Flicker Blue 2: Jigsaw

by Brea Nicole Bond

  Chapter II

  Cris’s Notebook

  Jane looked up from the paper, placed her pencil down on her desk, and exhaled for what seemed like the first time in about half an hour. I’m finally done. For three months, I’m finished with school. Her English exam was complete; it hadn’t been half as difficult as she’d expected, but her anxiety had made it difficult for her to focus as she waded through the pages of essay questions. Any teacher with a soul would have made the final a multiple choice test, or at least short answer! Well, it’s done now, anyway. All she had left to do was turn it in.

  Jane ventured a peek at her classmates, craning her eyes as far as possible without moving her head. She didn’t want to give anyone the impression that she was cheating. In every row, she saw her fellow students stooped over their test papers, either scribbling furiously or screwing up their faces in concentration. She couldn’t see Cris behind her but knew from the rhythmic scratching of graphite on paper that he was still toiling away at the essays. Near the front of the room, Anna was chewing the end of her pencil, deep in thought. Nobody else was finished yet.

  Oh, crap, Jane thought. Although she knew that she was being silly, she really didn’t want to be the first to turn in her paper. She picked up her pencil and pretended to continue working, all the while watching the clock. As soon as somebody else finishes, I’ll turn mine in, too.

  Five minutes later, not one student had risen.

  When five more minutes had passed, Jane gave up. She stood, sweeping up her stack of papers, and placed it in the center of the teacher’s desk, where he had asked for them to turn in their completed tests.

  “Jane, you’re not giving up?” Mr. Andersen whispered, genuine concern present in his voice.

  “No. I’m done.”

  “Ah.” The teacher had taken a red pen to Jane’s test before she resumed her seat in the third row. Jane laid her head down on the desktop and spent the remainder of her sophomore year of high school pretending that she couldn’t feel Mr. Andersen’s eyes scanning over her.

  Because it was the last day of exams, the students were released at midday. The mood was light on the ride home, despite Jane’s embarrassing moment in English. She listened to Cris give play-by-play details of both of his tests—he seemed positive that he, too, had done extremely well.

  “How about question four, huh? I mean, if he wanted that much detail, he should have just assigned a term paper. Anyway, I’m glad you did well on your exams, Janie. You deserved to, after all the study time you put in. You almost had me convinced that you were going to bomb the English final, but it’s good that your hard work paid off.”

  Jane kept her eyes on the road. “Yeah, it almost paid off too well. I hate attracting so much attention to myself.”

  “Poor baby, you just can’t help it,” he teased. “Hey, are you coming with me to Josh’s party tonight? It should be fun—everybody’s going, and I promise we can hide in the corner all night if you don’t want anyone to see you.”

  Still teasing. “Sorry, Cris, I’ve got a…thing.”

  “What, like a date?”

  “No—nothing like that,” she said as they pulled into the driveway. A white landscaping truck was parked on the street in front of the house, and the lawn and shrubs had been manicured to perfection in the few hours they were at school. The yard looked like a picture from a magazine.

  “Whoa. What’s going on here?”

  Okay, so no one’s told Cris about the dinner party. I know that he isn’t invited, but it hardly seems fair not to tell him about it. “Um, Uncle Mederick is having a party here tonight.”

  “You have to stay for it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do I?”

  “No.”

  “Can I? I’d rather be with you, even if that means a stuffy old person party.”

  “No.” Jane was afraid to say more, though she herself didn’t know much more than the smidgeons of information she’d already shared.

  They had parked in the garage, but Cris remained in the passenger seat while he thought. Abruptly, his eyes grew dark. “Oh, damn! This is a party for people like—like you and Dr. Sylfaen! People who can do things! Why can’t I come?”

  Jane unfastened her seatbelt before she replied. “I don’t know.” She got out of the car and headed for the door into the kitchen.

  Cris was less than two steps behind her. “Ah, come on, Janie. I wouldn’t be in the way. This is so much better than a stupid high school party! I didn’t know there were more than the two of you. I mean, I always thought that he was the only one, until you…you know, which was really pretty ridiculous because, think about it, if there are two, of course there could be more, you know? Please, please invite me. I’ll do anything you ask me to.”

  “More than two what?” Cris’s ramblings had begun to untangle a realization in Jane’s mind, as if his words were unraveling one of the threads in the knot of confusion, but he’d resumed pleading before she could make sense of the sensation.

