I shook my head as Jessica prompted her father again and found myself losing interest, my eyes wandering to the fence at the edge of school property. Behind us, Mrs. Whip was quietly laughing as she spoke to Mr. Lynch, the muscular gym teacher who sometimes drove her home after school, and his eyes were practically glued to her own.
“I’m heading to use the restroom,” I said to Stephen as I felt my focus falter again, Mrs. Whip’s tinkling laugh sounding behind us as other members of the class shuffled their feet. “I’ll probably just join the class behind us so I don’t miss anything. If anyone asks, let them know that.”
“Hey, you can fool them, but you can’t fool me,” he answered with a wink. “I’d join ya, but Mum said I won’t get dinner if she catches me skipping again.”
So I made my way to the restrooms, and from the restrooms out the shattered window in one of the back classrooms that had been on the school repair list since last September. And I walked to something more interesting, something I could only see when I skipped my own lessons around this time.
The academy, at recess. Where I had found the perfect spot, high up in a heavily leaved rhododendron tree, where I could just barely see through the vegetation to the children playing over the fence. Placing a few well-aimed force points toward the outer edges of the tree, I pulled the branches apart just enough to make a small window, just enough for me to have a clear look.
Powers, as I could tell from my position, were not to be used at recess under threat of punishment. But it was similar to the busy intersection outside my apartment, viewable from my window – if you watched long enough, something would happen. And I’d spent hours in that tree, waiting, nearly always to be rewarded.
Just last week, a skirmish had broken out over a hotly contested game of whiffle ball, the two teams shouting about whether or not the ball had landed across the foul ball line. From my position, I could hear Anthony, the right fielder, being accused.
“He used his powers again, and that’s cheating!” shouted a girl in pigtails with the bat still in her hand, who made the ground tremor just noticeably when she stomped. “We should use a heavier ball so he can’t just blow it out of bounds.”
“Did not!” retorted Anthony, a reed of a boy who stood six inches taller than anyone else on the team. “You just can’t hit straight, what with the earth never being flat underneath you. Wendy Waddles, everyone calls you, because you can’t keep your feet straight!”
Wendy’s jaw tightened as she approached Anthony, and I saw Anthony was indeed correct – slight depressions or footprints were left in the dirt where she stomped, dirt that should be hard packed over years of use.
“You take that back!” she hissed. “Or I’ll, or I’ll—”
“Or you’ll what?” he teased, sticking out his tongue.
“Or I’ll do this!” she shouted and stomped as hard as she could where his foot had been an instant before he moved it, fluttering backwards like a piece of paper caught in the wind. Wendy shrieked as her foot crashed through the dirt until her right leg was submerged up to her knee, her eyes flashing with anger.
“Get back here!” she shouted, trying to yank her foot out as teachers rushed to subdue the fight. “Before I come after you!”
“Doesn’t look like you can waddle anywhere, Wendy!” he taunted back.
From my position, I saw both students were reprimanded with detention slips. It took the teachers forty-five minutes to dig Wendy out, the time significantly lengthened when she stomped her other foot in frustration and now had both jammed deep in dirt.
And today, I watched closely, trying to determine what would happen next. Too closely, as the voice behind me nearly made me jump out of the tree to the ground thirty feet below.
“I’m no Telepath, so I don't know,” said the voice again as I searched the branches, trying to find the source, “but I’d say you probably are an idiot. You should be in school. I wonder what the punishment is for skipping? For us, it’s three detentions. What's your name?”
Then I found her, floating just outside the branches, a mass of brunette hair with two brown eyes that squinted towards me. With nothing holding her up, except for her nose looking down on me, and her voice thick with mockery.
“Essie,” I choked, attempting to recover.
And I swallowed, realizing that she wore the same uniform as those playing at recess.
Chapter 4
“Essie?” she sniffed, hovering. “That’s a girl’s name, you don’t look like a girl to me.”
