by Sybil Nelson
Staring up at the ceiling he said, “The summer I turned thirteen, I woke up one morning and I had muscles. Just like that. I knew that wasn’t normal, so I begged Dad to buy me that weight bench, wore baggy clothes for a month, and pretended to work out every day.”
I remembered that. He also grew six inches taller that summer. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but now it all made sense.
“Is that when the visions started?” I dusted off the bench and took a seat.
Josh nodded. “Mom got suspicious at first. She would stare at me constantly like I was some sort of science experiment. So I had to work on suppressing the visions. One day I figured out that mom had some sort of mental powers of her own. She was staring at me, as usual, and then I suddenly felt her in my head. I quickly came up with a way to block her. After that, the visions went away almost completely for two years. I thought I was cured.”
“Josh, your abilities are not a disease.”
“I just want to be normal. I don’t want my mother running off saving the world. I don’t want my sister setting things on fire and getting kidnapped by bad guys, and I don’t want visions of death invading my mind.”
I hated that Josh thought something was wrong with Mom and me. But I did want to make him feel better. “Well, maybe you are normal. Maybe this is all a coincidence and you don’t have powers. Maybe your vision was wrong.”
Josh closed his eyes and shook his head. “Everything I see comes true.” He sighed. “You were sick, too sick to defend yourself. You get shot. In the chest.” He was so sure and so convinced, I felt his vision was a certainty. But it just couldn’t be true. There had to be some mistake.
“Maybe it’s just a dream, you know. Dreams don’t really mean anything. I mean, just last night I dreamt that Charlie turned into a tap-dancing monkey and Chester sold him to the Russian circus.”
He opened his eyes and glared at me. “It’s not a dream. It’s a vision,” he said, not finding the humor in my possible explanation. “Don’t you think I wish it wasn’t true? I’ve tried to think of every possible logical scenario that doesn’t end with your death. Nothing changes. All of my visions have come true. All of them.”
“I think you should tell Mom. She can help you decode the vision or something. I bet she can give you some brain exercises or whatever it is psychic people need to do to strengthen their psychicness. If that’s a word.” I stood up and paced his room. “There’s probably so much you can do with your powers. I bet you have no idea what you’re capable of.”
Josh sat up and crossed his arms. He looked as stubborn as Charlie when Dad tells him he has to finish his broccoli before leaving the table. Chester figured out how to beat the great broccoli battle long ago by shoveling the nasty vegetable into his drink cup. In any case, telling Mom was not an option in Josh’s mind. I still couldn’t believe she didn’t already know. I mean, she knew about my powers almost immediately and even helped me cope with them by sending me the calm feeling.
“So, how have you been able to keep Mom from finding out about you? What’s your trick?”
“Christina Aguilera.”
What was he talking about? He must not have heard the question.
“No, I said—”
“I know what you said. Christina Aguilera keeps her out of my head. When I feel her entering my mind, I start singing a Christina Aguilera song. She immediately retreats. I don’t even think she realizes she does it. She just can’t stand pop music. It’s like nails on a chalkboard to her.”
“Are you serious?” I said, staring at him in disbelief.
“Try it. Works every time.”
I’d definitely be trying it. There were lots of thoughts that I’d like to keep private. But my abilities weren’t one of them. I kinda needed Mom to help me understand what was going on with my body. And though he didn’t realize it yet, so did Josh.
“You really need to talk to Mom. It’s not that bad. She can help you.”
“Not gonna happen. I don’t need help,” he said with Charlie-like stubbornness.
“Josh, ignoring your powers won’t make them go away.”
I sat next to him on his bed and placed my arm on his shoulder. The way he jerked away from me kind of hurt my feelings. He really did think Mom and I were freaks. That’s why he didn’t want to accept his gift. If he did, it would mean he was just like us.
Chapter 22: Ice Cream Challenge
“Get up; let’s go,” my mother said at the butt-crack of dawn on Friday morning, a full three hours before I had to be in school. I hadn’t woken up that early since I was in gymnastics.
“Go where?”
“It’s time to start training.”
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” I said, struggling to open my eyes. But when I looked at her, I knew she was seriously serious. She wore a black catsuit with the same silver belt of gadgets that I’d seen before.
She tossed me a bundle of clothes and then started pulling her hair into a tight bun. “I have to get my hair out of the way. I don’t want you accidentally setting it on fire.”
“Very funny, Mom. But that wouldn’t happen anyway. It’s Friday. Just like last month, my powers came on a Saturday and disappeared on a Thursday. I can’t set anything on fire. My powers are gone.”
My mother pretended she didn’t hear me as she walked to the other side of my room with a smirk on her face. I sat up and stretched out the matching black catsuit she’d given me. We were gonna look like a couple of redheaded ninjas. Ridiculous. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw my dresser come through the air, straight at me. I caught it just a split second before it flattened me. “What are you doing? You could’ve taken my head off!”
