“Oh, yeah,” she said. “Hi, Radiant.”
Peter and Nora sat up straighter in their chairs and held their breath.
“Listen, Christina, we need to talk,” Radiant went on. “I just watched the show.”
“Oh. And?”
“And you’re underestimating who you’re dealing with. Gentleman will go after the people you love before he comes after you.”
6.9 Interlude (Kid)
Florida, USA
Saturday, the 18th of May, 2011
2:38 p.m.
“Emily! Get away from the water!”
Mom’s voice drifted across the pool with a pitch that startled people and dolphins alike. She stood beside the souvenir shop in her garish yellow spring outfit, waving her arms as if her shouting wasn’t loud enough. The floppy-brimmed straw hat she used to ward off sunburns overshadowed most of her face and her long auburn locks spilled from beneath, blowing in the wind.
Emily rolled her eyes. She was used to her mother’s overprotectiveness by now, but being exposed to it in public was more than embarrassing.
I’m not a baby, Mom. Jeez. I’m eight, she thought as she wiggled her toes in the pool’s turquoise water.
“It’s too deep!” her mother went on. “What if you fall in?”
Some of the other kids turned their heads while others kept their attention on the dolphin trainer, eager to hear everything about a dolphin’s diet.
Emily shot a pleading look at her father, who was a picture of relaxation as he lounged on a nearby bench in a sleeveless shirt with his sunglasses perched on his head. Her dad, at least, trusted her to know the difference between the shallow and deep water. When he met her gaze, he waved.
Taking a cue from his relaxed attitude, Emily inched to the edge to let more of her legs dangle into the water. One of the dolphins nudged her knee with his long nose. His beady black eyes peered up at her as if to ask if she’d like to dive in with him.
“I can’t swim, Skippy,” she explained. “I tried to learn, but all I do is sink. I’m weird, I guess.”
The dolphin bobbed his head up and down before plunging his nose into the pool and sending a wave of spray that sprinkled Emily with water. She wiped her face, laughing.
Some of the other kids were staring again, but she didn’t care. She didn’t have to be friends with those dumb kids, or listen to the trainer’s dumb presentation. She already knew everything the woman was talking about. She was more comfortable here at the edge of the pool, doing her own thing, talking to her own dolphin.
“You understand me, don’t you?” she asked him. “You’re way smarter than any fish.”
The dolphin nudged her submerged foot with his nose and Emily laughed again. It tickled something fierce.
“I’ve got a cat, but he’s not as smart as you.” She pulled her foot away. “He’s fat and lazy, and he can’t swim, either. Maybe that’s why I like him.”
Her dad’s arm was now stretched out over the backrest and his face was tilted at the sun. Kinda like Mr. Tibbs when he’s sunbathing. She grinned.
As if he had overheard her thought, her father opened his eyes and met her gaze. He gave her a broad smile and a thumbs-up, prompting her to flick her thumb up in return. When she turned her attention back to the pool, the dolphin bobbed his head at her.
“You know what thumbs-up means?” Emily giggled.
When she repeated the gesture for the dolphin’s benefit, a rush of dizziness hit her like a tidal wave. She had experienced something similar in the car during the drive to Florida, but this was more intense than that. Her entire sense of perception shifted. The air lost its odor of fish and the hum of voices morphed into something different, expressing moods rather than words. All sense of direction and her own position magnified. She was acutely aware of not just the world around her, but also above and below.
Her hands felt strangely misplaced on the ends of her arms. Such useless, scrawny things. Where were her fins? And what was she doing out of the water? She shouldn’t be here. She belonged with her kin.
Her pod.
Their collective sadness permeated her consciousness along with memories of her lost friends in the great blue ocean. She remembered the sound of all the name signatures she hadn’t heard since her world had shrunk to the size of a puddle. She recalled the desperation that had turned to boredom, occasionally interrupted by thoughtless interactions with the slow, clumsy land dwellers.
