by J. M. Pierce
Leaning forward in his chair, Iku began to speak but was quickly cut off by Prim.
“One minute, Iku,” he said cautiously with his right hand extended to the former Reaper. Prim turned to Test and took a deep breath. “How have you been doing?” he asked.
Test’s neck craned and his face twisted in confusion. “Fine,” he replied.
Prim glanced to Alyssa and Cliff to see what their reaction to his question was. Alyssa’s eyes looked blank and nervous, while the old man’s eyes were locked upon Test, anxiously awaiting the reply.
“Test,” said Prim, “What Iku is about to tell you will be upsetting. It is more important now than we ever realized before that you remain in control of yourself.” Test’s eyes glassed over and Prim had his doubts as to whether he should continue. “So, I’ll ask you again. How have you been doing?”
With a flip of his hand, Test replied defensively. “I’ve been fine. Ask either of them,” he said, motioning to Alyssa and Cliff.
Cliff nodded his head and replied with a stoic face. “It’s true. Not that he don’t have the demons comin’ at him now and again, but he hasn’t had an outburst for a good long while.”
Prim studied the old man’s face for a minute and then, clasping his hands, turned to Iku and nodded.
With a sharp inhale and exhale, Iku spoke. “The last time I saw the boy, he looked like someone I knew, but I just couldn’t place it at the time. It took me a week or so to realize what I now know to be true.” Iku glanced to Prim who once again nodded his approval. “Test, when you were captured, the scientists took tissue samples from you, didn’t they?”
Test replied softly. “Yes.”
With only the faintest of hesitation, Iku let the words flow before his mind could have a chance to second guess. “From the DNA that they took from you, they have created this boy.”
The air suddenly seemed to be sucked from Test’s lungs. He found it hard to breathe and his heart rate began to increase. Just as a glow of energy had begun to show through his shirt, he felt Alyssa’s touch on his scalp.
“Stay calm. Hear him out,” she whispered as she bent down and kissed his forehead.
Test took several deep breaths, but it was Alyssa’s touch that soothed him. Still, he found it hard to catch his breath. Trying to focus his thoughts, he closed his eyes and rubbed his face with both hands. “Okay,” he said, his voice muffled beneath his palms. “Does he have powers yet?”
Relieved that Test was showing a growth in his ability to compose himself, Prim replied. “Surprisingly—no.”
Dropping his hands to his lap, Test looked back and forth between Prim and Iku. “How is that possible if he’s a clone? Doesn’t that mean he’s identical to me?”
“We don’t have all of the answers,” replied Iku. “It is obvious by the growth rate of the child that they have introduced something different into the boy’s genetic code. Perhaps that is what is slowing the appearance of his powers?”
“Maybe the boy will never get them?” interjected Cliff.
Iku looked to the old man and lowered his head. “You are correct. That is a possibility. But what if his powers are just delayed and he is to become just as powerful as Test?” Iku looked at each face in the room. None of them said a word. “Having been raised by the twins,” he continued, “the possibility for disastrous things to happen is high.” Again Iku looked at each face.
After several moments of silent reflection, Alyssa asked in a tentative voice, “So what do we do now?”
Standing from the couch, Test thrust his thumbs into his short pockets. In a confident and determined voice, he replied. “We get answers.”
CHAPTER 9
The sound of a child screaming would normally have been satisfying to hear; however the sound of this particular scream sent shivers down Ashley’s spine. Her heart rate exploded, as did the swell of energy from within; streaking flashes of red light illuminated the dark hallway as she reached Destin’s bedroom door.
Turning the knob, she felt the vibrations suddenly stop. She opened the door to find Destin on the floor, curled up on his side in a fetal position while holding his chest. Lying on the floor in front of him was a pool of liquefied plastic that had already begun to harden. She could tell that it was the remains of his favorite monster truck toy just by the color.
While he lay on the floor moaning and whimpering, still holding his chest, she knelt beside him.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Through a series of huffed breaths, he replied in a pained and panicked voice. “Something’s wrong with me.” He gripped his t-shirt in his fist and rubbed his chest in a circular motion several times. “I don’t know what happened.”
With little comfort in her voice, Ashley took the boy by the shoulders and sat him down on his behind. “This is what we’ve been waiting for, Destin,” she said. “You’re powers are coming.”
With a tear rolling down his cheek, he looked up to her while loosening the grip on his shirt. “It hurts,” he replied.
Though Ashley didn’t remember any pain accompanying the onset of her own powers, it had been so long ago that she thought it possible she just forgot. “It won’t last,” she replied confidently.
She watched as Destin looked down to the now hardened pool of plastic that once was his favorite toy. “Do you know what happened?” he asked.
Ashley thought for a moment. She’d been anticipating this conversation for months, but now that it had arrived she couldn’t focus her mind on the proper response. Instead of speaking, she thought she’d just show him.
