by Marilyn Kaye
A man sat in one of the armchairs with a newspaper in his hands. He knew this man. He was called ‘Dad’.
The man looked at him. ‘I’m sorry, Paul. It’s just not possible.’
Paul. That was the boy’s name. Not Carter, Paul.
My name is Paul.
He knew what his father was talking about too. Paul had just asked him if they could buy one of the puppies that had been born to their neighbour’s dog.
‘But it’s so tiny, Dad. And Mrs Robbins says he won’t get much bigger.’
His father smiled, but he shook his head. ‘Your mother is allergic to dog hair, Paul. It wouldn’t matter whether the dog was big or small. Your mother can’t visit the Robbins’s house for more than a few minutes. If we had a dog living in this house, even if you kept him in your room, she’d get ill. You wouldn’t want that.’
‘No,’ Paul said. He turned to see his mother standing in the archway.
‘I’m so sorry, sweetie-pie,’ she said. That was her special name for him, ‘sweetie-pie’. He was grateful for the fact that she never used it when any of his friends were around. Not that he had many friends, not yet. They’d just moved here a few weeks ago.
They moved a lot. Every now and then, serious men came to talk to his parents. Soon after that, they would move. Years ago Paul had asked his father who the men were, and why they were always moving. His father told him that the men were from the government, and they were protecting them. They were part of something called a ‘witness protection programme’. His parents had witnessed a crime, and so had Paul, even though he couldn’t remember it. He’d only been four at the time. But ever since then they all had to be protected from the criminals, who had never been caught. His parents told Paul they had nothing to worry about as long as they did what the government men told them to do. And Paul didn’t worry, because he trusted his father and his mother.
Right now though, his mother looked a little worried. But it had nothing to do with criminals.
‘Sweetie-pie, I hope you don’t hate me for this,’ she said.
‘I don’t hate you, Mom,’ Paul replied.
‘I’m going to see a specialist next week,’ she told him. ‘Maybe there’s a new medicine for my allergy.’
‘Thanks, Mom,’ Paul said. ‘But it’s OK, I don’t have to have a dog. How about a couple of gerbils?’
‘That might be just fine,’ his mother said. ‘I’ll ask the doctor.’ She looked at her watch. ‘I need to run to the supermarket before dinner. Paul, could you empty the dishwasher?’
‘Sure.’ He went into the kitchen. Just as he opened the dishwasher door, he heard a knock on the front door. His mother must have opened it, because he heard her cry out.
‘What do you want?’
Then his father’s voice: ‘What do you think you’re doing?’
And then a horrible loud bang, followed by the sound of a body falling down. Then another bang, and another body hit the floor.
A gruff voice muttered, ‘We gotta find the kid.’
Paul heard the footsteps coming down the hall. He knew they wouldn’t find anyone in the bedrooms, and the next place they’d look would be the kitchen. Frantically, he looked around for a place to hide.
He ran into the little pantry and shut the door. But there was no lock to keep the men from opening it, and he could hear them coming.
His parents couldn’t help him. There was no escape. In seconds the men would open the door and shoot him, just as they had shot his mother and his father. Danger – he was in terrible danger. There had to be some way, some way to save himself. If only he could become invisible . . .
He couldn’t. But he could do something else. He didn’t know he could do it – it just happened, and when it did, it felt like the most completely natural reaction he could have to the situation.
And when one of the men pulled the door to the pantry open, he didn’t see Paul. He couldn’t even see the small gerbil hiding behind a box of cereal.
From way off in the distance came the sound of sirens.
‘The neighbours must have heard the shots,’ a man said. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
From behind the box, Paul waited until he couldn’t hear any voices. Then, slowly, he crept out of the pantry.
How odd the kitchen suddenly seemed to him. Such a big space . . . he knew he could scamper across it but he was afraid to move too quickly. He could imagine the sight he would encounter in the living room, and he wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t ready for anything. Huge structures loomed ominously over him. He knew what they were – a refrigerator, a dishwasher – but his perspective made them frightening. He inched his way across the cold linoleum floor, and he’d almost reached the archway when the door to the living room burst open.
