The Talent Diary

by Chris McFarland

  Chapter 5: Marissa’s Revenge

  Samantha woke up on her own bed, coming out of sleep gradually and into complete darkness. She rubbed her eyes and rolled over, looking across the room to the faint green glow of her clock. It was 2:13 in the morning. She rolled back and looked at the ceiling, trying to figure out why her head felt dizzy and odd. The memory came back.

  She sat upright, turned on the light, and jumped out of bed. She fumbled on her dresser for Neil’s diary. Samantha sat on the edge of her bed and flipped the pages until she found the entry for December 1st. She read it quickly, looking for anything suspicious. There was nothing strange she could see. Her grandfather had gone to school but said nothing of particular interest about the day. He played football with his friends at the park and went home to dinner afterwards.

  Samantha frowned. She opened her own diary, which contained only two entries so far. She picked up a pen but didn’t start writing immediately. It felt the way Grandpa said it would, Samantha thought. He said I would get really dizzy when something changed in the past. When I kicked out in the doctor’s office I must have done something to Grandpa that changed his future. But there is nothing in his diary that looks any different.

  She read her grandfather’s diary a second time. Then she tried to remember the morning before. She was getting ready for school, rushing because she was late, and worrying about her test. She had picked up the diary, given it a quick glance, and headed to school. Had the entry been longer the day before?

  She couldn’t remember for sure. It makes sense though, Samantha thought. If I changed something in Grandpa’s life because he got tired when I used my talent then what he would write in the diary would be different because of what happened. I might have stopped him from doing something, which is why this is shorter than I remember it.

  Her first instinct was to call Neil but she decided to wait until morning. She was in her own house and nothing seemed to be any different. Besides, calling him might wake her parents up and she didn’t want to explain why she was on the phone in the middle of the night. Feeling a little better, Samantha picked up her own diary and started writing, trying hard to avoid any mention of the draining she felt the previous afternoon.

  December 2nd, 1991. Today I had a test that got cancelled, which was good, because now I get more time to study. Not much else happened. Marissa said she might try to come over but she wasn’t able to make it. Maybe I’ll see her tomorrow at school.

  Samantha felt that perhaps she hadn’t written enough but writing made her feel drowsy again. She went back to sleep and had no dreams.

  She woke up at her usual time the next morning. She read the entry in her Grandpa’s diary closely but he once again had very little to say. Samantha left her room and walked down the hallway to the kitchen, startling her mother, who was eating a piece of toast.

  “Samantha. Are you feeling any better? You shouldn’t be up.”

  “I feel fine Mom.”

  It was true. She felt normal, except she was having difficulty remembering what happened the day before. She knew she had kicked the nurse while they were testing her reflexes but it was hard to remember the details. Samantha remembered reading her Grandpa’s diary, but she could remember two different versions of his entry. One seemed real, and the other was faint, ghostly, as if she had dreamed of its existence.

  Sandra got up, adjusting her bathrobe as she did so, and walked over to Samantha. Samantha tried to move around her but she wasn’t fast enough. Sandra put her hand to Samantha’s forehead.

  “You don’t have a fever. What about that headache? Do you still have it?”

  “No. That was gone yesterday in the doctor’s office.”

  “But you fainted yesterday. Do you have any dizziness?”

  “I’m fine Mom,” Samantha said, annoyed. “I feel just like I do every day.”

  “The doctor told us to watch you very closely for any signs of migraines. She’s worried you might get another one soon after your first.”

  “If I start feeling dizzy I’ll tell you.”

  Samantha pushed around Sandra and got an apple out of the fruit dish. She sat down at the table to eat it, opening the newspaper to the comic section. Sandra watched her do all this and then sat back down in her chair.

  “We’re worried about you Samantha. It’s no reason to be upset.”

  “I’m not upset,” Samantha said angrily, “I’m just tired of everyone pestering me about how I feel. Dad doesn’t do that when you get sick.”

  “That’s true. But you fainted after you kicked that poor nurse yesterday. The doctor said she’d never seen a reflex kick as strong as yours and she thought you might’ve had too much adrenaline because of your migraine. Or something like that. She was talking really fast on the phone and it was hard to understand her. And when you woke up yesterday you didn’t seem yourself. You were very distant. The doctor told your Dad to put you in bed and to watch you today to see if you have any more symptoms. If you do we’re supposed to bring you right back in.”

