by Amy Ignatow
“So Ed took us to see his brother,” Cookie started as Farshad drank his water, and told him about the dingy lab under the train tracks, the electrical accident at Auxano, and the formula that had turned them into supernatural freaks in the bus wreck. “Dr. Deery thinks that it’s going to take some time but he might be able to figure out how to reverse whatever happened to us.”
“And you trust him?” Farshad asked. “My parents work at Auxano, and I’m pretty sure they’re not involved in any nefarious file-stealing or ransacking apartments.”
“My parents work for Auxano, too,” Cookie said defensively.
“So do you believe this guy?”
Cookie rubbed her temples. “I don’t know. But so far he’s the only one with any answers.”
Farshad leaned back in his seat. “Fortune cookies have answers.”
Cookie sat up and gave him a hard look. “Do you have any answers?”
“What about asking Auxano?”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m not. Why don’t we just go to Auxano and have them figure it out?”
“Were you listening at all to the story I just told you?” Cookie looked aghast. “They stole Dr. Deery’s research, fired him, and ransacked his apartment. They’re not exactly trustworthy.”
“And he is? You just met him! But I’ve known my parents for, oh, my entire life, and you’ve known your parents for roughly as long and I don’t know about you, but I’ve never seen my parents do anything worse than accidentally park their car in a handicapped spot. And they felt bad about it. Why are we suddenly trusting Dr. Dirty Lab over our own parents?”
Cookie looked furious. “I’m sorry, but were you not at the barn? Did you not see what happened to Mr. Friend?”
“And what did happen to him?” Farshad asked. Cookie was standing now, so he stood up, too. “He was a dangerously unhinged man who was lighting stuff on fire with his mind, and people who could handle him took him to a place where he couldn’t hurt anyone else. I, for one, support that action.”
“Oh, and would you be supportive if it happened to one of us? What if they took me away to ‘a place where I couldn’t hurt anyone else’? Is that what you want?”
“Well . . .”
“Oh my god. Shut up. Do you want to be taken to some place where you can’t hurt anyone with your . . . thumbs?”
“Well, maybe they would have been nicer about helping him if he hadn’t been so crazy. Maybe if he’d been able to approach them and say, ‘Hey guys, I’ve been accidentally lighting stuff on fire with my mind, a little help?’ they might not have had to take him by force.”
“So is that what you want to do? Go to Auxano and say, ‘Hi! I’m a great big freak! Help me!’”
“I don’t know. Maybe? I just don’t think that we should immediately trust a disgraced and possibly mad scientist and his weird bus-driving invisible brother.”
“He’s a sculptor! Driving the bus is his day job.” Cookie snarled.
“Wait, is that supposed to convince me that he’s aboveboard? That he’s a sculptor?” Farshad sniped back.
“No, I just thought it was INTERESTING.”
“Hey, Cooks, what’s happening here?” A tall white man with thinning hair walked into the kitchen and stood next to Cookie while appraising Farshad with a wary eye.
“Hi, George,” Cookie said. “This is Farshad.”
Farshad extended his hand awkwardly to Cookie’s stepfather. “Hello, Mr. Parker, it’s nice to meet you,” he said.
“Actually, it’s Mr. MacKessy,” Cookie’s stepfather replied coolly, shaking Farshad’s hand with a little too much grip. Farshad took care not to reciprocate, not wanting to break every bone in the man’s hand despite the fact that Mr. MacKessy was looking at him with suspicion. Farshad understood. It’s not every day you see a tall brown dude hanging out in your house alone with your daughter.
“Sorry, Mr. MacKessy,” Farshad said, taking his hand back. “Cookie and I were just—”
“Farshad was just leaving,” Cookie said, shooting Farshad a look that was clearly telling him to Shut. Up.
“I was just leaving,” Farshad said, picking up his empty water glass to put it in the kitchen sink. It shattered in his hand. “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry . . .”
“Don’t worry, don’t worry,” Mr. MacKessy said quickly, grabbing the remaining shards from Farshad’s hand and putting them on the kitchen counter. “Are you hurt? Are you bleeding?”
Farshad looked down at his hand. Not a scratch, of course. “No, I’m fine,” he said.
