Locker 484

Locker 484

"Get up, you freak,” Belinda Borkowski barked, two braided fishtails hanging past her shoulders. She nudged Serena’s arm with the toe of her Birkenstock sandal. Serena stayed curled into a ball on the sharp pine needles and dirt, clutching her stuffed animal, a shark named Wenzel, head pounding, a stain of blood at the nape of her blonde hair.

“I said, get up.” Belinda glanced nervously back at the middle school, a line of students forming at the door to head back to fourth period. Serena whimpered and clenched her eyes, balling herself tighter. Blue water. Empty silence. Serena thought. If you stay still long enough, it will leave you alone. It always does.

“Jesus… what’s your name again… uh, Sabrina, everyone expects a little roughing up on the first day. Especially any twelve-year-old new kid that brings a stuffed shark to school.” Belinda cackled. “Besides, it wasn’t even that bad. Michael barely touched you; I saw it.” Serena ran her tongue over her gums, tasting iron. Not good. Belinda made another glance at the door. The playground sat almost empty now as more preteen bodies gathered at the end of the line. “If you don’t get up and tell Mr. Griner you fell and hit your head, I’m going to tell everyone you’re not a virgin.”

Serena turned her head up at that, Belinda’s slim silhouette blocking the sunlight through the trees. “Please don’t.” Serena whimpered. It’d taken all of two seconds for Serena to decide she hated Belinda and she’d hated this school. She’d hated it the moment she read the words scrawled out in black against the white-tiled entryway.

Valleycrest Middle School

Where students

learn to live and

live to learn.

Go Stingrays!

But her mother had sacrificed enough to get her and her brother here from St. Louis, and she didn’t want any untrue rumors to become yet another reason for her to decide to up and leave this town. It never took much.

In the distance, Mr. Griner called and waved for the two girls to join the line. “Tell me what you’re going to tell Griner,” Belinda whispered. “Say it, quick.”

Serena slowly pressed herself up to a seat and clutched her pounding head. After a few deep breaths, she brushed Wenzel off, the felt fabric of his usually white teeth now smeared brown and green. She touched her lip, feeling the sting of split skin and nearly fainted. She’d had worse, but this had to be top three.

“I’m gonna tell him that I slipped and fell, running too fast, and ran into a tree,” Serena said, her voice groggy.

“That’s right. Now I’m gonna help you stand, and you can wrap your arm around my shoulder.” Do as she says, and she’ll leave you alone. All for show, Serena knew, but she took Belinda’s hand anyway and steadied herself as she swayed and tucked Wenzel under her arm.

“Mr. Griner’s never going to believe me,” Serena mumbled, feeling the back of her head and then peering at her fingers, tinged with scarlet.

“Make him believe you,” Belinda said through a smile as she waved at Mr. Griner across the yard.

“Is she OK?” Mr. Griner shouted, waving back.

“She’s hurt!” Belinda responded.

Serena didn’t have to pretend to limp, but knew that the effect was in Belinda’s favor, so she leaned hard on her bony shoulder.

“What’s with the shark anyway?” Belinda muttered as they lumbered across the hot pavement. Serena swallowed her rising anger. Play it cool.

“My dad gave it to me. He took my brother and me to Sea World a few years ago, and the sharks were my favorite.”

Belinda huffed, like puffing air bubbles out of a diving mask. “Sea World, huh? Every kid here’s been to Sea World, but none of ’em bring their Great White whiney baby stuffies to school. What’s he, like, your imaginary friend?”

“He’s a tiger shark,” Serena mumbled as they approached the line. “And he’s not imaginary.”

Belinda tutted and, after a few moments, murmured “freak” under her breath.

“What happened?” Mr. Griner said as he approached, dropping his clipboard onto the pavement. He pushed Serena’s head back and examined her lip. Belinda dropped Serena’s arm and caught her eye with a warning.

“I was running too fast and ran into a tree back in the berm over there,” Serena said, gesturing to the patch of green forest just beyond the rainbow-colored playground as she wiped off the blood from her hand onto her pants.

“You ran and hit your head on a tree in two places at once?” Mr. Griner pushed up his black-rimmed glasses and squinted at the bruises already forming on Serena’s cheek.

