by Darrell Bain
Jimmy nodded. Amber was sitting next to him, and, before Pat and Bailey returned, her hand inched over and fitted inside his. Their thoughts flowed together in a pleasant blend that was becoming more enjoyable all the time.
Since it was her home rather than Jimmy's, Amber went first. She was almost crying as she described how she had been awakened during the night that first time.
"I didn't want to be there, but I couldn't help it! It was like being at the movies, sorta, but in my mind instead of on a screen. I tried to hide from it ... from you, but I couldn't!” She began crying then and had to stop talking. She gripped Jimmy's hand so tightly that she felt him wince in her mind. She loosened her hold and leaned her head on his shoulder.
"Oh mercy, baby. Please don't cry. We'll work something out.” Pat was trying to remember everything she and Bailey had done that night after too many drinks. And the next time, too. She must have heard that one, too.
"We're learning to shut out what we don't want to hear, Mom. I did it the other night, mostly. And we're getting better at it. I won't listen, or whatever it is we do again. Honest."
"You don't have to convince us, Lumpkin. We always believe you."
"I know you do,” Amber said, already feeling better. “I saw your last thought ‘cause I was upset and not concentrating. We know we shouldn't invade people's minds without them knowing.” She paused before going on with their main concern about Jeannie not taking it seriously enough.
"We'll talk about that later. Go on with the details now,” Bailey encouraged. “When you're finished, Jimmy can talk. I may need another drink by then though.” The joke helped lighten the mood, but both Amber and Jimmy knew Bailey was as serious as ever.
They could see he was being truthful. Amber continued telling their story, not leaving anything out, especially about Mrs. Larkin and how much she hated the group in general, Jimmy, Jeannie, and her in particular. “She thinks everyone in the group can maybe read minds, but she's absolutely sure about the three of us. And Bailey, Mom ... she seems to be gloating beneath the hating, like she knows something that will hurt us."
Bailey nodded. He didn't doubt it. He and Pat had had several run-ins with the teacher the last few years. He had liked her less each time and did even more so now. However, he wanted to hear everything. He looked at Jimmy. “What about you, Jimmy? Does she hate you, too?"
"Yes, sir. It's like Amber and Jeannie said. She saw me yesterday, and I got the same impression. It's hard not to notice when she has such strong feelings. I still don't understand why, though."
Bailey let Jimmy continue with his experiences while he tried to think how to explain Larkin to thirteen year olds. She was the type who loved being the center of attention yet had no attributes to put her there. From the moment the children, rather than her, began getting so much notice, she had disliked them, and that made her pay closer attention to them than anyone else, except perhaps for Casey. Bailey noted with wry amusement that he and Pat were holding hands as tightly as the kids. He deliberately lifted their intertwined fingers into the air enough to let them see that adults sometimes needed comfort and closeness too. It was the right move. Jimmy spoke more freely after that. Bailey continued running the events through his analytical mind.
"Let's go back a minute, Jimmy. You, too, Amber. Am I getting it right that, so far as you know, it's just the three of you who can do this?"
"Yes, sir,” they both said, their voices blending into one. Amber went even further. “Bailey, I don't know how to explain this, but, for some reason, I don't think the other kids will ever be like us. Their minds are ... different, I guess is the only way to say it. Jimmy, Jeannie, and I thought for a long time we were just better at knowing what people were going to do and how they were going to act, you know, like our mirror neurons were bouncier than theirs or something. Now that we've talked, I guess maybe we really started reading minds a while ago and didn't realize what we were doing."
"I think so, too,” Jimmy said. “And Amber's right. The other kids won't be able to do it like we do. They're ... different from us.
"Now why should that be?” Pat asked with a puzzled frown.
"That's what we need to find out,” Bailey said. “And in the meantime, I'm probably going to embarrass you guys. Please don't think I'm prying. Okay?"
