Mindscape

by M. M. Vaughan

  “She’s never said any of our names before—not once,” said Daisy.

  They all sat down on the picnic blanket that Maura had laid out for them and started picking at the food.

  “For someone who didn’t get screamed at or forced to write lines, you really do look very unhappy,” said Rex, noticing Chris’s puzzled expression.

  “It’s just so strange,” said Chris, cutting up a piece of cheese. “I don’t trust her.”

  “I agree,” said Philip. “Something’s up.”

  “I do not say this often,” said Sebastian, “but I concur with Rex. I think you should just be happy—perhaps she has simply understood the error of her ways.”

  “I don’t know,” said Lexi, “maybe Chris and Philip are right—maybe there is something more going on.”

  “Thanks, Lexi,” said Philip. “Somebody with some brains.”

  “She just wants there to be something up so that she can pretend to be a superspy and work it out like her boyfriend, James Bond,” said Rex.

  “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t love him: He’s a made-up character in a book,” said Lexi, glowering at Rex.

  “Even more embarrassing that you want him to be your boyfriend, then,” said Rex, taking a large bite of his sandwich.

  “Stick up for me, Chris!” said Lexi.

  Chris, who had been tucking into his lunch and ignoring the usual bickering between Lexi and Rex, looked surprised at being brought in to the conversation.

  “Er, stop picking on Lexi,” said Chris.

  Rex looked at Chris as if he might punch him. “Why don’t you mind your own business,” he said.

  “Come on,” said Chris, not in the mood for arguing with Rex, “I’m just saying be nice—you’re always being mean to her.”

  “That is because he is in love with her,” said Sebastian, matter-of-factly.

  “SEBASTIAN!” shouted Rex and Lexi, both looking equally horrified.

  “You may protest, but this is the truth. I have seen this behavior many times in the literature I have been reading: The man likes the lady, so the man is horrible to the lady. I don’t comprehend—we do not do this in Spain.”

  Chris laughed but was quickly silenced by a deathly look from Rex.

  “The only reason I’m not nice to her,” said Rex, standing up, “is that she’s annoying, she’s always making sarcastic comments, and she doesn’t know when to shut up.”

  Lexi put her hands on her hips and gave a smug smile. “Takes one to know one, Freckles,” said Lexi.

  Rex held his breath as he stared down at Lexi and then turned and stormed off before suddenly turning back on himself, picking up a selection of food in silence, and then storming off once more.

  “Ah, young love,” said Sebastian, grinning. He took a sip from his orange juice and then lay back on the grass to bask in the artificial sunlight.

  “Anyway,” said Daisy brightly, always the first to try to clear the air after an argument, “which mind did you all draw?”

  “I selected Kingston Khan, of course,” said Sebastian, “but it was a complication to draw all the buildings made of mirrors—there was no silver pencil.”

  “Did everybody draw the artists’ minds?” asked Daisy.

  Everybody nodded. They were by far the most interesting places they had all visited: Kingston Khan’s mirrored city, Emily Buckworth’s funfair, where all the memories could only be reached by slides that shot upward instead of down; the blackness of Ann Abernathy’s mind, where all the buildings were lit up in bright neon outlines; and, of course, Valentino Brick’s rain-of-paint mind.

  • • •

  Chris was the first to walk into the classroom the following morning, followed quickly by the others, who were all as eager as he was to see if Ms. Lamb’s peculiar transformation had been a one-off. It hadn’t.

  “Good morning, children,” said Ms. Lamb. Chris hid a grin as he saw that she was wearing a bright-orange flower in her hair to match the sparkling orange eyeshadow plastered in two deep circles around her eyes.

  “Good morning,” they all murmured back as they took their seats and waited to hear what she had in store for them.

  “So,” said Ms. Lamb, standing up from her chair, “what would you all like to do today?”

  Chris didn’t know what to say, but Rex, as always, had an answer ready.

  “We could just spend the morning playing games.”

  Chris couldn’t believe the nerve of him, but Ms. Lamb didn’t raise an eyebrow.

  “Fine, play games.”

