"Sam, my blog gets all of twenty hits a day, if I'm
lucky. That's hardly enough to gain us huge support."
"But anything can go viral at any moment. We just need
a little luck and an interesting story."
We stood and walked down the sidewalk littered with
displays, homeless people, street performers and shops. I thought about Gar, my
Rent-A-Kid bodyguard who had died trying to help me escape. He had a little
girl out there, Serena, with powers to heal. His wife was probably in hiding,
but if I could find her, maybe she could help us get the story out.
Or maybe not. She wouldn’t want the world knowing about her
daughter. The power to heal was special, but dangerous. If Serena used her
gifts too often, she would die.
We needed to find our own way of convincing the world to
believe us.
Brad fidgeted with his phone as if it held the answer to reaching
the masses. "I’ve been working on building my social media following, and
this
is
a compelling story. I guess it can't hurt, and there's nothing
else I can think to do at this point."
He searched his phone for something then smiled. "It
does
have a recorder app. Want to do a quick interview right now?"
"Um, sure, I guess."
He clicked the record button. "What's the first memory
you have of your childhood, Sam?"
Drake's body pressed into me—or mine into him, I couldn't
tell—as I thought back to my earlier years. "I don't know if this is my
first memory or not, but I was young, four or five years old, and my teacher
was asking me a question...."
***
"Hello, Sam, what are you drawing?" Mrs. Rosewood
asked.
"It's a mommy and a daddy with a little girl."
"Are you the little girl?"
"No. I don't have a mommy and daddy."
"That's because you are a very special little girl,
with very special gifts."
'So awful that these kids are taken so
young... no family... alone... breaks my heart.'
I touched her hand. "Don't let your heart break, Mrs.
Rosewood. I'm okay. I'm not alone. I have you."
"Sam, did you just read my mind?" Mrs. Rosewood
pulled her hand away.
"I don't know what that means. You said it was awful,
that I was alone and your heart was breaking. Don't be sad. I'm not."
***
"...Mrs. Rosewood rushed out of the room, and the next
day I was moved to a different class. Looking back, I don't understand. I was
already at Rent-A-Kid—that's what we called it. They knew I could read minds. I
guess this teacher just wasn't prepared for it. It freaked her out. After that,
I learned to tell the difference between thoughts and speech. I only responded
to what people
said
."
Brad nodded. A mime started to follow us while we walked. He
pantomimed swinging one arm while holding his phone up, then mimicked Drake's
arm around me. At another time, I might have laughed—he captured the nuances of
their body language perfectly—but my mind was too distracted. He shrugged
dramatically and moved on to another group when we ignored him.
"No wonder you and Drake bonded. He's had similar
experiences."
Catching Drake's eye, I smiled and blew a kiss at him. He
leaned down to make it real.
"What experiences did you have?"
'There's a funny story about a Bishop that I'll tell you
later. But there was other stuff too, like that time I beat up one of my foster
dads when he was beating on his wife and the other kids. It's impossible to
live a normal life with power like this, no matter how hard you try.'
Brad nudged us, and we nearly toppled over like dominoes.
"Get a room, guys."
Drake punched Brad's shoulder, though I could tell he held
back considerably. After all, a true punch would send Brad flying across the
sidewalk and would probably break his arm.
Brad retaliated with his own punch, and the boys were
suddenly running around me like toddlers.
"Hey, guys, you're making a scene."
They straightened themselves and lowered their heads.
"Sorry, Sam," they said in unison.
I laughed and swatted each of them in the arm. "Back to
the questions now?"
Brad cleared his throat and reset the recorder that he'd
dropped. "Right. So, Sam, you can read minds, and you just recently
learned to control minds. Which power do you like best or find more
useful?"
"I don't like using the mind control, but reading minds
isn't as fun as it sounds either." Drake tensed next to me, but I refused
to acknowledge the discomfort inherent in this topic.
"Why don't you like being able to control minds? I
think everyone would want that power."
"It makes me feel dirty. When...." I looked at
Drake, then looked away. "When it was done to me, I realized how it felt
to be powerless. I'd never want to make anyone feel that way."
