Mindspeak

by Sunseri, Heather

  Lexi, can you still hear me? I’m coming.

  The figure reached for me. My internal alarm sounded, and a small voice told me not to let him touch me. I jumped back and rubbed my arms from my elbows to my shoulders in a hug. “Who are you?”

  “I just want to show you the truth. I know you have a power they want. You could cure your grandmother and help so many others in this world. Take away so much pain on this earth. Wouldn’t you like that? Your grandmother would recognize you, and she would no longer feel any pain.”

  “I’d like that,” I whispered.

  “Jack wants that, too, Lexi.”

  “Jack?”

  “You and he are a team. Together, you could heal and comfort. You’d live a life of wealth and happily-ever-after.”

  “I don’t care about wealth.”

  “But you love your grandmother. You don’t want to see her hurt, do you?”

  “Of course not.” Was he threatening me?

  “And you love Jack.” I nodded. I did love him. “And Jack loves you. He needs you, Lexi. That little girl will die without you. Accept who you are, and you’ll be with Jack forever.”

  “But I don’t know if I can help Addison.”

  “Of course you can. You were created to do so. Jack will try to push you away, but you were made to help people just like Addison and your grandmother. Don’t let Jack send you away. He doesn’t have that right.”

  I wanted to help others, didn’t I? That’s why I wanted to become a doctor.

  My gram had suffered from Alzheimer’s for the past six years. She’d stopped recognizing me altogether five years ago. Oh, what I would give for even one more conversation with her. To let her know I loved her and that I would live my life to honor her and Dad. To take her pain away.

  Would that be wrong? I was so confused. Would that infringe on God’s will?

  “Lexi!” I felt pressure on both arms. My head bobbled back and forth. Someone shook me, interrupting me from my thoughts. “Lexi, wake up.”

  The figure disappeared and in his place was Jack. “Jack?”

  “It happened again. You were sleepwalking.”

  I looked around. “But someone was here with me.”

  “No one was here.”

  “But…” I stared at the intensity of Jack’s blue eyes.

  “What did this person say?” Jack’s hands continued to rub my arms.

  “He said that I needed to accept who I was.” I searched Jack’s face for the guidance I needed, but he didn’t have the answers. Only I could decide what to do next. I knew exactly what that was.

  He smoothed the hair on either side of my head. “You said it was a man?”

  I tried to picture the figure. “I think so. I thought I recognized the voice and the eyes, but…” I gave my head a little shake. “Everything’s so unclear.”

  Jack gazed intently at me. “You have to go.” He reached in the satchel draped across his body and thrust a small bag into my chest, forcing me to take hold. “Take these documents. Keep them close. And tell no one.”

  “Jack, no. I can’t run. And there’s no way I’m leaving without telling Danielle.”

  “You have to. What can I do to make you understand?” He ran his hands through his hair, squeezing his eyes tight. When his eyes returned to me, he spoke in a low, husky voice. “Lexi, someone has already tried to kill you twice. If you refuse to do what they want, they’ll try again. And if they succeed…” His voice cracked. He slid his hand around me, settled it into the small of my back, and brought my body flush with his. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.” He kissed the top of my head.

  “If that’s true, how can you push me away?” I thought of the figure’s words, “Don’t let Jack send you away.”

  He released me, held me at arms’ length. “You think I’d put you in danger just to keep you close? That would make me one selfish jerk.”

  I knew in that moment what I had to do. “What now?” I asked.

  He glanced at his watch. “You have practice. You’ll only be a few minutes late, but you better hurry.”

  I raised a brow. “You want me to go to practice?”

  “I want you to go about business as usual. Act normal.”

  “Normal,” I repeated, narrowing my gaze. The last person who instructed me to go about my routine died in a car explosion.

  “Yes, and I’ll see you at the gala tonight.”

  “Tonight? And that’s it?” Dread surged through my voice. “You’ll see me at the gala, and then send me on my merry way?”

  “This is for your own good, Lexi. I won’t let them get to you.” He pushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  Uninvited tears surfaced. This was what I had wanted, right? To get away from this school. To live a normal life. Become a doctor and help people with the love, kindness and the type of medical care they teach in medical schools.

  I didn’t want the kind of life Dad had. The kind that played with human life by trial and error. Often error.

  Jack’s eyes stared into mine, looking for reassurance that I’d do what he proposed.

  “I’ll see you tonight,” I said, deflated.

  The back of his hand brushed my cheek. He slid his hand around to the back of my neck and leaned in. He tilted his head. His lips touched mine softly at first then he pressed harder, taking from me like it was his last chance. I felt the effects of the kiss everywhere. A surge of energy started at his touch to my neck and traveled all the way to my toes.

  When he released me, he kept eye contact and his lips curled into a slow smile. “We both know Dani will ask, so I’d like to know if you’ll be my date tonight?”

  A tear streamed down my face. Jack wiped it away with his thumb. I nodded. Anything else and I’d lose the courage to do what I had to do next.

  With another quick kiss, Jack turned and walked off toward the boys’ dorms. I took off in the direction of the aquatic center.