Affronted by the hard plaster of the pool’s edge beneath her bottom, Emily tilted her head back and released a series of clicking noises in an attempt to find her bearings. But she could barely interpret the echoes that bounced back to her useless ears. Had she gone partially deaf?
Some of the other dolphins sensed her mood and clicked distressed replies. She struggled to interpret them until finally it dawned on her.
Come, they were saying. Join us. It will be better.
She threw her head back to release another series of clicks. Yes, I will join you.
With that thought, the Emily-dolphin let herself glide into the water. As the water surrounded her, she realized just how sick and twisted her body was now. Her air hole was in the wrong place. Worse, she couldn’t breathe.
I’m coming, she thought as her deformed limbs oscillated through the water. But her graceless flailing brought her no closer to the others.
Up above, the sound of land dwellers in distress was loud enough to be heard beneath the water’s surface. Down below, her dolphin family gathered around her and clicked questions of confused concern. Now that she was among them, they suddenly wanted her gone. She didn’t understand why.
Up, one of them signaled with a wag of his tail fin before two of her kin sliced through the water to her side, attempting to push her back to the surface.
I belong here, she replied. But as she clicked the message, her air-breathing lungs were filled with water and her throat constricted. A loud splash was followed by a blur of bubbles. The next thing she knew, she was dragged up through the water by a pair of rough land-dweller hands.
But I don’t want to go, she thought. Then there was nothing. Everything went black.
***
Emily regained consciousness with a painful heave, emptying the contents of her stomach onto the paved ground surrounding the dolphin pool as a distressed buzz of voices filled her ears. Even though they sounded familiar, it took her a moment to place them.
Mom. Dad.
“Emily! Wake up! Oh, God, someone call an ambulance!”
She squinted into the over-bright sunshine and found herself face to face with her dad. He wasn’t relaxed now, even though he struggled to compose himself for her benefit.
She made an effort to speak, but coughed up more water instead. Someone grabbed her shoulders and rolled her onto her side, causing her stomach to turn upside down again.
“Please calm down. Our emergency team is on the way.” This time it was a stranger’s voice that assaulted her ears. He was crouching at her side before standing to address a spattering of onlookers. “The worst is over, everyone. She’s breathing on her own now. Please go back to watching the show. There’s nothing more to see here.”
The crowd’s collective curiosity scattered, drifting on to other matters.
This stranger was mad at her. Emily sensed it somehow. She had made a big boo-boo that could have gotten him into a world of trouble, maybe even causing him to lose his job. She wanted to apologize, but her words came out as a cough.
“Emily, can you hear me?” It was her father’s voice again. His love surrounded her like a warm blanket. It felt good, almost as good as being underwater.
“Hey, Dad,” she said. Words, not dolphin noise.
“Emily! Thank God! How many times did I tell you to get away from the water?” Her mom bent over her, blocking out the sun.
Emily closed her eyes in an attempt to shut out her mother’s anxiety, which assailed her like blows from a hammer. She shrank away, closer to her fa
ther’s love.
“Emmy?” Her dad squeezed her shoulders, desperate for answers. “What just happened? Did you pass out?”
Emily’s lips quivered as she slowly understood what had happened, but she didn’t want to tell. If she did, the uniformed dudes she saw on TV would come to take her away. She would have to answer all sorts of questions, and might never be allowed to go home again.
Worst of all, Mom and Dad would have one more thing to argue about.
“I … I slipped,” she finally said. “I’m really sorry, Dad. Can we go home now?”
She felt him soak up her explanation without a hint of doubt, radiating unwavering fatherly love like a miniature sun.
I love you too, Daddy. Emily wrapped her wet arms about him, feeling the warmth of sunlight on the skin of his neck and arms.
“All right,” Dad said. “Let’s get you checked out before I bring the car around.”
Atlanta, USA
Friday, the 2th of September, 2011
5:53 p.m.
