Whispers From the Grave (4 page)

I blinked. There, next to my comb, was my strawberry lip tinter—the lip tinter Suki had stolen when she visited last week. I was positive it hadn’t been there yesterday. Suki was
really
strange. She’d stolen my lip tinter, returned it, and taken my eyelid shadower!

No wonder she didn’t have any friends.

Mom was still acting funny at breakfast, and it wasn’t because I asked more questions about Rita. I deliberately avoided the subject. I’d decided to find out about Rita without her help.

Mom was upset because of my new job. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to work,” she said. “You need to concentrate on your studies.”

“It’s not really work. Dr. Grady just wants me to take some tests. It’s only on Saturdays.”

“Saturdays should be fun. You take tests at school all week,” she said. It was the first time she’d been concerned about my having fun on Saturdays. In fact, she usually put me to work cleaning the house. Her sudden concern for my “fun” was puzzling.

“Dr. Grady is counting on Jenna,” Dad said through a mouthful of cereal. “She made a commitment to him.”

It surprised me that he intervened on my behalf. He usually stayed out of my arguments with Mom. My parents were behaving totally out of character!

Mom glowered at Dad, her eyes an odd mixture of anger and worry. Before she could protest anymore, Kyle honked his horn and I dashed outside.

When we walked into Twin-Star Labs, the first thing I saw was Suki, sitting alone in the reception area. She dropped the magazine she was reading when she saw me with Kyle.

He gripped my elbow and steered me to the reception desk. “We’re here to see Dr. Grady,” he told the plump receptionist.

“Hello, Kyle!” she greeted him. “We haven’t seen you in a while. Have a seat. Dr. Grady will be with you in a moment.”

I sat on the couch across from Suki. Kyle plopped down next to me, so close his thigh pressed against mine, sending a shiver of excitement through me. I smiled sheepishly at Suki. Her eyes were wide with astonishment.

I flushed guiltily, then felt a flash of anger. How dare she make me feel guilty? She didn’t own Kyle. It wasn’t as if I’d stolen her boyfriend.
She
was the one stealing things.

“You guys are the first ones here,” she said, sounding much too cheerful. “Uncle Terry had to get here early and I’ve been really bored sitting and waiting for everyone.”

“Is that right?” Kyle said distractedly, not bothering to look at her. She didn’t seem to notice and nodded happily, thrilled he’d spoken to her.

“The others should arrive soon, don’t you think?” she gushed, looking expectantly at me.

Her enthusiasm sounded so
desperate.
I wished I could find a nice way to tell her that. “I love your puff-suit,” I said, trying to put her at ease. “Pink looks great on you.”

“Want to listen to music?” Kyle asked, handing me a Tune-Chip. “I programmed it with extra drums.”

I tucked the tiny chip in my ear, clipping the regulator to my earlobe as Kyle did the same with another chip. He bobbed his head and tapped his foot, enjoying the beat only he could hear.

It was strange how music had changed since Rita’s time when kids shared musical experiences—listening to songs on record players or at concerts with thousands of other people. Everyone heard the exact same tunes. Now, teenagers programmed Tune-Chips with their favorite instruments. The beat of the music adjusted to the individual’s heartbeat, breathing, and stress level.

As I listened to the synthesized computer voice, I remembered Mom telling me that at one time authorities feared teenagers were negatively influenced by messages in music. The Tune-Chip was designed to end that concern. It sensed distress levels in individuals and adjusted its beat so the listener relaxed.

Adults still went to concerts, but most teens—unless they were complete spards—preferred Tune-Chips.

I pulled out my chip as the door flew open and Josey and Marla burst in, giggling and tossing their shiny blond hair. Mike and Karen arrived shortly, and I soon found myself in the midst of a group of the most popular kids in school.

“Marla, that’s
a frazzin
puff-suit!” Suki exclaimed.

Marla looked startled, as if unsure who Suki was. “Thanks,” she mumbled, turning away to flirt with Mike.

“Wait till you guys see what my uncle wants you to do,” Suki butted in. “It’s a really weird experiment!”

Everyone ignored her. She clearly was not welcome to join in. Realizing this, she tried to draw me into a conversation. “Jenna, do you want to go to the mall later?” she asked. “There’s a new program I want to try at the virtual reality arcade.”