Frantically, he ran behind the stove. Peering out, he saw men in police uniforms. They were holding guns.
If he ran out the way he was, would they shoot him? He couldn’t turn back into himself, not while he was behind the stove – he wouldn’t fit into the space, he’d be crushed. And if he ran out and then transformed, the police might think he was one of the bad guys and kill him.
He heard one of them speak. ‘We need an ambulance immediately.’
Enormous boot-clad feet were directly in front of him. ‘Kitchen’s clear,’ a voice rang out.
Another voice. ‘Bedrooms and bathroom are clear.’
And then another voice. ‘It looks bad. I’m not getting a pulse on either of them.’
Paul knew who they were talking about.
He stayed where he was. Time passed. There were new voices, new sounds.
‘The house wasn’t ransacked. This doesn’t look like a burglary. Someone had it in for these folks.’
‘They must have been pros. We’re not going to find any fingerprints.’
‘Headquarters says don’t touch anything, they’re calling in the FBI.’
‘Why?’
‘No idea.’
‘Can we move the bodies?’
‘Yeah.’
Bodies. Paul knew what that meant. His parents were dead.
He remained behind the stove, and he had no idea how long he was there. There were more voices, more sounds. And then, finally, there was silence.
He came out, and moved into the living room. There were some dark stains on the carpet, and he sniffed them. Blood. His parents’ blood. Vaguely, he wondered why he wasn’t crying. Maybe gerbils couldn’t cry.
And now what was he supposed to do?
CHAPTER SIX
WHEN MADAME RETURNED TO the class, she was visibly excited.
‘Good news, class! I’ve just had a conversation with Doctor Paley. Carter has had a breakthrough. He’s talking!’
‘What’s he saying?’ Tracey asked.
‘He’s just beginning to remember who he is, where he came from. Doctor Paley couldn’t talk long, so I don’t have any details yet.’
‘Is he talking about us?’ Jenna wanted to know.
‘Doctor Paley didn’t say.’ Madame’s eyes swept the room. ‘Class, I know you’re all concerned, not only for Carter but for your own safety as well. And I can understand that. But Doctor Paley is a medical person, a specialist. He accepts the possibilities of abilities that cannot be explained by science. He is a man of integrity. I trust him, and I believe he can help us.’
Jenna wasn’t satisfied with that. ‘But what if Carter starts talking to other people at Harmony House? Some of the kids who stay there are bad news.’
The bell rang. ‘I’ll bring this concern up with Doctor Paley,’ Madame promised as she dismissed them.
As she rose from her desk, Amanda was hoping that Jenna might have forgotten about their after-school plans. No such luck. Jenna made it to the doorway first, and practically blocked Amanda from leaving.
‘Let’s go.’
‘I need to stop by my locker,’ Amanda protested. She didn’t really, but she’d do anything to postpone this adventure. She had a sudden
inspiration. ‘I’ll meet you by the back entrance.’
Jenna looked at her sceptically, but she nodded and took off. Ken joined Amanda, and they walked together to her locker.
‘That’s really cool, what you’re doing,’ Ken said. ‘Are you scared?’
‘A little nervous,’ Amanda admitted. ‘I don’t know if it’ll work. And even if I can take someone over, I always worry about being able to get back into myself.’
‘Want me to come along with you guys?’
Of course, she would love to have him come along, but she knew it wasn’t a good idea. Jenna would only entertain him with tales of Amanda’s selfishness.
She smiled sweetly. ‘It’s so nice of you to offer, Ken. But if you’re there, it might make it harder for me to take over someone.’
‘Why?’
This was risky, but she had to take a chance. She lowered her eyes demurely. ‘Because I have to concentrate really hard to do it. And if you’re there . . . well, it might be hard to concentrate on anyone else.’
Was she coming on too strong? She cast a sidelong glance at him. It was hard to say, but she could swear she saw a little blush creep up his face. Then he smiled. Unfortunately, he wasn’t looking at her any more.
