For I Could Lift My Finger and Black Out the Sun (32 page)

7

“You’ve got to be freaking kidding me,” Bobby said when I told him what I wanted to do.

“And you have a better idea?” I asked, hands on my hips.

He thought. For a minute, at least. In terms of the least introspective 14-year-old on the planet, it was impressive. It meant he
really
didn’t want to accept my plan. “I got nothing,” Bobby finally said.

“Then we’re agreed?”

“Sure, fine, whatever. Call.”

I pulled out the flip phone. When it powered up, the little battery indicator was nearly invisible. I figured I’d have one shot, maybe a minute of talking. I dialed the number.

She answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Mom! It’s me,” I said with more relief than I’d felt in a long time. Shocked, she launched into a litany of questions, so I had to yell to interrupt her. “Mom!” Finally, she relented. “My phone’s gonna die. Bobby and I are in —” I checked the brochure again. “— Percetville. Granite County.”

“What? Really? You mean way up north?”

“Yeah, Mom, listen. We need you to come up here. If we’re going to get Holly back, we need a ride.” Bobby rolled his eyes.

“John, the police watch me all day long. Because you two are missing… They say it’s for my own good, even though I tell them I’m fine. Maybe they think something else will happen here. I’m not sure. I don’t think I could go anywhere without them knowing.”

I sighed. It was the only idea I had. “Is there any way? Any way
at all
?”

Silence greeted me on the line for a moment. “Hold on, I think I know what to do. Most days around lunch, the officer on duty here asks if I want anything to eat. I say no, but tomorrow I could say yes. Ask him to go pick up something; sometimes they do that, leave me here alone for 10 or 15 minutes. There’s only one officer, and I could make sure he’s gone long enough for me to disappear.”

“That’s perfect, Mom! Just don’t get caught. Back streets only. Or get another car.”

“Hm. Okay, how about this? I’ll drive to the capital, and hide my car in Aunt Cindy’s garage. She’ll let me take her car, I’m sure of it.” Mom sounded positively
happy
.

“Okay, Mom. Percetville. We’ll look for you by the library. Honk three times, like you’re picking up kids. We’ll be waiting.”

“I won’t get there until the day after tomorrow, if I have to switch cars and all. Will you be all right?” Worry crept back into her voice.

My phone beeped. I looked at the screen and saw the battery icon blinking red, then quickly lifted the phone back to my ear. “We’ll be fine. Mom, I have to go. I love you. Thanks!”

“I love you, too, John.” I reached for the END button on the phone, but she spoke again. “Oh, and John? Thanks for trusting me.”

I started to reply, but the phone died.

* * *

“Seriously, Johnny?”

“What?”

“It’s so… I don’t know.
Embarrassing
.” Bobby made an exaggerated gesture, like the worst of all possible things had come to pass.

“Do you want to
get there
or not?”

“Of course, I do. But…”

“But
what
?”

“We’re, you know, like, super-powerful and stuff…”

“Uh-huh?”

“And we have to get a ride from your
mom
? Jesus. Like I said, it’s so embarrassing.”

“You want me to call her back? Have her bring juice boxes? Maybe PB&Js, too?”

Bobby socked me in the arm. “No. And you’re not funny.” He wandered off, but I knew the truth. Despite what he said, despite the embarrassment and his sudden teen angst, I knew Bobby
liked
PB&Js and juice boxes.

* * *

The next two days were simultaneously the most boring ones I’d had on the road, and the most anxious. At night we camped in the woods outside town. During the day, we tried not to draw attention to ourselves, and when it got to be around the time we thought Mom would arrive, we hung back from the library, able to see the front of the building from afar. Every time someone pulled up, we jumped in case it was her.

Bobby kept asking me if I’d recognized the car, but the truth was that I had no idea what my Aunt Cindy drove. So we jumped at every car equally.

Finally, late in the day, with the library already closed, a car that could only be described as
old school
drove up slowly and came to a stop.

“Is that her?” Bobby asked.

“I don’t know.” Then the horn blew, almost timidly. Once, twice, three times.

It was Mom.

We hurried across the street and over to the waiting vehicle. On the way, Bobby couldn’t help but offer a critique. “A wood-paneled station wagon? Really? Your aunt still drives a wood-paneled station wagon?”

