Abandoning his usual seat in the back with his buddies, Carter sat on the front row in the desk next to hers. That seat was normally empty, and Mary liked to put her book bag on it.
"Hello," he greeted when she sat down.
She lowered her voice to a whisper. "What're you doing here?"
He looked at her curiously. "I am here for class."
"No, I mean what are you doing in that desk?" she asked. "Don't you normally sit in the back?"
Carter glanced at the back row. His friends shot back some icy glares.
He looked at her again. "I will move if that is what you want me to do."
The bell rang.
Mary sighed and put her bag on the floor. "No, forget about it."
Mrs. Stanton began the lesson. Mary took some notes, but after scrawling down a few lines, she stole a subtle glance in Carter's direction. He was still looking at her.
Mary made a silent gesture with her hands. "What?"
Carter didn't seem to understand what she was saying. He made a similar gesture.
Mary stared at him. She made the "what" gesture again just as Mrs. Stanton turned from the board.
"Miss Phan," she said.
Mary cringed. "Yes ma'am?"
"Is there something that you and Mr. Maxwell would like to share with the rest of us?" she asked.
Several people giggled, and Mary felt herself turn beet red. "No ma'am."
Mrs. Stanton looked at Carter. "Where's your stuff?"
He wrinkled his brow. "My stuff?"
"Yes, your stuff," she repeated. "Where are your notes and textbook?"
"Oh," he said. "I do not have those items with me."
"Where are they?"
"I do not know." He said. "But I will search for them if you wish."
More giggles.
"That'd be nice, but it doesn't do you any good here now," she said. "Miss Phan, please share your book."
Great, Mary thought. Not only did Carter take her book bag's spot and get her in trouble, she had to share her book with him, too. She was starting to get irritated.
"Thank you," Carter said. "But that is not necessary."
Mrs. Stanton peered over the top of her confetti-colored glasses. "Is that so? Have you read through and memorized your whole textbook then?"
"No ma'am," he said. "Not all of it. But parts of it. It contains several errors."
Mary looked back and forth between Carter and the teacher. What was going on?
"Like what?" Mrs. Stanton asked.
"In the beginning," he said, "the authors wrote that the universe is made of three dimensions—space, time, and matter. With matter being mass over energy."
"And?" she said.
"The writers did not account for the other dimensions," he said.
Mary. Was. Floored. She had never heard a single smart thing come from Carter's mouth. In fact, she had been convinced that the only way people like him managed to pass from grade to grade was because he cheated or paid people to do his homework.
Mrs. Stanton blinked. "Mr. Maxwell, I'm not going to get into a discussion with you now about errors and theories. But if you like, we can talk later. Until then, share a book with Miss Phan and bring yours next time." She turned back to the board to continue the lesson.
Mary looked at Carter. He was smiling, and she suddenly wanted to smack him with her book. But she did as the teacher said and moved it between them so that they could see it together.
When the last bell rang, Mary started to leave with the others, but Mrs. Stanton said, "A word, Miss Phan and Mr. Maxwell."
Mary sighed and went up to the teacher's desk with Carter.
Mrs. Stanton removed her glasses. "I realize you both are dealing with some things right now. Considering what happened last week. I want you both to know that if either of you are having any trouble at all, I am here to help."
"Thank you, ma'am," they said in unison.
"But I also want you both to know that class will continue as normal, and I will not tolerate any disruptions while I'm teaching," she said. "If you need something in particular, please discuss it with me before or afterwards. Otherwise, I expect you to behave yourselves. Understood?"
They nodded. Carter a bit more dramatically.
"Good." Mrs. Stanton put her glasses back on. "I'll see you both tomorrow."
Mary turned and walked out of the room as fast as she could.
"Mary?" Carter asked as he followed.
"What?"
"You are upset."
Captain Obvious makes another appearance. "I'm annoyed," she clarified.
"Because of something I did?" he asked.
"No. Yes. Just…never mind."
