Wheels (2 page)

McKenzie took her time savoring the cold, clear water, ignoring the pale green wad of gum near the drain. She splashed her face, half thinking she might wake up and everything would be normal. Dad would be working, Grandma Mir sleeping, and reality wouldn’t twist itself into something else simply because McKenzie thought about it. Everything would be normal, the way it had been up until three days ago.

She’d been staring at her father’s new van; furious he’d brought home the hideously lemon, blindingly bright, yellow clunker instead of the blue van she’d wanted. “Statistics show, Mickey-D, people who drive yellow cars have fewer accidents.”
Arghhh! That’s because they’re too embarrassed to drive them.
Suddenly, as if the clunker had heard her thoughts, particles of yellow began to swim…or maybe it was more like dance. In any case, suddenly the van was blue—
Bright Royal Fricking Blue!
Just like today, time seemed to slow. The van was yellow, the particles danced…the van was blue. Her dad had walked out of the house yelling something about homework, and back in slow-mo time, McKenzie had watched the particles move again—not so much dancing now, but rather, slipping back into place. By the time her dad was standing next to her, the van was yellow again. He never mentioned it and McKenzie, convinced she must be having a reaction to her grandmother’s dinner of meatloaf with marmalade, decided it was best to forget about it.

McKenzie dried her face with the bottom of her jersey, tucked a stray curl behind her ear and turned around. Her first instinct had been right. Forget about the van. Forget about making mouths disappear and moving basketball hoops. Stop eating grandma’s meatloaf with marmalade. Her dad was a scientist.
Look at the facts, McKenzie. Look at the facts.

So…
Fact number one: new town, new school, and most important, new team. McKenzie had spent the first thirteen years of her life in the middle of the Midwest where the weather was miserable, the scenery flat and her mother lay buried. Thousands of miles and what might as well have been thousands of light years from where they lived now.

Fact number two: no one had bothered to mention the prize for testing out of freshman level courses was freaking hard classes and extra homework. Not to mention being branded a geek.

“WU! Get over here.”

Ah, yes…
And, finally, fact number three: Coach Nickels. For some reason, he had it in for her. No wonder McKenzie’s mind was playing tricks on her. Tonight she would go home and go straight to bed—no homework, and just to be safe, no leftover meatloaf either. Sleep. That’s what she needed. Sleep…and a lot less marmalade.

Chapter 2

FBI TRANSCRIPT 21201

Agent Wink Krumm and McKenzie Wu
Monday, April 6th

KRUMM
: I’m with the FBI, Miss Wu. That’s Federal—

M. WU
: Bureau of Investigation. Yeah, I know.

KRUMM
: You understand, that what occurred in Avondale during those five days goes far beyond what is considered normal, and that in such cases, it is an agent’s duty to—

M. WU
: Harass me?

KRUMM
: Excuse me?

M. WU
: You’re harassing me—right?

KRUMM
: I prefer the term…
investigate
. Now, perhaps you can tell me where I can find your great-great grandmother’s diary.

M. WU
: Diary?

KRUMM
: Don’t play dumb with me. If you can’t help me, I believe your great-great-great uncle Wells will be only too glad to assist.

M. WU
: Believe me, he’s not that great.

KRUMM
: So you say. As it turns out, however, your great-great grandmother, Julianne Anderson, had a brother named H.G. Wells. He apparently died on safari, and yet, the official record states: “…body was never found.”

M. WU
: Bodies disappear.

KRUMM
: And so, it seems, does evidence.
Now
…about that diary.

***

THINGS THAT GO BUMP

Monday, March 16th
Avondale School

M
cKenzie rolled through the front doors of Avondale School, backed into the corner behind the open door, closed her eyes, and despite a purely scientific view of the Almighty, prayed to remain invisible.

Students swarmed past in a blur of shuffles, shouts and bits of morning gossip. Most of them walked, but many of them, like McKenzie, were in wheelchairs. Even after two months, it still amazed her. In her old town, she’d been one of only three wheelchair students in the entire school. Here, she was one among many.

“Mac! There you are.”

Hayes!
McKenzie held her eReader in front of her face.
Not today! Not now!

Rudy Hayes Jr., or “Hayes” as he insisted upon being called, stood in front of her, rocking back and forth in his favorite bright red running shoes, waiting for a reply. McKenzie didn’t look up. She didn’t need to, as she could easily picture Hayes trying to work out why she was ignoring him; his thick, dark eyebrows knitted together in one long unibrow. Being “patiently impatient,” as her grandmother would say.

