Going Wild

by Lisa McMann

  Charlie decided she could start trying harder to be friendly next week. After all, she’d apologized to Kelly earlier. Now it was Kelly’s move. Charlie quickly began sawing the next plank with renewed gusto. Things were coming along well with her work. It was going to be so cool to see the finished platform onstage during the show and know that she’d built it! She texted her dad, letting him know the set building was going well and not to pick her up on his way home from work because she wanted to finish—she would walk home when she was done with everything.

  Kelly left Charlie alone, or perhaps she didn’t realize she was there. Whatever the case, their coexistence was working fine until the other crew kids started trickling out the door to go home, or to practice, or to piano lessons, or to whatever else they had going on. Charlie was finished cutting the boards for the entire train platform, and she had just a few more planks to nail into place, when Mr. Anderson called to her.

  “Charlie, can you give Kelly a hand with this bed? We need to move it offstage to the back corner where all the ‘Kim’s bedroom’ props will be.”

  “Sure,” Charlie said. She got up and wiped the sawdust off her jeans, then pulled back the curtain and went to where Kelly waited by the foot of the bed. On top of the mattress was a frilly comforter and pillow set.

  “I guess I’ll take the heavy end,” Charlie said, going to the headboard side.

  “Don’t hurt yourself,” Kelly said sweetly.

  Anger bubbled in Charlie’s gut, but she remembered her vow. “I’ll try not to,” she said. She bent her knees, gripped the bottom of the headboard, and on the count of three, the two girls lifted it up.

  “Jeez,” Kelly said. “This thing is made of bricks.”

  “Beggars can’t be choosers,” sang Mr. Anderson from somewhere backstage.

  “Whatever that means,” said Kelly under her breath.

  “I think it means we got the bed for free,” said Charlie.

  They heard the main doors to the auditorium open, and Mr. Anderson went to see who was coming in.

  Charlie began to walk backward with the heavy end. “Watch your step here,” she called out as she led the way down the ramp backstage. It was dimly lit. Charlie looked over her shoulder for the glow tape that marked the corners and edges of the steps so she wouldn’t lose her footing.

  Kelly struggled on the other end. “It’s so dark back here. This thing is heavy.”

  “Quit whining,” Charlie muttered, but Kelly wasn’t listening—her ears were attuned elsewhere.

  Mr. Anderson gave a joyful greeting to whoever had entered. Kelly quit complaining long enough to listen, and they could hear the sound of a young man’s voice floating through the auditorium.

  Kelly’s eyes opened wide. She stopped walking, which nearly pulled the bed out of Charlie’s grasp.

  “What the—” Charlie began, fuming and trying to get a better grip on the bed, but Kelly shushed her.

  “It’s Hickory James!” she hissed. “Last year’s Gaston from Beauty and the Beast. He’s in high school now. Oh my gah—how’s my hair? I have to go say hi! Dropping this now, bye!” And with that she let go of the bed and ran to the stage.

  Charlie lunged forward, cringing. Rude! Then she stared at the bed, stunned, as she realized something even more horrifying than Kelly’s behavior.

  Kelly’s end of the bed hadn’t fallen to the floor.

  Charlie was holding it—all of it. The entire bed.

  All by herself.

  CHAPTER 15

  OUT. OF. CONTROL.

  Charlie stared at the bed, held suspended by her own two hands. “What the—!” She let go of it and instinctively jumped backward as it thudded to the floor. She stood there a moment in shock. Had that really just happened? Had she been holding an entire bed by herself? It wasn’t possible.

  A cold sweat broke out on her forehead, and her stomach roiled. She whirled at the sound of Mr. Anderson and Kelly laughing in the auditorium. “I have to get out of here,” she murmured. She took off out the stage right exit, went down the hallway, and ducked into the girls’ bathroom.

