by Amy Clapp
"Cathy? What's wrong?"
"I don't know yet," Oma answered, turning to face me. "Jacey, I can't go to church right now. I need to go to Cathy." She grabbed her purse off the counter and hiked it over her shoulder.
"Yeah...okay." I was relieved we wouldn't be going. My mind was frankly too exhausted. But I was worried about Cathy.
Oma started for the back door which led to the garage. She took the keys to her Buick off the peg by the door and turned to me, her other hand on the doorknob. "Jacey, I'm sorry I didn't tell you all of this before today....I just..."
"Don't Oma. You don't need to be sorry for anything." I knew she was just trying to protect me. My words had a harsh edge to them, much harsher than I had intended. "I understand," I added more gently. "Thank you for telling me now."
I stood and walked over to Oma. We embraced quickly. When we separated, Oma gently ran her bony hand along my cheek. "I love you so much. You are my heart."
I bit my lip, desperately trying to stop the flow of tears yet again.
"I love you too, Oma," I whispered back.
Oma smiled lightly, opened the door, and quietly closed it behind her. I stood staring at the closed door. My mind was whirling. So much had happened today. I stood unmoving.
"Jacey, you know everything now." Varick's voice broke through the jumbled mass of information tumbling around in my head.
Shaking my head, I looked up at the ceiling. "Everything? Yes, I know everything now!" I yelled to the ceiling, hoping wherever Varick was he could hear me. "But, I don't want to know all of this." Angrily, I ran through the kitchen to the stairs and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Once in my room, I slammed my door as hard as I could. I heard one of the pictures hanging in the hallway clatter to the floor. I flung myself on my bed, face down and covered my head with my pillow. Then I screamed as loud as I could.
-Eleven-
I didn't see Varick the rest of the day. It was probably better that I didn't. I was still upset that he hadn't told me the entire story about my parents and I didn't fully understand why he hadn't saved my parents from the Fury when I was a baby. I knew it was unfair to blame him for their demise, but I was upset and angry. I would have taken my emotions out on him.
It had been a long day. So much had changed. Was it really possible that I was the same girl as a week ago? I looked the same. I had the same long brown hair, same freckles, round face, and dimpled chin. Emotionally, I had been changed forever. I was a Healer, a girl with an extraordinary, unexplainable gift to heal with my bare hands. Apparently, I was chosen to share my gift with as many people as I could without attracting the attention of the Fury, an evil creature bent on destroying me. There were others like me in the world, although there were few because of the Fury. And my mother was a Healer, like me, and my father, her Protector. I was mentally exhausted.
Oma didn't come home on Sunday. She stayed with Cathy. Oma had called to let me know that Cathy was sick and the doctors were unsure why she was so suddenly ill. Cathy was being kept at Memorial Hospital in Oakton, the city just south of us, for testing and observation. I was very worried about Oma. She sounded so tired on the telephone. I was reminded yet again of how old and frail she seemed early this morning when I talked with her. But Oma was very stubborn and always thought of others before herself. So Oma was staying with Cathy for a few days since Cathy's closest relatives lived hours away in South Carolina.
I was also worried about myself. I was afraid of the Fury. If it was anything like my dreams, and from Oma's description apparently it was, I had good reason to be frightened. I knew I would be alone for the next few days while Oma was caring for Cathy. Normally, I enjoyed being alone. However, with an evil, shape-shifting monster out to get me, not so much. Although I didn't see Varick or hear him in my thoughts, I knew he was around, watching me. I could feel it. That was reassuring and quenched my fears to some degree.
Sunday evening passed with little excitement or activity, as did the next few days at school. I went through the motions, going to school, sitting in class, pretending to listen to lectures. As I sat in class listening to another lesson about the Bill of Rights, I was struck by the monotony and normalcy of everything. Everything except me. As Ms. Schuster lectured about freedom of the press, Emma leaned over to me from her desk next to me.
"Psst, Jacey. You alright?"
"Huh?" I answered, looking at her.
"Are you alright? You have been so distant since Saturday night. Everything, alright? Did something happen between you and Jamie?" She continued to whisper, glancing at Ms. Schuster, who appeared to be too engrossed in her own lecture to notice us.
