"Get off him!" one of the girls screamed and reached for Eve's hands.
Eve knocked the girl aside, while keeping one hand around the boy's neck. The girl landed a foot or so away and hit the concrete with an audible thud. This elicited more gasps from the crowd. Paying no attention to the girl, Eve brought her other hand to the boy's neck once more and observed the tears streaming down his rosy cheeks.
"She's gonna kill him," another boy exclaimed.
The words struck Eve like a brick, and she loosened her grip on the boy's neck. Another boy lunged at her not a moment later and reached for her hands to pull her away. Waves of anger still crashing over her, she grasped the boy's wrists and turned to face him. She was staring into the face of the boy who'd started it all, the one who'd shoved her and called her a freak. Still gripping his wrists, she rose up and he had no choice but to rise with her. As she stood face to face with him now, she marveled that he seemed so small and frightened.
"You really are a freak," he managed, grimacing as she tightened her grip on his wrists. A cracking sound followed, and he released a piercing scream just as she let go of his now broken wrists.
Eve wiped her wet cheeks and glowered at him. "Don't call me that again." She looked at the other boy on the ground—he was coughing and struggling to sit up. Glimpsing the terrified faces of the other kids, Eve wanted nothing more than to disappear. Anything to escape their judgmental stares.
"Where'd she go?" one of the pigtailed girls asked.
"She was standing right there," a boy replied. "How did she—"
"Disappear," said the girl Eve had knocked to the ground. "How did she disappear?"
Confused, Eve hurried away toward the school building where she ducked into the nearest restroom. She stopped at the mirror, hoping her face wasn't too bruised. How would she explain to her mom that she'd gotten into a fight and almost killed a boy?
She covered her mouth to silence the scream that escaped when she looked in the mirror. There was no reflection. She held out her hands in front of her but saw nothing. "How...?"
Footsteps approached.
Eve ran into one of the stalls and locked the door. She sat on the toilet, put her hands over her mouth, and cried silently.
As she opened her eyes and stared at the lake, she wondered about how different life might have been if she'd known other kids like her. Other kids with abilities. Kids who could disappear, who were stronger than other kids. What she'd have given to know she wasn't alone, a freak.
Soon she'd meet others like her, others who had probably spent their childhood feeling alien in a world not suited for their existence. Others who had been called freaks.
***
Eve stared out the window at the fields of corn, haphazardly placed billboards interrupting the monotony of the landscape here and there. Nibbling at her already chewed up nails, she tried not to think about the last time she'd passed through these bleak cornfields. To occupy herself and quiet her mind, she flipped through the radio stations in search of relaxing music that wouldn't remind her of home.
"So you're going to sit there and not say a word for the entire trip, huh?" asked Zoey, hastily merging into the left lane to pass a slow-moving minivan.
Eve stopped at a house music station and, bobbing her head, turned up the volume. "You know I've seen this DJ live? Just a year ago. He was amazing."
Without warning, Zoey turned off the radio. "Well, I'm glad to know you haven't gone mute."
Eve sighed. "What?"
"Look, I like a good weekend road trip, especially if it gives me a reason to spend more time with you."
"So what's the problem?" asked Eve.
"The problem is this isn't just a road trip, and you're being weird. Like, for instance, you haven’t mentioned anything about how your last week at the school went. Did the kids cry? Did you cry? Are you scared about starting the new job? And, yeah, why do you have me driving you out to Indiana?"
"I told you I need to pick up a few things," Eve said, biting the hangnail on her index finger.
Zoey chuckled. "The one thing you suck at is lying."
Eve gazed out the window. "You want the truth?"
"Um...obviously."
"Yes, I cried, and so did some of my kids. They even brought me cupcakes as a parting gift. And part of me is super scared that I fucked up and made a really bad decision because, honestly, what if all I’m good at is teaching? So, you want to know how my last week was? That’s how it was. Bittersweet.”
“Thanks for that. I don’t know why you have to be so weird about sharing your feelings sometimes,” Zoey replied. “Now, why are we driving to Valparaiso?”
