III Meditations
New Liberty High School had an assembly and then started the overwhelming process of talking to all of the students.
The teachers, school counselors, and doctors needed to talk to every one of them at length.
The teachers and doctors wanted to do something to help Lance and remember Lance, and didn’t know what to do.
They decided to talk to everyone and then have a presentation about integrity and suicide prevention.
Caitlyn walked up to the table and kissed Ai on the lips, sat down next to her, and began to read a book on her Kindle.
“I can’t wait to finish this book,” Caitlyn said. “Can these crazy teenagers catch the murderer?”
“I can only guess,” Ai said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Caitlyn asked.
“That they will solve the murder and it will end happily,” Ai said. “Books - like the ones you are reading – have safe and easy happy endings. Don’t worry about it. It’s fake scary. The main characters are safe. The good guys will win. Nothing to worry about.”
“I disagree,” Caitlyn said. ”You are too arrogant. You will get something wrong once, and you will be very sad that the rest of us were right and you were wrong.”
“2054," Ai said. “That’s when I predict I will get one wrong.”
“Don’t be a bitch, Ai,” Caitlyn said. “And you have that presentation. For honors society.”
“I prepared for it,” Ai said. “It took me a few minutes. I did it in my head. It will go fine.”
“Good,” Caitlyn said. “You seem more and more like you have everything handled. Are you sure?”
“Hmm? Just busy. Thinking.”
Jalon walked up to them.
“Sit, sit,” Ai said. “Pokemon advice, please.”
“I wouldn’t dream of giving you advice,” Jalon said. “The best decks draw a lot of cards and build upon themselves and then have a mechanic for killing the opponent.”
“So you wouldn’t dream of giving advice, and then you give me advice?” Ai asked. “Smart advice, though. I want the fire breathing. I want Charizard.”
“Okay,” Jalon said. “He’s a handful for enemies if you can bring him out.”
“I need the card-drawing to support bringing out Charizard and killing people with him,” Ai said.
“Let’s get to work,” Jalon said. “The tournament is in a month or so?” “Yeah,” Ai said. "If we are still alive, we can play. I am sorry that Lance can’t play. He would have loved it.”
“He would have lost most of his games,” Jalon said.
“So? He would have enjoyed himself and been his wonderful self,” Ai said.
“I don’t know,” Jalon said. “I have his deck. I keep it on me at all times.” “I’m sorry,” Ai said.
“Nonsense,” Jalon said. “He would want us to live life to the fullest. Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we’ll die, like the song says. Let’s listen to that song. Sound good?”
“Sounds good,” Ai said.
“Ai, we’re really smart. Why don’t we win these tournaments?”
“I don’t know,” Ai said. “It doesn’t make sense, right? I am the smart person. I’m super smart. I should win every strategy game. I should tell people, right? At the start of every game. That I’m super smart and should win.”
“That sounds like a terrible idea,” Jalon said.
“You know what, maybe I’ll just accept being in the middle of Pokémon and getting all A’s?” Ai said.
“Sounds good,” Jalon said. “All those fucking Pokémon, wandering around, hiding, running, being impossible to catch.”
“Exactly,” Ai said.
Before school, Beatrice and Ghostkin received a text telling them to see Rose Sanchez. Rose Sanchez, a guidance counselor, helped troubled students who struggled with school and their lives.
Beatrice wore all black. Ghostkin wore a black dress shirt, gray pants, a black leather belt, and leather boots. They walked into the psychologist’s office together.
Beatrice didn’t want to go to school. She made herself go - to continue life, to pretend that she was able to handle it, to pretend that she was dealing with it correctly. She wanted to remember everything about her father. She wanted him to live on in her for many years.
Rose Sanchez waved them in.
She was a fifty-something woman with barely any non-gray hair and a skinny, bony old body. She looked frail and like she was trying to stay fiery despite a body that was failing her. She had a clean office, everything well-presented.
“Beatrice, I’m sorry. Losing a parent is a terrible experience. You are young and life hasn’t taught you yet that it can kick your ass whenever it wants.” She drank from a zero-sugar cola.
“It hasn’t kicked my ass yet,” Beatrice said.
“I will continue to fight for everything that I can get in life. I’m fighting against the killer and against all the people who pretend to care this week, who usually don’t give me anything.
I’m fighting back. He failed to kill me once. I’d like to see him try again.”
