Authors: David Lubar
B005N8ZFUO EBOK (11 page)
W
e didn’t go far.
e didn’t go far.
The small room at the end of the hall past the principal’s office was amazingly ordinary. It looked like it might have been a storage area at one time. A single chair in the middle of the floor faced a pull-down movie screen on the left wall. The window opposite the door was covered with a heavy shade. Behind the chair, set slightly to one side, was a table holding a slide projector.
“Have a seat,” Principal Davis said.
I sat. He reached under the arm of the chair and fastened a leather strap around my wrist. A wire ran from the strap. I could feel bare metal pressing against my skin.
“Now, Martin, we’re going to play a little game. I’m going to show you a picture, and you are going to say something nice.”
“Okeydokey,” I said, speaking quickly so my words wouldn’t betray the tremble that was spreading through my body.
What was going on here?
What was going on here?
He walked behind me. I heard a click and the lights went off. Just as my eyes got used to the darkness, he flashed a slide on the screen. I blinked a couple of times, then focused on the picture. It was a fat kid. I guess Principal Davis expected me to say something rotten. “Nice kid,” I said. “I’ll bet he listens to his mother and cleans off his plate at every meal.”
There was no comment from behind me. Click-swish. The slide
changed. A baby. “Cute,” I said. Click-swish. An old man. “Looks like a nice guy. Probably somebody’s grandfather.” Click-swish. A teacher standing in front of a blackboard. “Nice posture,” I said. “And excellent handwriting.”
changed. A baby. “Cute,” I said. Click-swish. An old man. “Looks like a nice guy. Probably somebody’s grandfather.” Click-swish. A teacher standing in front of a blackboard. “Nice posture,” I said. “And excellent handwriting.”
After a couple dozen slides, curiosity won out over fear. I had to find out what would happen if I said the wrong thing. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try it once. I’d noticed that every fourth or fifth slide looked like a teacher. The next time one came up, I said, “Wow. What a dork.”
A jolt shot through my arm. I tried to jerk away, but the strap held my arm down. It only lasted for an instant. Afterward, I realized the shock hadn’t really hurt. Even so, I didn’t like the way it felt at all.
Behind me, Principal Davis remained silent. He changed the slide. For the rest of the hour, I made sure not to say anything bad.
“Well,” the principal said when he unstrapped me. “I believe we’ve made some progress.”
“That would be a first for you, wouldn’t it?” I asked. As the words left my mouth, I braced for another shock. Then I realized the strap was off.
Principal Davis glared at me, but then shifted back to that dangerous smile. “I’ll see you here tomorrow,” he said.
I headed for the door. And got another shock.
“By the way,” Principal Davis said, “it’s less than a month since you arrived, but your teachers didn’t see any point in waiting, so we held your review this afternoon. It didn’t take long.”
“What?” I spun back toward him.
“Needless to say, you didn’t pass.”
“But …” As the memories of the day flashed through my mind, I realized there was nothing I could say. I’d run wild, and now they were getting me back. Still, it wasn’t fair that they’d had the review early. “You didn’t give me a chance to tell my side …”
“Surely you don’t have any illusions about your behavior,” he said. “You couldn’t possibly believe you would ever be fit for a normal classroom.” He turned away from me and started fiddling with the slide projector.
I went back to the third floor. I guess my legs were weak from an
hour of tension. I stumbled twice on the steps. Torchie and Cheater left the room when I came in. Fine. I didn’t need them.
hour of tension. I stumbled twice on the steps. Torchie and Cheater left the room when I came in. Fine. I didn’t need them.
I skipped dinner. There was no way I was going to sit there with everyone staring at me, wondering what had happened. I’m sure the whole school knew I’d been taken away by Principal Davis.
That night, I dreamed I was being dragged to the electric chair. I couldn’t remember who I murdered.
The next day, I had lunch with Trash again. After class, I was escorted back to the chair. This time, I didn’t get zapped. Principal Davis seemed disappointed.
The day after that, I tried to start a conversation with Trash at lunch. “So, where are you from?” I asked him. This was just wonderful. Here I was trying to get to know one of the school’s biggest losers. What was I going to do next? Shine Mr. Langhorn’s shoes? Take Ms. Crenshaw out for dinner and dancing? Write love poems to Miss Nomad? Maybe volunteer to help clean up the tables after lunch?
I was quickly spiraling down to the bottom of the fish tank we called Edgeview, hovering right above the gravel where all the losers waited, living in the midst of rotting food and waste products. Anyone who’s ever taken a good look at a fish tank knows that the bottom is a pretty crappy place.
“West Hanover,” Trash said, naming a small town about ten miles from Edgeview.
“I’m from Spencer,” I told him. Great. I was having an actual conversation with someone who threw silverware for fun and tore up magazines in his spare time. Maybe he could teach me how to smash plates.
Trash didn’t respond. I guess that was about as much conversation as he wanted. I wondered whether I should try again. But something happened before I had a chance to decide. As Trash reached for his fork, it flew from his tray.
