The Sensitive

by Mary Coffin

  As soon as the fear returned, the crows responded by cawing even louder. Fynn let out an exasperated grunt.

  “ENOUGH! All of you be GONE!” she cried as her arms flung through the air in their direction.

  In an instant, hundreds of crows took to the sky, screeching and scrambling over each other to catch flight. With so many trying to occupy the same space at the same time, each one bullied its way past the others but none would retreat.

  Suddenly, Fynn saw nothing but a black mass of feathers and claws coming her way. She needed to get out of the tree, fast! She swung herself to the underside of the branch as her feet desperately searched for the first foothold to start the climb down. Something sharp pierced her hand and she shrieked.

  In a split second, she was dangling by one hand from a branch that was too thick to be grasped single handedly. She glanced up and saw two crows, in a gritty battle, right next to her hand – which was slipping. She looked down. The ground was too far to jump without breaking something and she hadn’t mastered the use of energy well enough to help herself but none of this mattered. Her hand slipped and she fell.

  She squeezed her eyes tight. She didn’t want to know when she was going to hit. Just when she expected to feel the harsh impact, her body jerked slightly as something broke her fall. Opening one eye to sneak a look, she found herself several feet above the ground, for no visible reason.

  She let out a sigh, not realizing she was holding her breath. She noticed Ben standing by the tree, a knowing grin on his face, and the others were on the back patio. She crossed her arms over her chest defensively.

  “You can put me down, now,” she said.

  “A little nervous, are we?” asked Ben.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your nerves put out a vibration that attracted the crows. Heck, they probably thought they were being called by the mother crow of them all.”

  “Pffff,” she said in disbelief.

  He walked closer to face her. Because she dangled so far above the ground, they were nearly eye to eye.

  “Fynn, you’ve been given all the ammunition you need. We gave you the basics. It’s up to you and your imagination to make them work to your advantage. Getting the necklace back can be very simple. Or, you can make it hard by allowing your emotions to get in the way.” He tapped his head. “This is your only obstacle – nothing else.”

  Fynn looked away and a tear appeared in the corner of her eye.

  Ben motioned through the air. “Slaw dropa.”

  Fynn was gracefully lowered until her feet touched the ground. He pulled her into a hug and let her cry.

  “It’s okay, Fynn.” After a moment, he let go and examined her face. “Do you want to talk about what’s really bothering you?”

  “I feel like I’ve let my mother down. I didn’t protect the only thing she gave me.”

  He studied her for a moment. “You’ll get it back. It’s going to be so simple. You just have to trust that what I’m saying is true. You’ll see.” He turned his head so that he looked at her sideways, through the corner of his eye. “What else?”

  Her lip quivered and she sucked in a breath. “If I leave here, I leave my mother forever.”

  He hugged her again and let her cry some more. Then he put his hands on her shoulders. “Not true. When we get to Elione, you can learn more about your mother and father than you would ever learn here. The archives have all our history.”

  Fynn perked up at hearing this. With the back of her hand, she wiped the wetness from her eyes and sniffled. “Archives?”

  He nodded. “We’re all in there. Once we get back, I promise to take you there.”

  Chapter 22

  _______________________

  Jon handed Fynn a cup. “Here, drink this.”

  “If that’s the moldy-stinky-feet-tea...no thanks.”

  “It isn’t. It’s a pleasant tonic that will help you with your mission.”

  “Really?!?”

  He nodded.

  Fynn took the cup and drank. It was warm and sweet. She handed it back. “Thanks.” She didn’t catch Mel’s knowing glance at Jon or the playful smirk on her face.

  Earlier that evening, Fynn and Tibby had been allowed to sleep for a few hours before Mel woke them shortly before midnight. They were all going together, at midnight. Even Cnāwan.

  The plan was to park the car in a remote spot, previously picked out by Jon. Then they would hike the rest of the way to the back side of the home. By the time they arrived, it would be almost one o’clock in the morning. Everyone at Happy Days should be sound asleep at that hour.

