Agendas

by J. F. Jenkins

  “Yes, that is exactly what I am saying.” He continued, “You were raised to live outside of our school grounds. At the time, the school was not the best place for you. Your family thought it important you live somewhere unexpected for one of your kind. This place is no longer safe. It is time you grow into your abilities and learn how to use them properly. Like I said, you do not get a choice in this matter, but it is much easier on us if you cooperate.”

  His words took a long time for her to absorb. She'd heard the stories, but they weren’t supposed to be real. They were only supposed to be illogical explanations for how the world worked. As bizarre as the entire situation was, she felt at peace. How else was she supposed to explain everything happening to her in the past twenty-four hours? She liked this explanation better than being insane.

  “So, I’m expected to go with you and not say a word about it?” she asked.

  “Precisely.”

  Mrs. Orinda stared at Mr. Thantos, completely appalled. “You’re so heartless.”

  “I am a realist,” he stated.

  “Yeah, well, you’re still mean.”

  “And you are still immature,” he said before returning his attention once more to Cheyenne. “We request you accompany us as soon as possible, quite possibly tomorrow, if it is permitted. We are not sure how much longer we can keep you safe. While I would love to elaborate more about it, there are those who are listening even now. I am already saying far too much. You will hear more when you are in a safe place.”

  “But what about…” Cheyenne frowned so deeply it started to give her a headache. “How can I just leave?”

  She looked to her mother for some kind of support, but the woman could only cry. It answered Cheyenne's question all the same.

  “If it’s for the best,” Cheyenne said at last.

  “Excellent. We will leave first thing in the morning,” Mr. Thantos said, nodding with a smile. He didn’t seem to take into account how anyone felt about the situation. “I would like to request lodging for the evening. If that is not imposing too much on you, I mean. We were going to stay somewhere nearby, but given some recent events I think it would be best if we were closer. I do not want any unwelcome visitors coming in the middle of the night trying to take her, as well.”

  Mrs. Orinda spoke quietly. “I think we should give them some time alone so they can talk.”

  “I was told by both of her parents to guard her with my entire being. I cannot do that if I am on the other side of the city.” He leaned in and whispered something into her ear, his eyes narrowed harshly. “Understand?”

  Mrs. Orinda didn’t say anything in response. Instead she stared down at her lap.

  Mr. Thantos lightened his tone and spoke to Cheyenne’s mother. “I do hate to inconvenience you both like this. I realize it is a lot to take in, in such a short period of time, but there is so much going on—most of which we will explain on the car ride. I, for one, do not want to listen to seven hours of the Spice Girls’ greatest hits.” He offered a small smile at his attempt to be funny, but humor was a lost art for him.

  “I’ll make some dinner,” Cheyenne’s mother said quietly and retreated. The room became awkwardly silent.

  After a minute or so, Cheyenne got up from her chair and fled for her bedroom, unable to handle the tension. She would do the two a favor and not make them feel obligated to converse with her anymore.

  “I think it went well,” was the last comment she heard Mr. Thantos make before she closed her door.

  When dinner was called, she still didn't want to go out and face any of them. All of her other emotions were so pent up she was afraid of breaking down in front of everyone.

  Over and over again the words I'm a freak repeated in her head. All she could think was something was wrong with her. In every movie she saw, the only characters who went through this kind of trauma were freaks. They were outcasts just like her, and it terrified her to think she might be alone for the rest of her life. She didn't want to be alone or live a life of secrecy and lies. Her desire to be normal and have a real connection with someone was stronger than ever now. The goal was to stay calm throughout dinner though. Any breakdowns could wait until she got back to her bedroom. But that became increasingly more difficult as she sat at the table and stared at the woman who, for Cheyenne’s entire life, had claimed to be her mother.

  “So, I’m adopted?” Cheyenne finally snapped.

