by C. S Luis
Dr. Edwards shivered, jerking himself back to the present. He shook his head. He wanted to bury his memories long ago, but they always found him, no matter how hard he tried. He always recalled the boy he had once been, the boy whose surname he bared as a lasting reminder of that day.
He cringed at the idea or the reason for the crystal's sudden rise, and the very thought almost alarmed him, but he didn't want to think about it. And yet, he wondered, had it been nothing more than the energy between him and Claudia?
But if anything should happen…
There was a knock at the office door. And before he could say a word, Michael stood at the doorway
The crystal stopped glowing as Dr. Edwards immediately put it away. Looking into Michael’s eyes, although he hadn't given it much thought, for some reason, he knew right away what needed to be said.
"Michael, I want you to make me a promise."
"Anything, old friend. What is it?"
"If anything ever happens to me, promise me you'll look after Claudia."
"Neil, what are you talking about?"
Dr. Edwards felt the crystal in his coat pocket again; its light hummed, but only he could hear it.
"Just promise me.”
Michael stepped into the office, immediately closing the door behind him. What a strange thing to say, Michael thought, but his friend had always been the dramatic type. It didn't surprise him.
"I must know she'll be taken care of if something were to happen to me," Dr. Edwards said.
"Don't be ridiculous. Nothing's going to happen,” Michael said, trying to smile under his uncertainty.
But Dr. Edwards’ worried expression stared up at him, and he knew something was wrong.
Dr. Edwards lifted the crystal from his pocket and put it on his desk. Michael recognized the glowing object; he had seen the crystal many times before. Dr. Edwards had often talked about it, talked about how he had acquired it and what it was for. But he had never seen it giving off such a beautiful color before, so he didn’t know what its purpose was.
"Why is it glowing? Is that normal?” Michael nervously asked.
"I'm not sure,” Dr. Edwards said; he had never been sure about the colors or what they meant. "It’s important I talk to Claudia before it's too late," Dr. Edwards urgently said.
"It could be nothing," Michael said doubtfully. "Perhaps we’re just alarmed for no reason."
"The crystal has two purposes," Dr. Edwards exclaimed, rising from behind his desk. "To keep evil away and to protect the wearer. We know that. You've seen it. How can you say that?" Dr. Edwards asked.
"I'm just saying, it could be…nothing. I mean, you said yourself you’re not sure. You said that."
"I've also said an entity will awaken the energy within it." He then thought about his own words for a moment
"Can Claudia?" Michael suggested, and only when Michael had, did Dr. Edwards wonder the same possibility. Could it have been awakened by Claudia's arrival? It made perfect sense, didn’t it?
Dr. Edwards glared at him. It was an unusual question, not one they had ever considered before, but how would that be possible? It had never had that effect on him. And if they were the same, then it couldn't possibly be her that had stirred it awake, could it? For if it were so, then he had just made the biggest mistake in bringing her here.
"I'm not sure." Dr. Edwards' lips quivered. “That’s why I’m afraid that perhaps I have made a horrible mistake in bringing her here.” He looked up at Michael. “Just promise me that no matter what happens to me, you’ll always protect her."
"I promise," Michael said. "I won't let anything happen to her."
8
Claudia Belle
Escaping the old man was one thing. But what faced me instead, if not his questions and concerns, was high school. Eyes turned to see the new kid as I made my way through the side doors, past the cafeteria entrance. They knew who I was long before I stepped in. One would think I was somewhat of a celebrity.
Was that a good thing? Not when you consider what sort of celebrity status my background had given me, meaning that I was the principal's granddaughter; if I hadn't considered it before, I was seriously considering it now.
How strange, one minute you’re eating cereal at your family’s breakfast table, and the next, you’re riding to school on a busy day. You awake with a new life with no one to tell you what has happened, where your family is, and why you’re all alone. Then they jam a whole bunch of information about a grandfather you’ve never met and plan to stick you there. Their lives go on, and yours just ends there in a new world you know nothing about.
