by E. J. Mara
I touch the glass just above Mom’s cheek, as if this is somehow the same as touching my mother’s cheek. Sighing, I set the photo down and slide into Dad’s desk chair. I’m not here to look at pictures and push myself into a depression, I’m here to find out what I.T.I.S. is.
I open Dad’s bottom desk drawer and scan its contents. Not much here, just some random papers and a three-hole punch. I lean forward to close the drawer and a VHS tape with my name on it catches my eye. I pick it up, my heart skipping a beat as Mom’s handwriting, scrawled in black marker, stares back at me, “For Karen & Tessa.”
I touch the cursive letters, each of them long and elegant, and a strange sort of homesickness washes over me. I make myself set the tape aside. If I get all emotional, I won’t be able to focus. Anyway, the tape is probably just a recorded message with one of Mom’s “I love my beautiful girls” speeches. Before she lost her mind, that’s the way Mom was. She’d use every second she could to tell us she loved us or teach us some life lesson.
My stomach smarting, I take one last look at the tape. I’ll definitely watch it later.
I start to close the drawer when something that must have been behind the tape catches my eye, a tiny metallic spray can. I almost didn’t see it because it’s shoved into the corner of the drawer and partially covered by a legal pad. It doesn’t look like cologne or like any cleaning solution I’ve ever seen. Curious, I pick it up and turn it over.
A small label on its underside says, “Property of I.T.I.S. - Hearing”
I.T.I.S! This must have some connection to Dad’s secret!
My nerves spiking, I remove the can’s top and sniff the spray nozzle. The floral scent that slinks into my nose is surprisingly familiar. I turn the bottle around, examining it. Where have I smelled this before? And why’s it called “Hearing”?
Our phone rings, startling me so much that I jump and the can falls out of my hands. I retrieve it, toss it into the pocket of my robe and scramble out of Dad’s office, hurrying to answer the phone. As soon as Dad gets back, I’m showing him this can and demanding that he tell me what I.T.I.S. is.
“Nate, I don’t understand.” Julia says, her eyes filling.
A lump forms in my throat. No matter how much she cries, I have to stand my ground. I avert my eyes and say, “Because I care about you and I want you to be with a guy who deserves you.”
A loud group of sophomores, all of them slowing in stride as they pass us, leave the student parking lot and head into Peake High. Each of their stares, weighty with judgment, land on my shoulders and my anxiety goes into overdrive. I wish I’d had the brains to start this conversation in the car and not on the sidewalk where everyone can watch the latest episode of “Julia and Nathaniel.”
“Nate?”
“Yeah?” I shift my gaze to the sidewalk, and Julia’s tiny feet, the only part of her that I can bring myself to look at, are moving towards me.
The silver toe ring on her right foot glares back at me as she says, “Would you at least look at me?”
I do as she asks and with her shoulders hunched, she seems even shorter than her petite 5’4’ frame. But the slouched posture doesn’t diminish her beauty.
I take a deep breath. Any other guy would think I’m an idiot for doing this to her.
“There has to be a reason why you keep breaking up with me,” She says, her bottom lip trembling. “Just tell me what I’m doing wrong.”
“Nothing.” I rub the back of my neck and stare into the distance, searching for the right words. “I…”
“You what?”
The bell rings and the noise around us increases as everyone shuffles to their first hour; everyone, except for Julia and me. Rooted to her spot on the sidewalk, she crosses her arms and stares me down.
“I can’t say you did anything wrong, because you didn’t.” My words come out in a nervous rush and needing to do something with my hands, I slide my book bag off my shoulders and set it at my feet. Julia shakes her head, a scowl forming above her eyes. “You’re lying.”
“No I’m not,” I quickly say. “Jules, you’re perfect. And whoever you end up with is going to be the luckiest guy in the world, but it’s not me. You need to be with someone who deserves you.”
“You keep saying that!” she snaps, tears falling from her eyes. Two passing girls slow down, turning to glance at us.
The unwanted audience sends a rush of heat to my face, and I stammer, “I keep saying it because it’s true. B-but…” I gulp. I wish I could just say it.
“But what?” Julia demands.
