by Sarah Noffke
It’s mostly just a choice. Life doesn’t make most of us any certain way. We wake up, and usually without knowing it, act in a way that fits our personality. Nothing made me the way I am. Not really. Things colored me. Persuaded me. But no experience is responsible for making me hostile. It’s just the way I prefer to be. Also, who I am is a result of something inside my bones. Probably a monster who feeds off my unhealthy behavior. I’m not a victim of circumstance. I’m a man who believes that the best strategy involves being extremely cynical and even more conniving. And if there’s one thing I’m more excellent at than all the other things, it’s strategy. I’m a bloody master at it. Hell, I’m fairly certain God takes notes out of my book. He should. If he knows what’s good for him.
I brought my eyes up to meet the therapist’s gaze. I’d made a great show of putting real emotions on my face. My bottom lip quivered a bit. My eyes were filled to the brim with fake tears. And when I opened my mouth an actual croak happened out. “It’s my sister, Lyza,” I wailed. “She abuses me. She abuses me badly,” I sang.
“Your older sister, Lyza?” Dr. Simon said, sitting forward, almost knocking the pad off his thin lap.
“That’s right,” I said, furiously nodding my head. “The one due to graduate early this year and with an acceptance to Oxford. That one. But what you don’t know is she does things to me,” I said, putting a look of shameful hurt on my face.
“Don’t you worry, Ren,” Dr. Simon said, leaning forward, placing a hand on my shaking arm. “We won’t let her hurt you any longer.”
Truth be told, Lyza only hurt me with dirty remarks and cold stares. But Lyza had told our mother since she was thirteen that our mum was no better than a servant in our house. She had despised our mum for being a Middling and I in turn despised Lyza. And now I was going to make her pay for every hurtful thing she did to our mum. See, the thing is, when Ren gets in trouble, so do other people.
I allowed the doctor’s hand to linger on my forearm. Now was probably not the time to tell this homosexual that I didn’t quite enjoy his touch, but definitely go and cart my sister away for abusing her little brother. I grabbed one more thought out of the doctor’s head before he slipped his hand away. That one thought was enough for me to know that the punishment Dr. Simon saw for Lyza would fit the bill until I could up the ante.
Chapter Two
An oppressive wind swept across my face when I exited the shrink’s office. He was already busy calling my parents, then the vicar, and finally the academy. After the abuse I alleged my sister Lyza did to me, all the authorities would be brought in to intervene. It was only her first mark on her pristine record. Overdue really. The way I saw it I was actually doing her a favor. Everyone needs a charge or two on their record, otherwise they look too perfect. No one likes perfect people. And Lyza might have looked fabo on paper and therefore like quite the catch for the universities. However, anyone who actually met my snobby sister wouldn’t assign the characteristic of “perfect” to her. “Overcompensating” maybe. Or “faking it.” Not “perfect.”
One reason, on the long list Lyza would never be considered perfect, was she had the same red hair I did, a violent shade resembling the sirens on ambulances. Thanks to inheriting our mother’s Irish genes, we would never be considered pretty people. Interesting yes. But giraffes are interesting. Unique. Eye-catching. However, no one wants to snog with a giraffe. Poor Lyza had to depend on her brains to get anywhere. I, on the other hand, had too many ways to overcompensate for my startling red hair and almost neon green eyes. I might have looked like a different race of human, but what most judgmental Middlings who took double looks at me didn’t realize was that I am one. I’m a special race of human. A Dream Traveler. And not only that, but if I so desired I could turn their revulsion into lust. If so inclined, with a few hand movements and a well-placed thought I could make almost anyone do anything. I’m obviously a genetic mistake, because no human should have powers like mine.
I threw a smug look at the monstrosity of a church as I strolled by. Then I tossed a salute in its direction. “Thanks for really bodging me up, God,” I said. I’m a monster for sure. Too much power. No conscience that I know of and an unhealthy obsession with abusing my God-given talents.
