by Jason Letts
This pattern of behavior became routine for her. For a handful of days she had managed to avoid interacting with anyone at all. It dug at her though, and she often bit her lip as one does when doing something unpleasant but necessary. Disappointment and jealousy rippled through her when other students laughed and played together. Boys and girls flirted and held hands, but she wasn’t involved in any of it. It got to the point where Mira believed the other students were as used to ignoring her as she was to ignoring them.
“Ok, students,” Fortst said, beginning his lecture. “We’ve talked about knowing your surroundings, and we’ve talked about battle formations, but the most important thing you can know is yourself. You’ve got to know exactly what you’re capable of. You need to be aware of your strengths, and you absolutely must know where and how you are vulnerable—your weaknesses.
“How about we try writing about this? Take out a piece of paper, and write a few sentences about what your power allows you to do and what you can’t do with it. Think about how someone might be able to get around your defenses and attack you. Ok? Go to it.”
Like the other students, Mira took out a sheet of paper, but it just sat there on her desk. Everyone else had begun writing, while Mira scratched her head. This assignment didn’t apply to her. She tried to think about who she was, and looked around at the students in her class who she had begun to get to know. She wrote the words “helpless,” “hopeless,” and “useless.”
“Let’s see if we can’t get a few students to share their ideas with us. Do we have any volunteers?” Fortst surveyed the class. One girl raised her hand. “Ok, Dot, go ahead.”
Dot, a dark-haired, strong-looking girl stood up to read her paper.
“As you know, my gift is accuracy. My body knows how hard I need to throw something and in what direction to hit something else. That’s what I’m capable of. I’m not capable of starting fires with my mind or reading other people’s thoughts or turning water into apple juice or anything else. My weakness is chocolate cake. I just can’t stop myself from eating it. Thank you,” she sat down.
“Wait, wait, stand back up again,” Fortst said. “That was great, but it wasn’t what I meant at all. So with accuracy, you can throw things and they will always hit what you aim for, but what’re your limits? How far can you throw? What is the heaviest thing you can throw? And for your power to work at all, you have to have something to throw, right?
“And by weaknesses I don’t mean all the things you can’t do or what food you can’t stop eating, I mean how could someone turn your power against you, or avoid falling victim to it. So you would be vulnerable in a place with no stones. Maybe a zigzagging target would be able to avoid what you throw. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Dot nodded her head and sat back down.
“Who else wants a go? How about you in the back? We haven’t heard from you in a while.” Mira, stunned, realized that he wanted her to speak. She looked at him incredulously but still rose from her seat.
“But Mr. Fortst!” she said in a forceful whisper.
“Oh, right. Sorry. I forgot.” Mira quickly sat back down, and Fortst called on another student, but that exchange aroused smirks and quizzical glances from her peers. A student named Kurt stood up with his paper in hand.
“I don’t get tired. I can run around the world and never have to stop, but there are limits to how fast I can run. I still sleep a couple of hours a night, so somebody could catch me then. Otherwise in a fight my muscles don’t get tired, so that’s a strength, It’s just too bad I don’t have that much muscle to begin with.”
“Good, ok. That’s more what I’m looking for. Thank you. Let’s move on.”
***
For the rest of the day, Mira felt a surge of anger simmering in her gut. She felt it bubble inside her every time Fortst spoke. He had almost broke his promise and revealed her secret. But time passed and it seemed like nothing would come of it. Just as she had become accustomed to, she bolted for the door as soon as Fortst told them to get out. She shuffled across the clearing on her way to the trail.
“Mira, wait!” She recognized Vern’s voice, and he wasn’t far behind her. A meeting seemed unavoidable, so she stopped and turned.
“What?” she asked. He scratched his head, unsure of how to begin.
“I need to know what your power is. You need to tell me. I can’t figure out what you did and I need to know.” A forceful glare came into his eyes that frightened Mira. The other students who trickled out of the schoolhouse took notice of this confrontation and they collected around Vern.
“Look, I don’t know what you did and it’s driving me crazy,” he said, taking another step forward. “Just tell me!” Some others echoed his calls. Trying to back up, she felt herself press against a tree. They had cornered her and were shouting at her to tell them.
“Come on!” Vern yelled over the grating chatter of the group. His anger incited her own and she wanted to push him so far away that she would never have to look at him again.
“I don’t have a power, ok? I just screamed and it didn’t do anything to you. I can’t do anything! Are you happy now?” She had shouted at the top of her lungs and now she gasped for breath.
Suddenly everything became quiet. Vern and the rest stared at her with blank faces. Their mouths hung open and they stood motionless. Mira looked at them, and she tried to comprehend the state of their minds. Combinations of shock, disbelief, awe, confusion, wonder, and contempt crept over their faces.
Becoming annoyed with the blank stares, Mira took one more look at Vern as she motioned to leave. The edges of his lips curled upward, his mouth opened, and laughter spurted out. Soon all of the students were laughing together.
“Pff, can’t do anything! That’s even worse than Mucky Chucky, and the only thing he can do is sweat oil!” Vern gawked, doubling over.
