The Boy Who Knew Everything

by Victoria Forester

  CHAPTER

  14

  It was the middle of the night and J., as only J. could, had silently gathered Piper and Conrad to the barn without rousing another soul on the farm. Conrad immediately noticed that J. was more agitated than he’d ever seen him, his skin gaunt and pale, as though he’d been without sunlight for months.

  After shedding his backpack, J. had drawn them close together and hunkered down, his face inches from Piper and Conrad, his voice low and urgent.

  “There is a place that is hidden and no one can get to. Only those who live there know about it. I have learned that in this place everyone is like us and yet everyone is completely unique. In this place you can be exactly as you were meant to be—your specialness is deeply celebrated. The people know true peace and happiness, surrounded by beauty and contentment. It’s paradise; no one wants for anything and everyone is given everything that they could ever need. Your days are filled doing the things that your heart yearns to do; if you need to learn something a teacher will help you; if you want to try something different every new opportunity is given to you. No one will ever hurt you again. No one will make fun of you and you will not have to hide. You will be safe and free. And not just free for a while, but free forever.”

  J. paused. Piper’s blue eyes were as large as saucers as she drank in the wonder of such a place. Conrad, on the other hand, had skepticism knitted tightly into his eyebrows.

  “We should go there.” J. got to his feet and reached for his backpack as though it was already decided. “We should go tonight.”

  “And where, pray tell, is this paradise?” Conrad’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

  “I don’t know,” J. admitted. “Well, not specifically, anyway. But I’ve narrowed it down and with all of your help we could get there in no time.”

  “This is ridiculous. We’re not going,” Conrad said firmly.

  “Why not?” Piper turned on him.

  “Tell me this, J., where did you find out about this ‘paradise’? Hmm?”

  “I have my sources.”

  “That’s not an answer. I want a name. Who told you?” Conrad planted his feet.

  J. shook his head. “It doesn’t matter who—”

  “Answer my question!”

  “You wouldn’t understand—”

  “I understand more than you know. Who?”

  “Letitia Hellion.” J.’s eyes were on fire. He was in the business of exposing secrets, not revealing them. “She is my sister.”

  Piper gasped.

  The air around them turned dense and charged with electricity.

  Conrad shook his head, then snorted as though he had suspected something like this, or worse, all along. Turning to Piper, he gestured with his hands as though to say, See! Just like I told you. This guy is crazy.

  “Dr. Hellion is alive?” Piper was in shock.

  “After you saw Letitia fall from the sky, Piper, someone saved her. She can’t remember who. She has memories of this place—she says that she lived there and she wants to go home.” J. confessed this information in a pleading voice. He needed Piper and Conrad; he needed to help them and save them, and now he needed them to help his sister. He wanted Piper to understand.

  “Where is Dr. Hellion now?” Conrad demanded, suddenly concerned that she might be close by.

  J. hesitated, not wanting to tell but knowing that Conrad would accept nothing but the truth. “Area 63. It’s a secret government prison for the criminally insane.”

  Conrad let out a low whistle. “Wow. Why am I not surprised? She sounds like … a credible source.”

  “She’s different now,” he said quietly.

  J. had not fully appreciated what horror the name Letitia Hellion struck in Piper McCloud’s heart, and the rest of the kids too. They had suffered under her control at her evil school and she had done them all great harm, which was not easily forgotten. Piper turned her back on J. and walked away. J. felt the sting of her rejection in his core.

  Seeing that Piper was unreachable, J. turned back to Conrad. “Conrad, Conrad, listen to me. First of all, my name is Jeston. And I have more information for you.” He scrambled to pull a file out of his backpack, placing it in Conrad’s unwilling hands. “This is about your father.” J. opened it quickly and flipped through the pages. “Did you know that your father was abandoned when he was twelve? It’s true. Look. The police found him wandering by the side of the road. He carried no identification and had no memory of who he was. They placed him in foster care and no one ever claimed him. Then when he was sixteen he ran away and they were never able to trace him again. Not that they tried very hard.”

  J. flipped through the pages and Conrad’s brow furrowed as he looked at the police reports and foster home evaluations.

  “He hired people to pretend to be his family, and he has a mysterious benefactor who has been guiding his political career.” J. pointed to specific passages and photographs excitedly.

  With a tremor in his hands Conrad absorbed this strange twist. “But…” He looked to J. “When did you get this information?”

  J. paused. “A year ago.”

  “And you’re only telling me now?” Conrad slammed the file shut. “What other information are you withholding? What else do you know?”

  “But I already gave you good intel on your father. You have to understand—”

  “I understand all too well.”

  “This is so big, there is so much—”

  “Stop. Stop treating us like children. We are not going with you to this place and we will not help you. I can speak for all of us when I say that we aren’t going to be put back into another prison, even if this one has been given the name ‘paradise.’” Conrad crossed his arms over his chest. “You should leave, J. You aren’t welcome here anymore.”

  J.’s shoulders deflated. He glanced toward Piper, but her back was still turned away from him and she couldn’t or wouldn’t face him. With great reluctance, he swung his backpack over his shoulders, and it suddenly felt so heavy his body heaved with the effort it took to hold it up. He turned to go.