“Come over to the sink, let’s put your hand under the light to get a better look,” Mr. MacKessy said worriedly.
“George, he said he was fine,” Cookie said, grabbing a broom and a dustpan. “You’re fine, right?”
“Yeah,” Farshad said. “I’m so sorry about the glass.”
“He’s got to go now.”
“But I’ve got to go.”
“But we’ll talk later.”
“Sure,” Farshad said noncommittally, and headed out the door to run and not think some more.
“Let me read it again,” Jay said, snatching Cookie’s note from Nick’s fingers and leaning back against the wall in the Understeps. “Look at her handwriting.” He sighed. “It’s exquisite.”
“Really?” Nick asked, looking over Jay’s shoulder at the three pages that described what Cookie and Martina had learned from Dr. Deery. “It looks kind of sloppy to me.”
“Look at the lines,” Jay said dreamily. “She writes with power. She’s not afraid of the paper.”
“Okeydokey.” Nick watched Jay pore over what Cookie had written. She had explained first that Ed had told her to stop using the Internet to talk about their new abilities in case someone was hacking their email. From the look of her note, Cookie had become increasingly irritated with having to use an actual pen and paper. By the time she’d gotten to the part of the story where Abe’s sister was shunned from the Amish community, Cookie’s handwriting was almost illegible. Still, Nick was grateful for the update. “So what do you think?” he asked Jay.
“The ending is a little harder to read,” Jay admitted.
“No, what do you think about the actual story?”
“Ah. Yes. FASCINATING. We have a lot to think about. I wish I had gone with them—if you all go back to Dr. Deery’s lab I’m going to insist that I accompany you.”
“I don’t see them going back any time soon.”
“They might not, but you ought to. He should have a sample of your blood as well.”
“Should he?” Nick turned around to see Farshad ducking his head underneath the stairwell to join them.
“Did Cookie give you one of these, too?” Nick asked him, gesturing to the note that Jay was reading again.
“No, she told me the story when I saw her yesterday.”
“Wait, were we supposed to meet up yesterday to talk?” Nick felt a surge of the all too familiar sensation of being left out.
“No, I was just out for a run yesterday and saw her, so she told me everything.”
“Oh,” Nick said, slightly unnerved by his own relief. “So, what do you think?”
Farshad leaned against the wall. He looked grim. “Look, I asked my parents about Dr. Deery last night.”
Jay looked up from the note, his eyes wide. “Did you tell them about your power?”
“No, not yet. I just made it sound like I heard a rumor about him. They told me that he’d been fired for unethical experiments, and they seemed to think that he was pretty crazy.”
“And you believed them?” Nick asked.
“My own parents? Yeah, I believed my own parents. And after hearing about how Dr. Deery is working from some nasty butcher-shop basement, I’m thinking that my gainfully employed scientist parents are a lot more trustworthy than he is.” Farshad sighed and picked up his backpack. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell anyone anything yet. For all we know, these . . . powers . . . could
just go away if we drink a lot of water. But if stuff gets worse I’m going to tell my folks and see what the people at Auxano have to say.”
“You can’t do that,” Jay said. “It’s not just your secret to tell!”
“And it’s not yours at all.” Farshad snapped. “Look, we’re going to be late to class.”
“Okay, just . . . let’s talk about this later?” Nick asked.
“Yeah, maybe.” Farshad walked away.
“There goes a young man with many issues,” Jay mused. “But don’t worry, he’s not going to tell his parents.”
“Oh?” Nick asked, gathering up his own things. “And what makes you so certain of that?”
“Because we’re going to get to the truth of the matter.”
“With our renowned sleuthing skills?” Nick asked.
“Do you really think they’re renowned? I did find the missing class hamster in fifth grade.”
“Jay, you’re the one who let Sir Nutcheeks out of the cage.”
“Of course I did. He needed to feel, even for the briefest of times, the sweetness of freedom and self-determination. We’ve been over this.” Jay leapt to his feet. “We’re going to find Mr. Friend.”
“No, we’re going to go to class,” Nick said, heading down the hallway to their homeroom. He honestly didn’t know what the next step was, but he knew that the exam was the next day, and the one thing that he could control was being in the classroom to take it. Unless he blinked out during the middle of the test . . .
