An Acquaintance with Darkness - Ann Rinaldi [72]
The girls stood around bug-eyed, watching him make his ascent to the second floor. I stood back, blinking in the warm May sunlight dappled by lacy trees overhead. Birds sang. The sky was as innocent as a newborn's eyes. From above the wall of the courtyard could be heard street sounds, carriages passing by, people talking. Yet we were sealed off here. No one could see us.
Jason stopped climbing and peered into the window.
"Well?" Myra called up softly. "Can you see anything?"
"I sure can."
"Was my daddy right?"
"He sure was."
"What do you see?"
"Two of them," Jason reported. His voice sounded a little weak. "Lying on tables. Covered with sheets. All I can see are the faces. Men, I think."
"Don't say another word," Myra ordered coldly. "Come down this instant!"
Jason climbed back down, then held the ladder for Myra. She got onto the first step, then smirked over her shoulder at me. "Do you know whose classroom that is up there?" she asked.
"I have no idea," I said. "I've never been here before."
"It's your uncle Valentine's."
"You're lying, Myra. You just don't know what to do anymore to make yourself important. I don't know whose laboratory that is, but I do know that if you don't get everybody out of here soon, we can all get into trouble."
"Trouble?" She was climbing the ladder, unafraid. "We aren't the ones in trouble." Then she stopped and peered in. "Oh, my God." She groaned.
"What, what?" the girls on the ground called up. "Tell us, what do you see?"
"Two men, just like Jason said. Dead. Oh, my God, I was right. My daddy was right. I have to tell him." She scrambled down.
On the ground she was immediately surrounded by the other girls, all asking to be next climbing up the ladder. "Wait, wait," she said. Her face was white. She looked at me. "I'm not lying. I swear to you, Emily, there are dead men up there. And it's your uncle's classroom. My daddy knows it is. I've been here in this courtyard with him before. He's pointed it out to me."
"If it is," I said, "any specimens they have up there are legal. Donated. Or executed prisoners. And you've got no right poking around here today. Nor did your father."
She looked dazed and thrilled with herself all at the same time. "Listen, everybody," she said breathlessly. "My father talked to Dr. Bransby two weeks ago. Because he got wind of the fact that Bransby had two dead burn victims shipped in from that riverboat explosion on the Mississippi. There were victims of that tragedy missing. Their relatives were looking for them. And somebody told them about my daddy and how he was investigating grave robbers."
She paused breathlessly and met my eyes, then continued.
"My daddy was in this very laboratory talking with Dr. Bransby. The doctor invited him in and showed him around. At that time he said there were no dead burn victims. That he had no more legitimate specimens because the semester was at an end. Well, what I just saw wasn't live people. And their faces had burns."
"Lies," I hissed. I made my way through the other girls and stood toe-to-toe with Myra. "Lies. How do we know this isn't all a trick? That maybe your daddy told you those relatives of the victims got in touch with him, and you made the rest up to feed your need for excitement? How do we know there really are dead bodies up there?"
I don't know where I got those words. I was trembling. They just tumbled out of me. But they sounded good. And they fit the occasion.
Myra tossed her head back, raised her chin haughtily. "Why don't you climb up the ladder and see?" she challenged.
Silence. I heard street sounds. Birds chirping. They sounded far away.
Myra's eyes glittered. "Well? Are you afraid? The others are all going to do it. Do you want them telling you? Or do you want to see for yourself?"
"I'll do it," I said. And slowly, I began to climb the ladder.
First rung. She's lying. When I get up there, I'll tell her so.
Second rung. Robert invited me to come and see if there were any bum victims here.
Third rung.