Both of them nodded, already knowing what was coming. And abruptly, seeing them holding hands and sitting so closely together Pat realized what it was, too. She bit her lip but didn't try to stop him.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
"I guess you've already started discovering some of the benefits of being able to read each other's thoughts, haven't you?” Bailey asked.
"Yes, sir,” Amber admitted, knowing what he was getting at. “We haven't done anything yet, though. Not much anyways."
"You will, though. This is making your minds grow up even faster than your bodies are, I think. Both of you are much more mature than other kids your age already, you know. In fact, you're more mature than lots of adults I know, and this will only speed up the process."
"They are more mature,” Pat agreed. “But why?"
Bailey tried to explain the best he could. “Actually, I don't see how it could be otherwise. Most of the kids in the group have been much more aware than normal children ever since the attack. Part of the maturing process is a gradual realization of how other people have personalities too, with all the conflicting emotions, feelings toward others, the likes and dislikes, the different areas of knowledge, and a thousand other things involved in giving each person a unique mind. But now...” he gestured at the two youngsters “...now these kids are having it thrown at them in huge amounts at once, more than some people would realize or understand in a lifetime. It can't help but speed them on the way to adulthood."
The youngsters both nodded, admitting as much. As they did, their minds touched, remembering their last embrace. Amber felt that pleasant awareness of Jimmy's presence again, like a part of her mind sitting next to her. She could sense that he was feeling much the same way.
Bailey continued. “How does Jeannie feel about the two of you being so close? Is she feeling left out, do you think?” Bailey had identified that as a possible point of trouble. If Jeannie was indeed like these two, she would soon be feeling mighty lonely. Sex and youngsters was always an explosive mix, and not having someone she could relate to in a sexual way, with all that mind reading implied, might turn her sour if it weren't handled right.
Amber answered, looking back and forth between Bailey and Mom. “I guess she does feel left out some, but it's not a problem yet Bailey."
"Well, be sure and stay close to her and include her in as much as you can.” He squeezed Pat's hand. “I'm speaking here without really being able to grasp all you two—or three—I should say, encompass, but I know how personalities work, at least as well as anyone does. When a person is excluded from important happenings they think they should be a part of, it can make them bitter and cause them to respond in ways that aren't healthy."
"Bailey, is all this necessary just yet?” Pat was having a hard time making the jump in her mind that Bailey had already had made. She looked across at the two children—still children in her thoughts—and tried to envisage them being in love, having sex, acting as adults. It wouldn't quite jell.
Amber caught Pat's concern. “Mom, it probably is.” She stopped short of going further, not wanting to conceal her thoughts from her mother but not wanting to upset her either. What she and Jimmy were thinking and feeling was personal and private.
Bailey saw Amber's hesitation and decided to move on to another area; he could talk to Pat later. “Now let's try to figure out why the three of you should develop this talent when none of the other kids have. Did you all eat the same things that day? Did you do anything different from the other kids? Can you remember anything different about you three and no one else from back then?"
Amber and Jimmy both shook their heads. Nothing came to mind.
Pat searched her memory of that awful time, trying to think. It was such a long time ago, and so far as she knew, the three of them had simply played together and went to school together, just like all the others who had fallen ill back then. There had been nothing different. The weekend before they had been at her house Saturday afternoon, but that was just ... “You all three got poison ivy the weekend before the attack!” Pat burst out wildly with the remembered occurrence. That Sunday before the attack the next day, Amber and Jimmy had begun itching. The rash looked suspiciously like Poison Ivy to Pat, having had it herself, and she had treated Amber.
"Did you give them anything for it?” Bailey asked, a sudden tenseness apparent in his voice.
"Just ointment and Benadryl. I gave it to Amber, and when Melissa asked, I gave her some for Jimmy. They took it Sunday and the school nurse dispensed some more Monday when I asked her to. I don't know whether Jeannie got any, but I did call her mother and tell her what I had done for Amber and Jimmy. I remember she told me Jeannie had Poison Ivy, too. That stuff can drive you crazy with the itching."
