Has Anyone Seen Jessica Jenkins?

by Liz Kessler

  For a moment, I just stared. My thoughts dried up. My blood froze in my veins. What did this mean? Was he the person who had given me superhuman powers? Was that what this place was about? Injecting weird liquids into crystals to make them do what the rose quartz had done to me? Or had he just discovered the rose quartz’s properties like I had?

  Either way, something super weird was going on, and if his chart was anything to go by, this man knew a whole lot more about it than I did. I tried to make some kind of sense of his spreadsheet, but other than those three words, the rest was a complicated mass of data that meant about as much to me as it would have had it been in another language.

  If it hadn’t been essential that I remain silent, I would have kicked myself. Why hadn’t I concentrated better on the spreadsheet lessons in school? I might have been able to make some sort of sense of it then. If only Izzy were here with me. She’d understand it much better than I could.

  I had a thought.

  I slipped my hand into my pocket and drew out my phone. Double-checking that it was on silent, I found the camera button and took a shot of the computer screen.

  Then I hit the button to open a new text. I typed my message and sent it to Izzy.

  “Get me out!”

  “You again!”

  The man was standing in the doorway, blocking it completely.

  Izzy was outside, a bottle of lemonade in her hand and her bag slung over her shoulder. “I just wanted to let you know that I found number twenty-three, in case you’d been worried.”

  “Good,” the man said. “I wasn’t worrying about it, actually, but I’m very happy for you. Now, if that’s all . . .”

  “Yes, that’s all,” Izzy said. “And, thank you.”

  “All right. Well, you’re welcome.” The man was starting to close the door.

  No! Izzy, don’t go! I’m still inside!

  Izzy turned to leave, but as she moved, she tripped, dropping her bottle on the ground. “Whoops, sorry,” she said as lemonade spilled everywhere. The man jumped back. Instantly, I squeezed through the doorway and didn’t stop running till I was down the path and halfway up the road.

  Izzy caught up with me as I was crouching low behind a hedge, turning myself visible again. “Thanks!” I said. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  As we walked, I filled Izzy in on everything I’d seen. At the bus stop, I got my phone out and showed her the picture of the computer screen. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t get it,” Izzy said, squinting at the photo. “What does it all mean? What are those numbers? And why all the other crystals?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I figure he must either be experimenting on them all to see which ones make you invisible or doing something to the crystals to make it happen.”

  “I agree. But even if he is, we still don’t know why it only works on you.”

  I shook my head. “I know. I don’t get any of it.”

  “Maybe we should ask Nancy,” Izzy suggested.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  I thought about her question, and I wasn’t sure of the answer. I told myself it was because Nancy probably didn’t know anything. Just because she knew this man didn’t mean she knew what he was up to with the crystals.

  The real truth was more complicated, though. Nancy had been like an aunt to me my whole life. I couldn’t bear the thought that she might have something to do with all this — that she could be using me as part of some kind of experiment. If that was the truth, I wasn’t ready to hear it yet. And I wasn’t sure how to explain all that to Izzy, either.

  “I just don’t want to,” I said in the end.

  Izzy nodded. Maybe she understood without my having to explain.

  “I know who we could ask,” she said after a while.

  “Who?”

  “Tom.”

  “Tom? We can’t involve him in this! We can’t tell anyone about it!”

  “Come on, Jess, it’s Tom. He’s the one person we both know we can trust. He wouldn’t tell anyone else,” Izzy argued. “And I figure we could use a brain like his on the case. We don’t even have to tell him about you turning invisible.”

  I frowned. “Really?”

  “Really. Not if you don’t want to. We could just show him the spreadsheet and see what he makes of it.”

  I thought for a moment. Izzy was right. Tom loved solving logic problems even more than Izzy did. If anyone could make sense of this, it was probably him. And she was right that we could trust him, too. “OK. Let’s get him on board,” I said as the bus rounded the corner.

