Gift of Death (Gifted Book 1)

by Lin Augustine

  I turn back to the two boys, who are silent now—Remington almost done dealing with his mess and Hunter digging through his backpack on the chair.

  “Do either of you guys know where I can get… like clothes and stuff?” I say.

  “Go talk to Elise tomorrow,” Hunter says. “She’s the supervisor of Cabin 1, but she’s also in charge while Li is away.”

  “And don’t forget to come to the game,” Remington says, finally done moving all his clothes from everywhere to the drawers.

  “Sure… A game. Sports. So fun,” I say.

  “Do you have anything else to do, Miss No Hobbies?” he says.

  “Well, I apparently need to find Elise. That’s something.”

  “Elise will be at the game. All her kids are on my team. So, all the more reason to come, right?” He smiles.

  I smile back, as pained as I can make it. “Okay, fine. I’ll go. So Hunter, will you—?”

  “Me? Nah. I’m on kitchen duty in the morning. Washing dishes,” he says, almost happily.

  “Lucky you,” I say.

  “I can lend you some clothes for now,” Remington says.

  “Are they clean?” I ask, climbing the ladder up to the bed.

  “Some are,” he says.

  I think about all the clothes he just stuffed into his drawers without any thought, probably mixing the dirty ones with the clean ones.

  “It’s fine. I’ll just get some tomorrow,” I say.

  “Suit yourself,” he says.

  I haven’t laid down in a bed in months. I’ll just lay down for a bit and then take a nice, hot shower. I guess I’ll have to put back on these dirty clothes though, for tonight.

  Up on the bed, I can see all the beds have thin white sheets and a small pillow each. Both Hunter and Remington’s beds aren’t made. I lay down on top of the made bed. It’s kind of hard, but so, so wonderful.

  “Hey, Chrys,” Remington says from somewhere below. I can’t see him. “Now that you’re here, you can pick up some hobbies, don’t you think?”

  “Why are you so obsessed with hobbies?” I say.

  “Because hobbies make a well-rounded individual. Plus, you’ll have a lot of free time here. Might as well get good at something. Isn’t there something you’ve ever wanted to try?”

  I shrug, but it’s not like anyone can see, so I add, “I don’t know. I guess… I heard my mom used to be a seamstress. That might be interesting to learn I guess.”

  Mom. Someone I hardly knew, hardly even met. My first casualty.

  “Uh, Chrys,” Hunter says, “you okay?”

  I sit up in bed. The ceiling is still a far way off above me. From here, I can see the two of them down below. Remington is sitting at his desk with the desk light on, hunched over something. Hunter is standing near my bed.

  “Yeah,” I breathe out. “Fine.”

  Chapter 10

  I walk to the field, shaking off my grogginess. The game has already started. When did I even fall asleep last night? I didn’t get a chance to take a shower but I might as well wait until I get some fresh clothes.

  The crowd is separated by the field, sitting on the grass across from each other, but there doesn’t seem to be a certain side for each team. Everyone cheers no matter who scores. There aren’t that many people—maybe just ten or fifteen people on each side. Elise shouldn’t be too hard to find.

  Two kids run past me to the field. One looks back at me and yells to the other, “Oh man, close call with the Grim Reaper!” They both laugh and continue to run around the field, to the opposite side.

  I sigh and shrug it off.

  I reach the side of the crowd closest to me and look around. What does Elise even look like?

  “Hey, Chrys!”

  Valeria waves at me from a few feet away, sitting on the ground at the edge of the audience. She gestures for me to come. Some kids sitting near her look over in my direction.

  I go over to her and sit down. The kids get up.

  “Hey Val, why’d you bring the Grim Reaper over here?” one of them says.

  They all laugh and walk toward the other side of the field.

  I ball my hands into fists. It’s been—what?—less than a day and there’s already a nickname?

  “Don’t worry about them,” Valeria says.

  “I’m not worried,” I say.

  “No one actually hates you, you know that?” she says, eyes on the game in front of us.

  I watch her, but don’t say anything.

  “Many of us have deadly powers,” she continues, “and have harmed our fair share of people. It’s just that… well, you’re new. Haven’t had anyone new in a long, long time.”

  “Yeah, and I feel very welcome here,” I say.

  She laughs and turns to me, shielding her eyes from the sun behind me. She looks like she hasn’t slept in days. “Don’t let it get to you, okay? It’ll probably fizzle out in a couple days—a week tops.”

  “Is that something you know for sure?”

  “Kind of. It’s also kind of a guess. I’m just… piecing together the information I do have.”

  “So you don’t have all the info?”

  “Maybe you know this, or maybe you don’t, but a gift doesn’t work on the one who has it.”

  “Yeah, I know that.”

  “So, I can’t see anything that involves me. There are just like… gaps.”

  “How much exactly can you see?”

  “Ah, well, if I told you that, then I’d be telling you what my gift is, wouldn’t I?”

  “You’ve practically told me everything already.”

  “Oh really? So you’re saying, based on what I’ve told you, you know what my gift is?”

  “Uh… you can… see the future?”

