Authors: David Lubar
B005N8ZFUO EBOK (14 page)
T
he truth is, I’d been thinking about this a lot. And had plenty of ideas. But how could I tell them what to do when I didn’t even know what it was like to have special powers? That would be like a cat trying to teach a dog to bark. Besides, Cheater and Flinch were both a lot smarter than I was. One of them should be in charge.
he truth is, I’d been thinking about this a lot. And had plenty of ideas. But how could I tell them what to do when I didn’t even know what it was like to have special powers? That would be like a cat trying to teach a dog to bark. Besides, Cheater and Flinch were both a lot smarter than I was. One of them should be in charge.
“Come on,” Flinch said. “You’ve got to have some ideas.”
I shook my head.
“Please, Martin,” Torchie said.
Why was it so hard to say no to him? “Okay. I guess I have a couple of ideas.” Maybe if I helped Torchie a little, someone else would take over and I could step aside. “We better start with you.”
“How come?” he asked.
“Well, if Cheater reads a mind or Flinch sees what’s about to happen, it’s no big deal. Lucky isn’t doing any harm to anyone. Trash could hurt someone, I guess. But Trash mostly throws small stuff. Right?”
“Right,” Torchie said.
“But you can burn this place to the ground,” I told him. “So I figure you need control more than anyone.”
Torchie shrugged. “I guess.”
“So we’re not going to do anything for the rest of us?” Cheater asked.
“Sure,” I said. “We’ll work with everyone. But your problem isn’t
that hard. Someone will come up with something. I’d bet there’s an easy solution.”
that hard. Someone will come up with something. I’d bet there’s an easy solution.”
“No, there isn’t,” Cheater said. “If there was, I’d have figured …” He paused and a smile spread across his face. “I get it.”
Obviously, Cheater had plucked the idea as it ran through my mind. It was kind of spooky knowing my thoughts could end up inside his head. There were things in my mind I’d never want anyone to know. But he still didn’t know it had come from me.
“Get what?” Flinch asked, looking in my direction.
“Yeah, Martin,” Torchie said. “Tell us.”
“It’s no great idea or anything. Now that Cheater realizes he might be tapping into other people’s thoughts, all he has to do for tests is to use different words,” I explained. “Suppose he’s taking a history test, and the answer he wants to write is:
General Sherman led his troops on
a
March through Georgia.
The trick is to change it around a bit. He can write:
Under his command
,
General Sherman’s troops marched through Georgia,
or something like that. Just so he doesn’t use exactly the same words as the kids around him.” I was sure that would work. Cheater knew so much that he wouldn’t have any trouble finding different ways to write test answers.
General Sherman led his troops on
a
March through Georgia.
The trick is to change it around a bit. He can write:
Under his command
,
General Sherman’s troops marched through Georgia,
or something like that. Just so he doesn’t use exactly the same words as the kids around him.” I was sure that would work. Cheater knew so much that he wouldn’t have any trouble finding different ways to write test answers.
“Yeah,” Flinch said. “That’s a great idea. I wish you had some easy answers for me.”
I’d been thinking about that, too. But I’d already gotten enough attention. I kept silent.
“Well, someone in this room has an answer,” Cheater said.
It looked like there weren’t going to be any secrets with this group. I figured I might as well tell Flinch my idea. “I have an answer, but it’ll take some work.” I leaped across the room and threw a punch at Flinch’s face.
He ducked before I even had my fist halfway out. My hand shot through the air where his head had been. I had to put out my other hand to keep from smacking face-first into the wall.
“Hey, what was that for?” Flinch shouted.
“Practice,” I told him. “You need to learn to hold back a bit. Try not to jump so soon this time.”
“Good thinking,” Flinch said. “Come on, let’s try it again.”
I threw another punch. Flinch waited too long. Before I could stop myself, my fist connected with his jaw. A sharp jolt shot through my wrist.
“Oh man,” I said as he went down. “Are you okay?”