Nick felt Jay’s hand on his elbow. “I just did it, didn’t I?” Nick asked.
Jay nodded. “Let’s take deep, healing breaths and head to class, shall we?”
“Hey, look, it’s Fatboy and his boyfriend,” Nick heard a voice behind him. Farm Kids. Great.
Jay turned around, keeping his hand on Nick. “Are you talking about us?” he asked Sam and Paul.
“I don’t see anyone else here,” Sam sneered, looking around.
“Well, while I would be lucky to have a boyfriend as thoughtful and kind as my friend Nick here, alas, we are not romantically linked.” Jay explained, “At this point in my development I mostly identify as heterosexual.”
Sam looked confused. “See,” he said, “I told you he was gay.”
“No, no, my poor, dim friend, ‘heterosexual’ means that I’m attracted to people of the opposite sex. That means women,” Jay said.
“We should go,” Nick said, grabbing his nonromantic friend and steering him toward their first class. Jay would stay in the hallway explaining the difference between homosexuality and heterosexuality until Sam and Paul shoved him into a locker.
“Bye, lover boys,” Sam yelled down the hall after them.
“You misunderstand,” Jay said as Nick dragged him away. “We’re really just good friends. I’m deeply in love with Daniesha . . .”
Nick could hear them laughing as they left. His face burned with frustrated anger, not because he cared what they thought but because they’d made being gay sound like something shameful. He should have spoken up. What if Molly and Jilly had been there? All he could do was stand like a big goober and be terrified of Jay letting go of him and him accidentally transporting himself into a brick wall of the hallway.
“Cheer up, old boy,” Jay said. “We’ll get to the bottom of everything that’s happening. Everything will become much clearer after we find Mr. Friend, I promise.”
Nick was not particularly comforted.
Cookie got to Mrs. Whitaker’s class early. Well, early for Cookie, in that she didn’t run in right as the bell was sounding. There was absolutely no way that she was ending up in the back of a class again with Yokel McRacistjerk. She wasn’t particularly sure about how the Farm Kids felt about Asians but was completely willing to let Emma Lee find out.
“Hello, Cookie,” Mrs. Whitaker said, “good to see you. How are you feeling?”
“Just fine, thanks,” Cookie said, doing her best to not look guarded.
“Your head is all healed?” Mrs. Whitaker asked.
“Sure,” Cookie said. “Good as new.” Addison and Claire walked into the room and sat down next to Cookie. Emma Lee followed and sat behind her.
“Is anyone feeling nervous about the exam?” Mrs. Whitaker asked.
“Definitely me,” Emma said, giggling. What a lie. That girl aced every exam and everyone knew it. Cookie suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Mrs. Whitaker said, turning around to start writing on the whiteboard.
“Where were you?” Claire hissed to Cookie.
“Where was I when?” Cookie asked as the rest of the class filed in. Sam Stoltzfus headed toward her. She made herself look bored and he sneered as he walked by her desk.
“Yesterday! We were supposed to be studying together!” Claire was getting hyped up.
“Girl, chill,” Cookie said. “I had family stuff.”
“Are you even ready?” Addison asked from her other side. “We went over A LOT. Emma’s notes are extensive.”
“I’m sure I’ll do just fine without Emma’s . . .” Cookie’s voice trailed off.
Must get her out of class. Must separate her from the rest of them.
Look normal. Act like nothing is a big deal.
Just get Cookie alone.
Cookie heard Ms. Zelle’s voice in her head as clearly as if she had been sitting right next to her, but the science teacher was nowhere to be seen.
“Cookie?” Addison asked. “Earth to Cookie. Come in, Cookie.”
“God, you’re so spacey,” Claire said.
“I have to go,” Cookie said, standing up quickly and walking to the front of the class. “Mrs. Whitaker, I’ve got to go.”
“I thought you said you were fine.”
“I’m not. I’ve got to go.” Look normal, Cookie told herself. “I think I just need a moment to splash some water in my face. I’ll be right back,” she added, before Mrs. Whitaker could respond, and darted out the door and around the corner. She immediately opened an empty locker and hid behind the door as Ms. Zelle rounded the corner and went into Mrs. Whitaker’s room. Cookie could hear Ms. Zelle asking where she was. Cookie walked quickly toward the Understeps.
