“Probably because they are,” Oliver replied, rolling his eyes, a bit exasperated by all the Jackson intrigue. He dragged and clicked until both graphs appeared side by side. “Listen, show us something we don’t know.”
“Go back to April sixteenth.” Jackson was unfazed by Oliver’s irritability.
Oliver did as he was told and performed another quick search. A third graph appeared on screen. It also displayed that unique spiking pattern we had come to know.
“Bingo, sports fans,” Oliver piped up like a game-show emcee. “We have a winner.”
“So that’s when the pulse began? April sixteenth?” I looked directly at Jackson, expecting some kind of confirmation. Instead Jackson hesitated a beat before answering.
“Maybe not.”
“You’re saying there were others?” That was news to me. “When? How far back should we go?” I pressed Jackson, eager to get to the bottom of when the pulse actually began. He didn’t answer my question.
“Oliver, plug in the exact coordinates for the spike,” commanded Jackson.
“Great. Just what I feel like doing: solving math problems,” Oliver sniped while begrudgingly inputting the data.
“Now search for all possible matches.” Jackson stared intently at the screen, expecting Oliver to follow instructions.
“Aye, aye, Captain.” Oliver saluted, then obeyed Jackson’s order.
We watched as the search quickly retrieved 5 MATCHES FOUND. The first four matched the dates we already knew about including July twentieth. Which left one other date.
I looked at Jackson with anticipation. He stared at me and then leaned over Oliver’s shoulder and hit the enter key. An electromagnetic radiation chart filled up the entire screen with dozens of zigzagging colored lines.
“It’s not recent,” announced Oliver, quite surprised by what he saw. “It’s not even from last year.”
“June seventh, 1996,” Jackson announced unemotionally, as if he had a hunch about what we might find.
“That’s more than seventeen years ago!” I was stunned.
Oliver shook his head, more confused than ever. “Why are our bodies freaking out when we weren’t even born back then?”
He wanted to know and so did I. I looked to Jackson for an explanation. I could tell by his poker-faced stare that he wasn’t the least bit surprised by what we had just discovered.
10. SILENCE IS GOLDEN
* * *
We cruised through town in Jackson’s Mustang. I sat in the front seat next to Jackson. Oliver was unhappily wedged in the backseat, muttering how he was starting to feel like the third wheel. It was nearly six p.m. and getting dark. Businesses were preparing to close for the night. Shoppers were heading home from the market with food for dinner. By all appearances it looked just like the end of another typical day in Barrington.
Jackson had insisted on driving Oliver and me home. I wasn’t sure what he thought might happen between his house and our own, but Jackson didn’t want us on the streets alone. Oliver was relieved—he said he was too exhausted to walk home. And I took any excuse to ride up front next to Jackson. I kept staring at his muscular thighs, which looked like they were about to rip through his worn jeans.
And it wasn’t even over yet. There were still several hours to go before the effects of the pulse wore off. I planned on locking myself in my bedroom until morning. By then it would hopefully be safe enough to face the world without the risk of disappearing. Even though I had managed to keep myself “whole” since school had ended that afternoon, I knew I wasn’t fully in control of my body. In addition, there was also the not-so-insignificant matter of our recent discovery, which we vowed to keep quiet.
“Seventeen years seems so random,” I declared, abruptly breaking the silence, trying to make some sense of everything.
“Maybe that’s just because we don’t see the full picture yet,” Jackson countered.
I knew he was probably right. Despite hitting a brick wall as to knowing what caused the first pulse seventeen years ago, we weren’t through digging. Not by a long shot. We also needed to figure out why the pulse had been suddenly reawakened six months ago.
“Notice anything strange?” Jackson asked. His eyes darted back and forth between looking out through the windshield and up to the rearview mirror.
Wondering what he meant, I peered out the passenger window and looked up and down the street. It took me a few seconds to notice what Jackson was talking about.
“Bar Tech Security,” I replied, counting four patrol cars cruising along the street.
