Alice 1

The World of Shadow

(Book I of
The
Alice T
rilogy
)

Janis Hoffman

Copyright 2015 by Ernest Kinnie

Smashwords Edition

An Over-Sexed Super-Smart Foul-Mouthed
Brat

THE WORLD OF SHADOW

CHAPTER 1

My wicked foster mother called me an evil,
lying, little tramp and came at me with a very sharp knife. That
was a seriously bad mistake. Sweet Uncle Dave was put on trial for
murder and I was sent to another foster home. When I testify, Uncle
Dave’s lawyer told me to act cute, a little scared, and say how
lucky I am to have such a wonderful uncle.

____________________

“Ms. Shannon, may I call you Alice?” He’s not
too bright, and talks like a toad.

“Oh yes, please do.” Glance nervously around the
room and shake a little. I’m a very, very good actress.

“Thank you, Alice. Would you tell the court
where you were on the night your foster mother, Mrs. Delancy, was
murdered?”

He made a big booboo there. I burst into
hysterical tears, jumped out of the witness box, and ran down the
aisle past two cops who crashed into each other trying to catch me.
I’m also a very, very fast runner.

After they gave me a delicious chocolate ice
cream cone, double dip, I was back on the witness stand. Oh my, all
those eyes looking up at me, so full of concern and pity. People
are so stupid and gullible, except for a skinny guy with a Santa
Claus beard in the back of the room, and a cute little girl with
Shirley Temple curls near the front. They know I’m just having a
little fun.

“Ms. Shannon, where were you on the evening of
October 24th?”

“I don’t know. I guess I was home. I’m always
home.”

“Yes but...a...the 24th of October was the
evening when the police came. Do you remember that Friday
evening?”

“Oh sure, I always watch the Billy Wiggly Show
Friday night. He’s so cute.”

Skinny Santa and the pretty little girl were
enjoying my show. The nice lawyer was not.

“Right. But...but...Ms. Shannon, on the evening
of Friday, October 24
^th
, something very bad happened to
your foster mother.”

Oh well, might as well go for variety. I
screamed, started to cry, and froze. Skinny Santa, the little kid
and I were having such a good time.

____________________

Uncle Dave was acquitted and I never saw him
again. He wasn’t my real uncle. I don’t have any aunts or uncles. I
don’t have nobody. Oh boo hoo hoo.

Save your sweet pity.

I couldn’t care less.

I never knew my father but he left a pile of
money, so I have a dumb, overpaid guardian. He sent me to a shrink
but that didn’t work so good. I went hysterical or froze whenever
that so tragic evening was mentioned. I tested the bunch of pills
on the dog next door, and flushed them down the toilet. Poor Romper
staggered around for a week.

The shrink gave up after a couple of months.
Then I turned 18, got the 12 million and a cute little cottage by
the sea on Big Sur. Robinson Jeffers used to live nearby. I’m not
much for school but google a lot. He’s my favorite poet.

Click
poems
and
Tor House
,

built from rock he dragged up from the
sea.

A month after I moved in, Skinny Santa came for
a visit. Didn’t push the buzzer or yell hello, just walked in and
plopped down on the ugly, overstuffed chair.

“I’m with a group that also has the Gift. We’d
like you to come visit.”

“Well of course I’m terribly flattered, but I’m
sure you know a very attractive young lady, with a tiny bit of
money, has to be very, very careful. You look kinda old for sex,
but money greed lives forever”.

“You have a lot to learn about older men, Alice.
No, we aren’t interested in sex or your money. We have plenty of
both. We must decide whether to invite you to join us, or kill you.
We had quite a fight whether to give you a chance. I fought for you
because I like your spirit, intelligence, and sense of humor.”

“What will decide if I live or die?”

“Whether we can trust you to use the Gift
responsibly, and keep it a secret.”

“Well now, I have so many gifts. Which one?”

“Your Shadow hands.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I believe you do.”

Should I throw him out? Nah. The chance to meet
other people who know about Shadow hands might not come again.

“I accept your gracious invitation. When and
where?”

“This coming Monday evening at seven, 9324
Guinevere Drive just south of Carmel”.

“I’ll be there. Got time for a few
questions?”

“No”.

____________________

I was 2 or 2 ½ when I realized I was different,
that I had the Gift. I was using my chubby hands to stack my blocks
and they were almost right. So I pushed them just right with my
magic hands. My mother saw the blocks move all by themselves and
made a kinda funny, squeaky noise, and had a scary face. After that
I was careful not to get caught.

First grade was when the fun began. Ugly Dorothy
spit on me and after that kept spilling stuff all over herself.
Like once she was just about to take a sip of orange juice and my
magic hands shoved the glass just a little away from her mouth.
They stretch a long way. That bright orange juice splashed all over
her pretty, green dress. Oh my, how sad.