"Diphenylhydramine,” Bailey exclaimed.
"What?” Pat asked.
"Diphenylhydramine. That's the generic name for Benadryl. Pat, how about calling Mrs. Burger and seeing if she remembers—no, don't. There's not that much hurry.” He turned to Amber and Jimmy. “I'm going to ask you to keep this a secret for now. Don't even tell Jeannie. It's not that I don't trust her, but I don't want to take even the slightest chance of this getting out. I don't know that there's a connection, but if there's not, it's pushing coincidence to the limits!” Bailey couldn't quite contain his excitement. He had the formula the terrorists had originally used, the one the FBI had kept secret and which had caused such unintended consequences, and now perhaps he had the formula that would produce mind readers at will—providing the drugs were given at an early enough age and parents were willing to risk their children. It could even react the same way if given to older people though he doubted it. All that was a long way off though. In the meantime, he knew someone who could experiment on animals and see what happened and also keep a secret. That was if he could have the nerve agent manufactured without being tagged as a terrorist. While running that through his mind, another thought formed. The kids probably caught it, but if not, it was just as well. And it might not help, anyway.
Amber did miss the thought, just as Jimmy did. While Pat and Bailey were on that subject, she touched minds with Jimmy in the way that was becoming easier and easier. She was excited, too, but for a different reason. The way this discussion had developed, it was as though she and Jimmy had almost been given permission to have sex or at least to consider it soon, if that was what they wanted. Well, Bailey had. Mom was still wavering. She didn't have to read her mind to know that much.
Jimmy's mind showed the same eagerness as Amber's, yet she could sense the confusion and apprehension normal for most young, inexperienced boys. He held a yearning hope that she would like it when it happened, and a perfectly normal worry all young men have over whether he could do it right when the first time came.
Amber squeezed his hand while assuring him mentally that it would work for both of them. She wanted it to be good for both of them as much as he did when the time came. She also told him without words that he was really sweet and the thoughts in his mind weren't nearly as self-centered as those she had perceived in other boys.
Pat stood up and came over to where Amber and Jimmy were still looking at each other. She waited until she had their attention, and Amber stood up too, followed by Jimmy. Pat reached out and pulled her daughter into an embrace while a sudden spate of tears trickled down her cheeks. She reached up and wiped her fingers across her face and tasted her tears with her lips. Their saltiness seemed to epitomize the quandary she felt, the dichotomy of her emotions. On the one hand, her little girl was growing up into a healthy, mature young woman; on the other hand, she knew she hadn't been prepared for it, not this soon.
"It will be okay, Mom,” Amber said, trying to ease her mother's mind.
"It's all right, baby. We'll have a talk tonight, just the two of us. Okay?"
"Sure, Mom,” Amber said, unable to avoid her mother's thoughts as they skittered around various subjects, some of the images in her mother's mind a surprise as she suddenly realized she didn't know quite as much as she thought she did.
* * * *
That night, Pat lay in Bailey's arms, using his embrace as a source of strength. She had talked with Amber after the evening meal, just the two of them. It had been one of the hardest conversations she had ever had with her daughter. She had been amazed and appalled at the depth of her daughter's knowledge concerning sex and relationships, yet she had still been able to fill in some glaring weaknesses in Amber's comprehension of the subject. She felt as if she were sending her daughter to a woman's bed far too soon, even though Amber assured her she still wanted to wait a while. Pat hoped so. She would turn thirteen during the coming week and have her Turnteen party in her home Saturday night.
"Bailey, I can't really imagine how the kids must feel. I mean, what would it be like if you and I could merge our minds completely when we wanted to?"
"I think it would be wonderful in some ways, but I suppose we'll never know."
"Never?"
"Hmm. With what we deduced today, if Jeannie also took Benadryl, I guess I shouldn't say never, but it appears as if a person has to be fairly young to get the kind of results those three did. Anyway, I think we do pretty good as is, don't you?” To demonstrate, he pulled her closer for a lingering kiss and caress.
