Charlie jumped up and down then pranced around the room like a kid, squealing in delight. “You’d make a fine cheerleader with that dance bit, Princess,” Sarah teased as she set some glasses and a pitcher of lemonade on the center table.
“I can’t wait till then! You and dad sure know the way to my heart. I love you guys!”
A week later, the Hartley’s opted for the four hour scenic drive to Boston. They drove through Middletown where Wesleyan University regaled them with its sprawling 360-acre campus and well-maintained structures from the early 1800s. Charlie thought being surrounded by old buildings was like stepping back in time.
“I imagine you’ll enjoy Harvard even more,” Carl suggested.
Sarah added, “Founded in the 1600s, it’s the country’s oldest institution of higher learning. The grounds and buildings are breathtaking.”
“It’s amazing when you think about all the students who walked the halls and sat in those classrooms hundreds of years ago,” Charlie mused. “I wonder how much energy people who’ve come and gone leave behind. Could their energy contribute to the brilliant minds that continue to evolve in such places?” Her parents thought it was likely though none of them really knew.
Carl and Sarah took turns at the wheel and reminded Charlie she would have to drive on the way back. “We’ll take I-90 on the way home so you’ll be able to drive all the way, Princess.”
“Sure, Dad. Taking the freeway is just a little over half the time it is taking us now, so I don’t really mind.”
The drive was uneventful. Verdant foliage and pretty scenery filled their senses with nature’s colors. Avoiding the freeway allowed them to better appreciate how beautiful and relaxing America’s back roads were.
At Sarah’s suggestion, they drove to Concord and stopped by Walden Pond State Reservation. As part of the Massachusetts Forests and Parks system, visitors flocked to the protected open space and experienced the pond that inspired writer Henry David Thoreau.
The Hartley’s stretched their legs and joined the guided walks before they sat down to enjoy the cold chicken sandwiches and potato salad Charlie had prepared and packed in the cooler that morning before they left.
As Carl cruised the car through the heart of Boston's Kenmore Square, the Boston Hotel Buckminster straddling the triangular intersection of Beacon Street and Brookline Avenue, came into view. Once the largest structure in the area, the turn-of-the-twentieth-century hotel awed the Hartley’s with its well-appointed guest rooms and facilities.
Sarah was more than impressed. “It’s clean, reasonably priced and strategically located.”
“You sound like a commercial, Mom,” Charlie made fun of her mother. They all laughed at the accuracy of the statement.
The room was more spacious than expected. Charlie was delighted. “I am happily surprised we have a living room area, which is great for three people staying for forty eight hours!”
Carl quipped, “Yes, Princess, we’ve got enough space to get in each other’s way without killing each other.” Mother and daughter laughed.
The next morning was Charlie’s birthday. A whole day’s celebration awaited the eighteen year old. The family decided on breakfast at Fenmore Grill, which was on the ground floor of the hotel. As they waited for the elevator, Charlie said, “I like that the hallways are a bit narrow. Feels like being in a fun maze, sort of like I’m Alice in Wonderland.” Sarah and Carl smiled at the comparison, recalling how Charlie as an adolescent liked passageways and labyrinths.
The breakfast options were incredibly delicious. With fantastic value for their money, the family enjoyed a hearty meal of the famed Fenmore American Breakfast with their choice of dishes, freshly brewed coffee, and natural fruit juice.
The drive to Harvard was such a short one they could have walked. The Hartleys joined a public guided tour along with other guests. The tour of the campus was a three-hour affair, lasting until nearly noon. They began at the Harvard Information Center. The outdoor walk was led by a student who took them through Harvard Yard, providing a history of the university, general information, and a unique perspective of the student’s individual experience.
Charlie separated from her parents to join some incoming freshmen. Admissions officers presented information and answered their questions about college life, financial assistance, academics, extracurricular activities, and residential life. She learned, albeit late, that one could spend a night with a student host to experience residential life firsthand. One could also sit in on an undergraduate class; get a taste of the residence halls, meet students currently enrolled, and visit Cambridge and Boston, but only from October through March.