  Before I entered the building, I pulled out my cell phone and called Seth. “It’s time I learned how this power of mine works… I’ll figure out how to get in and out of Wellington unnoticed. Just come get me.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “How exactly does the ability work?” I asked.

  Gram sat up in her wheelchair knitting by the window. Seth stood by the door while I knelt beside her. She smiled, giving me that look I remembered getting every day after school when I was younger.

  I placed a hand on her forearm.

  “In theory,” Seth began, “you have to be able to imagine the injury or the disease. In this case, the diseased brain.”

  “Like I did when we were here before.”

  He nodded. “And you have to know what her brain would look like if it were normal. In simplistic terms, you would use your mind to move and massage the parts of the brain needing healing.”

  I sat in a chair and leaned my elbows into my knees. “So, basically, I have to have knowledge of the disease, much like that of a doctor.” I leaned my face into my hands and rubbed. This was hopeless. I was no doctor.

  “Yes and no.” Seth moved further into the room and stood closer to me. “You have much of the knowledge that you need. You took the classes. Eventually, you’ll go to medical school and know even more. But…”

  I lifted my head when his voice trailed off. “Go on.”

  Across the room, Seth flipped through Gram’s chart. “This is not about cutting a person’s brain open and doing surgery.” He looked up from the chart and focused on me. “You were created for this. You have been given a gift of healing.”

  His words slid down my back like ice cubes, chilling my very soul. “A gift,” I whispered. Could I turn my back on a gift? Wasn’t I obligated to learn and appreciate the gifts I’m blessed with in life?

  This didn’t feel like a gift to me. More like a curse. What if I failed?

  Concern etched lines across his forehead as he continued to f
lip through Gram’s chart.

  “What is it?” I stood and walked closer.

  “Do you know full extent of your grandmother’s health conditions?”

  “You mean the Alzheimer’s?”

  “It’s more than that, Lexi.”

  I raised both brows, urging Seth to continue.

  “Your grandmother has an inoperable cancer, and she and your father decided she would not undergo other treatments.”

  “What?” I grabbed the chart from him, but I had no idea how to read the dang thing. “Why would my father not urge Gram to get the treatment she needed?”

  “She has a very specific living will in here. She doesn’t want to be treated. Just to be kept comfortable and pain free, if possible.”

  I backed away from him. Leaned against the wall and bent over at the waist. So even if I wanted to cure Gram, to have her recognize me one last time before I was out of her life forever, I couldn’t. “So I won’t be able to help her? Not even a little?”

  Gram’s knitting needle clattered to the floor.

  I rushed to her side, picked up her needle and placed it gently in her shaky hand. “I am so sorry, Gram, I didn’t know how to help you sooner.” If I’d only known. I sucked in an uneven breath.

  “We don’t know if you even could have helped her, Lexi.” Seth’s voice startled me. He stood close. “We don’t know what you can do. Or at what age your ability would have developed. The fact that I had to show you how to see her brain tells me that you might not be ready yet. Those pills you were taking may take a while longer to wear off. Besides, a condition like Alzheimer’s is tricky. There’s a lot to consider with a disease like this.”

  I spoke without looking at Seth. “What about Addison? You don’t think I could help her, either?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Why are we even talking about this? Aren’t you planning to run away tonight?”

  I stared at my grandmother’s facial features. She was beautiful. Each hard line leading away from her eyes represented a life well-lived. Every laugh line along her lips represented a decade of happy memories.

  She had devoted so much of her life to raising me. Made me self-sufficient. Showed me how to help others. How to love.

  What did I have to show for it? What would be left of my life after tonight? Another new name. A new high school transcript. Passport. License. A new me.

  Would I be different, act different with a new name? Would I regret not helping those I loved? Would I regret leaving Jack behind?

  He loved me. I saw it in his eyes the night of our very first date.

  I closed my eyes and bowed my head onto the arm of Gram’s wheelchair. “Tell me what to do.”

  “Jack thinks you should leave,” Seth answered, though I wasn’t asking him. “I can’t say as I disagree with him. It’s probably for the best.”

  “Why are you helping me? Jack said you would drive me to the bus station.”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “I just don’t get it.”

  “You don’t need to.” Seth walked to the window. He kept his back to me. “I found Jack for one reason. The same reason I’m glad I found you. To give you the chance to know why you were created and let you choose what you wanted to do with it.”

  “And you’re willing to just let me walk away.” Run, more like it. “Will people look for me if I run?”

  Seth turned. His eyes bore into mine. “There’s no doubt in my mind they’ll look for you and find you eventually. You’ll need to always be moving. Always running.”