“I saw the whole thing,” Belinda said calmly, “it was brutal… she hit the tree and then fell back and hit a rock. She really needs to wear better shoes.” Belinda stared down at Serena’s black flip-flops and the faded, chipped red nail polish on her toes.

Mr. Griner scowled at Belinda and then turned back to Serena, grabbing her shoulders and lowering himself down slightly. “Are you telling me the truth… uh… Sabrina?” He asked gently, his lips awkwardly open in a small “o” as he nodded. He looked like a Moorish Idol with glasses. If Serena wasn’t locked into this role of clumsy new-girl, she would’ve burst out laughing.

“It’s Serena.”

“Oh, sorry.” Mr. Griner shrugged.

“And yes, it’s true,” she said plainly.

Another teacher came running over with an ice pack and handed it to Mr. Griner. He placed it on Serena’s lip, and she winced. Mr. Griner frowned. “Acquar, is it— your last name?” Serena nodded. “I do suggest better shoes for running in tomorrow.” He eyed Wenzel and said, “Maybe leave the shark, too? I bet he doesn’t help matters for you.”

Serena dropped her head and shook it, moving Wenzel to her back. Mr. Griner cleared his throat and then eyed Belinda suspiciously. “Thank you for helping her. You can get in line now.” Belinda shot a last glance at Serena and then turned and stood with several other fish-braids and Birkenstocks.

Mr. Griner helped Serena toward the door and limped her past the entire eighth-grade class, some snickering, or full of pity, and many with wide eyes. Mr. Griner pointed at a teacher and gestured for them to grab Michael out of the line and to the office. Blue water. Silence. Floating. Stay small. They’ll soon forget this ever happened.

*

Serena sat erect on the eggshell blue linoleum examination table in the health office; the buzz of the fluorescent light above her sounded remarkably like a high-pitched minke whale call. She shifted the ice pack and waited. The nurse popped her head in.

“Your mother’s here,” she said softly.

Serena’s stomach dropped. What would she tell her? Her mother could always see right through her, and Serena wasn’t even sure she wanted to lie this time. She was tired of lying. But she was also tired of moving.

“Tell her I have to stop at my locker first and then I’ll be there.” The nurse nodded and left. Serena peeled her thighs off the linoleum, grabbed a worse-for-wear Wenzel, placed the ice pack on the table, then strode out into the empty hallway. Thank Jesus everyone was still in class, she thought.

The pounding in her head had quieted, thanks to a heavy dose of Tylenol, but the ringing in her ears had not. The sound didn’t exactly bother her; it reminded her of the feeling when she’d sink low in the water at the town pool until the pressure built up so high, her ears sang. And that reminded her of stillness, emptiness, and the bliss of the deep blue.

Serena arrived at her locker, number 484. She reached into her pocket and unfolded the paper with her code: 13-45-9. She spun the dial right, then left, then right again and jerked on the handle. It opened, which was unusual. She almost never opened the lock on the first try, on the first day.

Her black backpack and spiraled notebooks lay in the shade of her metal locker; exactly where she left them. She reached in, grabbed her backpack, and unzipped it, stuffing Wenzel into the deep cavern of her bag. As she reached for the notebooks, she noticed a small word written in black Sharpie on the back of the locker. She leaned in to read it closer. PUSH ON ME.

Serena tutted and continued shoving her notebooks and pencil case into her backpack. She’d seen some strange words and curses etched into other lockers before— she’d even etched a few fuck you Bridget/Brittany/Brooke at the different schools she’d been to, but PUSH ON ME was new. It must’ve been an acronym or code or something.

Still, she paused for a moment and waited. What’s the harm in just trying?

She laughed at herself as she reached in and pressed lightly on the back metal wall of her locker. Nothing. She rolled her eyes, zipped up the bag, and wrapped her hand around the locker door to slam it shut. Well, maybe I didn’t push hard enough, she thought.

She reached in and pressed harder on the back of the locker once more. The metal shifted, a sliver of soft blue light pouring from the opening.

“What the—?” She muttered as the back wall continued to move. The metal squeaked outward on an invisible hinge. Serena stuck her head into her locker, breathless. The floor of the locker extended into what appeared to be a metal step. Blue light flickered and ebbed from a giant wall of glass on the right-hand side of a… small room? Serena gasped, completely forgetting the pain in her head.

