by Morgan Rice
Oliver felt bad for her. As terrible as his own home life and upbringing were, he had deep compassion for anyone who’d had a tough time.
He thought about how all the children at the school had been alone, taken from their families to train. At the time, he’d wondered why none of them appeared lonely or homesick. Perhaps it was because none had come from happy homes. Perhaps there was something about being a seer that set them apart from the rest, that made their parents wary, their homes unhappy.
Esther looked up at him then. “Your real parents. Are you sure they’ll accept you as you are?”
Oliver realized then that he hadn’t even thought about it. They’d given him up in the first place, hadn’t they? What if they’d been so terrified of their peculiar baby they’d dumped him and ran?
But then he remembered the visions in which his parents had come to him. They were warm. Kind. Inviting. They’d told him they loved him and that they were always with him, watching, guiding. He was certain that they’d be pleased to be reunited.
Or was he?
“I’m sure,” he said. But, for the first time, he was not so sure. What if this entire quest was ill conceived?
“And what will you do once you find them?” Esther added.
Oliver pondered her words. There had to have been some good reason as to why they’d given him up as a baby. Some reason they’d never come to find him. Some reason why they weren’t currently in his life.
He looked at Esther. “That’s a good question. I honestly don’t know.”
They fell into silence, the train gently rocking them back and forth as it cut through the landscape.
Oliver looked out the window as the sight of historic Boston came into view. It looked wonderful, like something from a movie. A swell of excitement overcame him. Though he may not know what he’d do when he found his real Mom and Dad, he couldn’t wait to find them.
Just then, the announcer’s voice came over the speaker.
“Next stop: Boston.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
As the train pulled into the station, Oliver felt his chest leap with excitement. He’d never traveled before—the Blues never went on vacation—so being in Boston felt very exciting.
He and Esther alighted from the train and headed into the very busy station. It was grand-looking with marble pillars and sculptures dotted about the place. People in business suits whizzed around speaking loudly into their cell phones. It all felt rather overwhelming for Oliver.
“Right, it’s two miles to Harvard University from here,” he explained. “We need to head due north and cross the river.”
“How do you know?” Esther asked. “Does your compass give directions too?”
Oliver chuckled and shook his head. He pointed to a large brightly colored map hanging against the station wall. It showed them all the tourists spots, including Harvard University.
“Oh,” Esther said, blushing.
As they left the station, a gentle autumn breeze stirred the fallen leaves on the sidewalk and there was a hint of gold in the sky.
They started to stroll in the direction of Cambridge.
“It looks very different than in my era,” Esther commented.
“Really?” Oliver asked, recalling how Esther came from the 1970s.
“Yes. There’s more traffic. More people. But the students all look the same.” She smirked. “Brown corduroy must be back in fashion.”
There were indeed many college students walking along the streets, looking purposeful with their books in their arms. It reminded Oliver of the kids at the School for Seers, who were always rushing some place with serious, studious expressions on their faces.
“How do you think everyone is back at school?” he asked. “I miss them.”
He thought of Hazel, Walter, and Simon, the friends he’d made at the School for Seers. But most of all he missed Ralph. Ralph Black was the closest he’d come to having a best friend.
“I’m sure they’re doing just fine,” Esther replied. “They’ll be busy with class. Doctor Ziblatt was just starting her astral projection classes when I left.”
Oliver’s eyes widened. “Astral projection? I’m sorry to be missing that.”
“Me too.”
Oliver heard a hint of melancholy in Esther’s voice. He wondered again what had propelled Esther to follow him here. He felt like there must be more to the story, something she wasn’t telling him.
They reached the bridge that crossed over the Charles River. It was bustling with college students. In the water below they could see rowboats, canoes, and kayaks. It seemed like a very lively and vibrant place.
They started to walk across the bridge.
“Has your compass changed at all?” Esther asked.
Oliver checked it. “No. It’s still showing those same four symbols.”
Esther held her palm out and Oliver handed it to her. She inspected it with a look of awe. “I wonder what it is. Where it came from. I’m surprised Armando didn’t know, since he’s an inventor.”
“I think it’s seer technology,” Oliver said. “I mean, only the universe knows the timelines and can guide someone along them, so it must be.”
Esther handed it back to Oliver, who placed it carefully into his pocket.
“I wonder if Professor Nightingale will know,” she said. “You did say he was a seer, didn’t you?”
Oliver nodded. He was curious about the compass, and even more curious about meeting Professor Nightingale.
“Do you think he’ll know anything about your parents?” Esther asked.
Oliver felt a little lump form in his throat. He swallowed. “I don’t want to get my hopes up. But all the signs are leading me here. So I’m optimistic.”
Esther grinned. “That’s the spirit.”
They reached the end of the bridge and headed along the main road. The traffic was very busy here, so they took one of the many side alleys that ran parallel to it.
They were only halfway along the alley when Oliver noticed a group of boys, a little older in age than him and Esther, lingering together in the shadows. He felt an instant stab of danger.
