by Laura Emmons
Mrs. Donnelly had explained, this was a small school in a rural community, but they still managed to offer the important things. I’d still have a good chance of getting into a decent pre-med program in college. The only thing I’d really lost was choir.
“Well, I can help you catch up in one class,” he said encouragingly.
“Which class?”
“We’re both taking Psychology.”
***
After lunch, Evan helped me find Pre-Calculus. He told me he’d wait for me by the flag post after seventh period and he’d drive me home. I had no idea which bus to take or where to get it. In Santa Monica we all rode the Blue Bus. As students we received free passes, but we used the same mass transit system as everyone else in the city. Riding a school bus was going to be a transition.
***
I left AP Physics and went straight out the main doors. When the doors opened, I was carried along in a current of students all crisscrossing each other at top speed trying to get on their particular buses. Craning my neck to look over the sea of heads for the flagpole, it was a surprise when Evan came up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder.
“Hey,” I said, relieved.
“Hi. You ready to go?”
“How’d you find me so fast in this crowd?”
“I scanned for your aura. It was easy.”
I looked at him, dumbfounded.
He shrugged and said, “Go ahead, take a look around, you’ll see what I mean.”
I opened my Healer vision and did as he’d suggested. There were clusters of gold here and there; it seemed kids from the clan tended to hang out together, or perhaps they all lived in the same neighborhoods since almost everyone was sorted into their buses now. Several of the teachers and a majority of the staff had magic. About half of the bus drivers were also in the clan. My gaze swept around back to Evan. I understood. Evan’s aura glowed with a brilliance that outshone everyone else’s. That’s why Healers and Seers were at the top of the pecking order. Our magic was just stronger than other professions.
I nodded. “I get your point.”
“Good, can we go now?” He tilted his head off to the right.
I looked in that direction. My Healer vision was still open. One person stood next to a car in the far end of the parking lot, staring at us. Gold and purple and brown emanated from the person. I turned off my vision and spotted a petite woman with short black hair with a purple stripe painted down one side of it.
“Is that Madison?” I said, shocked.
“Yes,” he replied, grimly. “She’s here almost every day, watching me leave.”
“That’s just creepy,” I said, shaking off a shiver running down my spine.
“Tell me about it.”
***
When we got back to the happy, yellow house, things were not so relaxed. I could feel the tension in the air even before reaching the kitchen.
“Corey, OhmyGoddess! What happened?” Corey sat at the table.
Rose put together an ice pack for his left eye.
He didn’t answer.
Evan answered for him. “He got in a fight with one of the Wallace boys walking home from school.”
“The guy’s an air hole,” Corey complained.
“Corey!” I chastised him, shocked. “Watch your language! Why would you get in a fight?”
Again, Evan did the talking. “The Wallace boys have always been a problem. This one said something inappropriate about your mom. You threw a great punch, by the way. He definitely deserved it.”
Corey tried to grin at the praise, but grimaced in pain instead.
“Are they Deputy Wallace’s boys,” I asked, curious.
“No, they’re definitely not from his part of the family. I suppose they’re distant cousins of his. They live near River Road and shouldn’t have been anywhere near Corey’s walk home, unless they waited for him. Next time, let him throw the first punch.”
I gasped in shock. “You threw the first punch? What on earth did he say to you?” I couldn’t imagine what would make my brother start a fight.
“Don’t tell her, dude,” he growled at Evan. “Or I’ll tell her what I know, and good luck keeping your promise, by the way.”
Evan’s attitude toward Corey instantly switched from admiring to antagonistic. “Keep out of my head, Corey,” he said with a hint of menace.
“Likewise, dude. I can’t help it, you know. We have something in common that links us together.” He glanced pointedly to me. Then he turned to Aunt Rose. “Can I go lie down in my room until dinner?”
She nodded.
Before he left the kitchen, carrying his ice pack he lamented, “The worst part about the fight was that they picked on me because they thought I have no magic. If they only knew what I could do, they’d be afraid of me!”
Evan kept staring at the spot where Corey had stood for several moments after his departure. Finally he said, almost to himself, “That kid’s got too much magic for his own good. We’re gonna have to get him trained as soon as possible. He’ll have to be taught in secret, of course, like you.”
I agreed. The sooner Corey learned to control his gifts, the easier it would be for him. The last thing we needed was an over-stressed, grieving, pre-pubescent boy with unimaginable powers described only as ‘the Destroyer’. I looked at Rose. “So, aside from the trip home, how do you think the rest of his day went?”
She shrugged. “When I left him, things were going pretty well. It turns out sixth grade is pretty much the same all over the country. The subjects were the same at least. He seemed to be farther advanced in the material covered this year, but Santa Monica schools are ranked as one of the best in the nation. Morgan County schools aren’t as good. He was talking to a few Roman kids in his class, and getting along with them. I had no idea this was going to happen.”
Evan spoke, “Now that I think about it, we should have anticipated something like this.”
“What do you mean?” Rose and I both looked at him.
