Edgewood Series: Books 1 - 3 (74 page)

“Your face!” I said. “I forgot to tell you that you look really beautiful.”

Nadia put a hand to her cheek and smiled, and that’s all I saw before she was jerked from my sight. Nadia’s mother filled the window, her anger spilling out. “You!” she yelled, pointing a finger. “I thought I told you to stay away.”

“We were just talking, ma’am,” I said.

“Sneaking around so I couldn’t see you.” She hit the screen with the flat of her hand and it rattled in the frame. “I’m giving you to the count of five to get off my property, you hear me?” She was shrieking now, and the world suddenly got quiet. Even the neighbor kids playing in the pool next door seemed to have stopped to listen. “And if I see you here again I’m calling the cops and having you arrested.”

“Mom!” I heard Nadia’s voice behind her. “Don’t talk to him like that.”

“I’ll talk to him any way I like!” she said. “This is my house, young lady. And don’t you forget it.” She looked back down at me, and said, “What are you, brain-damaged? I said to go, now go.”

“Yes, ma’am, but could you tell Nadia something for me?”

“No, I will not.”

“Tell her—” Now I was the one raising my voice—yelling actually—for Nadia’s benefit, “—that Jameson got it right this time.”

Russ

Nadia’s mother never did count to five, but after she’d slammed the window shut, I went anyway. There was no point in staying, especially after she’d threatened to have me arrested. I left with mixed feelings, happy to have connected with Nadia, but sick to know how she was being treated. If I could have switched places with her, I would have. Her mother had to be mentally ill. No normal person acted like that. When I got to the street I glanced up at the window one last time, but the blinds were down again so there was nothing to see. Somewhere in that typical suburban house a teenage girl was being held prisoner, but you’d never know it from the outside. If Mallory was right, and this was considered abuse, it would be hard to prove.

I didn’t feel like going straight home, so I wandered around town after that, taking my old insomnia route through the industrial park, past the strip mall, and ending up at the abandoned train station on the outskirts of town. The field adjacent to the tracks looked unremarkable. I remembered watching the light particles—the lux spiral—falling from the sky into a giant luminous swirl on the ground, and recalled how it felt to walk to the center and be surrounded by glowing, glittering fragments. Now, months later, there was no sign that anything like that had happened. If it weren’t for the fact that I could sense electricity in the walls, shoot lightning bolts out of my palms, and heal people, even I might think I’d imagined it. I kicked at a few pebbles before walking around the boarded up building. This was where my sister Carly and her boyfriend, David Hofstetter, used to meet sixteen years ago to make out and smoke pot. Now it looked ready for the wrecking ball.

After that there wasn’t much more to see. It was nearly dinnertime when I got back to my house. Carly’s car was in the driveway and Frank was sitting on the front porch, a ball and glove at his feet. When he saw me he bounded to his feet and yelled through the door. “He’s here, Grandma! Russ is back!”

That was the first sign something was up. The crepe paper and balloons in the kitchen clued me in even more. Turned out we were belatedly celebrating my birthday with a family dinner, but no one had bothered to tell me.

“I thought it would be a nice surprise,” my mom said when we were all finally seated around the table. My dad had grilled steaks, while Mom had prepared a salad and rolls. A decorated cake and several wrapped presents sat waiting on the kitchen counter.

“Yeah, and then you ruined it by disappearing,” Frank grumbled. “I thought we could play catch while Grandpa was grilling. I wanted to call you, but Mom wouldn’t let me.”

“My birthday was more than a week ago,” I pointed out. “And I didn’t disappear. I had no idea you were doing this.”

“Yes, I’m well aware that your birthday was more than a week ago.” Mom passed the salt to my dad. “I was there for your first one, if you recall. But you were in Miami so we didn’t get a chance to celebrate it.”

“Okay, well thanks.”

The meal was almost ruined when Carly mentioned that she’d lost her job earlier that week. This was a fairly common occurrence for her, but it still upset my mother. “What are you going to do?” Mom asked, worried.