When I was in the third grade I watched a
show on ancient Egypt. Hey! The program was about Shadow hands,
just like my magic hands. There’s a whole world right next to this
one. The old Egyptians called it the World of Shadow.

THE WORLD OF SHADOW

In high school I learned all about linear time
and Euclid’s three dimensions. The teacher thought he had the whole
universe figured out. Nope. When he reached for the chalk I moved
it a little with my Shadow hands. He hid his surprise best he
could, but the third time the chalk moved he freaked. His tiny
brain just wasn’t up to the challenge.

A guy hit on me once, put his hand up my dress.
That was a seriously bad mistake. My Shadow hands squeezed his
balls, just a little. What a pitiful howl he made. Oh my, how
sad.

And then there was the marvelous miracle. The
nice priest was raising the Eucharist in front of the sheep. Yeah I
know, I know, I’m supposed to call them a flock of lambs but they
looked like sheep to me. Anyway, he raised the little white wafer
high above his head and it slipped out of his fingers and just kept
right on going.

Oh my, the herd went crazy. There were gasps and
grunts, and shouts and screams. It stayed up there a few seconds,
and then I let it drop. The priest must not have been much of a
baseball player. He missed the catch.

The next day the talking heads were all over it,
throwing around words like mass hysteria and group hypnosis. Nobody
suspected it was just a skinny, 15-year year old brat, having a
little fun.

Now I’m off to meet some people who also have
the Gift. I’ll be nice, learn what I can, and then decide what to
do. Who knows, maybe they’ll be the family I lost when I was four
and my mother ran sobbing out the door and into in her car. I
watched out the window a long time in my first foster home. She
never came back.

Never knew my dad but he left a pile of
money. Better than nothing.

CHAPTER 2

Skinny Santa wasn’t kidding, they don’t need my
money. They live down millionaire row in a mansion by the sea. A
frumpy woman came to the door, maybe late 20’s. Thick glasses and
buck teeth, if she ever smiled. She wants me dead. I followed her
down a long hallway into a room with Skinny Santa, another man, and
a woman sitting around a table with a pile of colorful crystals in
the center.

“You’ve already met Molly. This is Johnny and
Linda. Please call me Greg.”

Johnny has a nice smile. He voted me to live.
Linda doesn’t have a nice smile, and for sure voted me to die.
Somewhere in her 40’s I suppose. Messy hair, a small scar on her
left cheek, and awful lipstick. It’s too bright and doesn’t go with
her skin color. So the two guys voted life, and Bucky and Scar Face
voted death. Can’t blame them. There is no way they can compete
with a cute, sexy, little girl like me.

“Come on over and sit next to me.” I felt the
cold eyes of the women as I went by.

“Linda and Molly are afraid you’re an angry,
self-centered brat, not capable of caring for anyone but yourself.
Someone like that with the Gift is very dangerous.”

Ok, I’ll go with honesty. “They’re right. I had
to take care of myself ever since my mother left when I was four,
and that was ten lousy foster homes ago. Sure I blew them and they
deserved to get blown. Well, not all. A Buddhist couple from Tibet
gave me my best foster home, but a bunch of God fearing Christians
overflowing with love and kindness killed that one. I could have
made it in another, but the handsome guy’s wife didn’t want to
share. So here I am, looking at another bunch of strangers. Linda
and Molly don’t like me and I don’t much like them. I’ll be
friendly as long as you’re friendly.”

That’s pretty good coming from an angry,
self-centered brat. The women softened a little.

“A good start,” Santa said, smiling.

Not for Bucky. She went back hard. “Why did you
kill your mother?”

“Number one, she was my foster mother not my
real mom. Number two, if I did kill her why would I tell you?”

“Because being honest with us is the only way
you’ll stay alive.”

I don’t take threats well.

“Ok!
Ok!
Enough! If you women are going
to stay hard against me no matter what I do give me your best shot!
Give me your best shot right now!
Right now!!”

Linda and Molly stood up, and I got ready to
fight for my life. I never had to fight anybody with Shadow hands
before so I don’t know how this is going to turn out. But they
didn’t attack. They smiled, came over and gave me big hugs. What
the Hell?!

“That’s what we like, spirit.”

Molly doesn’t have buck teeth.

“Why the death threat and now a warm
welcome?”

“It’s a bonding ritual developed by Johnny, our
psychologist,” Skinny Santa said. “The sudden shift from threat of
death to warm acceptance is very powerful. You’re now part of our
group in a way that would ordinarily take months. Pick up a crystal
with a Shadow hand.”

No problem. I picked up a beautiful blue crystal
from the middle of the table and lifted it a foot in the air.
Wonder if they’ll be impressed? Not bloody likely. A green crystal
near Santa lifted in the air and gently tapped mine. It made a
tiny, tinkling sound which brought back memories of mommy tucking
me into my warm bed. The bells and fairies of fairyland often came
to sing me asleep. I was so loved and safe.