  Ben drove, with Mel in the front seat beside him. Jon, Tibby and Fynn shared the back seat. As Fynn crawled inside, she noticed several backpacks behind the seat. She settled in the middle and Cnāwan curled up on her lap.

  They drove in silence. After going down the hill from Ben’s house, they headed toward town but he turned onto a rural road before entering Tungate proper. The three-quarter moon in the sky allowed them to see their surroundings fairly well.

  They passed a couple farms surrounded by open meadows and fields of crops. Ben turned onto a dirt road, drove for a distance and then pulled into an open field. Ahead was an old building, worn and weathered from years of neglect. He parked behind it so the vehicle couldn’t be seen from the road. There was a cluster of trees not far away, next to an equally run-down, abandoned house.

  “Remember this shed?” asked Tibby.

  Fynn studied the building as she subconsciously reached for her head. She remembered how much those rusted shears pulled her hair. “Yeah. The worst haircut of my life.”

  Tibby mocked a hurt look on his face as she grinned back.

  They got out of the car and Ben, Jon and Mel put on the packs.

  “It should take about thirty minutes from here,” said Ben. He adjusted the straps of his pack so it sat evenly on his shoulders. “We’ll take the most direct path.” He looked around to confirm that they were alone. “Keep your eyes open for signs of other people. Talk as little as possible.”

  ~~~

  The moonlight reflected off the black iron fence up ahead. Ben was in the lead and, as they approached, he softly said, “Flowan.” Each person repeated it as they stepped through the barrier into the trees on the back edge of the courtyard. Fynn and Tibby shared an uneasy glance and then stared at the building across the moonlit courtyard.

  Tibby leaned over and whispered. “Feels strange being back here, doesn’t it?”

  She nodded. He didn’t want to be there any more than she did.

  Ben rested his hand on her shoulder. “We’ll be right here. Cnāwan will go with you.”

  Jon whispered, “Remember, it’s as easy as taking candy from a baby. Drinking the tonic was added assurance.”

  Fynn nodded her understanding, although the relaxed warmth she felt after drinking it was quickly being replaced by anxiety.

  Ben shot Mel a questioning look and mouthed the word, “Tonic?”

  Mel held a finger to her mouth to indicate that now wasn’t the time. “You’ll do just fine, Fynn.”

  Fynn turned to face the building. A butterfly feeling passed through her gut and she took in a breath. During their hike, she had time to think. The dream about getting stuck in the concrete wall was still fresh in her mind so she chose to walk through the back door instead. It felt less restrictive to step through a thin door than those condensed, heavy slabs outside the building.

  Mel told her that the concept was the same, whether she walked through marble walls or a piece of paper. The only restriction was that her mind didn’t believe how simple it really was. Fynn still struggled with that concept.

  Cnāwan walked ahead of her as they crossed the courtyard. They reached the back door and effortlessly stepped through. Once inside, Fynn stopped and listened. She didn’t want to encounter anyone in the hallway and, fortunately, it
was dead quiet.

  Chapter 23

  _______________________

  Cnāwan sat on the floor beside her, waiting for her to make the first move. The cat looked up in anticipation.

  Fynn knew the cat wouldn’t say anything, unless it was absolutely necessary. Instead, Cnāwan stood and rubbed against her leg. She was glad for the company and appreciated the silent encouragement.

  She walked straight to the hallway that led to the girl’s side of the building. She passed the rooms for the instructors and, Eloise, the house assistant. The doors were closed and she was glad for that. She continued down the hall and, at the end, poked her head around the corner to see the room of sixty beds. Most had bodies in them. Apparently, more girls had already been taken in since she left. She watched for a moment, to make sure there was no movement. The vibrations swirling in the room struck her awareness, like the scent of a skunk suddenly filling her nostrils.

  Facing the room, she passed her hand through the air and quietly said, “Freosan.” At least that would calm the vibrations for a while. She watched to make certain that no one moved. Using the light from the hallway, she proceeded to the bed in which she last saw little Snipwit. There she lay, face up, frozen in sleep - as still as a corpse.