“They’re everywhere,” Jackson declared. “I counted three additional cars in just the last two blocks.”
“Now that you mention it,” Oliver concurred, turning around and staring out the rear window, “there were several cars hanging around school today. It didn’t even register.”
“They’re like the Russian KGB. Lurking around every corner,” Jackson proclaimed ominously. “Watching our every move.”
“Not that you’re being overly paranoid or anything . . . ,” I retorted somewhat jokingly, hoping to lighten the mood and maybe my own apprehension. “What do you think they’re looking for?”
“The question isn’t what,” Jackson answered back, firmly. “It’s who.”
• • •
After depositing Oliver at his front door, Jackson took me directly home. Normally I’d be thrilled to have some quality alone time with him. Just the two of us seated side by side in his cozy sports car. Unfortunately, today was not the ideal day for flirting. I was a bit preoccupied. We both were.
Along the way to my house we passed six more Bar Tech Security vehicles. Jackson didn’t mention them and neither did I. There was no need. After each one drove by, he’d glance over at me. I’d feel his intense stare. It gave me goose bumps. When I’d look back at him, he’d abruptly turn away. Was he just concerned about me like a big brother? I had no idea what was going on inside his head.
We made it all the way to my street without incident. Jackson pulled the Mustang into my driveway. I started to unfasten the seat belt when I felt Jackson grab my hand. I became flustered, not knowing how to react. He’d never done that before—touch me so forcefully like that. Was he trying to stop me from leaving? I felt my face burning up, turning bright red. I wanted him to kiss me. Did he want to kiss me? I had no idea what it meant.
Until Jackson said, “Looks like you have a visitor.”
I shot him a befuddled look, not sure I heard him correctly. Then I followed his gaze out the windshield. Maya was sitting on my front steps, waiting for me to come home. I felt so deflated.
“What’s she doing here?” I muttered, completely thrown to see her at my front door after the confrontation she and everyone had had in the school parking lot that day.
“I’m sure you’re about to find out. Want me to hang around?”
Although I wanted him to stay, I shook my head and lied. “Thanks. It’s probably better if I talk to Maya alone, given how she feels about you.” Having Jackson there might complicate matters, not to mention be a major distraction for me. I was still too worried about what he thought of me. I needed to focus and be on my game when dealing with Maya.
“Right,” Jackson replied. Was he disappointed or relieved? I had no clue.
I opened the car door and got out of the Mustang. “I’ll text you later,” I promised, peering in the window.
Jackson nodded, then backed out of the driveway and drove away.
I took a deep breath before proceeding up the front path. Maya stood up. Even from twenty feet away I could see her eyes were bloodshot. She’d definitely been crying.
“Sorry to show up like this,” Maya said sheepishly, wiping her eyes as I approached the front door. “I didn’t know where else to go.” Despite her put-together appearance, the girl was seriously unraveling.
“Want to come inside?” I took out my house keys and unlocked the door. “My dad won’t be home till seven.”
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She nodded. “Thanks.” Then we stepped inside the house.
Maya followed me into the kitchen. “You want something to drink?” I opened the refrigerator. Dad had filled it with fruit and vegetable juice concoctions, various flavors of diet Hansen’s, and liter bottles of mineral water.
“Water’s fine,” she said, looking around the house.
I poured two glasses and handed one to her. There was an awkward pause as we both sipped our drinks. I felt so self-conscious just sitting in my kitchen with Maya, acting like we were real friends yet neither of us knowing what to say. Maya was the first to speak.
“Chase and I had this huge fight. It was awful.”
“Sorry.” A pathetic response, but I really didn’t know what else to say.
“We went for pizza after school,” Maya continued. “On the way home he kept asking if something was wrong. Pressing me about going AWOL at school. He thinks I’m cheating on him, which is so ridiculous. I told him it wasn’t true. He wouldn’t listen. I don’t know what came over me. Everything was fine and then it wasn’t.”
