The Third Eye

by B R Coelho

  “Hi Dad. Missed you.”

  “Missed you too hun.”, he gives me a peck on the cheek

  “And how’re you doing honey-bun?”, he moves in closer to mom still holding me. Mom chuckles, drops her cooking spoon and hugs us both. We now all smell like spicy refried chilli. It smells delish.

  “Mmm chilli, my fave”, Dad says releasing me from his hug.

  “Mom, Dad, I was wondering whether I could go for a slumber party at my friends house tomorrow night.”, I ask feeling this was the perfect time to ask.

  “Woah, you’re already making friends? That’s great, sure honey. Who’s your new friend?” Dad asks cupping my shoulders in his large hands. Normally, I’m not really that great at friend-making, but Cathy and I hit it off almost instantly. Quite the shocker.

  “Cathy Bennet, she’s lived here in Arlington all her life. We’ve been talking a lot about California.”, I say. And how I terribly miss every single moment of being there, my old friends and the old neighborhood in the small tenement building we used to live in. Apartment number 42. Of course, I couldn’t say that otherwise we would be back to arguing about why moving out here to Arlington is better for us financially and health-wise as a family. Most of what happened with our move here had to do with Nana.

  Nana had lived on her own for a while, and Dad decided to take her in. He said that she was getting older and sicker with each passing year. Something to do with Alzheimer’s disease. It made you slowly start losing your memory piece by piece. Dad didn’t want to keep her in a retirement home and so we ended up hosting her in our tiny apartment. As you’d imagine it was hell.

  From the moment we met, we despised each other immediately. I wonder whether it was because of the language barrier between us. My broken Spanish probably revolted her, just as much as her broken English irked me. My Dad remarked on how similar we were in behaviour. I honestly couldn’t see what similarities we had. She was old. I was young. We certainly did not see eye to eye on a lot of things. She was always grumpy and complained about every single thing.

  Nana would complain about mom’s cooking, my taking too long in the bathroom, my disrespect for her and so on and so on. It would get tedious at times but I finally began to tolerate her. We’d been living together now for two years. My remedy for her would be to avoid her at all costs. I made sure that I never made any sort of contact with that haggard old crow.

  I walked by her room and placed an ear on her door. I could hear the sounds of her Spanish soaps in the background. I loved them a lot, but couldn’t stand to watch them with her. She never liked me watching with the sub-titles on and would always belittle me for not knowing ‘a decent lick of Spanish’. That’s what Dad would translate from her Spanish tirades about me.

  I hadn’t seen her since the move, she had been cooped up in her room ever since L.A. It felt good not to talk to her. I texted Cathy that I’d be in for the slumber party tomorrow. I couldn’t wait to meet her other friends.

  Friday morning, I make sure I am not late this time. I’ve been dreading going in to math class the whole night. Tossing and turning running the scenarios again through my head, trying to convince myself that what I did was right. Ms. Stanger is already there. She gives me the eye, the death glare of a wounded witch. I glance away unable to bear the heat. Octavia is also giving me the death glare and half the class too. I guess they’re all on her side. I just wish this period could go faster. I’ve never wanted a math session to end so quickly in my life.

  Look on the bright side, Selena. I tell myself. At least you weren’t kicked out of the school for cheating. I think I could bear this pain and torture for a couple of years, until we either move or I age out and go to college. I so wanted the former to be true, but I knew that was impossible. The period went rather awkwardly. Ms. Stanger handed back the tests, and went over the questions in class. Most of the kids around me were none too happy about their marks. A few of the kids seem to have done well, me included. It was a hollow victory for me though.

  After the class, Ms. Stanger calls me over. She smiles ever so devilishly and tells me:

  “I think we got off on the wrong foot yesterday, I just wanted to welcome you to our school and I hope that everything here will be to your satisfaction.”, she says icily. This is uncomfortable on so many levels. I mean I almost cost this woman her job. If only I could read her mind and try to figure out what heinous plan, she had for me.

