“Why didn't they just seal off the entrance?” Alicia asked.
“I'm not sure. The nuns were always very big on self-control. "You have to practice self-control." You'd hear it all the time. I think, really, they left it open because they believed the students should all have enough self-control not to go up there, no matter how curious they were.
“Anyway, so it was recess one day-- this was when we were in third grade-- and Adam spots his chance to sneak up in the bell tower and have a look around. Usually there was always somebody around the front lobby-- a nun or one of the lay teachers or Pete, the janitor-- and it was impossible to sneak through the door. But something was happening outside, a fight or something, I think-- I can't really remember-- but everybody was distracted by something that was going on outside. So Adam saw his chance.
I caught him just as he was standing on the landing and had the door open. I was coming down from class and going to recess late for some reason-- probably because one of the nuns held me after class-- and I caught him just as he was about to slip through the narrow door. He eyes were huge, because he must have heard my footsteps on the stairs, and thought I was one of the teachers. When he saw it was me, he waved me over to join him. I didn't really know him very well. He was just a kid in class. But to get a peek up in the bell tower-- well, what the hell? The both of us went through the door, and shut it behind us. We were pretty safe now-- I mean, nobody was going to miss us; they never took head-counts at recess. So we climbed up the stairs, and they were old and spiraled tightly upward. It was really pretty creepy, walking up those stairs, the old wood creaking with each step, dust flying around, cobwebs covering every nook and cranny of the brick walls, and the strong smell of mildew mixed with the reek of something else, something old and rotten. The whole structure just had the air of abandonment about it, as though-- I don't know-- something terrible had happened there at one time, and now the place was forbidden, and not just because the nuns said so. You know, like if a child dies, and his parents lock up his bedroom, just leave everything the same and lock it down as if it were a time capsule. That was the way it felt. We weren't halfway up the tower, and felt like turning round and running. At that point I didn't care whether the nuns discovered us or not; a good beating didn't seem nearly as bad as what might be above us. I couldn't shake the feeling that we were approaching something wicked. That was probably just my imagination, though, because by then the nuns had already had us all brain-washed about evil things; basically evil was all over the place, stalling us, waiting for us to let down our defenses. But I continued anyway. I think the only thing that kept me going was curiosity. Also, if there was something incredible up on the belfry, I didn't want Adam to have sole claim on finding it. So I was right on his heels, when he shoved up the trap door that opened on the belfry, and we climbed up into it. It wasn't as big as I thought it would be-- not much bigger than a large closet, really. Above, just below where the spire peaked, there was a beam running across, from which the bell hung at one time. And all around there were small archways in the walls, made out of stone, and the wind whipped through the archways. About the only thing we found up there was an old nest, which was filled with the skeletons of baby birds that never got to fly. There was a dead crow, too. It looked like it broke its neck, and it was all bloated and swollen. That was all we found-- that and a lot of dust-- hardly anything worthy of future folklore. The views from the archways was pretty good, though; I could look through one and nearly see my house, which was about a half mile away. I was looking out one of the archways, while Adam looked out of another one behind me. He must have been looking down at the kids who were playing at recess, because he said how they looked like ants and Sister Eugenia looked like a beetle. Then he said, "What"s that supposed to be?' I don't know what he was talking about. The next time I turned round, he was gone. Just like that. I heard some screaming coming from outside, and I went over to the other side, to the archway where Adam was standing. I looked down and I could see all the kids standing still. They made an almost perfect circle, and at the center of the circle, Adam was lying there. His arms and legs were thrown out wildly, and I could see where the puddle of blood was forming where his head hit the asphalt. And Sister Eugenia was kneeling on the ground, leaned over him. Then she looked up at saw me looking down through the archway. Her face was red, almost purple, and her eyes-- I'll never forget her eyes-- the look she gave me was the scariest thing I ever saw, scarier even than Adam lying there dead. I must have flew down those old stairs, then, but not fast enough, not nearly fast enough; when I burst out through the door, everybody was waiting for me-- that was how it seemed-- I don't know how many nuns, and Pete, the janitor, and Mr. Ellis, the gym teacher, they were all grabbing at me, the whole herd of them, grabbing and dragging me to the office. It was crazy, like a nightmare. They all automatically assumed that I pushed Adam out the window. They kept screaming at me, why did you do it? What were you thinking? How could you? I didn't even know what they were talking about. I couldn't even speak, I was so afraid and confused. I could never understand why they all assumed I shoved Adam through the archway. It didn't make any sense. It was as though they never considered the possibility that he just slipped. Later, when everything calmed down and I told them how it happened, they called me a liar, and the nuns looked at me with such hatred you'd think they were confronting the devil himself. The police had no probably believing me. I just told them the truth, which was that I was looking the other way when Adam had fallen. So I didn't known exactly what happened. No, he didn't yell or scream or anything. He just said that one thing, "What"s that supposed to be,' and no, I had no idea what he'd meant. That was it-- that was the truth. But nobody at the school ever believed it.”
