Chapter 6

Susan did a slow turn, sighing. I said nothing; I knew Susan wanted one last look around the room we had shared for a month. She said, “I hope you get a roommate who can lift you up as high as you can go. I know you’ll be one of the best ever.”

I smiled. “There’s never any guarantees. I don’t know if I’ll even graduate. All I know is that when I do go, whether it’s as a graduate, or at a demo or a party, you’ll be there with me.”

Susan turned to look at me. “What do you mean?”

I fingered the envelope on my desk. Susan knew what was in it—she’d seen me collect it at the hair salon. “When I’m hanged, I’m going to have this lock of your hair wrapped around my collar. You’ll be just a couple of inches away from the rope.”

Susan put her arms around me and squeezed tight, tears running freely from her eyes now. “Shit. I wasn’t going to cry, but that is just so sweet. Thank you.”

She finally let go and looked up at me. “I’m ready. Do we have everything we need?”

I nodded. “We do here. Think a minute to see if you forgot anything you wanted to tell Gil and Bridget.”

Susan shook her head. “There wasn’t really that much to tell them. I got it all written down.” She looked at the room again, then turned and grinned at me. “Let’s go do it.”

I turned and picked up the rope from my bed as Susan popped off her bra and slid her shorts and panties down her legs. Naked now, Susan put her hands behind her back, her wrists crossed, and waited for me. I started wrapping the rope around both of her wrists.

“I wish they’d let you use the crotch rope. You deserve to have a chance at an orgasm while you’re hanging.”

Susan laughed. “I feel so tingly right now, I think I can cum without that. Just seeing everybody watching me will help. Doing the show will help too. Thank you again, so much, for that.”

I finished the knot between her wrists. “Try to get out of that. I don’t want you to get loose and mess up the demo, and everybody blame me for it.”

Susan tugged hard at her wrists, her forearm and shoulder muscles straining. “Yeah, that’s good.”

“Not too tight?”

Susan laughed. “It doesn’t matter if my hands go to sleep before the rest of me.”

I picked up the bedsheet and thought. “I’m trying to think what’s the best way to do this. Hold on.” I lay the sheet out flat on my bed, put a rope across the middle of it, and folded the sheet across the rope. I lifted the sheet up at the fold, draped it over Susan’s back with the fold at the top, and wrapped the fold around her neck, the loose ends of rope projecting out from either side of it. I tied the rope loosely around Susan’s neck, finishing with a quick-release. I wrapped one more rope around the sheet at Susan’s waist, to hold the sheet closed, and tied it off with another quick-release. Susan was shrouded in the sheet down to her knees. “How’s that feel? Is that going to stay?”

She walked around the room tentatively. “I think so, if I don’t make any sudden big moves.”

I looked at the clock by my bed. “Five to eleven. We better go.” I grabbed my electronic clicker, which all students had been told to bring with them to the demo, and clipped it to the waistband of my shorts. I put my pen and small notepad in my pocket, and looked up to see Susan was looking at me, smiling. “I’m the one student who doesn’t have to worry about that stuff today.”

I smiled back and stood in front of her. “Yeah, you’ll probably be the least tense student there. Ready?”

Susan stood on her toes and kissed me, one last time, a long, soft kiss. I suddenly remembered Miranda’s last kiss with Beth, and my eyes stung. I know just a little now, just a shadow, of how they felt then.

Susan broke off the kiss, and looked lovingly at me, our eyes just inches apart. “Funny to get so close so fast. Good time for it, though, right?”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”

Susan turned suddenly, and walked toward the door. She stopped, and giggled. “Oops. A little help here.”

I laughed, and reached for the doorknob. “You’re acting more like a princess than a prisoner. Got me doing everything for you.”

Susan stepped out into the hall, letting me catch up with her so we could walk side by side.

Just in front of us, Heidi, from three doors down, burst out of her room and started running down the hall. She gave us a quick glance, then stopped suddenly. “I guess I’m not late, if you guys aren’t there yet.”

Susan grinned. “Can’t start without me.”

Heidi gave Susan a puzzled look. “What’s the sheet for?”

I answered, “Part of the show. You’ll see in a minute.”