"If you will tell me what I did to annoy you, I will make every effort to—"
She stopped and jabbed her index finger at him. "You wanna know what's annoying? This. Following me, asking dumb questions, not using contractions. It's all very annoying, Carter."
He looked at her in surprise. "I do not…use contractions?"
"No, you do not." Of all the English-y things Mary learned over the years, contractions were the only things that she remembered.
Carter cocked his head to the side. "She has noticed?"
What was his deal? Now he was talking like she wasn't standing right in front of him. "Uh, yeah she has noticed," Mary said. "It's kinda hard not to notice someone talking like a robot."
His expression turned to confusion. With a hint of fear. It was as if he had accidentally revealed something that he wasn't supposed to.
Mary took advantage of his distraction and left the building. She crossed the street and boarded the waiting bus, which closed its doors just behind her. She took a seat near the middle and hugged her bag.
Sienna was wrong, Mary thought. Carter Maxwell wasn't just different. He may have looked like him and sounded like him. But he wasn't the same person anymore.
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- 8 -
Phases
On her way to the library, Mary stopped by the corner convenience store to buy some apple juice and a cookie. When she went to pay, the woman behind the counter told her the price in Vietnamese.
Mary sighed. "How many times do I have to tell you I don't speak Viet?"
"How many time I tew you to lun?" she retorted. "Tew yo mommy to teach you."
"Like she's got time," Mary said. "And besides, we're in America. Learn how to say prices in English!"
"My English bettuh dan yo Vietnamee!"
Mary sighed and left. There was no winning with her.
At the public library, Mary caught up on homework she had missed during her absence. She tried to keep her mind off the day. Part of her felt awful for snapping at Carter like she did. Part of her felt justified.
None of it felt right.
When she finally got her homework to cooperate, Mary took out her sketchbook. She could think well when she drew. She started drawing and shading in the various phases of the moon. Something nice about the moon was that even though it looked different from the Earth at different times, it was still the same moon. It changed, but it was consistent.
The pencil lead broke, and suddenly Mary realized what bothered her about the whole Carter thing. Before the accident, he may have been a jerk. But at least he was a consistent jerk. She didn't know what to make of this "new" Carter, and that scared her a little. Was this polite kick that he was on just a phase? What if the part of his brain that the crash knocked out of order wobbled its way back in place and he went back to his former self? Whatever the case was, Mary didn't want to be caught off guard and start trusting this new, polite, contraction-lacking Carter. Especially if he wasn't staying. Still, that didn't give her the liberty to be a jerk herself.
The time came for her to head to Agape. When Mary arrived, she met Ba in the dining room at their usual table. Mary walked around to her front and greeted her. "Hi Ba."
Ba's face lit up. "Hi Con. You made it just in time."
Mary also greeted the others at the table. There was Julia, a wicked good gin player, and her roommate Emma, a jolly black lady who carried her frayed Holy Bible wherever she went. On the other side was George, whose dentures never quite fit right. And finally, there were Mr. and Mrs. Penny, who were married last year when he was only ninety-two and she was ninety.
"All right, who's hungry?" Mom asked as she came into the room with containers filled with bánh cuốn, the slippery Vietnamese rice crepes filled with all manner of goodness. Mary helped her tear up the herbs, sprinkle in the mung bean sprouts, and pour on the fish sauce. They served everyone at the table. Most of them ate with forks and knives, but Mary, Mom, and Ba used chopsticks.
"So how was your day at school, Con?" Ba asked.
"It was all right," Mary answered.
"Oh, you know what?" Mom asked. She caught herself suddenly, remembering their agreement not to let Ba know about the accident. "Uh...what I mean is, you know that boy who had that car accident you told me about. What was his name? Carter?"
Nice save. "What about him?" Mary asked.
"I asked about him," Mom said. "You know, just curious. Did you know he was released just a couple days after the accident?"
Mary picked at her food. "Yeah. I know."
Ba looked at her out of the corner of her eye. But she didn't say anything.
"Did you see him at school?" Mom asked.
Mary nodded. "It was kinda hard to avoid him."