“Em, are you sure your parents are gonna be okay with this?” Maria’s excited voice came over the phone just as Emily walked up her driveway after school. “Didn’t you say your mom freaks out whenever you mention sleeping over?”
Emily soaked up her friend’s mood over the phone connection until she was as giddy and excited as Maria. She could just imagine the look on her new best friend’s face. Maria would be nibbling on her bottom lip while squinting down at her little Hello Kitty day planner. There would be a note about tomorrow night’s pajama party at the bottom of the page, surrounded by cute drawings and colorful question marks.
“That was a couple months ago.” Emily lied with practiced ease as she approached the front steps. “Mom’s gotten better since she and Dad stopped fighting so much. But I’ll double-check and call you back, okay?”
“Okay!” Maria chimed through the phone. “I really hope she says yes! Steph’s already said she’s coming, and Jodie’s gonna ask her parents tonight.”
“Sounds fun,” Emily said, truthful this time. This whole friends thing was still new to her, but she liked it. Making friends was much easier now than it was a few months before.
“Yeah, it will be,” Maria enthused. “But I gotta take the dog for a walk. Ask your parents and then call me back. Okay, Emmy?”
“Okay, I will. Later.”
After tucking the phone into her pocket and setting her backpack down on the doorstep, Emily raised her hands to adjust the Mickey Mouse hairpins over her pigtails. She hated pigtails, and she hated the Mickey Mouse hairpins even more. They made her look like a baby. But her mom thought they were cute, and she needed maximum cuteness to obtain parental approval for her request. She dropped her arms when she heard the angry and all too familiar buzz of shouting through the kitchen window.
Not again. Emily puffed her cheeks out in exasperation. You agreed to be nice to each other and even try going on a date tonight, remember?
Why couldn’t her parents get along and stop making her head hurt? She wondered what they were fighting about now. She didn’t pick up any emotions yet so she knew her parents must be in the kitchen or on the back porch, beyond her range. They hadn’t seen her come home.
For a moment she considered turning around and heading over to Jodie or Stephanie’s house. Trying to fix adults was getting old fast, especially now that she had figured how they always fell back into the same old patterns when she wasn’t around.
You’re going on that date together, Emily decided. She had looked forward to her alone time all day. Movies, potato chips, and no adult emo poop whatsoever. She would have to watch in her room, though. Her parents’ fighting had polluted the rest of the house with too many negative feelings.
The muffled sound of their angry voices accompanied her all the way to the kitchen. They fell silent at the sound of the kitchen door opening, however. Emily armed herself with an uber-cute thousand-watt smile.
“I’m home!” she called into the kitchen, dropping her backpack on the floor.
A second later her mom returned an all too cheerful greeting. It would have been a good act, except for the buzz of latent anger and frustration ringing through the foyer like static on a broken television set.
A quick peek through the kitchen doorway revealed that Emily’s dad stood next to the kitchen counter, his shoulders tense. Her mom sat at the kitchen table, fussing with her wedding ring while Mr. Tibbs rubbed around her legs and was ignored.
Emily took a deep breath before slipping through the doorway. “Sneaky pouncing tiger attack!” She threw her arms around her mother’s sitting form.
Her mom gave a surprised laugh. As expected, the bad feelings drained away from the kitchen until they were reduced to bearable background static. Emily tilted her head back to flash a wide-eyed puppy dog face before burying her face in the folds of her mother’s dress.
At least she’s already dressed up in a nice date-worthy outfit. It was a start.
“What about me, Sweet Pea?” her dad laughed.
She dropped her arms from around her mom’s waist before rushing over to him. “Hi, Daddy!” she squealed, leaping into his outstretched arms. She nuzzled her face into his neck and giggled. When the last of the bad feelings had dissolved from the room, she wriggled free from his grasp.
“Did you get your history test back?” He set her back down on the ground. Emily felt some mild concern emanating from him. Standard parental worry stuff.
