by Darrell Bain
"You act like you're in a daze, Amber. What's wrong?” Jeannie Burger, her best friend, asked as she joined her in the hall. Like Amber, she was wearing jeans and a short sleeved blouse over a halter top. The top and bottom two buttons were unfastened, as the current style called for.
"Oh, you know. Mrs. Larkin thinks we're cheating. I guess we're going to have to deliberately flunk some tests to get her off our case."
Jeannie frowned, the lines on her young face making her look older and still more attractive than she already was. She was almost as developed as Amber, and some boys thought she was prettier because of her long blond hair and expensive clothes. Amber thought her one real fault was her inability to refrain from teasing boys. She could sense their intentions and stymie them so easily, and she had fun doing it.
"Well, I'm not going to put down any wrong answers just to make the old creeper happy. I can't help it if I get hunches about what she's going to ask on a test and neither can you. It's not our fault."
"No, but Mom says we shouldn't let other people know or even guess. Bailey says so, too, and you know he's a psychologist."
"I guess you're right,” Jeannie conceded. “But you're lucky. Your parents talk to you. My mom and dad are so busy I hardly ever see them.” It was a familiar lament with Jeannie.
"I guess we're all lucky Bailey is interested in us. He talks to everyone's parents when they get worried.” Amber had a sudden thought. “You know, if you run into problems, you can always talk to my mom and Bailey. You don't have to tell your folks about it. Some of the other kids in the group have. They won't embarrass you or tell you that you're on the skids. They understand."
"You're lucky,” Jeannie said again. “Anyhow, what difference would it make? The teachers kind of know anyway."
"Uh huh, but they can't prove it. Bailey says if they could, we might be locked up somewhere and experimented on. He and Mom are like worry bandits over all of us, especially about what crooks might do if they knew about us."
"It must be nice to have someone to worry,” Jeannie said wistfully as they passed through the main entrance to the sidewalk outside. “Maybe I will come talk to your mom and Bailey. They're sugared and creamed. Jimmy thinks so, too."
"Yeah. I—"
A shrill wolf whistle interrupted their conversation. Amber didn't even have to look to know who it was: Jordan Rhieman, a big eighth grade boy who studied just enough to avoid failing. He concentrated much more on girls and the wild, off-beat jitterswing music vids just now becoming popular.
Amber and Jeanine both ignored him. To them, he broadcasted his thoughts almost as crudely as a movie villain, and they were blatantly sexual. If she looked around, Amber knew she would get an impression of him forming images of herself and Jeannie as naked as the pornographic images passed around on phones and computers. She didn't look, but Jeannie did and turned quickly away.
"He comes on like a freight train,” she said, even though she was curious about what it would be like to be with him. “He likes to get girls alone. I can tell. Even if I couldn't, Annie told me he popped a button on her blouse when she wouldn't let him get his hand inside her bra."
"Stay away from him. He's a real broke rock,” Amber warned. “And dumb besides.” She had been cornered by Jordy recently between classes at a bend in the hall, and she had to stomp his foot to get out of his clutches. Apparently, it hadn't dissuaded him a bit. Amber wondered if she would have to use more of the techniques she was learning in the martial arts classes she had been attending twice a week for the year along with Jimmy and a few others of the group. Bailey had suggested it when she was eleven and her breasts first began to swell. She smiled thinking of how protective he and her mom were, but she was glad. They didn't make a big thing of it, and they always gave reasons for anything they did.
"Hey Melay! Wait up!"
Amber turned at the slang hail and stopped, her face lit up in a smile as she recognized Jimmie's voice. He joined them a moment later, his dark hair even more tousled than usual. Amber reached up and tried to brush it into place. It stubbornly resisted her efforts, as she knew it would, but she felt a sudden impulse to touch someone nice like Jimmy after being subjected to Jordy's unwelcome attention.
"Aw, Amber, you know my hair won't stay in place. Mom says it's like I'm fertilizing it.” He fell in step with the girls as they continued the walk home, only a two block trip now that they were in middle school.