"You could say that." I snorted and turned back to my notebook. I wasn't writing lecture notes, but instead doodling. Looking down at the scribbles of ink drawn on my paper, I realized the majority of the scribbles were actually Varick's name. I snorted again.
"Miss Brindle...Did you want to add something?" Ms. Schuster's shrill voice called out to me.
Startled, I looked up. Ms. Schuster was staring at me, waiting for a reply. I didn't have to look around, I could feel the other students staring at me. Instantly, I felt my cheeks and ears flush with embarrassment.
"I...uh..." I stammered uselessly.
"Uh, Ms. Schuster? I do have a question," Emma interrupted, shifting Ms. Schuster's attention from me to her.
"Why, yes, Miss Quarter?" Ms. Schuster's voice twinkled with excitement of answering a real question.
"I wonder how the Freedom of Speech clause protects gossip magazines such as In Touch and the Star? I mean, wouldn't that be libel and therefore unprotected speech?" Emma blinked her eyes, innocently, her face serious as she asked the question.
Ms. Schuster couldn't mask the glee on her face from Emma's question. Clapping her hands together, she excitedly exclaimed, "Excellent question, Miss Quarter. Allow me to explain."
Ms. Schuster answered Emma's question, turning her back to the class to write on the whiteboard. I swiveled in my seat, staring at Emma with wide eyes of surprise and relief.
Emma still sat facing forward, her hands folded neatly and innocently together atop her own notebook.
"How did you do that?" I whispered.
Emma slowly placed her finger to her lips to quiet me. She ever so slightly turned her head towards me and winked.
Leave it to Emma. I could always count on her to be there when I needed her. I shook my head, amazed by Emma's actions. "Thank you," I whispered out the corner of my mouth, facing the front where Ms. Schuster was standing teaching the class.
"You're welcome," she whispered, doing the same. "Hey, now you have to talk to me, tell me what's going on. You owe me," she added quietly.
I rolled my eyes. Yep, leave it to Emma. "Okay, lunch."
Emma nodded curtly, picking up her pen to continue writing notes from Ms. Shuster's lecture. I thought I saw a satisfied smirk spread across Emma's lips. I shook my head in amazement and lifted my own pen. I watched the big clock above the classroom door, impatiently waiting for class to finish. I felt bad that I had virtually ignored Emma the last few days. I had so much to share with her, healing Jamie's injury, meeting Varick, receiving information about my parents. We might have to skip sixth period just so I could tell her everything. But, it wasn't just Emma I had ignored. It was everyone else too. I realized that for the last few days, I had been walking around in a daze, my mind preoccupied with the events of the past weekend. I was grateful for the numbness. It made school more tolerable.
The sharp ringing of the bell signaling the end of third period echoed through the hall. I scrambled to shove my book and notebook into my backpack. I vaguely heard Ms. Schuster call out to us that our assignment was to read Chapters 15 and 16 on Freedom of Speech and Obscenity. I knew I would never remember that assignment. I flung my backpack over my shoulder and quickly headed toward the door and my fourth period Art Appreciation class.
I purposefully avoided Emma as I hurried out the door,
weaving gracefully around slower students. I didn't want to be late for my next class, knowing I would be telling Emma everything soon enough. It didn't work.
"Hey, wait a minute," Emma called out to me. I stopped in the middle of the hallway. The other students around me voiced their frustration at my abrupt stop. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. I turned slowly to see Emma rushing towards me, her pink back pack dragging on the floor behind her.
"Hey, what's the big rush? Sudden art lover?" I knew she was trying to joke, but her voice sounded too annoyed to really be joking.
"I'm sorry. I just have a lot on my mind right now."
"I know. I heard about Cathy, is she going to be alright? Is it serious?"
"I don't know," I answered truthfully. "Oma is still not home. She's been calling every night to check on me and give me updates, but there hasn't been much information. Apparently, Cathy is still having some tests done. The doctor's aren't sure what's causing her severe nausea and fatigue."
"Where is she?" Emma spoke loudly to be heard over the noise of the class change.
