Shift

by Kim Curran

  I gave Jake a weak thumbs-up of encouragement. He jerked his head in thanks and took his place at the bottom of the first pole. I could see his knees quaking beneath his baggy trousers. He looked as if he might be sick.

  He dragged himself up the pole, eyes clenched shut the whole way. When he made it to the top, he steadied himself, pointed his arms out like a gymnast and leapt.

  Like CP, he went for the fast approach, hopping onto the first and then second pole in a matter of seconds. I had to look away as the slices in reality were making my head spin. Like watching a 3D film without glasses. Jake was a pretty good Shifter, I’d gathered that much from our fight. I wonder if I’d ever have even half the control he had. But even his skills weren’t enough. He screamed as a pole he’d just landed on hurtled upward like a bucking bull and sent him flying into the air.

  “Ha!” CP said, in triumph as Jake landed on the mat. Her smile slowly vanished. Jake wasn’t moving. He laid on the floor his eyes closed and his leg bent at a weird angle. CP was the first to run to him. I watched as she bent over his tiny body. Oh, god, please. Don’t let him be hurt, I thought.

  “Got ya!” Jake shouted.

  “You eejit!” CP said, kicking him in the side. But just like me, I knew she was relieved. Jake crawled to his feet rubbing at his backside.

  “OK, thank you for your performance there, Jake. That’s five poles to beat,” Cain said. “Scott, your turn.”

  My stomach turned to ice as I approached the first pole. I wrapped my arms around it like the others had done and stood there hugging it, my face pressed against the rough wood. I hooked one leg around the pole and then didn’t know what to do next. I didn’t even know how to climb it properly, let alone how to stay alive once I got to the top. The pole made things even harder by jerking into the sky and suddenly I was clinging onto it, three feet off the floor. No going back now. I started to shuffle my way to the top.

  My fingertips reached for the flat surface and I pulled myself up. I’d done a few balancing exercises in kick boxing, but nothing like this. Now I was gazing across the stubby forest of poles, the floor was farther away than I’d imagined. The safety of the raised platform on the other side might as well have been a mile away. I thought about just leaping off the pole and getting it over with. But as I looked down and saw five little faces turned up to watch me, my pride kicked in. I didn’t want to shame myself, not in front of a bunch of kids. Jake gave me a thumbs-up and I returned it.

  The poles hissed up and down. The first one was only a couple of feet away and only a little higher than the pole I was standing on. But the question was, would it still be there when I tried to step on it. I tried to plot a route across to the platform but every time I worked one out, the poles would change position and it would be impossible.

  I then remembered what the whole thing reminded me of. It was like a computer game I used to play, where you had to make it across a crumbling pile of columns before they turned to dust. In the game there had been one clear route that would take you across the chasm. But it took about six goes before you learned the path. And I didn’t have the option to ‘play again?’ here. Or did I? Perhaps that was exactly the way to think about Shifting: it was like getting another go on a computer game. You accepted that you were probably going to fail on your first, even second or third go, but with each attempt, you got a little closer to finishing the level.

  I decided to not even bother trying to work out which way to go on my first attempt and took a step forward.

  My foot landed on the pole perfectly. I’d been lucky. With my next step, I missed it on the first attempt, but Shifted just in time to make it on the second. I jumped forward, focusing not on where I was going as much as holding all the possible places I could be. Before I knew it I was six poles in. A murmur came up from the kids below. Leap, and I was seven poles. Leap, Shift, and it was eight. On pole nine I almost lost focus and it took two Shifts before I was clinging on with my fingertips. The gasps from below fired me on. I took one, big leap, and was standing on the platform. Safe.

  I turned around and looked across the poles. They had stopped moving, as if I had them under my command. I was buzzing with adrenaline and the joy of success. At that moment, I felt as if I could achieve anything. I wanted to go again, only I wanted the poles to be higher. Why not throw some fire jets in for me to dodge while you’re at it?