Flinch shook his head hard, then staggered back to his feet. “Yeah.” He rubbed his jaw. “I guess sooner would have been better.”
“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” My whole hand was starting to ache.
“Not really,” Flinch said. “It’s just that I’ve never been punched in the face before. I can’t say that I like it.”
“Never?” I asked.
“Never,” he said. “I always managed to get out of the way. Come on. Let’s try it again.”
“You sure?”
He nodded.
I threw another punch. Flinch dodged too soon, but not as soon as he usually did.
“Better,” I said.
“Can I hit him next?” Cheater asked. He swung his hand in a karate chop.
“I thought you didn’t know any of that stuff,” I said.
“I don’t,” Cheater said, “but it looks like fun.”
Flinch glared at Cheater.
“Hang on,” I said. “Everyone will get plenty of time punching Flinch. Right now, let’s work with Torchie. Okay?”
They nodded.
“We need something that can put out fires,” I said.
“No problem.” Lucky dashed out of the room. I figured he was going to dig through the loot in his closet. Sure enough, when he came back he handed me a small blue plastic squirt gun. It was the old-fashioned kind with a squeeze trigger—not the kind that gets pumped up. A drop
of water hanging off the plug in the back showed me he’d just filled the gun.
of water hanging off the plug in the back showed me he’d just filled the gun.
“Now what?” Torchie asked.
I tossed the water pistol to Flinch. Then I tore a piece of paper from my notebook and passed it to Torchie. “See if you can start a fire. Try to pay attention to anything happening in your mind. Once you figure out how you do it, then maybe you can get some control.” I looked over at Flinch. “Your job is to make sure he doesn’t get burned.”
“Got it.” Flinch nodded.
We all watched the piece of paper in Torchie’s hand.
Suddenly, Flinch said, “Look out!” and squirted the paper.
“Hey!” Torchie shouted. “Why’d you do that?” As he spoke, a bit of steam rose from the damp paper.
“This isn’t going to work,” I said to Flinch. “You’re reacting before it happens. Let someone else do it.”
“But I could use this for practice,” Flinch said. “It beats getting punched in the face. I can try to wait until the flame really starts.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t beat getting burned fingers,” Torchie said. “If you wait too long, I’ll get hurt.”
“You won’t get burned,” Flinch told him.
“You’re right, I won’t,” Torchie said. “Because you aren’t going to be the one with the squirt gun.”
“Hold it,” I shouted. “Stop arguing. Cheater, you take the water pistol. Everyone else, watch the paper and see if you notice anything. We won’t get anything done if everyone is fighting.”
“Yes, Dad,” Flinch joked.
Oh man. He was right. I’d sounded like a parent shouting at a couple of kids who were horsing around in the back seat of a car. That’s the last thing I wanted. I kept my mouth shut and concentrated on watching the paper in Torchie’s hand.
Torchie managed to start a couple more fires, but he didn’t seem to have any idea how he was doing it. “Enough,” he said after half an hour. He slumped back in his chair.
“You know, I’ll bet there are lots of people out there with special powers,” Flinch said.
“Maybe,” I said, “but don’t go wild and start thinking every coincidence is an example of psychic powers. It has to be rare, or we’d know a lot more about it.” I thought about the two dozen names on my list. One by one, I’d crossed off everyone except Lucky.
“I’m sure my grandfather was psychic,” Torchie said.
Flinch laughed. “Yeah. Right. What did he do, carry a bucket of water whenever he knew you were coming?”
“No, really,” Torchie said. “He had a special talent. Anytime I got hurt, he seemed to know where—even if I didn’t tell him about it. If I got a shot, he patted me on the shoulder. If I had a sunburn, he slapped me on the back. He wasn’t trying to hurt me. He just had a knack for finding my sore spots.”
Suddenly, everyone could think of examples of friends or relatives who might have had psychic powers. I let them talk for a while, but then got back to work trying to control our group’s powers.
As for Lucky, that seemed simple enough. “Just don’t pick up stuff like wallets and jewelry,” I said. “Then you won’t be accused of stealing.”