  Once inside, Charlie ran into a stall and slammed the door behind her so hard that the top hinge broke off. The door swung wildly and came to an abrupt stop, hanging limp and at a strange angle from the bottom hinge. Charlie didn’t notice. She dropped to her knees in front of the toilet, hands shaking as she gripped the seat—she felt sick. She closed her eyes and felt her heart pounding, her breath becoming more labored, her stomach churning as she thought about all the strange things that were happening to her. Because they were strange—very strange. Running faster than she’d ever run before. Healing from a serious injury virtually overnight. Being strong enough to hold that entire bed by herself? That was insane! She couldn’t brush the incidents off anymore. They weren’t normal. Nothing about her was normal lately.

  She clenched her jaw, wanting to scream. What was going on? Her grip tightened on the toilet seat as the frustration grew inside her. Her skin burned, and she could feel herself losing control. “Why is this happening?” she whispered. “Why? Why?” With each plea, she gripped the toilet seat tighter, and with one final cry, she pounded it with her fists.

  The seat shattered, and the pieces fell all around. Water splashed up in her face.

  Charlie stared. “How is this even possible?” she cried. “What is happening to me?” She backed out of the stall and lunged toward the sinks, grabbing hold of one and staring at herself in the mirror above it. A stranger with her own face looked back at her—or at least it felt that way. The girl in the mirror looked normal. Scared, sure, but ordinary. Yet inside Charlie felt like some strange force had taken over her body.

  She twisted the faucet so she could splash clean water on her face, but the handle broke off in her hand and a stream of water sprayed from it. “Ugh! No!” she cried. With a surge of strength and frustration coursing through her, she slammed her hands down on the sink. It gave a loud groan and broke loose from the wall, coming away in her hands. Water spurted out of the pipe behind it. Charlie’s jaw dropped as she stared at the devastation, barely comprehending what was happening.

  The water continued to spray everywhere, soaking her, but Charlie hardly felt it. Instead she threw the sink against the wall, yelling incoherently. The sink cracked and fell to the floor, breaking in half.

  The shock of the noise finally brought Charlie to her senses. She put her hands up to her face and pushed her wet hair from her eyes. Water kept coming down on her. What was happening? Her left arm ached. At first she thought she’d injured it. She pushed up her soggy sleeve to examine it but soon realized it was throbbing with heat beneath the bracelet.

  “The bracelet!” she whispered. She punched the button to release the clasp, but it wouldn’t open. She tugged at it as hard as she could, but it held fast. At the same time, with water streaming down her, she finally realized the full extent of the damage she had caused. She knew she had to get out of there before someone saw her.

  She raced to the door and flung it open with far too much strength. The handle hit the wall, leaving a chunk of tile crumbling to the floor. But Charlie didn’t stop to look at it. She ran.

  She went past the distant voices of Mr. Anderson, Kelly, and the high school guy. Past the dark box office window and the banner that hung overhead, greeting visitors. Charlie pushed through the exit doors and out into the cool evening air, but she didn’t stop. She ran across the empty parking lot, over the track and soccer field, through the line of mesquite trees that bordered the municipal football field. Finally, when she was safely far away from school, she stopped running and began pawing madly at her wrist, trying to get the bracelet off.

  It wouldn’t budge. It was stuck.

  If she was strong enough to rip a sink out of a wall, why couldn’t she get this stupid bracelet off her arm? Charlie didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know where to turn. All she knew was that ever since she’d started wearing the bracelet she had somehow
gained ridiculous speed, extraordinary strength, and the power to heal herself. She dropped to her knees, put her face in the grass, and yelled—she had to yell. She had to get out her frustration. She could only hope that the earth muffled her yells enough to keep others from hearing her, because she was totally OOC right now. Out. Of. Control.

  After a few minutes of breathing deeply and trying to get a handle on things, Charlie sat up. She got to her feet. There was no one around. Slowly she continued walking toward home. Guilt flooded her when she thought of the damage she’d done to the girls’ bathroom. It was so insanely impossible that she wondered if she’d only imagined it. Maybe she was so stressed out from moving that her mind was messing with her. How could this be happening? And how could she make it stop if she couldn’t get the bracelet off?