“Our solution to protect him made it look like he has no magic. Rose, you know how non-magical children are treated in the clan. They’re thought of as second-class citizens, like they are less than everyone else. That’s why they almost always move away as soon as they’re old enough.” He looked thoughtful for a few seconds. Then he said, “Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do.” Evan had gone into council member mode. I could see why he intimidated other people. The waves of authority rolled off him. “Rose, you call Deputy Jimmy. I have his home number if you need it. Explain what happened today. Ask him if he could patrol Corey’s route home tomorrow. If Jimmy has a talk with those boys, my guess is they’ll leave Corey alone. Maggie, you talk to Corey. Suggest to him that he try to make friends with the Romans. He can see auras, so just tell him to talk to the kids who don’t have any gold. I’ll talk to my mom. She knows all of the kids because they visit her at the library. I’ll find out which ones are in Corey’s grade at Warm Springs. I’ll ask her to contact their parents and see if these kids can’t make a special effort to include Corey in their activities. If he’s surrounded by people who like him, the kids who are bigoted against non-magic folks will be less likely to cause trouble.”
“Corey won’t like your interceding on his behalf. He’ll want to make friends on his own,” I said understanding my brother well.
“If we play this right, he’ll never know. Corey can’t see his own future, remember?”
Chapter Thirteen
Testing
I’d barely had time to find my place in each class in respect to its syllabus and textbook when all learning stopped for a week of state-wide standardized testing. I didn’t worry about how I’d do on the tests. California had the most difficult standardized educational tests in the country, and I’d always done well on them, but it was disorienting.
At the same time, Fiona and Evan’s mom, Jenny, had decided the time had come to determine the extent of Corey’s and my magical abilities. They’d wor
ked out a schedule between us. After school on Mondays and Wednesdays, I went to Fiona’s store and worked with her in the secret room. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I went to the library to work with Jenny. Corey had the opposite schedule.
On Saturday mornings I took driving lessons using Aunt Rose’s sedan at the Eastern Panhandle School of Driving.
***
It was after 4:30 in the afternoon when I reached the secret room. The beautifully painted, Chinese sliding panel doors stood unlocked, but closed. I knew better to walk in the room unannounced. Fiona might be treating a patient. I carefully knocked first.
“Enter,” she called from the other side of the panels. I slid one open and ducked inside, closing it behind me. Rose lay on the exam table. For a moment, fear washed over me. Don’t let her be sick too, I silently prayed.
“Don’t worry,” called Fiona from across the room. “Rose has offered to be our patient for today. Come and stand over here.” As I approached, I let out a relieved breath and offered another silent prayer of thanks.
“Okay, let’s try scanning first. You’ve seen me do it many times. Hold your hands over her body and try to imagine what’s going on inside of it.”
“I can see from here she’s in perfect health.” I could scan and diagnose many times faster with my healer vision than a typical Healer might with their hands.
“Yes, but you won’t be able to heal people with your gaze. You have to get used to using the energy in your own life force through your hands if you’re ever going to heal people magically.”
“That’s a good point. Okay. I’m holding my hands over her. Now what do I do?”
“All right,” Fiona covered my hands with hers and directed me to a place over Rose’s stomach. She took her hands away.
“Feel the energy flow through you to Rose. Clear your mind and think of nothing else but her stomach. Try to see what’s going on inside her body.”
I did as she instructed. No energy radiated through my hands. In the past, Fiona had used my life energy to amplify her own. I knew the sensation of having energy coursing through me into another person. It tingled and hummed all at the same time. I tried focusing my mind, concentrating hard. Still, no magic flowed. I dropped my hands and stepped back. “What’s wrong with me?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Fiona said crisply. I could tell she was disappointed I didn’t take to energy-touch therapy as quickly as I’d acquired my healer vision. She continued, “Normally a girl your age would have spent more than a decade at her great-aunt’s side watching and learning. You’ve only been at this for six months, and worked with me for a mere three of those. Let’s take a step back. Why don’t I give you some visualization exercises to practice?”
Visualization exercises, I thought, that’s pre-school level for magical people. I sighed and let her show me the meditations, hoping that Corey fared better at the library.
***
Later, as I got ready to walk back to the house, I overheard Fiona and Rose talking in her office.
“Do you think she lacks the Healing Hands gift?” Rose asked nervously.
“No, that’s not possible, or I wouldn’t be able to pull energy from her to amplify my own healing abilities. She’s probably got an emotional block caused by all the stress she’s been under lately. It’ll come to her, in time.”
“Will it come soon enough to save us?”
“There’s no way to know that.”
***
By Friday, I was sure my head would explode. The WESTEST at the school wasn’t hard; I’d learned the material in every subject, but I had to concentrate for hours to pull it all from my brain. Jenny made me memorize all the possible aura colors and their meanings. I wasn’t half Poet with a great memory, so I had to concentrate for her as well. I still practiced visualizing the flow of energy down through my body to my hands for Fiona.
Basically, I was brain-fried. Pulling on a pair of ratty sweatpants and a tank top, I threw myself on the couch with every intention of watching mindless television until I turned into a vegetable. Then Evan walked into the den. Did he have his own key? He certainly never bothered to knock when walking into Fiona’s cabin. It seemed like he was just as casual in this house. I refused to move and looked at him from my sprawled position.
