by J. M. Pierce
Kathy grabbed at her daughter’s arm and gave it a jerk. “Don’t get smart with me, young lady!”
Getting in her mother’s face, Nicole raised her voice and replied, “I suppose they are . . . Mom!”
Kathy gripped both of Nicole’s arms and shook her once more. “Stop it and listen to me!” she commanded. “I’m not asking if it’s true that the police are looking for him, I’m asking if it’s true that he’s dangerous. Does he really have some kind of power?”
Nicole paused, avoiding eye contact with her. It was pointless to hide now. With a broken expression on her face, she quietly replied, “Yes, Mom. It’s true.”
Kathy let go of her daughter and stepped back, placing the palm of her left hand to her forehead. “So you’re telling me that you’re seeing this wonderful guy. . . and oh by the way, he just destroyed one of your friend’s truck with some sort of super-human powers?” she asked, her voice quivering.
Quickly and harshly, Nicole barked back. “Justin is definitely not my friend!”
Faster than Nicole could react, she received a sharp slap across the face. With a pointed finger, her mother stood trembling in front of her. “I told you to stop smart mouthing me. You know damn good and well what I mean. Are you out of your mind?” she screamed.
“Mom, I fell in love with him before I knew anything about the powers. Actually the only reason that I know about them at all is because he saved me from two drunks one night. The only reason that he wrecked Justin’s truck is because Chad was hurting me last night,” she replied, her eyes now filling with tears. She rolled up her sleeves to reveal the handprints left on her arms from Chad’s grip.
“Good God, Nicole; what are you getting into?” asked Kathy as she examined her daughter’s arms.
“Like I said, Mom, he was just trying to protect me,” said Nicole now with tears trickling down her cheeks. “He really is an amazing guy. That wasn’t how last night was supposed to happen at all.”
Nicole broke down, sobbing uncontrollably, and fell into her mother’s arms. Kathy stood rigid at first, confused and angry. With a deep breath, she took her daughter in her arms and held her tightly.
“Honey, I don’t know what to say. This is an impossible situation,” said Kathy. “I don’t think it’s such a good idea for you to be hanging around with this Test.”
Nicole pushed away from her mother. “What are you talking about, Mom? You don’t even know him!”
“Nicole, that’s enough! I’ve learned enough about him this morning to know that I don’t want my only daughter involved in all of this mess!” replied Kathy.
“I’m already involved in all of this mess, Mom! You could say that I caused all of this mess! I love him!”
Nicole turned and ran back into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Kathy stood with her nose only inches from the door. There was no talking to her daughter when she was like this. It was better to let her calm down first.
Nicole pulled a pair of jeans and a t-shirt out of her dresser, and hastily dressed. She needed to find Test. Her every thought was consumed by him. She walked to her door, and cracking it open ever so slowly, peeked through the crack. With neither of her parents in her line of sight, she quietly opened the door and walked out into the hallway. Pausing, she listened carefully to try and figure out where they might be, but could hear nothing. She walked softly down the stairs, placing each foot on the wooden steps as if it were made of glass. As she reached the bottom, she heard her mother yelling in the kitchen.
“I am not going to put up with this, Tom! She is your daughter, too; you go up and talk to her!”
Having heard enough of her mother’s screaming, Nicole quickly walked out the door and to her car. As she sped off down the street, she could think of only one place to begin looking for Test—his house. She was also fully aware that he wasn’t going to be there, but didn’t know what else to do or where else to start.