  Samantha felt a nasty shock when her Mom said she had woken up yesterday afternoon. She couldn’t remember anything after the horrible dizziness coursed through her. She didn’t want to tell her Mom this, however, because her Mom would want to call the doctor again. Instead, Samantha focused on the last thing her Mom had said, because it irritated her the most.

  “You mean I’m staying home today,” Samantha demanded.

  “Of course you’re staying home today. No one, not your doctor, the school, or your father and I would let you go. In fact, you shouldn’t even be out of bed today according to Dr. Ginger.”

  “But I feel fine. I don’t want to be in bed all day!”

  “You certainly seem to have energy,” Sandra said wryly, “but you simply aren’t going to school. Even Mr. Stillson called last night. When he heard what happened he wanted to make sure you had a couple days to rest.”

  “Mr. Stillson called here,” Samantha asked. She felt embarrassed.

  “Yes. He was concerned and wanted to check up on you.”

  Samantha stopped eating her apple and looked at her hands, still feeling embarrassed and a little ashamed.

  “Fine. So I’ll stay home. But I feel good Mom. I’m not kidding.”

  “Well, I’m glad you do. If it stays warm this afternoon and you seem healthy, maybe you can go out into the back for a while. I know it’s boring being cooped up inside.”

  “Where’s Dad today?”

  “He’s helping his friend Tony put in a lawn. He said he’d be home around eleven to see how you’re doing.”

  Samantha stayed in her room until lunchtime and then couldn’t take it anymore. She was bursting with energy and started to roam the house. What she really wanted was to play outside with her friends but they were all in school. She was even jealous of that fact, since Mr. Stillson’s class was so much fun and she could be doing stuff instead of re-reading the newspaper for the third time. Usually she was never bored, even we she had to be inside because of bad weather, but there was something about being forced to stay inside that she couldn’t stand. Nothing seemed fun.

  Thomas came home at lunch and asked her the same questions her Mom had asked that morning. Annoyed, Samantha gave uncharacteristically curt answers until her Dad got the hint and left her alone. Her Dad left the house again because he and his friend hadn’t finished installing the new lawn. Samantha resumed roaming the house until Sandra gave up and sent her outside.

  Relieved, Samantha pulled a light jacket over her T-shirt and jeans, left the house, and walked towards the eucalyptus grove. She realized the day was too warm for a jacket, reminding her more of April than early December. She took her jacket off and tossed it to the ground as she entered the grove. She walked quickly, having no urge to test her leaping ability on the trees.

  Knowing Mark and Cliff were at school, she approached the main entrance to the clubhouse without caution. She crawled under the bamboo, pried off the
loose fence board, and pulled the door up. Since no one was around to hold the door open she wrapped the string around a nail two times. She crawled through the opening, replaced the fence post, and yanked down on the door. The loose string unwrapped itself and the door closed.

  Samantha walked through the bamboo tunnels until she reached the clubhouse, where she collapsed on the couch. She lay back, looking up at the bright blue sky. Should I have called Grandpa, she wondered. I know he would want to know about fainting yesterday. Maybe something like that had happened to him when he was younger. He said he had felt it happen a few times but he didn’t want to talk about it.

  She had closed her eyes without realizing it and was asleep within moments.

  “Hey snoozer,” Marissa said.

  Samantha’s eyes opened. Marissa was standing over her. Samantha looked up at the sky but the sun had gone down behind the bamboo. She realized she was cold.

  “Your Mom made me bring you your jacket,” Marissa said, seeing Samantha shiver. She held it out to her and Samantha put it on gratefully.

  “Thanks. What time is it?”

  “About four. We have to hurry.”

  “Hurry. Where?”

  “You’ll see. It’ll be worth hurrying, I promise you that.”

  “What do you mean,” Samantha asked.

  “I’ll have to show you. Revenge is at hand.”

  Marissa started walking towards the back entrance. Samantha got off the couch and caught up to her. They opened the trapdoor and hurried through the old culvert. Moments later they crawled out from under the bamboo and jogged towards the eucalyptus grove.

  Both of them were breathing heavily by the time they got back inside the house. Samantha’s Mom wasn’t in the living room or kitchen.

  “Oh yeah,” Marissa said, “I almost forgot. Your Mom said she was running out to the store and that your Dad would be back by five. Come on.”

  Marissa walked to the front window and looked outside. It was three minutes after four.