Carly speared a chunk of steak and dipped it into sauce. “What I always do. I’ll get another job. Hopefully a better one. That one sucked. I was just about ready to quit when they eliminated my position. How lucky was that?” She laughed and shook her head. “They saved me the trouble of giving two weeks’ notice.”

My mother’s lips pressed together the way they did when she was about to lay it all out there. “Carly, aren’t you getting a little old to be flitting from job to job? I mean—”

My dad held out his hand to make Mom stop. “I’m quite sure,” he said firmly, “that Carly will be just fine. She’s a big girl and has been supporting herself and Frank for a long time. Let’s just have a nice dinner, okay? Russ’s birthday, remember?”

My mom closed her mouth, but it was clear to me that she still had a lot to say. My dad had been slipping Carly money since Frank was born, and we all knew it. But talking about it wasn’t going to change things.

It was after I’d opened the presents (a lot of gift cards, clothes from Mom, and a stack of comic books from Frank) and we’d eaten cake that the doorbell rang. My mother, who was clearing plates from the table said, “Russ, why don’t you get that?” She and Dad exchanged a sly look that told me they were in on something. I raised my eyebrows questioningly at Carly who shrugged. Whatever was going on, she wasn’t part of it.

My dad diplomatically herded Frank up to my room to play games. Frank bounded up the stairs eager to decimate his grandfather. This was the one area where Frank could come out ahead against my dad. He was so happy to have one-on-one time that he didn’t even seem to realize that he was being banished upstairs to get him out of the way.

One minute later, Mallory, her mother, Jameson and his dad stood in my front entryway as if they'd been invited, which I guess they were. Mallory threw her arms around me and then wished me a happy birthday. "What's going on?" I asked her.

"Haven’t a clue," she whispered. "My mom just said we had to come over to your house." All four parents exchanged pleasantries about the weather as if this were a normal social occasion. My mom directed everyone to sit in the living room and when I asked what was up, she answered with a mysterious, "Just wait. You'll see."

And then it hit me. This was the meeting Nadia had mentioned, the one she wouldn't be able to attend. Something about this said Praetorian Guard to me. Carly had a stricken look on her face, making me think she'd figured out the same thing. She opened her mouth and I knew she was just about to question my mom when the doorbell rang again. "Carly?" Mom said. "Would you lend a hand and get that?"

I could tell Carly's heart wasn't in it, but she did as asked, and when she returned she was accompanied by two men I’d never seen before. Following in their wake was Rosie, everyone's favorite from the local diner. The men in their dark pants, white dress shirts, and diagonal-striped ties were a little overdressed for a teenager’s birthday party, but they were perfectly attired for a Praetorian Guard convention. One of them held onto the handle of a large leather case almost as big as a card table. I held my breath and looked at Carly, whose stony expression told me she was clearly thinking the same thing. “Happy birthday, Russ!” Rosie said with a wide smile. “Sixteen, huh? What a great age. Enjoy it, the years go by fast.”

“Thanks,” I said, looking at the two men expectantly. Everyone in the room was quiet until Jameson stood up and extended his hand. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

“Will Patterson,” said the first man, the younger of the two. “Mitch Gilbert,” said the other one. Each one had the good looks of a film actor, but there was nothing distinctive about either of them. If they left the room and I had to describe them I’d have to say one was a white guy and the other one was African American. They were both clean-cut, of average height and build. And that would be it. Nothing stood out.

Jameson was a pro at this, giving his name and then introducing his father. Everybody except Carly joined in the round of introductions and then my mother, unable to contain herself any longer, blurted out, “This is a big surprise for all of you kids. Wait until you hear. You’re going to be so excited.” She gestured for Rosie to sit down, and then joined her on the couch. “Okay guys, take it away.”

Mitch and Will stood across from the rest of us and set to work as if they’d done this dozens of times. The black leather case held a collapsible stand and a screen almost as big as our television. When everything was in place, the two men stood on either side of the screen with self-satisfied smiles on their faces. Their expressions reminded me of the guys who sell the specialty knives in the tent at the State Fair—the knives that can slice through anything. A person could get so caught up in the hype that they’d wind up buying a knife like that and be all the way home before they realized they’d probably never have a need to slice through tin cans.