  Fynn didn’t expect the box to be lying out in the open but knew there weren’t many options for hiding places. She put her hand underneath the pillow and felt around.

  No box.

  She looked under the bed and at the underside of the mattress.

  No box.

  She felt around in the bedding, on all sides of the girl.

  No box.

  Maybe she’s wearing it. She checked the girl’s neck.

  No necklace.

  She was beside herself. She looked around the room and didn’t see any other reasonable hiding places. It was the last thing she wanted to do but, after some thought, she decided to unfreeze and wake the girl.

  In the air, directly above little Snipwit’s body, she created a ball of matter and kept it airborne as it spun and pulsated. She passed a hand over the girl. “Thawian.”

  The girl returned to normal sleep. Fynn gently nudged her. The girl’s eyes opened and immediately went wide. She was about to scream so Fynn slapped a hand over her mouth. Little Snipwit’s eyes darted back and forth between Fynn’s face and the ball of matter directly overhead. Then the girl looked at Fynn and visibly relaxed at recognizing her.

  Fynn bent over her face and whispered. “If you scream, I’ll make sure you never speak again. Understood?” The girl nodded. “I’m going to move my hand. Don’t scream, or else!”

  The girl remained still. “How...where...”

  “Where’s the box with the necklace?”

  “Wha...”

  “The box. You took it from my bed the day I left. Where is it?!?”

  The girl thought about it...and kept thinking about it. After several moments, her face took on a sad expression and she quietly said, “It’s important to you, isn’t it? The necklace, I mean. Did someone special give it to you?”

  Fynn couldn’t believe it! The girl wasn’t the least bit afraid. Nor did she show any remorse for taking something that didn’t belong to her. Fynn was momentarily thrown off guard and the last thing she came here for was conversation. She gestured with her hand toward the ball of matter. It grew and formed into the head of a lion. It grumbled a deep, guttural growl.

  “Where is it?!?” she demanded.

  Even though she gazed at the lion, the look in little Snipwit’s eyes was distant, as though she had just ventured off to visit a distant memory, and didn’t even see the lion. “I suppose it is important, or you wouldn’t have returned. I had a necklace. It was my mother’s...but it was taken from me when I came here.” Then, as if she suddenly returned, she looked at Fynn. “You could get it back for me!”

  “No. Give me the box or it will eat you alive!” The lion bared sharp teeth and gave a fierce hiss.

  The girl startled as though she just noticed the lion for the first time. For a brief moment, her face registered fear but then a smile slowly formed on her lips. “If it eats me then you’ll never get your necklace back.” Giggle. “If you get my necklace for me, I’ll give you yours.”

  Fynn sighed in exasperation. She looked down at Cnāwan for help. As the cat returned the gaze, Fynn saw her mouth turned at a slight angle, as if Cnāwan had just said, Hmmm. Interesting.

  Fynn rolled her eyes and looked back at the girl as she dispensed the ball of matter with a flick of her wrist. “Where’s your necklace?”

  The girl excitedly sat up. “In the vault – upstairs – in Miss Snipworth’s office. I’ll come with you.” Little Snipwit described the necklace to Fynn. Then she went off on a tangent of how the necklace was a gift to her mother and how beautiful it looked on her, especially with her ivory dress. “Oh, how I miss my mother. I bet you miss yours, too. We all do. It’s so sad how things happen. I remember the time when my mother took me to...”

  Fynn didn’t have time for this. She swung both hands through the air, in a circular motion, and said, “Haldan.”

  The blankets on the bed suddenly came to life and wrapped around the girl, like a cocoon from the neck down, and held her in place.

  “Hey, wha...”

  Immediately after, Fynn waived a finger. “Freosan!”

  The conversation abruptly ended and there was silence, once more.

  Chapter 24

  _______________________

  If someone had cut the Happy Days’ building in two, going right down the center of the stairs, there would be two identical halves. The location and purpose for the rooms on both sides, upstairs and downstairs, was identical. The only exception was that girls were on one side and boys were on the other. Miss Snipworth lived upstairs on one side and Mr. Herman lived on the other.

