1KIDNAPPED!
THERE WERE NO seismic quakes, horrendous storms, nothing suspicious at all to warn Kelcie Murphy that she was about to unleash the greatest evil the world has ever known. Only a field trip to the Boston Museum of Fine Arts.
She’d been suddenly moved back to Boston last week, to a group home as miserable as the last nine, and it was her first day at yet another new school.
The bus ride was filled with the usual awkward smiles. Kelcie did her best to remain invisible, choosing a seat in the very back, and slinking down, pretending like she was asleep.
A slimy spitball struck her nose.
The boys across the aisle laughed, waving at her, trying to get her attention.
“Hey … Red?” one of them called.
Kelcie wiped the spitball off with her sleeve, hoping they’d move on to someone who cared, but they didn’t.
A wet straw poked her cheek. “Hey. I’m talking to you. What’s your name?”
“Asher, you’re so disgusting.” A girl with brown pigtails and flower overalls in the seat in front of Kelcie glanced over her shoulder, rolling her eyes. From the smirk on her face, Kelcie could tell she didn’t actually find him disgusting in the least. She spun around, smiling. “Your name’s Kelcie, right? I was behind you when Mr. Katz took attendance.”
Kelcie nodded. She pressed her sliding sunglasses up her nose, leaning the back of her head against the window, hoping the cool glass would ease the pounding in her skull. Kelcie’s head hurt, all the time. A dull ache that never went away. Bright lights and stress made it exponentially worse. Before tests, her eyes always felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets. It was why she never did very well in school. The pain made it hard to concentrate on anything but wanting it to go away.
“Sinusitis,” the first doctor had said.
“Vertigo,” the next diagnosed.
The last doctor was a different kind. He told her it was all in her head. Basically, she was nuts. After that, Kelcie stopped complaining.
“I’m Jenna. This is Susan.”
The blond girl next to Jenna saluted.
“I like your jean jacket. Looks vintage,” Jenna said, sliding into a gasp. “And that necklace. Can I see it?”
She reached out to touch Kelcie’s most prized possession. The necklace was the only thing of importance she had on her the night she was found. It was nothing special. A simple silver charm, a branch from a tree, but it was the only link to her past.
Kelcie recoiled.
Nobody was allowed to touch it.
Jenna took the hint. She lowered her offending hand, giving Kelcie an unwanted sympathetic smile. “Sorry. Um…” she hummed. “Want to be in our buddy group? We have room for one more. Has to be three.”
“No, thanks.”
“Why not?” Susan asked. “Someone already ask you?” Her expression was one of extreme disbelief.
“No.” Kelcie looked out the window at the piles of dirty snow.
“Then why not?” Jenna sounded insulted.
Kelcie looked back at her. The truth was that for Kelcie, friends never stuck. They found out she was in foster care and lived in a group home, or worse, their parents did, and then they blew her off. Said crappy things behind her back. That hurt way worse than not having friends.
So she lied. “I like being alone.”
* * *
KELCIE WAS THE last off the bus, the frigid air seeping through her jean jacket and hoodie. As she slung her backpack higher on her shoulder, a woman fell in step behind her.
Kelcie glanced over her shoulder, seeing a silver BOSTON’S FINEST patrolman’s badge on the woman’s lapel. Snow-white hair in a bun, a baseball cap, her hand gripping the top of a baton, the cop tossed Kelcie a lopsided sardonic grin that raised the hairs on the back of her neck. Police gave her the heebie-jeebies. Grilled for hours more than once for things she didn’t do, and a few things she did, Kelcie never took it as a good sign when they came too close. She picked up the pace, scooting around bodies until classmates surrounded her.
The museum was busy and loud, with loads of parents with strollers and other classes roaming around. Kelcie slowed her pace, walking several steps behind the rest of her classmates, hoping they’d forget she was here.
“Stay with the group,” someone called from up ahead.
Copyright © 2022 by Erika Lewis