Maya’s left hand balled up into a tight fist. I could tell she was wound even tighter than usual. So I trod carefully, fearing she might fly off the handle. I didn’t need my father’s kitchen to look like a tornado hit it. “What happened?”
“I’m not sure. All of a sudden there was this explosion of anger inside me. Out of nowhere. I felt like I wanted to rip Chase’s head off. I ran out of the car before . . . I did something.”
“Like in the classroom?” I gently reminded her.
She nodded. “I didn’t want Chase to see me that way. I thought I could control it. My rage. But tree branches started snapping off, hitting his car. I even smashed his car window.”
“I know how you feel,” I declared. “So do Oliver and Jackson.”
Maya sunk down into a chair at the kitchen table. “I’m really sorry about before. At school. I was a total bitch.”
“Yeah, you were,” I confessed with a little laugh, trying to make a joke, as I sat down next to her. Fortunately, Maya laughed too. I quickly added, “You were also scared.”
“I still am.” She exhaled loudly.
“So am I,” I admitted, touching her hand to let her know she was not alone.
“Truth is, I have been for a while,” she admitted. “And I haven’t been completely up front about everything.”
“Up front about what?” I wasn’t quite sure where she was going with this.
She took a deep breath before speaking. “This wasn’t the first time all of this happened to me.”
“You didn’t just develop this ability today, did you?”
Maya shook her head guiltily. “It happened once before. I thought I was going crazy. But then it just . . . went away. The next day it was like nothing had ever happened. So I convinced myself that I had imagined it. That it was all just a bad dream. Instead of my body betraying me.”
“Believe me: I know how that feels,” I said with a reassuring smile.
“Well, that was then. And this is now. And now I’m ready,” she declared, sitting up straight, staring back at me with a renewed sense of Maya purpose. As if she were preparing to perform at a cheerleading competition.
“Okay. What for?” I wasn’t exactly sure what she meant.
“To join your crew,” she proclaimed. “Become the Fourth Musketeer or X-Woman. Or whatever else you guys are doing. I mean, you want to find out why this is happening to us, right?”
This was a surprising turnaround. As Maya made her pitch, I thought that she could be a real asset to the team. She was in good with the school administration. Plus she could get us access to places Jackson, Oliver, and I might never be able to get into alone.
“Then the first thing you’re going to have to learn how to do,” I advised, “is control your ability.”
“No way.” Maya shook her head, adamant. “It freaks me out.”
“You need to make friends with your power. You can’t let it control you.”
“Thanks, Guru Nica,” she snapped back, clasping her hands together and bowing her head as though she were praying. “You sound like one of those creepy self-help books. Ten Days to a Happier Life.”
I stood up, prepared to teach her a little lesson. “Watch and learn.”
Maya sat back in her chair, arms crossed, waiting for something to happen.
That’s when I disappeared right in front of her stunned eyes in about three seconds flat.
“What the—?” She bolted up out of her chair and looked around the kitchen in complete disbelief. “Nica? Where the hell are you?”
I decided to have a little fun with Maya. Just to prove my point, I snuck behind her and flicked her hair.
She yelped and spun around, looking for any sign of me. “Stop that! It’s not funny.”
“Yes it is,” I replied, seemingly out of thin air. Then I began moving random objects around. Her chair. A glass. I even opened cabinets and the sliding glass door to the backyard, finally culminating with me whispering in Maya’s ear, “Right behind you.”
She turned around one last time as I reappeared. “Ta-da!”
“Okay, already. I get your point.” Maya let out a reluctant sigh. “I’m in your hands.”
I moved Maya’s water glass across the kitchen table. “Okay, we’ll start nice and easy. Concentrate on the glass and move it toward you.”
“That’s easy?”
“Yes. You can do it. It’s all about focusing your energy up here”—I tapped her forehead—“and transferring it to the glass. The key is not to force it or try too hard. Remember how I had you do it at school?”