But I had, just a few minutes ago, and for the pettiest of
all reasons. What did that make me? Self-loathing clawed at my soul. A part of
me would always be tainted by this immoral power. A power Drake also shared—and
embraced. If I hated myself for what I could do, then what did I feel for the
man I loved?
Drake caught my eyes, and I could see him waging his own internal
war. Neither of us said anything about our run-in with Kylie, but it weighed
heavily on us both for different reasons. Drake, I knew, wanted me to embrace
my new powers and use them to protect myself and our baby. I wanted him to find
other ways of handling conflict. I feared we would never resolve our
differences, and it worried me. This power had always been a part of him; by
rejecting the power, was I also rejecting the man?
Brad broke the uncomfortable silence. "Okay, what are
some of your friends' para-powers?"
"My best friend, Lucy, is a human lie detector. She's a
pain in the butt to be around sometimes."
Brad laughed. "I can't imagine what that's like."
I stuck my tongue out at him, then continued. "Her
twin, Luke, is also my best friend. He walks through walls, or anything solid.
There are teens and kids with all kinds of powers—super strength and mind
control like Drake, fire starting, the ability to freeze things,
seduction."
Brad's eyes perked up. "Seduction, huh? Is this a sexy
girl, by chance?"
"You are such a man. Yes, she's sexy. No, you can't
date her. She's a bitch."
"Okay, what else?"
"Hmm... teleporting, floating in the air,
levitation—just about anything you can imagine."
"What's the worst thing you ever had to do for
Rent-A-Kid?"
Five years of assignments, of spying on people with my
"gift," rushed through my thoughts. The worst thing? How do you pick
out the worst from a sea of awful?
Images of Tommy flooded my mind. Poor, sweet, innocent
Tommy, stuck with a father whose thoughts alone had plagued my nightmares for
months. The things he did to those little girls.... I shuddered.
"I was once sent to get dirt on a guy's business
partner. Turns out the dirt was dirtier than anyone had imagined."
I told them about that last assignment, how I'd stood up to
a client and gotten a black eye for my efforts. My thoughts drifted to Tommy
and his family. Tommy's father now served time in prison, but the money had all
been his mother's. Their wealth was intact but their family had been destroyed.
Now that I was free, I wanted to check on him as I had
promised.
The sun beat down on the back of my neck and arms, and I
could practically feel the vitamins soaking into my pale skin.
We walked past a large table with ceramic art pieces on it.
I held up one of the sun and moon interlocked. "I've always loved this
symbol. Wouldn't this make a cool tattoo?"
Drake raised his eyebrow but said nothing. I winked at him
and we continued our walk.
"Hey, check it out." Drake laughed and motioned to
a man with a sign hanging around his neck. Kick My Butt for $1.
I couldn't help but grin. "Seriously? He lets people
pay him to kick him?"
"Yo, Drake, you should do it. It'd be the last
ass-kicking he ever asked for." Brad eyed the guy and clicked off his
recorder.
I was all talked out, and I wanted to enjoy at least some of
this mostly miserable day.
"Leave him alone, you guys. Must be hard enough being
him." Something else caught my eye. "Oh, let's go in there." I
pointed out a big sign that read, "Venice Beach Freakshow, featuring a
five-legged dog, a super tall man, a tiny little woman, a show in which another
man swallows a flaming sword, and more."
We crammed into the small room and watched each
"freak" demonstrate their unique abilities. The guy who shoved an
entire sword down his throat impressed the boys.
"Maybe we should join the Freakshow. We might
finally find a place to fit in. You could be the World's Strongest Man, and I
could be the Mind Reader!"
Drake smiled.
'You know, I actually thought about it when
I was younger. Nearly approached them too, but didn't really want to be the
center of attention like that. I just had this nagging fear someone would find
me if I did.'
"Obviously not an unjustified fear."
I
thought of how they did eventually find him, capture him, and keep him locked
up and powerless like a dog.
'Don't be so sad. I'd go through it all again if that's
the only way I could've found you.'