  “What’s going on,” Samantha asked again, thinking she would strangle Marissa if she didn’t tell her.

  Perhaps Marissa sensed this because she turned to Samantha with a big, but slightly mean, smile on her face. Samantha had seen her this way before and, although Marissa was one of her best friends, she never really liked seeing that expression.

  “I’m going to get Cliff and Mark in trouble. I made a great plan.”

  “What is it?”

  “You know how my Dad works with computers and stuff right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He brought home this cool thing about a month ago. It’s called an auto dialer and you can hook it up to a phone. You can set it to dial as many times as you want and you can tell it when to start.”

  Samantha nodded, wondering what Marissa was talking about.

  “I went by Mark and Cliff’s house. Mark wasn’t at school today either so I pretended I was there to see how he was feeling. He was the one who answered the door.”

  Marissa put one hand over her mouth and started laughing.

  “What,” Samantha asked.

  “He turned red when he answered the door because he had his shirt off and his hair was all messed up. I don’t think he was sick though because he looked fine. Cliff told me at school that he was faking being sick today. He looked really funny.”

  “I bet he did,” Samantha said, giggling.

  “Yep. So he ran back inside and put on a shirt. I asked him if I could see that new game they got. That’s why he wanted to stay home today.”

  “What game was it?”

  “I don’t know. Some flying game. Anyway, we were looking at it. And he went out to get some cokes for us and I put the dialer on his phone.”

  “What!”

  “I put the auto dialer on his phone and I don’t think he’ll notice because his room is so messy. I set it to start at four. That was six minutes ago. I hope it’s working.”

  “What number did you set it for,” Samantha asked nervously.

  Marissa laughed but didn’t say anything. Samantha elbowed her in the side. Marissa pointed out the window and started laughing hard.

  Mr. Henson was walking rapidly along the sidewalk in front of their house, looking towards the Wilson’s.

  “You set it to keep calling Mr. Henson?”

  “Yeah, isn’t that great?”

  Marissa kept laughing but Samantha was worried.

  “But how would he know it was them?”

  “Don’t you remember when they tried to crank call him last year. He caught them because he has that new number tracing thing on his phone. Oh, I bet he’s mad.”

  Samantha watched him go over to the Wilson’s and knock on the door.

  “Where’s his cane,” Samantha asked suddenly.

  “What,” Marissa asked, still laughing.

  “His cane. I’ve never seen him without it.”

  “What are you talking about Samantha? Who?”

  “Mr. Henson. He always is limping along with his cane.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never seen him with a cane. Look! Someone answered the door. I think it’s Mark again because his parents won’t be back from work yet.”

  Samantha watched Marissa but she didn’t feel like laughing. Not only did she find the joke kind of mean and not very funny, she couldn’t understand why Marissa couldn’t remember Mr. Henson’s cane. Then that feeling of doubling memories, one real and the other fraudulent, came over her. The image of Mr. Henson with a cane started to feel false, like a dream. Frightened, Samantha tried to grab it back again and she couldn’t understand why Marissa didn’t feel the same way.

  “Don’t you remember,” Samantha said, “when he got his cane stuck in the ground the other day when he was talking to those policemen?”

  “I think Mark is denying that he is doing anything. Look.”

  “But his cane….”

  “Dang it Samantha! I’ve never seen him with a cane before! What’s wrong with you? This is the best we’ve ever gotten back at Mark and Cliff!”

  “You’ve never seen him with a cane, ever?”

  Marissa looked back at her, really annoyed.

  “That’s what I just said. And I know you haven’t seen him limping either. Jeez Samantha, he goes jogging every day. We were laughing at him a couple of weeks ago. Maybe you’re still sick or something.”

  Samantha was looking at Marissa with complete disbelief. Had she changed the past after all? But why would kicking the nurse get rid of Mr. Henson’s limp? Marissa had already dismissed her and was watching happily as Mr. Henson stalked to his house. The second he was inside with the door closed Marissa ran to the front door.

  “I need to go tell Mark how to turn it off. I’ll be right back.”

  Then she closed the door and ran to the Wilson’s. Samantha watched Marissa run across the lawn and felt a moment of intense jealousy. Marissa didn’t have to worry about a strange talent, so it was easy for her to play silly games with Cliff and Mark. Samantha walked to the kitchen counter and picked up the phone. Her Grandpa’s number was still on the corkboard and Samantha had a sense of déjà vu, remembering when she called him because Mark and Cliff threw firecrackers into the bamboo a few days before. She dialed the numbers and waited. Neil picked up on the first ring.