"Who is this boy?" Mrs. Penny asked. "Is he a friend of yours, Mary?"
Mary hesitated. She suddenly wished that Mom hadn't brought Carter up. "No, I'm not friends with him. He just goes to my school and everyone was talking about how he was in a bad accident. But he seems fine now."
Mary and Mom exchanged glances.
"Sounds like a miracle from the good Lord," Emma said. "God Almighty preserved that boy for great things. Amen."
"Amen nothin'," George said. He wasn't wearing his teeth, since the bánh cuốn were slippery and didn't need much chewing. "Did I e'er tell y'all 'bout the time I was workin' my granddaddy's farm and I nearly sliced off my left leg at the knee?"
"Yes," they answered in unison.
"Please don't tell it again, George. We're eating," Julia said.
He ignored her. "They thought I was gonna die from all the blood I lost. Already started makin' funeral arrangements. I'm tellin' ya, I lost more blood that day than I e'er did in all my time in Korea."
"You were a cook on a base, George," Julia reminded him.
"And dangerous work it was, woman!" he snapped. "Like ta see you try and feed a mess of men with rifles everyday for three years on powdered taters and condensed milk."
Mary set down her chopsticks. "Mom? Have you ever heard of someone…changing? Like, after a traumatic experience?"
"Sure, honey," she said. "Trauma can do a lot of things to people's minds and bodies."
"Did I e'er tell y'all 'bout how I had post-trauma after Korea?" George chimed in. "One time, I was dreamin' I was fightin' a buncha North Koreans, and I kicked my sweet Betty—may her soul rest in peace—"
"Amen," Emma added.
"—kicked her right outta bed. The woman couldn't sit straight for days."
"I've heard of things like that," Mary said. "But I was wondering if a traumatic experience can change someone for better. What if they were suddenly really, really, really nice when being nice is unusual for them?"
"I've heard many a time when people were snatched out of the jaws of death, and they turned from their wicked ways and confessed the Lord Jesus their savior," Emma said. "Amen!"
Mom smiled. "To answer your question, Sweetie, yes. Trauma can bring good out in people, too. Sometimes they realize how precious life is, and they don't want to waste anymore time not appreciating it."
Mary thought for a moment. Then she asked, "Has there ever been times when they changed back? You know, to the way they were before the trauma?"
"Look at me! I'm proof!" George said.
"There are treatments," Mom answered. "And sometimes people just decide to go back to the way things were. But that doesn't mean the trauma never happened."
"If you don't mind me, dear," Mrs. Penny said, "why do you ask? Do you know someone like that?"
Mary shrugged. "I was just wondering."
After dinner, they played Scrabble. George insisted that "cu" was a word, which sent Mary on a hunt through the Agape game room for a dictionary. Some of the residents were watching a movie on the TV in there.
Mary was about to go back to the others when a terrific crash! caught her attention. She turned just in time to see a guy in the movie get creamed by a bus. She lingered for a while and watched as an ancient ghost possessed his body. Mary had seen this movie before. Unlike the pre-bus guy, who was rather clumsy and light-hearted, the possessed one spoke clearly, directly, and politely.
Politely.
Mary dropped the dictionary. She didn't really believe in paranormal and supernatural stuff. But Carter's polite speech and his miraculous, for lack of a better word, recovery just didn't make sense in the natural world.
And then there were his eyes.
Mary never forgot how his eyes opened for a split second while he was hunched over in the wrecked car. And she didn't forget the tear she saw in the emergency room, which only came after the doctors were ready to pronounce him dead.
What if Carter wasn't suffering from brain damage? What if that wasn't him who had looked at her? Or had shed that tear? What if something, like a soul from that Italian hell she read about in English, had taken hold of his body like this guy in this movie? Was it possible outside of the movies?
Was Carter Maxwell possessed?
Back to Table of Contents
- 9 -
Convinced
Mary couldn't sleep that night. The ideas kept racing through her head. And just when she was about to slip into slumber, a new slew of thoughts would arise and stir things up again. They only paused when the alarm clock went off.