All I could do was shrug it off. “Don’t people call them
woodies
?”

“That’s not helping,” Bobby said.

I got to the passenger window and looked inside, almost afraid of who I’d see, but sure enough, she’d come. My mom. Seeing us, she threw open the door and ran to me, giving me a long, tight hug. When she was finally done, it was Bobby’s turn. “I never thought I’d see you again, Bobby.” Then she stepped back, taking us both in. “Actually, I never thought I’d see
either
of you again.” There were tears on her cheeks.

Okay,
now
Bobby truly was embarrassed. “Um, thanks, Mrs. B. But we really should get going. Right, Johnny?”

“Yeah.”

“Hold on,” my mother said, eyeing us. “There’s one thing I need to know. Actually, it’s something I need to
see
. So I’m sure.”

Normally, I might have been offended at my mom’s lack of trust, but I knew right away what she meant. I’d asked her to take a leap of faith bigger than the crossing of an ocean. She deserved to know it wasn’t bullshit. I looked at Bobby, who seemed confused, and I nodded.

Twisting, I took off my backpack and placed it on the sidewalk in front of me. Then, with a quick flicking gesture, I sent it slamming into the wall of the library. Mom’s eyes nearly bugged out. Still, she regained her composure and looked at Bobby. And he made his own flicking gesture, sending the pack flying back toward me. At the last second he made a clenching motion with his hand and the backpack froze in front of me, then settled into place where it had started.

Mom shook her head in disbelief, but walked to the driver’s door. “Thank you, both of you. Come on. Get in.” That’s all she said.

We tossed what little gear we had in the cargo area of the station wagon and hopped in, me in the front passenger seat, Bobby alone in the back. Mom looked around, already used to making sure no one was watching, then slowly drove off.

Within an hour, Bobby and I were asleep. Mom drove on, hour after hour. Somehow she’d stocked up on cash, because when she did stop for gas, she never used a credit card. We were still living off convenience-store food, but at least we weren’t stealing it anymore.

We did only four hours that first night, the three of us sleeping in the station wagon semi-hidden in some trees on the side of the road, but managed 15 hours the next day, getting us past the halfway point. The landscape outside grew flat, with long stretches of farmland growing wheat and other grains. On the third day, we abruptly reached foothills, which led to mountains, first small, then much, much larger. Snowcaps. We followed the highways and switchbacks threading between the high peaks.

Everyone’s spirits were high — we were making great time, and we were even comfortable, for the most part. Bobby and I had cushioned seats instead of sore feet. Mom must have been miserable doing so much driving, but she never complained. And the car, despite its age and ridiculous appearance, ran well.

Right up until disaster struck in the form of a woman scorned.

8

I was nearly asleep, even though it was mid-morning, not midnight. In the back of my mind, I felt guilty, having Mom drive us the whole way while all we did was lounge around. Bobby was already snoring. He’d been awake for maybe two hours that morning.

As we came out of the mountains, the weather got warmer, the landscape more orange and brown, less green. I’d like to blame our laziness on the heat, but in truth we’d also slept while Mom drove through the cold mountains, the cool foothills, the dry plains, and the shady forests.

The trip had turned into a series of naps for Bobby and me.

“So you can move things with your mind?” Mom said, startling me back awake. She spoke in a low voice, trying not only to let Bobby sleep, but to keep the conversation between just us. “That’s called
psychokinesis
, right?
PK
?”

“Is it? I’ve never heard that word in my life.” I blinked and rubbed one eye.

Mom kept looking straight ahead. It seemed like she was trying to make casual conversation, but I could tell from her strained tone that she wasn’t feeling terribly casual about the whole
superpowers
business. After all, I was her son. “I’ve been thinking about it, since your demonstration at the library. I’ve had a lot of time to think.” She gave a little laugh and thumped the steering wheel with one hand, reminding me again of how long she’d been driving.

“Well, yeah, I guess we have… PK. But there’s more. Our bodies are, like, impervious to injury. Well, maybe not
all
injury, but the basic kind — we can avoid it. And even when we do get injured, we heal really fast. Plus, I can harden my skin, my flesh, like stone. Become a sort of weapon. In fact —” Realizing I’d been ranting, maybe even bragging, I glanced over at my mom, and found her still staring straight ahead. It was like she was unwilling to look at me. “Mom...?”