“That sounds like fun,” I said. “But I’ve got lots to do today. Maybe next week.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw the flash of hurt in her eyes. For an instant I felt a pang. I hardened myself to it. She should be making other friends. I was willing to hang out with her sometimes, but I saw no reason for us to be joined at the hip like a pair of Siamese twins.

This was
my
chance to finally belong to the right group, and I’d never get a chance to make friends if I committed every moment of my life to Suki.

“You’re the new girl who lives in Banbury House, aren’t you?” Marla asked, smiling.

“Yeah,” I said. “It’s like living in a museum sometimes. The house is a historic landmark, so the city makes us have an open house once a month. We have to give tours!”

“How annoying!” Marla said. “I’d hate to have to clean my room that often.”

“I just shove everything under my bed,” I admitted.

“It’s kind of a spooky old house,” Marla said. “Is it haunted?”

“I hope not.” I laughed. “But you’re right about it being scary. Especially after last night when I heard a girl got murdered on the beach.”

Suddenly all eyes were upon me. Even the receptionist looked up, her mouth dropping open. Then they were all talking at once, asking questions I had no answers to. “Who was it? When did it happen?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I was hoping you guys could tell me.”

“Where did you hear this?” Kyle asked, narrowing his eyes skeptically.

“Probably from Old Man Edwards!” Suki blurted. “He’s got brain-drag. He’s always rambling on about stuff like that. You can’t believe a word he says.”

A warm flush crept up my neck. Embarrassed, I admitted I’d heard about the murder from him.

A smug smile played on Suki’s lips when everyone laughed. Laughed at
me.
She seemed pleased she'd made me look foolish!

“I like my girls gullible,” Kyle said, patting my knee with an exaggerated lecherous wink.

“Knock it off, Kyle!” Marla squealed. “You’re such a dirty old man!”

“Dirty
young
man,” he said and stuck out his tongue, pretending to pant. I punched him in the arm, and found myself laughing along with everyone, relieved to realize they weren’t laughing
at
me, they were laughing
with
me, as the old saying goes.

“I am
not
gullible!” I said. “I’m just new here. That’s all.”

“That’s right,” Marla defended me. “Jenna hasn’t had a chance to sort out the crazies yet.”

Suki was fading into the background, her moment of glory over. No one was listening to her anymore. Any sympathy I had for her had vanished when she’d deliberately tried to embarrass me in front of my new friends.

“Hey, Kyle,” Marla said. “What are you doing here anyway? I thought your family owned this place. You don’t need to work.”

He stiffened, his leg suddenly rigid against mine. “You think I get a free ride?” His voice was sharp with irritation. “We own an interest in Twin-Star Labs, but that doesn’t mean I can’t pull my weight and go to work too.”

Marla giggled nervously. “Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just if my parents owned half the town, I wouldn’t get up at seven in the morning. I’d sleep till noon and then spend the day lying back munching choco-mals and watching the maid pick up the wrappers.”

Kyle laughed in spite of himself, but his voice was still edged with annoyance. “Choco-mals aren’t on my diet. You forget I’m an athlete. And I
don’t
have a personal maid.”

“”You poor deprived kid," Mike joked. He was Kyle’s best buddy, a fellow track star with wavy red hair. Kyle seemed to relax as his friend ribbed him good-naturedly.

As I watched my new friends, my mind inexplicably flew back to Rita. What would she think of the way things had changed? Our outfits would certainly look strange to her eyes. Like Suki and me, most of the girls favored puff-suits—loose-fitting garments of Feather-Fabric that cinched at the waist and flared at the knees.

Feather-Fabric, copied from nature, regulated body temperatures by automatically loosening or tightening its fibers, allowing air to circulate or be trapped against the skin. The oily-like sheen was not only beautiful, it repelled rain or accidental spills.

Lots of guys had clothing made from Feather-Fabric, but the basic cut of their outfits hadn’t changed much since Rita’s time. I glanced at Kyle beside me. He looked great in a bold blue sweater and black Feather-Fabric slacks. I imagined him through Rita’s eyes. Would she find him as attractive as Ben?

“What are you smiling about?” Kyle asked me.

