The Silent Scream (2 page)

“I’ll help,” the blond swimmer volunteered. “I’m Linda Carlyle, and this is Cath Devon, and over here is Milo Keith.” She smiled down at Milo. “They’re freshmen, too.”

Jess looked with interest at the pair as Trucker acknowledged the introductions by shaking everyone’s hand. Cath Devon was tiny, and would have been pretty if she hadn’t looked so tense and anxious. She had very pale skin and a mass of dark, curly hair that spilled across her shoulders and threatened to overwhelm her. She was dressed in preppy clothes: a blue plaid, pleated skirt and a blue crew-neck sweater, but the heat didn’t seem to be bothering her at all.

She should be melting in that outfit, Jess thought, but she looks as cool as April rain. Still, there was something about her mouth … the jaws were clenched too tightly. And didn’t that look like fear in those dark eyes?

Well, weren’t they all a little scared? Leaving home for the first time could do that.

Milo Keith was very tall and very thin. His hair was long and needed both combing and trimming, as did the tangle of beard hiding his chin. His eyes were a brilliant blue behind wire-rimmed glasses.

Giving Trucker, Jess, and Jon no more than a polite nod, Milo returned to the book he’d been reading, positioned on his crisscrossed legs.

“Where is Mrs. Coates?” Jess asked Trucker as she moved toward the big, wooden front door. She fumbled in her backpack for the key.

“She went to town,” Trucker told her. “Said if you didn’t have your key with you, I was to let you in. You got it?”

Jess unearthed the key and nodded.

“Well, go ahead then,” he said, smiling slightly. “No sense standing around out here. I’ve got to get back to work. You need anything, give me a holler.”

“Thanks.” The picture of herself “hollering” for help wasn’t an appealing one, but it was nice to know that if she did, someone would come. She inserted the key into the lock and turned the fat, brass doorknob.

And then, although she couldn’t have explained why, instead of entering first, which would have been logical since she was the one who had opened the door, she stood back and urged the others in ahead of her.

I’m just being polite, she told herself as they marched inside. I’m letting them go in first because my mother raised me properly and I’m extremely well-mannered.

“What’s the matter?” Trucker asked, looking up at her thoughtfully from the wide stone steps he was sweeping. “Scared?”

And it occurred to her that she was.

S
COLDING HERSELF FOR BEING
silly, Jess moved on inside the house, closing the heavy door behind her.

As she followed the others from living room to library, dining room, and kitchen, Jess’s first impression was of space. The rooms were large and contained massive pieces of old, dark furniture. The high ceilings made her feel dwarfed.

“I feel like the Incredible Shrinking Freshman,” she told Linda, who giggled nervously as they entered the library with its floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. “Our entire apartment back home would easily fit into this room. No wonder this place is used as a dorm.”

Her second impression was of darkness and gloom. Although the house was immaculate, the hardwood floors smooth and shiny with polish, every window was completely draped with heavy fabrics: gold in the dining room, maroon in the living room and library. Hardly any natural light crept in. The first floor of Nightingale Hall was as dark as a cave.

“I hope those drapes open,” Jess said, frowning at the windows. She liked sunshine and light. Adjusting to this gloomy old place would be hard.

Cath pursed her lips disapprovingly at Jess’s comment. “I don’t think we should touch the drapes. Not until Mrs. Coates gets here.”

She’s nervous, Jess thought. She’s afraid of getting into trouble. Hasn’t she ever been in trouble before? Never got caught cutting a class or staying out too late or forgetting a school assignment? Weird.

“Relax,” Jess said, “I won’t touch the drapes, I promise. Not yet, anyway. We’ll have to convince our housemother that we need lots of light or we’ll get all pale and shriveled, like dying plants.”

Ian grinned at her. “I can’t picture
you
all pale and shriveled.”

It sounded like a compliment. He probably expected a grateful smile in return.

Well, why not? It wasn’t as if she had been deluged with compliments all summer. She’d been too busy working to pay any attention to the boys who came into the mall. College was incredibly expensive and her scholarship didn’t cover everything.

But she’d
made
enough money and now she was
here,
so if someone was willing to compliment her, she was more than willing to listen.

