Holy Water...revised and abridged

Holy Water
By JLF

         Marie lay in her bed well into the afternoon, the covers pulled tight around her neck as she stared out her window into her backyard, not really seeing the tree she used to climb swaying with the weight and activity of the frolicking three-legged cats doing their best to catch a bird while it dined at her mother’s favorite bird feeder. Instead she saw a cruel and harsh world just waiting for her to emerge from her den so that it could snap her up in its jaws like the helpless prey she had become. She knew she couldn’t hide out in her old room forever, but oh how she wanted to try. It was safe there. There were no assessing glances or prying eyes or inquiring minds wanting to know all the wheres and why-fores of her mysterious and unprecedented homecoming. There was just peace and quiet and the familiar little bedroom still painted two different shades of purple, two walls a bright purple mountain’s majesty and the other two a light, calm, grayish lavender and the soft comfort of Minnie, her faded and worn Precious Moments bunny that had always been there to stave off the monsters from her nightmares.

         But there were some monsters not even the power and love of Minnie could chase away. Those were the monsters that had driven her home, her proverbial tail between her legs and such ire in her eyes that she seemed foreign to those who remembered her bright and vibrant spirit during her time in the sleepy town of Follett, TX. The new hardness added an edge to the ever-growing gossip surrounding whatever it was that had driven the fiercely independent Zona Marie Tanner back into the arms of her abandoned home town and all its occupants.

         Marie could almost feel the rumours starting the moment she’d sighted the Terrell’s house, that first landmark to the initiated who knew that the town actually extended well beyond the “Follett City Limit, Population 463” sign. I’ll bet she got pregnant and had to get an abortion. Maybe she got mixed up with a bad crowd and got into drugs. Maybe her grades were too bad, and she had to drop out for a year or so. Maybe she joined some crazy cult, and her mom had to come get her out before she did something really crazy like kill herself in a mass suicide stunt. Maybe she got an eating disorder. Maybe she went crazy and now has to be constantly supervised so she won’t do herself harm. Maybe…

         On and on it would go, like a psycho merry-go-round that no one would stop pushing even though you’d already thrown up all over yourself. It would spin and spin and spin until you believed that was exactly what the world was supposed to do around you: spin so fast that everything became a big blur. Maybe that’s how life really should be, she thought. It’d keep you from focusing on all that pain that creeps up and kicks the crap out of you whenever it feels like it.

         She’d already been home for a couple of days, but she’d been spared having to see too many old friends and neighbors. Blair had made a point to come home at the same time and had tried to spend some time with Marie, watch a few old movies and laugh like they used to, but the efforts were wasted. Marie didn’t want to laugh. She didn’t want to watch Gene Kelly play the suave ladies’ man while Frank Sinatra played the naïve ingénue only to see them both end up happy and in love by the end of the movie despite the many mistakes and flubs made by the lovers. Life didn’t work out like that. And she wanted to stop pretending that it did.

         Even when JR had come over to talk, she’d been reluctant to come out of her room at all, let alone hug him. And when she did finally give in and let him embrace her, she’d remained stiff and had pulled away after a few seconds, her whole body seeming to close in around itself to form some kind of shield. It disturbed JR, who had never known Marie to be so shy and awkward, especially around him. But it disturbed her more. She’d always been so comfortable around JR. He’d been more like a fun older brother than a youth minister to her ever since she’d met him six years ago. And though she’d found it strange when he hugged her so warmly upon that first meeting, she’d never been skittish or fearful. Yet now she was.

         She hadn’t talked to JR much. She’d been too nervous to string more than three or four words together at a time, let alone a whole conversation. So he’d left, promising to come back if she felt like confiding in him. But Marie didn’t feel like confiding in anyone. Only a few people knew the truth behind her return, and she meant to keep it that way.

         Her mother had looked on worriedly from the kitchen doorway as she dried the same bowl she had been drying for the fifteen minutes JR was there. When Marie caught her glance, she turned suddenly angry.

         “Stop looking at me like that, Mother! I am not some poor girl starring in your latest Lifetime TV movie, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t look at me like I was.” She stormed off to her room and slammed the door, an action her mother, being quite strong-willed in her own right, would have normally reprimanded her for. But this time she let it go. Instead, she went back into the kitchen and finished off the dishes, leaving Marie alone and unpunished out of pity.