So, this is my new world now? The cold faces of reality staring back at me as I moved along the hallway. My father’s message to me, what did it mean? Why was he afraid? My father had never feared anything.
The faces in front of me told me their thoughts. I could hear into their minds, but it was never coherent, never inaudible, only chatter channeling through my mind, piercing my thoughts like distorted radio sounds. That’s how I knew my parents were dead before Mr. West told me. That’s how I knew my whole life had changed.
What they knew, I knew too.
My father wanted to protect me, but protect me from what or who? My father had the ability, something we shared together. But he was good at hiding it and knew when I would try to read him. And now, what had once made me feel special was making me feel like a freak.
The hallway stretched ahead, crowds of students spread a path, looking in my direction as I raced past them hastily. I longed for solitude, a place to hide from all this. But where could I go? I had nothing, nothing but my memories, memories of once having a home to call my own, a place among the secure embrace of my parents. And now they were gone and I would never see them again. I couldn't understand that.
It’s not fair.
At this thought, my father's voice found its way into my mind, his image well burned in my thoughts forever. It was an image of him standing outside my bedroom when he told me we were going to be moving. But then I didn’t know it would just be me; I didn’t know what my father’s intentions really were.
“But I like Trent, daddy. Why must we leave? I don’t want to go,” I had voiced.
"Because you’re my daughter, and I’m not giving my only daughter to that family,” he very firmly answered. I didn’t understand that, but I didn’t have to because my father knew what was best for me.
He was a handsome man, and I often wondered why I hadn’t gotten his beautiful blond hair or his clear blue eyes. He told me I was beautiful the way I was, and that’s why he had married my mother.
"It’s not fair," I protested regarding our trip, he came to sit upon my bed.
“Life isn’t fair, but you make the best with what you got, sweetheart."
I knew the words by memory; they found their way out of my mouth. I could always count on his words to comfort me, but now, what kind of reassurance would they bring me? Life had shown its ugly self as a truly selfish part of existence.
I raced up the stairwell, hoping to hide away if only for a brief moment. I found the girl's restroom around the corner on the second floor. There, I ducked into the last empty stall and collapsed. And for a moment, I did nothing, but then I started crying. Above the pipes rattled and groaned at the sounds of my sobbing, and I thought they would burst.
"Stop!" I yelled, and the pipes settled and became quiet. And amongst the silence, the bell rang in the distance. For a moment, I heard student voices clearing the halls, racing from one end to the other, doors slamming, tennis shoes sliding across waxy floors, and then finally, there was silence save the sound of my breath.
For a brief moment it remained silent, but then the bathroom door slowly crept open and I heard an eerie whistling, a catchy, yet creepy melody. It went up in tone, stretched, holding it up there, and then it started over again. Steps followed, echoing upon the marble flooring. Perhaps it was one of the other students coming to use the bathroom?
I became still, quietly listening and hoping they would leave quickly. The whistling continued in front of the bathroom sink, until I heard the faucet turning and water running.
Through the cracks of the stall, I couldn't see who it was or where they were standing. A few steps more and a figure came into clear view. A tall, slender blond-haired man, dressed in a black suit and red tie stood facing the bathroom sinks. It seemed normal enough except for the simple fact that he was in the girl's restroom. But there he was, facing the mirror so naturally, so nonchalantly.
How strange.
In a very robotic manner, he tilted his head slightly as he glanced at himself in the mirror. It seemed almost as if he were looking at himself for the first time. He had dull eyes, fairly large and round, and his jaw sunk into his long and pale face. He had the darkest eyes and the slimmest lips that curved into a sinister smirk.
Brushing a finger across his ghostly eyebrows, the stranger wiped his hands with a paper towel, and then straightened his tie. His reflection flickered slightly, distorting his image briefly; hollow eyes and a skull of porcelain teeth formed out of a hooded head at the opposite side of the mirror, staring back at him. Above, the lights flickered again, and then it was gone!
