by Jane Toombs
“Sounds great.” Danica picked up her jacket from the back of a chair.
“Another rendezvous with Galt?” Lydia asked.
Danica shook her head. “Evan invited me over.”
“Oh, Evan. The heartbreak kid in person. We’ve all had a fling with Evan. He flits from flower to flower like an inconstant butterfly. Just don’t get serious and you’ll have fun.” Lydia smiled, then sighed. “He’s the best-looking man around, that’s the trouble.”
“I never even thought of asking if you wanted to go out for a while this evening,” Danica said. “I’m not used to being a housemother. It’s a lot different when you work an eight-hour shift and then go home.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll let you know. Dave does take me to Porterville now and then and we have a wild time in the city.” Lydia made a face. “God, how I miss San Francisco sometimes.”
“Well, see you later.” Danica let herself out and walked along the path to Evan’s. She watched the sky, but no more meteors fell to a fiery death. She thought about what Lydia had said. Galt and Melantha? Melantha was beautiful, any man would be attracted. Why should it make any difference to her? She and Galt could be friends; it was foolish to be disturbed because Lydia hinted Galt and Melantha were lovers.
Evan was still putting his crew to bed. Jodie’s eyes lit up when she saw Danica. “Danny,” she called. “Danny.”
Danica helped Evan tell the stories and give the final hugs, and then they were out in the living room alone. He sat on the couch next to her.
“Want a drink?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“I hear you toured the countryside,” he said.
“News certainly travels.”
“Can’t say I blame him. I wouldn’t mind a twilight ride with you myself.”
Was this the same Evan who had held her at arm’s length last night?
He took a strand of her hair in his fingers. “Seems like it ought to burn my hands,” he said.
“Maybe it will,” she said tartly, annoyed with him and not knowing why. Was it because Lydia had warned her this was a game he played with all the girls? Surely not. She wasn’t serious about any man herself.
“Tell me about Star-Fire,” she said.
Evan groaned. “I’m off duty temporarily.”
“No, I mean—how did Galt come to start this place?”
Evan sighed. “He’s a school administrator, got interested in working with mentally disabled kids, met Melantha (who’s a psychic phenomenon if there ever was one), and they teamed together and came up with Star-Fire.”
“They’re the only originals?”
Evan shook his head. “No, the Williamsons came with them. She’s a psychologist, he’s a teacher. The Williamsons are the backbone of the place. Galt raised the money; he’d been in the private-school milieu and knew where to get money.”
“And Melantha?”
“She brought along the light energy, the feel for what each child needed. Without her, Galt wouldn’t have Star-Fire. A place for disabled kids, yes, just another school for them, the same old methods used everywhere else. Melantha had a vision of psychic energies being released in these kids and making them…” He broke off.
“Making them what? Not normal, nothing will do that. The parents aren’t led to believe their children will…?”
“No. Don’t leap to conclusions. The kids are better here. Happier. They learn skills the parents are thrilled to have them master. No, Star-Fire doesn’t promise miracles.”
But Danica had the feeling Evan was saying something different from what he’d begun to say.
“Now can we stop talking?” He reached out and pulled her close, and bent his head. Their lips met.
His were warm, insistent, and she responded for a moment before pulling away.
He raised his eyebrows.
“Let’s not rush into anything,” she said.
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to.” Suddenly she needed to get away from Evan, from his touch, his nearness. She stood up. “I’d better get back to Lydia. We have some things to talk over and I’ve hardly seen her all day.”
Evan shrugged. “If you say so.”
“What time shall I come by in the morning?”
“Nine. Amy’s in my group tomorrow and Galt wants you here for that.”
“Do you think I can help Amy?”
Evan looked at her without answering, then got to his feet. “Who knows?” he said. “It’s all a gamble. See you at nine.”
Danica walked slowly along the path to Lydia’s. My house, too, she thought. I suppose I’ll come to call it that. She shook her head. Not yet, not now. Too much strangeness at Star-Fire for her to feel at home here. She found herself scurrying along, head down, and realized she was frightened. Why?
