The Felix Chronicles: Freshmen (44 page)

“This is it,” Bill said a moment later as he stepped through the opening with Felix in tow. There was just enough light for Felix to see that it was a room. A really big room. The pungent smell of dank decaying leather filled the air. Across from the doorway were windows—lots of windows. He wanted to see where he was—he’d gotten completely discombobulated stumbling his way up the staircase—so he let go of Bill’s jacket and crossed the room, careful to avoid a table and several chairs in his way. The windows looked out onto another Old Campus building to the north which obstructed everything but a strip of parking lot adjacent to Stubbins Stadium—the same spot where he’d headbutted a lamppost and lost his mind for a spell.

“We need to do something about that. Give me a hand.” Bill was no longer whispering. And he was making noises. Strange noises. Grunting?

Felix turned away from the windows to search for him. It took a moment to locate him because he was hidden behind a very large object that he was apparently trying to push across the floor. It must have been heavy because he wasn’t having much success.

“What are you doing?” Felix’s voice sounded small in the vast room.

“What does it look like? Damn. This thing’s heavy.” Bill stood up straight and clapped the dust off his hands. Felix could now see that the
thing
was a bookcase—a big bookcase. “But this’ll be perfect,” Bill said. “Perfect height. There are eight windows and more than enough of these. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before. If you help, it should be relatively easy to slide them over there.” He looked toward the windows. “As long as the floor doesn’t collapse, that is.”

“Seriously?” Felix glanced down warily at the floor and lifted a foot, as if that would actually make him lighter.

“I’m joking,” Bill said with a little chuckle. “This building’s built like an old battleship. C’mon. Roll up your sleeves and let’s get to work.”

There was nothing
relatively easy
about moving a twelve-foot solid wood bookcase. The racket they were making worried Felix at first, but after a while, he didn’t care. He just wanted to be done with it without slipping a disk in his back. As soon as they blocked out the last window, he sat down on a table to catch his breath.

“Good.” Bill went over to the doorway, wiping sweat from his forehead. “There are two entrances to this room and both face the hallway. Any light that escapes won’t be visible to anyone who happens to be passing by Inverness from any direction. We’ve taken care of the windows, so without—”

“I can’t see a goddamn thing,” Felix complained, breathing fast.

“I was about to say, without any further ado, let there be light.”

And just like that, there was sudden illumination from above. Huge ornate Victorian chandeliers stretched across the length of the room, suspended high overhead from a vaulted ceiling detailed with beautiful old-world millwork. Paneled with thick polished wood, the dark dusty walls were repositories for books which sat atop shelves mounted on corbels carved to resemble grapes, leaves, lions and angels. Scattered throughout in random groupings were tables, desks, chairs and bookcases (like the ones now covering up the windows). The room had been left in a permanent state of confused disarray. It was like half of its contents had been evacuated during a Japanese air raid, and the rest, forgotten.

“Quite a room, don’t you think?” Bill said proudly.

“It’s actually pretty cool.” Felix’s breath steamed in the cold air. “So this is the old library, huh?” It reminded him a lot of Woodrow’s Room.

“It was for over a hundred years. The building was mothballed a long time ago, and it’s too costly to reconfigure, which is too bad, because they don’t build ‘em like this anymore. On the other hand, I’ve been scouting locations since I arrived in Portland, and this room’s perfect.”

Felix had lost track of time moving the bookcases; he didn’t know if it was one or three. He wanted to check his watch, but he knew Bill wouldn’t like that. “What’s up with the lights?”

Bill looked up wearily at the chandeliers and cursed, a look of disappointment creasing his face for a moment. “I actually replaced all the damn bulbs less than a week ago. They keep going out. I suppose it’s the antiquated electrical system. I’m just glad the school didn’t turn that off when it disconnected the heat and water.”

“Hey,” Felix said. “Where’d you get the key, anyway? The key to the building?”

“I’m the assistant groundskeeper, remember? I have the keys to every building on campus. I have access to everything. You think I took this job because I like cleaning dog shit off The Yard?” He smiled at Felix. “Now if you don’t have any more questions, I think we should start. It’s late as it is, and I’m sure you’d like to get a little sleep tonight.”