  Izzy already had her phone out.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Texting him to tell him to meet us at my house. We can send the pic to my computer and blow it up so we can see it better. We’ll show it to Tom and ask him what he thinks of the chart. You can be in charge of how much we tell him. OK?”

  I nodded at Izzy as we got on the bus. “OK.”

  Forty-five minutes later, Izzy and I were sitting at her kitchen table with her laptop open, waiting for it to boot up so we could open the picture, when the doorbell rang.

  “That must be Tom,” I said.

  Izzy jumped up to let him in.

  “Hey, girls,” Tom said with a smile as he came into the kitchen. “What’s going on? What’s with the weird text?” He sat down at the table and waited for one of us to answer.

  I looked at Izzy. She looked at me. And then I said, “Look, you’re going to find some of this hard to believe, but as long as you promise to keep it to yourself, I’m going to tell you everything — and all of it’s true.”

  Tom’s smile faltered a little. “Sounds ominous,” he replied nervously. “Go on, then.”

  So I did. I told him everything that had happened. Tom listened in silence to the whole thing.

  When I’d finished, he stared at me with his mouth open. He glanced briefly at Izzy, then back at me. And then he burst out laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” Izzy asked.

  “This! This — story, or whatever. It’s great. I love it. You two crack me up with your crazy stuff.”

  “Tom, this isn’t crazy stuff,” I hissed. “Well — I mean, yeah, it is pretty crazy. But it’s not a story. It’s true.”

  Tom leaned in closer. “You’re honestly telling me that you can turn invisible?” he whispered.

  “Yes!”

  “And that there’s some sci-fi lab in the middle of town full of crystals and charts and potions and mad scientists that might be responsible for it? Which, by the way, would actually be the coolest thing in the world, if it did exist.”

  “It does exist!” Izzy insisted.

  Tom scowled. “Really? I mean, really?”

  I stood up. “Tom,” I said impatiently, “watch.” And then I took a deep breath, cleared my mind — and turned myself invisible.

  Tom’s eyes looked as if they might actually pop out from his face. He turned to Izzy. “She . . . she . . .”

  “Yeah,” Izzy replied. “She turned invisible. Just like she said.”

  I made myself visible again and sat down. “Now do you believe us?” I asked.

  Tom swallowed and nodded.

  Izzy reached for her laptop and clicked on her e-mail. “Now that we’ve got that settled,” she said, “take a look at this. See if you can make any more sense of it than we could.”

  “OK,” he said. His voice was a bit shaky. “I — sorry, Jess. I mean, I didn’t think you were actually lying, I just found it a bit hard to believe.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I told him. “So did I at first!”

  “But, I mean, how is this even possible?” he went on. “Like, scientifically? Mathematically? Logically?”

  “Maybe not everything is logical and mathematical,” Izzy countered.

  Tom gave her the kind of look most people would give you if you’d suggested that the moon had turned orange and had cows grazing on it.
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  “Everything is mathematical,” he insisted. “Even things you can’t see, like atoms. Even nature. The tides, the moon, the petals on a flower. All of it is — ”

  “Look, we can’t explain it,” I said, waving a hand to stop Tom before he got going on his favorite subject and we ended up straying too far from what we were here to do. “Not yet. That’s why you’re here. To help us figure it all out.”

  Tom cleared his throat and leaned toward the laptop. “OK,” he said. “Let’s have a look at this picture.”

  The three of us stared at it in silence for a couple of minutes.

  Eventually, Tom sat back and shook his head. “I don’t know what to make of it,” he said. “I mean, obviously, it’s a classic database-oriented spreadsheet, but too much of it is using unidentifiable markers. Without being able to quantify the algorithm, it’s almost impossible to identify the linear dependence among the variable data to provide a valuable analysis.”

  I tried to look at Tom in a way that implied I had a clue what he had just said.

  “Come again?” Izzy asked.

  Tom thought for a moment. “Sorry. I forgot we speak different languages.” He slowed down, as if talking to someone who’d only just learned to speak English. “Basically, a lot of this is in code, and until we can crack the code so we understand what all the initials refer to, this chart doesn’t give us much to go on. Does that make more sense?”

