The Glass Wall (Return of the Ancients Book 1)

by Madison Adler

  I took his box out from under the bed and poked the little mouse in the belly, waking him up from his nap. He yawned, his whiskers vibrating as he sniffed my finger.

  “I got you some yummy food.” I smiled, feeling happy that he’d eat well now. “But first, some exercise.”

  Tucking him into my pocket, I walked past Betty and Al huddled over some spy supply website and skipped out the back door before they could stop me.

  I took a deep breath of fresh air.

  It was in the middle of October. The leaves were falling, but it was still warm. Neelu had told me it wouldn’t be for long, though. She said it was always rainy and cold by Halloween and that was less than two weeks away.

  I checked out the chicken coop and watched the bizarre chickens for a few minutes before heading to the greenbelt that sprawled behind the house. A tiny path led through the evergreens. I followed it, enjoying the heavy scent of pine.

  After a few minutes, I found a secluded spot among several huge trees and boxed off a nice sized playground for Jerry with rocks and logs. Satisfied that it was a secure environment, I took him from my pocket and dumped him into it, watching him skitter around, sniffing in excitement. Sprinkling some of the hamster food in front of his face, I smiled as he stopped running to select a seed and sat on his haunches to nibble it.

  Sometimes, I felt guilty for keeping him. I’m sure he’d probably prefer his freedom to living in cardboard boxes, drawers, and backpacks with me, but I couldn’t bring myself to let him go. I played with him, catching him as he climbed the walls of his enclosure to place him back down again in front of the seeds.

  I looked up at the evergreens surrounding me, closing my eyes to listen to the wind rustling their branches. It was a pleasant place, and I knew I was going to like hanging out here.

  Jerry and I stayed there for quite some time. Finally, I noticed it was growing late. I figured I’d better return. It was probably close to dinner, and I was certain they’d have chores they’d want me to do.

  Jerry looked pleasantly tired as he washed his face with his paws and he didn’t resist as I tucked him back into my pocket.

  I’d taken only two steps back to the house when I heard voices.

  Instinctively, I ducked back into my hiding place.

  Rafael and Harmony appeared, walking in my direction.

  “Are you sure about this?” Harmony asked with her brows creased in a deep frown.

  “Yes,” Rafael said. “Summon both Zelphie and Marquis. You know I’m right and now Jareth is changing his schedule to come here sooner. He must have sensed it too. We have to find her before he does.”

  For some reason, the hair stood on the back of my neck. I drew back further.

  They were less than twenty feet away.

  “Very well,” she murmured. “But I can’t leave until Ajax gets here.”

  “He’s coming.” Rafael tilted his head to the side. “I’ll be safe. You may go now. This is urgent.”

  Jerry wiggled and I glanced down, pushing him deeper into my pocket. When I looked up again, Rafael stood by himself next to a small cloud of smoke that had mysteriously appeared.

  I couldn’t see Harmony anywhere.

  I squinted, wondering where she’d run off to so quickly, but then Ajax suddenly bounded into view. He leapt up on his back legs, jumping at Rafael in an exuberant greeting.

  Placing his hand on the dog’s head, Rafael laughed a little and dropped gracefully to one knee.

  The animal nuzzled his ear.

  It was a rather touching scene, and Rafael was distractingly handsome, but then suddenly, they both turned in unison and looked straight in my direction.

  I froze.

  I swear they stared for at least a minute. I was certain they could see right through the trees, and then Rafael rose to his feet. With a whistle, he strode away, Ajax prancing by his side.

  Unnerved, I hurried back to the house.

  “Good news, Sydney.” Betty smiled as I entered. She leaned over to snag a piece of paper from the printer next to her computer and handed it to me. “Jareth tickets! They just went on sale. He changed his schedule to come here in November. Can you believe it? He’s going to stay in Seattle for a while and record a new album.”

  A cold shiver ran down my spine.

  She watched me for a few seconds and then her face flooded with concern. “What is it, honey?”

