The Man in Blue

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The Man in Blue Page 18

by C. S Luis


  “She should be in class,” he offered. “We can head in that direction now if you’d like? She should be in English, in Ms. Wilkerson’s class. She’s covering for me,” Michael politely said.

  “Lead the way, Michael. I’m at your mercy here.” I foolishly smirked; of course I wasn’t at his mercy. I knew the place inside and out, but I couldn’t let that out. I was the newbie.

  We turned the corner, moving past the library which I couldn’t stop looking into. Michael must have noticed this and simply said, “That’s our library. I know what you’re thinking. Yes, it’s quite small, but don’t let it fool you. We have an impressive selection.”

  “Is your librarian Spanish?”

  I can’t believe I asked that. It was so stupid, and I only said it because I was still trying to figure out whether I had seen the girl or woman with bronzed slender hands in there in the first place.

  Perhaps it had been the librarian. Only when it was silent and Michael mumbled incoherently back did I realize I was thinking with my other brain. What had I said out loud?

  “Sir?” He asked, not sure he had heard what I said correctly.

  “I apologize. I thought I saw a Spanish woman in the library and believed she might have been the librarian.”

  There was a pause. God, had I just blown it?

  “Oh, no that would be Mrs. Wilson. She’s not Spanish,” Michael simply said as we continued down the hallway and then took the stairwell up to the second floor near the entrance to the courtyard. I could see the ROTC students getting in line and the tennis team practicing in the distance.

  “I guess I must have been mistaken,” I tried to say, trying to get off of the subject.

  “You seem to have an impressive ROTC group and tennis team,” I said. These types of things seemed to go down well with Michael. He was the kind of person that appreciated these comments.

  “Dr. Edwards donated the funds for the tennis courts, sir. And he bought all new uniforms for the ROTC classes and new instruments for our school band. He even donated money to help students get school supplies,” he said, smiling sadly as we came to the second floor. Yes, all impressive, I thought, looking deeply interested while following alongside him. Eventually, we arrived at a classroom.

  “Well, here we are, sir,” he peeked through the window of the door and then opened the door as the teacher came to the front of the entrance; she smiled immediately as her eyes caught sight of me. She seemed to be a weak little girl, lowering her gaze. It was a sign of submissiveness, and she was a brunette, but not Spanish or petite.

  “Sorry to interrupt your class, Ms. Wilkerson, but I’m looking for Claudia. May I have a word with her?”

  Her eyes seemed to glare at Michael, probably wondering why he hadn’t introduced us yet.

  “Oh, please forgive me. This is our new principal, Dr. John Black,” Michael immediately said. Her eyes had finally succeeded in giving him the right signals. She reached out to take my hand, and I put it over her trembling fingers.

  “It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Wilkerson,” I simply said before she could speak.

  “Ms. Wilkerson. I’m not married,” she offered. She then bit her lip like a shy little schoolgirl. Michael seemed to be a bit disgusted by the display.

  “Ms. Wilkerson,” Michael impatiently had to say. She blinked and looked back at him like he had just walked up to her.

  “Claudia, Ms. Wilkerson. May I have a word with her?” Michael impatiently asked while trying to look into the classroom.

  “Oh?” She said, staring back at him dumbfounded and then over at me. Her eyes dropped shyly as she smiled, blushing so obviously. She looked as red as the sweater she was wearing.

  “She’s not here,” she whispered. She was very soft-spoken. Maybe it was because of me.

  “What do you mean?” Michael seemed to be losing his patience with her. “I told her to wait in your classroom until class started.”

  “I let her go to the library to catch up on some make-up work,” she simply said as Michael moved away from the doorway.

  “I see. Very well,” he merely said. Ms. Wilkerson didn’t move even after I waved with a slight smile on my face, and I followed Michael back down the hallway as she looked after us, never leaving the entrance of her classroom.

  “I must apologize, Dr. Black. I wasn’t aware she was not going to be in class. She’s missed a few days because of the funeral so she has a lot of makeup work,” Michael said as we continued down the hallway and down the stairwell once again.

