hoisted the backpack on her shoulder and headed for her room.
I sat there for a minute. I did believe that if that was indeed what Nathan had said, then he really was a little weasel who no doubt had trouble spelling his own name and wanted nothing more than to get Emily alone behind the bleachers. Or something like that. But it also bothered me that what was going on at home was having an effect on her at school. That wasn’t fair to her. High school and teenage-hood were hard enough without any extra wrinkles. Finding a dead body in your home when you lived in a small time was more than a small wrinkle. It was massive and I felt bad that it was going to make Emily’s classmates whisper about her. I didn’t want her to be known as the serial killer kid.
I thought about what had happened at co-op and how no one had signed up for my class. The other three kids hadn’t been ostracized during sign-ups but maybe that was just around the corner, too. I didn’t know if that would be waiting for us on the first day of co-op and I didn’t want to wait to find out.
I needed to figure out exactly how Olaf ended up in the coal chute. The sooner, the better.
EIGHTEEN
We tried to have a normal family evening.
Jake came home from work and, after a quick dinner of fish sticks and scalloped potatoes, he played a few quick games on the Wii with the younger three while I helped Emily wade through her history assignment. Once we were done, I flipped off the television and told each of the kids to go pick out a game. Our game collection rivaled that of any toy store and our kids had been conditioned to play games at night rather than park themselves in front of one mindless sitcom after another.
We let Emily exempt herself from game playing and she holed up in her room, probably texting or SnapChatting with one of her friends. I didn’t mind—after the day she’d had, she probably needed her friends at that moment more than her squabbling siblings. Games were taken very seriously in our household, especially by the three overly competitive younger kids. Jake and I spent the better part of the remaining evening hours refereeing and arbitrating multiple games. After Will claimed his third victory at Blokus, we finally herded them upstairs and into bed.
Jake and I followed shortly thereafter. Once in bed, huddled under the covers, I shared with him my day and what had happened with Emily at school. He was much more rational and much more matter-of-fact than I was, telling me that kids were going to be jerks no matter what and the sooner Em learned to deal with them, the better. He didn’t panic and he wasn’t worried that she’d be ostracized for the rest of her life.
Like I was.
So after he left the next morning for work and Emily was off to school and the other three kids were occupied with their reading for the morning, I spent some time on the Internet, trying to get a more definitive location on Olga Stunderson’s whereabouts.
I decided to start with her because she creeped me out less than Helen Stunderson did. I was still unnerved about our library confrontation and while I was curious about why she’d showed up there and why she’d clearly lied to me, I wasn’t so sure about confronting her on my own.
Olga, however, I’d already faced off with. And while it hadn’t gone well, she’d at least been honest with me. Even if she had been a bit…unhinged.
So I typed her name into the computer and after a few minutes down the Internet rabbit hole, I had her address. I told the kids I was headed to Wal-Mart, which was a surefire way to make sure they had zero interest in coming with me.
“Lock the door,” Will said as I grabbed my keys. He’d unearthed the cookie container and was shoving a whole one in his mouth.
“Why?”
He wiped the crumbs off his chin. “I don’t want any policemen coming in.”
“Policemen are good.”
He reached for another. “As far as you know. I don’t trust anyone
I sat there for a minute. I did believe that if that was indeed what Nathan had said, then he really was a little weasel who no doubt had trouble spelling his own name and wanted nothing more than to get Emily alone behind the bleachers. Or something like that. But it also bothered me that what was going on at home was having an effect on her at school. That wasn’t fair to her. High school and teenage-hood were hard enough without any extra wrinkles. Finding a dead body in your home when you lived in a small time was more than a small wrinkle. It was massive and I felt bad that it was going to make Emily’s classmates whisper about her. I didn’t want her to be known as the serial killer kid.
I thought about what had happened at co-op and how no one had signed up for my class. The other three kids hadn’t been ostracized during sign-ups but maybe that was just around the corner, too. I didn’t know if that would be waiting for us on the first day of co-op and I didn’t want to wait to find out.
I needed to figure out exactly how Olaf ended up in the coal chute. The sooner, the better.
EIGHTEEN
We tried to have a normal family evening.
Jake came home from work and, after a quick dinner of fish sticks and scalloped potatoes, he played a few quick games on the Wii with the younger three while I helped Emily wade through her history assignment. Once we were done, I flipped off the television and told each of the kids to go pick out a game. Our game collection rivaled that of any toy store and our kids had been conditioned to play games at night rather than park themselves in front of one mindless sitcom after another.
We let Emily exempt herself from game playing and she holed up in her room, probably texting or SnapChatting with one of her friends. I didn’t mind—after the day she’d had, she probably needed her friends at that moment more than her squabbling siblings. Games were taken very seriously in our household, especially by the three overly competitive younger kids. Jake and I spent the better part of the remaining evening hours refereeing and arbitrating multiple games. After Will claimed his third victory at Blokus, we finally herded them upstairs and into bed.
Jake and I followed shortly thereafter. Once in bed, huddled under the covers, I shared with him my day and what had happened with Emily at school. He was much more rational and much more matter-of-fact than I was, telling me that kids were going to be jerks no matter what and the sooner Em learned to deal with them, the better. He didn’t panic and he wasn’t worried that she’d be ostracized for the rest of her life.
Like I was.
So after he left the next morning for work and Emily was off to school and the other three kids were occupied with their reading for the morning, I spent some time on the Internet, trying to get a more definitive location on Olga Stunderson’s whereabouts.
I decided to start with her because she creeped me out less than Helen Stunderson did. I was still unnerved about our library confrontation and while I was curious about why she’d showed up there and why she’d clearly lied to me, I wasn’t so sure about confronting her on my own.
Olga, however, I’d already faced off with. And while it hadn’t gone well, she’d at least been honest with me. Even if she had been a bit…unhinged.
So I typed her name into the computer and after a few minutes down the Internet rabbit hole, I had her address. I told the kids I was headed to Wal-Mart, which was a surefire way to make sure they had zero interest in coming with me.
“Lock the door,” Will said as I grabbed my keys. He’d unearthed the cookie container and was shoving a whole one in his mouth.
“Why?”
He wiped the crumbs off his chin. “I don’t want any policemen coming in.”
“Policemen are good.”
He reached for another. “As far as you know. I don’t trust anyone
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