  “Huh?”

  “You didn’t know there were more than two of what?”

  “I don’t know. People with extra powers, I guess. Like traveling the way you can, or….” Cris stopped. Judging by his expression, he’s already said too much. He eyed the walls suspiciously, as if he expected someone to pop out and apprehend him.

  “Or what?” Of course! Cris knows about Uncle Mederick. That’s why he stayed so cool about me when I teleported in front of him. Well, not cool, exactly, but he didn’t run away in terror, either.

  “I don’t know. Forget it. Please, can I come?”

  “No. Have a wonderful time at your stupid high school party, though. I hope it’s a real blast.” She knew, as she stalked into the kitchen, that she’d been harsh, but she continued up the stairs to her room. Serves him right for not confiding in me, anyway. It’s not like he has half the excuse that I have—I would tell him everything if I could. She sat down hard on the foot of her bed, scowling and imagining what a tremendous a relief it would be to be able to share her burden with her best friend.

  Jane awoke to a light rapping on her bedroom door. She hadn’t meant to doze off. I guess I didn’t realize how tired I was. I wonder what time it is….

  “Jane? Come to the door, honey!” called a voice from behind the door.

  “Come on in, Angelita.”

  “Jane! You haven’t even started to get ready yet! Here, your godfather had me buy you a dress for tonight.” She handed Jane a bundle of silk that she had carried into the room draped over one arm. “I hope you like it.”

  Jane stood and held the dress up in front of her, revealing its shape in the vanity mirror. It was a simple dress, solid navy in color and about knee-length.

  “It’s really…pretty.” It seemed a little on the conservative side, but it wasn’t unattractive.

  “I thought it would suit you. Now, get dressed while I take care of some things downstairs. I left your shoes in the closet, and I’ll be back up in about twenty minutes to help you with your hair.”

  “Oh. Do I have time to take a shower?”

  “If you need to. But please hurry. Dr. Sylfaen wants to see you before the guests begin to arrive.” She left on that note, abandoning Jane to her thoughts and her new silk dress.

  Jane descended the stairs slowly, in part because she was unaccustomed to the heels on the shoes Angelita had chosen for her, but mostly because she was becoming more nervous by the second. Until her brief conversation with Cris (Or was it an argument?), she hadn’t really considered that she may very well be meeting other people with strange gifts like hers. None of them would be able to teleport, of course, because Jane felt sure that her godfather didn’t personally know anyone else with her particular talent, or else he would not be so intent on interrogating her about the details of teleportation. Still, they would have abilities. Jane had the impression that she was about to be presented to some bizarre club as a prospective member. How much will their appr
oval of me matter? Do they have to like me—to accept me? Can they help me find out what is happening to me?

  All at once, Jane stopped on the staircase. The Everwords! She chided herself for not realizing it sooner—she’d been so distracted by the trip, and exams…. Of course the Everwords are like us. That’s why they’re coming back tonight. Jane bit her lip, hopeful that the other guests proved to be more agreeable. Then again, she didn’t think she would mind an eyeful of Evan.

  Stop it! She straightened her posture. Tonight, she was determined to be on her very best behavior, as she couldn’t risk offending anyone who could get in the way with her quest for answers. Or making an idiot of herself.

  She was surprised to see Cris waiting at the bottom of the staircase for her. “Janie, don’t be mad. I’m not staying, and Dr. Sylfaen asked me to find you. As soon as I tell you what I’m supposed to, I promise I’ll leave for my own party. I won’t get in your way.”

  “Cris, I….” Jane wasn’t sure how to respond. She wasn’t sorry, but an apology seemed to be in order.

  “It’s fine. Really. I get that we can’t share everything with each other, and I don’t want for us to fight about that, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “By the way, you look really pretty.”

  “Thanks,” she stammered. Why am I so nervous?

  “Right, then here goes nothing.” Jane hadn’t noticed that Cris was holding a spiral-bound notebook until he held it in front of him and opened it. “These are some notes that I’ve been taking for Dr. Sylfaen over the last couple of months—since your first, um, episode. Since your birthday. He couldn’t take them himself, and he can’t read them to you.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’ll understand in a minute. Janie, you can’t tell anyone that I’ve done this for him…for you. I don’t really understand the danger, but that’s been made very clear to me.”

