“Why such a long face on such a special day?” Mrs. Jasmine’s lilting voice warmed Jamie’s insides like a cup of hot cocoa on a chilly morning.
“After so many of them, they’re not so special,” she replied, then, realizing that such a negative statement might put Miss Jasmine off, she smiled and added, “but I think the cake is better than usual this time.”
Miss Jasmine returned her smile and stooped down beside her. “Well, you must be a veteran cake eater by now.”
“That’s for sure. Maybe that’s the special skill I was meant to learn: how to eat cake without growing fat or breaking out with pimples.” Jamie giggled.
“Well, just remember, many late bloomers have gone on to have the strongest powers of all. The longer it takes just means the more powerful you’ll be.”
“I know,” Jamie replied as she took another bite of cake. “I’ve memorized all the stories about the great late bloomers like Elise Brightly, master prognosticator. Or Brenda Truelove, empathic-telepath extraordinaire. They are my two favorites. I’ve even thought my new name might be something like Brightly Truelove. I figure it’s taken me so long to break through that I deserve to change both my first and last name. Don’t you agree?”
“Maybe so, honey,” Miss Jasmine replied, caressing Jamie’s cheek and sending warm fuzzies all over her. “It wouldn’t hurt to ask.”
As she spoke, Jamie noticed Mrs. Elwood reenter the room and head straight towards them. There go the warm fuzzies. Mrs. Elwood would see to it.
“May I see you for just a moment, Miss Jasmine?” Mrs. Elwood said with little more than a glance and nod towards Jamie. The two teachers walked a few yards away. Jamie pretended to eat her cake but kept her eyes on them. Over the years, she’d learned one important skill while under Mrs. Elwood’s guidance—lip reading. She studied the mouths of the two teachers closely and instantly became part of the conversation.
“I’ve just come from the administration office. They are very concerned about Jamie, the student you were just talking…” Mrs. Elwood glanced over towards Jamie who quickly glanced down at her cake.
“…know who she is,” Miss Jasmine was saying as Jamie glanced back up. “What’s the problem?”
“They are recommending she be removed from the classroom.”
“You mean transferred?” Miss Jasmine asked.
“No, removed entirely from the program.” Was that a hint of a smile at the edge of Mrs. Elwood’s lips?
“But they can’t do that,” Miss Jasmine said, loud enough for Jamie to hear without reading her lips. “All students are guaranteed the right to an education. It’s in the bylaws of the state.”
“Up to a point,” Mrs. Elwood replied. “There is a limit, however. The rule is rarely exercised because very few students reach the limit, so few people even know it exists.”
“But what about late bloomers being the cream of the crop?” Miss Jasmine asked in a softer voice.
“That’s true but only up to about eleven years of age, then other factors come into play. Most of the children who haven’t broken through by eleven have only a small chance to learn a special power.”
“Well, if they are all taken out before they’ve broken through, how would we know?” Miss Jasmine glanced over to Jamie, but this time Jamie didn’t bother to look down. Let them figure out that she could read lips. What did it matter? They were going to take her out of class anyway.
Miss Jasmine saw her staring and smiled at her. The teacher took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. “Let me take her. I’ll teach her through.”
“Well, that’s very generous of you, Miss Jasmine, but I hope you realize that the mark goes against the teacher that had the student when she was withdrawn, not any of the previous teachers.”
“I don’t care,” Miss Jasmine replied without hesitating. “It won’t make any difference because she won’t be withdrawn. The next cake will be Jamie’s.”
Jamie stuffed the last of the cake into her mouth to keep from shouting with glee.
For the next two weeks Jamie worked harder than she had in over two years. For the first time she had something more than herself at stake. If she didn’t break through, the mark would go against her new teacher, Miss Jasmine. Receiving such a mark so early in her career would be devastating. Somehow I must find a way to break through, Jamie thought. She had heard other children talk about finding pathways into their psychic powers. Such talk never made much sense to Jamie, but now, for the first time she was intent on finding such a pathway. Everything depended upon it.