         No one else came to visit after Blair and JR’s failed attempts. And Marie was quite pleased by that. She didn’t want to face anyone or anything outside of her quaint little bedroom. She just wanted to stay curled up in her antique, wrought iron bed, wrapped in her mother’s old college quilt and sleep forever, never to be awakened, not even by true love’s kiss.

         It wasn’t a kiss that finally woke her from her stupor. Instead it was the promise of something to do. Her mother had told her that there was an opening at the school for a summer janitor. Marie knew that her mother had only mentioned this out of a need to talk about something, even something so mundane, and now worried that she had sparked her daughter’s interest with the comment. Nothing she said could convince Marie that there were better employment options, such as their friends from church who could certainly use a babysitter or even a cook out at their ranch, which would get her away from Follett and all the gossip, but Marie would have none of it. Suddenly she wanted to show everyone in town that she wasn’t afraid to face them head on. So she called the school, talked to Sue, the secretary and football coach’s wife, and set up an interview with the new principal, a Mr. Cole. She’d been disappointed that her interview wasn’t with Molly, the superintendent she’d known all throughout her junior high and high school career, but then she remembered Molly’s propensity for only being around when it was absolutely necessary. Interviewing a potential janitor apparently wasn’t on her “necessary” list. So instead she was to interview with this Mr. Cole at four o’clock the next day. Sue quickly assured Marie that Mr. Cole was a very nice, personable man that she was sure Marie would like and that Marie was a shoo-in for the job, considering there were no other applicants.

         With that phone call, the merry-go-round stopped spinning and her few days of blissful solitude were up. Marie got up enough courage to shower and dress, though she still couldn’t face the thought of food. She sat on the old wooden church pew that her mother had salvaged from a decayed Spanish church in her own hometown before it was torn down, leaning back against the thin Coca-Cola afghan throw over the stiff, unrelenting back as she tried to work up enough courage to actually go outside. She wasn’t all that worried about the interview itself. She knew her old school had a habit of hiring students and ex-students to work as part-time janitors in the summers. She figured the job was as good as hers. What really frightened her was the thought of actually braving the conditions outside the house, but she resolved to do this one small thing and then hope that it somehow got her back on her feet.

         So she forced herself up with a strong push against the firm and unyielding wood and then walked confidently to the door, only noticing upon reaching for the knob that her hand was shaking like a tree limb with about fifty birds and one hungry cat perched in it. She flattened her hand against the door to still the shaking and then leaned her forehead against the warm glass paneling in an effort to calm herself. There’s nothing to be afraid of, just a little job interview. How scary can it be? And with that thought bolstering her anxious mind, she placed her hand on the knob and left the house.

         As she glanced up at the sky, she saw a few gray rain clouds off to the northwest, but she gauged that they were still far enough away to remain unthreatening. Unless the interview ran long, she should be home with plenty of time to spare before any rain fell, if it even fell at all as was quite customary in this hole in the wall of Texas where storms, especially summer ones, were always unpredictable.

         She walked to the school, not trusting herself to drive and also not seeing the point as it was less than a half a block away. She pushed on into the gravel sophomore parking lot, feeling a little lost to be wearing a casual suit and carrying a sensible purse instead of going about in jeans and a backpack. Nothing had prepared her for this moment. She felt as if she could look into the future and see herself as that creepy janitor lady who skulked around the school, looking on enviously at the simplicity of these childrens’ lives while ignoring the battered and empty shell that was her own. But she wouldn’t let that happen. This was just a small, part-time summer thing. She just needed to hide out here for the summer and collect herself, let herself get re-acclimated to living without fear and trepidation with every step.

         She headed for the back gym door, figuring it would be unlocked as it always was. The metal handle was surprisingly cold for such a warm day, and she was suddenly reminded of all those winter nights that she had slipped inside the basketball games without paying the dollar entry fee and had then wended her way into the rough wooden bleachers that the students preferred over the newer, metal seats to join her friends in cheering on their team. But this time she wasn’t greeted by the sounds of sneakers squeaking across the varnished wooden floors, accompanied by whistles from the referees and cheers or boos from the spectators, and instead found an empty silence. She shook off her nostalgia for those simpler days and headed down the deserted locker-room hallway. Normally, deserted hallways would have scared her a little, but somehow it seemed more appropriate to find the school like this. It was how it had always been after school hours. It almost seemed safer to turn the corner and head towards the auditorium foyer while her footsteps echoed off the tile floor and only her reflection in the windows that took up half of the walls of the foyer than it would have been had she suddenly heard the rush of many feet on the floor or seen many people heading down the hallway in the tinted mirrors the windows provided. She walked past the candy and coke machines, remembering all the times Josh and Jordan had tipped the machine to release someone’s trapped candy to the delight of all the underclassmen before setting things aright upon hearing Mr. Whitley’s quick footsteps resounding down the hall. She continued down the senior hallway and past the music room with its bright blue door complemented by darker blue music notes drifting across it, feeling as if she’d stumbled right back into place. Her confidence built as she walked, emboldened by the lack of fear she felt in this place. Maybe coming home wasn’t as bad as she had thought.