Maya nodded. “Breathe. Relax. And focus.” Then she stared at the glass. Inhaled and exhaled slow, steady breaths.
I watched all the tension leave her body. One thing about Maya—she was the ultimate overachiever. So when she set her mind to a particular task, she performed it exceptionally well. After a few false starts she got the hang of it.
The glass glided slowly across the table, then moved around in figure eights.
“I did it. I moved the glass,” Maya exclaimed giddily, completely surprised and excited by her ability. “What next?”
“Try opening the refrigerator door.” I commanded.
Maya stared at the door and whoosh! It flew wide open like it was no big deal. She then looked at the chairs and tried rearranging them. First one at a time, lining them up in a straight line. Then shuffling them all around at once until they were back in the original positions where they started.
All of sudden Maya turned her head toward me. Before I knew what was happening, I had levitated off the floor. Thanks to Maya’s power I was literally suspended four feet off the ground. Maya was giggling, having a grand old time playing with me.
“Okay, awesome display,” I told her, giving her props. “You got the hang. Now put me down, girl.” But Maya was intent on having her fun with me—maybe even teaching me a lesson. She spun me around a few more times for good measure before finally dropping me on my feet.
“That what you had in mind?” Maya asked, plopping in her chair, totally spent. “By the way, do you have any junk food in this health mecca of yours? I’m famished. And I don’t want tofu or carrot wafers whatever.”
I laughed. “How does caramel popcorn sound?”
“Like you read my mind.” Her eyes lit up as I went over to the pantry and pulled out an unopened bag of caramel popcorn that was hidden behind the healthy snacks. As far as I could tell, it was my dad’s only unhealthy indulgence. I figured he’d understand me consoling a friend in her time of need. “So, why us?” Maya asked, suddenly getting serious.
“No clue.”
“And you guys have no idea what’s causing it either?”
“No,” I confessed. “We don’t.”
“What does your dad say? I mean he’s a doctor and all.”
“Nothing,” I replied matter-of-factly, as we sat back down at the tab
le with the popcorn. “I haven’t told him anything yet.”
“Why not? Shouldn’t we be telling someone what’s going on?” she wondered, ripping into the bag and grabbing a handful of the sticky caramel treat.
“It’s probably best to keep a low profile for the time being,” I answered cryptically.
“Why? What’s gonna happen to us?” Maya challenged me with a raised eyebrow.
“You know those blood tests my dad does at school? I think he might be sharing the results with Richard Cochran.”
“With Chase’s father?” Maya reacted, really upset. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” I nodded reluctantly. “Pretty sure.”
“Your dad drew my blood. Why would Mr. Cochran care about our blood tests?” Maya asked, genuinely baffled by the news.
“I doubt it’s because he’s looking for donors to the annual blood drive,” I remarked. “Bar Tech is involved in all sorts of cutting-edge scientific research. Most of it highly secretive.”
“What’s he using the information for?”
“We don’t know,” I confessed. “But there are definitely strange things Jackson and Oliver have uncovered too. Going all the way back to Dana’s disappearance.” I filled her in on the specifics. And how our parents shut us down whenever we asked any questions. “When I tried talking to my dad about all those birds dying, he just dismissed it as if it was no big deal.”
“I’m a terrible liar,” Maya remarked. “My parents will know something’s up with me. I talk to them about everything.”
“Not anymore,” I insisted. “Just be like other kids and keep your mouth shut. Not a word to anyone. Not even Chase. It’s the only way.”
“To what?”
“Find out what’s really going on in this town.”
• • •
Maya left my house a few minutes before my dad was due home. She hugged me and thanked me once more for being her friend and letting her into “the club,” such as it was. Considering the wild events of the day Maya was in remarkably good spirits. Then again it might have just been a major sugar rush from all that caramel popcorn she scarfed down.
“Knowing I’m not totally alone . . . helps,” she acknowledged appreciatively.
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