After a short drive, she pulled into the trailer park. Several police cars were parked up and down the street. Two were unmarked, and one was a patrol car. If the police were watching his house, then they hadn’t found him yet. She pulled into the driveway and noticed the poor condition of the trailer. The daylight put a whole new perspective on the neighborhood. Instead of the fear brought to her by the darkness of night, the light left her pitying the inhabitants of the neighborhood. As she stepped out of her car, she could see the air conditioner on the ground and trash bags covering the windows directly above it. She had suddenly become extremely nervous. Test hadn’t really ever talked about his mother, but Nicole held an unpleasant image in her mind of who Maggie Chase was. She had heard things. Feeling that she’d come too far to turn back, she stepped up onto the porch, and as she reached the second step, the door opened. Maggie stood in the doorway and looked at Nicole through the tattered screen. She had initially looked hopeful, but in the instant that she’d discovered it wasn’t her son at the door, she quickly became subdued. Nicole had never even seen pictures of Test’s mother. She looked horrible, standing in the doorway like a scarecrow waiting for the harvest. The large bags under her eyes showed that she had been crying heavily.
“Hello, Mrs. Davis. My name is Nicole.” The sun was shining brightly in her eyes and forced her to squint. She was thankful for the interruption of eye contact.
Maggie looked at the girl and pushed open the screen door. “Hello, Nicole. Won’t you come in?” asked Maggie.
Nicole entered the trailer and was amazed at the simplicity of the home. She looked to the floor and noticed the piece of wood protruding from under the couch. She also noticed the entertainment center, and the empty spot where a television would be. Looking around the run-down home, she felt a sudden wave of sadness. Nicole walked to the kitchen area and stood by the table, unable to start the conversation. She didn’t have to worry, the silence didn’t last long.
As Maggie closed the door, she turned to Nicole and asked, “I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything from him, have you, hun?”
Respectfully, Nicole replied, “No, ma’am. I’m sorry I haven’t. I was hoping that you had.”
“I haven’t seen him since late last night,” replied Maggie as she pulled out a chair for her guest.
Encouraged that he had come home after the party, she remained silent for a moment, unsure of what Maggie did or didn’t know. “He came here last night? Did he say anything?” asked Nicole carefully.
Maggie returned her question with a mischievous grin as she took a seat at the table next to Nicole. “He told me about last night, yes,” she replied, smiling at Nicole’s desire to protect her son. “You know, he is very fond of you.”
Nicole blushed as she bashfully looked to the cracked linoleum floor. “I’m very fond of him, too, Mrs. Davis.”
“Call me Maggie, hun,” she replied, gently patting at Nicole’s arm.
Maggie grabbed at a pack of cigarettes and a lighter sitting on the kitchen table. Placing one in her lips, she struggled to light it; her hands shook steadily. Once she lit the cigarette, she inhaled deeply and then forcefully exhaled the cloud of poison away from Nicole. She stood limply and walked to the living room.
“I don’t know where he’s at, Nicole,” she said bluntly, her back still facing the kitchen.
“I need to find him, Maggie. I need him,” replied Nicole as she stood up.
“I had a friend call me this morning. He said that he had heard on the police scanner earlier that someone had spotted Test at a gas station a couple of miles from here. When the police arrived, he wasn’t there anymore.” Maggie cried as she sat down onto the couch. “My only son, my baby, is walking around the city all by himself. He’s in trouble, and there isn’t a damned thing that I can do to help him.”
Nicole sat beside Maggie and draped her arm around her lovingly. “Maybe we could look for him together?” she asked with an innocent smile.
Maggie wiped her eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath. Placing a hand on Nicole’s
knee, she replied tenderly, “I’d like that, hun. I could stand to get out of this house, that’s for sure,” replied Maggie, continuing to wipe her tears.
“Have you had breakfast yet?” asked Nicole.
With a chuckle, Maggie replied, “No, hun. I’m not usually a morning person.”
“Would you like some? My treat.”
“I see why Test likes you. You are just as sweet as you are pretty,” replied Maggie. “Breakfast sounds good.”
They stood and walked to the front door. Maggie slipped on her sandals, and as she opened the door asked jokingly, “Have you seen my new neighbors on the street?”
“You mean the cops?” asked Nicole.
“Yes. I don’t think I’ll ever have a moment’s peace again,” replied Maggie. She stopped briefly, mid-thought, and stared into space. “You know, it’s funny. I’ve wasted so much valuable time these last few years. Now all I want is to be with my son and to be left alone. I sure do wish I could get that time back.”
