Raven (Orphans 4) - Page 40

"Don't worry," I said. "I won't get down in the mud with you."

She smiled, crooked and mean.

I left her and returned to my table, frustrated, raging, my anger simmering my blood into a rolling boil.

"Easy," Terri said, putting her hand on my arm and nodding toward the rear. Mr. Wizenberg had come up right behind me. He rocked on his heels a moment with his hands behind his back, and then he glared a stern warning at me as he continued across the cafeteria.

"Everyone thinks I'm the cause of trouble here," I moaned. "It's not fair."

"She'll get hers," Terri predicted. "Someday?'

For now, that had to be how I would leave it. I went to my classes after lunch, the rest of the day moving more quickly. I was relieved when the last bell rang and we headed for the buses to go home. This time, when I boarded the bus, I hesitated. I knew if I sat with Clarence, Jennifer and her friends would make more fun of him. It was for his benefit that I passed him by. He looked up at me with sad eyes. I tried to smile to indicate it was better I didn't sit next to him today. He seemed to understand, and I moved deeper into the bus, finding an empty seat. No one sat beside me.

We started for home. At first, there was just the usual sound of chatter and hilarity, but suddenly, there was a shrill laugh I recognized as Jennifer's. I turned just as she and her friends began their chanting.

"I la . . la . . la . . . love you, Ray . . . Ray . . Raven?'

A sea of laughter swept over the bus. Everyone was smiling, and soon everyone was into the chant. The bus driver looked confused, a silly smile on her lips. She was a stout woman named Peggy Morris with hair chopped short about her ears. She wore flannel shirts and jeans and had the sleeves of her shirt rolled to the elbows. Despite her tough appearance, I always found her pleasant and friendly.

I looked at Clarence. He slapped his hands over his ears and rocked in his seat.

"Stop it!" I shouted, which only brought more laughter. "You idiots. Stop!"

They chanted louder. I was hoping Peggy Morris would do something, but she was too involved with a car that was slowing and speeding erratically in front of us.

Suddenly, Clarence shot up from his seat and screamed like a wounded animal. His voice reverberated through the bus, but instead of bringing the chanting to a halt, it drew more laughter and then louder chanting. Clarence covered his ears. I was yelling for them to stop, too. It all sounded like bedlam, like a bus filled with insane people. Peggy had just started to turn, slowing the bus down, when Clarence surprised everyone by deliberately smashing his fist against the window. The first slam brought the chanting to a halt. I could barely utter a sound, my throat choking up.

"Clarence!," I managed, but he did it again, harder this time, and the glass shattered.

He stood there, the blood streaming down the side of his arm. Girls screamed. Even some of the boys cried out. Peggy Morris jammed her foot on the brakes and pulled the bus to the side just as Clarence fell backward. She caught him before he rolled over the railing and onto the bus steps.

Everyone grew deadly quiet. I made my way down the aisle. Peggy shouted for me to hand her the first aid kit, and I hurried to do so. She opened it and pressed a fistful of gauze against Clarence's hand and arm. Then she looked up at me.

"Go out and get to a phone," she said. "Call for an ambulance. Quickly!"

When she opened the door, I shot down the steps and into a convenience store on the corner. The man behind the counter called 911 for me, and I returned to the bus. Everyone remained subdued, even Jennifer. The driver did the best she could to stem the flow of blood. Clarence lay there with his eyes closed. What seemed like an hour but was only minutes passed before we heard the sound of an ambulance followed by a police car. Chatter began again as the paramedics boarded the bus quickly, heard what had happened, and tended to Clarence. Moments later, they were carrying him off the bus on a stretcher. As soon as he was placed in the ambulance, Peggy Morris returned and stood with her hands on her wide hips, glaring angrily at everyone, her face still pale from the shock and excitement.

"I don't want to hear another peep," she said shakily. "Not another peep."

She started up the bus, and we rode to our stops in funereal silence. My heart was thumping. I had a revolting nausea whirling in my stomach. When our stop appeared, I rose and walked slowly down the steps.

"Thanks for your help," Peggy Morris said. I nodded and got off.

As I started up the sidewalk, Jennifer whipped past me, pausing only to say, "You have only yourself to blame."

It took every ounce of restraint to keep from rushing up behind her to seize the back of her hair and pull out every strand as I kicked and pummeled her sneering, ugly face. But I knew I could never sink to her level, no matter what. I would never be that evil.

Uncle Reuben knew about Clarence before he came home that night. Clarence's stepfather had been called at work and had to rush over to the hospital. Uncle Reuben didn't know any of the details, but I saw from the way he looked at me when he asked questions that he assumed I had something to do with it.

"What happened?" he began.

"Clarence went nuts," Jennifer said.

"Why?"

"The kids were teasing him, and he went nuts. He's nuts anyway," she said.

"What do you mean, they were teasing him? How were they teasing him?"

Tags: V.C. Andrews Orphans
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