Strange Girl

by Christopher Pike

  “What religion are you?” Mrs. Weldon asked.

  “I don’t have one,” Aja said.

  “Who do you worship?” Mr. Weldon asked. “Where does your power to heal come from?”

  Nothing from Aja. Mrs. Weldon shook her head, unhappy. Levitt tried hard not to look smug. An old boxer, he knew he’d won the first round without even having to lay a hand on Aja.

  “How do we know if she even has power?” Levitt posed the question to the audience before turning back to Aja. “Roughly two weeks after the concert in Rapid City, you went with Fred to Balen Memorial. During the night his friend, the same Mike Garcia I already mentioned, had suffered a serious head wound during a drug bust. Mike was operated on by a nationally known surgeon named Dr. Albert Rosen. Mike was on the table for ten hours and according to the nurses on staff wasn’t expected to live. But he did survive—he made what some are calling a miraculous recovery.” Levitt paused. “Care to comment?”

  Aja remained silent.

  “Did you heal him?” Levitt asked.

  “The Big Person heals. But this body—with Mike—this body was involved.”

  “What are you saying?” Levitt said.

  “It’s difficult to explain with words.”

  “Words are all we have, child,” Levitt said. “We only want to know the truth. Who helped Mike Garcia more? You or Dr. Rosen?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “They both helped save my life,” Mike called out, standing up beside me. “But Aja helped me more.”

  “Sit down. I didn’t call on you,” Levitt said.

  “You’re talking about my head. I have a right to speak.”

  Levitt paused, no doubt sensing the crowd was on Mike’s side. He said, “It’s my understanding you were unconscious when Aja supposedly worked her magic on you. How do you know what she did?”

  Mike glanced at me; I shook my head. There was no way I wanted him to bring up his near-death experience. It would take too long to explain and it would sound too fantastic.

  But our gang had decided that since Aja refused to lie and act like an ordinary girl, then there was no point in us trying to hide her healing abilities.

  “When I woke up the nurses told me what happened when Aja put her hands on my head,” Mike said. “My vitals stabilized. The pressure inside my skull vanished. The nurses were the ones who said it was a miracle.”

  “I’m impressed,” Levitt said. “But to be frank I’d be more impressed if you hadn’t been in a drug dealer’s house when you got hurt.”

  Mike was ready for him. He addressed the crowd. “I screwed up, I admit that. But thanks to Aja, I was given another chance. I’m not going to screw up again, I promise you.”

  Many in the audience applauded, including the parents.

  “Let’s move along,” Levitt said. “It’s time we discussed the young girl who brought so much attention to our school. Most of you know who I’m talking about—Lisa Alastair. If we are to believe the stories that are being told, up until one week ago Lisa had a giant tumor in her head. I’m sure you’ve all seen the X-rays of her skull on the Internet—the ‘before Aja’ and ‘after Aja’ pictures. At first the media didn’t give the story much weight, especially when Lisa’s parents denied Aja had healed Lisa. But with pressure from the press the parents finally broke down and admitted their daughter had been healed by Aja. Personally, I find their flip-flopping disturbing. If Aja did in fact heal Lisa, why did they lie about it at the start?”

  Dale stood on my other side. “They were trying to protect Aja.”

  “Dale,” Levitt said. “Raise your hand if you wish to speak.”

  “I apologize, Mr. Levitt,” Dale said. “Do I have your permission to respond?”

  The principal glanced around the stands. He personally liked Dale. Everyone liked Dale. “Go ahead,” he said.

  Dale turned and gestured as he spoke, trying to address everyone at the same time. “Most of you know that Mike, Fred, Janet, Shelly, and I are close to Aja. From the start we knew she was special but it took us time to realize just how special. By the time we knew she could heal, we saw something else—that sometimes the miracles she worked wore her out, made her sick. For that reason we tried to protect her. We were the ones who asked Mr. and Mrs. Alastair to lie about their daughter’s healing. And we were the ones who—”

  “How exactly did Aja heal Lisa?” Levitt interrupted.

  “Excuse me?” Dale said.

  “It’s my understanding Aja didn’t meet with Lisa. That she only spoke with her father on the phone. So my question is—how did Aja heal someone she didn’t touch? Someone she couldn’t even be bothered to drive over and see?”