  “I hope to learn from you and do well in my studies, Ms. Stanger.”, I instinctively reply, hoping not to further stir the pot with a snarky comeback. She was trying her best to intimidate me, but I was going to take it in stride. We stared at each other for another tense five seconds before I broke eye-contact with her and walked off.

  Cathy Bennet’s house was a mansion. It wasn’t overly large compared to the houses on Beverly Hills, but for Arlington, New Mexico, it certainly stood out. My parents met her Dad when they dropped me off. He was taller than my Dad, had jet black hair and Cathy’s eyes. Her parents had divorced when she was younger. So, I guessed that Cathy must have taken on after her mother. They chatted for a bit with the usual adult small-talk nonsense. Her Dad owned a major factory in town that manufactured all different kinds of sweets. Inside the house there was no shortage of it.

  I met Cathy’s other friends, and tonight was sort of an initiation into the fold. I was still in shock at how our friendship had been progressing. This wouldn’t have happened in L.A. for sure. I met Brianna Lopez and Lauren De la Cruz.

  They almost looked like sisters. Twin sisters. They were actually totally unrelated. Each of them wore their hair in the same style, that brunette in tassels look. Really old-school type fashion. Brianna was a little on the chubby side and wore glasses. She looked like a nerdier and chubbier version of Lauren. We started the night by playing truth or dare in Cathy’s room.

  Cathy’s room was huge. She had a large queen bed draped in a bright pink comforter with a myriad of small red and white pillows, tucked into the left corner of the room. She had a large mirror-slash-dresser-slash-make-up parlor on the right. And in the middle was a large island of white fluffy cotton rug. It felt like heaven walking on it barefoot. Her walls were painted a light eggshell brown, and it smelled strongly of fruity perfume and nail polish.

  “Truth.”, Brianna said pushing her loose-fitting glasses up the bridge of her nose for the umpteenth time.

  “Okay, okay, okay, who do you have a crush on in school?”, Lauren asks.

  “Umm…okay guys you’ve got to promise me you’re not going to tell anyone alright?”, Brianna says sheepishly.

  “Sure…sure”, we all say in unison.

  “Pinky promise?”, Brianna asks, unconvinced with our answer.

  “Brie just say it no-one’s going to tell the school who your crush is. And even if they did it’s not going to be the end of the world.”, Cathy is getting irritated at this point.

  “Okay, okay…Jake Simpson.”, Brie blurts out.

  “Ewww!”, Lauren starts.

  “Hmm! He’s…interesting.”, Cathy says a look of disgust on her face.

  “Who’s Jake Simpson?”, I ask.

  “Weird, super-quiet guy who’s really into anime.”, Lauren says slowly shaking her head at Brie, as if she had just made the biggest blunder.

  “I think he’s hot… In a cute sort of way.”, Brie continues unfazed by everyone’s disapproval.

  “What’s wrong with Josh Norman? He’s waaay hotter than that weirdo.”, Cathy says almost berating Brie. Brie shrugs.

  “He called me ugly once in third grade, and I never liked him since then.”, Brie pushes her glasses up her face again.

  “Selena, your turn.”, Cathy changes the subject.

  “Truth or dare?”

  “Truth.”, I say without hesitation.

  “Okay, did you cheat on your math pop quiz, and if you did, how did you do it?”, Cathy asks non-chalantly.

  I stare at the girls for a couple of moments. They
all stare back at me with blank expressions. How the hell did they know that? Did Octavia tell the whole freaking school about it? Does the whole town know about it?

  “First of all, that’s like two questions. Secondly…umm, why would you me ask that?”

  “We’ve…heard some rumors around school, mostly from the blonde octopus and her gang.”

  “Blonde octopus?”, I ask eyebrows arching.

  “Oh…right, you’re still new! That’s our nick-name for Octavia.”

  I sputter-laugh and everyone joins in.

  “Oh my god, her head is ginormous.”, I admit.

  “She’s literally Squidward, if he was blonde, annoying and extra-snobby.”, Lauren says, amid a fresh round of guffaws and snickers.

  “Octavia the octo-queen.”, Brie says, muddying up her delivery, but still deemed laughable.