“That’s because it’s S-C,” I said, slowly reaching out to remove each of the force points, letting the tree branches collapse back in around me. “Like JD or EJ.”
“Well, Essie or SC, it certainly doesn’t explain what you are doing in this tree,” she retorted and noticed the branches moving. “Hey?! Are you doing that? Are you a Special?”
“No, I’m absolutely not,” I said hurriedly. “Just a nosy Regular, and now, I’ll be on my way, thank you. Just, erm, got lost.”
“You absolutely are!” she said, trailing me from the outside of the tree as I started to climb down, realizing I knew her as one of the girls that frequented hopscotch and jump rope on the other end of the playground. With her abilities, I bet she cheated too. “And this isn’t the first time I’ve seen you up here. I tend to keep my eyes on the sky. This is just the first time my teacher turned her back long enough for me to look!”
“Nope, definitely first time I’ve been here, Arial!” I repeated, now practically falling from the tree in my haste, cursing as I realized my slip-up.
“You know my name! You’ve been spying on me, on us, listening to us? Who do you think you are? Stop, stop right there or I’ll report you in before you make it down the block. I’m sure the police would want to know why you aren’t in school!”
I froze, clinging to the branch halfway down, considering my options.
I could set a force point above her, one that would drag her upwards and away while I escaped. But it would likely do more harm than good – creating a force point was kind of like kneading dough, or playing with putty. It was as if I was pushing into that area of space, contorting it, stretching it downwards, and letting objects fall in. The problem, however, was that anything nearby would be attracted to it, not just her. It would draw far more attention to me than she ever could by calling the police, and she might be able to fly away before she could be sucked in.
I frowned, thinking quickly as she questioned me again, her voice hard.
“I said, what are you doing here?” she repeated, whizzing in closer, sticking her head inside the leaves, a branch tearing her sleeve. “Now look what you’ve made me do! Mother is going to be irate.”
“I’m, well, I’ve only just arrived a few days ago,” I said, an idea taking root in my brain, “But I’m trying to determine if the academy is worthy for someone like me. My parents sent me here, you see, to live with my aunt, since schools aren’t the best where I’m from. Since, well, they don’t exist where I’m from.”
“Don’t exist?” she asked, craning her neck forward. “What do you mean, don’t exist? Schools are everywhere.”
“Not when your parents are researchers in the Arctic!” I said, thrusting out my chest. “But I suppose you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, city girl?”
“I wouldn’t, and you wouldn’t either. Because it’s obviously a lie,” she snorted, inspecting the tear in her sleeve, trying to press the fabric near her elbow back together.
“Hmm, a lie? You’re right, I did lie. I am a Special, from farther north than you’ve ever seen, where it’s light outside for entire days at a time.”
“Oh yeah? What type are you, then?”
“A Boreal,” I stated, brushing a piece of bark off my shirt. “But I doubt someone from around here would be familiar with those.”
“A Boreal!” she exclaimed, eyes wide. “Of course I know what those are. I saw one when I was young! The city booked him out fo
r an entire night. I’ve never seen a show like it! It was as if the sky came alive with colors!”
“I suppose if you aren’t used to it, it might seem pretty amazing,” I responded and started climbing down the tree again, giving her a sideways glance. “Guess I’m just used to it by now.”
“Hold it, I’m not done with you,” she said. “Prove it. Boreals are incredibly rare, and I’d know if one entered the city. We'd all know.”
“Rare, but not powerful. I don’t need any sort of permits, I couldn’t hurt a fly. There's no reason for me to enter announced.”
“Either way, prove it, or I’m still calling the police.”
“If you wanted a private show, you should have just asked,” I drawled and held up a hand palm up towards her. “I’ll need to keep it small, though, and you’ll have to keep it a secret. No one is supposed to know I’m here yet, since I don’t start school until next week.”
Slowly, I coaxed one of the black orbs out from above my wrist, peeling away several strands of light from it while keeping the sphere hidden behind my hand. Light played around the inside of the enclosure, sparkling against the leaves, and Arial’s mouth fell open as strands of it danced in vibrating streams, like tiny arcs of fire.