“What?”
He didn’t answer right away. He stared slack-jawed at my position on the couch. Specifically, he stared at my tank top. That’s when I remembered I hadn’t bothered to put on a bra.
“Evan,” I snapped at him, a little too sharply.
He closed his mouth. “Huh?”
“Why are you here?” I enunciated each word carefully. Then, since he still didn’t catch my drift, I added, “I’m up here…my eyes, they’re up here.” I motioned with the remote to my face.
“Oh yeah, sorry,” he ran a hand through his hair. Damn him, we’d agreed to be friends. His reaction violated our agreement.
I repeated my question.
He pulled himself together. “Come on, get dressed. We have someplace we need to go.”
“No,” I groaned, “it’s Friday. I’m tired. I just want to sit here and get stupid.”
“Not tonight you don’t. I went through a lot of trouble to arrange this. Go put on real clothes. Make sure they’re warm, ‘cause it’s snowing again.”
Snow was a new concept for me. Everyone said we’d been lucky not to have too much of it this year, but I’d been disappointed. I pulled myself off the couch. Snow was worth the effort of getting dressed.
***
Evan drove so we wouldn’t have to walk after dark, but we only traveled a few blocks before he parked behind the First Presbyterian Church.
“Why are we going to church?” I asked. It wasn’t even our church.
“You’ll see,” he replied, cryptically.
He helped me walk across the snow-covered gravel parking lot, but when we got to the brick path running alongside the church, he veered me in the other direction. We entered the Fellowship Hall and stamped the snow out of our boots. Then he led me down the stairs to a classroom in the basement.
“Evan, thank you for coming tonight,” a kindly faced woman with graying hair and wire-rimmed glasses greeted him. “And this must be Maggie; it’s so nice to meet you.” She held out a hand.
I shook it tentatively, looking to Evan for explanation.
“Mags, meet Susan Anderson. Oh,” he said, reaching into the breast pocket of his jacket, “take these, you’ll need them.” He handed me a few folded pieces of paper.
I opened them. “They’re sheet music. Why?” I noticed the room housed a piano, a few music stands and a couple of chairs. I looked more closely at the music. “Hey, this was my audition piece for Valkyries Choir last year.”
“I know,” he replied simply. “Your mom videotaped your audition, and e-mailed it to Rose who gave it to me. Corey found the music in your bookcase.”
Susan looked at me expectantly.
“I don’t understand.”
Evan took the sheet music from my hand and gave it to Susan who took it over to the piano.
“Did you want to warm up?”
“You want me to sing?” I asked, flabbergasted.
She nodded, “that’s why we’re here. Didn’t Evan tell you? I’m the director of the Sleepy Creek Youth Chorale. We’re part of a non-profit company called The Community Choir, Inc. We promote music in Morgan County.”
She looked pointedly at Evan...So did I.
He grinned from ear-to-ear. “You said you missed being in the choir. Here’s your chance to be in another one.”
I thought about it and shrugged. Not having anything to lose. Susan walked me through a couple of vocal warm-up exercises. Then I gave her a few minutes to look over the music. When she was ready, I took my place by the piano. Standing straight, opening my diaphragm, I didn’t need to see the music. I’d performed this piece many times.
As the air flowed through my lungs and past my larynx, I relaxed.
Singing made me feel free. Closing my eyes, I let the words flow. My voice was an endless wave on the open ocean, undulating with the terrain of the sea bed of music. This was better than mindless TV. Even my headache had disappeared by the time I’d finished.
“Well, you weren’t exaggerating, Evan,” Susan said after the last note had faded away. She turned to me. “Welcome to the Sleepy Creek Youth Chorale, Miss Stewart. We meet in the great hall of this building every Tuesday at 4:45 PM. We perform at least five concerts a year. You’ll need to get a copy of the music for this season and a uniform.”
“I’ll make sure she gets straightened out, Ms. Anderson,” Evan nodded.
“Since you’re here, Evan, why don’t we run through your solo?”
“Sure, why not.”
I walked over and took a seat. Evan hadn’t told me he sang. Jerk. Ms. Anderson flipped through a manila folder on the top of the upright piano until she found the music she sought. She played ascending scales, five notes at a time, raising a half step with every repeat of the pattern. Evan took a deep breath and started warming his voice.
I stared fixated with drool pouring out of my mouth. Dang, the boy could sing. I’d guessed he sang baritone. I had a soft spot for them. I sang alto, and considered the deeper voice a better complement to my own.
He started to sing his solo, an old Celtic ballad. His voice was as clear as bells. He had a natural vibrato that resounded with every long tone. It reminded me of standing on top of a mountain at sunrise. His singing was like the autumn wind blowing red, gold and orange leaves of musical notes around like whirling dervishes. I felt like I was melting into soppy goo right there in my chair. Evan was going to have to scrape me off the floor and carry me back to the Jeep in a plastic bin. I didn’t even notice when he and Ms. Anderson stopped occasionally, discussed an intricate detail of his performance, and continued to rehearse. When they’d finished and he walked over to collect me, I wondered if my legs would carry my weight.