  “No need. I’m impressed she’s taken it upon herself to make up her homework,” I said; she was becoming quite the interesting faceless person, Claudia Belle. I imagined a simple teenage girl with bright blue eyes like Dr. Edwards’ and golden brown locks, maybe the cheerleader type. Probably interested in makeup and hanging out with the popular kids. The fact that Michael thought she was a perfect little girl was an image that would soon change once she discovered how easily she could boss him around. Michael was a bit of a pushover. Perhaps she already knew that and had used the excuse of catching up on homework to get out of class.

  “Oh, she’s wonderful. She’s a very sweet girl, takes her studies seriously. You’ll love her.”

  We came to the first floor and passed the library, and then we were at the main office once again. It appeared the movers had already arrived when we came around the corner. The library seemed to be empty as it had been before we had gone to the second floor. Michael looked into the library. “Doesn’t look like she’s in there,” he said.

  So, she was a troublemaker. Poor Michael. It was just the beginning for him.

  “Perhaps we should see about the movers. I’m sure she’ll turn up,” I suggested.

  Michael looked worried and embarrassed by not fulfilling my request.

  “Yes, maybe Mr. Claypool and Mr. Vasquez have seen her.”

  The door to the main office was wide open as we entered, and Mrs. Wallace immediately came towards Michael, whispering something about she’s in the office and I couldn’t stop her. I only caught a few words of their discussion. Mrs. Wallace moved away towards her desk, and the phone rang.

  “Claudia!” Michael’s voice called out as he rushed forward towards the office doorway. I was anxious to see the face of the faceless girl.

  I followed behind Michael as he stepped into the entrance and I came from behind him into the office. I must say, I was not prepared for what awaited me in the office’s interior entrance.

  A pair of lovely dark brown eyes greeted me from the bronzed skin of a petite beauty with waist-long, flowing brown hair. This was Claudia Belle? She stared back at me from the entrance of the doorway, and I could do nothing but stare at her like a dumbstruck fool.

  She was a student here? At the very place I was sent to infiltrate as a head principal?

  I trembled, as my lip quivered, speechless for a mere moment as I gazed at her momentarily. But I honestly didn’t understand why. Perhaps it was the idea of her. Either way, I didn’t know what peculiar uneasiness she stirred in me. I couldn’t begin to understand it. Perhaps it was the very reason I was taken by surprise, but was it that mere idea that stirred such restlessness inside me within those few seconds or rather something else I couldn’t quite yet pinpoint?

  And suddenly, it all made sense: Bryce’s disregard for procedure. This is why he had failed to send me the file. Her obvious appearance, John Slater’s apparent obsession for all the pieces of a peculiar puzzle the boss had seen way ahead of me.

  Did he possibly think her appearance would disrupt my assignment or in some way come between what I had come to do?

  And yet, why had I cowered at her feet at the first sight of her?

  “Claudia?” Michael said to her; she lowered her eyes when she found me looking over at her. She was submissive, and I smiled in response.

  “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you in class?” Michael asked.

  “It’s alright, Michael,” I softly interrupted him
, staring hypnotically down at her.

  “At long last, the famous Claudia Belle. Finally, we meet,” I said. I couldn’t help myself.

  She blinked up at me; it was obvious that she could read minds. A minder, my lips hissed. Alas, the young lady could read minds, and she was trying to read mine!

  She looked angry.

  “We’ve been looking for you, young lady,” I dared to say, never taking my eyes off her. Her eyes seemed to ask many questions. Who was this man dressed in that dark blue suit and a striped blue tie? What did he want, and why did he stare so deep into my eyes?

  But I knew nothing of what her thoughts really said.

  Although the mixture of uneasy sounds coming from my mind wouldn’t stop her attempts to read my thoughts, the device used to distort them most certainly would.

  I curved a lip at her. She seemed to panic, avoiding my eyes briefly. But again, when she dared to meet my eyes, I smiled at her.

  "Are you the new principal?" She asked. She mocked me, clutching a photograph tightly in her embrace. She seemed flustered and upset. Had she made up her mind about me?

