by Lisa White
“I don’t understand. What do you mean there is nothing you can do about it?” Grace spoke slowly as if she were speaking a new language for the first time. “Why? Why can’t you love me?”
“I told you. I’m not the Chosen One.” Ben’s chest tightened even more as if all the air had been sucked out of the clearing. He could not even smell the lilacs now.
“What are you talking about? What’s a Chosen One?” It was obvious that Grace’s mood was swinging in the wrong direction again and that she didn’t care. She seemed tired of not understanding.
Ben tried to take a deep breath but he couldn’t find any air. “It’s a who.”
“What?”
“The Chosen One. He’s a who not a what. The Chosen One is who the Council has picked to marry you … to have children with so you can continue the Powers. It’s who you’re supposed to be with and it’s not me.”
Grace paled and clutched her stomach with both arms. “Marry? Who … who is it?”
Ben looked away, trying to catch his breath. All the air was finally gone and his chest was paralyzed with pain. Where did all the air go?
“Ben? I said who is it?” Grace’s voice escalated but her arms remained clenched around her waist.
“Tom!” Ben spurted out with what felt like his last breath, his eyes flipping back and boring into Grace in that same instance. “Your Chosen One is Tom!” he yelled.
Grace slumped, almost doubling over. She looked around the clearing but her eyes did not focus. For a moment, Ben thought she was going to pass out, but then her glassy eyes bored into him. “But what if I … ? I mean, Tom’s nice and all … but I … I don’t want Tom. I want you! I love you!”
Ben shook his head. “It doesn’t matter what you want. It doesn’t matter what I want. And love has nothing to do with any of this. You’re the last of your family … of the Family. If you and Tom don’t … get together, then that’s it. No more Powers, no more Council, no more anything.”
Grace bent over more, still clutching her stomach. Her breaths were rapid and erratic. “All a lie,” she panted. “Whole life a lie.” Her breath was shallow now. “A stupid waste of a lie. Just part of some stupid secret arranged marriage for some stupid secret world I don’t care anything about.” She straightened up and started to stumble around the clearing. “Take me back. I want to go back home. I need to get out of here!” Grace frantically looked around for a way out of the clearing but all she could see were the blasted lilacs blurring in a circle.
Ben was still shaking his head. “Grace, you know I can’t do that. The Anti-Powers, they’ll — ”
“Okay! Okay! Then just take me to Dave’s. And then … and then you just leave me alone!”
In an instant, Ben and Grace were standing on Dave’s front porch. Grace burst through the cabin’s screen door, purposefully smashing it back into Ben’s face. She marched straight back to the guest room and slammed the bedroom door without a word to her hosts who were seated on one of the overstuffed couches in the living room.
“You told her about Tom,” said Dave. It was a statement, not a question.
“I had to.” Ben stood at the fireplace with his back to his hosts, looking out the window.
“You did the right thing,” Petra nodded her head.
“I know,” Ben sighed. He continued to stare out the window. Dark clouds hovered outside as if tied to Grace’s mood. “Looks like rain.”
“Yeah, Petra saw it earlier. We’ve already rescheduled the ballgame to tomorrow.”
“Good,” Ben sighed. “Maybe she won’t be mad at me by then.”
Dave shook his head. “I wouldn’t count on that, son.”
Chapter Nineteen: The Ball Game
Cooper watched a rarely seen Mercedes pull up to the gas pump and instantly knew its occupants were not locals. The driver and passenger exited the silver car but neither went over to the pump for gas. Instead, they both crossed the gravel parking lot and headed directly toward the store. They walked in synchronized strides that reminded Cooper of a German soldier’s goosestep, not so much in the way they marched, but more so in the smooth evenness of their step. The older, more brutish driver held the store’s front door open for the passenger who was leaner but no less muscular in form.
“Coop, my man!” The passenger’s fake smile reminded Cooper of a used car salesman who had not yet made this month’s sales quota.