  “Hello,” he said.

  “Grandpa, it’s me.”

  “Hi Sam! How has everything been going?”

  “Terrible,” Samantha said, and she started crying.

  “That’s alright Sam.”

  Slowly Samantha controlled herself and her crying slowed to sniffles. Neil waited patiently on the line and Samantha started feeling better, comforted even by his silence.

  “Sorry Grandpa.”

  “It’s fine Sam. I knew this was going to be hard on you. It’s hard on everybody for the first couple of months but you get used to it. I’m sure it’s hard for you to believe that but I swear it’s tru
e.”

  “I think I changed something in the past already,” Samantha said, sniffling.

  “Really?”

  His voice sounded casual, but Samantha thought she heard a note of real concern in his voice. Concern he tried to hide but could not cover entirely. She got nervous all over again.

  “What happened Samantha? Did it have to do with your doctor visit yesterday?”

  “Yes, how did you know?”

  “I didn’t,” Neil said. “I knew you had some trouble at the doctor yesterday because your Dad called and told me. It was just a guess.”

  “I kicked a nurse when she was testing my reflexes. I was mad at her because she was so rude and my leg kicked out hard. I think it broke her arm. It’s hard to remember what actually happened for some reason. The nurse flew across the room. A few seconds later I got really dizzy and I passed out.”

  There was silence on her Grandpa’s side of the line and Samantha became sure she had done something terribly wrong. Her Grandpa was probably trying to figure out how to say it kindly.

  “I….I think you’re probably right Sam. I think you did change the past. But it isn’t your fault and don’t be thinking that it is. You haven’t had enough time to practice controlling your talent and you can’t be expected to do everything perfectly right away. What did you see that made you think you changed something?”

  Samantha was surprised and a little frightened, because her Grandpa did not seem to know what she had changed.

  “Why don’t you know Grandpa? Didn’t you feel it too?”

  “Um, no. When you do something that changes the past you’re the only one who feels the change and you are the only one who remembers the way it was before. And you only remember for a little while. Are you having double memories?”

  “I think so.”

  “That’s normal,” Neil said.

  “So you don’t know what I changed? But your whole life could be different now and you wouldn’t know it.”

  “Don’t worry Sam. I recognized what you were talking about right away, so my history didn’t change much at all. In fact, there was probably no effect whatsoever.”

  “I know there was at least one.”

  “What was it Sam? I’m surprised you noticed anything.”

  “Our next door neighbor, Mr. Henson, doesn’t limp anymore. And it’s weird, because I know, I remember, that he runs and doesn’t limp. But I also remember that he did and that he had an ugly old cane that he took with him everywhere. But that feels fake.”

  There was a long silence on the line again and Samantha stood there, biting her lip. Finally she couldn’t take the silence any longer.

  “I looked in your diary and there was nothing strange for that day, but then I realized that it probably changed too. I could almost remember that there was a line missing. So I started thinking that maybe nothing had happened but then I saw Mr. Henson walking normally and Marissa didn’t even remember that he used to have a cane and….”

  “Calm down Sam. I’m just trying to figure out what happened. You see, I knew Mr. Henson when we were both young. He lived in our neighborhood.”

  “He did?”

  “Yeah, but my friends and I never liked him much. Sometimes he would play football with us and we let him. His family moved across town when we all got to high school and we never really saw him much after that, until we moved into the house you’re in now. Turned out it was right next door to him. We never got along well as neighbors either.”

  Neil laughed. Samantha felt relief coursing through her.

  “Grandpa? Your diary said you were playing football that same day but it didn’t say anything else. If a line got deleted it was probably because you felt me draining you, right? Because you weren’t supposed to write about times you felt that.”

  “Probably Sam. I agree.”

  “Maybe Mr. Henson got hurt that day playing football with you guys. Maybe you were the one that hurt him and I stopped it from happening because you had to stop playing because you got sick.”

  “I think you might be right. In fact, I can almost remember a day when I did stop playing because I felt sick.”

  “So it actually turned out better,” Samantha exclaimed.

  Samantha heard the front door open and close.

  “Samantha,” Marissa called.

  “Hey Grandpa, Marissa is here. I probably should go.”

  “Do you want me to come over tonight? Do you want to talk about it anymore?”