“Yes, John. Please continue. What else can you do?” Her bottom lip quivered just a little bit, like she was trying to hold in a tide of emotion.

“Mom.” I leaned over, putting my head on her shoulder. “Mom. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask for any of this. You have no idea how many times I’ve wished it was all a dream. That I was just a normal kid. I don’t know why this happened to me, or Bobby.”

Her emotion ebbed, enough so she could control it, and she put her arm around me. “Oh, John, I’m so sorry. I wish I could do something to make it better. I’m so, so sorry.” She squeezed me as tight as she could at the awkward angle.

“There’s only one thing that’s going to make me feel better now,” I said. “Getting Holly back. Nothing else matters.” I closed my eyes.

And my mom let out a horrified gasp, stomping on the brakes and bracing herself against the steering wheel. I lurched forward, opening my eyes as the car started to slide, its front end slipping to the left. Behind us, Bobby flew into the foot well with a sharp yell. There was something in the road, and we hit it, hard, with the passenger side of the car. Abruptly, we skidded to a stop.

I had half a second to wonder what happened when my door was ripped open, nearly off its hinges, and the Norse god of vengeance stood above me, hell with blond hair.

Margrethe had found us.

She reached in and grabbed me by the shirt, pulling me forward, then tossed me into the air. I slammed against a rock wall beside the road. If I were just a normal kid, I’m pretty sure I would have died on impact. But my body responded quickly, becoming solid and protecting me. I thought of hummingbirds, their wings too fast to see with the naked eye. My body reacted on hummingbird time. Shaking off dirt and bits of rock, I stood.

In front of me stood a very powerful and very angry woman, blocking my way back to the car. I could see my mom sitting in the driver’s seat, still gripping the steering wheel, mouth agape, eyes bulging, probably wondering how I lived through such a collision. The rear door on the far side of the car opened quietly and Bobby slipped out.

I had to distract Margrethe. “What do you want with us?” I shouted.

“Not with anyone else.” She pointed at me. “With
you
. My business is with you alone. You
killed him
. You killed Petrus!”

I raised my hands, palms up. “He
attacked me.
He tried to kill me. What was I supposed to do? Besides, I didn’t kill him.”

She scoffed. “No, you’re right. You
didn’t
kill him. You did worse. You destroyed him. You ruined his mind and left
nothing
.” She let loose a pained sound, a shriek. “He couldn’t speak! He was just a shadow. I had to help him eat. I had to help him do everything! With what you’d done, he wasn’t
there
anymore. I gave him mercy. But his blood is on your hands.”

Her words hurt me, the accusations were like daggers, but I realized that they were also making me mad. Bobby had crept around the car and was positioning himself behind Margrethe. I had to keep my cool, and maybe throw her off-balance. “No, you didn’t give him
mercy
,” I said. “If Petrus is dead, you did it, not me. When my sister had a seizure, a long, long time ago, she was left unable to speak. We had to help her eat, we had to help her do everything. But we
did
. We didn’t just give up on her. If you loved Petrus, then you’ve betrayed him.”

“How dare you speak to me this way?” Margrethe stood in shock at my words. A mere boy had just condemned her, and she didn’t know what to do. I could feel the conflict inside her, the rage boiling ever hotter. Maybe I could use that to our advantage.

“I can’t predict the future, and neither can you. Petrus might’ve gotten better. But now you’ll never know. And now, we’re going to save my sister. And no heartless witch like you is going to stop us.”

Moving fast, Bobby appeared, coming around the back of the car. He attacked her in her moment of confusion, using his mind to drag her violently toward him. His fist turned to steel, and he delivered a double-strength blow, both striking at her and pulling her in at the same time. As she slammed into him, Margrethe’s body went rigid and I could tell she was unharmed. She bounced and staggered away, then recovered. She gave Bobby a quick look of hatred and swung hard with her own iron fist. Bobby sailed across the road, skidding to a stop a good distance away.

Figuring my only chance was when she was distracted, I jumped forward, willing Margrethe to be struck by my mind. She fell back against the car, but immediately turned. My body solidified, but I found myself once again flung wildly through the air.

