Read Speak No Evil-Gifted 6 Online
Authors: Marilyn Kaye
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #School & Education
‘No, not for sure,’ Amanda admitted. ‘But we can try. I feel like this is right for us. Don’t you?’
‘Yeah.’ Then he fell silent, but Amanda didn’t mind at all, because he was looking deeply into her eyes.
The caretaker came in. ‘Out,’ he said.
They left the room, and ran right into Britney.
‘There you are!’ Britney exclaimed. ‘Nina was looking for you. And so was I. Guess what? It worked!’
Amanda looked at her blankly. ‘What worked?’
‘What you made me do at lunch. Tommy just asked me to meet him at the mall! It happened, just like you said it would.’
‘Great,’ Amanda replied.
‘It’s funny, though,’ Britney went on. ‘I still can’t remember actually talking to him in the canteen.’
‘You were nervous,’ Amanda told her.
Britney grinned. ‘I guess. But I’m not nervous now! I gotta go and meet Tommy, I’ll call you tonight and tell you what happened.’
She took off, and Ken turned to Amanda. ‘You did it, didn’t you? You took over her body and came on to Tommy.’
Amanda lowered her eyes modestly. ‘I kind of had to. She’d never do it on her own.’
Ken smiled. ‘That was nice of you.’
She loved the way he was looking at her. It occurred to her that she had a connection with him that Nina could never have. And when they lost their gifts together . . . it would link them in a way that could last forever.
P
AUL CARTER WAS DREAMING, but not about a boy or a TV. He was dreaming about animals. He dreamed about an elephant, a tiger, a monkey. And they were all him.
He was hanging from the limb of a tree and swinging his legs. He leaped from branch to branch, and he could actually feel the motion. But then bad men approached, and they were carrying guns.
So he dropped from the tree and became an elephant. With his trunk, he swept the men off the ground and flung them far, far away. And then he became a cat, a soft, fuzzy cat, curled on someone’s lap, being stroked . . . That felt really nice. And then he was a lion, running for the pure pleasure of running, happy and unafraid. Who could hurt the king of the jungle?
When he woke up on Thursday morning, something struck him. For the first time in a long, long time, he didn’t feel frightened. And he didn’t go immediately into his morning routine of watering the plant, brushing his teeth, getting dressed. He stayed in his bed and had some wide-awake dreams.
He pictured himself back at Meadowbrook Middle School, in his gifted class. Charles talked about moving things with his mind. Jenna reported on what someone else was thinking. Emily predicted something that was going to happen.
And Carter – no,
Paul
Carter – told them how he’d been a bird that morning. How he’d flown to school. How he was planning to fly to Mexico . . .
What would it be like, to actually have a story to tell? All these months, he’d listened to tales of the others’ gifts. He always felt like an outsider, like he wasn’t supposed to be there. He’d been stuck in the class only because nobody knew what else to do with him.
But now he could belong in the class. He could be part of the group. He was gifted too.
Suddenly, he wanted to test his gift. He got out of bed and considered the possibilities. The first image that came to mind was the pet he always wanted.
He could feel it, the changes in his body, but it didn’t hurt at all. And now he was a dog, a big dog. A German shepherd. He leaped back up on the bed so he could see himself in the mirror over the sink. He was beautiful! And in joy, he opened his mouth and let out a howl.
Immediately, there was a pounding on his door. ‘What’s going on in there? Open this door!’
Paul shifted back. He went to the door and opened it. An angry resident assistant stood outside.
‘Do you have a dog in here?’
Paul shook his head.
The guy looked at him suspiciously, and pushed him aside.
I could become a snake and bite him
, Paul thought. He didn’t – but it was nice knowing he could.
The resident assistant went to Paul’s wardrobe and looked inside. Then he bent down and checked under the bed. Finally he gave up, and with one last dark look at Paul, he left.
Paul suddenly realized that his face felt funny, like it was twitching or something. He went to the mirror, looked at his reflection, and realized why. He was smiling.
A glance at the clock on the wall told him he was late. Quickly, he got washed, watered the plant and dressed.
At breakfast, he didn’t join in any conversations, but he found himself listening and paying more attention to the others at his table. One of the older boys was bragging about the act that had sent him to Harmony House.
‘So this lady is holding her bag really tightly, and I figure there’s gotta be a reason. She’s carrying something valuable. So I come up from behind, and tap her on the shoulder. “Excuse me,” I say, real polite and smiling, “could you tell me where the First National Bank is?” She starts to think, I grab the bag and take off. She’s like so freaked out, I’m halfway round the corner before she even starts yelling!’
Paul imagined himself on the street and watching the event occur. What would he have done? If the thief was a fast runner, Paul could have become a cheetah. Wasn’t that the fastest animal? Or he could shift into a tiger, pounce on the thief, take the handbag in his teeth and bring it back to the lady.
He felt himself smiling again. It was exciting, thinking about all the possibilities. He noticed that people at the table were looking at him oddly. Had he shifted without even trying? No, he decided, it was probably because they’d never seen him smile before.
He was still smiling when he arrived at Dr Paley’s office. Dr Paley smiled back at him.
‘I can see you’re feeling well, Paul. But if I ask, “How are you?” would you be able to answer me?’
It took a lot of effort and a few false tries, but finally Paul managed to murmur something that sounded pretty close to ‘fine’.
Dr Paley nodded with approval. ‘It’s going to take a while before you’ll be able to speak normally when fully conscious. You’ll have to practise. I’m going to see if I can arrange for a speech therapist to work with you.’
Paul was pleased. He wanted to be able to speak easily. When he was allowed to go back to school, he wanted to tell his classmates how he’d turned into a dog that morning and alarmed the resident assistant. He remembered Charles telling a funny story once, about how he teased his brother by moving his chair just as he was about to sit down. People laughed . . .
