Arcadia's Gift (Arcadia Trilogy)

by Jesi Lea Ryan

  By the time I entered the cafeteria and sought out my usual table with Bronwyn and Shawn, my belly was all knotted up and I was wiped out.

  My friends looked at me strangely when I sat down.

  “Not eating today?” Shawn asked.

  I shook my head no. “Not hungry.”

  Bronwyn’s eyes crinkled with concern. “How are you holding up?”

  I gave a one-shoulder shrug. How could I explain the weird feelings I was having when I didn’t understand them myself? “Okay, I guess.”

  Shawn popped open a can of Pepsi and sucked the foam off the top with a slurp.

  “Are you feeling okay?” Bronwyn prodded with concern. “You look kind of pale.”

  I waved my hand in the air like she was making a big deal out of nothing and plastered a fake grin on my lips which I hoped was passable. “I’m fine. Just feeling a bit out of the loop. Why don’t you fill me in on what’s been going on around here?”

  Shawn took the hint before Bronwyn did and began to tell me about how he’d been cast as Sky Masterson in the fall musical, Guys and Dolls. I wasn’t surprised he’d gotten the lead. Shawn had a baritone singing voice that could cause the hair to rise on your arms, and he was a natural comedian on stage. I focused on his crazy story about something that had happened in rehearsal, and that quieted the flurry of emotions in my gut somewhat.

  A throat cleared behind me and a light touch fell on my shoulder. I spun around to see Bryan holding his lunch tray. “Mind if I join you?” The uneasiness on his face looked as if he were expecting me to say no.

  “Of course not.” I scooted over to make room for him on the bench beside me, but it was a tight fit between us and a group of sophomores sharing the long table.

  Shawn jutted his hand out and introduced himself and Bronwyn. She flashed me a knowing look and a grin which caused heat to wash over my face.

  “I’ve heard so much about you,” Bronwyn said. “Cady was telling me what a big help you have been for her these last couple of weeks.”

  Bryan’s eyes lit up at the compliment, and I didn’t know whether or not to be embarrassed to have been caught talking about him. The denim of his black jeans rested lightly against my thigh, and it was all I could do not to press closer against him. The strange emotions rolling through me began to be replaced with a calm happiness.

  “Bryan just moved here from Oregon,” I said, trying to make conversation. This led to a discussion on how lame Dubuque must be after living in a big city like Portland. To our surprise, Bryan claimed to like it here.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” he explained. “Portland is great and there is always lots to do, but I’m starting to get used to being in a city where I can get from one end to the other in less than a half hour and without ending up in a traffic jam. Before moving here, I thought it was going to be all cows and country music.”

  My friends and I groaned with the Iowa stereotype.

  “But it’s not like that here at all.”

  Shawn raised his right hand in oath, “I swear I have never milked a cow in my life.”

  Bronwyn giggled. “That’s because you’re scared of them!”

  “Hey,” he protested. “Those things are huge compared with a ten-year-old!”

  “We went to a farm for a field trip in fourth grade, and Shawn literally squealed when a cow walked up behind him,” she explained.

  “It had this evil look in its eye,” Shawn claimed. “I think it had mad cow disease or rabies or something.”

  “Oh, the Mad Rabid Cow of Iowa!” I exclaimed laughing. “Stop talking about it, or you’ll scare Bryan away.” It had been so long since I really laughed, and it felt wonderful.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed someone looking my direction. Cane Matthews stood a few tables over holding his tray of food in one hand and a bottle of Vitamin water in the other. His glare turned my blood to ice water, halting my giggles instantly.

  Shawn followed my gaze. “What’s his problem?” he asked.

  I shrugged and stared down at the table.

  Bryan’s gaze narrowed in on Cane, and he leaned a little bit closer to me.

  “It must be hard on him to see Cady,” Bronwyn answered. “She’s like a living reminder of Lony.”

  “So? It’s not like she can help it,” Shawn stuck up for me.