“Sure. Let’s do it.” Felix paused and gave him a questioning look. “What are we doing?”

“Follow me.” Bill wedged his way between a pair of lion-pawed desks, through a loose semicircle of high-backed chairs with curved armrests, and around an upside down table, its legs sticking up like a four-poster bed. He stopped in front of a large rectangular reading table in the center of the room. On top was a stack of books several feet high. “I want you to stand over there.” He motioned at a spot a few feet behind the table.

Felix went around to the other side. He looked at the pile of books and then at Bill, who was watching him closely. “Now what?” he asked uncertainly.

“Move them onto the floor without touching them,” Bill instructed.

“What?”

“Move the books.”

“How do I do that?”

“The same way you destroyed Allison’s room.”

“I was sleeping,” Felix replied flatly. “I don’t know how I did that. I just did.”

“That’s exactly it.
You just did
. That’s all there is to it. If you want to do it—you can do it.”

“You make it sound easy.”

Bill lifted his eyes to the ceiling and laughed. “It’s like anything else. It’ll be easy once you know what you’re doing. You’re the Belus. You just need to learn how to unlock the Source. That’s it.”

“That’s still not very helpful,” Felix sighed.

Bill started pacing, his footsteps echoing in the huge space. “It’s not necessary to be in a heightened emotional state in order to use the Source, but when your emotions are running high, for example, when you’re extremely upset or angry, it leaks out of you. That’s what happened with little Nathan and explains why he’s now getting along with fewer organs than the rest of us. It also happened at your dorm.”

“So are you saying I can unlock this Source thing by getting really pissed off?”

Bill stopped and turned to face him. “Probably. But I don’t want you to make a habit of this. I think we should just try this approach until you get the hang of it, okay? Now I’m going to say some things that’ll make you very angry. I want you to understand right now that I’m only doing this to help you. I don’t mean any of it. I don’t want you to lose control. I want you to focus on the books. I want you to move the books. That’s it. And above all else,
do not get angry
at me
. Please. Understand?”

Felix nodded, fixing his eyes on the books. And despite the chill in the room, and his wet clothes—he could almost hear his mom’s voice telling him to change out of them before he caught cold—he started to sweat.

“Ready?” Bill said. It appeared he might be sweating too.

Felix swallowed hard.  “Bring it.”

“Why are you here?” Bill demanded.

“Huh?” Felix shifted his gaze to Bill.

“Dammit!” Bill shouted angrily. “Just answer the goddamn question! Don’t look at me!”

Felix nodded, startled, returning his attention to the books. “Sorry.”

“Why’d you come to PC? Did you think coming to this glorified prep school would make you smarter? Did you think a place that pretends to be a snooty, upper crust English boarding school would give you a clever accent?”

“I like—”

“It’s pathetic! The school’s trying to be something it’s not. Little Ben? Seriously? This is Oregon. Not England. Not Oxford. Not Cambridge. And you’re just a dumb kid from a small town who fell for it. This isn’t going to change who you are or where you come from.”

Coos Bridge? Is he making fun of my hometown?
Is that where he was going with this?
Please.
This wasn’t going to make him angry.

“Why don’t you have a girlfriend?” Bill said to him.

“What?” Felix heard himself say.

“Why don’t you have a girlfriend?”

“Because… because Emma dumped me. I haven’t—”

“Why’d she dump you?”

“Why?”
Bill was clueless if he thought this was going to piss him off.

“You know the answer!” Bill shouted. “Why’d she dump you?”

“She said… she said I wasn’t like her.”

“Is that what she said?
Bullshit!
She said you’re not good enough for her. Didn’t she? Didn’t she? Didn’t she?” Each time Bill said ‘didn’t she?’ his voice grew louder, higher and angrier.

“Yes!” Sweat trickled down his forehead. His face was hot. Now Bill was starting to irritate him.

“She knew you would never amount to anything. She knew you were going to be a failure. She thought you’d flunk out of college. Didn’t she? Didn’t she?”

“Yes!”

“She thought you’d end up in the mill, didn’t she?”

“Yes!” His limbs were growing warm.

“She’s right!” Bill screamed.

“What?”

“You’re too goddamn stupid to understand that Emma was right!”

“What? What are you talking about? No she—”

“You’re not good enough for her! You never were! You never will be!”