“Yeah? Can I hep ya?” Cooper’s old memory failed him every now and then so he had learned to feign recognition with his customers until it was sufficiently jogged by subsequent conversation.
“Well, sir, we certainly hope so,” the brutish driver grinned.
There was something about the driver’s emerald eyes that made Cooper uneasy. He stood behind the checkout counter and instinctively placed his hand on the cash register.
“We’re not here to rob you, old man,” the driver laughed.
“Well, it don’t look like yer here fer gas,” Cooper half-grinned, pointing to the gas pump outside.
“No. No, you’re right about that. You see, we need some directions,” the passenger said as he leaned over the counter.
Cooper’s uneasiness had moved into the outright uncomfortable range and his hands started shaking behind his back. “Whar … whar ya’ goin’?”
The passenger grinned and stared deep into Cooper’s eyes. “To the Misfit community,” he said matter-of-factly.
Cooper’s heart pounded and his eyes instinctively darted to the front door.
“Andrew, he thinks he can make a run for it. Isn’t that funny?” the passenger laughed.
Andrew moved to stand in the middle of the doorway. He crossed his arms over his chest, his broad shoulders touching each side of the doorframe. “Yeah. Funny.”
“Now, Cooper,” the passenger continued, his eyes boring into the old man, “I know you know what I’m talking about and, as long as you cooperate, we’ll all get along just fine. So, why don’t you give me those directions? Now.”
As those green eyes bored into him, Cooper began to feel strangely relaxed. His slumping back leaned against the wall behind him and his head wobbled on his neck like a golf ball balancing on a toothpick. “Yer an Anti-Power,” he mumbled. “What’re ya … what’re ya doing to me?”
“Gregory, your power is too much for that old man,” Andrew yelled to the passenger. “You’re going to make him pass out! Get those directions first!”
“Oh calm down, he’s fine,” Gregory yelled back over his shoulder, his eyes never leaving Cooper’s.
Even in his relaxed state, Cooper tried very hard not to think of the directional landmarks to the Misfit community. He did not know if either of these boys could read minds, but he did not want to take any chances.
“Old man, I’m waiting,” Gregory’s voice deepened. “And I don’t have time to wait.” Without taking his eyes off Cooper, Gregory’s right arm extended straight out to the side and then swung around to stop right in front of Cooper’s face. In the instant of that movement, a glass display case sitting on the corner of the counter shattered and a large, bone-handled hunting knife flew out of the rack. The levitating knife followed the motion of Gregory’s arm until it stopped right at the base of Cooper’s throat. The knife edged a little too close and nicked the old man’s protruding Adam’s apple. Blood slowly seeped from the wound and dripped down Cooper’s scrawny neck. “Well?” Gregory raised his eyebrows.
“I … I don’t know what yer talking ‘bout,” Cooper stammered. Beads of sweat started to form on his upper lip and forehead.
“Andrew,” Gregory calmly called to his brother, his eyes still intent on Cooper’s.
Andrew left the doorway and walked behind the counter. He grabbed Cooper’s thin arms from behind his back and pulled them around to the counter, slapping the old man’s palms down flat on the smooth surface in front of him.
“Maybe this will jog your memory,” Gregory smiled. He raised his hand up and sliced it through the air d
irectly in front of Cooper’s face. With that movement, the levitating knife suddenly pushed off Cooper’s throat and slammed down across his right hand, swiftly and simultaneously chopping off four fingers.
“Aaww!” Cooper screamed, bile rising into his throat from the pain.
This process slowly continued for the next few hours and, for the first time in his long, quiet life, Cooper gave directions to the Misfit Community, one landmark at a time. One landmark for each body part lost until the old man had no more body parts to lose.
• • •
Grace slept for fifteen hours that night and still did not want to get out of bed the next day. She was embarrassed to have silently stormed through the house in front of her hosts the night before but her embarrassment was outweighed by the anger she still felt toward Ben. All the secrets he had kept from her, all the lies he had told her, and he had still let her try to kiss him in the middle of that stupid clearing. That stupid, lilac-filled clearing where he let her lips touch him, where he let her arms wrap around him, where he let her love him.