With an effort she raised her head and took a deep breath. The night air was cold, carrying an unidentifiable aromatic scent almost like eucalyptus but not quite. The stars blazed above. Skin prickled along her neck. Something watched her, she could feel the eyes and turned her head, but there was nothing to see in the dark.
She stopped moving. “Who’s there?” she demanded.
She felt a touch on her ankles, soft and furry, and gasped, then sighed. Dido. The big cat rubbed against her twice and then was gone. Danica walked quickly toward the house. Silly to feel Dido was going to report to Melantha. What was the matter with her, anyway?
Lydia wasn’t in the living room. Danica hesitated outside Lydia’s bedroom door and then decided not to risk bothering her to ask for the bug spray. Surely there wouldn’t be a scorpion in her bed every night.
But when she came into her room and switched on the light she immediately knew something was different. A cold prickle of fear shot along her spine. Again she felt unseen eyes. “Who’s in here?” she asked.
There was no answer.
Was that a flicker of motion? Yes, there between the dresser and the wall in the shadow, something crouching…
Danica took a step backward, intending to retreat to the hall and shut the bedroom door on the intruder and call for Lydia. She paused as an idea struck her.
“Amy?” she asked softly. “Is that you, Amy?” The huddled shape shifted and stood erect, and Danica saw she was right.
“How on earth did you get into my room?” Danica said. She moved slowly toward the child. “What a nice surprise to have you come to see me.” She was close now and Amy made no gesture, standing quietly with her grey eyes fixed away from Danica’s face.
Danica crouched down so she was on Amy’s level. “I’m glad to see you,” she said. The little girl didn’t respond. Somewhat to Danica’s surprise, she didn’t reach to finger Danica’s red hair.
Suddenly Amy twisted around and jerked open one of the dresser drawers. The clothes Danica had laid so carefully inside were a jumble, and Danica realized Amy had been rummaging through her things. The girl reached into the drawer and drew out the fused meteorite. She held it in both hands carefully. Without looking at Danica, she brought it up to her chest and cuddled it as though she was holding a doll.
After a moment Danica said, “That’s my arrow amulet, Amy, my lucky charm.” Did Amy nod? Was she responding?
“Do you understand what a charm is?”
The nod was unmistakable, although Amy still didn’t look at her.
“I can’t give it to you, Amy.” Danica didn’t know why she said the words, didn’t understand the prickling of her skin as she watched the child clutching the meteorite to her.
“Maybe you can borrow the arrow for a while.” The uneasiness lifted from her as she spoke. “We can share the amulet,” she added, remembering Amy was a Sagittarius, too. “The arrow is your sign and my sign so we can have the same lucky charm.”
Amy nodded twice, then, still holding the meteorite in both hands, she skirted around Danica and was out the door before Danica realized Amy was leaving. The outer door opened and closed. Amy was gone.
<
br /> After a moment, Danica turned back to the dresser. She smoothed the clothes back into order. Then she opened the other drawers to do the same, but they were neat, everything the way she had left it. Had Amy come looking for the amulet, only disturbing the drawer it was in? And once she found the charm, why had she left it in place, waiting until Danica came back to take it out? Almost like asking permission. But wasn’t that assuming too much? After all, the drawer was one of the lower ones, the easiest to reach for a small girl. And how could the child know of the amulet?
But Danica was disturbed. Amy’s behavior was not typical of a mentally disabled child. First, how had she known this was Danica’s bedroom? Or did she prowl in everyone’s room? Somehow Danica didn’t think so. But if Amy had come here knowing this was where Danica slept, it argued an intelligence unusual in a mentally disabled child. Unless Amy wasn’t disabled. But then why…? Why was she here at Star-Fire?
Danica shook her head. She’d have to see more of Amy. Nothing anyone had said indicated the little girl was not disabled. Had Amy really understood what an amulet was? If so, it meant intelligence. But anyone can nod whether she understands or not. Strange that the child had found the arrow, the sign they shared between them. The only two Sagittarians at Star-Fire, Galt had said. Coincidence?