It was Bobby’s turn again. He leaped onto the roof of the station wagon, looking down on Margrethe. To me he yelled, “Together!” and reached out to hold Margrethe frozen in place. She struggled against it, and I thought that she’d quickly wriggle free. So I reached out with my mind.

Despite her defenses, the razor-thin blade of my attack pushed through, into the very core of her brain. Margrethe shuddered at the violation, but her spine weakened and Bobby’s hold stayed true.

I paused, the hot dagger of my attack lodged a hair’s breath away from killing her. “Stop! I don’t want to hurt you!”

She growled. “But I
do
want to hurt
you
.” Her teeth were clenched and her eyes gleamed with fury. “You’re going to have to do it, or as soon as I’m free, I will kill you.”

“No,” I said, wavering.

A small smile crept onto her face. “Yes. Let me go. Let me kill you for what you’ve done.” She jerked to one side and Bobby flinched, working hard to keep hold of her.

“No,” I repeated. Past Margrethe, inside the car, my mother still watched, terrified. I realized that if I acted, my mother would see me kill another person. I couldn’t do it. The molten blade I had used to cut through her mental defenses started to cool. Then I had an idea. “No. You’re wrong. I don’t have to kill you.”

I reached forward, redoubling my efforts to get into her mind.

Bobby yelled, a combination of fear and exhaustion. Holding her for so long, as she fought hard against it, was wearing him out. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m trying something!” I replied, closing my eyes. Seeing Margrethe only with my mind. There, inside her, I saw flashes of her life… Looking up at a woman much taller — was that her mother? Then a boy, maybe a brother. Many things flashing by, people, places, even a dog. Then a moment… An important moment came into my view — confusion, joy. It was the moment she realized she had power. I mentally waved at the scene and it faded. Then another. Meeting Sol. Again, I waved it away.

Following so many pathways, flicking so many invisible switches.

Margrethe’s body stopped fighting. Then she went limp.

“I think you can let her go,” I said to Bobby. He just shook his head, terrified she’d turn around and try to crush him. “Really, I mean it.”

Slowly, Bobby released the hold, then fell back, expecting her to rage.

Margrethe just stood, looking around, like she’d never seen us before.

“Are you okay?” I asked her.

“Ye — yeah, I think,” her voice said. A different voice. Not angry, not hateful. Confused, afraid, maybe shy. “Where am I?”

Bobby and Mom continued staring, no idea what had suddenly changed. “Where are you from?” I asked, trying to sound reassuring.

“Uh, Pine Vale. Why?”

“I think you’re a long way from Pine Vale.” I smiled. I couldn’t believe it, but it seemed to have worked. “Do you want to go back?”

“Yes. Yes, I really do. I don’t know how I got here, but if you all could help me get back to Pine Vale, I’d be so grateful. But wait — I don’t even know your name.” With the anger removed, I could see Margrethe more like she must have been before all this happened to her. Tall, athletic, muscular, pretty. And very polite.

“My name’s John. That’s Bobby,” I said, pointing. “And that’s my mom. And sure. We’ll help you.” Behind Margrethe, Bobby gasped. I turned to my mother. “Right, Mom? Can we give her a ride to a bus station or something?”

“Uh. Okay. I guess,” she said, finally remembering to breathe. She gave me a look, a look that every kid knows well: Mom was going to want a pretty serious explanation.

* * *

“I made her forget,” I said as we watched Margrethe wave and turn back toward the bus station. Mom had helped her get a ticket, even paid for it with nearly the last of her cash. The station wagon had a huge dent on the side and the front passenger door seemed to be hanging on by a thread, but looking around the bus-station parking lot, I saw many other cars in various states of disrepair. We hardly stood out.

“What do you mean, John?” Mom asked.

“Yeah, Johnny, I mean, I know all about pushing minds, but that was
serious
.” Bobby still couldn’t believe what had happened.

“That’s all. At the moment, Margrethe has no idea she has powers at all. She’s forgotten the entire thing. Me, you, Sol, even Petrus.” I felt guilty about the last part, if they truly had been in love. Somehow it seemed worse than taking him from her the first time. “But honestly, I’m surprised it worked so well, for this long. As far as I know, she might sit down on the bus and remember everything. So we’d better get out of here.” I turned back to look at them so they’d know I wasn’t kidding.

Mom started the engine.