“Told you. You still have your powers. Now get dressed. We need to finish before the sun comes out.”
Seconds later, my father hopped into my room, a crutch in one hand and a pistol in the other. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing, honey. Everything’s fine. I was just starting Priss’ training. You really do overreact sometimes, Greg.”
My father let out a sigh of relief. He clicked on the safety to his gun and then jammed it into his boxer shorts.
“Overreact? My daughter was kidnapped less than a week ago. I think I have every right to overreact as you call it.”
“That’s why I need to train her, so it doesn’t happen again.”
“Excuse me? Happen again?” I asked. “What makes you think it’s going to happen again?”
Dad turned around and stormed off—well he kind of hopped off. Storming anywhere is nearly impossible with a broken leg.
“Just get dressed,” my mother said before going after him.
Seriously, why did they think it was going to happen again? I was starting to get paranoid. My mother thought I was going to be kidnapped again and my brother was convinced I was going to die. In any case, something bad was going to happen and I needed to be prepared.
My training took place in a clearing in the woods near where we parked our jet. I still couldn’t believe my family owned an invisible jet. Freaking awesome. What wasn’t awesome was the way my mother kicked my butt repeatedly. She had no mercy for me.
“Priss, suck it up and concentrate. You can beat me.”
“No, I can’t. You’ve had years of training. I haven’t.”
“You have to use your strengths. You may not have my training, but you’re creative, feisty, and determined. I’ve seen you playing those video games. You do whatever it takes to win. You have to have the same attitude in combat. Do whatever it takes.”
We resumed our attack positions on opposite sides of the field. She expected me to beat her, a genetically enhanced super weapon, in pitch black darkness after only learning three simple karate moves. She was insane.
She did that super fast running thing where I could barely see her. Any second she was going to kick my legs out from under me or flip me over her shoulder onto my back. It was the same thing over and over again.
I was starting to get really annoyed. I retreated into a thicket of bushes, where I got an idea.
“Mom, help! I set the bushes on fire and now I’m trapped. Mommy, get me out of here.”
“I’m coming, Prissy!” She ran through the fire to get to me, but when she was close enough, I grabbed her arm, twisted it behind her back, and then pinned her to the ground.
“Touché, Priss. Touché.”
“Does that mean I win? Can I go back to sleep now?”
“Okay, that’s enough for today. Just let me put this fire out before you burn down the town.”
I didn’t get to go back to sleep, though. Before I knew it, I was yawning in front of my locker at school.
“Tired?” Kyle asked me at the height of my yawn. I hate when people ask that. First of all, if I’m yawning of course I’m tired. Why else would I be opening my mouth like a Venus Fly Trap? Second of all, it’s impossible to interrupt a yawn to answer a question. I was just stuck there with my mouth wide open unable to respond for like five seconds, which feels like five hours when there’s a cute boy staring at your uvula. My hands were full of books so I couldn’t even cover my mouth. I looked like an idiot.
“Yeah, a little,” I said when my yawn finally ended.
“Well, I know what’ll wake you up.” Kyle sounded very mischievous. What was he up to? I remembered Tai telling me he wanted to kiss me at the River Day Dance. Was he planning on a test kiss right there in the hall? My stomach did a back flip as I stared at his lips. Oh my God, his lips were perfect. “The Ice Cream Challenge,” he added, jolting me out of my thoughts.
The Ice Cream Challenge was an ongoing feud between the seventh and eighth grades of Polk Middle. On the last Friday of every month, an eighth grade boy challenged a seventh grade boy to an all-you-can eat ice cream gorging. If the seventh grader won, he and two friends got to sit at the eighth grade tables for a week. If the eighth grader won, then the loser had to be his servant for a week. It was humiliating.
Anyway, after school on the last Friday of the month, all the kitchen staff would run off to cash their pay checks, so the entire student body secretly gathered in the cafeteria to watch the festivities. Each contestant had to stick their head under the soft serve nozzle and fill their faces with ice cream until one of them either puked or surrendered to the brain freeze.
Kyle and I had been training for his turn for weeks, blowing our allowance on cones at Willie’s Sweet Shop and racing each other to finish. I beat him every time, but unfortunately, it was an unwritten rule that girls weren’t allowed to participate in the ICC. Most girls didn’t want to compete for fear of getting ice cream in their hair. And after Lucy Mane puked on the principal’s shoes two years ago after her challenge, girls were pretty much banned from the sport.
“That’s right! Your challenge is today. How do you feel? Are you ready to kick some eighth grade butt?” I started to get excited. I knew Kyle would win. I mean, he had me for a coach. Of course, he’d win.
“Actually, I can’t do it. I have an audition in the morning and I can’t risk the extra calories.”