“Who are you talking to?” a boy propped against a tree in the church yard said. Jimmy was chewing on a long straw of grass. His forgettable brown hair was lying flat against his forehead, obstructing one eye.
“You’re going to get hand, foot, and mouth disease,” I said, walking up to him and yanking the grass out of his mouth and throwing it to the ground with disgust. “For God’s sake, if it wasn’t for me you’d get yourself bloody killed, for sure.”
He gave me a sly smile under his knit cap. “Without you I’d get myself in a lot more trouble, but that’s only because I’d actually get caught.” He kicked off the tree. “Thanks for covering up my involvement with the Bentley.”
“Well, it’s not like you were to blame,” I said, continuing my walk down the pothole-riddled road. “You’re not even talented enough to be a bloody sidekick. You’re just a blasted tagalong.”
Jimmy had been in the car when I wrecked it. It was probably his bloody fault it happened since he had been laughing like a stupid hyena the entire time. He was red-faced and doubled over by the sheer thrill of stealing a Bentley and barreling it through town. Jimmy was a Middling. He couldn’t dream travel and his only gift was that he was one of the few people I could tolerate. Actually he was a pretty entertaining chap. Most don’t appreciate my wry humor and abrasive, endearing nature, but Jimmy had always cherished it. We’d been friends since nursery school. And he was the only person besides my family who knew I was a Dream Traveler with some dangerous skills.
Jimmy was actually there when at ten years old my powers came to me. Still remember that stupid grin on his face when I pulled my first prank on Lyza. He had no idea what I was capable of. Neither did Lyza. Imagine her surprise when I threw weak punches into her shoulder. Then I spouted her most intimate thoughts, sitting on the top of her mind for the three of us to hear. Before that moment, it had never been voiced that Lyza fancied Jimmy, thought my parents should put me in boarding school, or that just that afternoon she picked one of her boogers and wondered if it was still stuck under her fingertips. As soon as she figured out I was reading her thoughts she ran to the opposite end of the house and locked herself away. Lyza has never allowed me to touch her since then, which doesn’t matter because I have no interest in her thoughts. They’re like stale peas in an aluminum tin.
“So did you get away with it?” Jimmy asked, trotting beside me, a mischievous glint in his dirt-colored eyes.
“What do you think?” I said with an indignant huff.
“They’re not doing anything to you? You got off scot-free?” Jimmy said in astonishment.
“Absobloodylutely, just like every time before,” I said, through a long, bored yawn. “Why do you look so surprised?”
He kicked up some dust on the old road. God forbid the mayor actually pave our roads. Hell, why even have roads when we were outnumbered by sheep five to one in that blasted town.
Jimmy shrugged at my question. “I don’t know. I just figured one day your luck would run out. That you’d find someone you couldn’t manipulate with your mind.”
The thought had crossed my mind. It had actually strangely intrigued me. The idea of finding someone who could stand up to me and challenge me was actually an exhilarating notion. So far I had yet to encounter a person who I couldn’t brainwash or read or hypnotize. There were those who were more resistant, like my pops, but still if I was heavily motivated I could break his opposition. Peavey, the town where I lived, was small though. I was certain when I ventured into London I’d find people who’d make me actually strain, even if just a little.
“I can’t control sheep,” I finally said to Jimmy. “Those bloody animals don’t do a damn thing I want.”
Jimmy laughed. “What do you
want them to do?”
“Jump off the bloody edge of the fucking earth,” I said, meaning it.
Another laugh. This one a little nervous. “Say, Ren, do you ever use your powers on me?” Jimmy asked, appearing to be taking a great effort to not look at me.
I slapped him on the shoulder, careful to keep my hand on the clothed part and not touch his exposed bicep. I didn’t want to read any of his thoughts. I was certain they’d make me sad, pity the poor chap. “Oh no, I don’t have any interest in wasting my powers on you,” I said, a laugh in my voice. “This is when I have the awful burden of informing you that you’re my friend because your soul is as black as mine. It’s not because I’m making you be my friend. And besides, I don’t want to know what demented rubbish streams through your tiny brain, so I never read your thoughts.”
