The Motif

Chapter 4

Mr. Carcharan stepped into the office a few minutes later.

"Your parents have been contacted and will be here shortly," the principal said, quietly, as he sat down behind his desk. "The police of course wish to speak with you, and the paramedics will probably want to check you out also, but not until after your parents are here."

Rachel nodded. She wasn't looking forward to her parents, the police, or the paramedics, but she knew that all were inevitable confrontations which would have to be met.

"You may or may not be relieved to know that Gregory did not survive the attack," Mr. Carcharan continued.

Relief was not the word Rachel would have chosen. The attack, while obviously traumatic, had come completely out of nowhere and it was clear that Greg was not in his right mind. As much as he had turned her life upside down, she could not find it in herself to be grateful that he was dead. But, considering there really wasn't a word to describe her jumbled mass of conflicting emotions regarding her would-be-killer, she decided "relief" probably was as close as she could get.

"He did injure one other student in his attempt, Grace Swanson," Mr. Carcharan continued, "but her injuries appear to be minor. The paramedics are checking on her right now. It appears as if the bullet fortunately just grazed her shoulder."

This, at least, she could be relieved about. She didn't know if she'd be able to live with herself if the bullet that was meant for her had claimed the life of another.

"I'm not going to ask you anymore questions now, because I know you'll be getting more of that than you need from the police and – quite likely – your parents. However, I would like to talk to Mr. Jarvis. Will you be okay by yourself for a few minutes? We'll be right outside the door if you need us."

Rachel nodded numbly. She wanted to be alone anyway, as she had initially told Mr. Jarvis.

"Fred, if you please," Mr. Carcharan said, rising from his seat and leading Mr. Jarvis out of the office.

Rachel sat and stared at the wall as Mr. Carcharan and Mr. Jarvis talked. She could hear the murmuring of their voices beyond the door but couldn't fully discern what was being said – and didn't particularly want to, anyway.

Rachel wasn't sure how long she sat there, staring at the wall, but her catatonic meditation was interrupted by Mr. Carcharan leading her parents into the office. Her mother, of course, was a completely distraught wreck and smothered Rachel with hugs and kisses, asking over and over if she was okay. Her father, on the other hand, stood in the corner and seemed to be doing everything he could to contain his anger that someone dared to threaten the life of his only daughter.

"Mom, I'm okay, will you get off me!" Rachel gasped, in between her mother's smothering.

"Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, will you please have a seat," Mr. Carcharan said, indicating the two chairs on either side of Rachel.

Reluctantly, Rachel's mom pried herself away from her daughter and sat down. Her father, fists still clenched, also took a seat and snapped, "What the hell happened today?"

"I apologize for the stress this undoubtedly caused you," Mr. Carcharan said placidly, hoping to calm the parents' state of agitation, "but thankfully the culprit was stopped. As you can see, Rachel walked away completely unharmed – physically, at least – there was one other student who was injured, but her injuries appear to be minor. The only casualty was the culprit himself, who was killed in a struggle that followed the attempted attack on your daughter."

"What the fuck is wrong with this school? Why are all of your students suddenly going crazy?"

"Harold!" Rachel's mom chided.