         She headed straight for the principal’s office, her self-assurance propelling her at full-speed until she was halted by the locked door and lack of lights behind the glass window and half-opened blinds.

         Surely he couldn’t have forgotten my interview, she thought. That would be too cruel after how difficult it was just to get here. No, he just has to be somewhere else in the school.

         So she started wandering. She checked the cafeteria that still managed to smell like those awful soy-burgers to her olfactory glands, the library that had been so underused when she was in school and, judging from the growing layers of dust, still was, the elementary and junior high classrooms with their brightly painted doors and many artful achievements displayed, even the bathrooms tucked down in the basement below the elementary library (the same bathrooms that had so terrified all of them as children when they predicted that Freddie Krueger himself waited down there for the perfect opportunity to slice and dice little girls like Julliane fries). Nothing. Her only conclusion was that he had indeed stood her up, and she was now free to go home and tear off her hateful, ugly, oh-so-adult suit and climb under her old quilt, burrowing until she was lost amidst the blankets and stuffed animals gathered ‘round to comfort her.

         As she was heading for the back gym door, tears fighting their way past her rapidly blinking brown eyes, she heard a noise from back down the hallway. She turned, curious and remembered the one room she had neglected to check: The Dungeon.
She knocked on the door, but there was no reply. So she pulled the door open and peeked inside. But there was no one in the room. She began to think her mind was playing tricks on her again when she noticed a red glow from beneath the darkroom door.
She crossed to the plain, wooden door, determined to give the man what for for his abominable and unprofessional behavior. She grabbed the doorknob and threw the darkroom door open without knocking, only prefacing her entrance with an annoyed, “Mr. Cole, I—” before she was suddenly drenched with water or film solution, she wasn’t sure. She sputtered, brushing the liquid from her eyes and wondering how her day could have gone from slightly hopeful to fully drenched.

         “Are you all right? I’m so sorry about that, but you startled me,” a voice said.

         “Yeah, and you threw some kind of toxic chemical all over me! I think I’m blind. I really think I’m blind!”

         She was faking of course. She just wanted to make him feel extra guilty for drenching her in whatever it was he had drenched her in. The truth was that her vision was just a little blurry, and no real stinging was occurring. Even though she couldn’t see clearly, his confusion was clear enough on his face.

         “I’ve never heard of anyone going blind from a little water. I have a towel if you’d like one,” he said, holding out a, from what she could distinguish, blue hand towel.

         “Thanks,” she replied, still disgruntled at having come all the way over here, spent most of her “interview” searching through the school for the principal, and upon finally finding someone, getting soaked to the bone. And in a tweed suit, no less. She whipped the towel out of his hands and began to rub the water from of her eyes. She then used the towel to try and soak up some of the water from her suit and hair, removing her jacket and throwing it across a desk as it had soaked up most of the water so she could focus on trying to make the satiny shell top a little less clingy. While she was working on getting as dry as possible, she assessed this man. She wasn’t sure if he was Mr. Cole or not. He appeared, much too young to be a principal and too good-looking too. A few months ago, Marie would have been very intrigued by this new occupant of her old hometown. But today, all she felt was a clear sense of danger.

         “Can I ask what you’re doing here? And how you knew my name?”

         “So you are Mr. Cole? Great. Didn’t you forget something today?”

         “Oh…you must be Miss Tanner. I am so sorry; I completely forgot.”

         “Apparently.”

         “It’s just that I got so caught up developing these pictures that I—”

         “So do I get my interview or not?”

         She knew she was overstepping her bounds. She couldn’t afford to get all snippy and lose an almost sure thing. She knew now that the one safe place for her to work would be the school. There’d hardly be anyone here to probe her with questions even during the day, and the summer solitude suited her very well.

