The Gifted Ones: A Reader

by Maria Elizabeth Romana

  Angel continued her commentary, “Granny’s told me dozens, hundreds of stories over the years. Stories about different Gifteds and all the things they could do. She told me about Oren, her husband, and how he could see and feel what others were feeling. He saw colors, chica, just like you. Like you told me you were seeing, and I just didn’t get it. And the temperature—” Angel looked at Granny a moment, then back at Ellie. “Oren could sense changes in mood through his body temperature.”

  Ellie’s mouth fell open, “Whoa, that’s just what happened to me.” She was starting to look a little wary of the whole thing. Granny nodded at Willow, hoping the wise woman would have something to offer.

  “Now, Elodie,” Willow started. “We’re not talking crystal balls or ESP or channeling the other side here…not that there’s anything wrong with those things, but…reading people, or seeing auras, is a bona fide scientific phenomenon. It’s called synesthesia. It’s an unusual collaboration of the synapses in the brain. There are pathways overlapping sight and smell and touch and emotion that occur in most humans, but for you, because you’re Gifted, there are just more of them, or they’re more focused, or more intertwined, or something, enabling you to comprehend those connections and actually make use of them.”

  Joe finally joined them, settling himself on the couch that sat opposite Ellie and Grace and Granny—and as far from Doo, who was seated on the other end of that couch, as possible. “Has it ever happened before, Ellie? Do you remember knowing what someone was feeling any other times?”

  “Oh, yeah. The exact same thing—that black haze and the chilly sensation—with that creepy Aiden kid. That’s how I figured out what was going on at Carlo’s. It was déjà vu all over again.”

  Grace butted in, “But that’s not the only time. She’s always done it.” She looked at Ellie. “Honey, you were always telling me you knew what your teachers were going to ask on a test, and you knew who was about to leave their table, and-and…remember that guy?” Grace started to laugh, “The guy in the coffee shop? You knew he was going to come over and flirt with me, and he did.”

  Doo chuckled at that, but Ellie said, “Oh, Aunt Grace, that’s totally different.”

  “Maybe not,” Willow interjected. “Ellie, you may have been reading people for years without realizing it. But until you started seeing and feeling things that you knew weren’t there, it just seemed normal. You probably thought everybody could do it, right?” Ellie nodded.

  Angel spoke up, “But Willow, how come Ellie only has the auras and the chills and whatever with the bad guys? Why can’t she read anyone else like that?”

  Willow shrugged. “Hard to say at this point. Could’ve been fear, heightened emotions, the danger, the necessity…or something she ate that day. Her Gift is still so new. It’s just developing. We don’t know how it will evolve. Like all Gifts, she’ll have to work at it, and learn to manage and control it.”

  Granny turned Ellie toward her. “But listen, Ellie. Trust me, it won’t always be scary. Sometimes…it will be rather wonderful. You’ll be able to connect with people in ways others can only dream of.” She closed her eyes, seeing and feeling the connection she once shared with Oren.

  “Wait, I-I think I know what you mean.”

  “You do?” Granny opened her eyes, surprised.

  Ellie nodded and looked over at Angel. “It happens with the good guys, too. I saw that aura thing…around Enrique.”

  Simultaneously, Angel and Joe said, “Rique?”

  “Yes. That’s how I knew he was okay. When I saw him in the courtyard, he looked like just another big scary dude. But the light around him—it was beautiful. Bright. Shiny. With lots of colors, like sunlight through a prism. It was magnificent. It made me feel safe. That’s how I knew I could trust him and go with him.”

  “Yes, my dear. That’s it exactly.” Granny took Ellie’s hand again and held it tight. She felt closer to Oren at that moment than she had since the day he died so long ago.

  # # #

  “You’re a Reader, my dear. A Reader.” Granny’s words kept running through Ellie’s head. How was she supposed to get to sleep, knowing she had this Gift? Aunt Grace had, as usual, broken up the party earlier than anyone wanted to leave, insisting it was too late, and they all needed to get to bed. It was something like three in the morning by then, so maybe she had a point, but Ellie felt wide awake now. She wanted to know everything there was to know about being a Reader. She wanted to hear every story Granny had to tell about her husband Oren. And she couldn’t wait to try out her newfound skill on more people. She would be able to tell what they were feeling, for God’s sake. How freakin’ cool was that? For the first time in her life, Ellie knew she was someone special, and that wasn’t exactly a thought that made her drowsy.