  “If you want to. I feel a lot better now, though.”

  “Great! I may come by tonight. If I don’t I’ll definitely come by tomorrow after school.”

  “OK. Bye Grandpa.”

  She hung up and went to find Marissa, who was sitting in the living room looking downcast. Samantha sat down on the fireplace.

  “Mark can’t take a joke very well,” Marissa said.

  “What happened?”

  “I showed him the auto dialer but he got really mad. He said that Mr. Henson yelled at him and was going to come back later to tell his parents. He said he’d probably be grounded and they wouldn’t let him go to the Christmas dance.”

  “But that’s a couple weeks away,” Samantha groaned.

  “Well, I guess your Dad told Mark’s dad that they were throwing firecrackers at us in the bamboo and Mark and Cliff kind of got in trouble because of that. Why did you tell your Dad?”

  “I didn’t!”

  “Well, someone must have.”

  “Maybe he figured it out. I know he didn’t believe that kids were throwing firecrackers out behind the fence.”

  “Well, Mark said they didn’t get grounded because his Dad said there was no proof, but that they would get in trouble when the next thing happened. I can’t believe how mad he was at me. He was yelling.”

  Marissa ran her hands through her hair and then rested her chins in her hands and her elbows on her knees, looking at the floor.

  “Are you going to tell their Dad that you did it,” Samantha asked.

  “I don’t know. I should but then I’d get in trouble.”

  “I think you should.”

  “You’d rather I get in trouble than Mark? Why, were you going to ask him to the Christmas dance?”

  Samantha felt her face grow hot. Marissa was looking at her with a bitter expression on her face.

  “We covered up for them once, I guess,” Samantha said. “Maybe he will do the same for you.”

  “I doubt it. He doesn’t like me much anyway,” Marissa said.

  “I don’t want you to get in trouble either. What will your parents do?”

  “Oh, probably nothing but yell at me. Dad will be mad that I took the auto dialer without asking him if I could. But they won’t do more than that. You know how they are.”

  Samantha nodded, remembering the time they were caught with a pack of cigarettes Becky had found. They were in Marissa’s backyard, lighting them with matches from the kitchen even though none of them had been brave enough to try one. Marissa’s mother had walked into the backyard to ask if they wanted pizza for dinner, seen the cigarettes, and took them without a single word. Marissa said her Mom had never said anything about them to her. Samantha could only imagine what her parents would have done if they had found out.

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to tell their parents that I did it, what do you think,” Marissa said harshly.

  She flopped down on the couch in a display of exasperation and put her arm over her eyes. Samantha got up from her seat on the fireplace and looked out the window. It was getting dark but there was no sign that the Wilson’s had returned.

  “So you’re going to the dance, right,” Marissa asked.

  Samantha kept facing the window so Marissa couldn’t see the blush that refused to leave her features. She knew there was nothing to be embarrassed about but she couldn’t help feeling that way whenever Marissa talked about it.

  “Yes.”

 
; “I don’t know who I should go with yet. I could still go with Brian. I told him I didn’t like him but that just makes guys like you more.”

  Samantha sat back down on the fireplace.

  “Maybe for you,” Samantha said.

  “No. It works for everybody. My Mom told me all about it. You play hard to get and guys will like you even more. My Mom says that they always want what they think they can’t have.”

  “If you don’t go with Brian who else would you go with?”

  “It depends who asks me but Mink is kind of cute,” Marissa said.

  Samantha started giggling.

  “He is but you never know what he’ll do. He might dress up in another mink coat.”

  Marissa started laughing too.

  “If not Mink I might ask Cliff if he doesn’t ask me. Cliff and Mark are the two coolest guys in our class.”

  “Yeah,” Samantha said.

  “So are you going with Mark?”

  “I don’t know,” Samantha said shyly.

  “I know you like him Samantha. You can ask him if you want. My Mom said there’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “Maybe.”

  Car lights came through the drapes and illuminated the darkened living room. Both Samantha and Marissa looked up, startled.

  “Is that your parents?”

  “No,” Samantha said. “I think that is Mr. Wilson.”

  “Oh. Well, I guess I need to go turn myself in. Wish me luck.”

  “Good luck.”

  “I need to head home anyway. Are you going to school tomorrow?”

  “I think so, unless my Mom tells me I have to stay home again. I don’t think I could stand to be cooped up in the house again all day.”

  “OK,” Marissa said. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”