She smiled back at Ian.

“Nice smile,” he said as they entered the long, narrow kitchen situated at the rear of the house.

The room was large, spotlessly clean and, thanks to a half-wall of windows above the sink and dishwasher, brighter than the rest of the house. The windows overlooked the back slope leading down into a thick, wooded area and, Ian told her, the stream.

Leaving the kitchen, they all trooped upstairs to check out their rooms.

Jess was pleasantly surprised by hers. This isn’t half-bad, she thought as she swung open the door bearing a small name-tag reading
JESSICA VOGT.
She stood in the doorway, smiling with pleasure. The room was small, but bright and sunny. The walls were papered in a dainty lilac-flowered print, the bed covered with a vivid purple spread, topped with a folded, flowered quilt. A pretty wooden desk and chair sat between a pair of tall, narrow windows framed by sheer white curtains. A squat, fat chest of drawers of dark wood sat along one wall, waiting for Jess’s clothing.

The room smelled of lemon, and of fresh air, wafting in through the open windows.

“This is really pretty,” she murmured to herself, “and it’s all
mine
!” She had never had a room of her own before.

But as she stepped across the threshold, a suitcase weighing down each hand, she was met by a wave of air so cold it took her breath away. The unexpected chill wrapped itself around her, penetrating her thin T-shirt, her shorts, and heading straight for her bones.

Jess gasped in shock. She felt as if she’d been doused with ice water.

She took an involuntary step backward. The air in the hall was warm. Puzzled, she basked in the welcome warmth for only a minute. Then, thinking she must have imagined the chill, she re-entered the room.

But the chill was still there. She hadn’t imagined it.

She stayed where she was, a look of confusion on her face. Where was that cool air coming from? The windows were open, but she knew the air outside wasn’t cold. Unless a sudden cold front had moved in.

Dropping the suitcases and hugging herself for warmth, Jess moved to one of the open windows and thrust a bare arm forward. The air that touched her skin was still mild, caressing it with no hint of chill.

But inside her room …

She turned again to face her new home. She took a step away from the window, then another …

There was nothing imaginary about the cool air that descended upon her the moment she left the window. With her arms still wrapped around her chest, she sat down on the bed.

Maybe there was something about old houses … isolated pockets of cold air? She could ask Trucker. He might know. Or … hadn’t there been a fireplace in the living room? The chimney should be right about … Jess stood up, pacing off steps … right about here! Inside her closet. Probably right behind her closet wall. If the chimney went all the way down to a cellar, what she was feeling was probably cold cellar air leaking into her room from loose chimney bricks.

Jess went back to the bed, shrugging. So she’d wear sweaters. The room was too pretty, and the privacy, after sharing a room with two sisters, was too welcome to be upset over a little thing like a slight chill in the air. If she’d moved into a dorm on campus, she would have had to share.

When she had finished unpacking, Jess wandered down the dark, narrow hall to see how her new housemates were doing.

T
HE DOORS TO ALL
the rooms were standing open. Cath was unpacking what seemed to Jess an endless supply of sweaters, Linda had already appropriated one of the two bathrooms, and Jon, fresh from a shower, was primping in front of his dresser mirror.

He won’t be here long, Jess thought, watching with amusement as Jon coaxed a wheat-colored wave into place on his forehead. He’ll pledge a fraternity and move into a frat house on campus. Maybe somebody with a little more depth than a bed sheet will take his place.

“I was thinking about a little get-acquainted party on the porch tonight,” she suggested when he turned and saw her standing in the doorway. “Interested?” She was sure he’d dismiss it as being dull.

He surprised her by agreeing enthusiastically. “Cath’ll be there, right?” he asked.

Jess grinned. So, he’d already switched his attention from Jess to Cath. No surprise there. The petite type with tons of hair would appeal to him. But would
he
appeal to Cath? She seemed so … withdrawn. Not at all outgoing like Jon.

It would be interesting to see what, if anything, developed between them.

Ian, a towel over his shoulder, approached from the opposite end of the hall.

“How’s your room?” Jess asked.

He shrugged. “A room’s a room. Four walls, a ceiling … what more could anyone ask for?” He grinned. She noticed a tiny space between his upper front teeth, and thought it was cute. “I told you, I’m just here for the fishing.”