  She was laying on her back, surveying her surroundings in the little light afforded by the moon outside her window. She was in her pretty room on the second floor of the farmhouse, and Aunt Grace was down the hall a ways, with a nice corner room overlooking the pasture. On their second day at the farm, a couple of guys had shown up with boxes containing, as Angel had promised, everything that meant anything to them. Her clothes, her books, her computer, pictures of her parents, even her stuffed animals, including Josephina, a beloved stuffed pig she’d had as long as she could remember. With all of that around her, budding friendships in the works, and Uncle Joe back in her life, this place already felt like home. Now, the only question was—would Aunt Grace let her stay?

  Oooh. Ellie’s tummy made an uncomfortable growling noise. Angel had told her something about how using a Gift would make people really hungry and really tired, especially in the beginning, when they were first learning. Something about hypermetabolism. She wondered what the consequences might be if she snuck down into Chef Ren’s kitchen for a snack.

  Since sleep was elusive anyway, Ellie decided to give it a shot. She got up and headed to the bathroom for her robe. As she pulled open the bathroom door, though, she saw a sliver of light across the floor, and noticed that the door to Angel’s room was slightly ajar. Angel was still up? Yes, she was; Ellie could hear her talking or listening to music or, no, that wasn’t it. That was the sound of…crying. Ellie paused. She wasn’t sure what to do. This wasn’t something she had a lot of experience with. Back in their house in Atlanta, Ellie was the only one who ever cried, and Aunt Grace did all the comforting and bucking up. Should she ignore it and pretend she never heard it? Should she go in? Should she knock? Or would Angel be mortified? Still undecided, she went ahead and grabbed her robe and pulled it on. In the process, she managed to knock her hairbrush on the floor, making a nice loud rattle and bang sound.

  A little gasp came from the other side of Angel’s door, and then a throat-clearing sound. “Ellie? Chica, is that you?”

  Okay, no choice now. Ellie stepped to the door and pushed it open. “Uh, yeah, Angel, it’s me.”

  Angel was sitting on her bed in black sweat pants and a loose black tee shirt, with a bunch of papers spread out in front of her. She quickly turned her head away and brought both hands to her face, trying to hide the fact that she was wiping away tears. She looked back at Ellie and pasted on a smile. “Hey, what’s got you up so late?”

  Ellie walked over to the bed uninvited and sat down on it. She looked at Angel’s face. There was mascara streaked down one cheek and black smudges under both eyes. Her nose and cheeks were red and blotchy. That she thought Ellie would not know she’d been crying was almost comical. Ellie reached out and laid her hand on top of Angel’s. “Why so sad?”

  Angel sniffled, lowering her head to avoid eye contact, and mumbled, “I’m not sad. I’m really pissed. I hate him!” She smashed her hand through the pile of papers and finally looked up. “That stupid jerk actually made me believe he loved me. I wasn’t even sure how I felt about him, but I was sure how he felt about me. He fooled me, El. He fooled me good. I thought I was so smart. I always thought I could read people, ya know? Because, in a figh
t, I can. I always know what they’re thinking. I know where the next punch is going, when they’re gonna kick, when they’re gonna duck. That’s why I can beat them, beat them all. But not Carlo.”

  She grabbed a handful of the papers and held them up. “You know what these are? Love letters. Yeah, seriously. Love letters. Who the hell writes love letters nowadays? He wrote me all the time, every day, even when I couldn’t be in contact because we were on some kind of a mission. He sucked me in.” She looked up in her head. “I’m such a sap.”

  Ellie picked up one of the letters. Indeed, it was sweet and syrupy and dripping with declarations of love and devotion…and horrendous spelling. As she held the letter, though, Ellie started to feel something. She felt warm. She picked up more of them and held them in her hands. Carlo. She could still feel him. She looked at Angel’s war-torn face and slowly shook her head. “No, Angel, you’re not a sap. Whatever Carlo did and whyever he did it, I’m not sure, but I do know this—he loved you. That part was real.”