  "My name is Dr. John Black. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Belle. I’ve heard so much about you," I said, being as charming as I could possibly be. Despite what it had done to so many others, it didn’t do the slightest to impress her.

  I extended my arm out to shake her fragile hand, but she didn’t take it. She appeared defiant and withdrawn. I drew back my hand. As she looked at me resentfully and spitefully, she awkwardly withdrew. Her lips quivered as she bit down at the bottom of her mouth; she was holding something back. She looked like she would speak but couldn’t find the words to say to me.

  I wanted to say something to her, but I felt speechless myself. No one had ever done this to me, not to John Slater. No one had ever caught him off guard, left him wondering what would be appropriate to say to another without sounding arrogant, especially to someone much younger than him. I had never had trouble before, but for some reason, I was struggling now. John Slater always had an answer and was always in control, especially with women.

  I thought of apologizing about her family, basically her loss. Surely she would see I was one not to be judged so quickly.

  "I'm sorry about your grandfather, Miss Belle. I really admired Dr. Edwards,” I politely offered; my smile was now replaced with an expression of serenity and warmth, one I was sure she would appreciate.

  “He was a highly-respected man and very devoted to his work. No one will ever be able to replace him," I added. “And I assure you, Miss Belle, that I’m not here to do so. I just hope that you are aware of that,” I was being sincere and very honest. I wouldn’t lie, not to her. She seemed to deserve honesty and a friend after what she’d gone through, first with her parents and now with her grandfather.

  Above me, the lights started flickering uncontrollably, and the desk slightly began shifting. Mr. Vasquez repositioned himself to conceal the desk from moving so that I wouldn’t notice it, but I had seen it. Who wouldn’t?

  It appeared she not only had the ability to read minds but the gift to move objects. What the ADA called telekinesis. Apparently, she was having trouble controlling it. This was usual, most telekinetic people didn’t have much control.

  We all looked up briefly. I avoided asking the obvious. “It’s a constant problem.” Michael grinned. I merely nodded.

  Claudia gawked up at me momentarily, completely lost. She looked frightened and slightly embarrassed perhaps fearing that I had seen her gift.

  “Now, as I was saying, Miss Belle I hope that you and I can be friends,”

  "Friends?” Claudia suddenly said, looking up at me puzzled, but it was the way it came from her precious little mouth that aroused me. The fear in her eyes if I had first seen it, had vanished.

  Then, Claudia narrowed her brown eyes up at me and looked me straight in the eyes and said, “Am I supposed to find that flattering, Dr. Black? Because I don’t. I lost my parents and then my grandfather, a man I hardly knew. I have no one, nor do I have the patience for this nonsense, and I sure as hell don’t need someone like you trying to make it seem as if it's alright. Because it’s not okay, and it will never be! I don’t need you to tell me you understand by offering your sympathy. I don’t need it!” She snapped.

  “Claudia!” Michael yelled.

  She blinked, realizing what she had just said to me. I was a big boy, I had worse tongue-lashings before. In fact, the passion of her anger was better than nothing. Then, just like that she ran out of the office right past me. It made me wonder whether or not she was embarrassed about what she had said to me. It didn’t bother me; although, I couldn’t understand why I had angered her. Had she found my words too phony? I was being nothing but honest. Wasn’t I?

  The lights resumed flickering then popped out one by one leaving scattered glass and smoke throughout the office. Michael called after Claudia as we heard the main office door slam at her exit.

  Mrs. Wallace came to stand at the entrance of the doorway behind us. The desk stopped moving just as the remaining lights went out. Mr. Vasquez immediately rose from the desk and smiled at me like someone trying to hide what had just happened. But they didn’t know who they were dealing with. This was a typical evening for me: chasing after the telekinesis or psychokinesis, fire starters, and shape changers.

  Then, something strange occurred to me within those few moments as I thought of what to say about what had just taken place, of this interesting discovery. There was a struggle in me I’d never found before. Bryce must have known, but why hadn’t he told me?

