I walked into the school library filled with anxiety. The morning had passed with a blur. I couldn’t shake my dream. I couldn’t shake the screaming. I don’t think the screaming was really there, but I kept hearing it so faintly resonating from my dream.
I had gotten what is called a library pass. A library pass meant that I could go to the library instead of sit in study hall and do nothing.
I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, but I knew the library had resources that could hopefully help me in my search. The library was quite large. The walls were covered in the same dark oak wood paneling as the main hall. When you looked straight forward you were greeted by a wall of windows that was two floors high. A balcony ran along the one side of the library with a great wood railing. There were wood tables with those green lamps and study cubicles spread around. On the walls there were these giant wood carvings and large colorful murals, all of which were artfully crafted. I looked up and there were two rows of chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.
I looked back down and underneath the windows was a row of computers. I was pretty sure that’s where I was going to start. There was an unoccupied computer at the end, so I walked over, placed my bag on the ground and slipped into the chair. I hit the enter button and the screen lit up. Two boxes that said password and ID looked at me. I drummed my fingers on the table and looked around. I wasn’t quite sure what to do. To the best of my knowledge I had neither of those. I scanned the library and spotted a kid next to the circulation desk. He was flipping through books on a metal push cart. It looked like he might have been putting them away.
Perhaps he could help me, I thought. I pushed back my chair, stood up and walked across the library towards him, going around the obstacles of kids sitting with their chairs pushed out to far from the tables and backpacks on the ground. The kid putting away the books had a head loaded with shaggy brown hair that flipped up at the ends. He was pretty lanky looking and stood kind of bent over. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was examining the books or if he just had awful posture.
“Excuse me,” I said.
He turned around holding a hardback book in his hand. He wore small thin plastic framed glasses and a brown plaid shirt that looked like it belonged to a cowboy. “Mmm,” he huffed.
“I was wondering if you could help me.”
“Whadya need?”
“The computer,” I said. “It needs a password and ID number.”
“You don’t have one?” He asked placing the book he was holding onto the metal cart.
“I don’t think so.”
“You’ve never used the computers for class?” He asked sounding suspicious of me.
“No, it’s only my second day here.”
“Oh, okay. It’s pretty simply. The username is your first initial and last name and the ID is your student ID.”
I nodded. “How do I get my student ID?”
The shaggy haired kid smiled. “Where are you sitting?” He asked.
I pointed to my seat. We both walked over and I sat down. He told me to get out my schedule because that’s where I would find my student ID. He helped me log on and then I inquired about the internet.
“You tellin me you never used the internet before?” A look of shock and amazement covered his face.
I shook my head no.
“Where are you from?” He asked crossing his arms around his torso.
“About a mile and a half down the street.”
He let out a little laugh and showed me what to do. I didn’t know it was so simple. To my sisters and me the internet was almost a new fangled invention. We had a computer, but all we had was a word processing program. Before that day I had never been on the internet. It was starting to dawn on me how sheltered we really were. I was supposed to be looking for information on my mother, but I knew absolutely nothing about her, so I figured maybe I would start with our father. We lived with him and still yet knew nothing about him. I wasn’t even too sure what he did. I knew it had to do with science and research and that was about all I had, so in the search box on the computer screen I typed in Dr. Reginald Schlobohm. A whole list of stuff came up. I found the one that linked to the university he worked at. He was under the research in bio-engineering department. The Clark Institute for Bio-engineering it was called. He was professor and lead researcher. He was also on the committee for genetics and also involved with a place called the Pearlson Research Center. I read on and it seemed pretty much he was researching genetic modification. I did a search on what genetic modification meant and it seemed he was in the business of designer babies. His research made way for parental gene selectmen. He made it possible, so people could hand pick what their babies would be like. I was quite taken aback by what I found out. That was what Elizabeth must have meant by saying he was a professor of blasphemy. She must have somehow known.
Besides that I didn’t find anything that seemed relevant.
I went back to the page with all the search results. On the top of the computer screen it said pictures of Dr. Reginald Schlobohm, so I clicked on what looked like a group photo of a bunch of scientists because they all had on lab coats. I read underneath the photo and it said 2005 bio-engineering research conference, nothing very exciting. I scanned the picture and found my father standing in front with a smug look on his face.
I went back and looked at a couple other pictures and found nothing very compelling. Then in the search box I typed in photos of Dr. Reginald Schlobohm and the year Elizabeth was born. I found one that was from a medical journal. It had all the researchers from our father’s university. I found my father. Then I found somebody I wasn’t expecting. It looked like a very young Mr. Carl. I thought Mr. Carl was only twenty-five or something, boy was I off. Perhaps I was wrong, but I needed that picture to show my sisters. It wasn’t any proof of our mother, but it showed that lies were being told.
I got up and went to look for the shaggy haired kid. I found him shelving books in the fiction K-L aisle. “Um, excuse me,” I called to him once again.