“Yep. And the teacher gave me a smiley face sticker on it and everything,” she said, pretending to be proud.
Her father beamed back the feeling, his pride was genuine. She tried to ignore the twinge of guilt that was tugging at her consciousness.
“Are you guys excited for your date?” she asked. “If you don’t get going, you’ll be late for your dinner reservation and then you’ll miss the movie!”
“I’m ready to leave,” her father said. Turning to his wife, he asked, “Are you?”
Mom didn’t respond. She was looking down at her wedding ring, tracing it with her thumb.
Emily tapped her fingers in a practiced rhythm against her thigh. Three short taps to focus and submerge. A pause to conjure a tiny spark of her mother’s consciousness within herself. A press of her thumb to her hip snapped her out of it before she absorbed too much and forgot who Emily was. The series of taps revealed the emotional struggle her mother was going through at the moment.
Broken promises. Lack of appreciation.
“You promised me you guys would go and have a fun time, remember?” Emily put on her saddest face. “Besides, Daddy tried really hard to get reservations at that restaurant. He wants to see you happy, right?”
Cue the big puppy dog eyes directed at her father.
Her dad nodded, and in an instant her mother’s mood shifted like a kite rising with the wind. Whoosh.
“You’re right, Sweet Pea.” Mom smiled a little, sweetening the moment. “Honey, do you have the car keys?”
Dad pulled the keys from his pocket and let them dangle from his index finger. “Ready when you are.”
Emily flashed Mr. Tibbs a victory sign behind her back. I fixed it! Perfect mood.
“Hey, Mom, before you go,” she began, feigning casualness. “Can I stay at Maria’s place tomorrow night for a sleepover? Her parents are doing a barbecue party.” She scooped Mr. Tibbs into her arms and held him against her chest, another pair of kitty-cat eyes to persuade her mom. “Mrs. Myers is going to be there and Reverend Mitchell, too. Maybe he’ll let me join his Bible study group if I ask real nice?”
Emily felt chords of approval being struck at the mention of the names and the Bible study group.
“All right, sweetie.” Her mom got up from the table and checked her wristwatch. “Your dinner is in the oven and the babysitter should be over in twenty minutes. Don’t forget to do your homework, okay?”
“You promised to do your homework, remember?” Dad added with a playful smirk.
“See you soon, Sweet Pea,” her dad replied. He was gently pulling Mom toward the foyer.
Emily set the cat back down on the floor and watched them from the kitchen doorway. Just as her parents left the house, she heard her dad say something about how amazed he was at what a social butterfly she had become lately. She kept her smile until the door thumped closed behind him.
Maybe I’ve been cheating just a teensy bit, she admitted to herself. Her parents would be furious if they ever found out about the powers she still hadn’t told anyone about.
After she heard the car engine roar to life, she pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her back pocket, smoothing it out against her pant leg as she picked up the home phone. After she dialed the phone number, she held her breath, her eyes fixed on the front door.
Let’s hope the babysitter doesn’t show up early.
Emily listened to the ringtone echo half a dozen times while her fingertips tapped out their rhythm against her leg. The pattern was more elaborate this time, complex enough to let her absorb her father’s voice and speech mannerisms without losing herself. She was just about to hang up when the call connected over the telephone line with a click.
“Romero,” a familiar male voice answered.
“Good evening, Mr. Romero. This is David Bell calling,” Emily said with her father’s voice. “You know, Emily’s father? I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”
“It’s quite all right, Mr. Bell. How can I help you?”
“I’m calling about Emily’s homework assignment. That long division worksheet that’s supposed to be handed in on Monday? I’m holding it right here in my hand, or perhaps I should say scraps of it. I’m afraid the cat got it.”
“The cat?” Mr. Romero laughed. “Usually the dog eats the homework.”
Emily faked her dad’s hardiest chuckle. “That’s why I wanted to call you myself. Otherwise, I knew that you would never believe it.”
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