But by the end of the third week, Jamie was ready to pull her hair out. Nothing. Not one hint of a breakthrough. No paths, no new powers, not even a single new insight. Nothing. Well, not quite nothing. A huge pile of frustration threatened to bury her alive with worry.
“I think you’re trying too hard now,” Miss Jasmine said one morning when the frustration had grown too much to bear alone. Jamie had run to her, tears flowing down her cheeks.
“Somehow, I must learn to throw my thoughts, or see the future, or float in the air—something. I don’t care what, but something has to happen and happen quickly. Otherwise, they’re going to toss me out of here as a total failure, and your career will be ruined.” The words blurted out before she realized what she’d said.
“So you were listening the other day,” Miss Jasmine said, mildly scolding her favorite student.
“Well, yeah, kind of.” Jamie smiled sheepishly. “I’m pretty good at reading lips. I didn’t mean to pry. It just became a habit. Something to pass the time.”
“Well, don’t worry your pretty little head anymore.” Miss Jasmine pulled one of Jamie’s pigtails affectionately. “You’re going to break through, and my career will be fine either way. Instead of working so hard, why don’t you just relax. Try playing with the guided meditations. Don’t worry about what you may or may not find. Just play.”
No one had ever suggested to Jamie that she could play with this stuff. It seemed silly, but what did she have to lose?
As the class resumed, everyone returned to their spot in the circle. At least she didn’t have to stare at that dumb candle this time. Guided meditations were reported to be an effective way to break through. Oops, Jamie caught herself. Don’t worry about breaking through. Just let it be fun this time. She closed her eyes and waited for the soft music to begin. Oh good, it’s the one with the ocean and seagulls in the background. It was her favorite piece.
“You’re strolling along a favorite stretch of beach.” Mrs. Jasmine’s melodic voice is much more soothing than Mrs. Elwood’s, Jamie noted to herself. Her voice blended with the music, the words nestling in among the melody instead of competing with it. Jamie’s eyes grew heavy as she sank deeply into a trance. She pictured herself on a beach. She felt the warm breeze against one side of her face, arms, and legs. The cool water lapped against her ankles as a wave eddied in. The seagulls soared and dipped overhead, cawing at each other, as though playing tag and calling out who was it.
“In the distance, you see a well-worn path winding its way among the sand dunes,” Miss Jasmine said and there before Jamie was the pathway just as described. Mrs. Jasmine’s voice faded into the background, and Jamie could no longer discern what was being suggested to her and what was a product of her imagination. Nor, for the first time, did she care.
She trudged up the steep dune, the warm sand drying her feet. As she crested the hill, she discovered a thick growth of gnarly trees, stunted by the sea breeze and sandy soil. The path disappeared among the trees, and Jamie followed it into the cool shade. A carpet of soft, green moss covered the ground beneath the trees. For just an instant, Jamie wondered if the moss was Mrs. Jasmine’s idea or her own subconscious, but the thought evaporated as her bare feet touched the velvety softness of the moss.
She continued along the path as it wound through the trees, experiencing a vague feeling of déjà vu. I’ve been here before, she thought. Was that in a previous medi
tation or a previous life? The thought surprised her. Had she had previous lives? She let go of the thought as she remembered what Miss Jasmine had said. “Don’t worry about what you may or may not find. Just play.”
Jamie skipped along the path, enjoying the feel of the soft natural carpet. It was cool beneath the thick foliage of the trees. Cool, shady, and quiet. Her breathing slowed as she sunk deeper within herself. She lost all sense of time, and she felt like she could walk along the pathway forever. Suddenly, it occurred to her that perhaps she had been walking the path all along. Maybe those thoughts of the classroom, teachers, and special powers were the dream. She was no longer sure, and she no longer cared.