As he and Esther got closer to the group, the boys suddenly looked up and fixed their eyes on them. They began to nudge each other and whisper, clearly talking about Oliver and Esther. Their mean glares made it obvious they weren’t friendly.
“Uh-oh, looks like trouble,” Esther said, clearly having spotted them as well.
Oliver recalled the bullies he’d dealt with back at Campbell Junior High. He didn’t feel anywhere near as daunted approaching the kids as he once would have been. But he felt Esther draw closer to him. She seemed intimidated.
“Nice overalls!” one of the boys sneered.
The others began to laugh.
“What are you?” chimed in the next. “A chimney sweep or something?”
Oliver kept his eyes averted. He hurried his pace. Beside him, Esther did the same.
“Hey!” the first boy shouted. “I’m talking to you!”
Suddenly, the group surrounded them. There were five boys in total, forming a circle around Oliver and Esther. Esther looked extremely stressed by the situation.
“Please,” she whispered to Oliver under her breath. “No fighting. I don’t think my shield is strong enough for five.”
But Oliver was calm. He’d seen Esther’s strength. And he had his powers, too. Between the two of them, no one could hurt them. No mortal, anyway.
Oliver kept his chin high. “Excuse me,” he said, politely. “Please let us through.”
The main boy, the tallest of the bunch, folded his arms. “Not until you empty your pockets. Come on.” He held his palm out. “Cell phone. Wallet. Hand it over.”
Oliver stood his ground. He spoke in a cool, determined voice. “I don’t have a cell phone or a wallet. And even if I did, I wouldn’t give them to you.”
From beside him, Oliver heard Esther’s voice, barely above a whisper. “Oliver. Don’t
provoke them.”
The main boy barked out a laugh. “Oh really? Then I’ll just have to get them myself.”
He went to lunge for Oliver.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Oliver said.
Immediately, Esther cast out one of her shields, providing a barrier around them. The boy slammed into it. He looked confused. He tried again, lunging forward. But the impenetrable barrier stopped him, like bulletproof glass.
“What are you waiting for, Larry?” the third boy goaded. “Get him!”
“I can’t,” Larry stammered, looking increasingly confused. “There’s something in the way.”
“What are you talking about?” the fourth boy asked.
He, too, launched himself forward. But he slammed into Esther’s barrier and let out a grunt of pain.
Oliver looked over at Esther. She was doing brilliantly, but he could see the strain on her face as she tried to hold the barrier in place. He needed to do something to help.
Oliver retreated into his mind, visualizing the wind whipping through the fall leaves, turning them into tornados. Then he pushed the image outward.
At once, the fallen leaves began to swirl. Columns of wind went up into the air, twirling into tornadoes. Oliver conjured five, one for each of the boys.
“What’s going on!” Larry yelled, the wind making his hair fly wildly all over the place.
Oliver concentrated. He strengthened the winds with his mind, then pushed outward.
In an instant, the boys were battered by the flurry of leaves. They attempted to bat them away, swatting with their arms as if they were being attacked by a swarm of bees, but it was no use. Oliver’s tornadoes were far too strong for them.
They turned and ran for it. The winds were so strong, they tripped more than once.
Oliver grabbed Esther’s hand. She was giggling.
“Come on. Let’s take a different route.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Harvard University was an impressive-looking place. The architecture was beautiful, with lots of tall red brick buildings and turrets. There was a large grassy yard, surrounded by cafes, bars, and bookstores.
“How will we find Professor Nightingale?” Esther asked. “This place is huge!”
Oliver fetched the book Ms. Belfry had given him. He turned to the author bio on Professor Nightingale and read aloud.
“Professor H. Nightingale is a fellow of Harvard University’s Physics Department, where he conducts experiments in the Science Center’s historic Farnworth Laboratory, along with his small team of brilliant PhD students.”
Esther pointed ahead to a building on the other side of the yard. “There. That’s the Science Center.”
Oliver put the book away. They hurried across the grass and headed up the steps toward the building. Standing at the top was a security guard.
“Visitor ID?” he said brusquely, holding out his palm.
“Visitor ID?” Oliver repeated. He started to pat his overalls pocket. “Oh… hmmm. Now where did I put that?”
“Here!” Esther suddenly said.
Oliver watched as she took something from her pocket and handed it to the guard. He realized she must have used her powers to alter something to look like a pass. He hoped she’d done a convincing enough job.
But the guard looked at it with an unimpressed expression before handing it back to her.
“A real one, missy,” he said. He sounded very bored, like a couple of kids trying to sneak into a library was little more than an inconvenience to him. “Not this fake thing.”
Oliver racked his brains. Esther’s attempt to create a credible-looking ID card had failed. He’d have to think of another plan.
He glanced about for inspiration and saw a trash can just the other side of the steps. Quickly, he used his powers to make smoke come from it.
“Oh no! I think the trash can is on fire!” he cried.