The whistling continued.
I moved back, my heart pounding against my chest. Had I just seen that? Was it real? I nearly stumbled, choking back the scream in my throat as I fell forward against the bathroom stall again.
The whistling stopped suddenly as our eyes met from the reflection in the mirror. Discovered, I pulled away from the door. Had he seen me?
Oh, but there was no question about it. Of course he had. I bravely peeked through the crack of the stall again and found the spot empty. I glanced around but couldn't get a good look at the rest of the bathroom from within the stall.
“Boo,” suddenly a pair of dark blue eyes startled me from the other end of the stall. A scream escaped my mouth, and I stumbled away horrified. A pipe burst above my head, and for a moment, I stood there, staring at the stall door and unable to move while the water from the pipe above sprinkled down over me. Finally, I moved forward, pushing open the stall and carefully stepping out.
As I stood outside the open stall, I realized I was alone. The light above the sink mirror flickered slightly as I took a step forward. I was now standing at the very spot where he had stood before. I couldn’t forget his eyes and that clever all-knowing grin upon his face.
My reflection in the mirror stared back at me. The light flickered, but this time, he was there standing behind me, near an open stall, with the same ill-looking gaze. The lights went out, and he jumped closer towards me. I spun around to face him, my hands clutching the sink behind me as I pushed up against it. But when I did, he wasn’t there. He was gone again.
Nearby, a small puddle formed at the stall where I had been before. And as I looked towards it, the stall door began to crack open. The sound of the pipe slightly spraying down into the stall kept me from going insane. I could sense something staring at me from the darkness inside, quietly waiting.
Startled by the school bell, I quickly grabbed my school bag and rushed out of the restroom.
I hurried down the hallway that led into an open area view of the first floor. Below was the auditorium entrance with Go Buffaloes, a cartoon drawing of a buffalo puffing air out of his nostrils, decorating the outside wall.
Near the railing, overlooking the auditorium, is where I saw him again. The man in the black suit and red tie was standing very still. For some strange reason, I felt he was waiting for me. I couldn't explain it, but when his gaze met mine, it seemed to beckon me forward. A cold chill raced up the side of my arm as his head came forward, and his dark blue eyes stared motionless at me from the long vacant expression on his dull gaze. Like a ghostly apparition, his lips parted slightly, whispering something I couldn’t understand. Could no one else see this? He pointed a bony finger at me, and his lip curved as his eyes smiled and danced from that hollow and cold gaze.
I backed away, falling into the paths of two men. Terrified, I whirled around, and for a moment neither one said a word; the taller of the two, wearing a green suit coat, managed a wave. He wasn't easy to ignore as his towering figure came to stand in front of me.
"Finding your classes alright Claudia?" The tall blond figure, a dead ringer for Ed Harris, politely asked.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get the chance to introduce ourselves. I’m Mr. Claypool and this is Mr. Vasquez. Are you alright?” He asked as his friend Mr. Vasquez smiled warmly down at me. He was quite a tall man, even taller than Mr. Claypool.
I nodded, still trembling. I glanced back, but the man in the black suit and red tie was gone. I couldn't make sense of what I had seen. Did I doubt my own eyes? I quickly realized that if he had been there, only I had had the pleasure of seeing him.
I turned back and tried to stop trembling, hoping they wouldn’t ask any more questions.
But it wasn’t the first time I had seen things or made things happen. The plumbing in my house had busted once or twice before. I had even flooded the basement. But this was different than some plumbing issue, and I knew that.
Making pipes burst or weather change in minutes was something I could understand. And predicting certain events was not something new to me, but I couldn't find any answer for him, and the more I thought about it, the more I wished I had not seen him. It was almost as if I wasn't supposed to see him.
Or could it be that I was? Who was he? Or worst of all, what was he? A spirit, a ghost? He definitely wasn’t human. I almost knew what he was, but I couldn’t say it. And I felt it, the bony hand creeping up my shoulder like the withering tree branches reaching for me, reaching for my soul.