  The kids all erupted in cheers and Jake was cheering loudest of all. I raised my hand and waved, drinking in their applause.

  Cain was watching me, his shattered face fixed in an expression I couldn’t quite read. But I thought it might just have been approval.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jake walked me to the canteen when the lunch bell rang.

  “That was awesome!” he said, punching the air with his little fists. “You were like, bam, bam, bam and then whooo! Done.” He sighed, out of breath after his overlyenthusiastic recreation of my path across the poles.

  “Beginner’s luck,” I said, trying to keep my swelling head in check.

  “Na-ah,” Jake said. “You totally nailed it.”

  “I did, didn’t I?” I said giving into the bravado. I was enjoying having someone to show off to. It reminded me of when Katie was little and I was still her hero. Before she grew up enough to realise what a loser I was. I wrapped my arm around Jake’s neck and knuckled his hair.

  I heard the clatter of plates and the hum of conversation before we reached the large double doors that led to the canteen. Jake pushed the doors open and the chatter grew even louder.

  The rest of the cadets were in line already. CP was at the front, piling her tray up with food.

  “Jeez,” Jake rolled his eyes. “CP has to be first at everything.”

  “Why is she called CP?”

  “They’re her initials, though I don’t know what they stand for. She doesn’t talk much. Max said he knows, but he tried to tell once and she knocked out his last milk tooth.” I watched him watching her and recognised the expression.

  “You fancy her,” I said, nudging him as we fell into place at the back of the queue.

  “Wha’? No way. Urgh. Like urgh, urgh.” He protested a little too much.

  “Come on, she’s cute. And she’s totally kickass.”

  “Yeah, she’s a pretty good fighter,” he said, dragging the top of his trainer across the parquet flooring. “Guess she’s had a lot of practice.”

  We shuffled a few people closer to the food serving. “What do you mean?”

  “When she first arrived all she did was fight. People made fun of her and her family and she fought.”

  “What’s funny about her family?”

  “She’s a gypsy.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “I never said it was,” he said a little too defensively. “And besides you get loads of Shifters from gypsy families and stuff. It kind of goes with the territory.”

  I remembered my induction from Morgan. “Oh, yeah. Rogues.”

  Jake looked up at me his dark eyes still for a moment. Then he just shrugged.

  We’d arrived at the end of the queue and a burly woman with frizzy hair escaping out of a small white hat smiled at me. “What will it be, love?”

  I scanned the silver trays of food and was surprised to find it all looked pretty decent. Better than anything I’d get at home, that’s for sure. “The lasagne please.”

  She scooped the meaty pasta onto my plate, added a flourish of salad and turned to Jake.

  “Just chips for you, petal?”

  Jake grinned as she piled his plate high with chips.

  I followed him over to the table where the rest of the kids from class were eating, including CP who was sitting at the end on her own. Jake headed for the end away from her, but I wasn’t going to let him get away with it that easily.

  “Is it OK if we join you?” I said, squeezing my legs over the plastic bench attached to the table.

  CP looked
from me to Jake and then nodded, her long fringe falling into her face.

  “You were pretty great back in class. Jake was telling me you’re the best in the year.”

  I heard Jake cough next to me, choking on a chip. I patted him on the back and poured him a plastic cup of water from the jug on the table. CP watched him and smiled a little, her small mouth curling up at the corner.

  “Thanks,” she said softly, the dropped ‘th’ giving away her accent.

  “Are you Irish?” I asked, playing as if I didn’t know anything.

  “I’m from a lot of places.”

  “Yeah, a lot of places that don’t want her back,” Max said from the middle of the table. Some of the kids laughed, but most just carried on with their food.

  “Shut it, Max,” said Jake. “Or she’ll knock the rest of your teeth out.”

  CP’s smile grew bigger.

  I waited, hoping that these two might pick up the conversation on their own. But they were both too busy picking at their food.

