Jaden Baker

by Courtney Kirchoff

  A reaction. Instinct. Yes, he had flicked it away, just like that. The gun flew as if swatted with his hand. On the third try, the gun pulled out of William’s grip, cutting a finger, and came to him.

  Back at the Kauffmans, when he tried flipping the book in his bedroom, he wanted to control the ability to control it, not to break free and save himself. There was no urgency.

  When people were in danger, they reacted instinctively, not thinking about it. It was fight or flight. That was movement, it was living. Maybe PK was like everything else. He never thought about taking a breath or opening his mouth, walking or running. Movement was simple.

  Jaden eyed the key again. It was still. All he had to do was flick it off the hook, pick it up in his hand, and unlock the cuffs.

  When I want to pick something up, Jaden thought, I reach out and touch it. Psychokinesis isn’t the reaching, it’s the moving. In order to move something I have to feel it first to make contact.

  Concentrate on the key. It was small, an inch and a half long. He stared at it until the image burned his retinas. Shutting his eyes, he imagined what the key looked like and how it felt. Hanging from the ceiling for hours, it was probably cold. It was solid, so it would feel a little heavy in his palm. Jaden imagined the key from different angles as it hung on the hook, seeing it from above, from all sides, from the hook’s perspective.

  A strange feeling enveloped him; he focused on it. His breathing slowed. He could not hear his heart. Goosebumps tingled over his arms and legs, and the air was suddenly cold. The key. Small and heavy. The silver key hung on a hook fixed to the ceiling. Though his eyes were closed, he saw it, just as it was, and he knew it was not his imagination. He was hyperaware. He felt it there like the padded floor below him, like he touched the key with his fingers, only it felt more real.

  He saw it shaking in his mental grip, trying to slide off the hook. He heard the soft clink, and he squinted his eyes to see it. The key rattled.

  Jaden held his breath. The key shook but did not come off the hook. He closed his eyes again and willed it to come off, but it vibrated there.

  So flick it away.

  He stared at it and remained focused. He was close. Jaden squint his left eye in concentration. Behind his back, his right thumb met the tip of his pointer finger. This had to work. Staring at the vibrating key, Jaden flicked his fingers.

  As if recorded on a high speed camera and played back at a normal frame rate, the key flew from the hook and fell to the ground, where it bounced twice before landing, a silent drop on the soft floor.

  “Ha,” Jaden said under his breath, glad his observers could not see his triumphant face. He pitched himself on his knees, hobbled to the key, grabbed it in his left hand then transferred it to his right. He groped for the key hole, and when he found it, fumbled before the key slid inside. With a satisfactory click, his left hand was free. His cramped arms and shoulders thanked him as they came around to his side and front. Jaden unlocked the right cuff.

  Before turning, Jaden molded his face into a grimace, hiding his true emotion. He stood and held the handcuffs and key in his hand. He’d done it.

  Jaden spun and faced the mirror then underhand tossed the cuffs at it.

  “Let me out. I have to pee.”

  seven

  Hiding emotions was something of a trend. After Jaden retrieved the key, Dalton’s face was aglow, though it was obvious he downplayed his pleasure. Jaden, however, did a fine job keeping his face free of feeling. Dalton needed to believe this was a non-issue for Jaden, just another day in his miserable life. And though Jaden concealed his true feelings, he was exceedingly proud of himself. The accomplishment took him closer to his ultimate goal of freedom.

  Both saw potential. Dalton would, most likely, never disclose his plans. Whatever Dalton’s schemes, Jaden knew it was time to start planning his own future. Once he amassed enough power and skill, he could blow the doors and walk out, with nothing and no one to stop him. Until then, Dalton could suspect nothing.

  Jaden pondered his new plan while eating lunch. It would not be easy. For one thing, he’d have to slow his progress. If Dalton thought PK was simple, Jaden needed to prove it wasn’t.

  Escape was a long term goal. The facility was heavily guarded and protected. Learning the facility’s operations, from the staff to the physical layout, would take time. In the interim, Jaden would build his skill at his own pace, while pretending he struggled. It was the only way to fool Dalton. Resigning himself here for the long term was disheartening. But for those receiving it, patience is a deadly virtue.