“Hey!” said a deep voice within the crowd, but it could barely be heard over the laughter. Mira couldn’t tolerate any more, and so she elbowed her way through the crowd, tired of being the source of everyone’s amusement. Walking down the path, she could tell that no one followed her. Hazarding a quick glance back, she noticed the students had formed something of a circle, and it pained her to imagine what they might be saying.
The emotional toll of her revelation weighed on her more with every step she took. By the time she got home, her feelings of worthlessness and loneliness became the air she breathed and the blood pumping through her heart. Walking became difficult, and she wanted to collapse. Once she got home, she quietly snuck up to her room without drawing the attention of her mother, feeling too sad for tears.
***
Mira didn’t leave her room again that day. Her parents became concerned when the next morning rolled around and she didn’t come down. Kevin seemed ready to let her work it out on her own, but Jeana gave him a look that clearly told him Mira wouldn’t be the only one with a problem if he didn’t go up there and do something.
A moment later, he rapped his fist against the wooden door, hesitantly pushing it open after a muffled voice told him to enter. He found her sitting on her windowsill with her knees held tight to her chest. She still had her pajamas on, and she stared blankly at the world outside. Thinking about what kind of intense wrestling she did in her mind to come to terms with being different, he leaned against the other side of the large window.
“What’s going on? Why aren’t you getting ready to go?”
He spoke softly, afraid the slightest hint of criticism would make her break down.
“I’m not going to school,” she said. Some of her brown hair drifted in front of her almond eyes, but she seemed too forlorn to do anything about it.
“Why not? What’s the problem?”
“I can’t do it. I have to quit. I hate being there. The other students hate me. The teacher doesn’t know what he’s talking about. It’s just so unfair and so awful to be a fool at everything no matter what.”
Kevin si
ghed and held his hand to his daughter’s. She squeezed it.
“You were right, Dad. You were right before when you said I’d be making a mistake if I wanted to see the truth. This is worse. It’s so much worse. How could I have wanted something so terrible so badly? Please, make the walls again. I never want to leave. It’s just unbearable.”
She brushed away the world outside her window. Looking at her, Kevin remembered the curious and adventurous girl she used to be. That image of her seemed so distant in this moment.
“Believe me, Mira, you were the one who was right. Living in a fantasy land isn’t living. We all have to live with what’s out there, and there’s no way we can hide from it. Sure, I could make the walls again, but you’d still have to live with what you’ve seen and what you know. It wouldn’t change anything, least of all your special place in the world.”
“So what am I supposed to do, go back out there so people can laugh at me and terrorize me? Why bother when I’ll never do anything more than take up the last space on a list of class rank?”
“I’d say you have two options,” Kevin said, speaking more firmly. “You can either give up, hide in your room, and let yourself become exactly what you’re afraid of, or you can fight as hard as you can and find out exactly who you are and what you’re made of.”
“But I did! I tried as hard as I could,” Mira scowled. “And I ended up in the dirt. I never had a chance.”
“Okay. Okay. I hear you, but I’m going to teach you something right now. Trying as hard as you can doesn’t mean just pushing your muscles until they give out. Every problem, every situation, and everyone has an answer. If you’re smart enough and aware enough then you can figure out what the solution is.
“You see, just because you don’t have a power doesn’t mean there isn’t something you can do to give yourself an advantage. Take me, for instance. You might think because I can influence water molecules that I’d be a great swimmer, but I sink like a rock and your mother beats me every time. That has nothing to do with her power. Now, let’s see if we can apply this to your situation. How would you describe your classmates?”
Mira thought about this question for a moment.
“I’d say they are lazy, thoughtless, and not really all that smart.”
“Ok, so how do you beat someone who doesn’t work hard, doesn’t focus, and doesn’t think?”
Mira, finding the answer plainly obvious, had to chuckle at his point, but it still seemed impossible to overcome. “But I did think, and I did try. And it didn’t work out at all!”
“I don’t think you’re using all of the tools available to you. I’m sure you could put together something to help you out. You said before even the teacher doesn’t know what he’s talking about. What is there that you know that could be used to help?”
It did not take Mira long to realize what she knew that could help her. It was what she spent her free time thinking about and what she sunk all of her creative energy into. A light bulb clicked on in her mind, grew hot, and exploded, leaving little pieces of excitement and possibility strewn about.
“Ok, I’ll give it another shot. Maybe this time it’ll be different. But do you think I can have today to get everything together?” she asked.
“That sounds fair to me,” Kevin agreed, getting up and moving toward the door. Before he could pull it closed, Mira stopped him.
“Thank you, Dad. That helped.”
“I’ll try not to let it go to my head,” he said with a warm smile.
***
Mira spent most of the day in the basement organizing her materials and drafting plans. She looked at the things she had already built, a drill, little robotic toys that could scuttle about, and flashlights. None of them seemed powerful enough or particularly well suited to her needs. Still, she started developing ideas.