While waiting for Charlie, Carl and Sarah stumbled into a free ongoing lecture conducted by a renowned theoretical physicist, teacher and science promoter. Dr. Michio Kaku was one of the scientists working to complete Einstein’s unfinished work, better known as the Unified Field Theory. The couple quietly slipped in and sat by the exit doors of the lecture hall as Dr. Kaku discussed concepts of his new book, touching on the future of telekinesis and telepathy, among others.
Unified field theory is a study that tries to explain that all energy phenomenon comes from one source. "For example, light, electricity and radiation are all generated by electromagnetism," Dr. Kaku explained, winking at his audience as if he’d made some kind of joke.
Obviously a charismatic person, the audience was captivated by the lecturer’s quips, keeping them laughing and intrigued at the same time. Sarah and Carl were impressed by his knowledge and skill in conveying scientific and technical concepts to his audience using layman’s language peppered with analogies and parallelisms that resonated with the audience. Dr. Kaku’s lecture was capped by a standing ovation and a flood of people approaching him to have them sign their purchased books.
“Well, I guess we can read Physics of the Mind and do our best to understand what Charlie has and how we can better support and encourage her to use her powers with prudence and safety,” concluded Carl after listening to the end of the professor’s lecture.
Before Sarah could reply, her phone rang. “Hi Princess. Are you done yet? Great, we’ll walk back to the Information Center and meet you there.”
The couple walked hand in hand across the manicured lawn. Harvard was indeed a place conducive to learning. They were proud of Charlie’s wit and intelligence; even prouder she was their wonderful daughter. And here at Harvard, her intelligence would only grow.
Back at the hotel, Charlie, with her hair let loose, dressed in a white Ralph Lauren ladies shirt and dark blue denims tucked in knee high suede brown boots, looking more sophisticated than the Milford high school grad. Sarah watched her getting ready and mused to herself; she’s turning into a lovely young woman.
Carl broke the silence with a clap of his hands and a booming, “Time to go, ladies! We don’t want to be late for the batting practice tour!”
Charlie was all excited to be at Fenway Park for the first time. Built in 1912, the oldest ballpark in the major leagues was the home of Red Sox Legends. Its world famous left field wall, popularly known as the Green Monster, standing all of thirty seven feet and two inches, stretched from left to center field.
A number of people queued patiently by a separate entrance to the ballpark. The Hartley’s lined up just as the gates swung open for the tour. For twenty five dollars per person, they entered the ballpark before the general public.
Charlie told her mom, “Who would have thought sitting in a 1934 seat would stir up feelings akin to what Christopher Reeve felt in the movie Somewhere in Time?”
Sarah nodded in agreement. She had the beginnings of a migraine attack coming and hoped it wouldn’t progress and ruin the day for her husband and daughter. She rubbed her temples while they weren’t looking, hoping to ease the pain.
The guide announced, “This experience concludes atop the fabled Green Monster, where you might catch a ball from batting practice!” Charlie and Carl could barely contain t
heir enthusiasm as they followed the group, hoping to catch a fly ball to keep as a treasured souvenir.
Half an hour before the game began, Carl stood and moved through the bleachers to get some food for his family. Somehow, standard hot dogs, soda or beer, and peanuts, very much complemented a live baseball game. It was impossible to root for one’s team without them. Charlie noticed some kiosks at the stadium offering chicken wings and wine! He hurried so he could be back in his seat before the first pitch.
The crowd at the ballpark was feverish with two popular teams bent on winning. Each team had sustained one win and one loss each, so tonight could be anybody’s ballgame. The Hartleys rooted for the Red Sox, so it was non-stop cheering when Napoli hit a towering blast that soared over the Green Monster and onto the street to turn a 3-1 Yankees lead into a 4-3 edge for Boston.
By the time Jonny Gomes walked in the 7th inning, Carl regretfully turned to Charlie, “Your mom can’t hold up anymore. A quiet, dark room is the only thing that can subdue her migraine.”
Charlie reached out for Sarah’s hand, “Okay, mom. Let’s go back.”
Sarah insisted Charlie stay and enjoy. “No, Princess. You should finish the game. Tell us all about it later.”