‘Hi, Nina.’
And there she was, the frenemy, waiting by Amanda’s locker. Like a cat, waiting for a mouse and ready to pounce.
Nina acted like she was happy to see both of them, but Amanda knew a performance when she saw one.
‘Hi, guys!’ Nina chirped. ‘Have you seen how nice it is outside? It’s like summer! I am so totally up for an ice cream. Who wants to come with me?’
Amanda rolled her eyes. Nina never ate ice cream. She was one of those idiots who never consumed anything nice, for fear it might add an ounce to her scrawny frame.
And to make matters worse, Jenna chose that precise moment to appear. ‘Are you ready to go?’ she asked Amanda.
Amanda should have known Jenna wouldn’t wait long by the back door. She was probably worried Amanda would sneak out of the front entrance. Which was exactly what she had been considering.
Nina, of course, was staring at Jenna with her mouth open. Amanda didn’t have to be a mind-reader to know what was going on in her so-called friend’s head. The notorious goth girl had plans with Queen Beeson?
‘Class project,’ Amanda offered by way of explanation. She raised her hand in a casual salute to the others. But inside she was tormented as she left Ken alone with Nina to get ice cream.
Was Nina really a threat? OK, she was cute, but Amanda knew she herself was cuter. Looks weren’t everything, though. And Nina did have something Amanda didn’t have. Nina was normal. She didn’t have any weird gift to deal with. Ken wanted to be normal. Would he be intrigued with the notion of hanging out with a normal girl?
Of course, she said nothing about this to Jenna. Not that Jenna would care. As soon as they were out of the building, she started to give instructions.
‘We’ll take the bus to City Hall and walk from there. There are usually three or four new admissions to Harmony House every day, and we can check them out in the reception area.’
‘Whatever,’ Amanda mumbled. They crossed the street and went to the bus stop.
Jenna continued. ‘It’s important that you’re very careful about whose body you take over. Boys and girls live in separate sections, so it’s best to pick a boy. You’ll be able to hang around Carter more. If you’re a girl, you’ll only be able to see him in the dining hall, the TV room and the game room. You won’t be able to get into Carter’s room.’
Amanda tried to tune her out. Blah, blah, blah . . . She didn’t want to listen to Jenna’s instructions. All she could do was concentrate on blocking Jenna from hearing her own thoughts, mainly the thought that she did not want to be doing this at all.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE BOY FORMERLY KNOWN as Carter Street had been in Dr Paley’s office for hours now. This was the third time he’d watched the video and listened to himself tell his story under hypnosis, but it wasn’t getting any easier for him. He still couldn’t get used to the sound of his voice. He sounded so normal – even if the story he told wasn’t ordinary at all.
‘I didn’t know where to go. I stayed at home.’
From off screen, the voice of Dr Paley could be heard. ‘Why did you choose to be a gerbil?’
‘It was the first thing that came to my mind, because I’d just asked my mother about getting a gerbil.’
‘Where you shocked to realize you could do this?’
‘No. It felt natural. I had to be something very small to hide.’
‘How did you survive?’ Dr Paley asked. ‘Were you able to eat anything?’
‘I found some crumbs behind the stove. That was a surprise. My mother was always sweeping the floor.’
‘Where did you sleep, Paul?’
That name . . . He’d completely forgotten it. It still wasn’t familiar, but strangely enough, it sounded right.
‘The bottom drawer of my chest of drawers was open. I was able to jump in and sleep on a sweater.’
‘How long did you stay in the house?’
‘I don’t know. I couldn’t see a clock. I couldn’t even tell if it was day or night.’
‘Why did you leave?’
So many questions . . . Paul watched his own face on the screen. He looked tired, but he kept on talking.
‘Some people must have come. I heard them close the drawer of the chest of drawers. I could feel it moving. I couldn’t get out. I was in a dark place with no food. I was hungry.’ He stopped talking, and Paul could see that his body had begun to tremble.