Again.
Grace pulled the covers over her head and decided she was never going to leave that bed.
“Knock, knock.” Petra’s singsong voice sailed through the air as she cracked the door and peeked her head through. “Your Majesty? Are you up?”
Grace hesitated, as if her silence would make her invisible. But then she remembered Petra’s sporadic visions of the future and Dave’s occasional views of the past and realized that she could not make herself invisible. Not here. Not anywhere. Ever again.
“Yes, Petra, I’m up,” Grace said, slowly sitting up in the bed.
“Did you sleep well?” Petra asked as she reached over the bed to open the only window’s curtains.
“Where’s Ben?” asked Grace, ignoring Petra’s stupid question. Of course, she didn’t sleep well.
“He and Dave have already headed to the ball field. You’ve slept almost until game time!”
“Couldn’t I just skip the game? No offense but I’m not really in the mood for … for all that Powers stuff today.”
Petra stood a little straighter at the end of the bed. “Miss Grace, I understand if you feel a little overwhelmed right now. Ben’s mother felt the same way the first time she visited us. But, honestly dear, Ben instructed me to bring you to the ball game and … well … he is your Guardian and all … and … well … I kind of have to do what he says right now. Even if you are who you are.” Petra tried to smile when she spoke as if that would make the words easier for Grace to swallow.
“You know I’m getting a little tired of all these rules,” Grace sighed, more to herself than to Petra, as she got out of bed.
Petra was already heading out the door when she stopped and turned around. Her eyes were stern when she said, “Yes, dear. But all these rules are keeping you alive.” Petra then softly closed the door behind her and left Grace alone with her thoughts.
Grace’s face developed a permanent scowl as she got dressed and she could not find any incentive for it to go away that day. Not in breakfast, not in Petra’s lyrical voice, not even in the scenic walk she and Petra took to the ball field after breakfast.
“Sun’s out.” Petra interrupted Grace’s foul mood. “Lofty will be playing his best today. Should be a fun game to watch.”
“Lofty? Oh, yeah. That flying guy,” Grace mumbled. Yesterday’s rain had erased the dust from the road so Grace cleanly shuffled her feet a little when she walked. She was in no hurry to see the game. Or Ben.
“You know he can’t help what he is, Your Highness.”
“What?” Grace wished Petra’s visions were working. Her hostess could have seen that she was in no mood to talk right now.
“Ben. He did not choose to be your Guardian any more than Tom chose to be the Chosen One.”
“He’s my best friend. He should have told me about Tom.”
“Yes, he’s your best friend and he would have told you if he could. But he has to live by the Council’s code, remember? If telling a human about the Powers could be punishable by death, can you imagine what’s going to happen now that he’s told you about Tom? About who you really are?” Petra paused and gathered her thoughts before she calmly continued. “Please don’t think me disrespectful, Your Highness, but you don’t seem to appreciate how much trouble he’s in with the Council for telling you everything he has. Between the Council and the Anti-Powers, that poor guy really is getting it from all sides.”
Grace had no response. Her fingers started tingling again so she just shoved her hands in her pockets.
But now, luckily, Petra had seen just enough into the future to know that she should not interrupt Grace’s thoughts for the remainder of their walk.
The ball field turned out to be a perfectly maintained, half-size football field. It was located in a large clearing that sat about a mile from the main road at the end of a long, winding dirt path. Trees surrounded the clearing and sitting at one end of the field were two sets of makeshift bleachers, again made from the forest’s discarded branches. The bleachers were crowded with elderly Misfits, unable or unwilling to play in today’s big game, so Ben’s dark wavy hair stood out from the top row like a spot on an albino Dalmatian. He sat next to Vector, who waved furiously at Grace and Petra.
“Miss Grace! Petra!” the old man called. “Over here.” He motioned for them with a wave of his feeble arm.