“So, are you fishing tonight, or do you feel up to a little party on the front porch? We could talk a little bit about how things should work around here, and get to know each other. What do you think?”

“I think, fine. Anyone else interested?”

“Just Jon, so far. I haven’t checked with the others yet. I was just about to see if I could drag Linda out of the bathroom.”

Linda was delighted with the idea of a porch party. “A party already? Great! I can find out more about Milo. Don’t you think he’s really cute?”

Jess agreed that Milo was “really cute” but privately thought that “finding out more about Milo” would be more challenging to Linda-the-swimmer than trying to take seven gold medals in the Olympics. The way he’d dived back into his book after their introductions this afternoon told her he was probably either painfully shy or seriously antisocial, or a combination of both.

“What’ll we eat?” Linda asked.

“Pizza, what else?” Jess answered. She began leafing through the telephone book on the small table in the upstairs hall, which also held a phone. “There has to be a pizza place that delivers. It’s un-American not to have at least one.”

The town of Twin Falls wasn’t un-American. It had several pizza restaurants that delivered and, Jess noticed as she flicked through the telephone book, a bowling alley, a movie theater, and half a dozen restaurants that, judging by the upbeat ads in the yellow pages, catered to the college crowd. One in particular, a diner called Burgers Etc. had a picture of the university’s administration building in its ad.

That done, Jess went back downstairs to await the arrival of their housemother and make sure their get-acquainted party was okay with her.

Mrs. Coates, an elderly woman with graying hair, her ample girth enveloped in a worn but garish green-and-orange print dress, had no objection to the party. “Might as well get to know each other right off the bat. My kids always end up being good friends. Hate to leave each other when summer comes.”

Her round, wrinkled face suddenly clouded over, as if a painful memory had just crossed her mind. She turned away from Jess. “Go ahead and have your party,” she said over her shoulder. “Long as you clean up any mess.”

“We will.” Mrs. Coates, Jess decided as she left the kitchen, must miss the kids who moved on after graduation. That would explain the sudden sadness in her face.

The party got off to a good start. The evening was warm, almost balmy, and it was quiet and peaceful on the hill. An intermittent hum sounded from the highway below as an occasional car passed, but the birds had quieted down for the night. Jess had borrowed a dozen fat, stubby candles from Mrs. Coates and stuck them in clay flowerpots Trucker had brought from the potting shed behind the house. They were scattered about the large porch, the candle glow providing a soft, pale illumination.

The pizza wasn’t very good, but no one seemed to care. They talked about why they had chosen Nightingale Hall over on-campus dorms. Finances had decided everyone but Jon and Cath. Linda and Ian had athletic scholarships that failed to cover room and board, Linda’s for swimming, Ian’s for baseball.

“It would be lots more convenient living on campus,” Linda admitted, wiping tomato sauce from her mouth with a paper napkin. “I’d be closer to the pool. But my folks couldn’t swing the room and board on campus. So here I am!” She beamed at Milo, who ignored her.

But his expression brightened when Ian and Trucker mentioned the stream in the woods behind the house. “No kidding? That’s great! I’ve written some of my best poetry while I was sitting on a riverbank, fishing.” He smiled at Ian, and Jess was surprised at how Milo’s thin, pale face warmed when he smiled. “Man,” Milo added, “you’ve made my day!”

“Well, I’m just glad you’re happy,” Cath said sourly. “Personally, I
hate
old houses. They give me the creeps.” She pushed a thick clump of wiry black hair behind one ear. “I’m here because my parents decided living off-campus would be less distracting.” She made a face of distaste. “Meaning I wouldn’t have any
fun.
Not that I’d know fun if it walked up and bit me.” Her voice took on a cool, haughty tone as she quoted: “‘The object of education is to educate, not to entertain.’” She laughed harshly. “
That
is my father speaking, and trust me, he meant every word of it. If I hadn’t known that before I saw this place, I certainly knew it when he dropped me off this afternoon.”

“Oh, I
love
old houses,” Linda gushed. “That’s why I’m planning to major in design. I want to remodel old houses, reclaim them. They have so much history.”