"Memorial Hospital in Oakton. I wish they would find out what's wrong. I miss Oma." It might be selfish, but I needed Oma right now. A boy rushing to class ran into me, bumping my back pack off my shoulder.
"Sorry," he mumbled, looking at me.
"That's okay," I replied, hiking the bag back over my shoulder. I took a double take at the boy, who stared at me a little too long for comfort. Cocking my head towards him, I asked, "Can I help you with something?" I had never seen this boy before. He must be a new student. I wondered if he needed help finding his class.
Pointing his finger at me, he stated, "You're Jacey Brindle, aren't you?"
"Yeah," I answered warily, "Why?"
"Oh, nothing," the boy answered back. "I just heard about you is all." He smiled, exposing his yellowed teeth.
"Yeah, I bet," I answered, sighing with exasperation. Emma rolled her eyes, irritated with the boy and his questions. The bell rang again signaling that fourth period was about to start.
"Uh, don't you need to get to class? I know we do," Emma said to the boy, her voice heavy with annoyance.
The boy just continued to stare at me. My eyebrows crinkled together in disgust as drool leaked out the corner of the boy's mouth and down the side of his chin. I felt the hair at the back of my neck stand up slightly.
Emma pulled at my arm. "Come on Jacey. Let's get to class before we're tardy." I turned and followed her. "You're rude," she called out over her shoulder at the boy.
I glanced behind me at the kid as we rushed to class. He watched me for a couple of seconds, and then proceeded down the hall in the opposite direction. He made me uneasy.
"What was with that kid?" I asked Emma.
"I don't know. Some underclassman weirdo, I'm sure."
We reached my Art Appreciation class. Mrs. Bitting was already in front of the class, setting up the projector and pulling down the screen.
"That kid totally creeped me out. Did you see him drooling?"
"Like I said, Jacey, weirdo. Don't worry about it."
"I know...but did you see his eyes? They looked yellow."
"Jacey, I said he's a weirdo. Forget about it."
"Yeah...You're right."
Mrs. Bitting turned her attention to me and Emma standing in the doorway. "Jacey, are you going to join us?" Mrs. Bitting gestured to the rest of the class already seated with their books out.
"Yes, Mrs. Bitting. Sorry."
Emma grabbed my hand before I walked into class. "I will meet you just outside the cafeteria at lunch. You need to spill." Emma raised both of her eyebrows.
"Yes, I know. I'll meet you there after class."
"Promise?"
"Yes, I promise." Emma was persistent. I smiled at her. "Now, get to class would ya. You're making me late."
"Okay, Bye," Emma sais, turning to go to her class down the hall.
"Jacey?" Mrs. Bitting called. "We are waiting for you to start class."
"Yes, Mrs. Bitting. Sorry." And I shuffled into class, taking my seat in the front left corner.
Mrs. Bitting turned off the lights to the classroom and shut the door.
"Alright, class. We need to finish our series on impressionism by studying the works of Claude Monet." She then flipped through various works of art on her slide show. As the images flashed on the screen at the front of the class, I again found my mind wandering. I wasn't paying attention to Mrs. Bitting's excited voice as she described Monet's brush technique and vision. Instead, I thought back to the strange boy in the hallway. Something about him made me uneasy. And his eyes, those seemingly yellow eyes. Normal people didn't have eye color like that. What's wrong with you? Stop this. He is just a new kid at school. Completely harmless. With all the supernatural events around me, I was allowing my thoughts to get the best of me. I felt very ashamed for being afraid of someone who appeared to be different from me. That just wasn't me.
My thoughts were interrupted by the bell. Startled, I looked up at the clock, astonished that class was over. I had daydreamed the entire class. I looked back down at my completely empty piece of notebook paper in front of me. Mrs. Bitting flicked on the classroom light as the other students gathered their books to head out the door. I sat staring at my notebook. Mrs. Bitting, noticing I wasn't moving, came over and stood in front of my desk.
"Jacey, are you alright?"
"Yes...I'm fine, Mrs. Bitting." I closed my notebook and leaned over to retrieve my backpack.
"Well, okay. You just don't look well," Mrs. Bitting said, placing her hands on her hips.