“I don't know. I don't know why I asked you to drive me home. I was just—I was having a lot of thoughts last night, about when I was a kid, and I felt like I needed to come home. For some reason."
"So, this is a little trip down memory lane for you?" Zoey scoffed.
"No. Well, sort of. I want to pick up some of my belongings and Mom’s old journals."
Zoey laughed. "Wait. You got me driving your ass all the way out here for journals? You're lucky I love you."
Eve turned to her. "Love...?"
Zoey kept her eyes on the road.
Grinning, Eve kissed her neck and rested her hand on Zoey's thigh. "All these years and that's the first time—"
"With age comes wisdom. Don't go getting all sentimental," she interjected. She kissed the back of Eve's hand and winked at her.
“You know, I would drive you back home to Philly if you ever needed your own trip down memory lane.”
Zoey shook her head and laughed. “You don’t even have a driver’s license, and that’s like twelve hours compared to this one-hour journey into corn country. Anyway, you don’t have to worry about me ever wanting a trip back to Nightmare on Elm Street. No thanks.”
“Didn’t you tell me your mom was sick, though? Don’t you plan to at least check on her before she croaks?”
“It was a mild stroke. I’m sure she’s fine. Besides, she’s got my aunt to terrorize, so no need for me to be there.”
The venom in Zoey’s tone caught Eve off guard. “I know she was pretty awful, but I think even if my dad were dying I might pay the old bastard a visit, if only to tell him a piece of my mind.”
“Well, that’s the difference between me and you, I guess.”
“Damn. No offense, Zoey, but you should take some of your own advice as a therapist and deal with that anger.”
“Exactly what Gabe says.”
“Smart guy,” Eve said and smiled. As she turned the radio on again, house music flooded the small space of the Toyota Prius. She spoke loudly over the music. "Oh, I should warn you that my dad will probably be home."
Zoey lowered the volume. "Are you serious?"
"Yeah. I'm letting you know because he'll try to hit on you. Just prepare yourself."
"Jesus, Eve. You couldn't have told me earlier. Look at what I'm wearing."
She surveyed Zoey's leggings and loose but low-cut shirt that accentuated her large breasts. "If we're lucky, he'll be gone with one of his women, and we can get my shit without having to see him."
"All the things you've told me about him..." Zoey shook her head.
"Yeah, that's the reason I've never bothered to introduce you to him."
"Shit, man. You sure you don't want me to turn around?"
Eve shrugged as they exited off the interstate. "It's fine."
For several minutes, they rode in silence while Eve stared out the window, and Zoey cast her uncertain glances. At last, she lifted Eve's hand and kissed it again. "I really do love you. I'm sorry I never said it."
Eve's palms grew sweaty, and she closed her eyes. In under ten minutes, they would arrive at her childhood home. "I haven’t been back since my mom passed. I wish you'd met her."
"I'm sure I would've adored her."
"Yes, you would have," Eve replied as they turned down a gravel road.
***
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To their immense relief, Jackson Cooper wasn't home. But, realizing he could arrive any minute, Eve hurried inside the musky house and headed straight for the basement. "I'm surprised he hasn't changed the locks," she remarked to Zoey, who was trailing behind her. "Let's be quick."
Zoey had stopped in the hallway and was staring into the living room. "When's the last time he cleaned anything? Jeez. Does he do anything to keep the place livable?"
“Other than repairs here and there...no.” Eve observed the clothes strewn about the floor and the plates of half-eaten food on the coffee table. "Well, that explains the smell. Come on, Zoey." She proceeded to the basement door in the kitchen. As they descended the rickety basement stairs, Eve coughed from the swirl of dust and waved her hands in front of her face. There was just enough light to illuminate the room and prevent it from being pitch black. When they reached the floor, she felt around for the light switch behind the stairs and turned it on.