My chest heavy and my palms making like Niagara Falls, I gather my courage and force myself to look her in the eye. “But you deserve to be with someone who sees you as more than a friend, because I don’t.”
Julia’s face falls and she takes a shaky step backwards.
“Jules …” I reach for her, but she pushes my hand away.
“Screw you, Nathaniel.” Her face bright red, she turns on her heel and hurries away.
I watch her disappear into the crowd while passing kids whisper and stare, looking from me to Julia with unveiled curiosity. I want to go after her. But if I do, she’ll either push me away and make an even bigger scene or break me down until I find myself back in a relationship with her. My fists clenched, I exhale. If that was the right thing to do, then why do I feel so horrible?
Frustrated, I pick up my book bag and trudge to first hour.
“…ESPECIALLY THE ONES derived from differential equations,” Ms. Hines, our math teacher continues. “The variables involved are not linked to each other in an explicit way. Most of the time, they’re linked through an implicit formula…”
Linked; that’s what Karen and I are ... or at least it’s what I want us to be. I feel like she trusts me. But it’s a limited trust.
Ms. Hines raps her blue dry erase marker against an equation on the overhead projector and continues to explain it. I stare at the calculus problem, blind to the numbers and deaf to everything she’s saying. All I can think about is what Karen said about me last night. She got mad and her real feelings came out. She called me a coward.
What if there’s some truth to that? After all, I am scared of pretty much everything. I still haven’t really allowed myself to process the fact that what I saw in the cornfield means that…well, that Karen’s Dad might not be fully human. I mean, whatever I saw in that out there was gigantic, with glowing eyes. And all I know is that her dad came out of there. But, until now, I haven’t even wanted to admit that to myself.
On top of that, is my relationship with Julia. I’ve been dating her out of fear; fear of looking like a bad guy, fear of Karen potentially rejecting me. It’s like my entire life is me on the high bar, freezing up and letting fear get the best of me.
The realization washes over me like a cold shower; Karen’s right, I am a coward.
Without a second thought, I raise my hand.
Ms. Hines adjusts her wire rimmed glasses and pauses her lecture as she looks at me with raised eyebrows. “What’s wrong, Nathaniel?”
“May I go to the bathroom?” I ask.
She nods and I shoot out of my seat, hurrying through the classroom door and into the hallway. I jog down the hallway, past the boy’s restroom, and straight through Peake High’s exit doors. With this, I truck it to the student parking lot. This makes two days in a row that I’ve skipped school, but I don’t care, and I don’t care how scared I am right now. It’s time for Karen to know how I feel about her. If that means I get rejected, then I get rejected. But I can’t be a coward anymore.
A cold breeze bites through my jacket, sending chills up and down my arms as I make my way to Mom’s Lexus. My Jeep is at the dealership so they can fix the windshield and figure out what’s wrong with the alternator. Since Mom has the day off, she let me take her car to school.
Despite the cold, my palms are sweating as I pull out of the parking lot and glance down at Mom’s brand new car phone; a clunky black device that she’s proud of
. She bought it just in case of an emergency. Telling Karen that I’m on my way over seems like an emergency to me. I dial her number, and as she picks up and my heart nearly stops.
“Would you stop calling?” Karen snaps.
Taken aback, I hesitate, “Uh, what do you mean? This is the first time I’ve called you today.”
“Oh, my gosh, Nathaniel?”
“Yeah.”
“Sorry about that, somebody keeps calling and hanging up and I-”
“Hey, I need to talk to you,” I cut in. “Can I come over?” I hold my breath as she remains silent. Why isn’t she saying anything? I turn onto the highway that leads to her neighborhood, hoping she’ll say yes.
“Okay,” she finally says.
“Okay,” I repeat, inadvertently echoing her tone. I clear my throat. “See you soon.”
“Yeah, see you soon.”
As we hang up, I turn onto the street that will bring me to the girl who I’ve got to prove myself to. I want to tell her everything, not just about how I feel about her, but about her Dad. Then again, I might get to her house and completely freeze up.
I hope I can do this ... no. I’m going to do it.