I suddenly realized I was staring at him and grinning like an idiot. Flustered, I said, “I was just remembering something,” and then I turned to Marla and offered her my Tune-Chip.

There wasn’t much more time to socialize, because the receptionist soon hustled us down a long hallway where we were ushered into separate rooms. The rooms were small, stark cubicles not much bigger than bathrooms. I sat on one of the two straight-backed chairs facing a big glass tank with a strange-looking gadget inside.

“Glad to see you made it, Jenna,” Dr. Grady said in his no-nonsense way as he entered with a young brunette woman in a lavender lab jacket. “This is Tarynn. She’ll be recording the results,” he said, as she took the seat beside me.

“As for you, Jenna,” he continued, “I want you to watch the dice as they slide down this little shoot here.” He pointed at the glass tank and turned a switch. Inside the tank, an automated scooper picked up a pair of dice and placed them at the top of the shoot. A moment later a lever swung out and knocked the dice down the shoot. They landed on the floor of the tank.

“That’s all I have to do?” I asked. “Watch the dice fall?”

“Actually, I need you to do some concentrating too,” he said. “I want you to try to make the dice fall a certain way. For instance, let’s try to make them come up as sixes?”

He flipped the switch, and the scooper picked up the dice and placed them again at the top of the shoot. “Now, Jenna!
Concentrate.
Make them sixes!”

“
How?
Are there control buttons?” I asked, baffled.

“Use your mind,” he urged. “Pretend you’re gambling and you’ll win a million dollars if they come up sixes.”

It was a strange request, but I furrowed my brow and pictured the dice coming up sixes. When the lever bumped the dice, they slid clinking down the shaft and tumbled into the middle of the tank. A three and a two.

I glanced at Dr. Grady, surprised to see his face fall in disappointment. “Well. It will take some practice,” he said.

“I don’t understand," I said. “How can I control the dice without touching them?”

“We’re doing a study on psychokinetic powers,” Tarynn volunteered.

“Psycho-
what
?”

“Psychokinetics,” Dr. Grady said. “Scientists have found that the human mind has the ability to affect objects without touching them. J. B. Rhine, a famous parapsychologist who lived in the twentieth century, conducted a study with dice with an apparatus similar to this.”

I stared at him doubtfully.

“I know this sounds strange to you, Jenna. But several decades ago psychokinetic studies were quite common. Our conservative government of recent years, however, dramatically put the budget for paranormal studies. That’s probably why you haven’t heard of psychokinesis. But there is evidence some people have a natural ability for this type of thing.”

“We think you’re one of them,” Tarynn blurted, “because this ability is inherited.”

“Inherited from
who
?” I asked, stunned. But Dr. Grady glared at Tarynn, his eyes hard and dark under those fierce, wild eyebrows. “We haven’t much time,” he said brusquely. “I’ve got to get the others started, Jenna. Don’t fill your head with the whys of what we’re doing. Relax and concentrate on the dice.”

But my mind was spinning. Why did they think
I
had mind powers? And what did she mean about this ability being inherited? Who did I inherit it from?
My parents?

“What did you mean a minute ago?” I asked Tarynn when Dr. Grady left us alone.

“Never mind,” she said, popping open the tiny computer on her wrist. “I really put my foot in it. I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t fire me.”

“Just tell me. How come they think I have psycho-however-you-say-it?”

Her soft brown eyes darted around nervously. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I need this job. I’m putting myself through school.”

“I promise not to say anything. Please tell me.”

“The walls have ears,” she said, shifting uncomfortably.

Startled, I glanced at the stark white walls. My session was probably being videotaped. I couldn’t see a camera, but Dad had mentioned that Twin-Star had camera lenses so small they could fit on the head of a pin.

Tarynn was pale, and her lower lip quivered like she was trying not to cry. She was really worried about losing her job. If Dr. Grady was my boss, I’d be upset too. He looked mean when he was mad! I decided to let it go and get to work.

“Concentrate on fours,” Tarynn instructed as she hit the lever.
Four, four, four,
I thought, as I watched the dice roll down the shoot and tumble to a stop. A four and a three.

“Keep thinking fours,” she said. For the next fifteen minutes, we repeated the process. The dice came up on fours sometimes, but also landed on every other possible combination.

“I don’t think I have any powers,” I told her. “This seems pretty random.”