“First of all,” Mitch said, “we want to thank all of you for gathering here today. We appreciate your time and attention.”

“And happy birthday to Russ, too,” Will added with a nod of his head.

“Yes, happy birthday, Russ! Turning sixteen, that’s awesome. I predict you’re going to have a memorable year,” Mitch said, grinning broadly in my direction. “Now to get down to business. I’d like to start by saying we represent the National High School Student Initiative, one of the most prestigious organizations in the United States. We’ve been in existence for decades honoring top students and giving them very special opportunities, the kind few young people ever get to experience. If you’d bear with us for a few minutes, we’d like to show you a short video.”

Will leaned over and adjusted something on a remote and the room filled with the sounds of a choir singing God Bless America. A second later, the screen displayed an American flag. From there, the video launched into the history of the NHSSI, followed by explanations of the service projects and internships they’d sponsored as well as scholarships they’d funded. We were told that high school students associated with the organization went on to be awarded full-ride scholarships to prominent schools. Names like Harvard and Princeton were mixed in with names of universities located overseas. Former high school students who had benefitted from the organization included senators, esteemed scientists, Supreme Court Justices, famed mathematicians,
New York Times
bestselling authors, and one Pulitzer Prize Winner.

Various scenes of kids who appeared to be about our age flashed on the screen. All of them were good-looking and self-assured. No lack of confidence here. According to this clip, these teenagers helped to engineer and install water purification systems in Guatemala, tutored disadvantaged kids in Chicago, and assisted researchers doing important work in top secret medical facilities. They learned to program software for NASA, and joined expeditions working to recover sunken ships. In short, there was nothing these kids couldn’t do.

Across the room, my mother leaned forward in her seat, eyes shining with excitement. In contrast, Carly, leaning back with crossed arms, couldn’t have looked less enthused. The look on her face was like she’d just bitten into something nasty.

When the video was over, Mitch switched off the power and turned to face us. “What does this have to do with the three of you?” he asked, flashing a cheesy grin. “Well, I’ll tell you. The kids you saw in the video, the ones who were chosen to take part in these incredible opportunities and then went on to be awarded full-ride scholarships? Soon, the three of you will be joining their ranks.”

I could tell from everybody’s stunned expressions that Mom was the only one who knew this was coming. She leaned forward and beamed at the other parents. “Can you believe it? Aren’t you proud of our kids?”

Mitch continued. “Yes, I’m talking about you, Mallory, Russ, and Jameson. The NHSSI has been very impressed with your test scores, grades, and performance at the Miami academic decathlon. We only select students who test well enough to be considered geniuses, and the three of you are no exception. I extend my personal congratulations to all of you. Being chosen is a great honor and believe me when I say it’s an honor for me to give you this good news. I’m proud to be able to say I know you.”

There was a moment of silence before Mallory said, “What does this mean for us, exactly?”

Mitch rubbed his hands together. "I'm so glad you asked, Mallory! As a member of our organization, you'll be invited to participate in exciting projects geared for your specific talents and strengths. Besides the wonderful experiences you’ll have, you'll also gain valuable contacts. Your mentors will be instrumental in writing recommendations for your college applications and the scholarships you'll be receiving."

"That's it?" Jameson said. “We don’t get a pony or anything?”

Will didn't seem to catch Jameson's sarcasm. "I like to think of it as a chain of success, Jameson. People often think that those who achieve great things get there through hard work and talent, but that's not entirely true. Connections are essential for becoming successful, and we're giving you a chance to connect in a big way."

Mitch said, “We’re excited to tell you, Russ, Mallory, and Jameson, that the three of you have been chosen to spend five days in Washington D.C. as student ambassadors. The program we have set up is very much like the internships that university students participate in. You’ll have access to areas not open to the public and get a real feel for how our federal government is run. I think you’ll find this to be the opportunity of a lifetime.”

“One of the functions you’ll be attending will be the Presidential Black Tie Bash,” Will said. His wide smile easily matched Mitch’s. They were the perfect salesmen to give this pitch.