         She took a deep breath and let it out as a half-sigh before opening her eyes and smiling at him.

         “I’m sorry, Mr. Cole. I think we got off on the wrong foot. Or several wrong feet. Let me introduce myself. I’m Marie Tanner and I’m here to apply for the job of summer custodian.”

         “Gideon…Gideon Cole,” he said as he took Marie’s proffered hand.

         “Gideon? Like the—”

         “Yeah, like the Bible.”

         “You make that sound like a bad thing. Maybe it’s just me but Gideon was my favorite Old Testament Bible hero. Your parents should be commended.”

         “I always thought they should have been shot. Guess what they called me on the playground?”

         “’Giddy’?” she said after a moment’s thought.

         “You’re good. Tease a lot of other children growing up, Miss Tanner?”

         “Only my fair share. Should we go back to your office for the interview?” she asked, trying to get him back on the topic that most concerned her…or should have most concerned her as she found herself thinking that she’d rather just stay down here in the quiet, intimate Dungeon and keep throwing witticisms around. But that was a dangerous thought that she refused to allow too much passage in her mind. No matter how nice and pleasant Gideon Cole seemed, the fear was ever present in her mind, warning her away from a seemingly “nice guy.”

         “Uh…no, I think this room will be fine. That is, if you don’t mind?”

         “It’s fine with me. I always found The Dungeon sorta cozy,” Marie said as she followed suit in taking a seat at one of the desks.

         “Wait, The Dungeon? That’s what all the kids call it.”

         “Are they really still calling it that?” she asked with a delighted smile. “I love being from a class of trendsetters.”

         “You were in the class who started that? How’d you guys come up with that name?”

         “Well, they started that whole dual-credit college course thing my senior year. We started out in a normal classroom down in the high school hall, but they ‘needed’ it for something else so we had to move. Since the supervisor of the class just happened to be the music teacher as well, we moved in there for a while. Then they moved us again. To here. As far as we knew this room hadn’t been used for anything other than storage for years. It’s tucked away deep down in the bowels of the school, so to speak, it has no windows, only plain cinder-block walls, and so we nicknamed it The Dungeon. It made it sound a little bit cooler to be down there to all the underclassmen and seniors not doing the dual-credit stuff.”

         “I heard you guys had some other great nicknames as well…like, for instance, the one for the principal at the time.”

         “Ah, yep, good ol’ Whitler. I was so proud of that one.”

         “Wait, you made that up? Just you, not the whole class?”

         “Guilty. I think it was shortly after we watched Schindler’s List for our English class, down in this room in fact. He came in and was being all snotty and overbearing, telling us some new rule he’d decided to implement. When he left someone said that he was, ‘such a Nazi.’ So I said, ‘He’s our own little Hitler. In fact, he’s Whitler.’ We all loved it, and thus a legend was born.”

         “Wow. And on that note, perhaps we should get to this interview before the night’s completely gone. I’m sure you don’t want to stay here forever.”

         “You got that right,” Marie said under her breath.

         “Do I need to fill out some kind of application?”

         “Nah, not for this job. Besides Sue offered to pull up all your old records if I wanted so that should be enough.”

         “You won’t find much there. Lots of good grades and two whole trips to detention.”

         “You certainly were boring back in high school.”

         “I liked to think of it as being smart. I didn’t want to end up living in Follett for the rest of my life.”

         “But you’re living here now. Why is that, by the way?”

         “That’s none of your business actually,” she said, trying to keep the annoyance tinged with anger from creeping into her voice.

         “I’m sorry I asked. I was just curious. When Sue told me about the interview, she just made it all seem so mysterious that you were back in town looking for work. I thought it might be one of those things they don’t share with new guys like me.”

         “Trust me, if Sue or anyone else in town knew why I was here, you’d know.”

         “Fair enough. She did tell me that you graduated with a degree in English.”

         “That’s right.”

         “So why would you want a job as a janitor?”

         “Because it’s something to do, and I need something to do. Simple as that.”

         Marie knew she was being extremely guarded and not all that personable, not exactly great interview etiquette, but she didn’t care. She’d seen a flare of interest in his eyes when she’d told him about her nicknaming exploits, and she wanted to forget that as soon as possible. It would make it easier to deny that, despite her fear, she was slightly attracted to him.