Heading to the schoolhouse early the next morning, she spent some time repairing the wobble and the crack in her desk. She had just about finished when the other students began to show up. Some of her tools and sawdust cluttered the nearby area, but the desk looked like the best one in the house.
“Well, look who decided to show up. It’s a good thing too. We could use a good laugh,” Will said as he came in behind a few others.
“I suggest that you stop,” Mira said with a severe tone.
“Why?” he laughed. “Are you going to use your imaginary power on me? Better make it a cool one this time.”
“No,” she said, “but I promise you’ll regret it.”
“What? What are you going to do?” he said, blowing unnaturally powerful gusts that made her flinch. Fortst arrived soon enough, and Will turned around, thinking he’d gotten the last laugh. But during lunchtime, while the students were making trips to the outpost or eating out in the grass, Mira quickly made a few alterations to his desk.
From her own desk, she watched the students file in after their lunch break ended. Will rushed in and threw himself into his seat only to have it collapse underneath him. He emitted a girlish whelp and the other students burst into laughter. He got up and started looking around, puzzled.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Mira said, opening her hand and revealing a few nails, “but I needed to borrow these.” The others around them laughed at Will even harder, knowing that the weakest among them had done it. Will grew red-faced and took a deep breath, preparing to generate a great gust, but he stifled it when he realized so many other students sat in front of his target. He had to sit on the floor until they went out for field lessons.
Mira answered every question she could that day. She gave long, detailed replies explaining the trajectory of projectiles and the forces involved in physics of throwing. She went on and on with examples, even going into tangents, only deciding to stop when the bugs began to bother her. She didn’t care what anyone thought, sure no one else could really understand what she said anyway, even though she spoke as plainly as possible.
“All movement is caused by a force pushing an object over a distance. And all forces work in pairs. So while your arm pushes against the stone you are throwing, the stone pushes against your arm too. If you could measure the speed of your arm using the same amount of force, once with the stone and once without, you could identify the force of that stone by how much slower your arm moves. Actually, Dot could probably do that pretty easily.” But she stopped suddenly, again distracted by some pestering mosquitoes.
It only took a few times for her to realize that the bugs only bothered her when she started speaking. She noticed ants on her shoes too, which she tried to brush away. Some students giggled, and she immediately knew this was not an accident. She started watching the other students, especially while she spoke. By the end of the day she had a good idea as to the source of the problem.
After school let out, Mira jogged to catch up to one boy who walked down the forest trail.
“Hey, you’re Jeremy, right? What do you do with insects?”
Jeremy didn’t turn back to look at her. Mira followed close behind, looking at the back of his greasy, dark hair.
“Whatever I want. Move things around, make them fight, encourage people to shut up. That kind of thing,” he said. He took another step, tripped, and suddenly fell flat on the ground. He quickly wiped the dirt from his face and looked back at his feet. His foot tripped over a wire that extended across the trail.
“Be careful not to squish any of your friends,” she said, stepping over her wire.
She walked away confidently and quickly. She turned the corner at the forest’s edge and began to work her way home. Another student hobbled along the road, and Mira motioned to pass her. She had not yet spoken to this girl, whose name was Mary, but she noticed a scrape on her knee with a little bit of blood. It made her look up at Mary’s face.
“I’m actually still not sure exactly what my gift is,” she said. “But I could tell you are different from the moment I first saw you. Dot’s parents knew what she could do before they could even name her, but
I still don’t know. There’s something about you—”
“That’s nice,” Mira interrupted. She left the girl behind and pushed further on up the road, choosing to focus her thoughts on other peers who needed to be taught a lesson.
***
Mira arrived at school the next day to find that her desk had been switched with another. Setting a pencil on the desk, she watched it roll to the side and fall on the floor. She glanced at the legs of the other desks and spotted the new light-brown board supporting the weight of Aoi. It didn’t make sense to her for someone to steal something when it would be so obvious.
The students waited patiently for Fortst to arrive, but they became nervous when he showed up with a suspiciously nasty smirk. His pants and shoes were dirty and had red splotches all over them.
“Today, we’re going to have a field training day. Just wait and see what I have in store for you. It’s gonna be a blast!”
Coming out from behind his lectern, he waved his arm and beckoned for the students to follow. Striding so quickly that even his coattails had trouble following, he led them out into the forest.
“You see, we’ve got to simulate some intensity, some stress. The most important thing I can teach you is how to keep your head on your shoulders when things get a little crazy. Better be careful and better be quick or you’re gonna end up a big mess.”
Climbing over fallen trees and avoiding spider webs, they drew deeper into the forest. Less light filtered down through the colorful leaves and small animals scurried in the undergrowth. The landscape dipped suddenly, and Mira wondered if they were close to Cloud Cottage.
“Are we there yet?” Dennis droned.
“You’re in for a long day if you’re already tired,” Fortst retorted. A cool breeze shot through the trees, blowing down a few leaves. The students began to make out unnatural formations amongst the trees in the distance.
“What did you make?” Vern asked, trying to match Fortst’s pace.