“You’ll be with him again, Maggie; we all will. This will work out somehow,” said Nicole. In reality, she was scared to think about the outcome.
They walked down the stairs and to Nicole’s car, getting in without discussion. As they drove away, one of the unmarked cars pulled out and followed them.
“Look, your new neighbors appear to be coming to breakfast with us,” Nicole jested.
Without comment, Maggie turned the air vent to blow on her face. She had never owned a car with working air conditioning and tried to absorb every precious wisp of cool breeze.
“So how long have you and Test been going out?” asked Maggie with her eyes closed, still relishing the cool air.
“Honestly, I’ve had a crush on your son for years. I guess you could say that we’ve only been dating for a few days, but it sure feels like more,” replied Nicole.
Trying to block the craving for a cigarette, Maggie fidgeted in her seat. “So did he ask you out first, or did you ask him?” she asked.
“I asked him to my house to help me with a homework assignment,” replied Nicole as she tucked her hair behind her ears.
With a genuine smile, Maggie replied, “Ah yes. I’ve used that one myself.”
“Did you know that Test is a poet?” asked Nicole. “He’s actually pretty amazing.”
“No, not really,” replied Maggie slumping in her seat, and sounding depressed. “I’m afraid, sweetheart, that I haven’t been a great mother to him. There are probably quite a few things that I don’t know about my son.”
Nicole knew that Test and his mother hadn’t been close, and she didn’t want to press the issue. Struggling with the line of conversation that she had started, she searched for the right words to say. “For what it’s worth, he really is a great guy. That’s got to mean that you did something right,” she replied.
Unconvinced, Maggie replied, “Thank you, hun. That’s good to hear.”
Nicole looked up the road a ways and, seeing several restaurant signs, tried to decide where to go. “Dennzie’s sound good to you?” she asked.
“That actually sounds great,” replied Maggie. “I haven’t been there for a long time.”
Nicole pulled the car into the parking lot and took a spot a little ways away from the entrance. As she and Maggie walked towards the restaurant, they had forgotten about the car that had been following them and didn’t notice that it had parked a short distance away.
Chapter 14
Hard Truths
For the second time in the same day, Test was awakened by the hand of Cliff Johnston.
“Rise and shine, son; time to get goin’,” said Cliff.
As Test opened his eyes, he was unsure where he was. Slowly, the moments of the previous night started to gel together and form a memory. Groggy and confused, Test watched the room spin around him.
“What time is it?” he asked.
“A little after noon,” replied Cliff. “We gotta do some figurin’. You’re all over the news. The whole world is lookin’ for you.”
Startled by the old man’s words, Test sat up sharply. Cliff, now standing in the doorway, held his unlit cigar clenched between his teeth. He looked more frail this morning than Test recalled him appearing the night before.
“So, do you ever light that thing?” asked Test as he wiped his face; the dust from the previous night’s outdoor adventure had settled in the corners of his eyes.
Cliff plucked the cigar from his teeth. “I used to. Don’t do it no more though. Gettin’ too old to be temptin’ the reaper to come any sooner than he needs to,” replied Cliff with a straight face.
Test sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, a slave to his thoughts and worries. “What am I going to do?” he asked.
“I don’t know, son,” replied the old man, walking back to Test and sitting beside him. “We’ll figure it out.”
They sat silently for a few minutes, neither able to find the words needed, until Cliff turned to Test and asked nonchalantly, “Is it true what they’re sayin’ about you? You really have special powers?”
Test looked sincerely at his new friend. It was odd; the old man asking the question as if it was nothing special. His tone was the same as it would be if he were asking him to pass the butter. Regardless, Test didn’t want to scare Cliff, but at the same time, he wanted to be honest. Dragging his feet to answer the question, he sat idle and looked at his arms as they rested on his lap. “Yes, sir; it’s true,” replied Test.
“Now don’t go startin’ with that sir talk again!” barked Cliff in a grouchy tone. Unfazed by the young man’s response, he asked, “Well, I don’t suppose you’d show me somethin’, would ya?”