  I hadn’t really thought about how it must be for Cane to face me, the mirror image of his dead girlfriend. A shiver rolled down my spine. I wondered how he was holding up. Even though I always sort of thought of him as a meat-head, he always treated my sister well. He also had been the person standing closest to Lony when the train struck, which meant he’d had a front row view of the carnage, something I missed out on witnessing by passing out. Part of me wanted to go talk to him, to comfort him in some way, but I knew it would probably just make things worse.

  After lunch, Bryan and I walked together to class.

  “I like your friends,” he commented. “They’re cool.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So are Shawn and Bronwyn like…together?” he asked.

  I couldn’t help but chuckle. “No. Shawn…well…let’s just say you’re more his type than we are.”

  “Oh…I get it.”

  I glanced over to see his expression. If Bryan turned out to be some sort of homophobe, I might have to give this friendship another thought.

  He just winked at me. “Shawn’s cute and all, but I’m afraid my interests lean in another direction.”

  I blushed and then scolded myself. He was not flirting with you! He was just letting you know he’s straight.

  In lit class, the whirlwind of emotions crept up again, but Bryan’s presence behind me helped me to keep them at bay. Focusing my mind on him distracted me from the other feelings. I even raised my hand to answer for the first time all day. But when lit was over, and I went to French class, I felt like a ship lost at sea.

  I struggled to concentrate. Along with the variety of emotions I’d been experiencing all day, there was something darker coming over me, a deep black cloud of depression, different from what I’d been feeling at home. The classroom was set up with the desks in a circle to promote conversation. I peered around at the other students to see if they felt anything amiss. Some seemed tired, a few bored, and one guy bobbed his head up and down slightly to the beat of the ear buds under the hood of his sweatshirt. Around me, the flowery language filled the air like the scent of perfume at a funeral.

  Chapter 16

  When the final bell rang, signaling my release from school, I ran out the double-doors as fast as I could, my head spinning from the storm of emotions. The air was warm for late September, and my feet crunched the red and gold leaves under my feet. I didn’t want to go home. Not yet. After the day I had, the last thing I wanted to do was return to the House of Perpetual Mourning. Rather than turning down my street, my feet trekked on aimlessly.

  What in the heck happened to me today? It was something more than just sadness over my sister and the uneasiness of returning to school. It was like I’d been put in a clothes dryer filled with all of the emotions of everyone in the school and forced to tumble around with them for seven hours. I was worn out.

  I turned down the next street over from my house. There was a small park a couple of blocks down where Bronwyn and I sometimes liked to hang out on the swings. A broken piece of sidewalk chalk was left abandoned on the ground and I kicked it hard with the toe of my Sketchers.

  “Cady!” a voice called to me.

  I looked up from my feet and saw the strange neighbor woman, the one whose backyard met mine, grinning at me from her front stoop. How did she know my name? I lifted my hand tentatively and waved.

  “Will you come here a moment? I’d like to speak with you,” the woman said.

  Oh, no. Was she planning on scolding me for spying on her with my binoculars? But she didn’t look angry. Her expression was open and friendly. With a deep breath, I trudged up the walk to her front door. />
  “I have some lavender tea on the stove. Come in.”

  It’s not like I was afraid of strangers, but this one made me uneasy. As if reading my thoughts, she assured me, “It’s okay. I’m not some insane person who abducts children, I just want to talk to you about something.”

  Not wanting to admit that I was thinking she might be an insane person bent on abducting me, I followed her inside.

  “My name’s Jinx,” she said. “Make yourself comfortable, while I get the tea.”

  Jinx disappeared into the kitchen.

  The house was a Cape Cod, smaller than ours, and filled with…stuff. While I wouldn’t exactly call her a hoarder, she obviously had issues with clutter. Books and newspapers were stacked in careless towers on the coffee table. Candles in mismatched holders sat on every available flat surface, including on top of an ancient counsel television and in the windowsills. A shaggy lapdog looked up from a doggy bed perched on top of a table next to the front window. He gave me a half-hearted “Arf” before resting his chin back on his paws and nodding off. I scooted a wad of blankets over and sat down on a red, crushed velvet couch that looked like it had time traveled here from the 1970’s.