  “I’d like to do some work on data retrieval from criminals’ minds,” said Philip. “Sir Bentley said we’re going to start prison visits soon.”

  “Be quiet, Einstein,” said Rex, who was never one to take on any more work than absolutely necessary.

  “You can do that, too,” said Ms. Lamb, looking neither pleased nor annoyed by the request. “That’s chapter twelve in The Ability Training Manual—you don’t need me to read it for you, do you?” For a moment, a hint of the old, unpleasant Ms. Lamb was evident.

  “No,” said Philip, unzipping his bag.

  “Very well. Now, as long as you leave me in peace, do what you like. Well? Off you go.”

  Chris jumped up and helped Lexi and Daisy push the tables together as Sebastian and Rex rushed off to the Map Room to collect the games before Ms. Lamb could change her mind. Philip, disapproving of this lack of interest in learning, sat back in his seat, in his pressed three-piece suit with his hair neatly parted, and began to read.

  “Who’s keeping score?” asked Chris.

  “Anybody except Rex,” said Lexi. “He can’t be trusted.”

  “I didn’t cheat,” said Rex, trying not to raise his voice. “Just because you can’t take losing.”

  Lexi didn’t look convinced. “Fine. Let’s see who wins when Sebastian’s the one keeping score.”

  Sebastian looked around. “We have no paper. Anybody?”

  They all shook their heads and then turned to look at Ms. Lamb, who was bent over and writing on the folded newspaper in front of her.

  “You be the one to ask,” said Sebastian to Chris.

  “Uh-uh, no way—she may be pretending to be nice, but you all know she hates me. You do it.”

  Sebastian sighed and stood up reluctantly. Chris and the others watched as he made his way across the room and stopped at Ms. Lamb’s side.

  “Yes?” said Ms. Lamb without looking up.

  “We, eh, require some paper, Ms. Lamb.”

  “Bottom drawer. Help yourself.”

  Sebastian bent down, opened the drawer by Ms. Lamb’s orange-stockinged legs, and pulled out some paper. He closed the drawer and stood up but didn’t move.

  “Yes?” asked Ms. Lamb once more, a slight hint of irritation creeping into her voice.

  “We require a pen also.”

  Ms. Lamb, without saying a word, handed him one of the pens on her desk and went back to reading her newspaper. Sebastian stared down at the desk for a brief moment before turning and rushing back to the table, his eyes wide.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Daisy.

  “I know what has been the cause of her change!” he whispered. “Her affliction is not sinister, it is an affliction of the heart,” said Sebastian.

  “Pedro, how many times do I have to tell you: English,” said Rex, shaking his head.

  Sebastian leaned in more as a curious Philip edged his way into the group. He waited until they were all huddled together before making his announcement.

  “The woman is in love.”

  Chris and the others stared at Sebastian for a moment, and then, in unison, they all burst out in hysterical laughter.

  “That,” said Lexi finally, tears rolling down her eyes, “is the single funniest thing I have ever heard in all my life.”

  Rex, his face bright red, looked up to say something else but then burst into a loud guffaw, which just made the others dissolve into another b
out of giggles.

  Sebastian glanced over at Ms. Lamb, but her head remained down—she didn’t seem to have noticed the noise.

  “It is true, I tell you,” said Sebastian urgently. “Go up and observe for yourselves. She is doodling hearts on the page of the newspaper.”

  Chris, who was still half laughing, shook his head in disbelief. “That doesn’t mean she’s in love.”

  “Yes,” said Daisy, “I doodle hearts all the time,” she said.

  “Listen to me!” interrupted Sebastian, frustrated that nobody was taking him seriously. “I tell you, she is in love. And the reason that I know she is in love is that she was scribing her name above the hearts, with an arrow and another name underneath.”

  The whole group gasped.

  Sebastian smiled, pleased to have their attention.

  “I can’t believe it,” said Daisy. “What’s the name?”

  “Count Dracula?” asked Rex.

  “Quasimodo?” asked Philip, grinning.

  “No,” said Sebastian, leaning forward, “the man is named . . . Chucklebunny.”