My father would have known what to do. And yet, I doubted it, but at least I wouldn't be alone. I wouldn't be the freak among the others. My hair was dripping wet, and students whispered and thought terrible things.
Look at the weirdo…
I had been through the same dance back in my old school, but this time I was definitely alone.
"Don't be shy to ask us for help. Okay?" Mr. Claypool kindly offered. Mr. Vasquez nodded, his goofy head bobbing; the thick mustache extended over his lip and made his lips disappear beneath it.
Had they not noticed the obvious water? They didn’t seem to until a few students rushed up to them to tell them the girl’s bathroom was flooding. Only then did they look at me.
"Ah, Claudia. Would you happen to know anything about this?"
I managed a half-guilty smile. And then they noticed the trail of wet footprints coming from the restroom. Honestly, I hadn’t noticed them myself until then.
And I wasn’t sure if they were my footprints or the ghostly man’s.
Michael had long ago left Dr. Edwards' office by the time Mr. Claypool and Mr. Vasquez entered. Claudia was with them. Happy to see them and aware he had called for them to his office earlier in the morning, he was surprised to see Claudia with the two men. Lost for words, he glanced at the men in question.
"Why is your hair wet?" he asked Claudia, oblivious to the flooding.
"Sir, the second-floor pipe busted in the girl's restroom,” Mr. Vasquez suddenly spat out, sounding so arrogant, Claudia almost laughed.
"What were you doing out of class?" Dr. Edwards asked Claudia, ignoring Mr. Vasquez's sudden outburst.
"I had to go,” she mumbled sarcastically, making Mr. Claypool slightly smirk. He stopped only when Dr. Edwards glared at him.
"Sir, if I may. Those pipes are pretty old. Best they burst now so we can ask for money in the budget to repair the rest."
Dr. Edwards sighed; he knew the pipes were not an accident. It most likely had to do with the fact that the crystal hadn't stopped glowing since Claudia had arrived. Not that pipes were a frequent problem, but they were nevertheless an issue.
"Perhaps I should take her to the nurse's office. Mrs. Jenkins always keeps a spare pair of clothes in her office for such an emer
gency," Mr. Claypool suggested.
"Claudia, it’s important we talk," Dr. Edwards said to Claudia.
"You heard them. It wasn't my fault. The pipes burst. Can I please go?" she firmly asked.
"Claudia, I understand you’re having a difficult time adjusting, but…"
"No! You don't understand! Everyone thinks they do, but no one really does, and neither you nor this place will make a difference because my parents will still be dead! And no one can change that! So why don't you all just leave me alone?"
She stormed out the door before he could say anything else.
The two assistant principals didn't say a word, and he didn't expect them to. Instead, he gave them an assignment they couldn't possibly mess up.
"We'll keep an eye on her, Sir," Mr. Claypool said, leading Mr. Vasquez out with him.
"Please see that you do, and have Mrs. Wallace call the plumber. Tell her to use my credit card," he softly whispered. They nodded and left him alone.
Dr. Edwards reached into his pocket and noticed the crystal had taken on a darker shade of blue. He wondered what it meant.
He had wondered the first time the same thing, but in his haste, he left the man in the black cloak behind, hurrying to the palace grounds to find his mother. He knew where she would be, and the crystal color had changed when he arrived at the door of the white large room where she was kept. He had crept towards the door slowly; the crystal turned the color blue. He immediately tore a thin thread from the linens he wore, tying one end to the crystal cylinder and the other into a knot. Then placed it around his neck, making sure to hide it under his collar. When he was sure it was hidden, he poked his face through the small opening of the door and looked inside.
The room was very large and beautiful with elegant statues lining the wall. Quinn fancied the culture of Rome and Greece, he recalled. And he’d often spoken of the days he’d visited the human worlds merely for those reasons.