With Vector’s yell, every white-haired Misfit on the bleachers turned to look at Grace and, with all eyes on her, she had no choice but to duck her head and join Vector where he sat. Right next to Ben.
“Hello, Your Highness! Welcome to your first Powers game,” Vector excitedly said, struggling to scoot over so Grace could sit next to Ben.
Instead, Grace purposefully crossed over in front of Ben to sit on the other side of Vector. Petra followed and took her seat on the other side of Grace.
“I thought you weren’t coming to the game?” Petra leaned over to ask Vector.
“I wasn’t. I was going to work Marshall’s shift so he could play for the Mentals but he hasn’t returned from meeting the Triplets yet. It’s too nice of a day to be inside and, since Numbers is doing inventory, he offered to watch the computers for me so I could still come to the game.”
Ben’s ears perked up. “Did Marshall get the report on that stuff going on outside the fourth quadrant?”
“I assume that’s what he’s doing now. You know, he’s kind of sweet on that Triplet Carrie so he is probably out there trying to flirt with her as we speak. With her blonde ringlets and rosy complexion, he may even forget to come back and bring me the report altogether!” laughed Vector.
Ben shot a glance at Grace who seemed oblivious to the conversation.
“There’s Dave,” Petra said to Grace, pointing to the large man standing in the end zone. “Dave’s a natural referee with his powers. Kind of like our own special brand of instant replay when they’re working right.” Petra proudly beamed.
Grace just nodded at Petra. She really was not in the mood for this.
“Play ball!” Dave shouted and the crowd clapped the teams onto the field. All but two of the players spread out and faced each other in two parallel lines that stretched from one end zone to the other.
“The Mentals are batting first,” Vector proudly waved to the team on the left as if Grace knew what was going on. “That’s my team.”
Grace followed Vector’s point and watched the first player saunter up to the goal post. He was swinging a large bat but held it more like a tennis racquet than a baseball bat. “Wait. Is this football or baseball or tennis?” she asked no one in particular.
“It’s a combination of all those sports with a little basketball and soccer thrown in as well,” Petra said. “With Powers, none of those sports are really challenging by themselves, so a while back the Powers kind of combined them all into one.”
Grace still looked confused. Sports had never been her strong suit so everyth
ing about this game was over her head.
“It’s easy,” Petra continued. “All you need to remember is that the object of the game is to move the ball up and down the field five times before getting it into the goal on the far side of the field over there.” Petra pointed to a basketball goal that stood forty feet high in the opposite end zone. “There are outs just like in baseball, but you can only get them if someone on the opposite team catches the ball right after the batter bats. After that, you can pretty much do what you want with the ball and the rest of the game is more like soccer or football. The players just try to move the ball up and down the field the fastest way they possibly can. The players can use any powers they have as long as no one gets injured. If a player gets injured, the other team automatically gets two points. We don’t want anyone getting too zealous with their powers and forget we’re all friends here.”
The Physicals team pitcher stood in the opposite end zone under the basketball goal and was tossing a ball that looked to be a little larger than a baseball in size but was neon orange in color. Had it not been so brightly colored, Grace doubted she could have seen it so far away. At the sound of Dave’s whistle, the pitcher wound up and threw the ball so fast, Grace didn’t even see it. “Where’d the ball go?” she asked no one in particular.
“There,” Petra pointed to the ball that had stopped in mid-air and now hung suspended over the middle of the closest end zone and directly in front of the batter who was grinning at the pitcher with a sportsman’s taunt. The batter swung his bat at the levitating ball, causing it to fly out to the field beyond.
Seeing the speed with which the Physicals players were gunning for the ball, Grace stated to no one in particular, “He’s out.”
“Not so fast, Your Highness,” Vector grinned.
Just before the ball landed in the opposing team’s hands, it weaved, mid-air, and started flying in another direction. Grace’s eyes flew open at yet another violation of the laws of physics before she glanced down at the batter who had dropped the bat and was now charging down the field and apparently yelling at the ball.
