Page 75 of Waysider
The chalkboard was right where she’d found it last time.
It stood in a patch of faded moonlight. For a moment, Cass could only hover at the other end of the room and stare. A whisper of trepidation crept through her bones. It had been so long since she’d come up here for the scavenger hunt. What if the revenant didn’t remember her? What if it tried to demand something in return for its help tonight?
No one had erased the things she and Louis had written. Cass reread their conversation, starting with the first question she’d asked. What is your name? Finch had mentioned that professors were studying it, and graduated voyants were even making special trips to campus for proof that the infamous chalkboard revenant had given up his name.
Cass slowly crossed the room. She walked toe to heel, instinctively distributing her weight to make as little sound as possible. Cass wasn’t afraid, exactly, but knowing a revenant was nearby made her entire body feel like an electric current. She could hear her heartbeat and feel the goosebumps prickling over her skin. Once she was close enough, Cass picked up the eraser and ran it over the chalkboard without hesitation, swiping again and again until there was nothing left but white streaks. The professors would have a field day, no doubt, but Cass didn’t really care. She had bigger fish to fry. She grasped a piece of chalk and set the tip near the top. She took a steadying breath, then forced herself to write.
Are you there? she asked. As an afterthought she added, This is Cass.
She stood back and waited, her eyes glued to the other pieces of chalk on the ledge. But none of them moved. Cass waited another beat, hesitating. She raised her gaze to the chalkboard and said, “Louis, I need to talk to you. Please answer.”
Another handful of seconds passed. Cass’s pulse leaped when one of the pieces of chalk moved, and Louis’s elegant handwriting began to appear. What do you want?
Cass’s hand trembled as she wrote, To help Karen Watkins.
You mean you want to untether her, Louis corrected. There was no way to hear his tone of voice, but Cass couldn’t help feeling there was an edge of tension in it.
She didn’t want to argue, so she kept her response simple. Yes.
Are you sure that’s what she wants? the revenant countered.
Cass’s lips pursed. She rolled the piece of chalk between her fingers and considered his question. Louis waited patiently. After a moment, Cass scrawled her answer across the dusty surface.
I think she wants peace. Cass paused, staring at those words. For once, it felt like she had found the right ones. It felt like the truth. She readjusted her grip on the chalk and kept writing. Do you know anything about her death?
As if I’d make it that easy for you, Louis said.
It was exactly what he’d told her last time. Right, Cass thought, fighting a surge of annoyance. This revenant liked riddles and games. She stepped forward again. Okay, fine. What do you want?
Louis’s answer came within seconds, and afterward, his chalk landed back on the ledge with a click. A single word stared back at her. Sundays.
Cass frowned, rereading what the revenant had just written. She was still drawing a blank, and she was so confused that she finally said out loud, “What?”
The chalk rose again. I want your Sundays. Every week. Seven a.m.
Cass stared at his response. Out of everything he could have asked her for, she never would’ve guessed this. Cass’s brow furrowed. Maybe Louis was a lonely ghost, she mused. He had a strange way of making new friends, but who was she to talk? Back in grade school, Cass’s idea of befriending Teresa was tying her hair ribbon around the back of her desk chair, so she was stuck when everyone else stood. Luckily for her, Teresa thought it was funny.
Cass gave a mental shrug and started to agree to Louis’s stipulation, the tip of her chalk poised on the board. But she stood there for several seconds, unable to bring herself to do it. Cass realized that, before she made any kind of deal with this guy, there was something she needed to know. Her arm moved across the smooth, green surface as she wrote a new question.
Why did you tell me your name?
Cass moved back and searched the chalkboard as if it were his face. She murmured out loud, “Out of all the voyants who have tried talking to you, why am I the one you chose? I’m a nobody. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a good time, but still a nobody.”
The silence returned, and Louis’s chalk rested there, untouched. Maybe he hadn’t heard her—Cass still wasn’t totally clear on whether or not he could. Or maybe listening to her real voice forced him to expend more energy. She was just guessing at this point, really. Cass gave him a few more seconds, and she was about to raise her hand when Louis finally started writing again.
Ask me next Sunday, the revenant replied.
“Okay. Fine.” Cass ignored a flutter of unease. “Now it’s your turn. Do you know anything about Karen Watkins? Something that might help her? She’s been trying to communicate with me, but it’s so… jumbled. I’m only getting bits and pieces.”
You need to See.
“See what?” Cass asked sharply, frowning as she reread the words. Why had Louis capitalized it? Her mind turned it over like a Rubik’s Cube.
He was talking about the vials, she realized in a rush. That was how she was going to reach Karen again, and get the clear answers she needed. Honestly, Cass should’ve thought of it herself. But her excitement was immediately followed by the slow sink of realization. She had no way of actually obtaining any See.
“Great idea, but there’s just one problem,” Cass said with a frown. “That stuff is kept under lock and key, and no one but a professor or a TA has access.”
She thought of Teddy Crane and immediately dismissed the idea. He was the golden boy, and golden boys didn’t break rules. Cass didn’t even trust him not to narc if she asked him.