“Yeah, that’ll work,” he said, but something in his voice worried me. Well, unless he wanted to tell me more, there was nothing ! could do.
Meanwhile, there was plenty to keep me busy. I made up some tests so Cheater could practice rephrasing his answers while we all sat around him.
Every once in a while, no matter what we were doing, I threw a punch at Flinch. Cheater was right—it was fun.
And then there was Trash. Trash was amazing.
H
is real name was Eddie, but we were all used to calling him Trash. He didn’t seem to mind. Trash had said he couldn’t stop stuff from flying around. “Don’t try to stop it,” I told him. “Try to do it.”
is real name was Eddie, but we were all used to calling him Trash. He didn’t seem to mind. Trash had said he couldn’t stop stuff from flying around. “Don’t try to stop it,” I told him. “Try to do it.”
He caught on right away. If he could intentionally use his power, he’d have a chance of controlling it. So that’s what he worked on.
I was amazed that he’d never figured out the part he’d played in smashing and crashing objects. But I guess that’s how it was. Long ago, he’d realized that things went flying when he was around. But until now, he’d never been able to accept that he was the cause. As soon as Trash started exercising his power, he began to have fewer unplanned incidents.
Everyone kept an eye out for other signs of talents. But we didn’t see anything. So, for the moment, there were five of them. I mean, there were six of us, but only five were special. They’d started calling themselves the Psi Five, which rhymes with
high
five
. Anytime they passed each other in the hall, they’d slap hands in a high five and mouth the words
Psi five.
The first time I saw them do that, I got this funny feeling in my gut, like when I was four years old and watched the kid next door unwrap a real nice birthday present. I guess they couldn’t call themselves the Psychic Six, since I didn’t count. Sometimes, they called me Coach as sort of a joke since I was helping them to train. It wasn’t like a real nickname, but I liked it.
high
five
. Anytime they passed each other in the hall, they’d slap hands in a high five and mouth the words
Psi five.
The first time I saw them do that, I got this funny feeling in my gut, like when I was four years old and watched the kid next door unwrap a real nice birthday present. I guess they couldn’t call themselves the Psychic Six, since I didn’t count. Sometimes, they called me Coach as sort of a joke since I was helping them to train. It wasn’t like a real nickname, but I liked it.
And there were lots of signs of progress.
“Look,” Cheater said one afternoon at the end of history class. He held up his test—he’d gotten an A. “You were right, Coach. I made sure to use my own words. It worked. It really did.”
“Great.” I was happy for him. He’d do fine. Though the sad part was that, in a way, it didn’t really matter. Once you got dumped at Edgeview, everyone assumed you’d never get better. We were all treated as if we were incurably sick.
“Good job,” Flinch said to Cheater. “You know what? It helps, understanding what’s going on. It’s hard work, but I’m getting better control.”
It was hard work for me as well as Flinch. I must have thrown about a thousand punches a day at him. Okay, maybe not that many. But it sure felt like it. After the first day, my shoulder hurt. I didn’t nail him in the jaw again, but I came frighteningly close a couple of times. Still, Flinch was learning to handle his reactions. He’d figured out this system where the faster he saw something happening, the longer he knew he had to wait before reacting.
Cheater liked to work with Flinch, too. Despite his protests about stereotyping, he loved to scream “Hiyaaaa!” and throw what I guess was some kind of karate chop.
Torchie was making progress, too. Even though he still hadn’t figured out exactly what made it happen, the very fact that he spent time each day trying to start fires seemed to have cut down on unintentional flames.
I, on the other hand, managed to get into more trouble than ever. I tried—I really tried to keep my mouth shut around my teachers. But I just couldn’t help it—especially when someone like Parsons got in my face and gave me a hard time. He really hated me. So did almost all the teachers.
And that explains how I was the first in our group to learn the news. Flinch could see into the future, and Cheater could read minds. Lucky could find things. But I found out what was happening the old-fashioned way. I stuck my nose where it didn’t belong.
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