She showered, dressed, and met Mom in the kitchen for breakfast.
"Are you eating dinner with Ba again tonight?" Mom asked.
Mary shook her head. "I've still gotta catch up on some things. I'll stop by and see her for a little bit, but I'll come home to study. Do you want me to get a burger or something and bring it to you for dinner?"
"No, you don't have to do that," Mom said.
Mary looked at her. "You need to remember to eat."
"Yes doctor," Mom chuckled. "But I've got it covered with leftovers. By the way, your eyes look a little red. Did you sleep well last night?"
Mary stirred her cereal. "I've got a lot on my mind."
"Want to talk about it?"
"Not really."
Mom stared at her for a moment. "Well, if you change your mind, you always know I'm here."
"I know. Thanks."
Mary hadn't finished her cereal by the time breakfast was over. After she kissed her mother and said goodbye, she headed for the bus stop. At school, her radar immediately went up for Carter. But she didn't see him in the halls. During Pre-Cal, she kept wondering if he would be waiting outside the door like he did yesterday when class was over. But he wasn't. She didn't see him after Art, nor did she find him when she meandered by the lunchroom and the computer lab. English was hell again. But still no Carter in the hall.
Finally, Mary arrived in Physics. Carter, wearing that thick black sweater again, sat in his usual seat on the back row. He didn't talk to his friends, and they ignored him as well.
Mary took her seat and tried to concentrate on the lesson. She stole a couple glances back and saw that Carter had his book, but it wasn't open and he didn't take any notes. Also, his eyes stayed forward.
When the final bell rang, Mary deliberately put her things away slowly. She watched out the corner of her eye as Carter put the strap of his bag over his shoulder and walked to the front of the room. She waited for him to come say hello.
But he didn't. He walked out of the room without even looking her way.
Mary wasn't disappointed. She was hurt. And she knew that she deserved it for talking to him the way she did yesterday.
She shouldered her bag and left the room. Before she could leave, she needed to swing by David's locker and remind him to return her expensive brush. He had a project to finish during lunch, and he asked if he could use her "bling" brush. David did help her before on other things, so Mary was okay with letting him use it. This one time.
She heard the basketball team practicing in the gym as she passed by. As she headed up a stairwell, she heard giggling. At the top, she saw a tall, gorgeous girl flirting with a tall and semi-gorgeous guy. Mary didn't know the guy, but she recognized the girl as Carter's girlfriend, Laci. Mary lowered her head as she tried to duck past them.
"Hey, you were in that accident," Laci said. "You okay?"
Mary turned. "Oh. Yeah. I'm fine, thanks."
"Good." Laci turned her attention back to the guy.
Mary started to walk up the stairs again. But then she stopped and turned. "You're Carter's girlfriend, aren't you? How's he doing?"
Laci looked at her. "He's okay, I guess. But I'm not his girlfriend."
Mary wrinkled her brow. "You're not?"
"Nah," Laci said. "Not anymore. He's kind of a freak now."
Freak? "Because he's glitchy?" Mary asked.
"That's part of it," Laci said. "He also said some stupid stuff to me. So, I dumped him."
Wow, Mary thought. That accident happened just last week. High school relationships really did rise and fall at the speed of light.
"I see," Mary said. "Well, thanks."
"No prob."
Mary went upstairs and found David waiting for her. "Here's your bling brush," he said, handing it to her. "I washed it and everything. Thanks a bunch for letting me borrow it."
"No problem," she said as she unrolled her brush bag and slipped the long handle into an empty pocket. Mary noticed a slight bruise on the side of his face. "What happened to you?"
He chuckled. "Had a disagreement at our last game." David wasn't really an artist. He was a hockey player. When he moved from Canada with his parents and started going to Lewis Prep, he switched one of his electives to Art because he had a crush on Sienna. "I don't date white guys," Sienna had told him the first time he asked her out. "But I'm not white," he had said. "I'm clear." Sienna didn't go out with him until he asked her a third time, and it was only so that he would stop asking. They'd been together since.
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