  “Aja should probably answer that question,” Dale said. “But before she does I’d like to say something I’ve observed about her healing. All the stuff we’ve seen in the movies and on TV—the laying on of hands and the staring in the eyes—none of that seems to apply to her. She just has to be told that someone’s sick and that’s enough for the Big Person to heal that person through her. Whether Aja meets with them or not is irrelevant.”

  Levitt snorted. “I find that hard to believe.”

  A freshman named Stacey Kataekiss jumped to her feet. “Believe it,” she said. “It happened to my mother yesterday.”

  Levitt was taken aback. “What happened to your mother?”

  Stacey went to speak but emotion got the best of her. She broke down sobbing. “I don’t know,” she wept. “I just know she’s better.”

  “I know Barbara,” a woman named Mrs. Evelyn Green said, standing. Beside her stood her husband, Mr. Samuel Green, holding on to the handles of a banged-up wheelchair he had maneuvered into the gym. In the chair sat a dark-haired girl around ten years old. She was spastic; she kept jerking in her seat. I didn’t recognize her but I knew Mr. Green. He taught chemistry and physics at a small four-year college in Balen. The guy was a genius; he had two PhDs.

  Mrs. Green was well known in Elder because of the successful florist shop she ran downtown, two doors away from city hall. I’d once bought a dozen roses from her for Nicole and she had shocked me by saying that I was wasting my time and money. That Nicole was still in love with Rick, which turned out to be true. Mrs. Green was a great one for tough love. She was also extremely religious. She headed up the choir for a large Baptist church in Balen.

  Mr. and Mrs. Green’s son, David, was in my physics class and was an unfortunate example of how intelligence often skipped a generation. But the girl—I had no idea who she was. Or why the Greens had brought her.

  “Most of you know Barbara,” Mrs. Green said. “She has multiple sclerosis. She’s spent the last two years in a wheelchair. Her legs, arms, and hands—they’re useless. Or I should say they were useless. I saw her today—after you, Stacey, appealed to Aja for help. Barbara still can’t walk. Her muscles and tendons and ligaments have atrophied after being sick so long. But she’s regained feeling in her arms and legs. It came back to her overnight, like a miracle.” Mrs. Green paused and stared at my girlfriend. “Did you do that, Aja?”

  Aja had been standing with her head bowed but now she looked up. Mrs. Green had spoken to her in a gentle tone and perhaps Aja sensed her sincerity for she looked at the woman a long time before answering.

  “This body is flesh. It cannot heal other bodies.”

  “But this Big Person you speak of . . . can it heal?” Mrs. Green said.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m a Christian. I’ve been raised to believe that Christ is the only begotten son of God. That’s what the Bible says—that Jesus is the ultimate source of all true miracles. Even if a saint or prophet appears to do the healing. Are you saying the Bible’s wrong?”

  Aja spoke clearly, without hesitation. “People all over the world believe in their own holy books. They read them in search of wholeness. But wholeness cannot be found when you see yourself as your body. It cannot be found when you see only through your mind. True wholeness—what I call
the Big Person—is beyond the mind and body.”

  Mrs. Green was intrigued. “So you’re saying this Big Person is inside me as well as you?”

  “Yes. The only difference is you call it Jesus Christ.”

  A sigh went through the crowd. They liked that answer. They liked when Aja said things that made them feel comfortable about their existing beliefs. But I knew my girlfriend and I knew comfort was not a priority with her. I waited for the ax to fall.

  I didn’t have long to wait.

  “Lies!” a tall, burly gentleman in a navy blue suit shouted from the back row of the adults. It was the Reverend Todd Basken. He lived in Elder and his son went to school with the rest of us but his Pentecostal church was in Balen, where there were a hundred times more people to draw upon. He called himself “God’s Todd,” and he sure knew how to pack them in. He was an intense fire-and-brimstone kind of guy who loved to call on the Holy Spirit and “JESUS!!!” to get the juices flowing up and down the spines of his worshippers.

  “This Big Person is not Christ!” Reverend Basken shouted. “That’s blasphemy and I’m disappointed you’re even listening to her, Evelyn. Now let’s quit messing around and get down to it. Aja, obviously you have some kind of power. I didn’t come here to label you a charlatan. But it distresses me that you don’t heal in the name of God. It disturbs me even more that you refuse to call upon the name of Jesus when you heal. Why don’t you? Why do the names of God and Jesus Christ frighten you so?” He stopped to shake his fist. “Tell us the truth! What is the real source of your power?”

