Sarah Benadine is Dead

Chapter I, Part I

Part One

Sarah

August—November 1955

It rained the day the town of Clearwater held a memorial service for Sarah Benadine. Like the sky itself knew the town's pain, the heavens opened up and it rained so hard and heavy that some were wary of a flash flood. Some of the more superstitious regarded it as an omen for there to be rain today of all days, after a long, dry summer. The inclement weather didn't stunt the memorial attendance, however; the high school auditorium—added on just the year before—was filled past capacity. Most of the tiny town turned out to honor the beloved high school sweetheart.

The sound of thunder rumbled low and strong over the tremulous, almost uncertain voice of the high school principal. The room was uncomfortable, to say the least; the multitude of bodies coupled with the humidity outside created an atmosphere that was stifling. Loud, wet sobs broke through the air at what almost seemed to be fixed intervals. Tommy Keller, always the subject of nasty gossip and cruel insults because of his childlike disposition at nearly thirty years old, was sitting in the back next to his mother, crying harshly into a handkerchief. At the front, Andrea, Lance, and Norberta Benadine—mother, father, and sister—sat together, the first time the three of them had been in each other's company for so long since Andrea and Lance had separated nearly three years previous.

Splitting the distance between the Kellers and the Benadines, a young girl sat staring at her hands. Round-faced and skinny as a rail, with dark hair and sharp blue eyes, she was eleven year old Shannon Malone, Sarah Benadine's neighbor. Anxiously, she fidgeted where she was. The long black dress her mother had forced her to wear was not conducive to the heat, and she felt a discomfort that was completely unrelated to the temperature.

Shannon hadn't known Sarah well. As a rule, just about everyone in Clearwater knew each other, or so it seemed to the young kids in the town who were always under the watchful eye of someone who would be happy to report anything they'd been doing back to their parents. Because Sarah had been her neighbor, Shannon had been perhaps better acquainted with her than most other circumstances would've allowed, but a five year age difference prevented a truly close relationship. They had had unimportant conversation on occasion, but that was really the extent of it.

It was not Shannon's unfamiliarity with Sarah that caused her unease. Indeed, it was quite the opposite. Shannon was no stranger to death. Her grandfather had died when she was seven. She'd lost two goldfish, one to a little brother who had thought fish could fly. Plenty of stories had been passed around classrooms about friends, relatives, and pets that had passed away. But this was different. Sarah was a far cry from animals and faceless names, and even Shannon's grandfather, whose death was expected and foreseen. Death to them was inevitable. Death was not for the young, the palpable. Especially not like this.

Despite the best efforts of authorities, news of Sarah's death had spread quickly and in excruciating detail. Too many civilians had seen too much of the scene to keep a lid on the gossip. Una and Liam Malone had tried to be tactful with their four children—or the three who were old enough to understand—and explain the tragedy in the gentlest of terms, but barely a day had passed before Shannon had heard the full story from Mary Dent down the street. Mary Dent's father was a police officer—she'd tell anyone—and she'd overheard her father telling her mother all of the details. Of course, Mary had also insisted that an alien had broken out of the library and nearly abducted Angela Carson, and Shannon wasn't so sure about that part. Nevertheless, with Sarah Benadine's name on the tongues of many more ready than even Mary Dent to embellish a story, even those who kept their ear firm to the ground found themselves with all the information of how Sarah was discovered: beaten and bloody, in the middle of a trashed library.