  “So your family moved around a lot?” I asked.

  “Yeah, a bit.”

  “Mine too,”’ said Jake. “I went to eight schools before I was eight.”

  “That must have been tough. My parents never made me go to school.”

  “I guess. The lions made up for it though.”

  “The lions?” CP and I said at the same time.

  Jake laughed his loud bark. “My family owned a circus. So we had lions and elephants and couple of zebra but…” He leant forward conspiratorially. “They were really just donkeys painted black and white.”

  CP laughed so much, her water came out of her nose.

  “My sister was a trapeze artist. The best ever. Man, you should have seen her fly through the air, she never fell. Well, even if she did, she’d Shift.”

  “Your sister is a Shifter too?” asked CP, leaning forward and watching Jake intently now.

  “Sure. It runs in families. Wasn’t anyone else in your family a Shifter?”

  “My grandma, or so my cousin told me. Only I never met her. But go on.”

  “Well, I was supposed to join the act, ‘The Flying Baileys’ they were called. But you saw me on the poles. I get dizzy when I stand on a chair. Anyway, before Mum and Dad could work out what to do with me, ARES came along. Mum and Dad didn’t want me to join. But my sister persuaded them it was the best thing. So she stuck around and they carried on with the rest of the circus. And here I am! Ta da!”

  “That sounds cool,” CP said. “I’ve never been to a circus. We went to lots of horse fairs, but they’re probably not the same.”

  “Next time my folks are in town I’ll take you. I’ll give you the whole backstage tour!”

  “I’d like that,” CP said, beaming now.

  I leant back, smiling at my handiwork. Call me Mr Matchmaker.

  “What about your family, Scott? Any Shifters?” Jake said.

  “Me? Ha, no way. Nope, we’re your regular, boring family. The most exciting thing that happened to me before all of this was when we went on a camping trip to Wales and the caravan got washed away.”

  “That happened to one of our caravans,” CP said. “Only it wasn’t washed away, it was blown over in a hurricane.”

  She started telling the story of some great storm. Only I wasn’t really listening. I’d just seen someone enter the canteen.

  Aubrey was dressed in her sharp, blue military jacket. The orange hoodie she had worn beneath it on Friday night was gone, and instead she was wearing a crisp white shirt and matching blue trousers.

  “Sorry, guys. I have to go.” I crawled out from under the table and headed over to her. She was walking head down, as if she didn’t want to make eye contact with anyone, white headphone wires trailing out from her ears. She almost walked into me before she looked up. Her mouth dropped open in shock, and then shut with a loud snap. Her eyes checked the room, as if she was nervous we were being watched. I glanced about. Everyone was tucking into their lunch, busy catching up on the day’s gossip.

  I pointed to my ears. Aubrey’s forehead wrinkled in confusion and then she caught on. She pulled the earphones out and I heard the tinny beats of the track still playing.

  “Kings of Leon?” I asked, recognising the song.

  She nodded. And then got down to business. “You’re here then?”

  “Yep, I’m a card-carrying member of the Fresh Meat brigade. Literally!” I pulled out my ID card as proof, although regretted it as soon as she yanked it out of my hand.

  “Nice photo,” she said, examining it.

  “Yeah, well I don’t photograph well.”

  “I don’t know. They’ve caught your stupid grin perfectly.” She handed my card back with a smile. “I honestly thought they’d lock you up.”

  “Apparently I’m special,” I said, giving her my stupid grin.

  “Special? That’s one word for it.” She raised an arched eyebrow and looked me up and down. “So you’re sure about this, about joining ARES. Because it’s not too late you know. You can always Shift.”

  “No. I’m enjoying it. And I know it was hard for you, what with your Mum’s suicide and all.”

  Aubrey gasped and she swallowed hard. “Her… how did you know about that?’

  “You told me.”

  She stepped in close to me and lowered her voice. “Have you been spying on me?”

