Cicada Song

  Chapter 4

  August 1989

  The mid-August humidity clung to Jacob as he crept between two parked cars and stepped out onto the yard. The church’s single light pole illuminated most of the parking lot, but Jacob could circle the church unnoticed as long as he stayed in the grass. No one expected to find him at church, anyhow. He should have been home; at least, that’s where his mother expected him to be. She didn’t think he was ready for what was happening tonight, but he couldn’t let Sara face it alone. He just couldn’t.

  With everyone inside, Jacob cautiously made his way to the back staircase and up onto the wooden porch that circled the building. Finding himself alone, he quietly rounded a corner to the back half of the church where the nearest window looked out at the wall of trees just beyond the porch itself. He crept the last few feet until his nose rested on the windowsill. The sanctuary was warm with candlelight, but what he saw inside broke his heart.

  Sara stood beside her mother, both dressed in black, and greeted various town members as they passed by with hugs and whispers. Ms. Beverly had a veil over her face, but Jacob paid her no mind. His eyes were trained on Sara. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her hands were tightly grasped to keep from shaking. Beside Sara and Ms. Beverly was the casket where Mr. Campbell—Sara’s father—now rested. He had been sick since February, but Jacob never expected his second grade teacher to die. He was such a fun teacher, and Jacob always felt special being in Mr. Campbell’s class. He wished he could see Mr. Campbell now but his angle was wrong, so his gaze remained fixed on the reason he had disobeyed his mother.

  He hated seeing Sara upset like this and wished he could make her laugh. He spied Stan in a pew near Sara, his eyes staring unblinkingly at the casket. Jacob had never felt so helpless.

  “Pretty crazy, huh?”

  Jacob whipped around and found Phil Guthrie looking over his shoulder at the casket.

  “Don’t tell my mom!” Jacob instinctively pleaded.

  Phil eyed him for a moment before grinning. “Snuck out too, huh? Yeah, I wanted to see the body. Not every day the kids get one over on the teacher.”

  “What do you mean?” Jacob asked.

  Phil laughed loud enough to get them caught. “Oh, come on. He’s just a teacher. Mr. Campbell got me in trouble plenty of times, and I’m glad he’s gone. I thought about teepeein’ his house but I’d probably get in trouble.”

  “How can you say that?” Jacob asked angrily, facing the much larger student. “Mr. Campbell was a great teacher. He was nice, and he’s Sara’s dad.”

  “Was Sara’s dad.”

  Without thinking, Jacob lunged at Phil and swung his fists wildly, landing more blows than not. Phil flipped Jacob over, however, and the fight continued until a pair of hands lifted them both into the air.

  “This is a visitation!” came Stanley Cromwell Sr.’s stern voice.

  “He’s glad Mr. Campbell died,” Jacob blurted out.

  “No, I ain’t!” Phil lied.

  “Where are your parents?”

  With no answers given, Stanley Sr. led them into the church and plopped them into the nearest pew, demanding that they remain silent. Phil grunted and slid into the corner, propping his feet up on the pew and kicking Jacob in the process, but Phil was the least of Jacob’s worries. He felt guilty for having disrupted Mr. Campbell’s visitation and could feel Sara and Ms. Beverly’s eyes on him. He kept his eyes lowered due to this but eventually glanced toward the casket. He found Sara looking at him. There was no smile, only two sad green eyes mostly hidden behind redness and tears.

  Without regard to Stanley Sr.’s orders, he stood and slowly made his way toward her. He was distracted, however, when he reached the casket and received his first glance of Mr. Campbell. Jacob’s heart raced. It was obviously Mr. Campbell in the casket, but something about him didn’t look quite right. He was pale, and his skin was too pasty. Jacob swore he could see the man’s chest moving; up and down, up and down. He was about to scream when a soft hand touched his shoulder. Pulling softly at his chin, Jacob found himself staring into Ms. Beverly’s blurred but caring eyes.

  “It’s okay, Jacob.”

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Beverly,” he said in an unexpectedly broken voice.

  Ms. Beverly knelt and hugged him. Then, without words, she guided him toward Sara, who stared through numb eyes. Jacob took her hand while trying to maintain control of himself. She watched him a moment and then leaned into his shoulder, her own tears beginning to fall again. He clung to Sara, unfamiliar with the grief racking his mind, and refused to let her go—even after Stanley Sr. returned with Jacob’s mother in tow. His mother, however, simply thanked Stanley Sr. and slid into a pew. She understood.

  Jacob hugged Sara softly as Ms. Beverly asked him to help her find a seat. They reached the pew beside Stan, and though it took their friend a moment to notice them, he eventually forced a smile and slid in close, putting his arm around Sara as well.