I stare down at the phone, Nathaniel’s voice lingering in my head, ‘I need to talk to you. Can I come over?’ I should have asked, ‘talk about what’. Maybe he still feels bad about what he said last night. If that’s the case, I’ll tell him to save his apology because everything he said was true.
Discomfort nips at my stomach, and figuring I should get a glass of Ms. Davidson’s cabbage juice, I head for the refrigerator. A glimpse of my reflection in our microwave door horrifies me. I, basically, look a troll doll. With my bed head hair, sleepy eyes, and large fluffy robe thrown on over pink and red PJs, I’m betting that as soon as Nathaniel sees me, he’ll congratulate himself on choosing Julia over me.
I comb my fingers through my hair and pause as the distinctive creak of our back porch screen door sounds. Crap, Dad’s back.
I trudge out of the kitchen and head for the back door. I need to have a serious conversation with Dad about that I.T.I.S. stuff, so maybe I should ask Nathaniel to come over later …
My thoughts come to an abrupt halt and I stop in the middle of the hallway. Just ahead, the window in our back door, its white curtains askew, reveals an extremely tall man who’s definitely not my father. The nearly seven foot tall giant of a man stands at our back door, his head down, and his gaze on the doorknob, which he seems to be trying to unlock.
Oh, my God.
As the doorknob shakes, my mouth goes dry and I take a step back in disbelief. This guy is trying to break into our house! I take a deep breath, pretend my knees aren’t shaking, and shout, “Hey!”
The stranger looks up, his dark eyes locking onto mine.
I approach the door and try to look as menacing as possible, which probably isn’t working very well. Despite this, I say, “I’m calling the police. Get out of here!”
The man smiles, revealing large yellowed teeth that give him a horse-like appearance. I instinctively take a step back as he arches an eyebrow and chuckles as if my threat is funny.
I’d better call the police. My hands shaking, I run for the kitchen phone. Behind me, a loud tapping noise sounds at the back door.
What’s he doing to our door?
I turn around and the door, somehow removed from its hinges, falls forward and lands in our hallway with a thud, causing dust and grass to billow up from the floor. I blink back at the strange man who stands in our doorway. The giant’s about Dad’s age and despite his gargantuan height, he’s lanky in a blue flannel shirt over a pair of worn jeans. His stringy blonde hair, long and oily, looks like it hasn’t been washed in weeks.
How did he do that to our door?
I take a shaky step back as he meets my eyes, his yellowed smile still in place.
“Hi there, Karen. You’re going to need to come with me.”
Chills creep from my scalp to the very bottoms of my feet as he says my name, and my instincts taking over, I turn around and run down our hallway as fast as I can.
Who is this creep and how does he know my name?!
The staccato of the stranger’s footsteps follow me, moving faster. I skid into Tessa’s room, slamming her door shut, and locking it. My hands shaking, I glance around. What do I do? Should I hide under the bed?
No that’s stupid …what about the window? Maybe I can get out through Tessa’s window, run to Ms. Davidson’s house, and call the police from there.
The same tapping noise I’d heard at the back door before it fell off of its hinges sounds at Tessa’s door and my heart sinks.
“Please, don’t let him get in here,” I mumble, hurrying past Tessa’s rows upon rows of stuffed animals as I make my way to her window. I trip over something hard and crash, hip first, into her windowpane.
My every movement clumsy, I right myself, shove Tessa’s window open, and catch a quick glimpse of what I’ve tripped on. At my feet is a fuzzy brown teddy bear that’s been stabbed through its stomach with two of our steak knives.
Refusing to consider why my little sister might have done this to her teddy bear, I turn back to the window. It’s only gone up a couple of inches. It’s stuck!
“Come on,” I hiss, pushing against the window with all my might. The metal ridges make indentations in my calloused palms, but the window refuses budge.
Behind me, Tessa’s bedroom door slams to the floor with a crash. It’s too late, he’s in.
My heart beating wildly, I spin around.
The tall man shoves both of his hands into his pockets and steps into Tessa’s room with a casual air. This is bad. I crouch and grab the two knives from Tessa’s teddy bear.