  After a bit of rattling around in the kitchen, Jinx returned carrying two steaming mugs of light brown tea. I blew on mine and waited for her to say something.

  “Honey?” she asked, squeezing a honey packet from KFC into her mug and stirring.

  I shook my head no. I was really more of a coffee person, but I’d drink it to be polite.

  “How do you know my name?” I asked.

  She twirled her fingers in the air. “Oh, one hears things around…”

  I nodded like I knew what she was talking about. I set my drink down on the coffee table to give it time to cool off, but then I didn’t know what to do with my hands, so I picked it back up. My eyes wandered the room, unsure of where to look. I could sense the women’s gaze trained on my face.

  “I’m very sorry about your sister,” she said. Her expression was open and kind. Her large blue eyes were twin liquid pools. The wild cork-screws of her auburn hair gave her the look of a faerie tale creature. It was impossible not to like her.

  “Uh, thanks…”

  “How are you and your family holding up?”

  I shrugged.

  Jinx nodded.

  “So what kind of name is Jinx?” I asked before I realized how rude it sounded. She didn’t seem to take offense.

  “Well, my real name is Jennifer…” She made a gagging motion with her finger to her mouth. “…but I got the nickname when I was a teenager and it stuck. Trouble used to follow me. Get it? Jinx?”

  “Trouble used to follow you?”

  “Oh, well, when you get older, life settles down naturally.”

  I lifted my drink and took a tentative sip. It burnt my tongue, so I set it back down. Not that I minded getting to know my neighbor, but I wished she would get to the point of why she called me here.

  “So, you must be wondering why I asked you in.” she said, tucking her bare feet up under her skirt so that she was sitting cross-legged in the recliner. The bottoms of her feet were dirty.

  “Yeah, I guess I am.”

  “I need to tell you something that’s going to sound crazy, but all I ask is that you don’t leave until you’ve completely heard me out, alright?”

  My belly fluttered. Should I be worried here?

  “Don’t worry,” she said.

  I began to wonder if my thoughts were being broadcast in a cartoon bubble over my head.

  “Cady, I know what you are going through.”

  Oh, so that was it! Jinx must have had a sibling pass away or something and she wanted to comfort me like Bryan had. Made sense.

  “So, did your sister die also?” I asked.

  “Humph! Not hardly. She lives in Boca Raton and works as an investment banker. Not dead, but not much of a life either. No, I mean I know what is happening to you …emotionally.”

  “That’s not hard to guess. My twin died. I feel like crap.”

  Jinx shook her head. I could tell she was going somewhere with this, but hesitated to explain it to me. “No, it’s more than that. Tell me about school. How did you feel when you were around all of those other students?”

  A flush spread across my face, and I darted my gaze out the window. I recalled the tornado of emotions. Could that be what she was referring to? If so, how did she know?

  “Okay,” she sighed. “Let go about this a bit differently. I have this…talent…I guess. Have you ever heard of telepathy?”

  “Like communicating through minds?” I snorted skeptically.

  “Yeah! See, I can read people’s thoughts.”

  Terrified at the idea that what this woman was saying might be true, I tensed up, wrinkling my brow.

  “Whoa!” Jinx laughed, touching her fingers to her temples. “You’re a strong little thing! I can feel you trying to block me. I bet you don’t even know you’re doing it.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “No, that’s not possible. People can’t read minds!”

  “Oh, no? How is it that I know about the torment you went through this week at school?”

  “It was my first day back, of course it was going to be tormenting!” I yelled without meaning to. I jumped up to my feet.

  The little dog was startled by my sudden movement. He hopped down from the table and waddled over next to her chair like a guard dog. Yeah, the curly hair flopping in his eyes was terrifying.