  The center of the building and the courtyard in back seemed to be the only neutral territory where both sexes encountered each other. At the top of the stairs was a closed door with a sign: Nurse. As Fynn crept upward, she had the sense, once again, that this place was more of a prison than a home; it was a sterile environment.

  She resolved that it wouldn’t hurt anything to give little Snipwit what she wanted. If retrieving little Snipwit’s necklace made her happy and Fynn got her own necklace back in return, why not provide this small favor for the girl? At first she was angry that little Snipwit took her locket but, after thinking about it, she understood. The girl simply wanted to have something unique, something special, to call her own. Who wouldn’t want that in an unfeeling place like this?

  She made an assumption that Snipworth’s office would be to the left, above the girls’ side of the building, and Herman would be to the right, above the boys. She turned left and encountered an unmarked, closed door.

  “Flowan.”

  To save time, she poked her head through the door to look around before entering. Bingo! It was an office and she saw a vaulted door behind the desk. Just as she was about to step through, she heard a gurgled sound in the hallway, almost like someone was choking.

  She pulled her head out of the door and looked to her right. Snipworth stood in the hallway in a nightgown; her face drained of all color, like she had just seen a ghost. She must have seen the headless body standing at her office door.

  It took a moment for her brain to recognize Fynn. She pointed a shaky finger. “You! How did you...”

  Fynn observed her face as she tried to make sense of it. Before Snipworth could find her next words, Fynn waived a hand through the air. “Forgietan.”

  She watched as the expression on Miss Snipworth’s face went blank, and then return to shock at seeing Fynn standing before her as though she was seeing her for the first time.

  Snipworth startled at the sight. She slowly raised her arm and pointed a shaky finger. “You! How did you...”

  Fynn giggled at the
instant replay. “Forgietan.” She watched as the blank expression turned to shock once again. As Snipworth’s eyes widened and she raised a pointed finger, Fynn cut her off. “Freosan.”

  Snipworth looked like one of those pale mannequins, posing in a store window, but with a freakish expression on her face. Fynn stepped up to her and wondered about something. She put her fingers to both corners of Snipworth’s mouth. She was able to bend her mouth into an awkward smile, in spite of having been frozen. Then she took the finger that was pointing, bent the arm slightly, and stuck the finger in Snipworth’s ear.

  Fynn stepped back and giggled at the sight. Then she leaned in close to Snipworth and said, “You should see yourself. You might even laugh.” Then, as she turned back to the office door, she mumbled, “You need to get yourself a sense of humor, lady.”

  Fynn stepped through the door and looked at the vault. It was huge, nearly the size of a bank vault, which meant it had a thick door. She took a deep breath, told herself to relax, and walked through.

  Inside were shelves, crammed full of stuff. At least Snipworth had categorized the items. One area was nothing but stuffed animals. Another section had books. Various toys occupied more shelves. There were a few hats and some small books that looked like diaries or journals. As she stood there, she started to get angry at the thought of how all these personal items had been taken from kids. A part of her wanted to empty the vault and take it all downstairs to give back to the boys and girls but there wasn’t time and there were too many things.

  She felt the cat’s paw on her leg and looked down. “I know. Stay focused on the task.”

  It looked like Cnāwan smiled back at her.

  “You know, for a cat, you sure have lots of expressions.”

  She spotted a section with jewelry and walked over to it. It only took a moment to recognize little Snipwit’s necklace. She scooped it up and walked out of the vault. She was just about to walk through the office door and into the hall, when she heard a male voice.

  Chapter 25

  _______________________

  “Greta. Are you all right?”

  Fynn poked her face through the door just enough to see. A man stood next to Snipworth and stared at her. He tentatively reached out and poked her in the arm.