Chapter 23

The Homeopath

In the waning afternoon light, Heather stared out the window at Burton’s form stooped over his herbs. He had been toiling there for hours, and she wondered what he thought about for all that time. Heather tensed when a thin figure emerged from the shadows and made its way down the path between Burton’s back yard and her own. The figure wore an Orchard Valley football jacket and clutched his stomach every now and again.

Adam Hollowcast.

Heather crept closer to the window and ducked down so she could see without being seen. Slowly, ever so slowly, she turned the crank to open her window so that she might hear their conversation.

Burton turned around just as Adam approached.

“Stomach still bothering you?” Burton asked.

Adam shrugged. “It’s nothing. It was fine until practice ended. And now—but it’s nothing.” He grimaced.

Burton leaned in closer. “Nonsense! Try this.” He snipped a handful of herbs and handed three leaves to Adam. “Chew, but do not swallow the leaves.”

Adam obeyed without question.

“Sit.” Burton pointed to a rickety wooden bench at the edge of the garden.

“No,” Adam said, grasping his stomach again. “I’d like to do the interview and be on my way.”

“Oh,” Burton sighed. “I just thought that—while you were here—I could examine you for signs of distress. Have my herbs been helping the dizziness?”

“I don’t know,” Adam said.

“And the stomach pains?”

Adam shook his head. “If we could just do the interview…”

“I’m worried about you. Your headaches might have lessened, but your skin is paler than ever. Roll up your sleeve. Let me take your pulse.”

Burton reached for Adam’s sleeve, but Adam pulled his arm away in revulsion. “I’d rather not.”

“It’ll be quick,” Burton said.

Adam drew his arm back even further, rubbing his skin through his shirt.

“You’d be amazed how helpful these herbs can be,” Burton insisted, reaching for Adam. “I can make you a salve that will cool any type of skin irritation if that’s what ails you.”

“No,” Adam said again.

Burton dropped his arm, but his eyes darted from side to side, and his lips curled into a smile. “Why is it that you wear a long-sleeved shirt, even when the autumn weather is warm? And why is it that you wear a long-sleeved compression shirt under your football jersey even at games?”

“It’s for the sake of my muscles,” Adam said almost too quickly. “It’s so my muscles don’t get cold and cramp up.”

“I see.” Burton squinted at Adam. “And the dark circles under your eyes?”

“Just tired. If we could just do the interview, maybe I could go home and sleep.”

“Very well. I just would have thought that being so quickly promoted to team captain would have the opposite effect on your health. Perhaps you need a girlfriend. Homecoming is coming up pretty soon.”

Burton paused to let the suggestion sink in. Heather’s heart sank. Burton smirked and turned towards Heather’s house. Heather ducked. Surely, he couldn’t have seen her!

She peered out again to see Burton turn back to Adam. “There are many at school who would gladly date you. You’re the star of the team. What about a cheerleader? Or one of the editors of the paper? Perhaps a girlfriend, a confidante, would help you feel better.”

From her window, Heather’s heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t help feeling the pangs of jealousy. Her mind flashed with her former daydreams of attending Homecoming with Adam. She couldn’t picture him going with anyone else.

“Well?” Burton asked.

“No. I don’t want a girlfriend right now. I can’t.”

“What do you mean, you can’t?”

“I just can’t.”

Burton considered this. Meanwhile, Adam grasped his stomach again.

“It’s stress,” Burton said.

“What?”

“Stress. It’s causing an ulcer. I’m sure of it. Here, let’s go inside and I’ll make you a tea that should help.”

“You’ve been giving me teas for a couple weeks now. Nothing’s helped.”

Burton rubbed his chin. “It can’t hurt, in any case.”

“But it won’t help. Nothing’ll help.”

“Listen, Adam. I’ve been working with these herbs for years now. I know what I’m doing. And if my herbs aren’t helping, then your condition simply isn’t physical.”

“Isn’t physical?”

Burton nodded. “It’s in your mind. Stress. Anxiety. The only cure for you is to find a confidante. It must be stressful with all that’s gone on. The scandal. Jared kicked off the team. You now team captain. You must feel like you have a lot to prove. You need someone you can talk to. Why not let me help you find a girlfriend?”

“I can’t,” Adam said again.

“Why? There are plenty of girls who—”

Adam crossed his arms. “I can’t.”

Heather couldn’t help but smile.