  At this juncture, I’m still wondering whether I should tell them the truth. I just met them this week. Cathy had been pestering me about it all week, but I didn’t feel it was right telling her. I didn’t want it going around school. Obviously, it was too late now. And I’m not sure I could trust them enough with my secret just yet. And if I did tell them, I’m sure they wouldn’t believe my explanation.

  “So, did you do it? Did you cheat? Come on you can tell us the truth. Promise we won’t tell”, Cathy prods, as Lauren and Brie lean in.

  “No, I didn’t.”, I lie. Well technically it is the truth. I didn’t cheat, the classical way, I used telepathy. They’re giving me blank expressions. The room’s silence is almost deafening. The anticipation in the air is almost stifling. Like an expanding balloon about to pop.

  “C’mon you can tell us, no one’s going to say anything.”, Lauren remarks, leaning in closer, as if I was about to spill the beans.

  “Are you psychic?”, Brie asks, out of nowhere. The whole group starts laughing. I’m partly relieved at their laughter. At the same time, I’m terrified that Brie’s guess was so accurate.

  “Yeah, my mom used to be psychic but she lost her power when she got older.”, Brie states almost as a matter of fact. The room erupts with another round of laughs.

  “Seriously Brie?”, Cathy chimes in.

  “My dogs psychic too, he knows just when I’m about to feed him.”, Lauren joins in, I’m holding my sides now. I can’t breathe with all the laughing. I’m having such a good time right now. I don’t want it to end.

  “Guys, if I was psychic, don’t you think I’d be playing the lottery instead of going to school?”, I say my voice taking on a matter-of-fact tone. The laughter continues.

  “By the way, did you guys know that Octavia and Stanger Danger are related?”, I ask, trying desperately to change the subject.

  “No way…”, Cathy mutters, her jaw drops. As does everyone elses. The look of shock on their faces is palpable.

  “Yup! She’s her aunt!”, I quip, running a hand through my curly hair.

  “Octavia is Stanger Danger’s aunt?”, Brie asks, her eyes widening and her slack jaw exposing her braces make her look even more comical.

  “No silly, Stanger Danger is her aunt”, Cathy says, chuckling softly as she shakes her head.

  “So, what happened? How did it come out in the principal’s office?”, Lauren asks, her head resting on her palms as she leans in a bit more.

  “I told them I overheard Octavia telling her friend about it. Also, Stanger Danger is her tutor too.”, I tell them the same old lie, hoping they eat it up. They do. Every single morsel. Their loud gasps and exasperated sighs tell me so.

  “Woah! Woah! Woah! You mean to tell me that uppity bruja who thinks she’s smarter and better than everyone is related to her own teacher?”, Lauren remarks, standing up in excitement.

  “Ho! Ho! Wow!”, Cathy says as she claps her hands together, an expression of pleasant surprise on her face.

  “Is she going to get fired? Please tell me she’s getting fired.”, Brie blurts, her glasses are oddly askew now.

  “I doubt it.”, I say, remembering what Octavia said to me, in her little threat speech.

  “Why not? They’re liars and cheats.”, Lauren barks, waving her hands in frustration.

  “Lauren, you, Brie and I know that Octavia’s Dad is chairman of the school board. And her family’s been influential in our town for a while.”, Cathy states.

  “Yeah! She threatened me, later that day about it.”, I say, curving my mouth comically in mock sadness.

  “Oh! Did she now?”, Lauren says, sitting back down and crossing her legs.

  “Yup! She did! I was honored to be honest.”, I say, my voice brimming with sarcasm.

  “Don’t worry Selena. If she tries anything, we’ve got your back.”, Cathy says, pressing her lips together. She has this determined look in her eyes, like she meant it. I’m glad to have them as friends.

  “Thanks guys.”, I say.

  The rest of the night went well. We played some board games, and ended up watching a couple of shows on Netflix.

  The next day I head home with my mom telling her how much fun I had at the slumber party. At home I’m rewriting my notes from the previous week in my color-coded binders.