"I like it,” she assured him and was rewarded with a pleased expression and a notion that he wanted to kiss her again. Amber took his hand and walked in step with him, having to lengthen her strides to keep up with him for a moment. He sensed almost immediately that he was walking too quickly and slowed down.
"I'll see you twinks later,” Jeannie said as she turned off toward her home at the first intersection.
Jimmy waved at her and turned immediately to Amber. “Is that Jordy creeper bothering you and Jeannie again?” His face had lost its usual cheerful countenance. “If he is, I'll hurt him."
"It's okay, Jimmy."
"No, it's not. He's a broke rock. If he tries anything with you, let me know, and I'll toss him in the trash."
Amber squeezed his hand. “I can handle him,” she said, wondering if it were true. He was not only big for his age but had once been held back a grade, so was a year older than the other eighth graders.
"You sure?"
"If I can't, I'll give you a trace. Remember what Bailey says. It's better not to attract the insects. They'll start gnawing on us."
"Just don't wait too long,” Jimmy said balefully, concern written as plainly on his face and as easily readable as seventy-two point font on a blank screen.
"I won't,” she said. On impulse, she stopped walking. She reached up to his neck and pulled his face down. She kissed him on the lips and smiled at how pleased he was by her action. “See you later. I've got a cargo plane of homework tonight, including some for the L creeper."
"I'm glad I don't have her,” Jimmy remarked. “Trace me later.” He waved and cut across the yard to his own house.
* * * *
Bailey smiled at Amber as she skipped inside. Every time he saw her, he thought how quickly she was growing up and what bright, beautiful young woman she was turning into. He didn't try to conceal his pride in her, knowing she was already aware of it. He had even adjusted his own hours so he could be home when she returned from school. He never had liked the idea of “latch-key” kids. “Hello, Lumpkin. You look happy."
"Hi, Bailey. I am, or I guess I would be, if old—I mean if Mrs. Larkin wouldn't be so hard on us kids."
Bailey grinned at her slip in almost calling the teacher “Old Lady Larkin, or perhaps something worse."
Amber returned it knowing full well that he knew what she had wanted to say, but Bailey and Mom were strict about epithets. He also knew when she said “us kids” it meant the special group, the first through third graders who had been exposed to the terrorist chemical more than four years ago.
"I wish I could do something about her, Lumpkin, but there isn't. Just try not to give her any reason to talk about you, and pass that on to the other kids, too. We've got to keep a low profile."
Amber dropped her books on the coffee table and went to give Bailey a hug before picking them back up and going to her room. She liked to get her homework out of the way first thing and be done with it.
Bailey remained seated in his big easy chair and thought about how the last four years had gone.
He and Pat had married six months after first spending the night together. Sometimes he wondered how he had gotten so lucky. They didn't seem to argue like the majority of couples did, nor did they have differing ideas on how to raise Amber. He didn't think it was simply because he was a physician or a psychologist. So far as he could tell, it was just pure compatibility. They had decided on another child, but so far, Pat had failed to conceive. In the meantime, the group of kids he still felt responsible for continued to draw the
m ever closer as Amber grew up. With every day that passed, he and Pat could see how sharp her perceptive ability was and how it was continuing to develop. Besides that, the parents of the other children had gradually begun consulting him when problems with their youngsters came up. He charged those who were well able to pay and saw the others at a discount or free. He and Pat had no real need of extra money what with her settlement from the school's insurer over the terrorist incident and his inheritance from his remaining parent, which he recieved shortly after they married.