Madame had scolded him though. She’d said Charles shouldn’t use his gift for silly reasons. Paul would have to start seriously listening to what Madame said now. But maybe it was OK, just once in a while, to do something silly with a gift . . .
‘Are you thinking about your gift?’ Dr Paley asked.
Paul nodded.
‘It must be pretty shocking to suddenly realize how much power you have,’ the doctor said.
Paul nodded again, though shocking didn’t seem to be the right word to describe his reaction. Maybe at first, when he saw himself as a rabbit on the TV screen. Now he was more . . .
interested.
‘These kinds of gifts . . . They can be frightening,’ the doctor continued. ‘You must have heard your classmates talk about that.’
Paul thought back to the discussions in the gifted class. Yes, some people talked about being scared. Amanda worried that she might get stuck in the body of someone she’d taken over. Sarah . . . She was definitely scared, she wouldn’t even talk about her gift.
‘You know, with your gift you could become very dangerous.’
Paul could see how that could happen. Animals can hurt people. Of course
people
could hurt people too. But if you were a good person – or a good animal – you wouldn’t do that. Madame talked a lot about controlling the gifts . . . He’d have to pay attention to her so he could learn how to use his gift well.
‘Madame believes that most of your classmates developed their gifts as a reaction to something. Or perhaps as a compensation. They developed these gifts because they needed them to survive. Martin was small and weak, people teased him, and he dealt with this by becoming unnaturally strong. Charles felt trapped in his wheelchair and unable to do things on his own. So his mind became so strong that he could move objects with it. As for you . . .’
The doctor leaned back in his chair and studied Paul.
‘Your gift emerged through fear. Are you still afraid, Paul?’
Paul worked at forming the word, and he was pleased that it came out almost clearly. ‘No.’
‘Good!’ Dr Paley said. ‘Then perhaps you don’t really need your gift. The goal, Paul, is to become normal. For example, Madame tells me that Martin has been growing, and he’s just about reached a normal height and weight. I believe that when his subconscious accepts the fact that he doesn’t need super-strength to fight his battles, he may naturally lose his gift.’
That made sense to Paul.
‘Madame told me about . . .’ he studied some papers on his desk. ‘. . . Emily. She predicts the future, right? And do you know when she discovered this gift?’
The word that came from Paul’s mouth sounded like ‘fahzer’, but Dr Paley understood.
‘That’s right. Her father was killed in an accident, and Emily claims to have seen it in her head before it happened. But my theory is that Emily unconsciously created that memory after the fact. And this triggered an actual ability to predict the future.’ He gazed up at the ceiling. ‘Is this a good thing? I don’t think so. It could have grave consequences, if Emily’s visions become clearer and more accurate. This could change the course of history. Emily doesn’t need this gift. I don’t think any of you really need your gifts.’
Paul didn’t agree. He got some words out. ‘Charles . . . chair.’ They sounded like ‘Shar’ and ‘sheer’ but Dr Paley got the picture.
‘You’re saying Charles needs his gift because it’s not likely that he’ll ever be out of a wheelchair. But most people in wheelchairs don’t have supernatural gifts, Paul, and they function perfectly well.’ He smiled. ‘Now, I don’t know Charles personally, but I wonder if perhaps his gift emerged simply because he’s too lazy to learn how to do things on his own. I do believe you’d all survive very well without your gifts. You’d probably be happier.’
Paul wasn’t so sure about that. Happy . . . It wasn’t a word he normally associated with himself. But since discovering his gift, he might be tempted to call himself happy.
Dr Paley looked at his watch. ‘That will be all for today, Paul.’ He rose and opened the door. Halfway out, Paul remembered something he wanted to ask the doctor. When would he be able to leave Harmony House? But before he could formulate words, the phone on the secretary’s desk rang.
‘Doctor Paley’s office. Yes, send them in.’ She hung up the phone. ‘Ken Preston and Amanda Beeson have arrived for their appointment.’
‘Good,’ Dr Paley said. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Paul.’
But Paul was curious. Why were two of his classmates coming to see Dr Paley? Did it have something to do with what the doctor was just talking to him about?
Before, Paul wouldn’t have cared about Ken and Amanda. But now that he was one of them . . .
The secretary had her back to him. Paul shifted. And fortunately, Dr Paley was studying his notes, and so he didn’t notice the cockroach that crawled under his desk.
T
HE SECRETARY TOLD KEN and Amanda that Dr Paley was expecting them. Sure enough, when they entered the inner office, the plump, balding man in the white coat was standing by his desk and smiling.
‘Come in, Amanda. And you must be Ken. Have a seat.’
Amanda surveyed the room, and what she saw was reassuring. It looked like any doctor’s surgery, with an examining table, a cabinet holding medical equipment, a tall weighing scale and an eye chart on the wall. It was all spotlessly clean, even the floor, so she felt OK about dropping her handbag there when she sat down.
‘So, are you kids cutting class?’ the doctor asked jovially.
‘We have excuses,’ Amanda assured him. She didn’t want him thinking she and Ken were the kind of people who were residents of Harmony House. ‘I told the school secretary we had doctors’ appointments.’
‘Which is absolutely true,’ Dr Paley said. He indicated a framed diploma on the wall behind his desk. ‘I
am
a doctor.’
Amanda had no doubts about that. If Madame trusted this man, he had to be what he said he was. Madame was no fool.
‘Now, tell me what I can do for you.’
Amanda looked at Ken.
‘You go first,’ Ken said.
She faced the doctor. ‘When I saw you yesterday, you said you might be able to help us. And, and we need help.
‘Help with what?’ Dr Paley asked.
Amanda glanced at Ken again. Ken nodded, clearly encouraging her to go on.