  Part one of his plan involved faking his strength. Part two was pretending to give in to Dalton’s commands, thereby relinquishing control. Part two required delicacy. Jaden needed the transfer of power to seem believable. He could not suddenly obey Dalton’s orders. He needed to resist. It was imperative that Dalton believe he had broken Jaden—a thought that induced nausea. Past experience taught him that pain would be involved. For Dalton to believe Jaden had been conquered, and thus feel confident about his methods, Jaden had to endure a certain amount of abuse. There was no getting around it.

  Building up a pain tolerance and developing patience was the most difficult element of his plan. But the idea of freedom would strengthen his resolve and carry him through misery.

  It was settled then. Jaden would be as ornery as possible. He would find whatever irked Dalton and exaggerate it ten fold. Since Dalton hated foul language, Jaden would get creative with his words. Dalton’s other annoyances were sure to surface in due time.

  An opportunity to exercise both rules came the following day. Jaden ate a hearty breakfast then followed Casey into test room one. Dalton sat across the manacled table and squeezed a ball in his hands. Jaden was instructed to sit down, and did so.

  Dalton nodded at the manacles on the table, Jaden snapped his hands at his sides.

  “We have to,” Dalton said.

  “Why?” Jaden asked.

  “Otherwise you’ll remove the sensors.”

  Ah, today they were measuring brainwaves again. The next move was on him. He could either a) resist and have someone force him into the restraints, b) put his hands in willingly or c) promise he wouldn’t remove the sensors if he could have his hands free. The last option was the most appealing, but was it believable? And if he did get his way, would he remove the sensors or keep his promise?

  His rules were thus: One, resist when beneficial to the cause. Two, dignity before humiliation. Three, don’t show true emotions. So which option to take? Resisting was helpful to his cause. Going along willingly seemed the least believable, and was thus out of the running. Option C held the most appeal. This was only the third test they’d done on him. Eventually he would willingly participate, he was sure of that, but going along with it after such a short time sent the wrong message. If Dalton was to believe he had conquered Jaden, Jaden had to be hard to master…

  “I promise I won’t take them off,” Jaden said. “My wrists hurt,” he added, appealing to Dalton’s medical bias.

  Dalton chewed his bottom lip and stared into Jaden’s eyes. Jaden met his gaze. He noticed Dalton’s tie was blue. It matched his electric eyes.

  “Okay,” Dalton said. “If you give me your word.”

  Jaden nodded. “I give you my word,” he said, folding his hands on his lap.

  William came in, and Jaden kept his head still as the sensors were attached to his skull. When William left, Dalton smirked and placed the ball he’d been squeezing in his hand, on the far side of the table.

  “Yesterday you took the key off the hook. Today you need to apply the same principle to this ball. I want you to roll it across the table and stop it from falling. Unlike yesterday, nothing depends on getting the ball across. The point is just to learn, to strengthen your mind. Do you understand?”

  That wasn’t complicated. Roll the ball across the table. What was hard to understand? But he didn’t argue, he didn’t make fun. If Dalton though
t Jaden was dense, maybe it was best to play along.

  “Yes,” Jaden said. “I’ll try.”

  Moving the key had seemed a long procedure. As far as Dalton knew, Jaden had spent hours, not minutes, trying to solve the problem. If Jaden performed too quickly today, he would lose the advantage: Dalton would know Jaden did not struggle with the task at hand.

  He stared at the ball but didn’t try to move it. To solidify the performance, Jaden squinted and frowned in fake frustration. Jaden used the time to consider Dr. Dalton. What kind of doctor was he? More importantly, what was this place? The tattoo on his arm meant something, but what he did not know. Of course Dalton knew everything, but Jaden was sure he would never answer should Jaden ask.

  William entered.

  “Well?” Dalton asked.

  Jaden made a deeper frown as he stared at the ball, as if this interruption disturbed his focus.

  “Thought processing,” William answered.

