The Year of the Gadfly by Jennifer Miller

Author:Jennifer Miller
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: General Fiction
ISBN: 9780547569666
Publisher: Harcourt
Published: 2012-05-01T04:00:00+00:00

From Potter’s Hill, it was another twenty minutes to the Historical Society. When I arrived, I stood at the door for a long time waiting for Hazel to answer. Since the kidnapping, I had called the Historical Society’s phone number and left multiple messages but hadn’t heard back. I was starting to worry. Hazel lived all alone, and if she’d gotten into trouble, who would help her? I pressed the doorbell over and over and was just deciding that I would break one of the windows if necessary when she opened the door.

She looked awful. She was dressed in an oversize flannel shirt and jeans, and her hair resembled a knotted ball of chestnut yarn.

“I’m sorry . . .” I stammered.

Hazel didn’t say anything. She just looked at me with these lusterless eyes the color of a mildewed pool. Her freckles looked like splattered mud.

“I was worried. You didn’t call me back and . . . Are you okay?”

Hazel nodded, though the motion seemed to require tremendous effort.

“Are you sick? Do you need a doctor?”

“I was sleeping, but come on in and I’ll put the kettle on.”

“Are you sure?” I lingered on the porch. “I can come back another day.”

“You trekked all the way here, didn’t you?” There was a bite in her voice. I suddenly remembered that I didn’t know Hazel at all. She opened the door wider and waited for me to enter before shuffling to her studio without turning on any of the lights. Her room was mustier-smelling than the last time. She pulled aside the curtains over the sink and turned on a couple of lamps. I leaned against the kitchen counter as Hazel filled the kettle.

“I took your advice,” I said, thrusting some enthusiasm into my voice. “I went back into the Trench.”

Hazel turned to face me, her thousands of freckles like eyes inspecting my face. It was only a trick of the light but disconcerting nonetheless.

I recounted the secret conversation in the Trench between Mr. Kaplan and Headmaster Pasternak. As I spoke, Hazel grew less cranky, and I was about to launch into the demon and the kidnapping when the kettle burst like a warning siren. I stopped talking.

“Are you all right, Iris?” Hazel asked, pouring me a cup of tea. I nodded and took a sip. The tea tasted like minty roses. “It’s an herbal infusion from Nepal,” she said. “It calms the body and loosens truths from the heart.” I gave her a blank look. “Toxins build up in the body, which is why so many cultures believe in purifying sweats. But we’re all filled with emotionally toxic thoughts and memories—the things we don’t like to speak about. This tea helps shake those thoughts loose.”

“Like a truth serum?”

Hazel frowned. “Of course not. Now drink up.”

My head was telling me to keep mum about Prisom’s Party. It was too soon to reveal that part of my investigation to Hazel or anyone else. But my heart was ordering me to confess everything. I decided to compromise.

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