He looked up and smiled at me from underneath his hair.
“I need a picture from the computer,” I said thinking I probably sounded very stupid. I was probably the only teenager who couldn’t print a picture from the internet. He stopped what he was doing and followed me. I sat in my seat and he bent over and showed me what to do. “That too seems pretty simple,” I said noticing how easy it was.
“It is.” He peered at me through his lenses. “You know, I’m just here to shelve the books.”
“Oh,” I uttered thinking how I kept pestering him.
“It prints over there.” He pointed to the printer at the other end of the row of computers.
“Well, thank you for assisting me,” I replied thinking I should be courteous since he did help me.
“Are you from this decade?”
“Excuse me?” It took me a second to realize what he was referring to.
“You’re too polite. It’s not normal.”
“Really?” I was a little confused.
“N seriously, you’ve never used the internet before.”
“I guess that does seem a little peculiar. Let’s just say I don’t get out much.”
“You’re telling me.” He looked up at the wall where a large brass clock hung. “Well, I got to go finish up before the bell rings.”
“Thanks.”
He nodded and walked off.
I picked up my bag and went and got my picture from the printer. I looked at it and underneath in tiny print everybody’s name was listed row by row. For Mr. Carl it read, “Intern; Carl Williams.” I folded the paper in half and put it in a zipper pocket on the inside of my messenger bag.
………………………………
Isabelle, Clarissa and I all sat on my bed. I pulled out the paper with the picture on it. “I don’t know what this means to us or if it will help at all, but look at this,” I said holding out the paper.
Clarissa took it from me a
nd scanned her eyes over it. “Okay there’s our father. Much younger father and wait, is that who I think it is?”
“What,” Isabelle asked snagging the paper from Clarissa’s hands. She squinted at it. “Is that Mr. Carl?” She sounded perplexed.
“Sure is.”
Clarissa twirled the end of her hair around her finger. She had it pulled up in a pony tail. “So he’s way older than we thought,” she said speculating. “And he seemed to omit this part of his life.” She stopped and looked at me. “But why?”
“I don’t know. Why wouldn’t our father or Mr. Carl tell us that they work together or Mr. Carl works for our father or whatever?” I asked looking at Clarissa.
“I have the slightest idea,” Clarissa said stretching her legs out and sticking her feet on me.
“Neither do I, but they’ve been lying.”
Isabelle studied the picture. “Did you really look at this?” She asked.
“I guess, why?”
“See this woman in the middle row,” she observed pointing at the picture with her pinky, an odd habit that she had. For some reason she didn’t have faith in her pointer finger. “Who does she look like?”
I looked at the picture and then I took it from her. “Holy crap I didn’t even notice. Does she kind of resemble us?”
“What!” Clarissa shrieked snatching the paper from me.
And Isabelle was right. The woman in the middle row, second from the end on the left hand side looked like us but older. If you did one of those age progression things on us you probably would have gotten a picture of that woman. And what was the luck that some random picture I pulled off the internet would have a woman who looked like us, oh, and not to mention she knew our father. On the bottom it said her name was Grace Fernando. I thought it was the loveliest name in the world. She had the same Asian facial features as us and pale white skin. We didn’t know if it was a coincidence that she resembled us or if it was more, but I knew my mission the next day during study hall was to look up Grace Fernando.
…………………………….
That evening I had another dream. The screaming was there and so was the darkness, but this time it was damp like a basement and somebody else was with me. I think it was Elizabeth maybe. That’s all I was able to recall from it and I was once again left with the lingering screaming and anxiety.
Chapter Four
I was really enjoying school, despite the lingering anxiety from my dreams and everything else. It was our third day. I didn’t really talk to anybody, but it was nice just being around other people. In literature that day, Lawrence, formerly Mr. Russo, talked to me a lot before class and even after class. I just nodded in response because he was going on and on about some science fiction movie characters and stuff. He told me how he took a quiz online and he was most similar to the character of Gwar Czar or something and it totally surprised him because he really didn’t think he was like that. I just nodded some more.
During study hall I went to the library again to use the internet. I needed to find out more about Grace Fernando. All the computers under the windows were taken and I didn’t know if there was any more anywhere. Shaggy hair kid was there again. He was sitting behind the circulation desk staring at a computer screen. He had the tip of his pointer finger in his mouth and looked like he was deeply concentrating. His eyes were fixed on the screen and didn’t seem to move. I didn’t want to interrupt him, but I really needed to use the internet again.
“Excuse me,” I said softly.
He took his finger out of his mouth and held it up, so I patiently waited. About ten seconds later he looked up. “Oh, it’s you again.”
“And I see that it is you.”
He smiled. His right bicuspid, or canine tooth if you will, caught the edge of his bottom lip. “What did you need?”
“Are there any other computers besides the ones over there?”
He looked in the direction of the computers. “No that’s all. You know you can sign in at the computer lab if there’s not a class in there.”