He didn’t throw it. He didn’t smack it or flip it into the air. I swear he didn’t touch it.
The fork moved by itself.
T
rash’s fork shot a foot in the air, then fell and hit the edge of the table. It bounced from the table and clattered to the floor. As far as I could tell, nobody paid attention to the slight tinkle the cheap piece of metal made. They were used to Trash throwing stuff.
rash’s fork shot a foot in the air, then fell and hit the edge of the table. It bounced from the table and clattered to the floor. As far as I could tell, nobody paid attention to the slight tinkle the cheap piece of metal made. They were used to Trash throwing stuff.
But he hadn’t thrown it. For a stunned moment, I felt like a little kid watching his first magic show. A rush of excitement hit me with the force of an ocean wave. “Telekinesis!” I shouted, leaping from my chair. I couldn’t believe that I’d missed the obvious explanation for so long.
Trash was telekinetic
. He could move stuff with his mind. He might not have any control over what he was doing, but he definitely had the power.
Trash was telekinetic
. He could move stuff with his mind. He might not have any control over what he was doing, but he definitely had the power.
“What’d you say?” he asked.
“I said that …” I stopped as images flooded back, angry faces of former friends, reminding me what had happened when I’d told Torchie, Cheater, and Flinch about their powers. Not only had they refused to believe me—they’d turned against me. Trash wasn’t my friend, he was just someone I’d shared a table with for three days. But I didn’t want another enemy. I didn’t want to cut myself off from this last human contact. This was pathetic. I couldn’t believe how low I was sinking.
“What?” he asked again.
“Nothing.” I sat back down and finished my lunch. As the cafeteria cleared, I stayed in my seat and tried to make sense of everything I’d seen. My discovery of Trash’s telekinesis meant there were four kids at
Edgeview with psychic powers. Torchie, Flinch, Cheater, and Trash. Were there others? Lucky was always finding things. Was he lucky, or was something more going on?
Edgeview with psychic powers. Torchie, Flinch, Cheater, and Trash. Were there others? Lucky was always finding things. Was he lucky, or was something more going on?
I didn’t know. But I needed to find out. I grabbed a notebook and started listing all the kids I could think of who might have psychic powers. I decided that I’d write down absolutely anything I’d seen that was strange or unusual. I figured if I kept notes, I might discover some patterns. None of this would have been necessary if Cheater had cooperated.
“One experiment,” I muttered, slamming my fist on the table. “One stupid experiment.” That’s all I needed. If they’d just agreed to that, everything would have been fine.
“What’s up, Martin?”
The voice caught me by surprise. I shut the notebook and looked up at Mr. Briggs.
“What do you care? I heard you all spent a whole ten seconds deciding my fate at your last meeting.”
“I would have liked to take more time. But I don’t think the results would have been any different.” He shook his head and laughed. “I’ll say this. You’ve certainly made an impression at Edgeview.”
“You think this is funny?”
“Sorry. No. I didn’t mean to laugh. Look, we’re trying to do what’s best for you. Honest.” Mr. Briggs walked to the other side of the table, pulled out a chair, turned it around backward, and plopped down. The knight in armor on his Rutgers T-shirt peered over the back of the chair. I’d have been happy to run him through with a lance if I’d had one.
“Did I just hear you say my favorite word?”
I stared at him. I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. Obviously, he wanted to change to subject. He didn’t have the guts to talk about my review. Face-to-face, they were all cowards. Honest.
“Experiment,” he said.
I didn’t answer.
“Well, maybe I heard wrong.” He stood up. “If you do happen to run an
experiment, let me know how it goes. I’d be interested in your findings.”
experiment, let me know how it goes. I’d be interested in your findings.”
More than you’d believe
, I thought as I watched him leave.
, I thought as I watched him leave.
When he reached the hallway, he turned back and said, “Better get going or you’ll be late for class. Then you’ll be in big trouble.” He smiled when he said that. I guess he smiled because I had his class next. I didn’t return the smile. He was just making a pathetic attempt to get on my good side after stabbing me in the back.
I waited for him to get far enough ahead so he wouldn’t think I was following him, then gathered my books and headed to class. As I found a spot on the carpet, Mr. Briggs went to the blackboard and said, “I want to put aside our lesson and talk about something else. How many of you know how to design and run an experiment?”
One or two kids raised their hands. Everyone else just sat there. The kids with their hands up looked around, then lowered their hands. Mr. Briggs nodded. “That’s what I thought. The key to science is knowing how to design and carry out an experiment. Without that, everything else you’re learning is useless. Of course, I’m sure some of you feel that it’s all useless anyhow.”
That got a laugh from most of the kids.
Mr. Briggs looked right at me. “Anyone want to suggest an experiment? How about you, Martin?”
I shook my head.
“Come on, Martin,” he said. “Give it a try.”
“No.”
He shrugged. “Somebody else? Give me some ideas. What shall we investigate?”
“Nuclear bombs,” Flinch shouted from the back of the room.