I rolled my eyes. “Great. Get me all excited for nothing.” I shut my locker with my shoulder and struggled to balance my two armloads of books. “So who’s taking your place?” I asked as Kyle took the books out of my hands to carry them for me.
“You.”
“Me? But … but I’m a girl.”
“I know. That’s why I had to slip Jimmy a twenty so he would even take the challenge.”
Well, time really flies when you have a date with destiny, and by the time Kyle was done with his pep talks, I truly felt like defeating Jimmy Vartanian in the Ice Cream Challenge was my destiny. It was like G.I. Joe versus Cobra, like the Autobots versus the Decepticons, or Anybody versus the Yankees. It was your classic good versus evil. The seventh grade just had to win, and it was all up to me.
“Choose your flavor,” Jimmy Vee said to me, standing before the ice cream machine moments before the gorging took place.
“Chocolate.” That was a psyche-out choice. Most people chose vanilla thinking it would be easier to get down, so Kyle and I decided we would choose chocolate in order to confuse the opponent. Yeah, now that I think about it, that made no sense, but whatever.
The entire cafeteria erupted into screams and cheers after Ashley Martin, the eighth grade president, yelled, “Go,” but all I could hear was Kyle’s voice.
“Priss has so got this,” he was saying.
“You’re crazy. She’s a girl. Any second she’s gonna give up because she doesn’t want to get fat,” the boy he was talking to replied.
“You have no idea about this girl. She’s different. No, she’s more than different. She’s incredible. She can do anything.”
Brain freeze was no longer a possibility as I felt my whole body flush at Kyle’s words. The ice cream melted as soon as it got to within an inch of my face and I ended up just drinking chocolate milk. Easy.
With the challenge under control, I let my mind wander. I started imagining Kyle and me at the River Day Dance tomorrow night. I wondered how my first kiss would happen. Would he ask if he could kiss me or would he take me by surprise, turn me around, and dip me like in one of those old Southern movies? I didn’t have too much time to wonder as, before I knew it, Kyle pulled me out from under the ice cream machine and said, “It’s over, Priss. You won!”
He hugged me tightly, not caring that I smeared chocolate ice cream all over his crisp button-down white shirt. He smelled good, really good, kind of like what I imagined all those gorgeous guys in cologne ads smelled like. And his arms felt so strong around me. When did he get so strong? I felt weak. Kind of like how I felt the other day after he’d walked me home from school. Any second I was going to set something on fire. Probably him. I had to get out of there.
“I gotta go,” I said, pushing away from him.
“But why? I thought we could go celebrate your victory. I bought a new video game. You could come over—”
“No way. Not tonight. I gotta go.”
“What about the dance tomorrow?” he called after me. I was already halfway out of the door.
“I’ll meet you there,” I yelled behind me.
I ran out into the hallway, not sure which way to go. I just knew I had to get outta there before sparks flew out of my hands or two tons of chocolate spewed out of my mouth.
I felt weak and hot and nauseated and just plain icky. By the time I reached the parking lot of Polk Middle School, I was so lightheaded I thought I would faint. I tried to concentrate on my meditation techniques, but I couldn’t focus. When I closed my eyes, all I saw was Kyle’s face. I could feel his arms around me, and I thought I would explode.
Just when I couldn’t take it anymore and I thought I would send the whole parking lot up in flames, I felt the refreshingly cool foam of a fire extinguisher.
“Josh? What are you doing here?” I asked, shaking the foam off my hands.
“I knew you were in trouble.”
“What? How?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I just knew.”
“What do you mean you just knew?”
“I told you, I don’t know. Stop asking questions and get in the car before somebody wonders why I’m shooting you with a fire extinguisher.”
He threw a towel at me and then got into his truck. “And don’t puke any chocolate ice cream on my seats or I’ll kill you.”
I wanted to ask him how he knew about the chocolate ice cream but I knew it had to be the same way he knew I needed help. He must have discovered some new aspects of his powers. I decided not to press him about it. Learning about his powers obviously made him really cranky. So, instead, once I got into his truck, I leaned over, gave him a big hug, and said, “Thanks, Josh.”
Chapter 23: Mother-Daughter Day
“Priss, get dressed,” my mother said early, I mean really early, Saturday morning.
“Oh, this is getting so old so fast,” I said, slap
ping the pillow over my face.
“I’m taking you out. I think it’s time we had a mother-daughter day.”
“What’s that?”
My mother shrugged. “Someone named Oprah said it was a good idea so I thought I’d give it a try.”
Hmph. Maybe my mother was going to take a stab at being normal. Maybe we’d spend the day at the mall shopping or doing whatever it was mothers and daughters were supposed to do together. I should’ve known that wasn’t going to happen when my mother put on her silver utility belt over her jeans.