  “I think so. Do you think you could crack it?” I asked.

  Tom shook his head. “To be honest, from this picture alone, I doubt it. There just isn’t enough information to go on. I can give it a try, but don’t hold out too much hope. E-mail it to me and I’ll study it at home tonight. I’ll let you know if I come up with anything.”

  Izzy tapped a few keys on the laptop. “OK, done. Thanks, Tom.”

  I thought for a moment. “All of which leaves us no closer than we were before we found the lab.”

  Tom looked at me. “You know, there’s another way you can find out what’s going on here.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “You could ask the man.”

  “The man from the lab?”

  “Uh-huh. The scientist, or whatever he is. He’s the only person you know who could definitely give you some information.”

  Izzy nodded slowly. “Tom’s got a point — except I can’t exactly see him opening up to us after we’ve already annoyed him.”

  Izzy was right. She couldn’t knock on his door for a third time, and there was no way I was going on my own.

  I had another thought. “Wait! Didn’t you write down his phone number as well as his address?”

  Izzy rifled in her bag and fished out her notebook. She flipped it open and showed me the page with the man’s details on it — address and phone number.

  “You’re right. We can’t go back there,” I said. “But we could call him and get him to meet us. He won’t know it’s us from a phone call.”

  “Make sure you meet him somewhere neutral. And public,” Tom said. “Just to be on the safe side.”

  “And somewhere he can’t slam a door in our faces,” Izzy added.

  “At the park?” I suggested.

  “Perfect,” Izzy agreed. “How about the green bench with all the graffiti by the lake?”

  “Great,” I agreed. “Plus, it’s nice and public, just in case he gets seriously annoyed with us. Tomorrow morning?”

  Tom frowned. “I’ve got Math Olympics practice tomorrow at eleven. I won’t be free till early afternoon.”

  Math Olympics is an interschool math competition, and Tom is one of the star members of our team. Most boys Tom’s age would probably do something like play soccer in the park on a Sunday, but then, Tom isn’t most boys — which is partly why Izzy and I like hanging around with him. He’s good company, even if he can be a tad geeky. And at times like this, geeky was no bad thing.

  “How about we start without you?” Izzy suggested. “Text us when you’re free and we’ll let you know where we are.”

  “Cool. I’ll meet you afterward.” Tom grinned. “Can’t wait. I don’t think I’ll be able to concentrate on math.”

  “Wow,” Izzy countered. “That would be a first!” Then she passed me the card with the scientist’s number on it. “Go ahead.”

  “Wait. Why me?” I asked.

  “I’ve spoken to him too many times already. He might recognize my voice. There’s no way he’ll talk to me after I stopped by twice and spilled lemonade all over him.”

  I looked at Tom. He held his hands up in front of him. “Hey, I’m just here as an adviser,” he said. “Plus, well, come on. You know me. I clam up and stammer like an idiot with people I don’t know. I think this should come from you.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” My mouth went dry as I keyed the scientist’s number into my phone.

  “You can do it,” Izzy said.

  The line rang four times before an automated voice kicked in. “I am sorry, but the person you are calling . . .”

  I put my hand over the receiver. “Voice mail.”

  Izzy grimaced. “Leave a message!”

  I calmed my breathing while the voice continued, “Please leave your message after the tone.”

  The line buzzed and went silent. I cleared my throat.

  “This is a message for the scientist at the laboratory on Albany Road,” I said, throwing a “Help me out!” look at Izzy and Tom.

  Izzy smiled encouragingly. Tom gave me a double thumbs-up. “Go on,” he whispered. “You’re doing great!”

  “It’s about the crystals,” I went on, trying to make my voice sound as confident and authoritative as possible. “And it’s about . . .” I cleared my throat again. “It’s about invisibility.”

  I glanced at Izzy and Tom again. They were both nodding vigorously.