He continued to worry about the group. Amber was coming along fine, with even fewer problems than girls nearing the teenage years usually displayed. He thought it was partly because her ability had contributed to attaining a maturity beyond her years. In fact, Amber had become a conduit to the other kids. She didn't mind talking about them, and herself, at all. For years, events had progressed with little problem other than a few teachers who were suspicious of the group but didn't quite know why. Fortunately, they didn't believe Larkin's story about mind readers, even untrue as it was, and, so far, he had heard nothing else from the FBI or from Casey. However, recently, he had begun worrying again. The kids were growing up, and a few were already acting in a manner that he and Pat both thought was endangering them all. Already, several distraught parents had called him the last few months.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Amber was still in her room doing homework when Pat arrived nearly two hours later. Bailey got up to kiss her and noticed immediately that something was wrong. She had smiled at him, but it wasn't the kind he loved, the big, enriching smile she usually wore when seeing him first thing in the morning and in the evening after work.
Bailey kissed her gently and held her against him a moment before asking “What's wrong sweetheart? Bad day?"
"Yes. Do we have anything in the house to drink other than wine? I think I need one today. Thank God it's Friday."
"We have some bourbon. Put your things away, and I'll fix some for us."
Bailey poured the liquor over ice cubes in a couple of short glasses and added a bit of water to each. He handed Pat one when she came back into the living room and sat down with her on the couch.
"Is Amber home from school?"
"She's in her room doing her homework so she'll have the weekend free. Smart girl."
"I wish more of her classmates would get into the habit, but never mind that.” Pat took a big sip of the bourbon. Her expression hardened.
"Larkin again?” Bailey guessed.
"Yes. That ... bitch! Sorry, but I don't know any other way to describe her. She's more of a menace to the school system than politicians running for reelection."
Bailey had to laugh. “As bad as that?"
"Every bit. Do you now what she did now?” The question was purely rhetorical, for she answered it herself. “She got me aside and accused Amber of cheating and reading her mind; she says she has the devil in her. She thinks other of the kids can do it, too, and that they're all devil-spawned fiends! Can you believe it? And worst of all, she says she's going to do something about it."
Bailey had been scared of something like this happening. Larkin had voiced her suspicions in the past but never so stridently. Perhaps she thought she had more leeway now that she had announced her retirement plans. “Maybe we ought to suggest to the school board that she's mentally ill."
Pat laughed harshly and drank more of her bourbon and water. “We wouldn't be believed because she's in cahoots with the principal, that Schaffer woman who thinks she knows everything. Neither of them are stupid, Bailey, and they're too damn smart to go public with the mind reading bit. But Larkin saves up examples and tells the other teachers and Schaffer about them. I think she's actually convinced a couple of them that it's true."
"What—mind reader or cheat?"
"Both. All I can say is that it's a good thing she's retiring next year, or I might be tempted to ask Amber to find out what's really on her mind."
"Do you think she knows?"
"Of course she does, Bailey, but she's a good girl. We've taught her to keep knowledge like that to herself. The thing is, she's getting better and better at perceiving intentions and attitudes, so are Jimmy and her friend Jeannie, for that matter."
"I've noticed it with her and Jimmy. I haven't seen Jeannie lately."
"She's been here when you were gone the last couple of times, but I see her all the time. Remember, I have her in one of my classes. Bailey, what are we going to do?"
"Do about what?” Amber asked as she came into the room with a glass of iced tea. She searched Pat and Bailey's faces and her cheerful expression vanished. “Oh. Mrs. Larkin."
"Yes, Mrs. Larkin,” Pat said, knowing it was useless to try keeping the information to herself. “She's causing problems again."
"Mom, I could tell you some things about her that...” Amber broke off as she saw that neither her mother nor Bailey wanted her to continue. “I'm sorry. I know I'm not supposed to tell on people, but Mom, she's mean!"
"I know she is, baby, but we don't want to let her drag us down to her level."
"You kids have to be careful. It could get to be a habit, holding a person's private life over their head like blackmail,” Bailey added. “So far, most of you have done well, and we're proud of you."
"You did it with that awful FBI agent, Bailey,” Amber reminded him.
"Yes, but what he was doing was horrible and highly illegal. Besides, I did it more to protect you kids from harm than for myself or Pat. Is there anything Mrs. Larkin is doing that's illegal?"