  “If you won’t come with me, you should know this.” J. paused at the door. “You are all in the greatest danger. Your father knows where you are, Conrad, and he knows what you are doing. You are interfering with his plans and he will use every means at his disposal to stop you. All of you. Under no circumstances can you continue with these missions or … you will not like what will happen next. That is all I can tell you because it is all I know.”

  J. turned himself invisible and walked out the door.

  Piper swung around to face Conrad, her eyes flashing with fear.

  “What are we going to do, Conrad?”

  Conrad ran his fingers through his hair and exhaled in a long, measured blow. “We’re going to embrace our fears,” he said simply. “Let’s get some sleep.”

  CHAPTER

  15

  On the third day trapped inside the attic of their house, the Kaiser family had finished the last of their food and water. By ten in the morning temperatures were hovering above one hundred degrees and the two children lay on the floor quietly, too hungry and tired to play or even talk. Mr. Kaiser had stopped listening for helicopters or boats; none were coming.

  When the dam above Shady Grove mysteriously broke open they were among the very few lucky ones. Their house was on a small hill at the edge of town and they had just enough time to run up the stairs, and were fortunate enough to have an attic. On that first day they sat in a state of euphoria, cataloging the various ways, both large and small, that fate had smiled down on them and saved their family; like how they happened to all be at home; how Katy skipped soccer practice to go to a birthday party; how Timmy spent the morning in bed because he wasn’t feeling well instead of going over to his friend Jack’s house.

  What luck, they said to one another. What incredible luck.

  On the second day inside the attic restlessness set in and conversation revolved around t
he rescue efforts. Would they be sending food soon? Would there be rescue boats or helicopters? How much longer would it take? Mr. Kaiser had been trained for situations like this in the police academy, but without the proper tools he was unable to break a hole through the roof and they were trapped. At noon the two protein bars that Mrs. Kaiser had kept in her purse were finished, and the bottle of water from Katy’s gym bag was drained. There was nothing left.

  When she thought the children were sleeping Mrs. Kaiser whispered urgently to her husband.

  “Why’s it taking so long? Where’s FEMA and the Red Cross? The kids need food and water now. We can’t last much longer.…”

  Mr. Kaiser didn’t dare share the thoughts that ran through his mind. After all, the government knew that the dam was old and crumbling. Hadn’t their local paper printed a story just the week before about the dire engineering reports? The same reports that the government, even the president himself, consistently refuted and denied.

  Mr. Kaiser wondered silently if perhaps the government was purposely slow. And maybe not just slow—maybe they wouldn’t come at all.

  It was when the children stopped complaining that Mr. Kaiser got scared. They were so young and didn’t have the strength for this. He didn’t allow himself to consider that they might not last too much longer.

  On the morning of the fourth day all hope was gone. When Mrs. Kaiser tried to wake Timmy it took a long time to rouse him and then he’d only moaned and gone right back to sleep. She exchanged a long look with Mr. Kaiser—they both knew what was coming next. Even though the attic was like an oven they moved the family close together, in case there might be some small gesture or comfort they could give to the children or each other. Katy reached out and held her father’s hand and Mrs. Kaiser gently stroked Timmy’s hair.

  * * *

  Mr. Kaiser was the only one who was awake to hear a small set of footsteps on the roof of the house. Next he heard a clunk that was followed by the crash of wood. As though he was dreaming, he watched as a hole was punched into his roof. Wood splintered and shattered around them but didn’t touch them.

  Moments later a young girl flew—but how could that be? He squinted his eyes to refocus and yet still the girl was flying.… Flying?

  She flew through the hole in the roof into the attic and across to where the Kaiser family was huddled. Her long brown hair was caught up in a braid and she wore a pair of jeans and a blue T-shirt that said SECOND STAR TO THE RIGHT AND STRAIGHT ON TIL MORNING. A smattering of freckles dotted her nose and cheeks. When her feet touched down she crouched next to Mr. Kaiser, and he was able to see that she was as ordinary as any girl he might have seen walking up and down Main Street. Ordinary, that is, except for her blue eyes. Her eyes were made from the sky and held a depth and understanding that was almost impossible for such a young girl to have. She was ordinary and at the same time utterly extraordinary.

  “Me and my friends are here to help you,” the girl said.

  Mr. Kaiser nodded. He had no words.

  She called out and another child suddenly jumped down through the hole in the roof and onto the attic floor. She was a big girl, perhaps fourteen years old, and she lumbered toward them. Mr. Kaiser could feel the already feeble house shaking under her weight. She nodded to him and without a word picked up the two children with a disarming gentleness. Holding Katy and Timmy in one arm, she picked up Mrs. Kaiser in the other and made her way back to the hole in the roof, where she handed them up to waiting arms. Their combined weight was well over 250 pounds, but this girl handled them as though they were feathers.