“Oh, I don’t have time for that now. This is very important.”
“Research paper?”
“Something like that.” I paused and looked back at the computers and hoped somebody had gotten up. “Shoot.” I drummed my fingers on the circulation desk.
“Need to use the internet?”
I nodded.
“Do you want me to look something up for you?”
I just wanted to jump over that counter and give him a hug. “That would be fantastic.”
I asked him to search the name Grace Fernando. Barely anything came up besides blocked x-rated sites. My face instantly dropped.
“Well, who is she. Is this for a paper?”
“No,” I said. “It’s somebody I’m looking for, I think.”
“You think?” He asked me pushing up his glasses with his pointer finger.
“Oh, I honestly don’t know.”
“Do you live near a library? They have computers there too, so if you have to do more searching.”
“I think I do, but that might not work either.”
“What going to the library?”
“You don’t even know the half of it,” I replied in a very sullen tone.
“Is it because you need help? I could meet you there if ya want me to, to help you out,” he volunteered leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.
“I guess I could make something up and phone home. Would it be possible for my sisters to come along?”
“Stuck babysitting, is that what it is?”
“Oh no, they’re teenagers also, but this pertains to all of us.”
“Okay,” he snickered bobbing his head. “My name is Jeremy by the way.”
“Well nice to meet you. I am Charlotte Ann Schlobohm.”
He was snickering again.
I pursed my lips together. I knew what he was trying to contain his laughter about.
“Seriously, where are you from?” He asked.
We made arrangements to meet by the main entrance and we would all take the bus together. He said he lived in that direction anyways, so it wasn’t putting him out or anything. He claimed he really didn’t mind. I had to call Ms. Dunderfeltz and tell her we wouldn’t be home right away. Generally we were expected to be home right after school. Ms. Dunderfeltz was to buzz us in and then we were to stay in and do our homework all night. We didn’t have house keys or anything like that.
……………………………….
Isabelle and Clarissa were waiting for me at the main entrance. I quickly told them that we were going to the library with Jeremy. They knew what it was for, so they were okay with it. I also told them that I called Ms. Dunderfeltz.
I saw Jeremy walking down the hall towards us. He slouched even when he walked. He did a double take when he saw the three of us.
“Triplets?” He asked.
“No, we’re actually each a year apart,” I revealed then introducing him to Isabelle and Clarissa. The four of us left and walked across the expansive front lawn of the school towards the bus stop. We waited for traffic to clear and crossed the street. Our school sat at the corner of an intersection for two busy streets, so there were always cars and trucks and such whizzing by. There were quite a few people at the bus stop, so when the first bus pulled up most of them jammed onto it and we had to wait for the next one. Luckily we only had to wait a couple extra minutes.
We all stood in the back of the bus, there weren’t any available seats. I held onto the pole and looked out the window as we went over a river, passed a boy’s catholic school, a strip mall, a Bewel grocery store and eventually reached our stop. Jeremy pulled the dingy string, but the bus kept going.
“Hey,” he screamed up to the driver. The driver didn’t stop, so we ended up getting off at the next bus stop and walking back in which the direction we came to get to the library. We found a table in the back of the library, threw all our stuff on it and Jere
my took us over to the computers. He sat down in the chair in front of the computer and we grabbed chairs and sat around him.
“Okay,” I said. “Jeremy and I just typed in her name earlier and nothing much came up, so what else can we search under.”
“How about the university,” Clarissa suggested. She had taken to wearing her hair up in a ponytail. Her small way of showing some individuality in our new found world.
“What about Mr. Carl too because he had to of known her, they were in the picture together,” I added trying to make some sense out of the little bit of information that we had.
“That picture you printed yesterday,” Jeremy inquired turning in his seat and looking at us.
“Yes,” I responded.
“So why are we searching for these people?” Jeremy asked raising an eyebrow.
I don’t think any of us wanted to tell him what we were doing or any of our family secrets, but we were going to have to give him some information since he was helping us. “Well, we’re trying to find out information about our mother,” I told him.
“Like what?”
“Who she is, where she is, anything,” I vowed hearing myself sound sad when I said it.
“So, you don’t know her at all?” Jeremy asked scratching his neck.
“No, nothing, not even a name,” Clarissa chirped. “We’ve never had a chance to look before.”
“Oh, that sucks.”
“Why yes it does,” Clarissa responded.
We tried to find information about Grace Fernando under the university and there was absolutely nothing, so then we started to look for Mr. Carl, Dr. Carl Williams as we found out on the university website. He was an associate professor and also a researcher for the university. We took down the university address and found a course schedule and decided that perhaps the next day after school we were going to have to give him a little visit.
Our only problem was getting back home before Ms. Dunderfeltz left for the day. We probably wouldn’t make it. We needed a key. We needed somebody to go and copy the house key for us. I figured maybe Jeremy could help. All Jeremy did was to offer me computer support and we were sucking him right in.
In the Image of Grace Page 3