The guard quickly ran to attend to it. Oliver and Esther took their chance and ducked inside the building.
“Good thinking,” Esther said as they hurried through the corridor.
It was a bit like a maze inside. It reminded Oliver of a hospital rather than a laboratory, other than the strange chemical smell, of course.
They stopped beside a sign that showed which floor each of the different disciplines occupied.
“Physics Department,” Oliver said, pointing. “Top floor.”
They trudged up the staircase. A long corridor stretched ahead of them. Gold plaques with the names of professors and lecturers were affixed to each door. They began to walk along the corridor, reading the names.
“Here he is,” Esther said.
Oliver turned to see her standing by a door. Professor H. Nightingale. His heart began to race. Was he about to get the answers to his questions?
Oliver swallowed his nerves and knocked.
Nothing happened. It remained completely silent. He tried again.
Again, there was no answer. Oliver looked over at Esther. She shrugged and boldly tried the handle.
“It’s not locked,” she told him.
She pushed the door and it swung all the way open. The room was completely empty.
Oliver gasped. “Oh no. He must not be here anymore.” He felt a horrible leaden sensation in his stomach as disappointment gripped him.
“Don’t worry,” Esther said. “We’ll track him down.”
In the corridor behind them, a professor was walking past. Esther turned.
“Excuse me. Do you know where we might find Professor Nightingale?” She pointed to the plaque on the door.
The man didn’t even slow his brisk pace. But he did reply, speaking over his shoulder as he hurried onward. “Nightingale? He hasn’t worked here for years. Not since he was kicked out.”
CHAPTER NINE
Oliver and Esther exchanged a glance.
“Kicked out?” Oliver repeated, his heart sinking. “I’ll never find him now.”
Esther shook her head. “We’re not giving up that easily. Come on.”
Esther marched across the yard and into one of the coffee shops that surrounded it. There were computers at the back. She took Oliver right over to one.
“Um, Esther, I think you’re supposed to buy something? You can’t just come in and use the computers for free.”
“Okay. A chocolate brownie would be nice.” She took her seat and grinned up at him. “Thanks.”
Oliver went to the counter and bought them a brownie to share. By the time he made it back to Esther, she was already scrolling through a website of local people.
“N… Night… Nighting…. Here. Nightingale!” She grinned at Oliver. “There’s only one in Cambridge. It must be him!”
She quickly scribbled the name and address down. “Told you we weren’t giving up.”
Then she stood, grabbed the brownie from the plate, and marched to the door.
Head spinning from the speed with which Esther worked, Oliver blinked at the crumbs lying on the plate.
“Oliver!” she called from the door. “Come on!”
Oliver dumped the plate on the counter and hurried after her.
*
The address Esther had found led them to a quaint side road right beside a quiet park. The streets were cobblestoned, looking like they belonged in the Victorian era. The houses were more like country cottages—all made of brick and built in a long row, with stone facades.
They stopped opposite the house. It had a wooden door with green paint that was peeling, and an overgrown rose bush growing up beside it. Just behind the branches and flowers, a faded sign read Professor H. Nightingale.
Esther and Oliver exchanged a glance.
“Here goes nothing,” Oliver said.
He knocked.
A muffled voice called out, “Coming.”
Oliver glanced at Esther nervously. She gave him a reassuring nod.
They heard the sound of a latch clicking, then the door slowly creaked open.
A figur
e shuffled into view. He was very old with a wiry white beard. His eyes appeared to be misted over. He was wearing a brown corduroy cardigan.
“Yes?” the man asked in a raspy voice.
Oliver’s throat felt thick with nerves. “My name is Oliver. This is my friend Esther. We wondered if we might be able to ask you some questions.”
“Questions?” the old man asked. “Not another survey. I’ve already answered enough of those.”
He went to close the door on them. Oliver held his palm out to stop it from being closed. He spoke with a voice that sounded far more confident than he felt.
“It’s not a survey. I’m looking for someone. Someones, actually. My parents.” Oliver took a breath to steady his nerves. “I have reason to believe you might know them.”
The man’s eyes searched Oliver’s face. Oliver could tell he didn’t have good vision by the way he squinted.
“Your parents?” he said in a croaky voice. “What makes you think I’d know anything about that?”
“I’m a seer,” Oliver blurted.
The old man paused. “A seer?”
“We both are,” Esther added.
The man looked from one to the other. “Both of you, eh?”
They nodded in unison.
The professor reached for the watch on his wrist. He unhooked it with shaking, wizened fingers, then turned it over and held it out to Oliver. There was an inscription on the back. A ring with three eyes.
The symbol of the School for Seers.
“You’d best come in,” the professor said. “I’m sure we have a lot to talk about.”
CHAPTER TEN
It was very dark inside Professor Nightingale’s house. All the curtains were closed. A near-blind man had little use for opening them, Oliver supposed.
Oliver sat very straight-backed on the armchair. Then he heard the door open and in came Professor Nightingale and Esther with a tray of tea.
