Miracle

by Pam Tribble

Chapter XIX.

  The trip to Edenvale took five hours due to closed mountain passes and icy roads. Jet and Jonah arrived in time for lunch, but Jonah, not wanting to socialize, passed. Plus, it felt like a nest of snakes had been loosed in his stomach.

  Dr. Quinton met with them that afternoon to go over the various tests the staff would be putting Jonah through, beginning the following day. First, he would receive a complete physical exam including blood work. The first several days would consist of strength and endurance work-outs in the morning, analyses of his psychic, telepathic, and telekinetic abilities in the afternoons. They would take off Christmas Eve and Day, then resume with a reversal of the morning/afternoon schedule. Jonah was not happy with that news. He did not want to just sit around for two days drinking wassail and joining the Christmas carol sing-a-long.

  Jet, sensing what Jonah was thinking, sent him a warning look. Jonah scowled, but kept his mouth shut.

  Jonah was also surprised, and disgruntled, to learn that mandatory psychological evaluations had been instituted since he was here last. Before, only kids who were obviously disturbed went to see the shrink. Now, everyone who came to the institute had to undergo an evaluation.

  “We’ve found that, for the most part, kids who come to this institute fall into two categories, Jonah,” Dr. Quinton stated. “Those who are ashamed and afraid of the powers they possess…”

  Jonah squirmed in his seat uncomfortably.

  “…and those with a God complex,” he finished.

  At Jonah’s curious look, Dr. Quinton explained. “The latter individuals think that their enhanced mental and physical strengths put them above the average human being. They use, manipulate, and even harm others to get what they want or simply for their own twisted amusement.

  “Discovering and controlling your abilities is not enough, Jonah. How you view yourself—your life beliefs, your attitude toward and relationships with others—will determine your future. We want you—and all the students here at Edenvale—to have the best possible future and use your special gifts for the betterment of yourself and world we live in.”

  Dr. Quinton continued to gaze at Jonah when he’d finished speaking. He seemed to be waiting for Jonah to question or comment on what he’d said.

  Jonah simply nodded. He got it. He didn’t like it, but he got it.

  “And let me mention one last thing before you leave,” Dr. Quinton said as he stood to walk them back to the common room. “This won’t be unfamiliar to you, Jonah, because of your extensive martial arts training. I want you to practice your relaxation techniques when you wake up in the morning and before bed each night. You will learn some new ones while you are here as well. Before all of your psychic analyses, the instructor will walk you through one.”

  Jonah had stood and they were walking toward the door.

  “I’m sure you’d agree,” Dr. Quinton continued, putting an affectionate hand on Jonah’s shoulder, “that living out among regular people, you have to keep your guard up. You’ve probably repressed more of your extrasensory abilities than you realize.

  “But you are safe here. You are free to let loose and test the limits your true potential.”

  Jonah nodded and escaped Dr. Quinton’s perceptive eye. The thought of ‘letting loose’ and giving free reign to his ‘true potential’ terrified him. What if that true potential caused houses to explode and people to die?

  Well, that’s what he was here for, right? To find out.

  After the meeting and having settled into their rooms, Jonah and Jet walked around the facility. The location was remote, miles from any town or even other residences. The main building, an older estate home (donated many years ago), remained unchanged. There were several new outbuildings which housed the examination/class rooms. Everything was connected by cement walkways above-ground and corresponding tunnels below.

  The grounds were deserted. All that could be heard was the wind whistling through the trees and the crunch of their steps on the recently cleared path. The stark landscape of white and gray, and the black of tree trunks, was broken only by the low-lying red brick buildings they passed.

  They hadn’t spoken since leaving Dr. Quinton. “Thanks for bringing me, Jet,” Jonah said, finally breaking the silence. “I’m sorry you have to spend your Christmas here.”

  He stopped, a thought occurring suddenly. “Of course, you don’t have to stay here the whole time. I won’t get my feelings hurt if you want to go back…”

  “Jonah,” Jet interrupted, holding up a gloved hand. “You are my family. Who else would I be spending Christmas with? No one. I’d be alone. This is not an inconvenience to me at all.” He paused; then continued hesitantly. “And, if the truth be known—forgive me, Jonah—I’m actually quite thrilled to be here.”

  Jonah searched his face. Yes, he could see it now. Either he hadn’t been paying attention before, or his uncle had been trying to conceal it, but Jet’s eyes danced with excitement.

  Jonah turned and resumed walking, not knowing what to say.

  “I’m sorry, Jonah,” Jet continued, his voice imploring. “I know this is difficult for you. I do not find pleasure in your trials. But…it’s like being invited to tour Area 54 in Roswell, New Mexico. Imagine having a free pass to see all those frozen alien bodies and their wrecked spaceship.”

  Jonah laughed. He couldn’t help himself. “So now I rank with aliens, huh? I’m glad to know your opinion of me.” He chuckled again. “That may be a very appropriate comparison, actually.”

  “You know what I mean!” Jet huffed. His voice was exasperated, but Jonah heard the relief too.

  They had reached the farthest buildings comprising Edenvale and the path circled back to the main house. They discussed the things they’d each observed, what had changed and what had remained the same. When they got back, Jonah left his uncle to go to his room.

  Dinner that night was not as bad as Jonah had feared. A long table ran the length of the formal dining room where adults and children ate together, but it was all very casual. Dr. Quinton was not strict on etiquette. The room was filled with the exuberant chatter and laughter of the twenty or so students in residence, ranging in age from seven to nineteen. It seemed everyone was excited about Christmas. A few of the older kids eyed him curiously, but most were unconcerned with the presence of guests.

  When the long day was over, Jonah lay in the unfamiliar bed and stared at the ceiling. He was anxious about the testing, but oddly at ease too. It had been so long since he’d been around others like himself. It was kind of liberating.

  Remembering the scene in the dining room, he understood that the kids here were all just a motley group of typical youths…with very atypical capabilities. They were neither good nor bad. They simply were. Perhaps his father had been right in his theories. Or maybe there were no explanations. Either way, they were human beings who wanted to belong somewhere, who wanted to be accepted and loved. And to have some fun, it appeared. Over dinner, challenges had been issued and bets taken. There was to be a colossal snowball fight the next day after lessons were over. Remembering some of the more bloated claims and inventive threats, Jonah chuckled, rolled over.

  If he condemned himself, he had to condemn every one of those kids there. And he couldn’t do that. For the first time that he could remember, Jonah drifted off to sleep with a feeling, if he had to name it, he might have called hope.