Reaching out her right hand to the closed closet door on the other side of the room, she stoked the fire inside and opened the door to the closet. There, on the closet floor, rested a pile of toys. On top of the pile was a dump truck that she had stolen for Destin the week before. Taking the truck into her grasp, it floated effortlessly across the room and came to rest on the floor in front of her. With her fingers spread wide, she held her palm over the truck and allowed the energy within her to swell. From beneath her black tank-top, the bright red glow of energy beamed and sent bolts of red down the lengths of her arms. An electric blue glow had begun to emanate from her palms and she watched as the truck began to dance beneath it. With a quick glance to Destin, whose eyes had grown wide and fearful, she looked back to the truck and pushed a powerful surge of energy from her torso, causing the room to erupt into a white hot flash of light.
When the blinding light faded, she looked to Destin who sat with his face buried into his knees. She pushed his legs to get him to look, but he tucked in even tighter.
“Did you see it?” she asked. With his face glued to his knees, he nodded his head. “This is just a small part of your power, Destin.”
Slowly the boy revealed a single eye as he looked at her. “But I didn’t mean to,” he said meekly.
Ashley giggled and pushed his legs once more, but before she could speak, Casper’s voice came from the doorway.
“You were mad at me, weren’t ya?” he asked.
Casper watched as Destin lifted his head slightly, looked to him, and nodded. Finding great amusement in the boys anguish, Casper began to laugh.
“That’s good!” he shouted. “Maybe now you won’t be such a little wimp.”
Destin turned to Ashley. She could see that Casper’s comment did nothing but confuse him further. Glaring at Casper, she spoke to the boy. “What Casper means is that your anger fuels your powers. We Reapers,” she pointed to each of them in the room, “are never more powerful than when we are angry. It is the greatest gift that has been given to us.” Destin turned to place his forehead on his knees, but she quickly pinched his chin between her fingers and pulled his face back to hers. “This,” she said firmly pointing at the pool of melted plastic in front of the boy. “This is a good thing. This happened to us, too, when we were younger. This is how your powers present themselves. Do you understand?”
Destin again nodded his head, but t
he reality was that he didn’t understand anything that was happening. From the first time he could remember seeing Ashley and Casper use their powers, he was jealous and wanted to be able to do the same things. Now he was scared.
“Does it hurt every time?” asked Destin.
“No,” replied Ashley.
The room became silent for a moment before Ashley stood and motioned for Destin to do the same.
“Put your pillow on the bed,” she said motioning to a bright yellow pillow that rested on the floor behind Destin.
He instinctively began to reach around with his right arm.
“No!” shouted Ashley.
Casper stood in the doorway biting his lip, enjoying himself as the boy squirmed under Ashley’s command.
“But,” began Destin, so confused that he couldn’t even think clearly.
Trying to get a reaction, Ashley cut him off. “Use your power!”
With a sudden burst of frustration, Destin threw his fists down to his side and shouted. “I don’t know how!” The floor beneath him shook as faint red flashes began to pulse down his arms.
Ashley bent down to look him in the eye. “Did you feel that? You’re mad, right?”
Destin only nodded.
“Answer me!” Ashley shouted.
“YES!”
“Then reach your damn hand out to the pillow and move it!”
Destin threw his palm down to the pillow and waited for it to move. Nothing happened.
“Oh, come on!” shouted Casper, taking another step into the room.
Ashley turned and released a pulse, pushing her brother back into the hall and, with her opposite hand reaching out, slammed the door closed inches from his face.
“Okay,” she said, trying to muster the patience to show him. Composing herself had never been easy, but she now realized that she would have to in order to teach the boy. “Let’s settle down for a second, okay?” she asked with a fake smile. “Now, close your eyes.” She looked at Destin and waited for him to obey. When he did not immediately comply, she yelled in a short staccato burst. “Close them!” Instantly the boy’s eyes snapped shut. “Good,” she said in a sickly sweet tone. “Now, visualize taking the pillow into your grasp.” She waited a few seconds. “Are you doing it?” she asked.
“Yes,” replied Destin as he secretly peered at Ashley through his partially opened eyelids.
“Okay, good,” she answered. “Now, open your eyes and do the same thing, only this time do it for real.”
Destin avoided eye contact with her and stared at the pillow. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest and his breath was short. He could feel what he thought was his blood pumping through his arms; they throbbed rhythmically. He looked to them and saw the faint red pulses racing down them towards his hands. Suddenly he realized that each pulse corresponded with the throbbing sensations. He felt his insides surging rhythmically as his chest heaved with each breath. He thought about Casper laughing at him and watched as the pulses grew both in speed and intensity.
Finally, he reached his right hand out to the pillow. He imagined taking it into his hand, just as Ashley had told him to do when his eyes were supposed to be closed. Suddenly, though he wasn’t touching it, he could feel it. He watched as a spot on the pillow depressed as if something were resting on it. He pictured himself gripping it and watched as the material clumped up. As he raised his hand, he could barely compose himself as the pillow lifted from the floor. Higher and higher he lifted his arm; higher and higher the pillow went until it was pressed into the ceiling. He moved his hand to the right and drug it across the ceiling towards the head of the bed. Once it was in position, he dropped his arm and felt the touch of the pillow disappear as it fell on the bed.