  I didn’t want to hear any more. “Can I have a moment alone with my grandmother before you take me back to Wellington?”

  ~~~~

  I entered the dorm room like a zombie. Danielle was digging through her closet, thrilled to be getting all dolled up for her debut into the art world, even if it was a stupid school gala.

  Where’d you go?

  Jack’s voice inside my head sounded nervous. I had to say goodbye to Gram.

  That’s good. I’m glad.

  I could almost hear relief in Jack’s thoughts. He didn’t even ask how I got to the nursing home and back. He probably knew.

  Can you meet me before the art showing? he asked. I want to be alone with you before… Before the dance.

  He wanted to say good-bye. I swallowed hard. I couldn’t think about that right now.

  “Lexi, are you even listening to me?” Danielle shook two dresses in front of me. “Which one?”

  I crossed an arm across my chest and cupped my chin with the opposite hand. The dress on the right was a pale pink dress, strapless, with a pleated skirt. Simple. Elegant. On the left hung a black sheath dress. Tiny rhinestones decorated the straps.

  Lexi? Did you hear me?

  Yes, sorry. I’ll meet you. Where? The stable?

  No, on the roof. Twenty minutes.

  Okay.

  “Is something wrong?” Lexi dropped the dresses to her side. “You hate them both.”

  “No. Of course not. They’re both lovely. One says, ‘I’m a sweet high school girl going off to prom with a guy who has one thing on his mind.’ The other screams sophistication and ‘I’m an artist going to my first art show’.”

  “Well, that was easy. Basic black it is.”

  “Oh, honey. There’s nothing basic about that gorgeous dress.”

  “You think so? You like it?” she asked as she slid it over her long, skinny legs—legs I’d donate a kidney for.

  I had never heard such a lack of confidence from my roommate. “Of course. It’s beautiful. And perfect for you.”

  “Is the Wi-Fi back up?” I asked, glancing at my clock. Did I even have time to run to the library?

  “Don’t know, but Bree left her computer so that I could finish the project we were working on. She’s got a card that is working somehow.”

  “Really? Do you think she’d mind if I looked something up?” Who was I kidding? Of course she’d mind. But this was the first chance I’d gotten to test my theory of the whereabouts of the journals.

  The fact that the Wi-Fi was still down was more than a little worrisome. Not to mention the cell towers that seemed to be going in and out of service.

  “Yes, but she’s not here.” Dani lifted the computer from the bed and handed it to me. “Password’s SWIM2016.”

  I lifted a brow. “The next summer Olympics?” Dani nodded. I sat the computer on my desk and booted it up.

  Dani leaned into her dresser mirror. “Okay, I think I’m ready. I’ll see you there?”

  “I’m right behind you. I just gotta check something on the internet.” I stood and gave my roommate a tight hug. “I love you like a sister, you know that, right?”

  She hugged me back, then held me at arm’s length. “Hey. You okay?”

  I gave a weak nod. “Yep. Now, go on. Your date’s never going to be the same after he sees you.”

  She gave me one last concerned look, before grabbing a wristlet, big enough for a key and a tube of lipstick.

  I turned my attention back to Bree’s computer. I brought up the website and stared at the tiny starfish in the bottom right-hand corner. I ran the pointer over the icon verifying there was no underlying link. Then, using the knowledge my dad had taught me, I left the pointer hovering over the starfish and pressed Ctrl + Alt + *.

  As I my finger pushed down on the asterisk, the pointer changed to a small hand, indicating a link was, in fact, hidden beneath the small picture. I clicked on it, and suddenly the website of pictures and personal facts disappeared, and in its place appeared a login screen.

  I stared at the gray screen. I tried my name and Dad’s name every which way along with the password I found inside the puzzle box. Nothing.

  I absentmindedly rubbed the charm and the key hanging around my neck. I was certain that the password was correct. It was so difficult to obtain. It had to be right.

  But what would Dad choose for a u
sername?

  I rubbed the starfish back and forth along my lips. That’s when it came to me. My father’s personal email address—he only used it for communication with me.

  Mylittlestarfish@gmail.com, after the nickname he gave me when I was a little girl.

  I typed it into the username field—mylittlestarfish. Then the password.

  The screen faded to black in front of me. A moment later, various icons flashed upon the screen—several PDF documents, word documents, and an excel spreadsheet—all labeled.

  I didn’t have time to look through every document. I pulled up my online email account and emailed each of the documents to myself so that I could pull them up on my phone later.

  I double clicked on the PDF titled “Journals 1988-1994”—a six-hundred-twenty-four-page document. I glanced at my watch. I didn’t have time. But I had found them. My father’s journals that everyone wanted so badly.

  Another PDF was titled “Journals 1995-2010”. And still another titled “Journals 2011-”. The third one had no end date.

  An excel spreadsheet titled “Survivors” caught my eye. I double clicked. The columns were labeled: Name, Known aliases, Last known address, Original, Genes manipulated, Known abilities.

  What was this? Most of the names were filled in. But many fields for address or known abilities were blank.

  I looked up and stared at a picture on a shelf above me of Gram, dad and me from when I first came to Wellington. We’d changed my name. This was supposed to be a safe place for me. Dad always said the name change was to protect me because he participated in controversial medical research, but that wasn’t true.

  He was hiding me. While searching for others like me. Did he know about Jack?

  I scrolled through the names.

  There must be over a hundred names.

  I found Jack. Last known address: California. Known abilities: General healing, injuries, pain management.

  Why were there so many listed here? Including mine, Sarah Alexandra Roslin.

  As I scrolled through the list, I began to notice something in common—the last known address for several on the list.