  I get this sudden overwhelming sadness. It’s like a wave of emotions crashing into me. As if someone I loved had just died. This triggers my anxiety almost immediately, and as you already know by now triggers my telepathy. I begin seeing visions of a young boy being dragged by a group of men. He looked strikingly familiar, but I couldn’t place his face.

  Was this Nana’s memory? Was I reading her mind? Then I heard her voice scream in my head as clear as day. The vision is too intense, I get up and walk over to her door down the hall. I put my ear against the door.

  Nothing. Nothing but silence. Is she dreaming I wonder? Could she be dying? I begin to panic. I begin knocking on the door feeling the emotion of dread and despair getting even worse. I bang harder and the emotions cease. The door to Nana’s room slowly opens.

  Chapter Five

  Nana’s eyes are wet and she’s furiously drying them. She’s adjusts her grotesquely large glasses. Their size is a very close tie with Mr. Toole’s. She blows noisily into her handkerchief. Ew, gross!

  “Que?”, she snaps, realizing it’s me. Immediately her guard is up, and she’s staring at me suspiciously. I’m at a loss for words. I don’t know what to say. How can I tell her I heard her thoughts, and saw she was in pain? She’s getting impatient and quickly begins to shut the door. I have to think of something quick.

  “Gomez!”, I finally say. The creaking of the door stops. She pulls the door open wider. Her mouth is open with an expression of shock I’ve never seen on her before. Her ever grumpy face is now softer and warmer than usual. Tears begin to form at the corners of her tired eyes. She lets me into the room.

  The T.V. is on and it’s playing one of her favorite soaps. She switches it off with the remote. Nana’s room is much larger than mine. I hadn’t even stepped in here since the move. On the far left next to her bed is her shrine to our ancestors.

  It’s an ofrenda. A tribute to those who are dead. But it’s been almost a year since the last Dia de los Muertos. There’s a picture of a young boy framed.Why would she still have it set up so soon? She sits on the rickety chair dragging it to face the bed, and motions for me to sit on the bed. The mattress is soft, and sinks in all the way. We sit facing each other now, staring. The scent of incense and flowery shampoo hangs in the air. This seems weird. Why is she staring at me like that? All of a sudden, I hear her voice in my head. I freak out.

  Woah?! What the hell? It’s subtle at first and a little weak, but I can hear her speak clearer and clearer. She’s speaking in Spanish to me. I can’t understand a lick. Then the voice dissipates. Then almost immediately, before I can recover from the shock. She speaks to me again, it’s in Spanish, but now I can totally understand her. Like my brain is translating whatever she’s saying to English. It’s incredible. She’s also sending me images and visions that are describing he
r words.

  How was I using my telepathic powers though? I wasn’t being triggered by any form of anxiety.

  “I knew you were like me. But I never thought your powers would develop to this level so quickly.”

  Nana says in perfect English, at least that’s how my brain is interpreting her thoughts and emotions. To an outsider we must look crazy. Sitting there looking into each other’s eyes as if we’re in a staring contest. First one to blink or laugh loses.

  “Nana, why didn’t you tell me. All this time I’ve been looking for someone to explain what was happening to me? I just…”, I’m beginning to babble, still in shock over the realization that I’ve finally met someone who is like me. And what I had been searching for had been right under my nose the whole time.

  “I didn’t always know, not until two years ago. I tried to, but you wouldn’t understand. I can’t speak English. It must have been so hard for you, chiquitita, but I didn’t think your powers would be this strong. I can feel it, you’re even stronger than me.”, Nana speaks again.

  “So, this…what is it that we are doing? How are we understanding each other?”

  “This…this is the language of the gods. That’s what my mama used to say to me. To speak without words, but understand completely what is said.”

  “My great grandma?”, I ask my eyes widening. Was this power hereditary? Had it been in my family for generations. Was Dad a telepath too? All these thoughts were popping up in my head.

  “Your great grandma, she was like us too. And no, your Papa is not like us. He does not have the gift.”

  “So, what is this power we have? Where does it come from? Are there others out there like us?”

  All my thoughts start pouring out. My anxiety is kicking in and my obsessive thoughts are crowding out our conversation. I can’t seem to stop it. It just keeps going on and on and on.