  “Thank you,” Dalton said, exasperating and pinching his nose.

  “Jaden,” Dalton said and Jaden looked up.

  “What?”

  “You’re faking it aren’t you?” Dalton asked as he intertwined his fingers and set them on the table.

  Crap.

  “Faking what?” Jaden asked, his face burning.

  “The sensors tell us where the activity is in your brain. Right now you’re using the parts of the brain that control thought processing and imagination. You’re not trying to move the ball, you’re trying to trick me.”

  Jaden looked at Dalton’s hands. He wore a gold ring.

  If the people behind the mirror monitored his brain activity, they would know when he lied. The problem was the array, Velcro-strapped around his chest, with sensors tapped into his head, reading activity. It must be an expensive device. Dalton, the arrogant fool, was alone with Jaden. Such trust. If his staff was watching from the observation room, it would take a few seconds for them to react. Interesting.

  In a fluid motion, Jaden unstrapped the unit from around his chest, removed it from its nylon case, and slammed it against the edge of the concrete table, breaking it. He collected the wires in one hand and yanked them. Glued to his skull, the wires snapped. Inspired, Jaden leapt across the table at Dalton, who had retreated to a corner. Holding the frayed collection of wires in his hand, Jaden lashed them against Dalton’s shielding arm.

  He only got in a few strikes before Dalton found the button on the remote control that powered the electric collar. By the time the pain was over, William had returned. He wrestled with Jaden for the wires and ripped them from Jaden’s hand. Tossing the wires to a corner, William grabbed Jaden around the chest, then forced Jaden in to the manacles on the table.

  A stolen glance proved Jaden’s stunt effective. Dalton’s lip was curled in annoyance, and he glared at Jaden with his unnatural blue eyes. Jaden made him look a fool. Even though his wrists burned, and William had him in such a tight headlock his vision blurred, a sense of vindictive pleasure flowed through him.

  Then, to his disappointment, a second unit, identical to the one he destroyed, was brought in and William, with the help of Casey, removed the old sensors and replaced them with new.

  Fine. Jaden would not move the stupid ball across the table. Today he would pee himself if it came to it. They were not going to learn how he did what he did. He had already accidentally peed on this bench. Yesterday he resigned himself against the humiliating act, but yesterday he wore no sensors. Today’s situation was different.

  William put the new unit in place, gluing the sensors to Jaden’s head. He then took a seat next to Jaden, perhaps anticipating another outburst.

  Dalton locked eyes with Jaden and stared him down.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Jaden said, forcing a grin onto his face. “Did that interfere with your fucking schedule?”

  Dalton rubbed his chin then folded his hands on the table. “You gave me your word,” he said.

  Jaden sighed. “Yeah, I guess I did. But you know me, don’t you? ‘Foster children can be so unpredictable and rash.’ Isn’t that what you said? We’re prone to fuck-ups.” Tossing Dalton’s own words back at him was satisfying.

  “Hmm. I did say that. You’re right. Would it be ridiculous to assume that you’ll carry on with the exercise?” he asked.

  “Hmm,” Jaden mocked, making a face. “I think maybe it would. You can go to hell.”

  Dalton smiled. “I appreciate your honesty.” He removed a key from his pocket and placed it on the far end of the table. With a nod to William, he and William stood and left, the steel door clanking shut behind them. Jaden was alone.

  Even though his arms were fully extended and locked in place, he might be able to swing his leg on the table and slide the key toward his hand using his toe. Shins on the bench, Jaden extended his left leg up and out, reaching for the key. But Dalton had put it just far enough that he couldn’t reach, so he sat down and huffed.

  How long should he wait? His arms were already cramping, and his wrists were killing him. Dalton had tightened the restraints to pinch his skin.

  Ducking, Jaden rubbed the top of his head on the edge of the table, managing to dislodge a few sensors. Encouraged, Jaden twist his neck to pop off the remaining nodules glued to the sides of his head.