  Jerry wiggled, jolting me into action. I had to hide him before she discovered I was carrying a mouse in my pocket.

  “Nothing,” I said, forcing a smile as I took the tickets. “I’m just a little tired. It’s been a busy weekend.”

  She smiled in understanding and I escaped to my room.

  As I tucked Jerry in his bed, I replayed the greenbelt scene in my mind again and again.

  The names Zelphie and Marquis sounded unusual. What did he mean that Jareth had sensed something? People only talked like that in movies and books. And surely, it couldn’t be the same Jareth as in the singer Jareth?

  And where had Harmony disappeared to? I mean, she had literally disappeared. I hadn’t heard her move away. There were dry leaves everywhere on the path. I should have heard something! I’d only glanced down a second and when I looked up, all I saw was Rafael and a fading puff of smoke!

  But most of all, I couldn’t forget how Rafael and Ajax had stared in my direction. I knew with every fiber of my being that they had seen me.

  I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was dreadfully wrong.

  For all of Rafael’s good looks, he was creepy.

  Chapter Three - Jerry

  With the daylight of the next morning streaming through my window, the greenbelt incident didn’t seem nearly as sinister, and I all but forgot about it with the anxiety of going to a new school.

  I kissed Jerry on the nose before I left. I felt I needed his support.

  Al drove Grace and me to school in his truck. He was preoccupied, scribbling in his notebook at every stop sign. His ‘Battle Plan’, he called it. He dropped us off with a salute before heading to his job at the tire store down the street.

  Telling myself that it was just another school, I followed Grace across the bridge. I was too nervous to stop and read the words. We didn’t talk as we walked up the hill and the long flight of stairs that led to the main entrance.

  “Good morning, Grace.” An elderly, gray-haired man smiled at us. He was dressed in slacks and a black shirt with a priest collar.

  “Good morning, Father.” Grace dipped a quick nod of respect.

  “This must be Sydney,” the priest said pleasantly. “Welcome, child.”

  I nodded a bit nervously, wondering how the man had remembered my name with the hundreds of kids behind me and the countless that had already entered. I paused for a minute, just listening to him rattle off the name of each kid as they walked by: John, Reese, Ellison, Maddie, Holly, Russ....

  “What is it?” Grace asked.

  I jumped, startled, and shook my head.

  She frowned a little but took me inside and pointed to the admissions office. “They're waiting for you. See you at the bridge after school.”

  Then she left.

  Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door, and poked my head inside.

  It was fancy. It looked just like a private school in the movies. There were leather chairs with brass rivets, vases of fresh flowers, and large paintings on the walls. There was even a fireplace, but there was no fire burning in it.

  I glanced around, wondering what to do, but then a woman dressed in khaki pants and a white blouse entered from a door in the corner of the room. She was tall, thin, and reminded me of an ostrich.

  “You must be Sydney,” she greeted and came over to shake my hand. “I’m Sister Ann and we are so happy to have you here.”

  The office door opened and a lanky, sandy-haired, freckle-faced boy about my age came into the room.

  “This is Ellison. He’ll be your buddy the next few days.” Sis
ter Ann continued, “You know, show you to your classes and things like that. He’s also in your mentor group, so I’m sure you’ll be friends in no time.”

  Ellison flashed me a wide grin and held out his hand.

  I shook it and swallowed nervously. So he was going to watch me for a few days. I didn’t like being shadowed. I preferred to hide in the background and fly under the radar.

  “We are glad you are here, Sydney.” Sister Ann smiled at me again and then waved her hand in an obvious dismissal.

  “Let’s go!” Ellison strode to the door and opened it for me with a bow. “We missed our mentor group meeting today, but I’ll introduce you to everyone tomorrow. We’ve got to hurry. It’s almost time for English.”

  Holding my breath, I followed.

  The boy oozed friendliness and he loved to talk. In fact, it seemed he couldn’t stop. He talked to everyone he met, about anything and everything, as he guided me up the steps and toward our classroom. He introduced me along the way, but there were so many kids that I lost track of their names.