  With a small amount of help, Mr. Kaiser was able to follow behind, and once he was hoisted up onto the roof what met his eyes was alarming and seemingly impossible. There were no relief workers, no medical personnel, or police officers of any kind. There were three boats and each boat held two or three kids. They were moving from house to house. At one house that leaned at a particularly precarious angle, a dark girl shrank down to the size of a Barbie doll so that she could fit through a chimney and save trapped parrots. One kid, a scrawny boy with black hair, looked at a house and knew if someone was inside as though he had X-ray vision. A delicate Asian girl (in a spotless white silk dress, no less) was telekinetically moving debris out of the way. The big girl who had lifted his family was busting up roofs or cars or anything else that prevented them from getting to the wounded and waiting. And the flying girl was moving above it all, landing on houses, hovering between boats, rising out of sight and then back again.

  And yet they were ordinary kids. Take them and stick them in any classroom and you wouldn’t give them a second glance.

  When the boats were full they returned to two large black transport trucks. Like the boats, the trucks were large and unmarked.

  According to need, each survivor was led to the first transport truck in turn. When Mr. Kaiser was finally invited forward he was not surprised to find the truck equipped with an array of medical equipment and devices. What he was surprised to find was that not a single needle or swab was used. When he was sitting on the examining table, a boy, slight, thin, and very pale, approached him.

  “P-p-p-please don’t m-m-move,” said the boy.

  He reminded Mr. Kaiser of his Timmy. He was maybe six years old and uncomfortable in his own skin. It made Mr. Kaiser yearn for his own son.

  The boy then began to rub his hands together until they glowed. The light they gave off was like a klieg light; it hurt to look at it directly and Mr. Kaiser squinted and looked away, glancing back as much as he could. As the light grew the boy began to blow into his hands and the light changed from bright white to red. Softly the boy stepped forward and placed his hands on Mr. Kaiser and the light leapt off his hands and into his belly.

  Mr. Kaiser jumped, not because the light hurt but because it felt so good. Every muscle that was knotted, every cut and bruise, every part of him that was sore or hurt released the pain and anguish of the last four days in an instant and was replaced with a warm feeling of contentment and health. Mr. Kaiser sighed deeply as the healing took hold.

  Before he could thank the small boy, he scuttled away like a scared fish and Mr. Kaiser let himself out. He found his family laughing and eating under a tent as though the last four days had never happened.

  In another few hours, all who could be helped were safe. Mr. Kaiser watched the recovery efforts with a keen eye. His training and his experience as a police officer made him appreciate as few could what an extraordinary effort this was in terms of the way the entire operation was run. But how? he thought over and over again. It would have taken any other workers days or weeks to accomplish what he counted as ten kids did in a few hours. It was nothing short of a miracle.

  “Mr. Kaiser?” The flying girl was at his side, surprising him from his thoughts.

  “Yes?”

  “Are you the same Mr. Kaiser who is chief of police?”

  “I am.”

  “Well, that’s just grand. You think you’d be able to come with me for a moment, sir?” The girl was polite but not formal.

  Mr. Kaiser got to his feet and followed the girl to the second transport truck. He had yet to see anyone enter or leave that particular truck. As they walked he could hear the girl mumbling multiplication tables under her breath.

  The girl flew up the steps and opened the door. Mr. Kaiser used the stairs and arrived not long behind her.

  Inside the trailer it was dark but for the glow of computer lights.

  “Conrad?” she said.

  “Right with you,” came the reply.

  Mr. Kaiser let his eyes adjust and finally caught a glimpse of the missing link of the entire operation: the piece of the puzzle he had been looking for—the central command. It consisted of a single boy: Conrad, as the girl had called him. He was a serious-looking kid with blond hair. He looked like he’d sprouted up recently, like he wasn’t used to being so lanky but was growing into himself just fine.

  Conrad was standing in t
he middle of the room. Surrounding him were three-dimensional images, which he manipulated with his hands like an orchestra conductor. Before his face was a 3-D house; it looked like the Jenkins house on Avon Street. Conrad turned the image of the Jenkins’s house this way and that. On his left were files containing faces and information on families. As he touched the house and turned it with one hand, he opened files with the other that instantly responded to his touch, turning into images of people next to which were their stats: age, height, medical conditions, etc. Over his shoulder were more files with weather stats, satellite images, and topographical information.

  Like all the other kids, Conrad had a small silver device the size of a toothpick coming from his right ear.

  “Smitty, check that last house in the fourth quadrant. I’m showing movement,” Conrad said. With quick motions Conrad closed down and organized the images into a row and turned his attention to his guest.

  “Chief Kaiser, thank you for joining me. My name is Conrad.” Conrad extended his hand and Mr. Kaiser took it.

  “Will Kaiser.” They shook briefly and Mr. Kaiser took note of the fact that the boy’s hand felt small in his but there was strength in it all the same.

  “Please, walk with me.” Conrad indicated the door and allowed Mr. Kaiser first passage.

  Outside, the sun was starting to set and Mr. Kaiser saw that the boats had been packed away and pretty much everything else had too.

  A blur of movement stopped abruptly in front of them and it took Mr. Kaiser a moment to realize that the movement was actually created by a girl. She was rather thin and scruffy looking with dark hair that fell over her face.