Divine Evil

waited more than ten years to find out what it was like, he thought, as he set the swing back in motion. He figured that was slow enough.
    As the crickets began to sing, neither of them realized they were caught in the lens of a telescope.

Chapter 7
    T HOUGH ERNIE BUTTS FIGURED school was, at best, a waste of time, he liked his advanced chemistry class. There was something fascinating about the Bunsen burners, the test tubes, and petri dishes. Memorizing the periodic chart of elements was a bore, but he'd never had any problem with retention. Nor did he have any trouble identifying unknowns in a mixture. Unknowns never failed to interest him.
    Still, doing lab work was the best. There was something powerful about mixing chemicals, testing reactions. He always felt in control. He liked to measure and pour and create, and toyed with the idea of making a bomb. Not a stupid stink bomb like Denny Moyers had put together and set off during third period in the girls′ locker room. That was kid stuff. Ernie wanted something that would flash and boom, busting out windows and setting off some real old-fashioned hysteria.
    He could do it; school, and the books his parents had bought him, had given him the knowledge. He was certain he had the capability. And if he decided to do it, hewouldn't get caught like that jerk-off Moyers. Real power wasn't in bragging about what you did, but in having people wonder.
    Doodling in his notebook, Ernie glanced up as James Atherton repeated his instructions. As far as Ernie was concerned, Atherton was a bigger asshole than most adults. He repeated everything in his quiet, tutorial voice, occasionally stretching and turning his long, skinny neck or polishing his glasses as he droned on and on.
    Like a four-eyed giraffe, Ernie thought maliciously.
    Everybody knew he'd made a nice little pile of money in real estate and didn't even have to teach. But here he was, semester after semester, in his dopey suits and ties, trying to teach chemical reactions to kids who mostly didn't give a fuck.
    People said he was dedicated; Ernie figured he was just a dick.
    The fact that he was mayor of Emmitsboro only added to Ernie's bitter amusement. What did the mayor of Hick-town have to do anyway? Decide what color the benches in the park should be painted?
    “This chemical bonding lab will count for one-quarter of your grade in this last marking period,” Atherton continued, scanning the faces of his students with a little inward sigh. After nearly thirty years as a teacher, he had no trouble reading the outcome of this final experiment of the school year. At least ten percent of the class would fail and too many would barely skim by.
    “Miss Simmons, perhaps you could put your compact down for a moment.”
    There was a ripple of giggles as Sally Simmons hastily stuffed her compact in her bag.
    “You will be working in teams,” Atherton continued, meticulously straightening a pile of papers before pickingit up to distribute the sheets. “Lab partners are listed on this work sheet. I suggest you familiarize yourselves with the stages of the experiment. Written work will be due in two weeks.”
    As the papers made their way around the class, there were groans and grunts and whispered comments. Ernie noted, with little interest, that Sally Simmons was his lab partner.
    “It will be up to each team to distribute the workload,” Atherton said over the din. In his unassuming way, he studied each student. He knew each of them better than they would have guessed. “Remember, you are partners, and the grade, good or bad, will belong to both of you. You may go to your assigned stations and begin your planning.” He held up a bony finger. “Quietly.”
    Atherton glanced at the clock and was as relieved as his students that only ten minutes remained in the period.
    “I guess we're partners.” Sally tried a bright smile. Though she'd known Ernie for years, from a distance, she still wasn't sure what to make of him. He was by turns wild and moody, and that appealed to her sympathy for rebels.
    “Yeah.” Ernie gave her a long, unnerving look that had her licking her lips.
    “Well, I guess we could study and work on the written part after school some days. We can use my house if you want.”
    “I work after school.”
    “Well… after that, then. I could come over to your place if that's better.”
    He continued to look at her in a way that had her fussing with her hair, then the buttons of her shirt.