"I'm fine," I repeated standing up while I shoved my notebook and pen in my pack. "I think I'm just a little emotional for some reason."
Mrs. Bitting smiled, pushing her glasses back up her nose with her finger. "Oh, Jacey. I know how you feel. Monet stirs the same strong emotions in me."
I flung my backpack over my shoulder, raising my eyebrows in astonishment at Mrs. Bitting.
"Well, I've got to get to lunch, Mrs. Bitting." A nervous laugh escaped. I left Mrs. Bitting standing alone in her classroom. If Mrs. Bitting thought I was moved by Monet's artwork, then she could think that. I wasn't about to tell her the real reason for my wandering mind and strong emotions.
I walked slowly to my locker. I couldn't help but look for the strange boy, not because I wanted to see him, but rather because my instincts told me to stay clear of him. As I approached my locker, I turned my head quickly side to side. The hallway was almost empty, most of the other students either at lunch or already in their fifth hour classes. I rolled the combination of my lock until it popped open, opened my locker, and placed my backpack inside. I grabbed my sack lunch from the top shelf of my locker. Sighing loudly, I slammed the locker door.
"Hey!"
"Ah!" I screamed, jumping.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," Emma laughed, placing her hand over her mouth.
"Geez, Emma. You did," I panted, taking my free hand and placing it over my racing heart. I had been so wrapped up in my thoughts, that I hadn't heard Emma come up to my locker, where she waited behind the open locker door.
"You don't look so good," Emma said, sounding concerned. "You look even more pale then usual." A smile still played on her lips.
"Ha Ha," I responded sarcastically. "Weren't we going to meet just outside the cafeteria?"
"Yeah, but you were taking too long so I thought I'd meet you here."
Emma's golden hair bounced as she tilted her head enthusiastically. Her smile was infectious and I couldn't help but smile too. I looked at her empty hands.
"Aren't you eating lunch?"
"I thought we would just share yours." Emma's smile broadened.
I shook my head. Emma was pretty amazing. "You forgot your lunch again, didn't you?"
"Now, why would you assume that?" Emma's green eyes twinkled as she placed her hands on her hips. "And yes, I did."
I laughed. "So, where are
we eating my lunch?" I emphasized 'we' and 'my'.
"It's such a beautiful day. The sun is shining, and it looks like you could use a little. So, let's eat in the courtyard."
I nodded. But then I felt the hair at the back of my neck raise up again. Out of the corner of my left eye, I saw a dark figure standing by the drinking fountain. Turning slowly, I saw the strange boy standing at the fountain. He wasn't drinking, just standing there, staring at me. When he noticed me watching him, he raised his hand, giving me a slight wave.
My heart began to hammer in my chest anew. What did this kid want? Emma noticed him too.
"Well, look, Jacey. Seems you have an admirer. "An amused expression played across Emma's face.
I rolled my eyes, letting out an exasperated breath. My defenses tingled.
"Time to go," a familiar voice told me. Varick's voice.
I grabbed Emma's elbow, turning away from the strange kid. "Come on. He's creeping me out. Let's go."
"Okay, Okay," Emma laughed lightly, turning with me.
We walked down the hallway toward the cafeteria and courtyard, but my body was telling me to run, to run far from the strange boy. Instead, I ordered my body to just walk so as not to alarm Emma. We rounded the corner to head out toward the open courtyard. I didn't look behind us to see if the boy was still there. I didn't have to. I felt his yellow eyes boring into my back the entire time.
-Twelve-
"Jacey, slow down," Emma panted, trying to keep up with me. I wasn't running, but I was walking very fast. I didn't slow down. I didn't even look at her.
"Jacey. Stop." I let go of Emma's elbow and stopped, turning to face her.
"What's going on? You're practically running?"
"I'm sorry, Emma. There's just so much to tell you. I'm afraid that if we don't get started soon, we will have to skip sixth period," I lied. I didn't want to scare Emma by sharing my fears about the new kid.
"Really, Jacey, there's no rush. It won't hurt my feelings to miss." She wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out.
I laughed. I felt the same about Calculus. "Well, then maybe we should just go off campus."