  For a moment, there was a total, stunned silence. And then the whole group collapsed once more into hysterical fits of laughter.

  • • •

  That afternoon, Chris and his fellow pupils were running through the crowded streets of New York City, using their Ability to solve a complicated series of clues that Professor Ingleby had devised for them in their think-tank training, when Rex suddenly had an idea.

  “Chris should enter her mind!”

  Chris, who was in the process of lowering himself into an open manhole, looked up, surprised. “What?”

  “Maintain your focus!” shouted Mars, Rex’s think-tank teacher.

  Rex rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything again until they were all standing at the bottom of the sewer tunnel. With his hands over his nose, he whispered loudly to the others—forgetting, it seemed, that Mars was able not only to hear what he was thinking but to read his mind.

  “Chris is the only one who can enter Ms. Lamb’s mind without her noticing. He should go in there and find out if she really is in love.”

  “Are you crazy?” asked Chris, shocked. “Can you imagine if she found out? She’d kill me. And I mean that literally.”

  “She won’t find out,” said Rex, moving quickly down the tunnel toward where they believed the Egyptian artifact had been hidden by Professor Ingleby, “you’re too quick.”

  “He’s right,” said Lexi, leading the way with a flashlight.

  “It would be interesting to find out what kind of a nutcase would choose Ms. Lamb as his girlfriend,” said Philip.

  “There it is!” said Daisy suddenly, pointing at a small chest barely visible from its hiding place, a hole in the bare brick wall.

  “Excellent—how long have we got left before time runs out?” asked Chris.

  Sebastian checked his watch. “Five minutes to return to Times Square—I believe this is achievable.”

  “Let’s go!” shouted Lexi, grabbing the chest.

  They all ran off back in the direction they had come from, all thoughts of Ms. Lamb momentarily forgotten.

  It was only after the lesson was finished, he had said good-bye to Cassandra, and the think tank had faded into darkness that Chris let himself think about what the others were asking him to do. He was torn. On the one hand, they were his friends and they really wanted him to do this—even Daisy didn’t seem to think it was that bad. On the other hand, it was a terrible thing to do—to enter the mind of somebody to find out something so private. If he was caught, there was nothing at all he would be able to say in his defense. The problem was that the others didn’t feel the same way about the Ability as he had before he had killed the boy, and he knew that they wouldn’t understand if he didn’t play along. He couldn’t explain that he didn’t find using the Ability as funny as they did anymore, or that he didn’t enjoy the games they played with it. He still went along with it all—the food fights, the pranks between themselves—but that was harming nobody. It just didn’t feel as good as it used to, not now that he had seen firsthand how deadly those powers could be. It was only when he thought about his conversation with John, and how he had told Chris how important it was not to fall out with his friends, that he knew he really had no choice.

  Chris stepped out of his glowing red think tank to find the rest of the group waiting for him.

  “Well?” asked Rex.

  Chris sighed. “Fine, if it will get you all off my back, I’ll do it.”

  “Yes!” said Rex, patting Chris heartily on the back as the others cheered.

  What have I let myself in for? thought Chris, suddenly feeling very nervous.

  • CHAPTER SEVENTEEN •

  Agreeing to enter Ms. Lamb’s mind was one thing, actually doing it was something else altogether. As Chris walked into the classroom the next morning, he felt his stomach doing somersaults, and he wondered whether he would be able to go through with it. Then he saw his classmates grinning excitedly and waving him over, and he swallowed hard. He was just going to have to do it.

  “Good morning, everybody,” said Ms. Lamb in a bright-green outfit that included a thick smear of matching lipstick and eyeshadow. And a lime-green beret.

  “Ribbit,” croaked Rex in a whisper.

  “What was that?” asked Ms. Lamb, her eyes narrowing.

  Rex sat up, looking alarmed. “Erm, er . . .”

  “Yes?” asked Ms. Lamb.

  “I was just saying how nice you look today, Ms. Lamb.”