  Mrs. Orinda shifted a bit in her seat and chewed on her lower lip. “I don’t think—”

  “Yes,” Mr. Thantos stated. “Though I believe the term your parents used was temporary guardianship. I believe they only thought you would be gone a handful of years. Someone persuaded them to keep you away for a much longer time.” He didn’t look at the woman Cheyenne had been calling mother, but it was clear he was referring to her, because she tensed up at his words. “I do not know all of those details, so I will not comment further or hypothesize a theory as to why. ‘Yes’ is the short version.”

  “And yet you still went along and told the long one anyway?” Mrs. Orinda picked at her plate in an agitated fashion. She had been eating fairly quickly up until then. Finally, she put her fork down and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Since you have such a fascinating blabbering mouth, how about we just talk about everything you were adamant about waiting in the car for? You’ve already said a lot as it is.”

  He took a small bite of his dinner. He’d been eating abnormally slow the whole night. It didn’t appear as though he was doing it on purpose. However, it annoyed Cheyenne. Despite his insistence that they move on to the next course without him, they waited for him to finish eating anyway. He was so calm and unfazed by everything, especially all of the negative remarks made against him by his companion.

  “No, that is not necessary,” he said.

  “You’re so…” Mrs. Orinda shook her head. “You know what? We’ll talk about this later.”

  “I believe that is the most intelligent thing you have said this evening.”

  Mrs. Orinda let out one last exasperated sigh and proceeded to scowl before attempting a more chipper conversation. “This is a wonderful meal, Ms. Loveless.” The awkwardness continued throughout the rest of the meal despite further efforts to ease the tension. Nothing could save the evening, outside of going to bed.

  After dinner, the two strangers were shown to their respective sleeping areas, where they stayed hidden for the rest of the evening. Once everyone was away from the kitchen, Cheyenne returned so she could get a start on the dishes and hopefully clear her mind. There was always something therapeutic to her about cleaning. The dirtier the room, the more effective the stress relief, and if there was anything that could get Cheyenne refocused on life again, it was a massive project.

  The dishes were not a massive project, of course, but they were the only chore she could find. Unfortunately for her, it seemed her mother was thinking along the same lines. She entered the room and began to silently help.

  “It’s fine. You don’t need to do me any favors just because you feel guilty,” Cheyenne said softly. She took one of the dinner plates and ran hot water over it. “To be honest, I kind of want to be left alone.”

  “But we always do them together,” her mother whispered.

  “I know, Mom.” Cheyenne paused a moment and chewed her lower lip bitterly. “I guess I shouldn’t be calling you that anymore.” She bit back a surge of tears and lowered her voice. “I need some time alone to think. You’re the last person I want to see right now.” She winced a little after she said it. She didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but she was mad. It felt as though the special bond they’d had, was now completely broken.

  “I was expecting you to be mad at me when you found out, but I wasn’t expecting you to hate me.”

  “Hate is a pretty strong word,” Cheyenne replied quietly. “I don’t know if that’s the word I’d use to describe my feelings. I think the words would be betrayed, disappointed, sad, angry. Those are bette
r words.”

  “I wanted to tell you.”

  She shook her head angrily. “Were you hoping I’d never find out? It’d be one thing if they didn’t want me, but to lie to me my whole life and pretend to be someone you’re not and keep me from them? It was you, wasn’t it? When he said someone kept persuading them otherwise. That was you, right?”

  There was a long moment of awkward silence before her mother replied. “Yes. I fell in love with you, and the thought of you being taken away, killed me. You were so small and sweet, and I had always wanted a daughter. Like I said, I was going to tell you, but I was waiting for a better time.”

  “Like never.”

  “Don’t talk like that, Chey, please. I’m still your mom. I still love you. I know I screwed up, but I don’t want either of us to start saying things we’re later going to regret.”

  Cheyenne turned off the faucet and set the bowl back down into the sink. “Fine, then I won’t say anything at all.”