Pat accepted it, holding back only a moment at the thought that Amber might be “listening” then forgot it in the rising pleasure of Bailey's stimulation. Soon their minds were merged as thoroughly as normal humans could ever achieve.
* * * *
Casey found a vacancy in an office building near the school that was perfect for his purposes. Inside, he could look out the tinted window and observe the children as they came and went from school without being spotted himself. He put a small deposit down in order to gain access and moved in a few items of cheap furniture in case he needed to stay overnight sometime. After that, he used the spot to clandestinely watch the school children for three days. He had no problem picking out Amber Morrison and Jimmy Gomez or the Burger girl who walked with them after school to the first intersection. He also memorized the others in the group from school photos and personal identification data furnished by Larkin and Schaffer. That took three weeks before he was ready to confront the three prime candidates for his plans. Before that happened, he found out something even more interesting.
He was at Larkin's simple home again, drinking her coffee and wishing for something with alcohol in it. Since resigning from the FBI, he had taken to having a few drinks during the day when he had time and liquor was available.
"You can confirm who they are, Mister Casey, as well as see that I know what I'm talking about. They won't be invited to Morrison's Turnteen party this weekend. Isn't that a silly name—and a silly practice? I swear, kids these days...” Her voice trailed off as she again thought of how unfair it was that children—children!—should have been granted such powers. Why couldn't it have happened to adults, persons like herself who could use it for practical purposes, like finding cheats and teachers with unsavory sex practices. According to her, there were lots of uses that were simply going to waste.
"You're saying these seven kids” he tapped the sheaf of printouts with photos Larkin had furnished him, “are a little antagonistic group within the main one, huh? And they're bad, you say?"
"Correct. Those four boys and three girls are always in trouble, but the little demons use their powers to avoid punishment. Why, Jordan Rhieman and Henry Keller have actually been arrested! The charges were dropped though. Can you imagine? And the girls! They're nothing but sluts. They'll wind up as streetwalkers by the time they're sixteen, mark my words."
Casey nodded,
knowing Larkin would think he was approving of her sentiments. What he was actually doing was forming a plan involving the “bad” kids and Maybe the Burger girl, too, if he could play her right, even though she wasn't one of the subgroup of wayward children. Kids never had enough money to spend on their music, games, and other entertainment somewhat more removed from the mainstream such as drugs and alcohol.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
"My Turnteen party isn't as popping as we thought it was going to be, is it?” Amber said. She was standing next to Jimmy in the garage where they were taking their turn to steal a few kisses out of the sight of adults.
"No,” Jimmy replied. “I guess we're growing up too fast. But you look real scorching.” He touched minds with her and provided an image of her from the vantage point where he had admired her a few minutes ago.
"Thank you,” Amber smiled up at him. She was dressed in new clothes in the current spring fashion. Her bright red jeans had a line of upright ovals cut away from the outside of each leg to show bare skin beneath. The matching red blouse's buttons didn't start until a portion of the slopes of her still growing breasts were revealed. She wore a flimsy bra beneath the blouse, which simply provided support below to keep her breasts from bouncing too much if they began dancing. So far, only one couple had.
Jimmy touched the soft waves of her light brown hair that tumbled around her shoulders then bent and kissed her, but not too hard. He didn't want to get excited enough for it to show, and it was time to go back inside. He took her hand and pulled the door open.
The garage door opened into the living room where dozens of teenagers, all older than Amber, mingled and talked and watched portions of a movie being played while they consumed an enormous amount of food and drink. It was traditional that kids who hadn't turned thirteen yet weren't allowed at Turnteen parties. Another couple had started dancing, using their earpieces to listen to music of their choice that only they could hear. They swayed and bounced in a peculiar rhythm vaguely resembling some African tribal dancing but was set to a typically fast American beat.