front of me. I was getting close when I tripped on a piece of a set and fell onto my hands and knees on the wooden floor. Hard.

  Swearing under my breath, I crawled the final few feet to the wall in an undignified manner and located the switch. Being able to see improved my spirits. I wandered onto the stage and looked out at the empty auditorium. The balcony loomed above the orchestra section, ominous in the shadows. The balcony from which Ralph had fallen.

  I tried to picture how it had happened, but I couldn’t. Of course, there was a low wall in front of the balcony. Nobody would fall over it unless he was drunk—or pushed. Even then, the distance of the fall was not necessarily enough to kill a person, unless he landed on his head.

  One of the doors to the auditorium opened. I suddenly
realized that I was a sitting duck in the middle of the stage. Or at least a standing duck. I breathed easier when I recognized Sylvia and Natalie.

  As they came down the aisle, Sylvia said, “You look like the stage manager from Our Town. Are you going to start emoting?”

  “Sure,” I said. But an actor I was not. “I can recite ‘The Jabberwocky’ for you.”

  The girls laughed, and Natalie said, “We’ll keep you in mind. The senior play is coming up.”

  I lifted them up onto the stage, which gave me a feeling of power and preserved their modesty, and we went to the dressing room.

  “Who called this meeting?” I asked.

  “I didn’t get a chance to thank you for helping me,” Natalie said. “You saved my life.”

  She said this with a straight face and then she gave me a big hug. I wasn’t used to getting hugs from girls, and I enjoyed it to the fullest. And made it last as long as possible. Then Sylvia gave me a hug.

  “I didn’t realize this was such a big deal,” I said. “What’s going to happen to Barney?”

  “Oh, he’ll bounce back,” Sylvia said. “He’s made of rubber. But I don’t think he’s going to be challenging anybody to play nim again soon. If he does, all they have to do is use Nat as a consultant.”

  Natalie beamed and said, “Dr. Natalie, nim master.”

  I was feeling good now. I said, “And so the mystery of nim has been solved by the Terrific Trio.” I da-da-ed a short musical coda.

  Sylvia said, “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, I’ve got another project you two can help me with.”

  “Oh oh,” Natalie said. “Watch out for Sylvia when she has a project.”

  Sylvia ignored Natalie and said, “It’s Mr. Plover, the ninth grade science teacher. As everyone knows—or at least everyone who had him—he is incompetent. His teaching method, if you can call it teaching, is to distribute worksheets that he prepared ten years ago outlining each chapter of the textbook. The outlines contain blanks to fill in. You can fill in the blanks by skimming the chapter because the sentences on the worksheet are taken directly from the book. That’s the homework. In class, all he does is go over the worksheets. A second grader can do the work; you can get an A in the class without learning a damn thing, not to mention that it’s more soporific than sleeping pills.”