  She bit back more tears and saved them for until she was out of the room. The last thing she wanted to do was break down and then be given comfort by someone she was supposed to be mad at. As prideful as it was, she felt as though she had only herself to rely on and trust. But was she overreacting? She couldn't tell. The pangs of guilt in her stomach suggested she could have been more understanding.

  No. She shook her head with determination as she climbed the stairs to her bedroom. I will not back down. She was the one who messed up, and she practically kidnapped me.

  She quickly entered her room and closed the door, locking it behind her in case there were any unwanted visitors later in the evening. Next, she closed the drapes in front of her windows and then proceeded to change into something to sleep in. She risked a glance over at the tulips on her sill, their red and orange petals visible through the cotton drapes. She wondered for a moment if they could see her as well, but then she reminded herself how ridiculous that was. Flowers didn’t have eyes. Then again, anything was possible at this point. They didn’t have ears either, and they could hear her speak.

  “That was an interesting day,” she said carefully, as if she were testing them.

  “Tell us, child, what has happened? We have heard some terrible rumors from your oak in the backyard.”

  “What did you hear?” she asked shakily. She pulled up the chair from her desk and sat by the window. Hesitantly, she opened the curtain so she could see the flowers. She was always taught to look at whomever she was speaking with. There was also something comforting about staring at flowers.

  “Talk about your troubles, and then if you still want to talk rumors and gossip, we will do so. We are much more concerned for the well-being of the child of our goddess.”

  “Do you know my real mother?” Goddess? Her mother? What exactly did that make her?

  “All of creation knows who your mother is.”

  “Oh.” She frowned, because obviously, she didn't. She must have been the only one on the planet who didn't know. “Is she nice?”

  “She is divine. She radiates sunlight even on the darkest of days. She is hope and peace in turmoil. She is one of the most beautiful creations on Earth. She is a creature to aspire to.”

  Cheyenne half smiled as she listened to them speak. The tone they used to speak of her real mother was filled with nothing but the deepest respect, love, and admiration. She must have been a truly amazing woman, and Cheyenne was becoming increasingly more eager to meet her in person.

  “What about my dad?” she asked.

  “He is also a wonderful man. He is funny and full of light. We do not get the pleasure of speaking with him in person for we can only eavesdrop, but they are much in love and it is quite refreshing. It is not a common thing to be so dedicated to one another where they reside. The other gods and goddesses are not so pure.”

  “They sound great,” she whispered. “I have to go away for a long time. Do you think you can come with me? I’m scared. I don’t want to leave here. At least if you were with me, I'd have something familiar.”

  “We are close to the end of our bloom,” they said sadly, and the petals of the flowers seemed to wilt to express this emotion. “We have sent word to our kin in the area, to the trees, the flowers, and the grass. They are eagerly awaiting your arrival, and they shall do whatever you require of them. All you have to do is say the word, and it will be so.”

  She rested her head on top of the sill and let out a sad and heavy sigh. “I wish there was another way. I don’t understand any of this. What am I? I feel like I’m such a…” She didn’t know if she should say the word on the tip of her tongue: lunatic. She didn’t want to insult the flowers. “I don’t suppose you know what it feels like to be so confused you think your head is about to explode?”

  “No, we do not, but we will still offer what comfort we can for you.”

  Chapter Four

  Mrs. Orinda and Mr. Thantos had many hours to talk as they drove, and it was time for Cheyenne to get some answers. Their constant bickering could provide only so much entertainment, and the last thing she wanted to do was think about the horrible and painful farewell between her and her mother. True to her words from the night before, Cheyenne hadn't said anything, despite her mother’s pleas for forgiveness. There were many tears, and it was hard for Cheyenne to do nothing. At the same time, though, she wasn't sure what to say. In the end, she wasn't ready to confront the woman. Maybe some day she would be, but for now it hurt too much. It was easier to say nothing than to say something she'd later regret. She had a real family to learn about now. Nothing seemed to help ease her pain though. She'd feel better when her mind was no longer plagued with questions.