  “I believe that we may be able to help each other. If you want to know more, come to Smeaton’s Park, tomorrow, at one o’clock. We will meet you on the graffiti-covered bench next to the lake. Please do not tell anyone about this call. Thank you.”

  I ended the call and put my phone down. My heart was hammering so hard it was giving me chest pains.

  “Fantastic,” Tom said, smiling broadly.

  “We’re on for one o’clock tomorrow,” added Izzy.

  “Yeah,” I said as I tried to gather my thoughts. The only problem was, they refused to be gathered. They were too busy turning into butterflies and chasing one another around my stomach.

  The next day at 12:55, I was standing at the park gates. Izzy arrived a couple of minutes later.

  “Sorry I kept you waiting,” she said breathlessly. “Mom made me clean my room before coming out.”

  “I haven’t been here long,” I said. “Come on, let’s get to the meeting point.”

  We reached the bench by the lake. It was empty.

  “I’m going to stay just out of sight,” Izzy said. “I don’t want the man to recognize me and leave before you’ve had a chance to talk. But I’ll be close by. OK?”

  I nodded.

  “You ready?” Izzy asked.

  “Kind of,” I said with a grimace. I sat down on the bench while she wandered off to wait on the other side of a tree next to the lake.

  If it hadn’t been for the fact that I was so nervous that I thought I might be sick, it could actually have been kind of fun. In a hey-look-the-world’s-gone-crazy-and-you’ve-suddenly-got-a-superpower-and-are-about-to-meet-up-with-a-mad-scientist-in-the-park kind of way.

  I tried to relax, but then I realized I couldn’t let myself. If I calmed my breathing and relaxed my mind too much, I might start accidentally turning invisible! And since I was sitting in the park in broad daylight, about to meet a strange man, that might not be the best thing I could do at that point. So I just sat there with my head down, fighting the urge to be sick and hoping he’d turn up soon.

  “Jessica?”

  A familiar voice startled me out of my thoughts. I loo
ked up. Nancy! What was she doing here? She couldn’t be here! The scientist was due to show up any minute. I had to get rid of her!

  “I . . . er, I . . . hi!” I said. Cool as anything. “I can’t really talk at the moment. Sorry. Nice to see you, but I’m too busy to chat right now.”

  Nancy must not have heard me properly — either that or she was terrible at taking a hint. She sat down next to me.

  I stared at her, mouth open. “This seat is saved!” I blurted out. What a stupid thing to say. You can’t save seats in the park. But what else could I say? Why wasn’t she taking the hint?

  She reached over and took hold of my hand. “It’s good to see you, Jess,” she said softly.

  “Um. Yeah. You too,” I said, trying for a smile, but probably doing that thing with my face that you do when your mom puts on a dress that does nothing for her and you tell her how great she looks.

  I pried my hand away from her and stood up. I’d have to hide out somewhere and wait for the man to turn up. I’d spot him when he got here and I’d give him some sort of signal. I’d figure something out. “I’m really sorry,” I said. “I can’t stop. I’ve got things to do.”

  Nancy stood up, too. She looked at me, an unreadable expression on her face. “Sit down, Jess,” she said.

  “I can’t!” I said, starting to panic. “See, I’m going to be late . . .”

  “Jessica,” Nancy said in a tone of voice I’d never heard her use before. “Sit.”

  I stared at her. Like a good dog, I sat.

  I glanced at my watch. Nearly ten past one. He’d probably seen the two of us here and wouldn’t come over till I was on my own. I had to get rid of Nancy. “I’m waiting for someone,” I said feebly.

  Nancy took a long, slow breath. Then she turned and looked me straight in the eye. “Jess,” she said, “you’re waiting for me.”

  I spent the next minute or two staring blankly at Nancy with my mouth open. I was glad it wasn’t summertime or I’d have swallowed at least half a dozen flies.

  “I’m waiting for you?” I managed eventually. “I don’t understand.” At least, I really, really didn’t want to understand.