“Do more colors,” she breathed, transfixed, practically perched in the tree now instead of floating. “It’s beautiful.”
“Can’t, not yet at least. That’s why my parents sent me to school, to train me. And I wanted to see if this school was capable. I’m not so sure, if they can't keep track of all their students.”
“Oh, they are, they are! My father knows, he can tell your parents all about it. He would love to meet you too. He loves seeing the rarer types. You should come over for dinner and show him! Here, take this,” she said, fetching a pen and paper from her side. “This is my address. I’d love to introduce him to you.”
“We’ll see. I still have a few other schools to inspect,” I answered. “Can't make my decision until I've considered all my options.”
“A Boreal, here,” she said to herself. “He would be so pleased, and he'd be happy with me for bringing you. No, don’t even look at the other schools. Enroll here.”
“We’ll see,” I repeated and jumped the rest of the way to the ground. “I don’t want to promise anything yet.”
In the distance, over the fence, I heard a whistle and saw Arial turn back towards the school.
“I must be going, recess is over, but keep this address!” she insisted and pushed the paper into my palm. “Anytime, you are welcome for dinner. Anytime, SC.”
“Anytime,” I answered casually, starting to walk away as she flew back over the fence. I kept a slow wandering pace weaving up the street, letting my feet shuffle along as I peered into shop windows with my hands in my pockets.
Then I turned a corner at the end of the block, lost a direct line of sight with the academy, and ran.
Chapter 5
“What are you doing home so early,” demanded my mother as I entered the apartment, my breath still coming in quick gasps.
“It was career day at school, so there was early dismissal,” I lied as she raised an eyebrow.
“Star Child,” she reprimanded, “there is only so much I can do to keep you hidden. The more you act up, the more attention you draw to yourself, and the more difficult it will be for both of us. Go on, fetch your homework – it’s too late for you to return to school now, but I won’t see that mind of yours go to waste.”
Then she turned to the sink and continued the dishes, shaking her head. After cleaning the sweat off, I returned to the kitchen, opening my books on the table, positioning myself near a window where sunlight streamed inside. Placing my index finger in the webbing under my thumb, I flicked my nail against the skin, concentrating as I imagined pulling the space in that region together, tying it into a swift knot with my mind. Then, in my palm, a black orb formed and started to absorb the sunlight, growing slightly larger with each passing minute.
In that time, our apartment was quiet save for the tinkling of dishware as I fell into the book, practicing the mathematical equations on the pages for a quiz the next day. The air was near still, the air conditioning turned off either from being broken or to save money, as each week it seemed to alternate between the two. And occasionally, I caught the sound of my mother humming an old tune softly, one that I recognized but could not quite identify, fading in and out of my perception as she moved.
But then, the three knocks on the door nearly started me out of my seat.
These were not neighborly knocks, like those when Stephen’s mother visited to borrow the salt, or even strained knocks like when our landlord came to collect the rent, and my mother sent me to raid the couch cushions for spare change while she rummaged together the last dollar. No, these were sharp, quick raps, staccato bursts that didn’t wait for my mother to reach the door before opening it.
“Police,” stated the square-faced man at the front of the trio as he stepped into our kitchen uninvited, a younger man to his left and a middle-aged woman to his right. “We’re looking for a Ms. Alcmene; do you know her?”
“Speaking,” said my mother and forced a smile. “May I ask why you have entered my kitchen, and whether I can offer you any refreshments?”
Cold washed over me as my breath caught in my throat, and the trio squinted at my mother. Somehow they knew, somehow they had found me from spying on the academy. But how? That Arial must have told them or trailed me back. I thought I had been careful, but it must not have been careful enough.
I stared as the head policeman looked about the kitchen, his eyes gliding over me as my mother’s wrinkles deepened and a vein throbbed her temple, but still managed to smile.