And how did Amy manage to be out at night when all the other children were in bed? Didn’t Melantha watch her? Danica recalled Melantha gathering up the little girl the night before at Galt’s. Then she realized the sense of fear hadn’t surrounded Amy tonight. Confused, Danica shook her head again. Time to go to bed. She’d learn more about Amy, and Star-Fire, tomorrow.
She flung the covers back, but there were no deadly insects between the sheets. She thought of Galt and the shooting star that had crossed the sky when they were out together. She’d hoped then to never harm Amy. Was that a wish? She’d never before wished on a falling star.
Night, darkness all around, and fear as tangible as the prickly leaves of the bushes she crouched behind. The child whimpered once and was silent. Far away a dog howled. Amy’s cold hand was in hers and she clasped it close for comfort. There was movement, lights in the darkness, and she looked up to see meteors streaking across the sky. A meteor shower. Someone—Galt—had said November was the time for this. Galt? Was he among those who followed, silent and menacing? Other lights flickered now, close to the ground, and she knew they must run again, she and Amy. But the little girl was exhausted and so was she. No use in running, the alien voice whispered once again within her mind. You’re powerless against me…
Danica jerked awake, sat up in bed, and turned on the bedside lamp. She was alone in her room. A dream, she’d had a bad dream, that was all. But she shivered as the dream fragments drifted in her mind.
Chapter Eight
Amy was at Evan’s the next morning when Danica arrived. A flash of grey eyes, then Amy ducked her head and pretended not to see Danica.
“Hello, Amy.”
A child darted out of the circle Evan was forming. “Danny, Danny,” she screamed, clutching at Danica’s hand.
“Hello, Jodie,” Danica said, putting her arm around Jodie to lead her back to Evan’s group.
There was a sudden rush, a push, and Jodie fell to the floor while Amy ran away from them into the kitchen.
“Bad,” Jodie sobbed. “Bad girl.”
Danica knelt beside her. “You’re all right,” she said. “Just a little bump.” She eased the child to a sitting position as Evan bent over them.
“Is Amy usually that aggressive?” she asked him. “Pushing others down?”
He shook his head. “She never touches anyone.” He knelt, too, and their faces were inches apart. “Jealousy is my diagnosis.”
I should move away, she thought. But Evan’s blue-green eyes were smiling into hers, and she remembered the warmth of last night’s kiss.
Jodie edged between them and buried her face in Evan’s chest. “Poor Jodie,” she said.
“Hey, you sympathy grabber,” he told her. He got to his feet and hauled Jodie upright. “You weren’t hurt all that bad. Let’s go make our circle.”
“Kiss,” Jodie insisted. Evan lifted the girl up and kissed her on the forehead, put her back on her feet.
“There. Now the circle.”
Danica went into the kitchen. Amy was sitting under the table.
“Do you know what I see every morning in my kitchen when I go to fix breakfast?”
Amy said nothing, and didn’t look at Danica.
“I see a boy named Maxwell sitting under my table. He sits under that table every chance he gets. Do you know Maxwell ?”
Amy didn’t answer.
“Why do you think Maxwell likes to be under the table? Is he afraid?” Danica sat on the floor near Amy. “Is he angry?”
Amy turned her head slightly.
“This morning I asked Maxwell why he was there, but he doesn’t talk much. He laughed at my question. He knows why he’s under there, but he isn’t going to tell.”
Amy moistened her lips with her tongue.
“I don’t suppose you know the reason either, why Maxwell does what he does.”
The words came out in a whisper Danica had to lean close to hear.
“He’s dumb,” Amy said. “That’s why.” A thrill shot through Danica. I knew it, she exulted. Amy isn’t disabled, she followed everything I said and she answered me. Amy can talk.
“Well, if you think only dumb people sit under kitchen tables,” Danica said, “Then why…?”
