Period 8 by Chris Crutcher Page A

that time on a school night?”
    Logs takes a deep breath, closes his eyes.
    â€œYou know,” Hannah says, “drinking, smoking dope, looking for cheap, easy sex.”
    â€œYoung lady, do you think this is funny?”
    â€œI think,” Hannah says, “that it’s none of your business what I was doing out that late and if you want to know about Mary, you should ask me about Mary.”
    Wells glares at Rankin, who shrugs.
    â€œI’m sorry,” he says to Hannah. “I’ve been upset. Did my daughter tell you anything that might help us find her?”
    â€œI offered her a ride home, but she didn’t want to go, and I’m probably breaking a confidence here, but it was because of you.”
    â€œShe has no reason—”
    Hannah gestures surrender. “She didn’t want to go home. The rest of it is none of my business. She was kind of, like, disoriented , and not all that informative. I took her to my house. When I got up this morning she was gone. I thought she’d gone to school, then I heard on the news she was missing.”
    â€œNothing else was said?”
    â€œWell, I offered her an alibi.”
    â€œExcuse me?”
    â€œYou know,” Hannah says, “an excuse for being gone; ’course I didn’t know she’d been gone this long.”
    â€œWhy in the world would you do that?”
    â€œTo keep her out of trouble,” Hannah says. She glances over at Logs. Sheesh . Is this guy a mammal?
    â€œI guess that’s what passes for loyalty these days,” Wells says.
    â€œActually,” Logs says, “that passes for loyalty in any days . ”
    â€œYou’re sure it was my daughter. Mary.”
    â€œI’ve gone to school with her for four years,” Hannah says.
    â€œShe’s never mentioned you.”
    â€œUntil today I probably haven’t mentioned her. I didn’t say we were friends, I said we’ve gone to school together.”
    â€œI suppose there’s no reason to believe you’re not telling the truth.”
    â€œI could be personality disordered,” Hannah says.
    Wells ignores her.
    â€œWe need to call off the search,” Officer Rankin says. “Mr. Logsdon, could you help us call these kids back to the bus? I’ll catch up with your principal. You all might be able to actually get some education in today.”
    Hannah slugs Logs’s shoulder. “That would make it different from most days, huh, Teach?”
    â€œYou make it hard to defend America’s youth sometimes, little girl.” To the officer, he says, “Yeah, I can get these kids rounded up and back to the learning factory.” He punches speed dial on his cell to let Dr. Johannsen know they’re coming back, then goes to round everyone up.
    Logs walks toward Victor Wells, who’s now standing next to his car. “Mr. Wells, how can I help? Obviously your daughter hasn’t been abducted, but you still don’t know where she is. I’ve been worried about her lately; she’s not been in my noon gathering.”
    Mary’s father regards Logs warily. “I have to tell you, Mr. Logsdon, I’m not a fan of your ‘noon gathering.’”
    â€œI can’t say I’m surprised.”
    â€œIt’s elements like—what do you call it, eighth period?—that put ideas into kids’ heads that come to this.” He waves his hand over the parking lot and the students now returning.
    â€œYou think my Period 8 is to blame for you and your daughter’s troubles?”
    â€œWhat makes you think my daughter and I are having trouble?”
    â€œObstinate as she can be, Hannah Murphy doesn’t make things up. Your daughter’s gone, she has to know you’re worried, and she isn’t doing a thing to alleviate that worry. In my book that indicates trouble. Look, Mr. Wells, it’s none of my business what goes on in anybody’s home, if