So, rested and at peace with herself, Jamie almost missed the tiny side path. Partially hidden by the thick overgrowth, her eyes caught a flash of color—wildflowers lining a much narrower path. She pushed through the brambles, unsure at first if this was another path or just a figment of her imagination, then giggled as she remembered it was all imagined. Or was it?
As she strolled along this new path, it widened and the limbs above her gave way to reveal open sky. The wildflowers dotting the green moss grew thicker until they eventually replaced the moss entirely. The petals cushioned her feet and the pollen her feet kicked up tickled her nose. As Jasmine continued along the path, she felt lightheaded. The feeling continued to spread down through her body. By the time it reached her feet, she felt as though they barely touched the ground.
She took a deep breath of fragrant air, feeling like she was inhaling helium. As the lightness increased, each step grew farther and farther apart until finally she wasn’t touching the ground at all but floated a good two feet above the bed of flowers. Soon, floating was as natural as walking had been moments before, and it seemed odd to think she had once found walking natural.
She floated down the path, enjoying the new sense of freedom that came with conquering gravity. She heard the sound of rustling, like dry leaves blowing in the wind, or was it waves crashing on the beach? Had she circled around while in the forest and now approached the water once again? As the sound grew in volume, it changed, no longer sounding like leaves or waves but more like a distant crowd cheering for their home team. No, not for the home team, but for her. She heard her name called and through the many indistinct voices, Mrs. Jasmine’s voice rang true like a crystal bell, pealing in celebration, but of what?
As Jamie concentrated, trying to make out the words, her weight slowly returned and her feet gently settled on the carpet of flowers. But as they touched down, the carpet melted away, as did the forest, and she found herself back in the classroom with everyone crowding around, congratulating her and patting her on the back. She opened her eyes to see Mrs. Jasmine’s beaming face.
“You did it, girl. You broke through. I’ve never seen or heard anyone float so high. I bet you were three feet in the air.
Mrs. Elwood, standing next to her laughed. “I’ll say you’ve never seen anyone float so high. No one ever has.”
Are you sure?” Miss Jasmine and Jamie asked in the same breath. “You mean Jamie broke the record?” Miss Jasmine finished.
“In a manner of speaking.” Mrs. Elwood laughed again. “The biggest record of all.”
“What are you saying?” Jamie asked. As she did so, she looked around her and was startled to see several grownups she had never seen around the school. Most of them wore long white coats and were pounding each other on the back as if they had broken the levitation record.
“Jamie, listen carefully. You too, Miss Jasmine.” Mrs. Elwood looked from one to the other. “Jamie is the first human being ever to levitate. All the other times were tricks—hoaxes to make you believe it was possible. No one has ever levitated, or seen the future, or thrown their thoughts to another. You’re the first. You’ve had the biggest breakthrough of the entire human race. Congratulations, Jamie.”
“What on earth are you talking about?” Miss Jasmine asked, her facial expression revealing that she was as stunned as Jamie, who was still unable to find the use of her voice. “Why, just a few weeks ago, Peter Higgins broke through.”
Mrs. Elwood shook her head, smiling knowingly. “Hoax. A trick performed with magnets. All the other breakthroughs were performed for Jamie and the dozen or so other late bloomers in the other labs…excuse me, classrooms.” Mrs. Elwood turned to her fellow teacher. “You were our last hope, Miss Jasmine. We didn’t know what else to do. We had tried everything else. The project was running out of money, and Congress threatened to end our funding. So, we tried a desperate move. Under hypnosis, we convinced you that all this elaborate charade was true. We figured that maybe, just maybe if we had a teacher who really believed that levitation was possible, then it would make a difference for the student. Obviously, we were right for once.”
“You mean, I’m the first?” Jamie asked, finally finding her voice. “I’m not a late bloomer at all?”
“Hardly. You the highest ranking of all the children in the program. All your psychological tests indicated you had the greatest potential. We invented the term, late bloomer, so you wouldn’t lose hope as you watched all the other children get ahead of you. We needed them to appear to excel to give you motivation; to convince you such breakthroughs were possible without their successes demoralizing you.”