  “What about your mom? And Gregory?”

  “Nobody, Jane. Only the three of us know about this notebook.” He held it out in a somewhat reverent fashion, and Jane giggled internally. It had probably been pulled from the pack that she and Angelita had bought from the discount store during Christmas Break—five for three dollars, if she remembered correctly.

  “Can’t I read it to myself?”

  “I’m not sure. Dr. Sylfaen wanted for me to gauge your reactions, just to make sure that you could handle everything I read to you. It seemed like he thought the information would be easier for you to process this way. You ready?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.” Jane sat on the stairs. She was anxious to hear what her friend and godfather had spent more than eight weeks preparing for her, but there was no point in killing her feet in the process. She had to wear these damn shoes all night.

  Cris launched into his reading voice. “What I have been able to deduce, or led to deduce, is this: No person who is touched with supernatural ability,” his eyes rose to examine Jane’s face, “may speak of that ability to a person who is not already in possession of the same knowledge, without suffering a great deal of pain. In some cases, the pain results in loss of consciousness, insanity, or death.”

  Jane drew a gasping breath as Cris continued. “The danger of speaking does not lie in relaying the information, but in revealing it. More dangerous than speaking the secrets of the supernatural, however, is writing or otherwise recording them, presumably because the recorded information could later be revealed to any number of individuals. Such attempts have been made in the past, and the result has invariably resulted in the death of the recorder.”

  For a moment, Jane felt bewildered. Uncle Mederick couldn’t tell me any of this, and he couldn’t write it, so he had Cris write it for him. Cris could do it, because he doesn’t have any special abilities. But how did he give this information to Cris without endangering himself? Did he endanger himself? Did he endanger Cris? She pressed her finger tips to her temples. Stop asking more questions…focus, Jane. She took a breath and asked herself the right question, the one most pertinent to her present situation. Why is it important that I know this now?

  “Janie, are you ready for me to go on?” He waited for her to nod. “Individuals who are newly in possession of a supernatural ability are especially vulnerable to pain and death, at least until they acquire enough information to both control their abilities and protect the secrets of their nature simultaneously.” He looked up to check on his friend again, and she tried to steady herself for his sake. “Therefore, any successful records about the secrets of the supernatural, however short or broken, are carefully collected and protected at all costs, as the information they contain is immeasurably valuable to those individuals.

  “Okay, Janie. That’s all I have. I know it doesn’t seem like a lot for two months of work, but I’ve really tried my best, and Dr. Sylfaen thinks that it’s enough to get you through tonight, whatever that means.”

  “I’ll be fine.” She hoped her shaking voice didn’t betray her disbelief. My survival really does depend on getting some answers. Starting tonight, she thought. Until that moment, she’d only imagined that her curiosity might kill her. All of a sudden, Jane understood the purpose of her godfather’s dinner party.

  Cris turned to leave, but couldn’t. “I just didn’t get it until this afternoon, Janie—that more of you were actually coming here. I assumed that you two were the only two in the world, at least in the present day. Everything we researched seemed so ancient…anyway, I’m sorry I got so jealous. I’ve really been looking forward to sharing this with you.”

  “Thank you, Cris.” She was grateful, genuinely grateful, but it wasn’t getting any earlier, and she had to pull herself back together before anyone arrived. “You know, that all kind of read like a textbook or something.”

  “Thanks!”

  Jane laughed, and the sound brightened the tenor of their farewell. She hadn’t meant it as a compliment, and only Cris would have taken it as one. “Alright, get out of here. Tell Josh I’m sorry I couldn’t make it, and tell everyone else hello for me.”

  He lightly kissed her goodbye on one cheek and disappeared into the kitchen. In the precise second that she heard the kitchen door close, Dr. Sylfaen entered the great room and offered his arm to her. The doorbell rang.

  When he began to steer her into the foyer, Jane tugged at his elbow. “Uncle Mederick…I want to thank you for finding a way to give me some answers.”

  The old man leaned over and kissed her temple. “Pay attention now, Jane, and you will have even more before the evening is through.” He placed a finger over his lips and led her toward the massive front doors. As they approached them, Dr. Sylfaen released Jane’s arm and left her standing a few steps behind him. She struggled to keep her breath quiet as her godfather opened the doors.