  Aja smiled. She looked as happy as a child on Christmas morning. She glanced in my direction, and I knew, I just knew, she was going to say something that would bring the house down.

  “You’re thinking I’m the Harlot in Revelation,” Aja said.

  God’s Todd slapped his hands together. “Yes, by God! Are you her?”

  “No. But I wish I was.”

  The gymnasium exploded. There was laughter, booing, hooting—close to a thousand people basically losing it. Dale and Mike just looked at me. There was nothing to say. Again, it didn’t matter how serious the situation. Aja was onstage and she was playing a part. She didn’t care about the consequences. The noise shook the building. It took forever before things settled down.

  Reverend Basken, God’s Todd, looked like the cat who had just swallowed the canary; reveling in the fact that he had exposed Aja for the demon succubus that she was. His arms were lifted high. He was thanking Jesus for helping him deliver the truth to our poor, misguided high school.

  “So the truth is finally told!” he shouted from the top of his mountain as he lowered his right arm and pointed a damning finger at Aja. “Now I command you in the name of Jesus to tell us who your master is!”

  The gym fell dead silent. Except for Aja.

  She giggled like a little girl.

  Mrs. Green walked over to Aja’s microphone stand and gently gestured to Aja to stand aside. She spoke to Basken. “For heaven’s sake, Todd. Don’t be a goat’s ass. This girl hasn’t said a word against Christ or our beliefs. And she’s certainly not working for the Devil.”

  Reverend Basken suddenly looked like he might be having a little trouble with that canary he just swallowed. Nevertheless, he managed to respond in a booming voice. “How do you know?” he demanded.

  Mrs. Green quoted, “ ‘Beware of false prophets who come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly are ravenous wolves. You will know them by their fruits. Grapes are not gathered from thornbushes nor figs from thistles, are they? So every good tree bears good fruit, but the bad tree bears bad fruit.’ ” Mrs. Green paused. “You know Barbara. You know how she’s suffered. Only someone anointed by God would have the power to heal like Aja does.”

  God’s Todd didn’t have an answer for that one. But perhaps Levitt did. He spoke from atop the podium. “I disagree. We have absolutely no proof this girl has healed anyone,” he said.

  “Oh, shut up, William,” Mrs. Green said. “We have all the proof we need. The question is how does her ability fit in with our own view of the world? That’s what I’m wrestling with.” Mrs. Green turned back to Aja. “Can you tell us more about this Big Person? How it came to you?”

  Aja didn’t respond, but she did continue to study the woman, who stood only three feet away. They were basically sharing the microphone.

  “Please,” Mrs. Green said. “It would help us to understand.”

  Aja finally nodded. “You are sincere in your search. I was very young when the change happened to me but I believe I shared that quality with you. Keep going the way you’re going. The Big Person will seek you out.”

  “She’s saying something important,” Dale whispered.

  “Thank God for Mrs. Green,” Mike said.

  “This change—what triggered it in you?” Mrs. Green asked.

  Aja shook her head. “It was years ago. It’s not important. Now is what matters. Your sincerity is what’s important. Keep seeking the truth and it will find you.”

  “But is there a way? A path?” Mrs. Green asked.

  Aja considered. “I’m no teacher. I only know this—the Big Person is here now. In each and every person in this room, in an equal amount. As much as you long for it, it longs for you more. Take one step toward the Big Person and it will take a hundred steps toward you.”

  Did the auditorium sigh again? I was sure of it. I had never heard Aja speak with such passion. It was like the Big Person itself was speaking through her. I sensed a timelessness all around. I knew Mrs. Green felt it as well.

  “May I ask a favor of you, Aja?” Mrs. Green said.

  Aja waited, saying nothing.

  Mrs. Green pointed to the girl in the wheelchair. “I’ve brought my niece here tonight, Katie. Recently her mother—my sister—died in a car accident. My husband and I have been taking care of Katie since then. As you can see, Katie is badly handicapped. She suffers from cerebral palsy. It’s a different condition than Barbara has but . . . well, I was just wondering if you could help her.” Her voice broke and she wiped away a tear. “God help me, I hate putting you on the spot.”

  Again, the auditorium fell silent.

  I could have heard a pin drop. . . .

  If not for the pounding of my heart.

  “Your friends were worried about you. Dale was crying and Fred was struggling to figure out a way to make things better. . . . But I didn’t feel any motion in the Big Person. No big fish swam by. . . . It was then this body—no, it was then Aja thought to do something to fix you.”