  I was relieved when I finally sat at my desk and didn’t have to smile at yet another kid that I knew I’d never remember.

  The bell rang.

  English was my favorite subject. I nervously wondered how I’d compare to the other students here.

  “You’ll be used to this place in no time,” Ellison whispered loudly from the desk next to mine.

  I tried to smile. It came out more like a grimace.

  A rotund man with thinning hair entered the classroom and the chatter died.

  “I’m your new substitute, Mr. Richards,” he introduced himself congenially, sitting on the edge of the desk. “I know that you say a prayer before each class, and since I’m not Catholic, can any of you help me out?”

  There was a momentary pause before Ellison raised his hand. “I’d be very happy to show you how we pray here at Issaquah Catholic, Mr. Richards.”

  “Very well.” The substitute teacher nodded. “Thank you, Mr. …?”

  “Ellison Cunningham,” he replied, rising to his feet. With a solemn expression, he placed his hand over his heart and bowed his head.

  The classroom fell silent and I lowered my eyes.

  There was a lengthy pause and then Ellison intoned, “Dear Dark Lord Cthulhu—”

  He didn’t get any further.

  The entire classroom erupted into snickers.

  I glanced nervously at the teacher, but the man’s lips were twitching.

  Mr. Richards waited until the laughter died and then suggested, “Perhaps, you would like to try again, Mr. Cunningham?”

  Grinning widely, Ellison bowed his head.

  This time, the prayer was short and to the point.

  I found myself smiling a little. But only for an instant, as I couldn’t let myself relax yet. I still had no idea what was in store for me.

  The morning flew by.

  I found the classes difficult to follow and I was overwhelmed. I’d have to study hard to catch up. I wasn’t sure I could do it.

  I had science for the fourth period.

  The teacher was Mrs. Kemensky. Ellison had warned me about her, saying she was slightly demented but lovable. She obviously loved cats. She had several framed photos of them on her desk and she wore a pink sweatshirt with a hand-painted kitten.

  I listened to her lecture. At one point, she sidetracked into atoms, ions, and cations.

  “Now, remember what you learned in your freshman year,” she said, taking her glasses off and putting them on the desk. Cupping her hands in front of her like paws, she hopped a little and hissed, “Cat-ions are paws-itive.”

  The students groaned.

  I wasn’t bold enough to smile on the outside though I smiled on the inside. I knew that one day I’d forget what a cation even was, but I’d certainly remember that a cation was positive.

  Ellison picked me up for lunch, herding me into the cafeteria and through the line. As a subject of the foster care system, my lunches were free. It was a relief. I wouldn’t have to risk stealing anything.

  I took my place at the table filled with a mixture of boys and girls that I’d met earlier and had already forgotten.

  “Ah, the cliques,” Ellison said, taking a big bite of his bologna sandwich. “I forgot to tell you about them.”

  I peered around the lunchroom. It was large. Floor-to-ceiling windows covered one wall and a series of vending machines and microwaves covered the other. A myriad of students lounged on large round tables and black plastic chairs.

  Ellison began to rattle off the list of cliques as he pointed to each table with his sandwich. “The Potheads, Preps, Socially-Awkwards, Nerds, World-of-Warcrafters, Lax-Bros, and the Footballers.”

  The World-of-Warcrafters sitting at the table next to us overheard him and smirked. A few stood up and did a little cheer while making signs of the letter W with their fingers.

  “And, of course,” Ellison added with a cheeky grin, “the most epic and elite of all the groups: The Completely Awesomes. But, there’s only one member that qualifies for that one—Me.”

  His friends groaned.

  “Just kidding,” Ellison laughed. “We’re mostly Lax-Bros and a few resident nerds.”

  It was easy to identify the two nerds. They were the only ones who didn’t have some form of a lacrosse symbol on their T-shirts or jackets.

  Ellison was still speaking, “But don’t let us fool you. We’re just like the public schools, only we are sneakier.”

