The Girl Who Could Fly (21 page)

    Ever since Daisy and Myrtle had taken over running the institute, things had changed drastically. It was decided that the institute would no longer imprison any life-form, but instead provide a safe haven only for those who required assistance or protection. It was also going to direct the vast equipment and research facilities at its disposal to the creation of scientific advances that would benefit all creatures, whether normal or not.
    Unfortunately, very few of the inhabitants could be immediately released back to their original homes because they were simply too weak or damaged from Dr. Hellion’s ministrations. Conrad devised a program to wean the drugs out of their systems while Daisy and Myrtle supervised the scientists, who were now tasked with rehabilitating the various creatures and retraining them in their talents. For many, the damage had been great and it was going to be a slow process. Myrtle and Daisy, who were overseeing every step and reporting back to Conrad, were relentless in their efforts to save each and every one.
    Every time a rose reclaimed its bloom or a leaping turtle regained the spring in its step, it was a great cause for celebration. Myrtle was, more often than not, the one who ran across the globe to deliver the healed plant or animal back to its home. She was also the one to complete weekly, and then monthly, checkups to make sure that it was flourishing back in its natural habitat.
    Conrad took a keen interest in every aspect of the daily reports and ensured that the true nature of the facility was being carefully concealed from the rest of the world. Before Conrad would even consider letting any of the kids leave I.N.S.A.N.E., he instructed them on the arts of discretion, much to Kimber’s chagrin.
    “I can do what I want. Who do you think you are, Dr. Hellion?” Kimber snapped.
    “No, I think I’m the person who is trying to stop someone like Dr. Hellion from catching us again. The fact of the matter is, Kimber, that we scare a lot of people. They don’t know what to do with us. So all I’m asking you to do is to give them an explanation that they can understand when you have to, and don’t tell them about it when you don’t. I’m not asking you to hide, I’m telling you not to flaunt it.”
    Conrad had finally won them over, and when newspaper reporters pressed Kimber for details on the amazing special effects she used in her circus act, she smiled tightly and said, “No comment.” Conrad had negotiated ironclad employment agreements for the others that ensured their protection and privacy. It was an uneasy and potentially dangerous situation, and Conrad kept a close eye on them all to make sure that no one was suddenly going to find themselves on the front page of the
New York Times
, or the top story on the six o’clock news.
    While much progress had been made, it was by no means a perfect solution and was potentially fraught with peril. Indeed, it weighed heavily on Conrad’s mind, and a few months later, when the kids all gathered at the farm for a little rest and relaxation, he made a point of watching them closely to see what progress they had made. As it turned out, he wasn’t the only one.
    “There’s something that ain’t right about all them kids,” Millie Mae Miller confidentially sniffed to the minister’s wife. The Fourth of July picnic was in full swing and Millie Mae had cornered the poor woman under the trees. “Have you ever seen the likes of it?” She pointed her finger accusingly.
    The minister’s wife nervously cleared her throat. “True, they ain’t from around these parts but . . . they’re just children all the same. Don’tcha think?”
    Millie Mae was fit to be tied and squinted her eyes suspiciously. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something was definitely going on. Over a year ago those fancy suit-types from the institute had explained to the folks of Lowland County that Piper McCloud had played a trick on them and that she couldn’t fly at all. They had called it an optical illusion and said they were going to take the naughty girl away for a while to teach her not to play such tricks. Millie Mae Miller wanted to make sure that Piper McCloud wasn’t up to her old hijinks, because she, for one, wouldn’t stand for it.
    With no real evidence, Millie Mae resorted to grasping at straws. “Did I tell you that they wouldn’t even give my Sally Sue the time of day?” She spat. “Sally Sue was standing next to ’em in line and they didn’t say so much as ‘howdy do.’ Rude, is what that is. Bad manners. I’m telling you, I ain’t never seen the likes of it.” Millie Mae crossed her arms in front of her chest. “But they’ll get what’s coming to ’em. It’s always the way.”
    Millie Mae waited all day for the strange group of youngens under Betty and Joe McCloud’s care to get ‘what was coming to ’em,’ to no avail. When the baseball game was called to order, she licked her lips, certain that their just desserts would be quickly served up.