Jimmy let out a relieved sigh. “All right, well, then what’s our next stunt?” he asked, giddy excitement in his voice.
The exasperated breath made my lips drum several times against each other. Sure I had a dozen or more crafty ideas but what was the bloody point? They mostly felt like a repeat of the last trick. Different victims. Same trick. There were only so many tricks to play on a repugnant town the size of Peavey. One school. One church. One inn. One pub. One market. Pops moved my mum there when they decided to start a family. He wanted to protect the Dream Traveler children he knew they would bear. That’s how he said it. But what he meant was shelter. He wanted to shelter us. And later he admitted that once I came into my powers he was grateful for the decision.
“Think of the kind of trouble you’d cause if we lived in London,” he told me more than once.
I only smiled inside. I was dying to discover the trouble I’d cause in a big city. Yes, I spent most nights dream traveling to London, Montreal, New York. Wherever I desired. But it was different in dream travel form. No one could see me. I couldn’t manipulate people when I wasn’t in their dimension. I needed to be in physical form to really experience the potentials.
And yet I feared that no matter what I’d always grow restless. I feared that over time the city would bore me. It’s hard to be content when you can have anything and do anything. Most would think that I’m a god with every reason to be happy. But I’m a mistake God made. Too much power doesn’t create happiness. It steals it. To have it all means there’s no struggle and without having to pay a price, nothing has value. I wasn’t gifted with powers. I was cursed with them.
Chapter Three
Jimmy and I parted ways at the Gretchens’ farm. The cottage I shared with my family was on the edge of town. It wasn’t enough for us to live in a town that shared one brain cell, we had to live on the edge of it. Living in the town’s center would obviously have been too exciting. We’d probably have stayed up a full hour after the evening meal. The traffic of the two or three cars that passed through town might have kept us up all bloody night.
I left the front door open after I walked through. The old house had a musky odor that no matter how much Mum cleaned it never disappeared completely. Even though we didn’t own farm animals their smell still seemed to infect our residence. Oh, the charm of rural living. People think it’s romantic. Wholesome. Inviting.
It’s shit.
Literally, it’s shitty living. Animal waste was everywhere in that town. It was like our bloody currency. It’s ever a wonder that Peavey got any attention for its pungent cheeses and grains. We should have been known for our manure-laced air and shit-caked shoes.
When I strolled into the house, Mum lowered her chin at me and regarded me with a disapproving stare under her short red curls. She’d been chopping onion. Deliberately she laid the knife on the chopping board beside the pile of onions and tried to make her stare menacing. Still I spied the sliver of a smile under her false exterior. My mum was always smiling. Even angry she’d have a smile hiding close to her surface emotion. “Renny…” she said, a quiet warning in her tone.
“Yes, Mum,” I said, batting my red eyelashes and giving her an innocent look.
“Did you give Dr. Simon the impression that your sister Lyza physically threatens you?” she asked and although I knew she was trying to hide her amusement, it was still prickling through. She really should have gotten better at acting. Would have helped us all out against the green-eyed monster, also known as Lyza.
From the back hall there were thunderous steps against the ancient wood floors. My sister blazed into the living area, coming to a stop next to my mother by the kitchen island. She threw a shaking finger at me. “He told Dr. Simon that I’ve made sexual advances at him.” Her face flushed into a ridiculous shade of red which clashed awfully with her severely straight red hair, pulled back too tightly in a high ponytail. “He said he’s caught me watching him undress and that I also stand over his bed at night. They think I’m at risk of being a pedophile!”
With a blank expression I shrugged. “Oh, is that how the good doctor misconstrued my words? Hmmm,” I said, stroking my chin. “That’s awfully strange.”
“Ren!” Lyza screamed at the top of her lungs. “You knew damn well what you were doing!”
“Lyza,” Mum said in a low tone. “Please lower your voice and refrain from using foul language under my roof.”
