Flicker Blue 1: Plain Jane

by Brea Nicole Bond

Chapter VIII

  Overload

  Her heart rate quickened as the flashes intensified, and, for several seconds that seemed more like years, Jane feared that she would pass out. What the hell is happening? Why am I hallucinating? Panicked, she shut her eyes tight. She heard a loud noise that seemed to originate from the very center of her head, a high-pitched snap that echoed between her ears. The pain of the noise was intense, and Jane struggled to catch her breath. Just as she thought her head might explode from sensory overload, the flashes began to slow. Jane felt the pressure in her head normalize, and she fell to her hands and knees. She drew a long breath, and the air felt different than she had expected—cleaner. She opened her eyes and started. Below her hands was the dark-stained wooden back porch of the Sylfaen mansion where she should have seen the dingy gray linoleum of the cafeteria floor.

  She tried to speak, but she couldn’t draw in enough breath to carry her voice. “Cris?” she squeaked. There was no answer. Jane spent several more moments focusing on making the fresh outdoor air pump in and out of her lungs. She was grateful that the weather was so warm, because she had left her jacket….

  Left my jacket where? At school? How the hell did I get here? She was confused—she had been speaking to Cris, and they had…kissed. And then, just as she had decided that kissing Cris was wrong, that she preferred for their friendship to remain the same as it had been, the whole cafeteria had been bathed in blue flashing light. But how did I get home?

  Jane pushed back on her hands and sat up on her knees. She thought she might be ready to attempt standing. As she rose, she spotted the porch swing less than six feet in front of her. I thought about the swing—about Cris and me, on the swing. And now I’m here…I did this. Instinctively, Jane knew that she’d made it happen herself, but that still didn’t explain how it was possible. She knew what she had to do next. Jane carefully rose to her feet. Two deep breaths later, she was opening the glass doors into the great room, where Angelita was cleaning under the cushions of a massive sofa. When the doors clicked closed behind Jane, Angelita whirled around and flicked off the vacuum.

  “Jane? What are you doing home so soon? Are you okay?” As she spoke, Angelita put her hand on Jane’s forehead. The girl gave no answers, so Angelita continued her inquiry. “I didn’t hear you drive up. Why did you come in this way? Oh, baby, you look so pale….”

  Jane’s brow furrowed. I can’t tell her anything…I wonder if lying hurts, too.

  “I—I have a headache. I’m going upstairs,” she said, ignoring the rest of Angelita’s questions. Apparently lying was okay, or at least not telling the whole truth was. Her head was certainly a mess, and she was going upstairs…just not to her room. Jane knew that her voice sounded odd—cold—but she was trying to fight off the sense of shock that was already beginning to make her hands shake uncontrollably. She had to hold it off long enough to reach her godfather, upstairs. She grabbed the railing of the staircase and nearly dragged herself to the second floor. Her legs didn’t want to work. Just as Jane tugged herself to the top step, she tripped and fell forward onto the landing. Her hip and elbow hit the floor with two loud wooden thumps that echoed against the library doors. Dr. Sylfaen emerged to investigate the noise within seconds.

  “Angelita? What is going on out there? What was—” When he spotted his goddaughter sprawled across the landing, he stopped short and fell to his knees beside her. “Jane?”

  “Uncle…Mederick….” Jane’s voice was still weak, but she was conscious.

  “Can you stand?”

  “I….” Before she could manage an answer, Dr. Sylfaen scooped Jane into his arms and carried her into the library. His strength surprised her, but she laid her head weakly against his shoulder until he settled her into one of the chairs around the great table.

  “Catch your breath, Jane. I need for you to tell me everything.”

  “Can I? I…I don’t want to….”

  “You should be able to tell me what happened safely. If you do begin to feel any of the pain, however, stop speaking immediately.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  Dr. Sylfaen smiled, but his face was tense. “I have faith that you will reason it out.” Then he sat in one of the chairs that did not face her, as if he meant to wait while she did just that.

  Jane wasn’t sure that she was feeling up to dealing with Dr. Sylfaen’s madness. No, she corrected herself, not madness. Who am I to label anyone as crazy? I just made myself appear on the back porch! She took another deliberate breath and straightened her back. She needed to focus for a few minutes. Okay, let’s see. Uncle Mederick told me not to talk to anyone about my…changes. That was the safest word she could find to describe what was happening to her. He isn’t just worried about me revealing secrets, although I’m sure that factors in somewhere. When I started talking about him to Cris and everyone at our table at school, the pain was so bad that I passed out. And Uncle Mederick can’t tell me anything…but he can affirm what I have already guessed—what I already know. Jane’s tired brain began to throb, like when she tried to solve those stupid Sudoku puzzle books that her mom used to put in her Christmas stocking. Okay, Jane, focus! He can talk to me, but only if he doesn’t tell me anything that I don’t already know. Just like I can’t tell anyone anything about myself that they don’t already know. She tried to recall what she had accidentally revealed to Cris the first time she blacked out. No luck. Uncle Mederick is the only exception because he knows what is happening to me. So, he feels confident that I will be able to speak to him about today because….