     The shouting, pushing, and pulling had the normal result of producing two team leaders, but that year there was a strange name in the roster—Rory Ray Miller and
Conrad
. It wasn’t because Conrad could outthink, out-argue, or out-anything that he scared the bejesus out of everyone in Lowland County. No, their fear was generated for reasons that they couldn’t quite put their finger on, and which prompted them to cut the boy a wide berth. It was for that same reason that Conrad claimed the first draft pick and was quick to snap up the best player in the bunch.
    “Piper McCloud.”
    Piper moved out of the waiting kids with her head held high and joined Conrad’s team.
    “Jimmie Joe,” Rory Ray shouted.
    “Lily Yakimoto.”
    “Junie Jane.”
    “Ahmed Mustafa.”
    “Billy Bob.”
    Like the rest of Lowland County, Betty and Joe enjoyed the baseball game on the side of the hill, and perhaps cheered louder than any of the other parents. It was a joy for them to see Piper so happy and to have such good friends. They’d watched her all day, laughing and playing. She’d taught Violet to do the jig, and then the two girls had laughed so hard under the trees that their stomachs hurt. Pretty much, they’d spent the whole day laughing, so much so that Violet had spilled strawberry ice cream down the front of her dress. This only made them laugh harder.
    Betty could see how much Piper had changed in the last year. Just the week before, Betty had suggested that Piper might like to attend the local school. To her surprise, Piper didn’t think on it long before solemnly telling Betty that she’d had enough schooling for the time being and wasn’t much interested in going to school anymore. And that wasn’t the only change. There were places and parts of Piper that she kept closed now, and things she didn’t talk about. She was more thoughtful and there were periods when she became very silent, like she was deeply grieving something that Betty could only guess at. Betty knew that Piper hadn’t told her everything that had gone on at the institute and Betty guessed that there was a good reason for that too. As a parent, she wanted to know everything, but some things are just too difficult to know. Betty was careful not to press Piper for information further than she was willing to volunteer, and took note of the fact that there was a knowledge and understanding that had grown in her child’s eyes that spoke of wisdom.
    But most of the time, like today, Piper was just like she’d always been, which is to say that Piper was full of life and bursting to meet the challenges before her.
     “CATCH THE BALL, PIPER!”
    Billy Bob hit a doozie. The ball climbed and climbed.
    Piper shot Lily a meaningful glance and Lily responded with a mischievous smile. Piper then held her baseball glove calmly above her head and waited for the ball to drop into it. To the startled eyes of the spectators, not to mention the opposing team, it did.
    “Awww, man!” Rory Ray sulked. His team threw their hats to the ground and Junie Jane used a few choice words.
    Try as she might, Millie Mae couldn’t actually point to a single thing that Piper or anyone else on her team was doing that was out of the ordinary. Sure, it was bad luck that every time someone on Rory Ray’s team was up to bat they had blinding sunlight in their eyes or a suspicious wind roaring past. Not to mention the fact that there was one time that Piper McCloud seemed to linger in the air a bit longer than most kids might when she caught a ball. And even Millie Mae had to admit that the girl could jump amazingly high.
    Of course, when Myrtle was running, Millie Mae did whisper that the girl was a “ringer.” There were other things that just irritated her, like the fact that the big girl, Daisy, kept breaking both the bat and the ball, and that every time Kimber hit the ball it had a strange electrical charge on it that caused the unlucky person who caught it to immediately release it. And Conrad, well, even Millie Mae Miller knew her limits and wasn’t about to take him on.
    As the sun began to set over Lowland County, Betty and Joe rose to their feet and cheered loudly for the winning baseball team. For Piper, Conrad, and all of the others, it was a victory, but not over the opposing team. It was the first time that they had played with other children and had not been ostracized or fled from in fear. It was the first time that they had been accepted by their friends for what they were, while being able to strike some sort of balance, however uneasy, with the outside world. A triumph indeed.
    Betty and Joe packed the lot of them back to the farm after that. There was only so much scrutiny from Millie Mae that Betty’s nerves could take. The rest of the day was spent away from all of the prying eyes, in the fields and pastures of the farm, where the games played were anything but normal.
    That night Conrad found Piper quietly by herself on the roof of the house, enjoying a sky full of stars.