  “Wait, Cady,” she said, reaching out to me. “Please sit. You promised to hear me out. I haven’t even gotten to the part about you.”

  My knees locked in place. I didn’t want to sit.

  “Look, I appreciate you trying to cheer me up, but I really can’t deal with crazy right now.” I slid my arms into the shoulder straps on my bag and headed for the door.

  Jinx shot to her feet, but didn’t try to stop me from leaving. She just twisted her fingers together in frustration.

  “Okay,” she said, “leave if you want. But I want you to think about something.”

  I stopped in the doorway holding the screen door open, not turning around to face her.

  “When your sister died, remember how you felt it? I mean really felt what was happening to her? Remember what you saw in that moment?” When I didn’t answer she continued. “Come back to see me when you’re ready to know what happened.”

  I walked out quickly, allowing the screen door to slam shut behind me.

  Chapter 17

  The rhythm of my soles slapping the pavement in time to my breath had the power to relax me like nothing else. In the weeks since returning to school, I’d settled into a routine —school, work, jog, homework, bed.

  The emotional storm of school wasn’t abating. If anything, it seemed to be getting worse. Sitting in class felt like being tugged in ten different directions. Twice I’d had teachers keep me after class, their looks of pity only slightly hidden under concern. Of course, I couldn’t tell them anything. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. Mr. MacLeod, my physiology teacher even suggested I drop his class and try it again next year. I’d missed a ton of labs, and no matter how much I studied, I couldn’t concentrate enough to memorize all of the Latin terms. I finally gave in and stopped by my guidance counselor’s office to sign the drop forms. Of course it was too late for me to get into anything else, so I was assigned to a study hall for fifth period.

  I rounded the corner of my street and slowed to a brisk walk. My breath sawed in and out of my chest through my mouth, and I used a cotton bandana tucked in the pocket of my jogging pants to wipe the sweat from my forehead. The autumn evening air caressed my damp skin, dotting my arms with goose bumps. From between the dwellings I could see Jinx’s house, lights blazing in every room as if she had guests. For weeks I’d been telling myself that the woman was a fake, a charlatan looking to pull something over on the poor grieving girl. But then I’d find myself wondering about the p
ossibility that she was telling the truth. Other than the little bit I mentioned to the doctor in the hospital, I hadn’t told anyone about actually feeling Lony’s death, about seeing it through her eyes. There had to be a logical explanation for how Jinx knew all this, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what it was.

  So I did the only thing I could do —I took to the Internet. For weeks I’d read everything I could find on the subject of telepathy. At first, I only found websites advertising psychics and fortune tellers who would answer your questions for a price. My only experience with psychics happened at the Dubuque County Fair a couple summers ago when Lony talked me into getting my tarot cards read. All the woman told me was that I needed to work hard in school in order to get ahead in life. Duh! I could tell better fortunes than that. I can’t remember Lony’s fortune, but I’m sure it mentioned nothing about her early death.

  After weeding through the fakes and weirdoes, I came across websites that included scientific studies and testimonials about telepathic experiences. To my surprise, a fair number of scientists believed communicating with the mind was real. There was even a doctor down at the University of Iowa Hospital, Dr. Ulrika Helbo, who had done actual studies and written books on the subject. I spent part of an evening reading different papers and things that she had published in medical journals. She basically believed that humans were born with ten senses. In addition to the five physical senses of touch, sight, smell, hearing and taste, there are five senses of the soul —intuition, peace, foresight, trust, empathy. She claims telepathy is simply a manifestation of our sense of intuition.

  In an article in The New England Journal of Medicine, Dr. Helbo sighted evidence that early humans used the power of the mind and energy to transmit information, much the same way our other senses work. But as humans evolved, they began relying more on the other five senses more, allowing the others to go dormant, like an appendix or something. Interesting stuff, and she had a lot of documentation to back up her theories, but I was a believe-it-when-I-see-it kind of girl.