We had a total tourist moment, taking pictures with the
World's Tallest Man and the World's Shortest Woman before joining the stream of
pedestrians again.
My worry about the world eased away, and I found myself
feeling normal, just enjoying a sunny afternoon at the beach with my boyfriend.
"Dude, is that really you?" A tall, lanky guy with
sun-bleached hair jogged toward Drake with a surfboard in hand. "Man,
where the hell have you been? You disappeared after the competition, and no
one's seen or heard from you since. Dude, you were primed to win that day. What
gives?"
Drake plastered a smile on his face and bumped fists with
the guy.
Brad's smile, at least, seemed genuine. "Rick, how the
hell are you?"
"Hey, Brad, haven't seen you out on the waves lately.
Busy with the writing? Making national headlines?"
"Something like that."
Rick looked at me. "And who's this?"
Drake stood protectively by me. "This is my girlfriend,
Sam. Sam, this is one of my old surfing buddies, Rick."
I shook Rick's hand. "Nice to meet you."
His eyes drifted to my belly then back up. "You too.
How long have you and Drake been together?"
Before I could answer, Drake interrupted. "A while. And
yes, the baby's mine. I'm going to be a dad."
Rick's eyes grew big, but he composed himself quickly and
slapped Drake on the back. "Congrats, dude. That's awesome. You'll make an
epic father. You can teach your little dude how to catch the perfect
wave."
A glow lit in me as I imagined Drake holding our child on a
surfboard, teaching him or her the secrets of the ocean.
"So what happened to you guys?" Rick asked.
"I ran into some trouble that day at the competition.
It's a long story."
"Well, you're back now, and at least that ass-wipe Max
didn’t win. We should hang, catch some waves. You game?"
"Would love to, but my surfboard is trashed, and I
don't have the cash to replace it right now. Besides, I've got some pretty big
things on my plate. I'm just giving Sam the tour before we head home."
"Too bad, man. You were the best of us. Oh, funny I
should run into you. A few days ago, two big guys in black came by looking for
you at the surf shop. Got a bad feeling about them. None of us had seen you, so
we couldn't tell them anything. Not that we would have. What's going on, man?
You got yourself some trouble of the bad kind?"
I slipped into Rick's mind. "Do you remember what they
looked like?"
I didn't listen to his answer. Instead, I memorized the
images he pulled forward so I could draw them later.
Chills ran down my arms.
"People have found us?
Already?"
'Guess so. Shit. I'm sorry, Sam. We never should have
come back to my old stomping grounds.'
"It's not your fault. Where else would we have
gone?"
"Hey, thanks for telling me, Bro. Appreciate it. But
we've got to get going. Can you do me a favor and pretend you never saw me
today? I don't know what these guys want from me, but I have a feeling it's
nothing good."
Rick slapped Drake on the back and fist-bumped Brad.
"Take care, man. I never saw you. Peace, Bro. Nice meeting you, Sam. Take
care of my boy."
Rick walked away and soon became engrossed in conversation
with two girls in bikinis who seemed very interested in his surfboard.
Once Rick was out of earshot, Drake said, "I think it's
time we head to the police. We need to at least try."
I nodded. "Okay, let's go."
I ignored the smells tempting me from the shops. My stomach
rumbled.
Now
would
be the time I got my appetite back.
As we rounded a building with a large mural, the hairs on
the back of my neck stood on end. A man dressed all in black stared at me from
the corner. He didn't avert his gaze when we locked eyes. A chill traveled down
my spine, and the baby kicked hard into my ribs. I grabbed Drake's and Brad's
hands and pulled them around the corner and out of sight.
"Someone is watching us."
We hustled back to the car. I scanned minds to see if we
stuck out to anyone, but didn't find anything. The man was gone. Had Rick made
me paranoid or was someone really following us?
"Sam, who did you see?" Drake asked once we were
safely in Brad's car and headed toward the police station.
"Male. Black pants and shirt. Bald, but not old—his
head looked shaved to the skin. Brown eyes, I think."