  “It’s a constant problem with the lights,” Mr. Vasquez tried to convince me.

  “Yes, Dr. Black is aware of budget problems, Mr. Vasquez,” Michael nervously interrupted, glaring at Mr. Vasquez. But who did they think they were fooling? Normal people?

  “I’m sorry, but she’s gone through a lot. First her parents and now her grandfather,” Michael tried to explain, which wasn’t necessary.

  “Of course, it’s quite understandable,” I answered; the voice inside my head kept bringing Bryce’s name into my thoughts. He didn’t like loose details.

  "She's really a nice girl," Mr. Vasquez volunteered to me.

  “I can vouch for that,” Mr. Claypool added.

  I simply nodded. “I know she is.” Of course she was; it was I who had the nerve to speak to her like I understood her pain. I had been cocky because John Slater always tried to be charming. And I had done it again without considering her feelings. She wasn’t just any woman that could be charmed by John Slater’s words or smile. She was a young lady who needed a friend that understood her pain, not some insensitive jerk like me.

  “Should I go and get her, Mr. McClellan?” Mrs. Wallace asked from the doorway. Michael turned to her and shook his head.

  I spun around, looking straight at the men and Michael and Mrs. Wallace who were standing by the entrance of the office and staring back inside. My eyes seemed to summon them and have them under my will.

  “When the two of you get a chance, please bring Claudia over to my office. I’d like to speak with her,” I said, directing my attention to the two assistant principals.

  “But sir, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Michael suggested as Mrs. Wallace walked back to her desk. Of course, the guardian would say that.

  “No? Perhaps you’re right Michael.”

  Although I didn’t agree. If he got in my way, I wouldn’t be so very nice. John Slater always got his way.

  “But how am I supposed to apologize?” I added. The movers, after all, were moving these things for me, to make room for the new principal. If it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t be so upset.

  “Apologize?” Michael asked as he glanced over at me.

  “Of course,” I answered. “I didn’t mean to upset the poor girl.”

  10

  Claudia Belle

  It wasn't long before I was sitting in Mr. Claypool’s office wi
th Mr. Vasquez and Michael. I had already made a fool of myself with the new principal, and now I had everyone else worried about me. I felt stupid and embarrassed for having them standing over me, worried sick. Michael was there because he was my guardian, and Mr. Claypool and Mr. Vasquez were there because they said they were worried just the same. I figured they felt devoted to my grandfather, so on some strange level, they felt like I was their child. It felt good to be important and cared for.

  "I'm sorry," I softly said, unable to look up. “I don’t know what came over me. That’s never happened before. I’m usually very good about controlling my emotions. But today, I can’t understand it. It was like a feeling I’ve never felt before. It was so….”

  I didn’t want to say it, the pure rage I’d felt inside me. What would they think of me? I was an uncontrollable girl with a gift I couldn’t restrain. No one wanted a girl like that wandering the school hallways.

  “Well, you must learn how to better control your emotions, Claudia. It’s important,” Michael said. “We’re running out of light bulbs,” he joked.

  “Not to mention excuses,” Mr. Vasquez said out loud.

  “But in all seriousness, try not to let people such as Dr. Black upset you,” Michael said. So they were no strangers to what I could do. They knew the lights weren’t going out because of bad circuiting.

  “How is it that you know what I can do?” I made myself ask.

  “Your grandfather could do the same things you do. There was never a time that something like that didn’t happen to him. Lights were always flickering, pipes exploding, and even sudden thunderstorms. Unusual things happened all the time, but he could control them. And you must too,” Michael said.

  Michael was right; people usually didn’t react well to things like popping light fixtures and creaking buildings, especially if it was the will of a girl like me making these things happen.

  “Dr. Black saw it happen?” I asked worried, realizing the lights had shattered when I’d stormed out.

  “As far as he knows, it was nothing but the failing light bulbs Milton is popular for,” Mr. Claypool admitted as he sat at his desk and glanced at me from the other end. Michael sat near the entrance of the office to my right and Mr. Vasquez to my left.

 

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