Lyza whipped around to face our mum, who had calmly resumed chopping an onion. “Lower my voice!” she screamed even louder. “I have sessions with Dr. Simon now.”
“I think I’ve just done you a favor, you do have an awful temper,” I said to my sister as I brandished a grin. “You’re welcome. A little anger management will do you a load of good. Might even make you tolerable, although I doubt it.”
“This isn’t fair!” Lyza yelled. “He has to be stopped. He brainwashed that doctor into thinking that I’m incestuous. That I’d harm my stupid baby brother. Now I’m on academic probation.”
Mum wiped her hands on her apron. “Oh dear, Renny,” she said, pinning her plump hands on her hips. “Are you really responsible for this? Tell me exactly what you did.”
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but before I had a chance Lyza wheeled in our mum’s direction again. “How can you be so calm? You know what your little psychopath is capable of. And now I’ve got to spend a revolting amount of time sharing my secrets with a damn Middling. Those people aren’t good enough to cook my meals,” she said, angling to the pot of boiling vegetables on the stove. “And now this revolting Middling will get to hear my thoughts. I’ll need real counseling after this,” Lyza said, the look of heartbreaking disappointment on Mum’s face not even registering with her.
With a calm resurgence, Mum threw her large shoulders back and raised her chin. A twitch of a smile touched the side of her mouth. “I think what you meant to say, Lyza, is that you misunderstand the Middling race, is that right?”
Too much patience. Mum always had too much patience for everyone. Me. Lyza. The bloody locals. She should have told us all to go to bloody hell ten times over. But she never did.
“No, that’s not what I mean, Mary,” Lyza said to our mum. She hadn’t called her “Mum” since she came into her Dream Travel gifts and realized Mum was a Middling. Lyza narrowed her eyes at our mother and then reached out and pushed the cutting board and the vegetables on it to the ground. Dozens of tiny diced onions sprayed onto the ground, sending a pungent odor through the small cottage. “What I mean is that if you don’t soon get a leash on your little Renny then that psychopath is going to cause real trouble, and not the kind that you can get the vicar to cover for. You may not see it but he’s trouble. He may be powerful, but he doesn’t need coddling. He’s in need of a heavy hand. When are you going to see that?”
“For all the king’s men,” my pops said, walking through the open door, closing it behind him. “I can hear you clear on the other side of Peavey. What’s got your knickers all mussed up this time, Lyza?” Tall and lean, my father made his way across the house in a few strides. Gently as ever he leaned over his daughter and touched her shoulder. She s
oftened, but only slightly.
“Ren,” she said through clenched teeth.
Pops turned and surveyed me. Raised a curious eyebrow in my direction. “Ren, what have you done now?”
“All right, well, I might have told a fib about Lyza watching me bathe,” I said. “But to be quite honest I read her thoughts that one time and know she’s curious about the male anatomy.”
“Boys tell fibs!” Lyza screamed again. “What he’s doing is abusing his powers and you have to make him stop. He made Dr. Simon think—”
“That you’re an abusive little witch,” I said, cutting her off. “Was that wrong? Do you not throw Mum’s food back in her face every chance you get? Don’t you make side remarks to Pops about how he’s a prat for marrying a Middling? And don’t even try to play the innocent card by pretending you haven’t wanted a one-off chance with Jimmy even though he’s three years younger. That does make you a bit of a perve, doesn’t it? And isn’t it a bit hypocritical that Middlings aren’t good enough to make your food, but you’ll entertain the idea of snogging one?”
I knew that would do the trick and right on schedule Lyza lunged for me, but my pops, who was all arms, reached out and pulled her back before her claws caught me. “Now, now,” Pops chided in a soothing tone. “Lyza, I think you need to take a few steadying breaths.”
With her pale arms locked in his grasp she shuddered out tattered, angry breaths and regarded me with a cold stare. “You,” she snarled. “One day, I’ll make you pay.” Then she skirted her eyes around my features and her eyes perked up. “Actually, I won’t have to. For all your talents you’re still going to end up miserable and alone. I’m sure of it.”