"Not that I know of,” Amber conceded after a moment's thought. “Nothing serious, anyway.” She came over and sat down beside her mother on the couch, leaning forward so that she could look past her at Bailey. “I'm sorry to be dragging her, but she is making trouble. She's even been going to Mrs. Schaffer about us. I wish her and Mrs. Schaffer had stayed at the primary school, like Mrs. Gomez did.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “Some of the boys in the group are making trouble, too. Even a few of the girls."
Bailey sighed. He started to comment, but Amber interrupted. “Oh, golly, I must have had an EC moment. I forgot—Mrs. Larkin told one of the other kids the FBI was going to investigate us again, and I think it's that ... that Casey man she was ramping her B-cells over. I thought he was all taken care of."
"Oh, damn,” Bailey said. “I take it EC means an elder citizen moment and by ramping her B-cells you mean brain cells, as in she was using them to think of him?"
Amber grinned, remembering how Mom had given her a book to read on how young people's slang sometimes changed the language and how it grew and was constantly being modified. It was interesting. Some of the old words were strange but usually funny and pertinent the way they related to cultural, political, and social trends. She had enjoyed it, except that by the time it was published, a lot of the words weren't even being used any more. “Yep, you got it right first time,” she said to Bailey.
"I guess I better ask Wanda to see if she can find out what he's up to now. This doesn't sound good if it really is Casey. I can't understand how he would dare start up again, not with all the stuff Wanda gave me on him. And Lumpkin, tell me more about the kids causing problems, would you please? I've talked to some of them and some of the parents, but not all of them."
Amber laughed. She thought it was funny the way Mom and Bailey still called her by pet names from when she was a little girl. She didn't mind, really, because they were always careful not to do it except in private. She watched her mom and stepfather sip at their drinks while she thought about how to begin. Finally, she decided to just let it out. Mom and Bailey weren't like some parents who got twisted sideways when the word was mentioned.
"It's mostly sex that's the problem,” she said. “The boys our own age are using their perception to cernify—to tell—which girls will do what and how to get them to do it for them. The older boys that can't sense as much as our group are trying it too.” She hesitated, but s
he eventually went on. “But it's mostly the ones in our group who can really get girls to do things. That's making some of the ones not in the group jealous and lurching mad. I've already told you about that one kid selling dope and a couple others are shoplifting or stealing stuff where there's no vids ‘cause they know they can get away with it. And some other stuff."
"Is that all, sweetie?"
Amber grinned again. It was kind of nice having two adults you could talk to about anything, even if she didn't tell them everything. A girl had to have some secrets.
"Well, the boys in the group are always thinking about sex. I guess some of the girls do too, but not as much. It's the bad ones who are the real lizards. They undress us in their minds all the time. Jimmy doesn't much, even though he thinks about sex a lot. He's nice around us and doesn't try to take advantage of other girls. Everyone likes him. Me, too."
Bailey noticed how her expression softened as she began talking about Jimmy. “Hmm. Do I detect a bit of romance between you two? Or is that any of my business?"
"It's okay. We've kissed some, and I know he likes me as a friend as well as a girl. But Bailey ... Mom ... I don't know what to do about the others. Even Jeannie sometimes teases the poor boys who don't know. I try to get her not to, but she doesn't listen."
"Maybe she's feeling left out with you and Jimmy getting close,” Pat observed. She had noticed how Jeannie sneaked glances at Jimmy in her class. She had also moved on up to teaching at the middle school.
"Oh, Mom, we're not close like that,” Amber said, stopping when she realized what she'd said wasn't entirely accurate. “Well, not yet anyway, or not too much, anyway, I guess. We're still too young, I think, even if we do know more than most other kids."
Pat was sure she did. Children matured so young nowadays, and the perceptive ones like Amber were maturing even more rapidly than normal. She smiled reassuringly at her daughter but was a little sad all the same. Her little girl was becoming a woman. “You'll be thirteen soon. Maybe we should begin thinking about an implant."