“Yes, you live alone, then? Good,” he said, and pulled out a stack of papers, consulting them. “You are the Ms. Alcmene that served as a delivery nurse and exhibit Snuffer powers, correct?”
“Yes, yes,” my mother responded, wiping dishwater off her hands. “A weak form of powers, nothing to be noticed.”
“Nothing to be noticed indeed,” came the reply. “If I recall, that’s the exact purpose of a Snuffer. It's written here that you are measured to be one of the stronger Snuffers, not that that means much. Regardless, your unique services to the state are requested, Ms. Alcmene. You’ll be coming with us at once. We’ve seen to it that your rent has been paid, that your crucial belongings will be transported. Come along.”
“And if I choose not to come?” she inquired, leaning back against the counter. “I already served the state once, quite some time ago.”
“Ms.,” he said as the woman behind him reached to the handcuffs on her belt, “don’t make me change this request into an order.”
“What?” I shouted, pounding my fist on the table. “You can’t do that!”
A bead of sweat trickled down my mother’s neck and the muscles around her smile tightened. For a second, the lead officer’s brow creased, and he looked her over once more in annoyance, tilting his head in slight confusion.
“Ms., there is no time to mumble, and I suggest you show us the respect of enunciating your words. Are you coming of your own volition?”
“The hell she’s not!” I shouted, springing up from the table as my mother’s vein looked like it was about to burst, and she shouted, her voice filled with strain, her face directed at the policeman but her voice at me.
“Shut up and leave! You owe me that!”
I froze, watching as the slap from the officer caught my mother square across the jaw with the back of a gloved hand, knocking her hard against the cabinet.
“The state owes you nothing,” he hissed as the woman turned my mother around to fasten the handcuffs behind her back, forcing my mother’s face to meet mine as it was flattened against the cabinet.
Leave, she mouthed, her eyes pleading, her lip bleeding as I felt myself preparing to cast a force point stronger than I had ever done before, to crush the officers together while we escaped. But
her eyes began to water, and she whispered once more as they started to pull her away, and I found myself paralyzed by her command.
“No, leave.”
The police left the door open, and I watched them enter the squad car from the window. I heard the officer’s final words as I memorized his face, just before the car pulled away.
“We’ve found a far better use for you than a maid, Ms. Alcmene. And I suggest you cooperate. You’re still far enough from Special to be considered a Regular, and I do have witnesses of you putting up a fight. In these circumstances, an accidental fatality would hold up well in the court of law.”
Chapter 6
For thirty minutes, I sat at the kitchen table, staring at where the police car had been moments before. It had started raining before they peeled away, so that a shadow of dry ground was left where the car had been, but now steadily faded away with each passing drop.
In my hand, I flicked the black orb back and forth across my palm, letting it roll in rings around the center. The light for it to absorb was now minimal, but rain danced in through the open window, often changing course to disappear into the shadowy mass. I shuddered as I remembered the policeman’s slap as I cursed under my breath for listening to my mother.
The sphere was growing heavier now as it absorbed more water, and as my thoughts turned as dark as its surface.
I should have done something. I should have stopped them. I know I could have stopped them. I could have saved her. And with her powers, they would never have seen me coming.
It would have been over in an instant.
With a roar, I threw the sphere against the kitchen wall, shaking as the dark mass crashed into the cabinet, then through the cabinet and the concrete wall behind with a sound like rushing water. Forks and knives jumped upwards to meet it from the counter top like bugs to a light, disintegrating as they meshed with the darkness, some of them falling back to the ground, stretched and distorted like hot plastic. And where the orb passed through the wall, it left a hole the size of a bowling ball unlike any I had ever seen – the wood of the cabinet flowing forwards to meet it instead of snapping off in chunks, expanding inwards to follow the orb’s trajectory as it continued into the next apartment, and the next, and then next. I stared through the hole, open mouthed as I saw rain pouring through the other side just as the orb broke through the outer brick layer, and sparks falling from electrical wires.
Star Child: Places of Power Page 2