  She laughs.

  Everyone cheers so she turns back to the game.

  “Am I right?” I ask.

  “Kind of, kind of not,” she says. “It’s not that easy. There’s a trick.”

  “What kind of trick?”

  “Something that shouldn’t be possible.”

  I narrow my eyes at her. She has a sad smile on her face as she looks at the game, but doesn’t really seem to be watching it.

  “Well,” I say, “if I recall correctly, you told me that everything seems to be possible with gifts.”

  She nodded and said in a low voice, “Yeah. It seems like there are no limits. It’s scary.” She closes her eyes. “Do you ever wonder how many gifts are out there exactly? Is there a fixed number, just circulating around, or are new ones created every day? Where did they even come from? Do you ever wonder about that?”

  “I usually just wonder why I had to be one of the ‘lucky’ ones.”

  She opens her eyes again. “Is there some kind of criteria? Of all the babies born in that moment, is it just random, or is it… fate?”

  “I was hoping the people here would kind of know the answers.”

  She shakes her head. “We don’t really know anything. Anything at all…”

  The ball rolls near us. A boy in a black jersey and shorts with flames on them runs over. As he bends over to get the ball, he looks at me.

  “Put your hands away, Grim Reaper,” he says. “You tryna kill us all or something?”

  Before I can say anything, he runs back.

  Valeria is just sitting there with her eyes closed. She looks unaware, at peace almost.

  I turn back to look at the boy and huff. Whatever. It doesn’t bother me. Doesn’t bother me at all.

  *Yeah, keep telling yourself that.

  The thought is in my own inner voice, but it feels… different somehow. Foreign.

  Valeria…? I think.

  *Nope.

  Uh… Telepathy?

  *Yes.

  Cool. Can you
get out of my mind?

  *Can you stop thinking so loudly?

  Sorry. I’ll try.

  Valeria chuckles, eyes still closed.

  “What’s so funny?” I say.

  “Oh, it’s just… uh, you and Elise. It was kind of funny.”

  “Elise?”

  “Yeah, the lady in your thoughts? It was Elise. She’s the supervisor—”

  “Of Cabin 1. In charge while Li is gone. Yeah I hear,” I say. “So she’s telepathic? That must come in handy when dealing with kids.”

  Valeria suddenly opens her eyes wide. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry,” she says quickly, like she’s tripping over herself. “I shouldn’t have told you that. I shouldn’t—”

  She gets up.

  “Valeria?”

  “I’m sorry,” she says, and runs away, towards the cabins.

  Whatever that was, I doubt Valeria would want me to chase after her and confront her about it. I go back to my thoughts.

  Hey, Elise?

  *What?

  Where are you? I need to talk to you.

  *About the clothes? Sure, I can arrange something.

  I look around. Who is it? Everyone looks engaged in the match or in chatting with others around them. No one looks like they’re lost in their thoughts. I return to my own.

  Is it okay if we meet in person? This mind thing is kind of strange.

  *Do you know ASL?

  ASL?

  *Sign language?

  No…

  *Then we’d have to talk like this anyway. Unless you want to write everything down and I’m not a fan of that. Too slow when you can just think, you know?

  Ah okay…

  *By the way, check the board in the Main House lounge. I’ve put you on laundry duty this afternoon.

  Fantastic…

  *I’m waving at you.

  I look around again. A woman across the field is waving. She’s sitting with that man that Remington called Shikoba yesterday—the man who brought him here. All I can see from here is blunt cut black bangs and a bob just past chin length. She’s in a yellow sundress with a white daisy pattern that reveals her olive arms and legs.

  *Meet me here after the game.

  I feel an emptiness in my mind, like she’s not listening anymore. She’s looking at Shikoba, so maybe she’s talking in his mind now.

  I stare at the kids playing, trying to make sense of it. Most of all, trying to figure out when it’ll be over. But I have no clue. And it’s almost noon now because the sun is beating down on me overhead. I wipe some sweat off of my forehead and list out the things I need to do, the things I need to get from Elise. It keeps me busy for a while.

  Then, a huge cheer. People standing up.

  I look around. Remington is surrounded by his team. They’re all hollering and laughing. The other coach is patting a crying kid on the back, and the rest of his team is cleaning up the field. They must have lost.

  The crowd disperses, so I head over to Elise and Shikoba.

  “Uh, hi,” I say.

  She smiles and waves.

  “Chrys,” Shikoba says, “it’s nice to meet you.” He has a deep voice that sounds like it’d be perfect for narrating a nature documentary.

  He takes one of my hands in both of his and squeezes gently.

  “I was honored by your bravery last night,” he says.

  I pull my hand away, heart pounding. “Uh, thanks, I guess.”

  “It is okay,” he says. “You are in control.”

  “Yeah, but I remember when I didn’t have any control, and that scares me,” I say, surprising myself. Where did these words come from?

  He nods solemnly. “Yes, remembering… It can be more painful than the moment itself. There are things I, too, wish I could forget but I can’t forget anything, not even the tiniest detail. So, at the very least, you can feel grateful that you don’t remember it exactly as it happened.”