Heidi smiled. “Your hair looks really cute that way, Susan.”

Susan beamed at her. “Thanks. It feels kind of weird. I don’t exactly have time to get used to it. I love the way they made it look, though.” At the salon, they had cut it down to about a 1/2-inch length, while shaping it at the edges so that it still looked nice. Susan had had me hold my arm in front of his neck to block her view in the mirror from the neck down, Susan spent a few minutes admiring her new hairstyle, seeing what her head would look like mounted in its niche.

Heidi backed away, smiling. “I better get there so I can get settled before it starts. Really looking forward to your show, Susan.”

“Thanks.”

Heidi gave us a little wave before turning and sprinting away.

Susan took a deep breath. “I hope I don’t disappoint everybody.”

I rubbed Susan’s shoulder. “I know you won’t.”

I paused at the door of the demo room, taking in the sight—I hadn’t seen it other than empty before. My heart pounded, stimulated by the drama of the situation and my own role in it.

What appeared to be the entire First Year class was gathered on four rows of benches circling the hanging platform. The noose hung down above it, ready for Susan’s neck. The benches were semicircles, actually, four on either side of the platform, with small gaps between the semicircles affording walkways. The nearest of the benches was barely four feet from the noose, slightly elevated to give the students a better view, with each succeeding row slightly higher than the one in front. No student on any of the benches was more than about twelve feet away from the noose.

I looked at Susan; her face was glowing with excitement. She whispered in a voice full of wonder, “They’re all here for me!”

I grinned and whispered back, tapping my own head, “Remember, you’ll be in here for all of them, always. You’ll be part of their identities.”

She sighed and leaned her head on my shoulder. “Thank you again. You’ve made this a really special day.”

I shook my head. “No, you’ve done that.”

The students were chatting with each other as they waited—none had yet noticed us in the doorway. Chip, a teacher in a red outfit, was calling the roll, and had nearly reached the end of the list when he spotted me. He held up his hand as a signal to wait where I was for the moment. Barbara, another teacher, walked toward the door.

Several students on the far side saw us, and suddenly broke into applause. The others soon joined in, the ones on the near side twisting around to see.

Susan flushed and laughed nervously, grabbing me into a hug. I smiled and turned him firmly back to face the room. “Come on, Suz. Just another performance of the play.”

Susan whispered, “This is just a little more intense, Amy.”

“It’s exactly what you wished when you were doing the play, isn’t it? When you were hanging, you imagined it was for real, right?”

Susan shivered and grinned. “You know it.”

The applause died out, and the conversations resumed, both quieter and more intense than before. Chip reached the end of the list of names and nodded, then cleared his throat and held up his hand for attention. The murmuring gradually faded.

Barbara met us at the door. She smiled at Susan. “I was going to give you kind of a pep talk. Do I need to?”

Susan smiled back and shook her head. “I’m okay. Are we starting?”

Barbara turned back toward Chip and nodded, and looked back at Susan. “Not quite yet.” The older girl fished something like a cloth band out of the small pocket of her shorts. “I need to put this on you.”

Barbara lifted the band up toward Susan’s throat; it was a cloth choker, similar to the ones Miranda and Beth had worn at their hangings. I suspected it had the same purpose. “Is that a pulse monitor?” I pulled down the bedsheet slightly, leaving room for Barbara to overlap the velcro pads that fastened the choker.

Barbara nodded. “We’ll need it for the lesson today.” She smiled again and gave Susan a quick kiss on the cheek; then turned and walked back toward the middle of the room.

Chip was addressing the waiting class. “Everybody get out your clicker. Did anyone not remember to bring theirs?” He waited, but no one spoke. Some of the students shifted in their seats, fishing their clickers out of their pockets; some had already been holding theirs. Chip nodded and went on. “I would suggest not taking notes during the hanging. We’d prefer that you pay full attention to what’s going on, without being distracted by trying to write anything. During the hanging, some of you may have suggestions for Susan, but please don’t just speak out. Raise your hand and wait until Barbara or I point to you. It’s possible we might not want you to say anything right at that moment. Understood?” He waited for nods, and continued.