Before she finished speaking, Amy slid out from under the table and stood up. She touched Danica’s head. “Your hair is red,” she said, and Danica held her breath, waiting for Amy to continue.
“Like his.” Amy took her hand away.
Danica got to her feet. “Like whose?”
Amy turned her face away.
After a moment Danica spoke. “Whoever he is, I’m not him. I’m Danica. You can call me Danny if you…”
Amy swung around. “No,” she said in a fierce whisper. “She does—that Jodie.”
“Who’re you talking to?” Evan stood in the kitchen doorway. Danica opened her mouth to tell him about Amy, then looked back at the girl and saw the terror in Amy’s eyes.
Frightened of Evan? Oh, no, surely not. Afraid I’ll mention her talking, that’s what’s wrong; she doesn’t want anyone to know yet.
“I’m talking to Amy,” Danica said.
“And?”
“She’s listening.”
Evan grinned. “Maybe,” he said. He gestured at the other room. “Are you going to join the group?”
Danica shook her head. “Not today. I think Amy and I will go for a walk and get better acquainted.”
“I wish you luck,” he said.
Once outside, Amy led the way. They climbed off the path to the top of the hill behind Evan’s house. Below them lay a small valley. The vegetation was sparse, only a few live oaks clustered together near the bottom. They started down, skirting the large rocks that dotted the hillside.
Danica waited for Amy to initiate conversation. She knew she must be wary or Amy might reject her.
“You won’t tell,” Amy said finally.
It wasn’t a question but Danica responded. “No, I won’t let anyone know you can talk. Not unless you want me to.”
Amy shook her head.
“Do you want to tell me why you need to pretend to be like the children here?”
Amy didn’t answer, and once again Danica sensed the child’s fright, like an almost-tangible aura surrounding both of them.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Danica said. She longed to stop and put her arms around the frightened girl, but remembered how Amy stiffened in response to a touch. “But since you are here at Star-Fire, you’ll have to be fair to the others, the children you think of as dumb.”
“They are dumb.”
“But they can’t help it, ever. Someday you’ll be better. They won’t. They’ll always
be children, even when they grow up physically. Because you can think quicker you have to be kind to them. Jodie’s like a two-year-old who’s just learned a new word and made a new friend. You wouldn’t shove a two-year-old baby onto the floor, would you?”
All the time she talked to Amy, questions circled in Danica’s mind: Why is this child here? Who’s responsible for bringing her to Star-Fire? Who else knows she’s of normal intelligence? What happened to Amy to leave her damaged enough to want to hide here?
Danica wished she could share the problem with someone, but knew she couldn’t. Not yet, not while Amy was so afraid of everyone except her.
On the valley floor, granite boulders poked from the heavy, cracked soil. Amy climbed one that nestled into the hillside and Danica followed to sit beside her. The sun warmed them though the air was chill. A crow cawed in the distance; otherwise there was silence. Danica closed her eyes and drew in her thoughts, gathering awareness. After a few minutes she activated her energy flow by thinking her star on, then felt the white light flow through her. She opened her eyes.
“Let’s use the energy,” she said to Amy. “I’ll…” Danica stopped, shocked by the horror on Amy’s face. “What’s the matter? Have I said something to frighten you?”
“She—she…” Amy couldn’t bring the words out.
“I won’t do anything you don’t want,” Danica said. “But I’d like to tell you what I meant.” She waited a moment, but Amy said nothing.
“Did you know we all have a white star of energy six inches over our heads? Some people claim to see these stars. I don’t know, I never have. Sometimes I think the star may not really be there at all, but the energy is available to any of us, and thinking about a star lets us tap into the source of the energy, whatever that may be.”
Danica looked over at Amy. “Do you want to hear more?”
Amy nodded.
“The white light is how I think of the energy flowing through me because I was taught by an instructor in a college class to see it that way. This energy is never harmful. All it can do is help you become more healthy mentally and physically.”
“It doesn’t make you—see things?”
“What kinds of things?”