  “You know that I can do something…different,” she finished aloud.

  Dr. Sylfaen pulled his eyes from whatever he had been watching out the window. They narrowed, but he was not surprised. Still, he seemed to choose his words carefully. “I knew that was a distinct possibility.”

  She nodded. I hope he knew that popping out of one place and into another was a possibility. “I left school today.” It was a hesitant way to begin, but Jane was sure that, if she said something wrong, the darkness would easily overtake her. She felt so weak.

  “Obviously.”

  “Yeah…but I didn’t mean to leave school today.”

  Her godfather seemed intrigued. “You were compelled to leave, then.”

  “No.” He had guessed wrong, but that didn’t seem to affect him. Jane logged that knowledge away for future use. She also registered the heaviness in his voice when he said the word compelled.

  “You left school on your own authority.”

  “Yeah, I did. But I didn’t drive home.” No pain so far. That was good.

  He nodded. “You traveled by…other means.”

  “I didn’t travel at all, really. I just appeared here.”

  Dr. Sylfaen’s eyes grew a bit wider, but Jane felt nothing out of the ordinary. I’ve surprised him, but I haven’t told him anything he hasn’t heard of before. He must have known that this was a possibility, too.

  “You’ve heard of somebody else who could do this, too,” Jane ventured, eyeing the books that surrounded the room. He’d probably at least read about someone.

  “I have.” His emerald eyes smoldered as he considered what Jane had told him. Jane, in an act of exhaustion, buried her face in her hands and began to sob. She was beyond tired, but she was mostly relieved that she had not had to relive the pain in order to tell Dr. Sylfaen about her newest change. Now he could help her. “Oh, my dear Jane.” She heard him whisper at the same level as her ear—he had moved nearer to her, knelt down next to her chair. “I have so many questions that I cannot ask you…you have to tell me everything.” Jane had expected for him to be worried about her. Perhaps he was concerned on some level, but there was no mistaking the look in his eyes now. Dr. Sylfaen was proud.

  “Everything,” she promised after the shock of her newest little revelation subsided. “But I’m so tired right now. Can I go up to my room and rest for a while first?”

  “Of course. Go o
n to your room, and we can talk again after you’ve recovered. I believe Angelita has something special planned for this evening.”

  Jane groaned as she slid out of her seat and stood, steadying herself on the arm of the chair. Was it possible that, even with everything that had happened today, she was still going to be subjected to a birthday party?

  Dr. Sylfaen laughed at her reaction. “Happy birthday, my dearest Jane. Get some rest.” She pulled her hair tightly behind her ears and exited the library.

  Even though Jane’s bizarre entrance in the middle of a school day had surprised her, Angelita was in no way prepared for the arrival of her panicked son. She had flicked the vacuum cleaner back on and resumed her chore when Jane began climbing the stairs, so Angelita had not heard the scene that unfolded on the library landing. Nor had she heard the engine of Jane’s BMW screech into the driveway, the violent protests of the kitchen door hinges as Cris hurtled into the house. The first thing she noticed was her son lurching up the staircase, holding his backpack in one hand and Jane’s in the other.

  “Cristobel Marquez! What are you doing home?” Her voice carried a sharp, firm edge, like he’d better be in trouble—or he was going to be.

  Cris spun to face her, and Angelita took a step back. His face was wrong. Not pale exactly (that might have been impossible for Cris), but chalky. His eyes prickled with fear. “Mamí…I have to go see Dr. Sylfaen.” Cris’s voice was shaky, and his lips trembled as he spoke.

  “You’re not going anywhere until you talk to me!” She commanded, but the customary maternal tone had returned to her voice. “Are you hurt? Has something happened?”

  Cris tried to answer in a hoarse whisper, but his eyes had already turned back to the stairs. “J-Jane, she…she….” He took another step up the staircase.

  “I know, Cris. She got here a little while ago. What happened?!”

  Cris turned back to his mother so quickly that he had to catch the railing in order not to fall. “She-she’s here?”

  Angelita frowned. “Yes,” she answered slowly.