    “It was fun today, huh?” For once Conrad actually sounded his age.
    Piper smiled and nodded.
    “You coming back inside? Violet said she could shrink smaller than a teacup and Smitty bet Kimber twenty bucks she couldn’t.”
     “She can.”
    “I know. But Smitty and Kimber will get into a fight about it anyway and that’ll be hysterical.” Conrad laughed.
    “True.”
    Sensing that there was something on Piper’s mind, Conrad sat quietly next to her. Piper’s eyes went back to the stars and Conrad noticed that she had been covering her stomach with her hands as though she wasn’t feeling well. When her hands came down to her lap, he was surprised to see the linen handkerchief embroidered with small bluebirds clutched between her fingers.
    “J. was here.” Conrad was not asking a question.
    “He just left.” As he’d promised, J. had come back for Piper and had returned her handkerchief to her. He was exactly the way Piper had remembered him too: harried, with hair-trigger nerves and no time for small talk. “J. wants to take us away from here. He says that it’s still not safe and he has some vital information to share with us.”
    “Safe from what, specifically? And what kind of information?” Conrad had read Letitia Hellion’s file on J. It was extensive in specifics, but bereft of essentials, such as any psychological analysis or background information, which would indicate what was driving J. with such relentless and overwhelming passion. Until Conrad could learn more about this mysterious invisible man he was extremely wary of J.’s motives, regardless of the fact that all indications pointed to his benevolence. “Did he try to force you to leave with him?”
    “No, of course not. He said something about a place that was hidden. It’s far away and it’s secret. He said we’d belong there. Do you think we should go?”
    Conrad’s mind raced in every direction at once, analyzing the information from all conceivable angles.
    Piper was instantly sorry to see the carefree boyish quality vanish, after emerging on Conrad’s face over the last few weeks on the farm. It was replaced by a deathly seriousness and slight anxiety, which she knew all too well. This was not what Piper wanted at all. After all that they’d been through, and all that they’d accomplished, surely they deserved a small respite to relax and appreciate their good fortune. And surely, there would be time—time for planning and understanding and for her to explain to him the many other things that J. had told her. But sitting on the roof under the stars, after such a delicious day, was definitely not that time, Piper decided.
    “Conrad?”
    “Um-hmmm.”
    “We did real good, huh?”
    “Hmmmm?”
    “Everything worked out. Everyone’s real happy and . . . I mean, I know it’s not perfect, but what’s perfect? Right?”
     “What are you trying to say?”
    “Remember how mean you were when we first met?” Piper laughed and Conrad smiled and tentatively relaxed. “Boy, did you ever have everyone fooled ’cause you’re about the nicest person I ever met.” Conrad blushed. “That got me to thinking how Dr. Hellion seemed nice but was actually mean, but then it turned out she was just real sad. Ever wonder why there’re so many sad and scared people out there? I always wanted to teach people to fly, but I don’t wanna do that no more. Flying’s alright but if I had the chance, I’d teach ’em to be happy instead. You know? You think you can teach someone to be happy?”
    That was something Conrad had never thought about before. It relaxed him to consider the subject and he leaned back against the shingles and shrugged. “You got me there, Piper. I don’t know.”
    “Bet you can.”
    “I wouldn’t put anything past you, Piper McCloud.”
    Piper smiled at Conrad and let herself slide off of the roof. A moment later she took to the night air, gliding upward to the stars.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

There are so many people to thank. . . .
    My dear husband, Wayne, who has stood by and watched me muddle through this process.
    Roger Corman, who liked the idea in the first place, and Frances Doel, whose gentle hand first guided me through the craft of storytelling.
    Dan Rabinow at ICM, for his nonstop enthusiasm and support, and Richard Abate, for fighting so hard.
    Dean Georgaris and John Goldwyn, for asking me to take the story in new directions—it was a journey that served me well, even though it ultimately led me back home again.
    Jean Feiwel, who deeply understood the story and gave it endless time and meticulous attention.
    But mainly and mostly, I wish to thank Marta and Thomas, who were with me through the dark nights—reading, rereading, and then reading yet again everything I wrote. Without fail, you were understanding, encouraging, and enthusiastic, and there is no doubt in my mind that I couldn’t have done it without you.