The giant strolls towards me without much of a care in the world. In fact, his grin widening, he tosses his shaggy blonde locks out of his eyes and says, “You’re going to stab me? That’s so cute.”
I blink back at him. There’s something odd about his eyes. They’re hazel, but tinged with a silver glint.
“Come on, really.” Still smiling, he heads my way, his hands not moving from his pockets. “Try and cut me. Knick me once and I’ll let you go, I promise.”
My thoughts a jumble, I take a step back and crush a stuffed animal under my right foot. “You should leave while you can,” I say, my voice shaking. “I called the police, they’re-”
I shut up as the silvery glint in each of his irises becomes more pronounced, overwhelming the hazel until it’s drowned. His eyes are turning silver. Horrified, I stare at him. He takes his hands out of his pockets and the backs of his hands are a glistening gray, as if they’ve been doused in silver glitter.
“What’s wrong with you?” I blurt, looking at his hands, the fingernails of which are completely silver.
“You’ll find out soon enough.” He saunters towards me.
My heart pounding, I back into the wall. He starts for me and I lunge forward, aiming one of the knives at his chest. He catches my wrist and grips it so tightly that I’m forced to drop the knife. His hold on my wrist constricts, in mere seconds becoming unbearable.
Tears spring into my eyes. “Let go!”
He chuckles and grabs the other knife, tossing it aside. While it clatters to the floor, he positions himself a few centimeters from my face. His breath, smelling of aluminum and a familiar floral scent, wafts over me as he says, “Guess you won’t be stabbing me after all.”
I kick him in the shin and gasp as pain radiates from my big toe all the way up my foot and into my calf.
He chuckles, grabbing my other wrist. “Hurts, doesn’t it?”
My mouth dry with nerves and my knees still shaking, I shout, “Leave me alone!”
To my surprise, he complies; but not by choice. Losing his stupid grin, he freezes and his eyebrows go up as if something’s stunned him. Stumbling backwards, his grip on my wrists relaxes, and those shiny eyes of his roll back in their sockets. He falls to the floor in a large c
rumpled heap.
Every part of my body shaking, I look down at him in confusion. What just happened?
On the other side of his body, Esther Reams appears out of thin air and I scream. Her eye as black as ever, she wears jeans and a navy blue T-shirt; in her left hand she holds the tiny tubular device she’d been carrying when I decked her in the school parking lot. She shoves it into the pocket of her jeans and extends a hand in my direction.
I stare at her, speechless.
“Karen, it’s okay. I’m here to help. Everything’s going to be fine.” For once Esther isn’t looking straight through me. Instead, her gaze doesn’t leave mine as she beckons me. “But this guy’s going to wake up in, like, seconds,” she continues, wiggling her fingers in earnest, “so you need to come with me right now. Come on, take my hand.”
I blink back at her. “I don’t understand.”
“I know.” Esther glances at the man, who’s already begun to stir. “Once we’re safe, I’ll explain everything. But for now, just take my hand.”
This makes no sense, but what choice do I have? I take a step forward and do as Esther asks. Her hand is warm as she loops her fingers through mine. I look down at our entwined fingers. “Why do I need to hold your-”
“You’ll see,” Esther cuts in. She tightens her grasp. “Whatever you do, don’t let go. Got it?”
“Uh, yeah.”
The man grunts and I eye him nervously. How did Esther knock him out like that?
“Hold on,” she says. The words have barely left her lips when my little sister’s room bursts into a blur of colors, all of them bleeding into each other. Completely paralyzed, I can’t move. But I hear my every breath, loud and echoing in my skull. A multitude of tingling sensations erupt throughout my body; it’s like I’m feeling my every cell at work.
I try to ask Esther what’s happening, but the paralysis prevents me from opening my mouth. And then, as quickly as the immobilization and blurring of reality took hold, it ends.
The world is once again still.
Gasping for breath, I look around and recognize my surroundings. Esther and I are no longer in Tessa’s room. Instead, we’re somehow on the cement path that leads to the front door of my house. My house is behind us and Nathaniel stands in front of us. Pale and wide-eyed, he stares at me in confusion, his mom’s car parked just a few feet behind him.