“But what if I can’t do it again?” Jamie asked.
A cloud of doubt flashed across Mrs. Elwood’s face for a moment before it cleared again. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. The first time is always the hardest. It may take awhile, but you’ll be able to do it again. Now that we’ve proven it’s possible, funding will never be a problem again.”
Jamie nodded. Mrs. Elwood was probably right. The first time was always the hardest. She remembered reading about evolution and how at some point there had been the first fish that had dragged itself out of the water and onto land. At the time, she thought it must have been a tough trip for the fish. Now she understood why she had felt that way. She and the fish had a lot in common.
Dog's Best Friend
The short-legged beagle gazed from her vantage point at the two humans at the bottom of the hill. The high-pitched voice, which seemed to originate from her inner ear caught her by surprise again. She cocked her head to one side in puzzlement.
Let's move in closer so we can hear what they are saying. Okay?
The idea or command, she couldn't quite decide which it was, didn't make much sense to her. She seldom understood what humans were saying unless it was "outside", "eat", or "go lie down”, but she obeyed the voice anyway. As she crept down the hill pulling herself along by her front legs, the voices of the two young humans became more audible. How strange. She understood every word they were saying. Come to think of it, a lot of strange things had been occurring lately, not the least of which was the voice she kept hearing from within. Or was it a voice? It almost seemed like a little master inside telling her what to do. Very much like her young human master had done. She had to admit, so far all the suggestions or orders had been sound advice. She'd been on her own now for several days. She couldn't be sure how many, and yet she hadn't missed a meal or been forced to sleep in the rain. Each time she needed something the voice came to her rescue. It was pleasant company.
The voices of the men were very clear now. She stopped to listen.
"Let's put them in the pen for this evening, Pete. We'll tag them in the morning. It's already close to six, and epidemic or not, if I don't get home soon, Susie will skin me."
"Sounds good to me. I'll just mark on the cage these are the coronavirus dogs, so Dr. Jerome will know they're here when he arrives in the morning. He's been waiting all week for this shipment."
"You know, Pete, he shouldn't have any trouble figuring out what dogs these are. Most of them are in pretty bad shape."
"I know what you mean, and these are the survivors. Dr. Jerome will be isolating the virus from their blood or bone marrow, something like that for the new vaccine. In other words, de
spite what these dogs look like, they're valuable pooches. That is, if we can get the new vaccine on the market in time."
The beagle felt a flea crawling towards her left ear. Just as she started to lift her rear paw to relieve the irritation, the voice piped in, Let's not do that right now. We don't want to be discovered. The paw hung in mid-air for a moment, then dropped back to the ground. The voice continued. Tell me what you know about this coronavirus, Small One. It took the dog a moment to realize the voice was talking to her again. She searched her memory for a few moments and was amazed to find she did remember. In fact, she remembered quite a bit more than she thought she was capable of. Let's see, there had been a dog next door, the fancy show bitch with the haughty gait. She had suddenly taken ill after returning from one of her shows. She’d had the runs something awful. They had taken her away, somewhere, probably to the vets. They usually did that whenever she had the slightest sniffle. This time was different though. She had never returned.
And vaccine? What is a vaccine? the voice asked.
How should I know, the beagle started, then stopped. The word had a familiar ring now that she thought about it. Yes, now I know. At my vet. Vaccines are shots. I get one every so often. He says... She paused for a moment, trying to remember. She had never been good at remembering before, but lately she was getting much better at it. He says they're for my own good, but they hurt, especially the one he gives in the rear. A vivid mental picture of her last trip told the voice all it needed to know.
After a few more questions, the voice suggested, Why don't we go join those dogs in the pen. After the humans leave, I'll show you how to climb the fence. Trust me. I think we've found a new home.
Hunt Along the Iron River and Other Timeless Tales Page 10