Mrs. Q

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The clear glass globe hanging from the ceiling had a crack in it. Lester lay on his back, watching the small fly trapped inside buzz frantically about in circles. Periodically, it would bounce off the hot lightbulb, scorching its delicate wings in a vain attempt to find a way out of the luminescent prison. It never seemed to recall how it had found its way inside in the first place.

Lester's head hurt, and his mouth was dry. The last thing he remembered was standing on the ice with Amanda and Mae. As he came back to his senses, a jolt of panic shot through him. He quickly felt his hand, then checked his pockets. The ring was gone.

Sitting up, Lester instantly wished he hadn't. The pounding at his temples made him dizzy, causing his vision to bounce like an out-of-sync movie projector. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands and waited for things to clear as he attempted to examine his surroundings.

At first, he was sure he must be dreaming because it looked like he was lying on a cot in his Math classroom. The large black chalkboard on the wall still had last week's homework written on it, and the familiar testing clock loomed like an all-seeing eye from the corner of the polished desk. Even the smell was right. Though, if this was indeed his school, where was whoever had brought him here?

As if in answer to his question, the door to the hall opened, and in walked Mrs. Q.

"Ah, Mr. North, you're awake. Your friends will be relieved to hear it. No matter how much I assured them you were fine, they insisted on fretting needlessly by your side. Until I finally had to send them on an errand, just to get a moment's peace."

Lester watched her walk across the room and sit behind the desk. He was still unsure if he was awake.

"H-h-how?" he croaked, desperately in need of a glass of water.

"How did you get here?" asked Mrs. Q. "Well, it seems that after you slipped on the ice and banged your head, your friend Mae went to get help. She saw my light on and found me grading papers. Once I determined you were well enough to be moved, we brought you here. Then, as I said, I sent your friends away and have just returned from calling your parents."

Lester's heart skipped a beat. "My parents?"

"Yes," Mrs. Q said. "Unfortunately, I was unable to reach them and had to leave a message. How are you feeling now?"

"Fine," Lester lied. "In fact, I probably should be getting home."

"A sensible course of action," said Mrs. Q, returning to her papers.

Lester tried not to wince as he looked around for his sneakers. Everything ached. Including some muscles he didn't even know he had. And his mouth tasted like he'd been eating charcoal. Finally finding his shoes under the cot, he began putting them on.

"You know," Mrs. Q said, marking several red x's down the side of an exam Lester hoped wasn't his, "when I was your age, my friends and I used to get up to all sorts of shenanigans. I suppose it's only natural to push against one's boundaries and test a rule or two. Within reason, of course."

Lester paused. He wasn't sure which he found more shocking, the thought of Mrs. Q at his age or the fact that she had suggested it was acceptable to break rules. Why was she suddenly confiding in him about her childhood? Did she know they'd been doing more than just skating at the rink? He thought of the sculpture. Had she seen it when she'd gone to help Mae and Amanda?

"The great mistake most adults make," Mrs. Q went on, "is forgetting what it was like to be young. I know you think I'm unnecessarily hard on you, Lester. But, I do hope that if you find yourself in need of assistance again, you will come to me. As your teacher, my goal is your success."

"Sure," Lester said, getting to his feet. "I appreciate that."

Lester didn't know where this conversation was going and was eager to leave before it veered into questions he'd rather not answer. At least not until he'd had a chance to confer with Amanda and Mae. Plus, there was something eerie about the school building after dark. Unnaturally empty and quiet without the continuous hum of students wandering the halls, it felt like a ghost ship adrift on the ocean without its crew. Lester couldn't escape the feeling that if he stayed too long, he might end up walking the plank.

Quickly making his way to the door, he stumbled. His legs were still a bit shaky, and he reached out for support, accidentally knocking a pile of graded quizzes to the floor. Apologizing, Lester retrieved them and was about to put them back when he saw something that made his heart stop. There, perched on the edge of the desk, sat a well-worn copy of The Lesser Key, Solomon's book of demons.

"Are you quite sure you're alright, Mr. North?" Mrs. Q asked, giving him an appraising stare.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Lester said, careful to keep his voice even.

He finished stacking the last of the papers and got to his feet. Could Mrs. Q be part of The Light? Was that what she'd been hinting at? And if she was working for the other side, what would she do if she thought he suspected her?

Lester resisted the urge to run as he crossed the rest of the room. A few more steps and he'd be out in the hallway. Then he'd find Amanda and Mae and tell them they'd been right about Mrs. Q all along. There was no way the book was a coincidence.

Reaching the door, Lester grabbed the knob and breathed a sigh of relief. But as he pulled it open, Mrs. Q called after him.

"One moment, Mr. North. I can't let you leave just yet."

Lester's sore muscles tensed as he watched her get up from her desk and walk towards him, her right hand tucked behind her back.

"Oh?" he said nervously.

The still air of the classroom suddenly seemed overly warm, and Lester tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry. Should he make a run for it? She might possess some sort of elemental power, but he'd take his chances in an all-out footrace.

"I think you know what I'm about to ask," Mrs. Q said, now close enough for him to smell her perfume.

"I really don't," confessed Lester, with a forced laugh. He pushed his back against the door, trying to increase the distance between the two of them. This was it. She knew that he knew, and she was going to do away with him, here in the dark with no witnesses. With a sinking sensation, Lester realized he would die at school. And not just at school but in math class. Talk about adding insult to injury.

Mrs. Q thrust her arm forward, and Lester flinched.

"Would you do me the favor of returning this to Ms. Chase?" she asked.

"W-what?" said Lester. Trying not to seem too surprised that he was still alive, he looked down at Mrs. Q's outstretched hand and the copy of The Lesser Key of Solomon.

"She must have left it when we brought you here from the skating rink," Mrs. Q said. "I'd appreciate it if you'd return it to her."

"Yeah," said Lester, taking the book. "No problem."

"And I hope you won't forget what I said about help anytime. Not all solutions to life's challenges can be found in books. Some you have to work out for yourself. While others may simply resolve on their own, given enough time."

The crisp night air did wonders for Lester's head as he made his way home. And by the time he rounded the corner into his driveway, he'd concluded that it had been ridiculous to think Mrs. Q was a member of The Light. Amanda had been right. She'd lived in town for far too long. Besides, what evidence did they have that anyone from The Light had actually discovered Giles Hollow? Maybe Mathis was wrong. Were they jumping at shadows, seeing danger around every corner?

Thankful to find his house still empty, Lester erased the message Mrs. Q had left for his parents and took a sandwich and a glass of milk up to his room. He changed into his pajamas and hid Mae's book under his bed before he turned out the light.

As he drifted off, Lester thought about Mrs. Q's parting advice. Perhaps this problem wasn't something they needed to solve. Whatever it was between The Light and The Dark had been going on for hundreds of years. No matter what he and his friends did, it would probably go on for a hundred more. Mathis had walked away, and maybe they should too. They were just kids, after all.

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