‘Keep talking, Paul. What happened next?’
‘The chest of drawers stopped moving. It was in another place – a cold place. I got hungrier and colder. Then the drawer was opened. I was weak, but I got out of the drawer. People must have seen me – someone yelled, someone threw something at me. I was surprised. I thought people liked gerbils. They keep them as pets.’
‘Yes, yes, but perhaps they were startled because they didn’t expect to see a gerbil in a storage unit. Then what did you do?’
‘I got away, I was outside. But it was still cold, and I was so hungry. I became a boy again.’
‘And that was when you were found,’ Dr Paley said.
‘I guess so.’
‘Why didn’t you say anything?’
‘I turned myself off.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Like a TV. I was off.’
There was a moment of silence. Then he heard Dr Paley’s voice again, only this time it wasn’t from the screen. The real Dr Paley was in the room, and he’d paused the videotape.
‘You’ve been turned back on now, Paul.’ The doctor moved his chair so he could be directly facing him. ‘I’ve done some research on your family. You were four years old when you and your parents witnessed an act of organized crime in New York – a murder. Your parents testified against the criminals, and that put their lives in danger. Your life was in danger too. You couldn’t testify but you were still a witness. So the government put your family in a witness protection programme. Your name was changed and you were moved to another city. But the crime syndicate discovered your whereabouts and you were moved again, and then again. You have a memory of many homes, don’t you?’
Paul nodded. In his mind he saw a small house, a large house, a hotel, an apartment. He dimly recalled many times when his parents were talking quietly, worriedly, and then abruptly falling silent when he entered the room. They must have tried so hard to keep him from feeling the danger they were all in.
‘It wasn’t easy tracking you,’ Dr Paley continued. ‘Your name was changed many times. Your birth name was Paul, but you’ve been called Daniel, Sam and Jonathan. It was in your last home that your parents went back to your original name, Paul.’
So that was why Paul sounded natural, but not familiar. A lot of things were making sense now.
&nbs
p; ‘And your last names – you’ve been Fletcher, O’Malley and Kingston. Do you have a preference for one over the other?’
Paul shook his head.
‘Well, I don’t want to give you a name that the criminal syndicate might recognize. How about if we call you Paul Carter?’
Paul nodded.
‘How do you feel, Paul?’
Feel – the word made more sense now. He could remember feelings. He remembered feeling excited on the roller coaster. He remembered feeling happy when he made it all the way round the baseball diamond. He remembered feeling disappointed when he learned he couldn’t have a dog.
And he remembered horror, terror, when those men killed his parents. He remembered feeling frightened.
He was still frightened. He didn’t have to speak – Dr Paley must have read it in his expression.
‘You’re scared, aren’t you?’
Paul nodded.
‘You have a gift, Paul,’ Dr Paley said. ‘Just like your classmates. How does that feel, knowing you have a gift?’
It was hard trying to decide what to say about that, and even harder actually saying it. He managed to get some words out. ‘I . . . don’t . . . know.’
‘Do you feel good?’
That wasn’t the word. Paul shook his head.
‘Are you afraid of your gift?’
That was closer to what he felt. Paul nodded.
‘Don’t be,’ Dr Paley said. ‘I can help you.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE BUS ARRIVED, AND Amanda reluctantly followed Jenna up the steps. Now that they were among other people, Jenna lowered her voice. ‘Remember to keep an eye on the resident assistants. When I was there, a real goon tried to blackmail me. He’s been fired, but there might be other creeps around. Don’t trust anyone.’
Amanda fumbled in her bag and pulled out her iPod. Without even looking at Jenna, she stuck the plugs in her ears and turned it on. Jenna glared at her, but Amanda closed her eyes.
She wasn’t lying when she admitted to Ken that she was a little nervous. She knew she was getting better and better at body-snatching, but there was always the chance something could go wrong. She could get stuck being a juvenile delinquent forever. But this would definitely impress her classmates. Nobody could call her selfish again.