“Then confide in me,” Burton suggested. His tone had all the elements of kindness, but Heather detected something very sinister just beneath the surface—like tempting bait laid out on a snare.

“Confide in you?” Adam repeated.

“We’ve been spending so much time together recently, with me constantly interviewing you about the football team. It seems only natural that we might become good friends. Or perhaps best friends.”

Heather wasn’t sure, but it seemed that Adam shuddered.

Burton continued. “Tell me, friend, what ails you? What secret stress are you burdening yourself with? Have you done something wrong? Witnessed something? Get it off your chest. Or out of your stomach,” Burton said, for Adam was clasping his stomach once again, and his face winced in pain.

“There’s nothing I need to tell you,” Adam said.

“But there is something to be told!” Burton murmured to himself. He turned to Adam. “The students at school praise you. There’s not a day at school that you aren’t followed by throngs of well-wishers. There are girls that would die for the chance to go to Homecoming with you. There are athletes that idolize you. Even the brainiacs envy your newfound sense of rhetoric. With your combination of talents, you could go on to become anything you want! It would be a shame to let a little anxiety hold you back. Why not let it all out? I won’t tell a soul.”

It seemed, then, that Adam turned around and looked directly at the window out of which Heather peeked. She was sure she couldn’t be seen from the tiny corner, but she dared not move. Adam stared and stared, and for a moment Heather thought he would never look away. Finally, though, Burton put an arm around Adam and ushered him inside, muttering something about a soothing cup of tea.

In the subsequent days, Heather frequented that window in the evenings only to see that Adam had become a regular visitor to the home of Burton Childress. The two always met at the herb garden, and Burton usually gave Adam a steaming mug of tea into which he sprinkled a concoction of dried and fresh herbs. After that, Burton led Adam down the wooded path that led to the ancient cemetery in the forest. As far as Heather could see—until they disappeared down the pathway—the two seemed lost in discussion.

The tea seemed to make Adam more amenable to Burton. After drinking it, Adam always leaned in closer to Burton, allowed Burton to put an arm around Adam’s shoulder, made Adam nod when Burton whispered in his ear. Suspicious, Heather felt tempted to follow them. She worried about Adam. She couldn’t help but think of the rumors going around at school. Ever since Burton had become a sports writer for the Observer, students had been talking about his past. He had come to Orchard Valley in the spring of his freshman year. Recently, rumors started circulating about the reason for the transfer. According to local gossip, Burton had been a staff writer at the first high school he’d attended. It was suspected—though never proven—that he poisoned his teacher’s dog after he was passed over as assistant editor of the paper.

And that wasn’t the only rumor causing students to fear him. Heather was not alone in noticing Adam’s diminishing appearance. Others were starting to whisper about whether Burton may have been poisoning Adam with “herbs” from his garden. How else could Adam’s pallor be explained, or his weight loss, or his hand constantly over his stomach?

Speculation flew about Burton’s ear—how it had come to be so gnarled. The most plausible rumor was that Burton, experimenting with his herb garden, had taken a dangerous combination that made him temporarily lose his mind. In a wild hallucination, it was said, he’d aspired to become like Van Gogh and cut off his own ear. Luckily for him, he’d met only modest success. It was a strange enough tale to keep everyone at a safe distance from the strange boy.

Then there was the couple who reported spotting Burton in the forest in the middle of the night. The two had been making out in the woods near the ancient graveyard down the path behind Heather’s house. It was well known to be a secluded area, but few dared venture there in the darkness. The couple had been interrupted in their rapture by a lone figure standing in silhouette against the moon. It was Burton Childress, and he didn’t seem to notice them. He was absorbed in some type of meditation. He held in his hands a basket in which he was collecting plants. And under his breath, over and over again, the couple heard just one name repeated: Adam Hollowcast.

Needless to say, students around school now associated him with the archetype of a malicious wizard. Drug addicts followed him around, hoping for a glance at an illicit substance while darker students hoped for a word of secret information on how he was affecting Adam. Otherwise, no one wanted to cross Burton Childress for fear he might slip poison into their lunches. Students pitied Adam Hollowcast as he made his way through the hallways, each day looking more pained—and each day spending more time with the fiend who acted like a friend.

But what had Heather to fear? Her life could get no worse than it already was, and so she decided to venture into the woods. If there was some secret Burton Childress was keeping, she was resolved to find it!