  Aja walked toward the pale, young girl who seemed to be clawing at the right side of her wheelchair. Yet Katie took note of Aja. She looked up as she approached. Maybe she saw something in her the rest of us couldn’t. Aja knelt at her shriveled feet, hidden in a pair of red slippers, and a wave of relaxation went through the girl. Her clawing motion stopped. Her fingers lengthened and straightened as Aja took her hands. But then I saw Aja wince, a momentary flash of pain.

  I stood. “Aja! Stop!” I cried.

  Aja turned her head in my direction.

  “It will be okay,” I thought I heard her say. I was not reassured. I dashed onto the basketball court, wove around Principle Levitt’s stand. When I reached Aja, I literally ripped her hands off Katie. I heard a groan from the audience; I don’t think many approved. But I didn’t give a damn what they thought. I spoke to Mrs. Green, who stood nearby.

  “Please, don’t ask this,” I said, my palms resting on Aja’s shoulders. “Whenever Aja heals, it has to happen automatically. If she does it because you begged her to do it—it’ll hurt her.”

  Mrs. Green looked back and forth between Aja—who continued to kneel on the auditorium floor—and Katie. The woman sighed. “Fred’s right, Aja, you have to stop. Katie’s hurting you.”

  Aja finally rose to her feet, her gaze still fixed on the girl in the wheelchair. “I can help her,” she whispered.

  Mrs. Green approached and took A
ja’s hands in hers. “I know you want to heal her, child. That’s enough—that you tried. Some things are meant to be.” Mrs. Green let go of Aja and touched her niece’s head. “This is God’s will.”

  I took Aja by the arm, began to pull her away. Aja stumbled right then; I feared it was because she was drained. Katie appeared to understand that Aja had improved her condition. She managed a twisted smile and Aja smiled back. Mrs. Green wiped away a tear.

  As far as I was concerned the evening was over. The meeting should have ended then. Mrs. Green had turned the tide of the inquisition. Aja was an angel, a kind soul at least, she wasn’t a demon. I felt Aja had proven that much. But then, I’d never understood how deeply true believers felt about their beliefs.

  Macy Barnes, our student body president, raised her hand and Levitt quickly called on her. Wearing blue jeans and a thick, wool, white sweater, she stepped to the microphone on the floor, standing only a few feet off to our left. If Macy was nervous she didn’t show it.

  “I’m grateful Mrs. Green quoted that portion of the Bible,” Macy began. “ ‘Beware of false prophets who come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly are ravenous wolves. You will know them by their fruits.’ Those lines have guided me throughout my life. Because I’ve discovered that people can say anything—it doesn’t matter whether they’re young or old. They can promise you anything. Listening to Aja’s deeds, it sounds like she can promise a lot. A friend of hers hits a soldier over the head with a whiskey bottle. No problem, Aja is there to fix the man. The same friend gets caught in a drug bust—a bust where he was buying drugs to sell at our school. Again, no problem, Aja heals his head and he walks out of the hospital—and out of the courtroom—a few days later. Like he’s done nothing wrong.” Macy paused. “I’m sorry, I have a problem with that.”

  “Why?” someone shouted from the top bleachers.

  Macy nodded. “That’s a fair question. Most of what Aja has done has seemed—on the surface—to be wonderful. She’s healed the sick and she’s handed out sound life advice. But when I study how she conducts her own life I have to wonder if any of us should be listening to her. Let’s take the example of what happened at Benny’s a week ago. Benny’s is an expensive restaurant in Balen. Friends of my parents were dining there that night and told me what happened. I have a word-for-word transcript of what was said.” Macy held up a piece of paper. “A couple walked up to Aja and Fred—you all know Fred—while they were eating dessert. The woman was distraught. She tried to tell Aja about her sick daughter, Keko, who had leukemia. Fred got annoyed and told her to leave them alone. The woman persisted—she told them her daughter was dying. That she had only two or three months to live. Again, Fred told them to go away. Aja didn’t say anything. The woman pulled out a picture of her daughter and placed it on the table. She begged Aja to look at Keko. Finally, Aja picked up the picture and said, and I quote, ‘Her body is very tired. It will be okay.’ Instantly, the woman was overcome with relief. She thought Aja was giving her hope. She was so excited she cried, ‘Keko’s going to live?’ Then Aja said flatly, ‘No.’ Just no.”