  He looks at Elise and nods.

  “I’m afraid there’s work to be done,” Shikoba says. “Good day, Chrys.”

  “Uh, sure. Good day,” I say.

  He heads toward the building where I met Li yesterday.

  *Follow me.

  Elise starts walking in the opposite direction of Shikoba. I follow.

  *Memory.

  What?

  *Shikoba’s gift.

  Oh. But plenty of people have a photographic memory, don’t they?

  *Sure.

  Then how is he different?

  *The laundry room is in that white building over there. There are a lot of clothes in there. I’ll show you which ones you can take.

  The change in topic is jarring. Did she not hear what I asked or is she just ignoring me or something?

  *The second one.

  Great. Thanks.

  *Any time.

  We arrive at the white building and go inside. The air smells divine, like buttery pastries.

  *Food is made in here. Most wake up really late so we only serve brunch and dinner. Brunch is usually between ten and one, but today it’ll go until two because of the game. Dinner is from five to eight.

  We walk through the kitchen into another room. There are four washing machines stacked two by two on one wall and four driers on the other wall. Two of each are whirring and shaking. It’s deafening. In the middle of the room is a large wooden table with ten boxes of clothing on it and hampers surrounding the tables. A shirt from one of the boxes is lifted up, spread out for a moment, then thrown down into one of the hampers on the ground.

  I turn to Elise, shocked, and shout over the machines, “You-you guys have magic here? How is that happening?”

  Elise laughs. It’s like a high-pitched chirping. She points.

  I turn back to the table. Now, there’s a short, stick-thin boy standing there with skin almost as dark as his huge afro, and a gloomy look in his eyes.

  “Sorry man,” the boy says. He goes back to moving the clothes into the hamper.

  I start to wonder what just happened, but Elise pushes aside my thoughts with her own.

  *The clothes in that red box next to the driers are free for the taking. Darius will show you what to do. Have fun.

  Elise starts to leave.

  Oh, wait, Elise. I also need some toiletries and a phone charger and—

  She doesn’t turn back, but as she walks through the door, she sends another thought.

  *Next to the laundry room, there are two storage rooms. The one with food is locked but the one next to it should be open. It has basic necessities. You can take what you need in there. If you don’t find something, then we don’t have it.

  Then I feel that emptiness again, like she’s tuned me out.

  I go over to the boy. “Are you Darius?”

  “The one and only.”

  He talks in a low monotone that I have to strain to hear over the machines. I would have expected something like that to be said with some sort of humor or arrogance, but he said it blandly, as if he were just stating a dull fact that’s common sense.

  “I’ve already started the sheets and towels,” Darius says. “The clothes here are separated by cabin. We wash each separately. You just gotta go through the box and look for stains. If you see any, put some detergent on the stain and rub it in a bit. Then stick them in the washer. Then a little break as they wash. Then the drier. Another break. Then we put them back in the box. Later, someone from each cabin will come get their box. I’m doing Cabin 1 now so you get started on Cabin 2. There are numbers on the sides of the boxes.”

  “Oh, sure,” I say.

  I look through the boxes until I find the one with twos on it. I push the other boxes aside to make some room and bring one of the hampers on the ground closer to me. I start going through the clothes.

 
“Hey, do you mind if I turn this off?” Darius says.

  “Turn which off?” I say, glancing at the washers and dries on both sides.

  “My visibility. It’s exhausting to keep on and I didn’t get much sleep last night.” And more so to himself, he adds, “Damn level took so long to beat.”

  “Huh? What are you talking about?” I say.

  “Well, I was playing the new—oh wait. Not that.” He shakes his head quickly, like he’s trying to clear his mind. “I’m invisible naturally. I can make myself visible but I have to focus a lot on it. It takes a lot of energy. That’s what you were asking about right?”

  “Oh… Yeah. You can turn it off or whatever.”

  “Thanks.”

  I look over and there’s an empty spot where he is, only the clothes moving visible. I remember now that that’s what I wanted to think about before Elise invaded my thoughts.

  “So the things you touch don’t become invisible?” I say.

  “I can make things invisible through touch but it takes even more focus and energy. Only the things I’m wearing that touch my skin directly become invisible without any effort, but it can’t be too loose or bulky.”

  “So you were born like that? Invisible?”

  “Yep.”

  His hamper is dragged to the washing machine and the clothes go into the bottom washer.

  I continue sorting through the clothes, imagining what it’d be like to give birth to and take care of an invisible baby. How did they do it? Maybe they kept him wrapped up in tons of blankets all the time so they knew where he was.

  Then, I imagine what it’d be like to go to school, having to focus on remaining visible the whole time. Everyone probably knew. It must have been impossible to keep his gift a secret.

  Back in the foster home and in school, no one except Ron even knew I was gifted. I could pretend to be normal. I liked that.

  No more clothes in the box. There were no stains either. I wait for Darius to get out of the way, then I bring the clothes over and put them in the top machine.

  “I’m gonna go get something to eat real quick,” I say, hoping it isn’t past two yet.