  She’d have to cut it off somehow. Maybe the saw that she’d used to make the platform would be sharp enough. On second thought, that was probably a really bad idea. Maybe her parents had a safer tool that could break through the metal band. Though the location of the toolbox in their garage at the moment was anybody’s guess.

  As Charlie neared her neighborhood, she grew calmer, and her thoughts began to come together. Who could even make a device like this? And why would someone send it to her? She shook her head, marveling at the abilities she’d gained from it. Superspeed, amazing strength, crazy healing powers . . . it sounded good when she thought about it, anyway. But it wasn’t so great if she couldn’t control it.

  By the time she neared the driveway she was calm enough to realize she’d have to explain her sodden appearance. Not to mention her missing backpack, which she’d left backstage, filled with the weekend’s homework assignments. As she began to think of an excuse, she looked up and stopped short. Sitting on her front step was Maria, who was staring incredulously at her phone screen.

  “Oh,” Charlie said. Her hand flew to her hair to smooth it. “Hi. I, um . . . you found my house.”

  Maria looked up and studied her, a strange expression on her face. “What happened to you?” she asked. She stood as Charlie approached.

  “I got a little wet,” Charlie said.

  Maria frowned and folded her arms. “Explain.”

  “I—well, I was working on the set for the play.”

  “Yeah?”

  “And I got hot,” Charlie said carefully. It wasn’t a lie.

  Maria tilted her head.

  “And, uh, I got sprayed with water, and I feel cooler now. Gotta stay hydrated here in the desert. I’m learning.”

  “Is that right?” Maria stared her down.

  “Yep,” Charlie said weakly. “So, what are you doing here?”

  Maria clicked her phone off and shoved it into her back pocket. “I got a text message from Kelly that the girls’ bathroom by the auditorium exploded. And there was water everywhere.” She crossed her arms.

  Charlie blinked. “Oh, really?” she said, feeling the blood drain from her face. “That’s horrible.”

  Maria didn’t waver. “She said you’d been there, but you just disappeared.” When Charlie didn’t offer any further comment, Maria uncrossed her arms and put her hands on her hips. “Spill it, Chuck,” she said. “I’m on to you. I know what’s up. You might not read comics, but I do.” Her eyes threw out a challenge. “And I know exactly what you are.”

  Charlie’s heart thudded. Her voice faltered. “Y-you do?”

  “Please. I’m not stupid,” she said. She leaned forward, a joking smile playing at her lips, and said quietly, “You’re a superhero.”

  CHAPTER 16

  The Secret’s Out

  “I’m a—what?” Charlie said, and then she laughed in spite of her situation because the thought was so ridiculous. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “I’m serious,” Maria said, with mock sincerity. “You know what I mean—you’re, like, what do you call it? Emerging. Just realizing your powers, like Peter Parker after he gets bitten but before he figures out he’s Spider-Man.” She punched Charlie lightly in the arm. “I can’t believe this is happening right here in our little town. Superheroes usually live in big cities. . . .” She trailed off, scratching her head. “Hey . . . you’re from a big city.” She wagged her eyebrows. “See what I mean?”

  “Maria, stop.”

  Maria narrowed her eyes. “Okay.” She studied Charlie for a long moment, and then tilted her head in earnest. “Wait, though. The more I think about it . . . and you . . . and the strange things you’re doing . . .” She paused, deep in thought. “Nooo,” she whispered. And then slowly she said, “But . . . seriously. Do you have any other explanation for the weird things that are happening?”

  Charlie dropped her gaze and didn’t answer.

  “Have you always been able to run really fast?” Maria asked. “And heal overnight? And . . . and did you break the bathroom? I mean, look at you.” Her voice softened. “You can trust me.”

  Charlie stared hard at the driveway. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Come on,” Maria said, putting her hand on Charlie’s arm. “Were you born like this? Or did something, you know, happen to you? Is that why you moved here, because people were on to you? ’Cause you’re kind of freaky.”