The first thing she noticed was all the dust coating everything in the room—the washer and dryer, her old bicycle, the railing of the staircase, and the boxes lining the walls. Cobwebs hung from the low ceiling. "Watch your head," she said to Zoey. "Last time I came down here, I was in college. I must've grown an inch or two because I don't think I ever realized how low the ceiling is, and with all these nails jutting out, just be careful. Look for a box that has two small X's on it, will you?"
For a while, the two of them scanned the boxes. Eve counted fifteen boxes, but none of them contained the X markings.
"Here are a couple of X's," said Zoey.
Eve hurried to her side, squatted, and tried to pull at the box, but it moved no more than an inch. With Zoey's help, they lifted the box and placed it on the floor next to the other one. Eve dusted off the box with one hand, while covering her nose and mouth with the other hand. She opened the box and stared at the old spiral-bound notebooks. “I packed up all my mom’s valuables and mine and put them down here after the funeral. I planned on picking them up once I had an apartment. But after I got settled and so much time passed, I decided I'd never come back to this place while he was here. It's amazing he hasn't thrown all this stuff away." Eve stood and looked around.
"Doesn't look to me like he or anyone else has been down here in ages."
"Jackson Cooper is a superstitious man. He probably felt like there was too much of her down here. I wouldn't be shocked if he thinks this place is haunted or some nonsense." She shook her head. "Let's take these two boxes and put them in the car. I don't think I need anything else right now."
"Is that box just her journals?"
"Yeah."
"Wow. She must've written a lot."
"She did write a lot, even poetry." Eve smiled. "Come on, help me lift this box, and let's see if we can get it up the stairs."
"Eve, what made you want to get these journals now?"
"Like I said, I was thinking about things, about my childhood lately. I guess. I don't know." They squatted to pick up the box but froze when a gruff voice came from the top of the stairs.
"Evelina? Is that you? What are you doing here?"
Eve closed her eyes for a second and inhaled before standing and turning her gaze to her father, a full-bellied man who was at least twenty pounds fatter than when she'd last seen him. "Yeah, it's me. I'm on my way out."
"Picking up a couple of your mom's things, I see." He descended the staircase, gripping the railing and fixing his light brown eyes on Zoey. "And you brought a friend," he said as he stopped near them. When he smiled, it didn't extend beyond his lips. Long ago, Eve had concluded that no one had a creepier smile than Jackson Cooper.
"Um, this is Zoey. Like I said, we were on our way out." Eve looked at Zoey's perturbed face and gestured toward the box. They both squatted again to lift it.
"I can grab that for you, young lady," said Jackson Cooper, looking at Zoey and winking.
Zoey and Eve took a step back, allowing him to pick up the box. They watched him make his way up the stairs, carrying the box on his shoulder. Anxious to get out of there, Eve picked up the lighter box containing clothes and mouthed to Zoey, "Let's go."
As she followed them up the stairs, Eve glanced over her shoulder at the cluttered basement. She thought about all the Saturday mornings she’d spent down there as a child, helping her mother do laundry and fold clothes. At times, they’d retreat to the basement and lock themselves inside to escape her father’s drunken episodes. During those moments, the basement had served as their safe space where they talked or played board games, anything to pass the time until they could return upstairs. Eve wondered when she might see this place again and have time to go through the rest of her mother’s belongings. She sighed. Probably when he’s six feet under.
***
Soothing electronica music flooded the room as Eve sprawled across the bed, three journals lying in front of her. She briefly shut her eyes, falling into the music, and bobbing her head to every percussive beat. When she opened her eyes, she looked at the journals.
"Annie, can you find me a song?" asked Eve, looking at the digital clock hanging on the wall next to the door. The clock flashed green.
"Sure. What song would you like to hear?" came the calming voice of the virtual assistant. Zoey had gifted her with the virtual assistant, which doubled as a clock, for landing the SPI job.
Eve was still trying to get accustomed to the device. "Something peppy?"
"Okay. Check out this station," said Annie.
When the familiar tune started, Eve smiled. "Pat Benatar is a strange yet logical choice, I suppose." She began humming the song and turned her gaze to the journals again. Still humming and not wasting another moment, she opened the journal dated 1994, the year before Eve was born.