  “So you said this school was for other freakish people like me,” Cheyenne stated casually as she sat up in the backseat of their black SUV. She pulled her headphones out of her ears, and carefully put her MP3 player back into its proper place.

  Mr. Thantos, who was driving, seemed unamused by her choice of wording, but it was hard to tell if this was because nothing amused him or because he was insulted by her terminology. She did, however, get a wince out of Mrs. Orinda.

  “I guess freakish is one word for it, but I’d rather not say that,” Mrs. Orinda said.

  Mr. Thantos rolled his eyes. “She prefers to use cliché and cheesy terms, such as 'gifted' and 'special.' They are words that mean well but only alienate and dilute the minds of the young students she teaches. I prefer ‘different,’ or yes, even 'freakish.' We are all abnormalities. Students who believe they are special are surprised when they are hated and looked down upon for having their various ‘gifts.’ They do not understand the importance of keeping their lives a secret from those who do not understand what they are. The normal human population cannot wrap their mind around the idea that the myths they have heard and studied are, in fact, real.” He started to talk only to Mrs. Orinda now. “You are only setting up your students, children, for years of future heartache. It is safer for them, as well as the humans they interact with, to tell them the truth.”

  “I hope you remember they are all only children,” she said to him angrily. Mrs. Orinda let out a deep sigh and rested her head against the front passenger window. “How am I supposed to explain to a five-year-old that if anyone outside the school knew what they were, they'd be hated and in danger? In some cases, even in their own families. Five-year-olds don’t grasp those kinds of concepts well.”

  “A five-year-old is much smarter than you think,” he countered. “Your society belittles its youth far too much. Granted, they also seem to think they are less intelligent than they are capable. It starts a cycle of negative, self-fulfilling prophecy. I remember a time when some as young as thirteen would be wed and in charge of entire estates, and they certainly seemed to do things just fine.”

  “I think that’s disgusting.” Cheyenne said.

  “Perhaps it is. The point is, you should not underestimate anyone based on any cultural ideas or stereotypes. I certainly was wro
ng about my initial perceptions of you.”

  Mrs. Orinda lifted her head from the window and stared at him. “And what were those?”

  “It would not be edifying to you for me to say.”

  “Since when did you care?” Mrs. Orinda asked.

  He glanced back at Cheyenne through the rearview mirror. “If you remember by the time we get back home, I will tell you then. However, we are getting more and more sidetracked from the task of answering Miss Loveless’s questions.” There was a moment of long and awkward silence in the car, the only noises being the sound of the wheels moving quickly over the sporadically uneven pavement, and the unidentifiable tunes pouring out of the stereo speakers. “That was your cue to ask another question, Miss Loveless. I do not like to read minds. It makes me uncomfortable. I try to avoid it as much as possible.”

  “Oh.” Cheyenne blushed. She ignored the unsettling feeling she got in her stomach when he mentioned he could read her mind. At least it explained how he knew so much. “What is this danger you were talking about? What about my real parents? What are they like? Have you met them? Will I get to meet them soon? Can you tell me more about everything that was kept from me? What kind of itinerary should I be expecting at this school? What kind of classes will I be taking? What’s it like there? Have I asked you enough questions yet?” Cheyenne gave a small smile.

  “Attitude,” Mr. Thantos commented with a sour snort. “Lovely.”

  Mrs. Orinda giggled a little. “Don’t act as though you don’t like it. You’re a horrible liar.”

  “You are many things, Aradia, but funny is not one of them.” He returned his attention to Cheyenne and her slew of questions. “I will answer them in no particular order, and you can tell me when to stop as soon as you feel bored or confused or you just do not care anymore. Though I do believe it is important we do a gradual build to all of this new and fascinating information. I know you are curious, and naturally so, but it is important you understand things, and it may only come in steps. I would hate to overload your fragile, mortal mind with things beyond your comprehension skills.