  To his non-surprise, the door opened. William, not Dalton, came in alone. Without a word, he plucked off the remaining sensors, removed the unit from Jaden’s chest, and replaced it in its black case. Then he grabbed the key and unlocked the manacles. Jaden pulled his hands from the table, and stared at them. His wrists were swollen and angry.

  “Get up,” William said.

  “You didn’t say please,” Jaden said in false politeness, simpering at William.

  Dalton’s henchman hoisted Jaden off the bench by the collar, choking him. He tried hitting and elbowing William in the gut, but like his cohorts, William was strong, and held Jaden’s arms in place. Kicking all through the hallways, Jaden spewed profanities in as many vile combinations as he could think of.

  William tossed him into his room, and Jaden collided with the door as it slid shut. The anger he felt was real, even though he was following his first rule of resistance when beneficial. He’d scored a tiny victory in keeping Dalton out of his head for one more day. Today’s rebellion rekindled his desire for immediate freedom.

  He paced the padded cell for longer than he could count. What was Dalton’s next move? And how would he counter it? His self-imposed rules repeated themselves in his head: resist when beneficial, dignity before humiliation, never show true emotions. Rule three was the hardest. After being forced into a shower, naked, and guarded by three strangers, it had been impossible to hide the truth. He had to pretend this was some kind of game, a test of wills. At least for now.

  How many people sat behind the mirror, studying his movements? One? Two? More?

  Jaden strode to the mirror and pounded on it with his fists. He didn’t care that it was immature. A constant pounding on the glass would piss off anyone behind it. Right now all he wanted was some chaos. Even a smattering of chaos would satisfy him.

  So he banged. First he kept up a rhythm, then he tried beating to the sounds of songs he remembered. He beat Mary had a Little Lamb for at least an hour, then switched to Twinkle Twinkle when he got bored.

  The door clanked open. Martin came inside.

  “Stop that,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “Oh,” Jaden said, coming away from the mirror. “Does that bother you?” So Martin stood sentry behind the mirror. Who else?

  Martin scowled and left.

  If one fist was annoying, two would be better. Jaden drummed a fast percussion of annoying beats. His hands were sore, and his wrists in agony, but it was for a good cause.

  Then it was the tall, black man who came inside. Sentry number two. Jaden didn’t know his name, they’d never been introduced.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Jaden asked.

  He didn’t
answer. Martin came next, holding a straight jacket.

  “So you shitheads don’t appreciate my musical talents?” Rather than wait for their response, or for them to tackle him to the ground (which they would do eventually), Jaden walked toward them with his hands outstretched.

  Their confusion was amusing. Jaden shook his arms. “Well, put it on, will you? I’m very busy today. Let’s just do this.”

  Martin and the other one put the jacket on Jaden with no problems, fastening the buckles behind him. After they’d finished, Jaden turned and walked to the corner of the bed and wall, a place where watching eyes could not find him. It was time to run through another experiment.

  Keeping with his current genre, Jaden belted Mary had a Little Lamb, loudly and out of tune. He repeated the nursery song several times, sometimes singing flat, often just yelling. A few times he screamed it. His throat ached after a while, so he switched to Yankee Doodle. He replaced some of the lyrics with more colorful versions he’d heard at school.

  And, like he had during Jaden’s foray into drumming, Martin came storming into the cell, all patience gone.

  “SHUT UP!” he yelled.

  Jaden bit his lip to keep from grinning. When he thought he could control his face, he said: “I can take requests, if you’d like.”

  Martin’s anger was palpable. “Shut. Up. Now.” Even his hands shook, he was so vexed with Jaden’s screaming/singing renditions of the classics. Jaden was tempted to keep pushing. How far would Martin take it?

  “I won’t shut up,” Jaden said, though his voice was cracking and his throat sore. “You’ll just have to ignore me, won’t you?” Jaden ran through all the songs he knew, and none of them were irritating enough, not even close, to the repetition of children’s songs. Maybe he’d have to try the ABCs next. Or he’d switch it up, mix songs together, yelling them off key. The Wheels on the Bus... Perfect.

  When Jaden opened his mouth and began the first stanza, Martin grabbed Jaden’s cheeks and chin in his hand and squeezed.