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The night was almost endless as Virginia raced down the sidewalks. Each turn, each tree was committed to memory as she had walked that same path years before that dark and looming evening. Her fingers were stained, ranging from blue to yellow yet she thought of herself to be red-handed.
The gates creaked under her feathery touch. She carefully tucked her purse under her arm to silence the cacophony of clinking inside. A sudden whining and panting made her furrow her brows.
"Brownie, move!" she groaned quietly as the dog trotted up to her. She smiled as its wet nose prodded around her hands and pockets, hoping for a morsel of food she usually snuck it around dinnertime... which was seven hours ago when she glanced at Darry's watch.
Mustering up some leftover courage, Virginia gently nudged Brownie the other way and raced up the porch steps. Her touch on the doorknob was gentle like brushstrokes and the beating of her heart. Inside, the lights were mostly off except for the gentle glow coming from a side table lamp. The couches were empty and she saw an imprint on one of the cushions. It was silent. Her eyes darted to the faint outline of the staircase extending from the attic hatch and then suddenly to a shift in the shadows and the light treading of feet.
"Bluebell?"
She inhaled sharply, shutting her eyes when Darry's voice broke the silence. She turned around slowly, remembering to slowly slip her paint-stained fingers into her pockets before he could see. The light from the lamp made him squint his tired eyes but his frown was solid like stone.
"It's almost four in the morning," he muttered, exasperated. "Where the hell have you been?"
"Project for the newspaper. It was my rotation," she lied, trying to keep her fast-paced breaths convincingly steady. "We were just about done but there was just the smallest change I wanted to make."
Darry's concern fell. His brow was raised and he ran a face down his face. "Go to bed. I'll call the school so you can stay home 'fore you get sick from—"
"It wasn't a silly adventure, Darry," Virginia interrupted, a knowing but soft smile on her face. "I'll go to bed." Her feet carried her up the creaky stairs, her hands clutching her bag close to her body.
It felt like a gust of sweet relief calmed her down as soon as the door shut behind her. Her eyes sleepily opened and closed with fatigue and she hardly took a moment after tucking her bag under her desk to change her clothes before high onto the bed. Her sore muscles and aching feet sunk into the clean quilt she laid on the mattress the night before and she inhaled the scent of laundry soap and cigarette smoke. She rolled onto her side, her eyes glued to the outline of her ceiling mural she never got to finish. But her mind was only repeating four things:
Classrooms, the church, Duke's Convenience, the Dingo.
She was fortunate to have enough printing ink in store to deliver an ample amount of newspapers to each of the prime locations where her voice was going to ring louder than a bell. Her eyes slowly shut close, the thrill of the morning becoming a closer and closer phenomenon.