         “Well, the interview’s more of a formality than anything else, so congratulations. You got the job.”

         She smiled in relief before shaking his hand.

         “Thanks, Mr. Cole. I promise I’ll do a great job vacuuming and whatnot.”

         “I’m sure you will, Miss Tanner. If you’d like, you can come in tomorrow morning and Jimmy can fill you in on your duties.”

         “Tomorrow’s great. I can be here by six a.m. if you want.”

         “I don’t think we need to go that far. Seven will work just fine. Welcome to the team, Miss Tanner.”

         “Call me Marie…Coach,” she said, feeling that she could at least give him that nicety. “Now, I really better head home and change out of these wet clothes.”

         “Yeah, you do look a little cold.”

         Instinctively Marie crossed her arms over her chest. She didn’t know what to do with that comment. On the surface she felt angered and disgusted, but deep down, a part of her that she had thought was dead was laughing, laughing as she would have had some friend said something quite similar only a few months ago. That part of her felt almost normal for a second.

         “I’m…so sorry about that. That bordered on sexual harassment and will never happen again. Sometimes I forget that I’m a principal and have to be more professional than if I was just talking to a friend.”

         “Well, try not to forget, and we’ll call it even,” she conceded, clearly reading that he had just been joking and couldn’t possibly know that what he had said had immediately heightened the fear she felt from just being close to him. She smiled a bit warily at him before heading to the door.

         He followed Marie out of The Dungeon, trying to be courteous but only succeeding in making her more nervous.

         “Maybe I should drive you home. It’s pouring out,” he said, genuine concern edging his voice as he looked out the big glass auditorium foyer windows and onto the hard summer rain pouring down outside the confines of the school that she had been so sure she would beat home. She smiled politely at the comment, all the while trying to think up the best way to turn it down without seeming too aloof.

         “Nah, I’ll be fine. I like a little rain on the walk home. I can almost pretend I’m in England and not Texas.”

         “Do you have far to go? Maybe I should walk you there.”

         Was that a note of hopeful, boyish ambition in his voice? Could he really want to walk me home? she thought, not really trusting her wishy-washy emotions at the moment.

         “It’s not far. Just like half a block.”

         “I don’t mind.”

         “But you’ll get soaked.”

         “So will you.”

         “I already am.”

         “Then it’s only fair that I join you in being soaked for causing your previous soaking.”

         “Thanks, but no thanks. I’d rather walk alone. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodbye, Mr. Cole.”

         “’Bye,” he said dejectedly, but not pushing her any further.

         Marie took her time walking home, just enjoying the rain. She jumped in the gathering puddles in the road. But she couldn’t stay out there in the rain forever. She finally relented and headed towards her door when she heard someone calling her name.

         “Marie, you forgot your coat,” Mr. Cole said, gasping slightly as he had apparently run after her in order to return her coat before he lost sight of her altogether.

         “Thanks. But you didn’t have to run over here to give it to me. You could have just given it to me in the morning.”

         “True, but I did feel guilty about soaking you earlier. I suppose this will have to do as my penance.”

         She laughed at him, really laughed and for a moment, all the anger and pain left her.

         “Thanks, Mr. Cole.”

         “You’re welcome,” he said, handing her the coat and letting his hand casually brush hers in the process. To her own amazement, she didn’t pull away abruptly in fear, feeling almost normal instead of constantly terrified and watchful. He smiled and then turned and began walking back to the school. As he reached the middle of the street, he turned and began walking backwards so he could get off his last parting shots. “And you can call me Gideon. Or even Giddy if you prefer.” And then he turned again and splashed into the very same puddle Marie had been splashing through only moments before, soaking his already wet form as intentionally as she had. She laughed again, tossing her head back to catch a few spare raindrops as she laughed like the playful girl she’d thought was dead and buried.

         Then she let the rain wash over her, baptizing her in a way that no preacher with all his high and mighty words had been able to articulate. This was her second chance, and she was going to make the best of it. The past was finally washed clean away, all the stench of it gone and replaced by the embrace of simple rain. As she turned to the door to go inside, she saw her reflection in the glass, her body appearing almost haloed by the now misty rain. She smiled slowly, seeing a light in her eyes that she had thought had disappeared that one violent night. But it hadn’t disappeared. It had only been banked for a time until the rain could rekindle it. And now it flared brighter than ever, no longer muddied by fear and pain, instead washed clean by holy water.