Charlie leaned in to hug her mother and replied, “I’m so sorry, Mom. Go back to the hotel now. I’ll finish watching the game and give you a blow-by-blow recount in the morning.”
As Boone Logan replaced Preston Claiborne as pitcher, Carl escorted Sarah back to the hotel.
Charlie stayed up until past midnight when the long homer by Napoli marked a major league-best ninth walk-off victory for Boston. At 8-7 in favor of the Red Sox, the game had lasted four hours and 46 minutes and was worth every penny and every minute the crowd spent at Fenway Park Stadium.
After the victorious cheers for the Boston team winded down, Charlie followed the throng of people to the exit gates. Outside the stadium, along Yawkey Way, a black limousine bearing the Pakistani flag slowed down at the curb close to where Charlie walked, causing a lot of heads to turn in that direction. Plainclothes security surrounded the car’s foreign occupants, moving towards the vehicle bearing diplomat plates.
To Charlie’s left was a short, young woman of African-American descent whose measured moves and darting eyes indicated she was part of the security team. Above the Red Sox Team Store, Charlie’s sharp eyes noticed a lone figure aiming a weapon. Charlie followed the weapon’s direction and saw the red dot laser sight between the woman’s neck and shoulder. She quickly moved towards the target and summoned her telekinetic powers to ward off the shot when it was fired. With hand raised at chest level and body slightly flinching, Charlie stopped the bullet and saved the young lady from being hit. Things happened so quickly and so discreetly, the other security people were oblivious to what had transpired.
Charlie directed her eyes back to the sniper, but he was gone. She turned her attention to the woman who looked too young to be securing a diplomat’s family and asked, “Are you alright?”
“Jeanne!” answered the young woman, who looked flabbergasted yet was all smiles. She stepped toward Charlie in a move meant to end in an embrace.
Realizing she was mistaken for someone else, Charlie quickly extended her right hand to avoid a hug from a stranger. “I’m Charlie Hartley. Glad to be of help.”
Sizing up Charlie with a quizzical look, she gripped Charlie’s hand firmly. “I’m Hilary Matthews. I apologize for calling you Jeanne. I swear my friend and you could be two peas in a pod,” she finished, doubt in her voice.
Hilary bent down, picked up the slug, and showed it to Charlie. “This slug is from a Taser XREP. It is designed to temporarily disable a target.”
Charlie had no idea there were Tasers that could fire shotgun shells from a distance so she said nothing.
“Thank you for saving me from neuromuscular incapacitation. I wonder if I was mistakenly targeted. Did you see the person who shot at me?” asked Hilary
Charlie felt her face flush in embarrassment. “I’m sorry; I didn’t pay attention to the person. I just saw him aim at you and the bullet came soon after.”
Hilary’s eyes swiftly scanned the area. Charlie wasn’t sure if she was looking for someone until the young lady spoke again. “I know it’s awfully late but I’m starving. I didn’t think the game would last that long. Why don’t I buy your dinner somewhere close by? Give me a chance to express my gratitude.”
Charlie looked at her watch. It was a quarter past one, and her parents might be worried, but she was hungry too. “Sure, Hilary. Let me make a quick call to my folks. They probably won’t pick up now but I can leave a voice message.”
Charlie explained she and her folks were visiting from Milford to watch the Red Sox versus Yankees game.
Charlie asked Hilary how she knew where to go eat, as it was obvious the young woman was not from Boston.
“Those girls walking ahead of us… I listened.”
Charlie complimented Hilary as they followed the group of young girls heading towards Boston Beer Works, which was only a minute walk from where they were. “I’m impressed at how adept you picked up information so easily.”
Hilary explained, “Observing people’s behavior and catching bits of their conversation comes pretty handy every now and then.”
Over a shared full rack of tender, fall-off-the-bone ribs served with whipped potatoes, sautéed green beans and cornbread, Charlie learned that Hilary was on an assigned mission to help safeguard the family of a visiting diplomat from Pakistan.
Charlie stared back at Hilary, hesitant but curious. “I hope you won’t be offended, but you look so young to be safeguarding anyone.”