Taken aback by Cliff’s acceptance, Test replied, looking confused, “Yeah, that’s the least I could do for you . . . I guess.”
He got up out of the bed and walked out of the room. He walked into a tiny hallway lined with old, heavily worn, brown shag carpeting. The hallway led to a tiny, dimly lit living room that was directly tied to a proportionately tiny kitchen. Pictures of what Test assumed were Cliff’s family, were all over the walls. The house smelled of mothballs and cigars. It was a strange combination for sure, but it didn’t bother him. Test was used to his house smelling like a bar so this was actually a pleasant change. Test walked to the front door and parted the heavy cloth curtain that hung over the window. Carefully, he peeked through the window, making sure that his face wouldn’t be seen. Deciding that something outside would be too risky, he turned back to the old man.
“What are you thinking, Cliff? I seem to be short on imagination this morning.”
“How about turnin’ on the radio?” replied Cliff with a curious inflection.
Test laughed. The old man stood in the kitchen wearing gray sweat pants, a white tank top undershirt, his glasses dangling from a shoelace around his neck, and gnawing on a wet old cigar. Test couldn’t help himself.
“What’s so funny, young man? I don’t recall saying somethin’ funny,” said Cliff defensively.
“No, no, my friend, I’m not laughing at you. Turning on the radio was actually one of the first things that I did, on purpose anyway, when I was practicing my powers. It’s only been a few days, but it seems like forever ago,” replied Test as he rubbed the back of his head, trying to resist the urge to laugh.
“I see. So you can do it then?” asked Cliff again, seemingly annoyed.
“Well, yeah,” replied Test, now feeling a little uneasy.
He spotted a radio across the room on the kitchen counter. It was the type that had a big silver button on top of it that had to be pushed down. He walked to the kitchen and stood by Cliff.
“Watch close,” he said with purpose. Test raised his right hand and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and opened them.
Cliff watched the radio intently. He could clearly see the button depress, but the radio didn’t turn on.
“Oh that’s nice,” said Cliff. “I guess pushin’ a button down ain
’t like it used to be, is it, son?” Cliff laughed as he poked at Test’s side.
Annoyed by the old man’s teasing, Test examined the radio and saw that the electrical chord was unplugged. “Keep laughing . . . sir,” he replied.
Cliff stood calmly and watched the power cord rise up like a serpent. The plug end moved smoothly, dragging the chord along the counter behind it. Angling to the wall, the plug inserted itself perfectly and effortlessly into the outlet. Instantly, the radio came to life.
“How’s that, my friend?” asked Test.
“Spectacular,” said Cliff as he casually took a seat at the kitchen table.
“Are you okay?” asked Test.
“Why wouldn’t I be? You think I’m a little old for that kind of . . . excitement?” asked Cliff with a wink and a chuckle. “I never thought I’d see the day. I knew you was somethin’ special.”
They sat at the table sipping coffee and sharing pieces of their life stories with each other as Otis Redding played on the radio in the background. As Otis faded into a news break, Test thought he heard his name. He raised his hand and turned up the volume from his chair, catching the report mid-sentence.
“. . . of a violent teen last night has taken the spotlight this morning,” said the newswoman. “Test Davis, age seventeen, is wanted for questioning regarding an incident that some are calling impossible. The incident occurred last evening around ten o’clock in a rural field thirty miles outside Lincoln. When asked about the release of a minor’s name in an investigation, authorities acknowledged that ordinarily they wouldn’t have released Mr. Davis’s name, however, the circumstances surrounding the event warranted the call.
“Mr. Davis reportedly destroyed a fellow student’s vehicle while at a party. Ordinarily, this wouldn’t be top news except that eyewitness reports are saying that Mr. Davis did all of the damage with some sort of special powers including the ability to move objects without physical touch, and the ‘melting,’ if you will, of solid objects. And as if that wasn’t enough, it is reported that he actually possesses the ability to fly.”