Lady with the purple eye (school edition). François Bloemhof

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      The girl who was with Marley had the same red-brown hair as her. Bert also had red-brown hair. In fact, Chris thought, the four of them looked like they were family.

      “Hi, Bert,” the girl with Marley said.

      “Hi, Angela,” Bert said.

      Angela introduced them. “This is my brother.”

      “And that’s mine,” said Marley.

      Chris couldn’t help but notice that Bert and Angela appeared to be a lot closer than him and Marley. Bert seemed very protective of his sister. He took a sandwich from his lunchbox and gave it to her.

      “Chris, I have to speak to you,” Marley said suddenly.

      “Bert and I are talking now. Can’t this wait?”

      “It won’t take long!”

      Chris rolled his eyes. “Okay then.” They walked to a nearby tree. The branches cast long, sharp shadows over Marley’s face. Why was she looking so scared?

      “Miss Badman isn’t a regular person,” Marley whispered.

      Chris burst out laughing. “Come again?”

      However, when he saw how serious she was, he remembered the feeling he’d had in the car yesterday.

      “She’s not normal,” his sister insisted. “I was in the library just now. She had one green eye, and the other one was purple. And then they were both green again!”

      “Marley …” Now he knew for certain she’d lost it. “You’ve been read­ing too many horror stories. Things like that don’t happen in real life.”

      “It’s exactly what happens in stories. There’s always someone who knows that something’s wrong, but no one wants to believe them!” Marley glared at him.

      “Yes, yes. Can we talk about this after school?”

      Marley gave a long sigh. “I suppose.”

      Then she called to Angela and off they went. Chris watched them walk away. Marley suddenly looked very young. If there were people around who weren’t regular, Marley would be an easy victim, he thought.

      Then he noticed the short guy with the shaved head. The boy was standing a few metres away, all by himself. The sun shining on him made his scalp gleam like a pink light bulb.

      Chris looked away, wondering how he would have felt if it had been him standing there, shaved and all alone. He again had a brief stab of guilt for laughing at that guy the previous day.

      “Let’s head for the entrance, Bert,” he said.

      The last few minutes of school the next day seemed endless. The weather outside was better than ever, but thirty-two grade nines were trapped behind their desks, and the only possible entertainment was a history lesson.

      When the intercom crackled, it wasn’t a moment too soon, and everyone perked up. “Boys and girls, we have the following announcements,” came the headmaster’s voice.

      One of the school rules was that you had to watch the intercom while the headmaster made the announcements. But Chris found it difficult to act interested today.

      Something had been wrong with Bert all day. He looked the same as ever with that shock of red-brown hair. But he just sat there, as if frozen. The teachers had eventually given up on getting any reaction from him, and so had Chris.

      That morning at the gate, Bert had scarcely greeted him. His dad hadn’t dropped him and Angela off as usual.

      “What’s the matter?” Chris had asked.

      “Nothing,” Bert had replied, turning his eyes away and swallowing hard.

      But Chris could tell that something was wrong, and he could hear it in Bert’s voice. He was whispering!

      “Did you get some bad news?” Chris had persisted.

      “No!”

      When someone said no like that, it meant yes.

      Chris had stopped himself from asking any more questions.

      For the rest of the day, Bert had worn a worried look on his face, a kind of what’s-going-to-become-of-me expression, and moved around as if in a trance.

      Fortunately the school day was now over. The bell rang and everybody started packing away their books.

      Bert didn’t seem to have heard or noticed.

      “Hey, we can go now.” Chris punched his shoulder lightly.

      When they walked down the passage, most of the learners were already outside.

      “Don’t you think maybe you should …” But Chris fell silent; he suspected he was beginning to irritate Bert.

      The next minute his friend drew in his breath and stopped dead.

      “Now what?” Chris asked.

      Bert’s voice was thin. “It’s nothing.”

      Chris looked in the direction where Bert had been staring and saw Miss Badman disappear around a corner. Her movements were furtive, like a hunter stalking its prey.

      “Did she scare you?”

      “No!”

      Bert’s answer didn’t convince Chris.

      “Bert …”

      “Leave me alone!” Bert cried out and scurried off quickly.

      Chris was still shaking his head when he reached his mom’s car. He was so lost in thought that he barely acknowledged her.

      When Marley got into the car, she said: “Angela was acting funny all day, she didn’t want to speak to me – she was walking around like a zombie.”

      Chris frowned. “Something’s up with Bert too.”

      “It’s them over there, right?” Their mom pointed at the two as they trudged along. “Maybe there’s trouble at home. Perhaps their parents are getting divorced? It happens so often these days.”

      But that wouldn’t explain Bert’s reaction at seeing Miss Badman. The back of Chris’s neck tingled as he remembered what Marley had said: Miss Badman isn’t a regular person.

      Their mom wound down her window as she drove up behind Bert and Angela. “Can we give you a lift?”

      Angela was very pale. “We’re not allowed to speak to anyone.”

      Bert quickly put his hand on her shoulder and looked worried. “She’s just joking, but thank you. We’d rather walk.”

      Chris’s СКАЧАТЬ