“Shut up!”

“She dumped you like garbage!” Bill screamed, spittle spewing from his mouth.

“Shut up!” His stomach felt strange. His legs were shaking.

“She knew she could do better than you!”

“Shut up!” Now it was working; he wanted to jump over the table and plant his fist in Bill’s face.

“Emma cheated on you! She liked cheating on you. It turned her on. You were
nothing
to her! You were just a pet. A goddamn fluffy kitten. Pretty with no substance. You hear that? No substance! None! Somebody to keep around until something better came along. And that’s what you deserve. Because you’re nothing! And you never will be! You’re a loser!
You’re white trash! White. Trash.”

The table began to vibrate. Then it shook. The legs lifted off the floor and bounced up and down, banging against the wood like a barn door in a windstorm. The books shifted around. The ones at the top of the stack slid off their perch, landing on the table with light
thudding
sounds.

“Focus!” Bill screamed at him. “The Books! Make them move! Make them move!”

Felix felt like everything had suddenly snapped into slow motion. He gritted his teeth and whispered to himself: “Move. Move. Get. Off. The. Table. Now.”

Every book on the table rocketed across the room and smashed into the wall. The echo cracked and rippled, finally fading away into the dusty recesses of the library.

“What are you feeling?” Bill shouted. He was in front of Felix now, his fingers pressing into Felix’s shoulders. “What do you feel? Focus on what you’re feeling. Talk to me! What do you feel?”

Felix’s breath felt tight in his throat. His whole body was shaking. He didn’t know if he was in shock, or what, but he felt
weird
. It was like he was watching somebody else from above. Maybe it was what people call an out-of-body-experience. He’d just made thirty books
fly
across the room. People can’t do stuff like that, right? How did he do that?
And then it dawned on him as suddenly as if the ceiling had crashed down on his head.

“It’s all true,” he whispered softly.
The journal. Allison’s room. I’m the Belus. Lofton Ashfield’s the Drestian. My parents weren’t my real parents. My real mom died in a mental hospital. This isn’t a hoax. I’m not being punked. It’s all true. It’s really true. Damn.

“What are you feeling?” Bill demanded, giving him a shake. “C’mon! Focus for me.”

Felix still had an urge to punch him in the face. “Warm and cold. I feel… uh… I feel… my legs and arms are a little tingly. And there’s something in my gut. Here.” He placed a hand on his stomach.

“What is it? What do you feel?”

“I don’t know. It’s weird. Heavy. I guess. It feels kinda heavy.”

“This is very important,” Bill said slowly, emphasizing each word. “Listen to me carefully. Focus on what you’re feeling now. Focus very hard. You need to recapture it, okay? This is how you’ll feel when you use the Source. Can you remember this? Can you make yourself feel this way?”

“I just did that, didn’t I?” A smile spread across Felix’s face. “I just did that with my
mind
. Unbelievable!”

“Don’t be so impressed with yourself,” Bill chided. “You’re the Belus. That was child’s play.” He turned and took off across the room to where the books lay on the floor in a heaping pile. “I didn’t mean any of that, by the way! Emma’s just a stupid kid. And my apologies to PC, although I do think the clock tower belongs in a theme park.” He scooped up an armful of books and ran back to the table. “You’re not a loser. And you’re the furthest thing from white trash than anyone I’ve ever met.” He dropped them on the table, sending up little puffs of white dust into the chilly air. Then he went to work hastily constructing a leaning-tower-of-Pisa-like structure.

“You can do better than Emma,” Bill went on. “And you will.” Bill’s voice sounded higher than normal. He was excited, but trying to hide it.

“It’s okay.” Felix didn’t feel warm anymore—or cold—and he wasn’t angry at Bill. His arms and legs were no longer tingling. He ran his hand over his stomach. The heavy sensation was gone. “I’m over her. I totally don’t give a shit anymore.” He recalled the
secret game
he’d played with his friends a few weeks ago. “But for some weird reason she keeps coming up.”

Bill wasn’t listening. He was straightening up the tower. “I want you to do that again.” He stepped back from the table. “Just like before. Close your eyes and visualize what you felt when you moved the books. When you recapture that feeling, open your eyes and move them. Got it?”