  Angel looked at her like she had three heads. “Chica, what part of the last twenty-four hours did you not get? Carlo lied to me, about everything, from the moment we met. He’s a way better actor than anyone’s given him credit for being. I was totally deluded. Me!” Her tone became sarcastic, “Angel Espinoza, The World’s Greatest Defender. Ha! What a joke.”

  “It’s not a joke, Angel. I’m telling you—he only fooled you, because he wasn’t fooling. He was sincere…at least about that.” Angel was quiet, but her expression demanded elaboration. “I saw it. I felt it. In the restaurant. In his apartment.” Ellie raised her eyebrows. “Especially in the kitchen. Hoo boy, did I feel it. You guys were about to burn the place down.”

  Angel shook her head. “I don’t understand…”

  “I didn’t just know that he was lying or that the drinks were bad. I felt everything he was feeling, Angel. His feelings for you—maybe love is the wrong word. It was more like…passion. Whenever he got close to you, it was like hot, burning, sizzling, fiery desire.”

  Angel sat back a little, appearing surprised and perhaps a bit embarrassed. “Wow. I mean that’s kinda how it felt to me, too, being around him. He’s definitely a very…passionate person.”

  “Well, for what it’s worth, that part was real, and you are the most awesome Defender ever, so please don’t be so sad.”

  “I told you, I’m not sad!”

  Ellie widened her eyes and felt her jaw go slack. There was a shimmer around Angel now. It was bright, sparkly, like Rique’s, but shrouded in blue. “Yes, you are sad,” she said. “I can see it, and, oh man, I can feel it, too.” Ellie’s throat tightened up. Tears were welling in her eyes. “This is awful. What a horrible feeling.” She stared at Angel, feeling overwhelmed with sadness.

  “Oh God, El, I’m sorry. I don’t want you to feel this. C’mon!” Angel leaped off the bed, grabbing Ellie’s arm.

  Ellie stumbled after her. “Where we goin’?”

  “Kitchen.”

  “And that’s gonna help?”

  “Oh yeah.” Angel stopped and looked back at her. “I know where Chef Ren keeps the chocolate.”

  # # #

  “Ellie? What are you doing?”

  What was that?! Joe sat straight up in bed. He was dead tired and really confused, but he’d heard something. Something about Ellie. And alarm bells had gone off. He shook his head out and looked around. Okay, yeah, he was in his bedroom at home, on the farm. The bedside clock said it was half-past four in the morning, and it was perfectly dark and quiet. Must’ve been a dream. He dropped back down on his pillows. Was this what it was like to be a parent? To be constantly worrying about your child, even when there was nothing to worry about? He sighed and rolled onto his side, facing the door of the room, and let his eyes close again.

  “Joe?”

  The voice was soft, gentle, and timid. Definitely a woman. He was hoping it was the start of a nice dream.

  “Joe, are you awake?”

  That didn’t sound very dreamy. The door creaked as it was pushed open. Joe opened one eye. Through the grayness, he could see a head peering around the door. “Grace, is that you?” He sat up again. “I’m awake. What is it? Is everything okay? Is it Ellie?”

  She stepped inside, and pushed the door closed behind her. She was wrapped in a thin, faded, flowery bath robe, and her hair was hanging free, wavy and disheveled. Fuzzy slippers completed the ensemble. “Yeah, it’s me, Joe. Nothing’s wrong. Ellie’s fine. I just saw her and Angel going down to raid the kitchen.”

  Joe laughed, then yawned loudly and ran a hand through his hair. “So…four-thirty’s a bit early, Grace, even for you…”

  “Uh, yeah, sorry about that. I know how tired you must be, but I couldn’t sleep.”

  She sounded stressed. He reached over and turned on the small bedside lamp, then tossed back the covers and swung his legs over the side. The hardwood floor felt cool to his bare feet. “Don’t worry about it, honey. What’s wrong?” Instead of answering, she turned abruptly to the side, averting her eyes. Oh, geez. He stood up, grabbed a wrinkled tee shirt off the chair near his bed and pulled it over his head. Good thing he slept in pajama pants, or she’d really be embarrassed.