Hilary smiled and nodded in agreement. “I expected you to say that, Charlie. I’m seventeen and look younger than my age. Officially, I am a senior student at the American National Development, Research and Education Institute, or ANDREI, which is based in Kit Carson, Colorado. My school trains people with superhuman powers to develop and control their abilities.”
Charlie’s hand froze with her fork in midair, potatoes clinging precariously. “Do you...I mean, there is such a school for people with superhuman abilities?” she eagerly inquired.
Hilary smiled and patted her hand. “Yes, Charlie. And rest assured we are trained to protect our kind, which means my knowledge of your telekinetic powers is safe with me.”
Debating whether Hilary was bluffing, teasing or being truthful, Charlie spoke quietly, “I appreciate your assurance, Hilary. Not many people really understand.”
Hilary continued to expound, “Stopping the slug when you did was quite impressive. It indicates your senses are even keener than the other security agents who were with me.”
Charlie made a mental note to find ANDREI online for verification. “So tell me more about your school,” she pressed.
But Hilary wasn’t listening. She fished something out of her purse, pulled out a photo of her and another girl, and handed it to Charlie.
Charlie almost fell from her seat. “Is this Jeanne, your friend who looks like me?” The striking resemblance was too obvious to ignore. The hairstyle was different, otherwise, everything - facial features, body shape, and hair color – were identical. Charlie was oddly drawn to the locket Hilary’s friend was wearing.
“Now you know why I called you Jeanne,” Hilary justified as she put the photo away. As they enjoyed their chocolate mud pie topped with whipped cream and crushed nuts, Hilary unveiled her story while Charlie listened with growing interest.
“Jeanne and I met at the orphanage when I was five. My mom died when she went into cardiac arrest shortly after I was born. I vaguely remember my father leaving me to watch cartoons on television while he went to work. One day, a social worker came to the house and took me away from him. I never saw him again.
“Jeanne was there since she was a baby. We kind of magnetized each other for some reason. We became foster kids, usually on Thanksgiving and Christmas, but for some reason, no on
e wanted to adopt us. Jeanne learned to toughen up through the years. She’s gentle but knows when to fight back and when to trust her instincts.
“I was the quiet, shy and introverted one, but I am quick learner, so we gravitated towards each other. By the time we were adolescents, we were the oldest at the orphanage. Together we made a formidable team who picked up the cudgels for the bullied kids. That’s how we cemented our friendship and became best friends.”
Charlie was thoughtful. Instinctively, she began rubbing her chin with her right hand. “That’s wonderful, Hilary. Sounds like you have a sister, friend and sidekick rolled into one. What happened to her?”
“I’ll be damned, Charlie!” Hilary suddenly blurted out.
“What’s the matter, Hilary?” a surprised Charlie asked, looking around.
“That thing you just did - rubbing your chin like that. That’s what Jeanne does when she thinks and weighs her words.”
“Really? What a coincidence,” Charlie said thoughtfully. Then she repeated her question, “So what happened to Jeanne?”
“Last year, we both joined ANDREI. But she was transferred to another location. We didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye,” replied Hilary.
When Hilary probed Charlie, she blurted out non-specific answers which did not seem to bother Hilary. Charlie then pressed Hilary with more questions. She learned that ANDREI operated under GEN Laboratory and had a small student population. Hilary’s power was Pyrokinesis, the ability to create and control fire with her mind. With a raised left brow, Charlie challenged her to demonstrate it.
Hilary giggled, “Oh, look at that raised eyebrow. You think I’m pulling your leg, right? I know because that’s exactly how Jeanne gives herself away when she’s in doubt.” Then without further ado, she held a paper napkin, set fire to it and quickly doused it in a glass of water.
“Amazing!” was all Charlie could say. Encouraged by Hilary’s spontaneous display of power, she smiled at her new acquaintance and pointed to her fork. Hilary watched as Charlie placed her hand a few inches above the fork. As she raised her hand, the fork lifted as well, until it levitated a couple of inches above the table. Hilary beamed in delight, but as the restaurant manager’s voice boomed across the tables, Charlie got distracted and the fork dropped.
The Unlocked (Charlie Hartley Series Book 1) Page 3