  Chris put his hand over his mouth as Ms. Lamb appeared to consider this. Chris watched, ready for an explosion of fury, but Ms. Lamb suddenly started making a strange sound. It took a moment for him to work out that she was in fact giggling. “Why, yes I do, Rex. Pleased that you noticed. Now, why don’t you all play some more games or something today—I’ll be getting on with some paperwork.”

  She sat at her desk and leaned down to rummage through her bag. Chris turned to see Rex wiping his brow with the back of his hand. Phew! he mouthed.

  Chris stood up and pushed his desk toward the others as they had planned.

  “I can’t believe you just did that,” said Philip as they arranged their chairs around the now-large table in the middle of the classroom.

  “It just came out,” said Rex. “Took me by surprise too.”

  “Well, you got away with it. In fact, I think your charm disarmed her.”

  Lexi giggled. “Maybe Chris will find that she’s actually in love with Rex.”

  “I didn’t know your nickname was Chucklebunny,” said Philip.

  Rex pulled a disgusted face. “That’s not even funny,” he said.

  Chris walked around to the back end of the table and took his seat directly facing Ms. Lamb: the others all sat in a line opposite him to obscure her view of him.

  “Doesn’t this look a bit strange?” asked Chris, suddenly feeling like he was at an interview.

  “Actually,” said Philip, moving his chair around, “you’ve got a point. Maybe I should sit next to you. It makes sense. That way, if she looks up, I can give you a kick.”

  Having come prepared, Sebastian took out a board game from his bag and laid it out in front of them.

  “Right, forty seconds, that’s all we need,” said Lexi, referring to the time that it had taken Chris during a practice run the previous night to enter Rex’s Reception and then get across his mind—the point during which the ears rang to warn the person that somebody was entering their mind. It was precautionary—they all knew that Chris was quick enough to cross a Reception without alerting the person’s mind to the intrusion, but they had all decided it was best to be safe, just in case.

  “Okay, everyone ready?” asked Rex.

  Everybody nodded and then turned to Chris.

  Chris looked round at all his friends. “Is this really a good idea?”

  “Chris!”

  Chris sighed. “Fine, fine. I’m r
eady.”

  “Good. Three . . . two . . . one . . . go!”

  Immediately, they all started shouting loudly.

  “I WANT TO BE RED!”

  “NO, I WANT TO BE RED!”

  “GIVE ME THE DICE!”

  “NO, I’M STARTING!”

  Chris saw Ms. Lamb look up at the noise for a moment before lowering her head and getting on with her work.

  Lexi looked up at Chris. Do it now! she mouthed.

  Chris nodded, turned back to face Ms. Lamb, and let his eyes glaze over.

  • • •

  Chris had been inside Ms. Lamb’s mind once before, in his first week at Myers Holt, where he had sealed his fate as her most hated pupil by finding out her fear of being lonely. That time, his first visit past anybody’s Reception, the cityscape had been filled with blocks—a three-dimensional replica of the colorful mind map that he had committed to memory only moments earlier. Now, as he opened the door from her mind’s Reception and looked out over the cityscape, he noticed how much progress he had made over the course of his training. The city of Ms. Lamb’s mind now revealed itself to be a much darker place than he had first encountered, a mass of menacing Gothic buildings of all shapes and sizes. The skies, however, were blue, a reflection of her good mood, thought Chris, which only made the soot and dirt on the buildings more obvious.

  Chris walked quickly down the cobbled streets of this silent city and tried to ignore the menacing stone gargoyles that sneered down at him from the tops of the buildings. He turned left onto Emotions Street and walked quickly to where the building housing memories and thoughts of love should be. At first, Chris thought that it wasn’t there, but as he approached it he saw that it did exist. Being only the size of a small garden shed, however, it had been hidden by the looming towers of Dislikes and Jealousy on either side of it. He hurried over to the rickety wooden door and looked at the small carved stone sign hanging from a rusty hook over the faded red paint: FAIRLY STRONG LIKES.

  This, thought Chris, smiling, was clearly as close as Ms. Lamb got to feeling love. He opened the creaking door and entered it. There, in the center of the tiny room, was a dark wood filing cabinet with a single drawer, which Chris pulled open.