His arms tingled and he felt tightness in his chest once again. The pain wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been before, and this made him believe that Ashley was right; the more he used his powers, the less pain he would feel. Regardless of the pain, his excitement overcame all else as he stared at the pillow with a toothy grin.
“How fun was that?” asked Ashley, jarring Destin from thought.
He looked and tried to speak, but his mouth had become very dry. Wetting his lips a couple of times, he answered. “I want to do more.”
Chapter 10
The living room was stuffy and relentlessly tense. Trying to be the wallflower had exhausted and she decided that she needed some space. Leaning over to whisper into Test’s ear as he was speaking with Prim, her voice went nearly unnoticed as she said, “I’ll be right back.”
With a glance and a dismissive nod from Test, she turned and walked through the exterior wall of the living room. She took a quick look around to see if Lauren was still nearby, but she was nowhere to be seen. Part of her was glad, she was ready to be alone, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something more was up with Lauren. The look she’d received when making the pregnancy comment was more than just Lauren’s usual scowl.
Taking one more look around, she headed off into the woods towards the nearby stream. The light played magically through the tree tops as she zipped, quite literally, through the trunks and underbrush beneath.
When she arrived at the streams edge, she stood and scanned the water as it flowed down the mountain to her right. The tall pines that lined both sides of the stream stood over her like a parent protecting their child. They brought her peace. Though she was grateful to be alone, she briefly wished that Test was there so that she could materialize and feel the gentle breeze that was causing the pine needles to shake and glisten in the late morning sun.
As she listened to the water gently babble, she heard a voice in the distance on the other side of the stream. More curious than worried, she walked across the water as though it were earth, and made her way through the trees on the other side.
Maybe seventy-five to one-hundred yards in, she could see movement in a small clearing beyond the trees. As she approached, she could see a man setting up a tent. He was short, maybe five-foot-seven and of a husky build. Standing beside him was whom she presumed to be the man’s wife. She was fair skinned, with light blonde hair and quite thin. With another couple of steps closer, she then saw a little boy standing off to the side as his parents, she assumed, tried to assemble the tent.
He was a precious little thing, maybe six years old, with bright red hair and the slight build of his mother. She moved even closer and watched the boy turn his head in her direction. Even from a distance, his big brown eyes looked like a sad puppy’s. His face nearly made her heart melt. Stopping at the edge of the clearing, she heard his dad use a few curse words and looked to find him buried in the tent. She giggled to herself at the sight. Just as it seemed the mother would step in to help, she stopped herself. Another giggle erupted as Alyssa thought how good of a wife she was to try not to make her husband look like an idiot.
She turned back towards the boy, but he was no longer there. Just as she was about to move forward, she looked down and her heart stopped. There, standing at her feet, was the little boy.
“What’s your name?” he asked in a soft voice.
Alyssa could barely speak, taken aback as she pondered if the boy could really be speaking to her. She looked into his eyes and swallowed heavily.
“Are you talking to me?” she asked.
With his hands shoved into his khaki short pockets, he nodded his head. “Yes.”
Alyssa felt her eyes widen as she glanced to the parents who were still struggling with the tent.
“Are you here to camp with us?” asked the little boy, glancing over his shoulder to his parents.
Stammering, Alyssa replied. “No, honey, I’m afraid not.”
The boy continued to stare, his expression somewhat flat and emotionless.
A moment of silence passed before Alyssa asked, “Do you know I’m…” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the question.
“What?” asked the boy.
The realization that this child may have the s
ame gift that she had when she was alive excited her. She’d never thought about what it was like to be on the opposite side of the interaction. As she opened her mouth to speak, the boy turned and shouted to his parents.
“Mommy, do you know who this is?”
Though she was a spirit, Alyssa could still feel her heart jump up into her throat. Her first instinct was to turn and run, but she ignored it as the parents seemed to ignore their son, acting as though he wasn’t even there.
The boy turned back to her with a pouty lip and a defeated look. “Nobody talks to me anymore,” he mumbled.
Kneeling down to his level, Alyssa forced herself to smile brightly. “Well, I’ll talk to you,” she said. “My name is Alyssa. What’s yours?”
“Aiden Messer,” replied the little boy.
Without thinking, Alyssa held out her hand for the boy to take. “It’s nice to meet you Aiden Messer,” she replied.
To her surprise, he took her hand. She could feel it as if it were flesh. She felt his weak grip squeeze her hand and then suddenly realized…this boy wasn’t a psychic. He was a spirit.
With his tiny hand grasping hers, she rested her free hand on top of it and smiled. “Aiden,” she said sweetly. “Did something happen to you recently, honey? Something bad?”
The little boy looked at her with a wrinkled nose. “No,” he replied. “It’s been a while since anything bad has happened.”
Having spent the majority of her time among the living seeing and speaking to those who had passed, Alyssa had come across several who hadn’t realized that they were spirits. They, however, were all adults and she knew that explaining things to a child would be much more difficult. Still, she knew that he had to be told; otherwise he would never be at peace. “Can you tell me what happened the last time?” she asked.