“Most of these people want to help you,” Rose said.
“I’m sorry if it’s corny or you disagree.
I believe in most people. I think that they matter.
I think that most people are wonderful and good.
I also believe that this life that we are given has terrible tragedies that happen on a regular basis and that a few people ruin it for the rest of us.
Most of those normal people? They want to care.
They have mostly lost people themselves.
People die. Everyone, eventually, if you want to know the truth. ”
“You’re a very strange psychologist,” Beatrice said.
“I don’t operate like normal psychologists,” Rose said.
“Beatrice, you need to understand, everyone dies, and you will remember and love and cherish him. Some sort of religion might be right. Someone might invent resurrection in the far future. There are several conceivable ways in which he can come back or not be forgotten. He is not gone forever. His actions changed reality for the better, shaped who you are. That affects reality in a positive way going forward.”
“Thank you for the attempt at comfort,” Beatrice said.
“Nothing can comfort you right now. I’m just trying to tell you the truth in a truthful way that is still meaningful and productive,” Rose said.
“Someone murdered your dad and also Lance Grey. Lance was a young man who talked to me a bunch of times, was a student that I liked and cared for more than a little bit. And now they are dead, and I’m very upset about that.
I liked Lance a lot. He was working with me.
” “He was normal,” Beatrice said. “And by normal, I mean insane and angry with life and loving strategy games and geek culture and trying to embrace the weirdness in life.”
“We played board games with Lance last Tuesday,” Ghostkin said. “We got together and ordered burgers and fries and sodas with caffeine and played a worker-placement game that was very popular almost thirty years ago that got reprinted.”
“Oh,” Rose said. “Is this a normal Tuesday night for you guys?”
“Yes,” Ghostkin said.
“And you call yourself Ghostkin?” Rose asked.
“I associate myself with the weird and strange and occult,” Ghostkin said.
“Good,” Rose said. “Let’s figure out if there’s any useful information we can give the cop on the case. Her name’s Anne. She’s a good person.”
“Thank you,” Ghostkin said.
“Did he talk to you?” Rose asked. “The killer.”
“Yes,” Beatrice said. “The killer talked to me.”
“What did he say?” Rose asked.
“Sorry,” Beatrice said. “He said he was sorry and that there was no reason for murdering my dad. I suspect he will target the rest of the clique.”
“We will do everything possible to protect the rest of your clique,” Rose said.
“Right now they are saying that Lance killed himself, but Anne privately texted me that she believes you that there is a killer and that he probably killed Lance. We believe you that there is a killer out there. We want to help stop him.”
“He is a terrible and powerful villain.”
“You sound like you admire the Wolf Killer,” Beatrice said.
“No,” Rose said. “Admire? No. I want someone to stop him. I’m just amazed that someone is hurting these students. My students. I’m sad and angry and don’t know what to do about it. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you for trying to help, and for believing in me,” Beatrice said. “I have to go. Class.”
“I will write both of you a pass. And I do believe in both of you.”
Beatrice and Ghostkin were given passes for first period to be there a little late; they smiled and kissed. It was a kiss that said that they still loved each other despite being together for a long time.
Rose sent messages to a dozen students who were geeks or smart that they may be targets.
She warned Ai Takeda about the possibility of getting murdered and worried that the girl sent a text back saying that the concern was noted, but she had things to do.
Rose didn’t know what Ai had to do that was more important than avoiding a serial killer and questioned the girl’s sanity.
She asked repeatedly what Ai’s plan to stay alive was and was not given a sufficient answer.
Someone walked into Rose’s office. He was a twenty-something man, Japanese, wearing an expensive business suit. He was six feet tall and carried a black briefcase.
“Hello,” he said. “I am glad to talk to you. I represent Ai Takeda. Rose, Ai wants to express to you her sadness at these murders.” “But she can’t show up?
” Rose asked. “Why can’t she show up to talk to me?
She has to show up to talk to me. She is not above the rules because her dad owns and runs the town. ”
“No,” he said. “I’m Shoji. I represent her.
I want to know what you need from her people.
A plan to keep her safe? We have a bodyguard watching her at all times and a police officer checking in with her several times a day.
She checks in with us on the hour when we don’t know what she is doing or where she is.
She is not showing up because she is busy.
Understand?” Rose nodded. “The other students - do they get this?” she asked.
“I cannot speak for that,” Shoji said.