“Today, the one thing we want you to be watching for especially is the moment of Susan’s death. At the instant you think Susan’s heart has stopped, push the button on your clicker. The signal from your clicker will be time stamped in the computer, and compared afterwards with the actual time of death. The closer you are, the more points you’ll score as your grade for this demo. Okay?” He waited again for positive responses.

Chip looked toward the door and smiled. “This is a little unusual, but I’m sure you all know Susan and Amy intend to put on a little show for you. Can you tell us a little more about it, Amy?”

“It’s just a little scene from a play Susan did in high school,” I said, “If any of you haven’t seen the play ‘The Wrong Woman,’ it’s about a woman who’s hanged for a murder she didn’t commit.” I shrugged. “I guess that about covers it. Oh, none of you need to say anything during the show. It’ll look like Susan wants you to say something, but you’re not supposed to.”

“Are you ready, then?”

I breathed deeply, in and out, and looked at Susan. “Are you?”

Susan took a slow breath. “Amy, I just want to say again thanks for everything. For last night, and making this easier for me, and ... just for being such a great roommate.” She grinned. “I won’t wish you luck. You don’t even need that. I know you’re going to graduate.”

I tapped my own head. “If I do, it’ll be because I have you up here with me.”

Susan grinned and stood on her tiptoes to kiss me. “You know that means everything to me.” She gestured then with her head. “Okay, let’s go.”

I patted Susan’s shoulder, then tried to settle my pounding heart. She walked—more properly, trudged, into the room, her head down. I followed her between the semicircles of seats, toward the center and the platform,.

Susan entered the inner circle, and stopped by the platform, at last looking up at the noose. She let out a moan and her knees buckled. I caught her and held her up until she stood on her own again

I had the first line. “Janeen Forest, according to the authority of the state, the hour of your execution is here.” It sounded a little stilted to me, but real executions weren’t really much less formal. “In front of these witnesses, you will be hanged for the murder of Roger Penney. Do you have any final words?”

Susan turned slowly, with a hopeless look toward the onlooking students. She’s really good with this, I thought. Well, I guess she’s done it enough.

In a low but somehow penetrating voice, no doubt coached by the school’s drama teacher, Susan said, “I didn’t do it, I didn’t do it! Why doesn’t anyone ever believe me?”

“Your trial was long ago, and the time for arguing your case is over.”

Susan snapped, “You asked if I had any last words! I just want to know if one person here believes me. Salem!” Susan looked vaguely in front of him. “You knew Roger. You know me! How can you think I would do this?” I couldn’t tell who Susan was looking at—most likely she was carefully looking between students so none would think they were being addressed. The original name in that line was “Sandy,” but there was actually a student here named Sandy, and we’d decided to change the name.

Grant looked on with his characteristic smirk. I glared at him and added a tiny headshake. Grant responded with a lift of his eyebrows and a shrug. I was glad Susan wasn’t looking in that direction.

The students, including Grant, were completely hushed. Aside from Grant, they seemed awed.

Susan’s shoulders slumped. In that same, low but penetrating voice, she said. “Just one person to believe me would be enough. I could be at peace with my death then, if I had the faith of just one person.”

I stepped up onto the platform. “Janeen Forest, turn to face me.” Susan slowly turned, and backed off for a moment as if she intended to resist, then shook herself, squared her shoulders and stepped up, as if resigned to her fate and determined to die with dignity.

I reached out and pulled the ends of the knots holding the bedsheet. I tried to make the unveiling as dramatic as Miranda’s, but the lack of springs made that impossible. So I did my best, flicking the sheet off Susan’s shoulders with my fingers so that it flew back behind me, settling to the floor just off the platform. The murmurs from the watching students told me I’d carried it off adequately. We hadn’t been able to get permission to oil Susan’s body; the staff decided that would interfere with the students’ concentration on the hanging process, and in the absence of sunlight it wouldn’t have been as impressive as the truly stunning image of Miranda’s body glowing. Susan, of course, didn’t have a body like Miranda’s either, but, to my delight she was suddenly standing so proudly, her eyes so alight with excitement and anticipation, that I could sense the air of astonishment enveloping the room.