SANTA MARIA HIGH (COMPLETED)

Part Two: 14

Santa Mariah High school, roiled in shock and uncertainty that night. Dark clouds churned above, the moon was out of sight.

Madam Rosalind wondered if anyone in the manor might sleep tonight, no not after the blood curdling scream, not after the sight of Pa Jacob’s body, not when she’s aware that two students are unaccounted for. She hardly noticed when Oscar wasn’t around.

She woke up on the sofa, it was midnight. She had exhausted phone contacts, and still held the phone in her hand when sleep took her. Something warm curled around her legs, something furry and black. She looked down and ruffled the cat’s hair, it purred lazily.

She picked the cat, to return it to its place. It was then she noticed the cut on the cat’s haunch, coated with dried blood. “what happened to you?” she had asked as if the cat could respond. She found some methylated spirit, a cotton wool and plaster and did what she could do to the wound which wasn’t deep.

Madam Rosalind called the principal again, there was no good news.

Lisa Mark and Anthony Laurence… still missing.

Anthony Laurence’s book was there with his name on it, and his school shirt, Lisa’s too…well, she did leave more than a shirt behind to confirm their reason for being there was more than academic. She wanted to consider the notion that they had eloped, but in which generation has eloping couples decided that the best way to was to leave their clothes down with a dead body in their wake. Do you exactly understand this generation Ma’am? She asked herself. This internet, social media hyped, smart phone generation? She didn’t understand how they think, why the sudden lack of ambition, the laxity, the epidemic of stupidity…

But still…

It was no news that some student left souvenirs for Pa Jacob to find back in the day, or that such things despite their scrutiny still ended up happening between students who should know better. Students who knew the rules well enough to know how to break them. And ruin this night for her too! She furiously thought.

And Pa Jacob…

Lying there, with his hand still slung to his neck, spread-eagled. She shuddered at the thought of him dying, in that way? There was nothing to denote violence but the slash across his face. There’s no way in the seventh hell that could be a human hand. She had been closer to those two teenagers these past few weeks planning for the concert, none of them had given her reasons to think they could do this.

There’s no part of the rule book that really exhaust how to react to the death of a man like Pa Jacob, more so, how to react if he died the way he did, considering the circumstances. Somewhere in the midst of the story is a part Madam Rosalind was yet to understand about death. Nothing changes except for the loss. It wouldn’t rain if the season isn’t right, the night would not last longer or the day shorter, no wind, no lightening… the world just rolled on unconcerned. That in itself was annoying. Pa Jacob, as well as anyone deserve to die eliciting some cosmic change to mark their departure, something to give meaning, to give some sort of consolation. Even when you know nothing would happen, that the world will keep on as if nothing happened. It never feels right, when you lose someone you deeply cared about.

There is no official story about the cause of Pa Jacob’s death yet, she, as well as everyone else was waiting for the autopsy. The police had arrived that night, and they were taking a sweep of all the nook and corners of the place.