After a moment, she pulled back to scan the hallway of the middle school. Blessedly empty. Was she going crazy? She licked her lips and turned back to her locker and stepped up, pressing the hidden door wide enough, now, for her to climb through. Her mouth hung open as she squeezed inside, ducking her head and scraping her shoulders on the metal, dragging her backpack behind her. She turned around and pulled the door to her locker shut and stepped down into the small room.

Her mouth stayed open as she took it in. The entire right-side wall was made of glass. She walked over and pressed her hand against the glass and stared out, unblinking, at the perfect stillness— the perfect bliss beneath the deep blue ocean. Tiny bubbles and occasional floating bits of seaweed drifted past as she stared. She dropped her backpack onto the plush, white carpet; the sudden thunk startling her back into reality. Her breath returned in a gasp. She dropped her hand from the glass and looked around again.

“Oh, my God. Oh my God. Oh my…” she rubbed her eyes and then stared at the door she’d just come through. She walked back over and climbed the two steps, opening it a crack to peer out— the light of the middle school hallway shone through the small slits in her locker. She gasped again and closed the door, then turned around, eyes wide with shock.

A long bookshelf ran opposite the wall of glass, covered with hundreds of books; most related to deep-sea explorations or oceanography, while others covered marine biology and diving. In the middle of the room sat two blue bean-bags atop a large circular rug and a small, steaming pot of water, tea bags in a tiny box, the lid already opened. To her right, in a nook sat a small bed with a fish-patterned duvet and a nightstand with a framed picture on it. Serena’s heart lifted, and she smiled so wide the skin on her lip split open again, but she didn’t mind. She winced and touched her mouth for only a moment before she turned back and quickly unzipped her backpack and found Wenzel.

“Wenzel,” she whispered, brushing off the dirt from the black, glassy orb of his eye. “Look.” She tucked him beneath her chin and walked him over to the bookshelf, pacing slowly across the titles, running her hand over the spines. “This was inside my locker.” She breathed.

She passed the stairs to her locker again and then turned left to show Wenzel the ocean for the first time. “And look, Wenzel… it’s your home!” She pressed her head to the glass and closed her eyes, imagining what it’d be like to float, weightless and still in the vast emptiness. For now, the utter quiet of this room would have to suffice. She opened her eyes again and screamed.

A giant, black, glassy eyeball stared back at her from the other side of the pane. Serena staggered back, dropping Wenzel, and took in the sleek, pointed, gray body of an enormous tiger shark, its knife-like fins protruding from its back and belly and sides, its tail swaying slightly to swim in place. An intricate pattern of stripes and shades rippled across its torso— a pattern Serena knew well. Her heart pounded despite the wild smile forming again on her face.

“Holy shit,” She whispered, fearing any sound might scare the magnificent creature off. She stepped closer. Its eye stayed fixed on Serena. She stepped even closer. She reached out and touched the glass. “Are you… Wenzel?” Serena breathed.

The shark made no response but shifted its eye slightly forward. Serena followed its gaze. It was looking at the twin-sized bed and nightstand with a picture in a wooden frame. Serena walked over to it, and the shark followed, swimming next to her behind the glass. She picked up the picture frame and gazed at a photo of her and her father at Sea World from two years ago.

“How in the…” She looked back at the shark. Its eyes flitted forward once more, and Serena looked back at the wall to the left of the bed. A white door with a small, golden doorknob framed the wall, and Serena put down the picture frame and walked over to it. On a plaque, near the top of the door, was a message that read PUSH ON ME.

Serena laughed. “Oh, I’m not following that trick again.” The shark waited, holding Serena’s gaze. “Oh no… I need to get back to my mom— my life. I can’t live in here. I have school and… well, I don’t have many friends, and my dad’s dead, so…” She turned back to the door. Just then, the bell clanged out in the hallway to indicate the end of fourth period. The hallways would be filled with students in a few moments; filled with Belindas and Michaels and Mr. Griners; with expectations and assignments and essays; with standing in front of the class and introducing yourself and where you’re from. Serena looked back at the door to her locker, the door to her life, the door to her mother who waited in her car to bring her home, and placed her hand on the smooth, golden knob and turned.