“Where are we going?” Martina asked. It was as if she had appeared out of nowhere.
“GAH!” Cookie yelped.
“We should probably be quieter,” Martina warned. “We did leave class again.”
“What . . . how did you know I left class?” Cookie’s heart was racing a million miles an hour.
“Because I saw you leaving. Where are we going?”
“Were you in the class?”
“Sure.”
“How did you get out?”
“I just followed you.”
“And no one noticed? How?”
Martina shrugged. “No one ever notices me. So why did you run out?”
Cookie steered Martina to the Understeps. No one important ever seemed to go there—it was as good a place as any to hide out.
“I heard her,” Cookie whispered to Martina. “Ms. Zelle. I heard her coming to the class to find me.” Cookie tapped her temple with her finger. “In here.”
“Really?” Martina looked momentarily confused. “Why was she thinking about how to get to Mrs. Whitaker’s class? She’s been by it enough times.”
“That’s the thing—she wasn’t thinking about how to get there. Ms. Zelle was thinking about how to get me out of there.” Cookie took a deep breath. “I heard her thinking about how she had to separate me from everyone else and how she had to act normal. I had to get out before she got there.”
“That does not seem good. She knows about you,” Martina said.
“Do you think that’s it?”
“Why else would she want to speak to you alone?” Martina asked.
“But why wouldn’t she also be looking for you?” Cookie snapped.
“No one ever looks for me,” Martina said matter-of-factly.<
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“Ugh, you’re so weird,” Cookie said. Her eyes widened as she heard someone coming down the steps above them. She grabbed Martina’s arm and dragged her farther back underneath the stairs and raised her finger to her lips.
“Exam day!” Nick opened his eyes to see Jay sitting on the edge of the futon that Molly and Jilly had put in their newly set-up nursery. “Are you ready?”
“Boundaries,” Nick groaned into his pillow. Holding an exam on a Saturday was too cruel.
Jay bounded over to the crib and started batting at a mobile of hanging farm animals. “Fascinating,” he said.
“Stop that,” Molly barked, poking her head into the room. “What are you, a cat?”
“But why barnyard animals?” Jay asked. “Is your baby going to be a farmer? Is it really so necessary to know about sheep and cows? People seem to believe that babies need to know all about sheep and cows.”
“And ducks,” Molly said. “Knowing about ducks is very important to child development.”
“It is?”
“No, doofus, they’re just cute and fluffy. Didn’t I tell you to wait downstairs while I woke Nick up?”
“You did, my dear lady, but I decided to take it upon myself to help you as you have your hands full with taking care of your beautiful, child-laden wife.”
“Boundaries!” Nick growled.
“Nicky, get up and get ready, it’s exam day,” Molly said. “Jay, GET OUT and go back to the kitchen.”
“Would you mind terribly much if I partook of some coffee?”
“Oh no no no,” Nick heard Molly say as she marched Jay down the stairs. “Angela already told me that you’re not to have any caffeine.”
“This is an outrage!”
Nick hauled himself off the rocky futon. His mom had told him that their house would be ready for them to move back into “soon,” although she hadn’t specified when exactly. He loved his aunts, but he missed sleeping in his own bed.
Exam Day. Nick had been dreading it for months, but the events of the past week had distracted him from the nausea that usually accompanied the threat of an upcoming test. It wasn’t that he was stupid—Nick didn’t consider himself to be a genius, but he could take one look at Farm Kids like Sam Stoltzfus and know that he at least wasn’t a complete idiot—but he wasn’t good at taking tests. Sitting in a big quiet room with only the sounds of pencils filling out answer bubbles made him incredibly nervous, and he was always second-guessing his answers. Time itself was Nick’s enemy during tests—he’d look at the clock and realize that he didn’t have much time left, and then he’d freak out and not be able to concentrate on answering the questions that were left, so he told himself not to look at the clock but then of course he was constantly looking at the clock and then worrying that he was losing time checking the time . . . Nick looked over and realized that he’d moved about a foot to his left just thinking about taking the test.