“Maybe next year,” Mr. Briggs said after the class had stopped laughing. “Right now, we’re fresh out of uranium.”
Another suggestion came from behind me. This one was quieter, spoken rather than shouted, but it might as well have blared through the speakers of the world’s loudest rock band as far I was concerned.
“How about mind reading?” the voice asked.
I
stared at Cheater, who’d just made the suggestion. For an instant, I felt hope.
Maybe he believed
… . Now that he’d had time to think about it, he must have realized I was right.
stared at Cheater, who’d just made the suggestion. For an instant, I felt hope.
Maybe he believed
… . Now that he’d had time to think about it, he must have realized I was right.
Cheater smirked at me and my hopes vanished. I realized this was his own private joke. I didn’t think he was very funny. At least there was no way Mr. Briggs would go for something like that. A science teacher wouldn’t mess around with psychic stuff.
“Excellent suggestion, Dennis,” Mr. Briggs said. He strolled across the room to give Cheater a pat on the head, then returned to the board and wrote MIND READING in big letters.
Whatever Cheater’s motives, this was perfect. If the whole class proved I was right, Cheater couldn’t blame me.
“That’s not science,” Lucky said. “Let’s pick something else.”
“Anything can be investigated scientifically,” Mr. Briggs told him. He turned back to the class. “I want each of you to try to come up with an experiment that we could use to test for mind reading.”
“Is this homework?” Torchie asked.
Mr. Briggs nodded. “Sure. Let’s say that’s your assignment. Take a few days. We’ll wait until Monday to see what everyone comes up with. To help you out, I’ll tell you about some famous experiments that scientists have carried out in the past.”
He spent the rest of the period talking about Newton, Galileo, and
other scientists. But I had a hard time paying attention. I was thinking about what would happen when the class started running the experiments.
other scientists. But I had a hard time paying attention. I was thinking about what would happen when the class started running the experiments.
On the way out, I caught up with Cheater and asked, “What did you do that for?”
“Just to show you how wrong you are,” he said.
“I’m not wrong. You’ll see. Why can’t you accept the truth? What are you scared of?”
“I’m not scared of anything,” he said. But there was something in his eyes that told me he was lying. Before I could say anything else, he rushed away.
I continued my search for other kids with special powers. I saw a lot of strange stuff during the rest of the day, though most of it was just bad behavior.
But I did see a couple of things worth writing down. Lucky found two pencils, three dimes, and a candy bar—all in a single afternoon. That’s just when I was watching. Who knows what else he found? He never acted surprised. It seemed like he just knew where stuff was.
By the end of the day, I had a list of seven more kids who might have some kind of psychic powers. By Friday, the list had grown to over two dozen. I had plenty of time to study my notes on Friday evening—Torchie had skipped into town with his friends. He hadn’t said a word when he’d left the room.
I couldn’t understand them. If someone told me I had a special ability, I’d be thrilled. It would be great to know what people were thinking, or to know what was going to happen. It would be extremely cool to move things with my mind or see the future. But there was no point daydreaming about that. I didn’t have any special talents, except maybe the power to get my teachers so angry they’d strap me to a chair and shock me or slam my head against a wall. I’m sure Dad would have approved of that form of education. At least I’d finished my week of detention without further pain.
I was still awake when Torchie came back from town. I had to do
something. I couldn’t keep living like this. “You guys going to stay mad at me forever?” I asked.
something. I couldn’t keep living like this. “You guys going to stay mad at me forever?” I asked.
He sat down and looked at the magazines on his desk. Then he glanced out the window. His eyes flickered in my direction once or twice, but quickly bounced away. I realized it might be as rough for him as it was for me. He was so eager to be friends with the whole world, he must hate having to be enemies with anyone. Especially someone he had to share a room with. “We aren’t mad,” he finally mumbled.
“Yeah, you are.”
Torchie shrugged and studied his picture of Mars. “Well, maybe a little.”
“Look, don’t expect me to start begging.”
He stared down at his sneakers. “Maybe if you knocked off all that crazy stuff about mind reading—”
“It’s not crazy, it’s …” I stopped. Did I want to be right, or did I want to have friends? It didn’t seem fair that I had to choose, but that’s the way it had worked out. I couldn’t look somewhere else for friends. I was stuck at Edgeview. Stuck here for good now, thanks to Mr. Briggs and the other teachers. Was it really that important to prove I was right? “Can we just forget the whole thing?” I asked. I wouldn’t say another word—until the experiment proved I was right.
Torchie looked at me out of the sides of his eyes. “That would be great.”
I hadn’t realized how tense I’d been until then. Ever since they’d gotten angry, I’d been walking around like a stretched-out rubber band. Now I could feel my whole body relax. “I’m really sorry about what I said to you.”
“That’s okay. I’m not mad. Honest.”
I felt I had to do something special. I went to my desk and fished around in the bottom drawer until I found what I was looking for. “Here, I want you to have this.”
I held out my peace offering, hoping it would make Torchie happy.
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