  “Yeah!” One of the Lax-Bros said. “Instead of fighting upfront with our fists, we’ll accidentally whack you with a lacrosse stick on the back and say ‘sorry’.”

  They all started laughing.

  I couldn’t tell if they were joking or not, but decided not to pursue it. The conversation changed to an upcoming soccer game and they all invited me to go with them, several times.

  “She’ll be there,” Ellison finally said. “You know Grace won’t miss it.”

  There was something about the way he said her name that caught my attention. I glanced at him in surprise, but he grabbed his tray and left.

  “Ellison’s in love with Grace,” someone whispered. “She never notices him. He spends all of his time writing poetry and songs—”

  The bell interrupted us and Ellison reappeared to escort me to my next class.

  The rest of the day passed in a blur.

  I was overwhelmed. I was going to have to study until midnight each day to catch up. My head was pounding and finally the last bell rang and the day was over.

  I felt completely drained.

  Grace was waiting for me at the bottom of the bridge, and I was too tired to read the inspirational words in the cement. I made a mental note to read them in the morning as I climbed into Betty’s truck.

  “How was school?” Betty asked as we drove away.

  “It was school,” I said.

  She smiled, but then, it seemed Betty smiled a lot.

  We picked up some groceries and ran a few errands, arriving at home just as Al pulled up into the driveway.

  I grabbed several grocery bags and headed toward the house when the trashcan in the driveway caught my attention.

  My heart stopped.

  Jerry’s cardboard box lay on top, tilted on its side. The old sweater I used for his bed was gone.

  I dropped the groceries and glass shattered as I ran to the trash can.

  “What is it?” I heard Betty ask.

  I shook the box, turning it upside down, and began a frantic search.

  I found the old sweater, but there was no sign of Jerry.

  Tears threatening, I turned to my foster family standing in the driveway, “What did you do with him? Why did you touch my stuff?”

  “I didn’t touch your things, honey,” Betty said, frowning. She looked at the box. “I just cleaned your room today and found that old box under the bed. I must have missed it before, looks like some mouse was trying to make a home there.” />
  I choked.

  Jerry was gone.

  Heartbroken and angry, I shouted with a shaking voice, “Don’t touch my things!”

  They stared at me, obviously confused.

  I was faintly aware of Rafael standing across the street, watching with his Doberman, but I didn’t care. I continued to shout, “Just because you’re helping an unwanted foster kid, it doesn’t mean that I don’t count! You still can’t touch my things! I’m still just as valuable as other people are and my feelings count too!”

  I ran into the house, not even sure why I had said those things. I locked the door to my room and began a desperate search, but Jerry was long gone.

  Finally, I sat on the floor, clutched my knees, and let the tears loose.

  They knocked on my door, several times, but I ignored them.

  At one point, I heard someone pushing something under the door. It was a piece of paper with cheese and crackers on it. I guess Betty was worried that I hadn’t had dinner, but there was no way I could eat a thing. I’d just lost my only friend. No, Jerry wasn’t just a friend. He was my family.

  The thought of him being cold, hungry or eaten by a cat made me break down into a fresh bout of tears. I cried myself to sleep that night, crying harder for Jerry than I ever had for my mother.

  The next morning, I appeared at the breakfast table with puffy eyes. The conversation was polite. No one mentioned the box or the events of the night before.

  Later at school, as we walked up the sidewalk, Grace finally asked, “Are you okay?”

  I wondered why she even bothered to ask. I was sure she didn’t even like me. I didn’t want to think of Jerry. I was tired of crying. “No,” I said shortly.

  She just looked at me and shrugged.

  I walked past the priest who greeted me by name, but I just ducked my head. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone.

  Ellison met me at the entrance. I’m sure he noticed my swollen eyes, but he didn’t mention them. He took me to our mentor group meeting. It was strange. They didn’t do anything for half an hour other than talk to each other about their weekend plans. I didn’t understand the point of the meeting. I kept looking out the window, trying not to think of Jerry and his tiny paws.