  “She’s safe?”

  “Of course, baby. She said she had a headache, so she went up to her room.”

  “She’s in her room?”

  “That’s what I said.” Angelita moved to meet Cris where he was perched, halfway up the staircase, and she put her hands on either side of his frightened face. He was sweating, but his skin was cold as ice. “What happened?”

  Cris’s eyes rolled wildly and he fought his head from between her small hands. When he was free, he continued his dash upstairs, but he didn’t stop at the second floor. Instead, he turned on the landing and ran all the way up to the third floor, leaving Angelita bewildered on the staircase below him.

  Jane sensed that someone was in her bedroom before she opened the door. She expected that she might have to come up with a better explanation for Angelita after she finished speaking with Dr. Sylfaen, but she hadn’t thought that she would be waiting for her. She began to open the door slowly, but the knob peeled out of her hand as the door swung ajar violently, revealing Cris in her doorway. He looks terrible, she thought. His shaggy black hair was pulled into mad tangles all over his head, and his eyes were unreadable, black glass. She started to speak, but his arms were around her, squeezing her before she could react to his presence.

  “Cris—Cris you’re hurting me,” she croaked as he pulled her into her room.

  He either didn’t hear her or was ignoring her, for he maintained his grip as he replied. “Oh my God, Janie. What happened to you? I-I’ve never been so scared in my whole life. I thought—I thought…Jesus, I don’t even know what I thought!”

  “Cris! Let go of me!” She managed to draw enough breath to yell at him this time. He started and dropped his arms immediately. A bit of his normal expression returned to his face, but he still looked terrified. “I’m okay. Aside from nearly being crushed just now, I’m really okay. See?” She held out her arms and turned in a little circle, to exhibit that her claim was true.

  His eyes followed her closely. He wasn’t convinced. “Janie, please. What happened?”

  “I—” She hadn’t intended to tell him anything that she couldn’t, but the familiar pressure of impending pain edged at her belly. Crap. I didn’t even say anything! She closed her mouth so hard that her lips were reduced to white lines across her face. As she winced, Cris gripped her shoulders. She blocked him out of her mind and focused instead on inhaling, exhaling until the invisible barb disappeared completely.

  “Please don’t…leave again,” her friend whispered desperately.

  When she could speak, she tried her best to comfort him. She, at least, had been given some assurance that this was normal (well, maybe not normal, but not necessarily a death curse, she thought), but Cris was completely in the dark. The whole episode had probably been horrifying for him. “I’m here. I’m okay.” She pushed against his chest and steered him into the chair under the window. He yielded and collapsed into it. “You look like crap, though. I’m very sorry that I frightened you today.”

  “What happened, Janie?”

  He wasn’t going to stop asking. Jane shook her head and shot him a look that communicated very clearly that she didn’t intend to tell him. Cris closed his eyes and began tugging at his tangled locks of black hair with his fingers.

  “Stop that. I’m really sorry, about everything, but you need to try to put yourself back together. Everything is going to be okay—I promise,” she stated with a confidence she wished she felt. Jane grabbed the brush from her vanity table and began to undo the knots that Cris had worked into his hair as he worried about her. He pulled her down onto his lap; she relented and shook her head as she continued to work through the dark tangles.

  After several minutes, Cris spoke. “Janie, was this my fault?”

  His question stumped her for a fraction of a second. Was it Cris’s fault? I did travel when he kissed me…well, when we kissed each other. There was no point in lying to herself on that detail. No, if I can do this, and I think I probably could again if I tried, it was probably only a matter of time before it happened. Jane reached over to lay the brush on the end of her bed. She put one hand on either of his shoulders, and peered directly into his eyes. “No,” she said.

  As she leaned in to kiss him, Cris flinched, but the back of the chair prevented his escape. Not until he was sure that Jane was not about to disappear again did he allow himself to kiss her back, and, even then, the eagerness he had displayed earlier that afternoon was dampened by his terror. Jane pulled back and smiled. “See?”

  He nodded slowly. “You look…tired.”

  “I am.”

  “Get some sleep before your party.” He looked at her alarm clock. “I need to call Hannah Grace before school gets out, so she knows to find another ride over here.”

  Jane jerked to a standing position.

  “What? You still want to have a birthday party, right?”

  Jane took a breath, and her shoulders dropped back to the appropriate level. “I want to get my hands on whoever started the rumor that I wanted to have one in the first place.”

  Cris forced a laugh, but his voice was uneasy. “Go on, get some rest. I’ll come get you in plenty of time for you to get ready, okay?”

  Jane sighed and dropped onto her bed.