  He stepped closer to her, put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Tell me, Gracie. What’s on your mind?”

  She took a deep breath and looked directly at him. Her brown eyes looked almost black in the low light. “I had some time to think while you were all in Washington. Joe, you were right. You’ve been right about everything, all along. I mean, even back in the day—when Lucy sent you away. She shouldn’t have done that.”

  Hmm. Not that he disagreed, but what brought this subject up after so many years? “She had her reasons, Grace. I understood. It was confusing for Ellie.”

  Grace raised an eyebrow. “It was confusing for Lucy.”

  Joe raised both eyebrows. “Oh?”

  She pushed his hands off her shoulders and turned away, pretending to study the handmade doily on his bedside table. “Never mind. Forget I said that. The point is…” She turned back around. “Ellie needs you now. She needs you and Granny and Willow and Angel. Especially Angel. You guys can do things for her that I never could, not the least of which is keeping her safe.” Grace sighed deeply and sunk down on the side of his bed. “I guess down deep somewhere I thought, I hoped, that her Gift would never manifest. That we two would just go on living our lives together, like normal people. Ellie would go to college and get a job and get married and none of this…” She waved her hand in the air, apparently indicating the whole Gifted world, “…would ever be a part of her existence.” She looked up at him again. “I just wanted her to be happy.”

  Joe gave her a wry smile and sat down next to her. “You think a Gifted person can’t be happy?”

  “No, I don’t think that. It’s just…the track record of the ones I’ve known has been, well, rather tragic.”

  “Gracie—”

  “C’mon, Joe, be honest. Are you really happy?”

  He bristled. “That’s not fair. I’ve made mistakes. Bad choices. And I’ve had to live with that. If I’m not as happy as I could be, it’s my fault, not the fault of my genes.”

  She took his hand. “A lot of people made a lot of mistakes. You don’t know…” He wrinkled his brow, wanting to ask what she meant, but she didn’t allow it. She shook her head and went on, “I want to fix one of them right now.” His heart surged, praying he’d hear what he wanted to hear. “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to stay. Me and Ellie. At least for a while.”

  “If it’s all right?” A broad smile split his face from ear to ear, and he turned toward her and grabbed her by the shoulders. “You know it’s all right! You know how much I want you to stay. Both of you.” Did she have any idea how happy she’d made him?

  She grinned then, too, showing him that yeah, maybe she did know. His exuberance snuck up on him, and, without really thinking about it
, he pulled her close and kissed her, just quickly, like a friend-kiss or a brother-kiss. Except not. Because those kinds of kisses don’t make you feel woozy and dizzy and send little shock waves shooting through your belly like that one had. Grace gasped in response, and he pulled back as quickly as he’d gone in. Oh crap. What had he done? He jumped up from the bed like it was on fire. “Er, um, sorry about that, Gracie. Just got a little excited. I mean, uh…” He grimaced.

  She gave him a look that rolled shock, horror, and bewilderment all into one. Then she pushed herself up from the bed. “Um, that’s okay, Joe. No…big deal…” She stepped carefully around him and made her way back toward the door of his bedroom. “You should probably get back to sleep now. You’re obviously over-tired.”

  “Yeah, good idea.”

  She gave him a little wave as she pulled the door closed, looking a bit concerned about his mental state. He gave her a wave back, then collapsed onto his bed. Nice work, Joe. What the heck was that all about?

  # # #

  Enrique Espinoza could have waited until morning to clean up the mess that his lovely guest from Monaco had left behind, but after living a good bit of his childhood on filthy city streets, he had found, as an adult, that he had limited tolerance for dishes in the sink, laundry on the floor, overfull trash cans, or bathtub rings, so he certainly wasn’t going to sleep well with shards of broken ceramics on his bedroom floor. By the time he’d driven Nadia home, barely escaping with his virtue intact, returned here to sweep up the smashed curios and dispatch the half-empty wine bottle and glasses, and then taken a long, hot shower, he was able to see the first trickle of pink creeping around the edges of the window shade. The alarm was set for seven-thirty, and he really wasn’t sure it would be worth the trouble to lie down.