  “No, that’s not why we moved!” Charlie said, offended. But she knew by now there’d be no skirting around the issue or pretending it didn’t exist. Maria had figured her out. Maybe she could help her decide what to do. Charlie sighed heavily. “Can you keep a secret?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “It—this all just started the other day.” She sighed and glanced at the house. The car was in the driveway, and the light in her dad’s den was on. “Come on. Let’s take a walk.”

  “Yeah, sure,” said Maria with a look of concern. “You okay, Charlie?”

  “I . . . I’m not really sure, to be totally honest.”

  The two girls walked down the driveway and turned onto the road. Charlie hesitated, thinking about what to say. Everything sounded so bizarre in her head—it was hard to explain. But she also knew Maria wasn’t going to take some lame excuse for an answer.

  Maria remained quiet, waiting for Charlie to begin.

  Charlie blew out a breath and absently tried to comb through her now-dry hair with her fingers, but soon gave up. “Okay, well, this is going to sound extremely weird,” she said finally, “but I don’t know what else it could be. I think the problem is this bracelet.” She pulled up her sleeve and held out her arm for Maria to see.

  Maria gripped Charlie’s arm and studied the bracelet but didn’t touch it. “What about it? Is it radioactive? Did an alien give it to you?”

  “Stop,” said Charlie, annoyed.

  “I was being serious,” said Maria.

  “No. It was a gift . . . I think,” Charlie said. “I thought it was one of those athletic bracelets that records heart rate, distance, speed—that kind of stuff. I put it on the other day for the first time, and nothing changed.” She hesitated, wondering about Thursday morning when she ran to her desk in first period and it skidded into the aisle—but she wasn’t sure that was so out of the ordinary.

  Charlie went on. “I felt pretty normal until soccer tryouts, I guess. I didn’t really realize anything was happening. Not at first, anyway. I mean, I figured I was just having a good scrimmage, you know? I didn’t really pay attention to how fast I was running because I was just playing the game. But looking back now I know you’re right—that was crazy. And my leg . . .”

  They approached a streetlamp, and Charlie stopped under it. She pulled up her pant leg. “See?”

  Maria gasped. “There’s hardly anything there! That’s insane. I saw it—I saw how bad it looked. I thought it was broken too.” She looked closer. “Are you sure that’s the leg she kicked?” Immediately after asking, she apologized. “Of course you are. That was a dumb question.”

  “It’s okay. I doubted it too.” Charlie dropped her pant leg, and they resumed walking. “I don’t understand it. And the
n today . . .” She buried her face in her hands, mortified by what she’d done to the bathroom. It was such an impossible thing that she didn’t even know how to claim responsibility for it. No one would believe that a twelve-year-old girl could rip a sink from the wall. And it’s not like it was her fault. She didn’t try to wreck anything! It was the stupid bracelet.

  She glanced at Maria. “Did Kelly say she thought I did that to the bathroom?”

  Maria shook her head. “No, she just mentioned you’d left. I . . .” She flashed Charlie a guilty look. “Once she told me what was happening in the bathroom, I sort of asked her if you were still there, because, well, that’s the first question that came to mind, I guess, after seeing the other weird stuff that you were doing. And when you came up the driveway all soaking wet . . . How the heck did it happen, anyway?”

  Charlie recounted the after-school events, telling Maria how shocked she’d been at being able to hold the bed all by herself when Kelly ran off to see that Hickory James boy. And she talked about how confused and angry she’d felt with all the weird stuff that was happening to her. “I never meant to break anything,” Charlie said. “You have to believe me. I felt like I was in a bathroom made of newspaper and toothpicks—that’s how easy it was to wreck things.” She glanced sidelong at her new friend. “Look, I know you don’t know me very well, but breaking up bathrooms is totally not my style.”

  Maria put her arm around Charlie’s shoulders as they walked. “Of course I believe you. If it helps, Kelly said the janitor was still on campus and got the water shut off right away, so at least there won’t be any damage from that.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  “But I don’t get it—why don’t you just take the bracelet off?”

  “That’s the problem,” Charlie said. “It’s stuck on me! I tried to rip it off after the bathroom thing, and it’s totally impossible. I don’t know what happened. I’ve taken it off before a bunch of times.”