  “No, I swear you told me. When we went back to your flat and you made me coffee and you told me about–”

  “I never told anyone about that. Anyone.” She stared up at me, her eyes hopping from one of mine to the other, as if they didn’t match.

  I bit my lip and tried to remember. Aubrey was right. She hadn’t told me about her mother’s suicide, only that she’d died. In this reality anyway. But in the other one, before all the mess with my sister and ARES dragging me in, she had. It was another left-over fragment. Another jigsaw piece that belonged to another puzzle.

  “Aubrey, I–”

  “Goodbye, Scott.” She brushed past me and headed for the counter.

  “Hang on,” I said catching up with her. “I’m sorry. I thought… I thought we were friends.” Of course, I’d been hoping for a little bit more than just friends. But it would do as a start.

  “Look, you’re Fresh Meat.” She indicated the black T-shirt I’d changed into and then tapped the two golden stripes on her arm. “And I’m an officer. And the two don’t mix. It’s just the way it goes. See you around.”

  I watched her walk towards the queue but she must have lost her appetite. She peeled off and headed for the doors, walking so fast her heels clacked on the floor.

  “Do you know that girl?” Jake asked as I returned to the table.

  “In another life,” I said, watching her leave.

  “Do you want a chip?” Jake waved a soggy specimen in my direction.

  I shook my head. I wasn’t hungry any more either.

  I sat beside Jake and the rest of the kids anyway. Fresh Meat together, after all. They babbled about training and quickly moved on to TV programmes. I only vaguely followed what they were talking about. A bell rang, and everyone started packing up.

  “What’s next?” I asked Max who was shoving his last spoonfuls of pudding into his mouth. As he tried to swallow I thought about what essential skills I would need to become an officer. More fighting? Interrogation techniques? Tracking?

  “History,” he said, after gulping down the sponge.

  “History?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The classroom was your perfectly normal classroom. Although the chairs were too small for me and the table kept buckarooing every time I tried to move my legs underneath it. I gave up and sat with my knees to the side. The rest of the class dug out notebooks and chatted excitedly. Not something I’d experienced in a classroom before. The only time there had been any excitement in any of my classes was when someone set someone else on fire.

  The door opened and a tall black man walked
in. All the kids in the class suddenly descended into silence. He turned and nodded at the group. His dark eyes met mine for a fraction of a second and then passed by, clearly finding nothing remarkable about a kid five years too old sitting in his class.

  “Afternoon, class.”

  “Afternoon, Mr Abbott,” the kids chanted in reply.

  I was relieved to see him. Although the memory of our last meeting was starting to fade, I remembered bits of it. Him being kind to me mostly. I was sort of getting used to the mismatched fragments of memories in my head. I knew if I tried too hard to hold on to them, I’d just end up losing a grip on whatever reality I was in now. So I let the thought slide away and focused on what he was saying.

  “Once Shifters have come to terms with their powers, one of the first questions that occurs to many of them is ‘Can we change history? Can we stop atrocity x or tragedy y from happening? Why’ – and many of you may have asked yourself this already – ‘if we can change our reality do we allow terrible things to happen?’”

  There were a few eager nods in the class. Personally, I hadn’t begun to think of my ability as able to affect anything bigger than my own pathetic life. I’d not stopped in the whirlwind to consider how I could use my ability to Shift to help others beyond saving my sister. I felt a pang of guilt at my selfishness.

  “Well, stop worrying about it, because you can’t,” Abbott said. “Because, as you all know, the First Law of Shifting is…?”

  “Shifters can only change their own reality,” the class sang. I looked around the room, trying to see if they were all reading this rule off something. But there was nothing on the walls except baffling diagrams and historic timelines. I recognised a picture of Lord Cuthbert Morgan-Fairfax standing next to Queen Victoria.

  “Which, of course,” Abbott continued, “means a Shifter can only undo his or her own decisions, and therefore can only affect events within their own lifetime.”