It turned out to be rather dry reading...entries about Marie Cooper helping her parents fix things around the house, gardening, and ushering at the church. After about fifty pages of the 1994 journal, Eve wondered if her mother had been the dullest woman on earth. The most interesting entries involved detailed descriptions of the physical sensation of being pregnant and her awe of it. Eve noted that she seemed elated about becoming a mother.
Sighing, Eve decided to forgo the remaining 1994 entries and skip to 1995. She hummed to the Melissa Etheridge song playing as she sped through the 1995 journal. Similar to 1994, many of the entries focused on mundane daily activities, and she began to skim and yawn.
Over the next half-hour she finished two of her mother's journals, yawning and fighting sleep. She wasn't sure what she'd hoped to glean from the journals other than some hint that her mother knew of her ability. She had to have seen me use my abilities at least once. If she had, wouldn’t she have written about it? But the farther she read, the more she accepted that her mother never knew. Or, if she did, she took that secret to her grave.
With each entry she read, she could hear her mother's voice, the slow cadence, and the drawl. She figured that was all she needed from the journals. That was enough, perhaps.
When she glimpsed the clock and saw that it was past midnight, she closed the journal. Tomorrow was the big day—her first day at SPI—so a full night's sleep was of crucial importance. She gathered the journals and placed them in her nightstand drawer. Fluffing her pillow and tucking herself under the blanket, she stared at the ceiling. "Annie, set my alarm for seven tomorrow."
"You got it," replied Annie.
"Can you play music to help me relax and fall asleep?"
"Sure. Check out this station."
Classical piano music filled the room seconds later, and Eve turned off the lamplight.
Tomorrow her life would change. She still couldn’t decide if that was good or bad.
3
Eve's leg shook as she sat alone in the meeting room. All manner of thoughts were zooming around her mind. Had she dressed appropriately for her first day of training? Was a blazer suit too much? Perhaps she should have ditched the jacket and heels. How many other people, othe
rs with abilities, would be participating in the training? Her heart raced, and her mind buzzed with possibilities.
When the door opened, a tall woman wearing a bright smile entered and sat, leaving one seat between herself and Eve. Not missing a beat, she turned to Eve and extended her hand. "Hi, I'm AJ Taylor."
Eve shook her hand, surprised by the firmness of her grip. "Eve Cooper. Are you a trainee?"
"Yeah, it's a pretty exciting opportunity, isn't it?"
Eve leaned closer and spoke in a hushed tone. "Do you mind if I ask...how did you find out about the job?"
"Oh, that hot agent contacted me with an offer. I mean, I thought she was full of shit at first, but when she told me more, it sounded like an awesome job. Like my destiny or whatnot, cheesy as it sounds."
Eve chuckled. "I know what you mean."
"That agent—"
"Agent Yu?"
"Yeah," AJ replied, "what do you think?"
"What do I—"
"I can't get a good read, but I'm thinking she's family."
"Oh," Eve said, smirking. "Yeah, I'd say so."
"Good."
"Huh?"
"Means I've got a shot," AJ replied, chuckling and punching Eve's upper arm. “Nah, I’m joking. She’s not really my type.”
Eve rubbed her arm and shook her head. "How old are you? I'm guessing this is your first job...look, let me give you some solid adult advice: avoid office romances. They only lead to awkwardness and sexual harassment accusations."
"You only live once," said AJ, glancing toward the door as it opened. "So how many trainees do you think there are?"
Eve shrugged. "No clue. I'm still trying to deal with the fact that there are others like me."
AJ moved into the seat next to Eve. "You didn't know there were others? I mean, I knew one other person with the ability—this loner kid in high school. I saw him go invisible once, and it blew my mind. It was a relief to know there was another person like me. He hid it from everyone, so I had to keep his secret. That’s kind of how it was...you find out you can do this crazy thing and then you realize it’s probably best to hide it from most people because you can’t be sure how anyone will respond to it. So I guess I can understand how you never knew there were others. But...wow. Not one?"
Eve and the Faders Page 4