Hayes stopped rocking. “You playing peek-a-boo?”

“Gotta study.”

“Behind the door?”

McKenzie lowered her eReader. Hayes was grinning. “Awesome game, Wu!” He held up his hand for a high five. When she didn’t respond, he grabbed her eReader.

“Give it back!”

“Aw come on, Mac. Can’t a guy take some interest in what his freshman genius buddy is studying?” Hayes was holding the eReader upside down. “Any of those senior nerds make a move on you yet? Give me the word and I’ll,” he gave the air a little one-two punch, “reprogram their computers.”

Despite her mood, McKenzie laughed. Hayes’ sideways grin, dazzling white teeth against milky brown skin, was blinding. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

Hayes handed her the eReader; then stood back and crossed his arms. McKenzie had known him for only a few months, but could already recognize the signs. Hayes had something to say. “Last night I had this bizarre dream…”

Dream?
McKenzie couldn’t believe it. She was still trying to shake off last night’s nightmare and now, suddenly, Hayes wanted to talk dreams.
Time to go!

 “…I was racing against girls who had wheels instead of legs. They were fast, but I was faster. What do you think?”

Normally, McKenzie would have loved sparring with Hayes. Jabs, insults—normal stuff.

“Earth to McKenzie. The race! What do you think about the race?”

Her hands slipped down to the shiny, navy blue rims of her wheelchair. “Gotta go.”

Hayes pointed toward the end of the hallway. “What’s your hurry?”

McKenzie felt trapped. Claustrophobic.
What the heck is Hayes pointing at?
She squinted.
Something at the end of the hallway?
Then it dawned on her.
Race.
Hayes wants to race. Here. Now. With me!

That changed things.

Competition
always
changed things.

Best estimate, McKenzie figured it would take her ten, no, nine-seconds to reach the corner…even weaving between students. Maybe seven, if she used her—
What am I thinking?
“I can’t!”

“Come on, Wu. What’s wrong with you? Lately you been acting like a—”

“Don’t say it!” McKenzie gripped her rims. Her heart was beating so loudly, she was sure Hayes could hear it.

“Mac, what’s wrong? You look…well, you don’t look normal.”

I am so way past normal!
McKenzie sighed. It was bad enough she had to keep her mind from dwelling on any subject too long for fear of turning someone into a frog or, worse, another mouthless monster like Penny Nickels. Even her dreams were dangerous. Last night she’d dreamt about the accident—the one that had killed her mom and left her paralyzed. An accident she'd had no memory of—
until now.

McKenzie took a deep breath. Hayes was wearing cologne. Nice cologne. She looked up. Dark chocolate eyes stared back at her brimming with questions and something else—
ah yes, impatience
.

“I can’t race,” she said, hoping her voice sounded stronger than she felt.

“Chicken?” Hayes took a step back.

“Yeah right!” She had to get out of here. “Move it, Hayes, or I’ll move it for you!”

“Soooo, if you’re not chicken…” Hayes smiled, “then you must be in a hurry to get somewhere. Class?” He leaned closer. “Or is it a boy?”

McKenzie knew she was blushing.
Breathe. Just breathe. I cannot afford to get into trouble.
“I have the game this Saturday.”

“Right.” Hayes smiled and stepped aside. “The Game. Calm down, Red, I was just teasing.”

Before either she or Hayes could change her mind McKenzie said, “Gotta go,” and took off down the hallway, forcing herself not to look back. She was about to round the corner when she heard, “You’d lose anyway.”

Lose?
McKenzie spun her chair around.
LOSE!

Hayes was laughing at her.

The hallway was filled with students hurrying on their way to first period class. McKenzie’s mind was fried from thinking and then trying not to think. Maybe a race was just what she needed. After all, she had an entire day to get through without turning someone into a frog.

“Watch out!” Hayes jumped out of McKenzie’s way. “Those are my toes you know.”

“Right here, right now.” McKenzie punched a button to change the camber of her wheels. “Down the hallway and around the corner, Miss Rosenthorp’s room. I wouldn’t want you to be late.”

Hayes slipped his backpack off and tossed it over the back of her wheelchair.

McKenzie grabbed her rims and leaned forward. “Forget your backpack on my chair again and I put it on eBay. Three, two—” She blasted her horn and they were off.

Students moved to the sides of the hallway cheering and whistling, and true to his dream, Rudy Hayes took the lead.

McKenzie rounded the corner a second behind him. Hayes didn’t see Principal Provost roll into the middle of the hallway. He was too busy looking back to check on his lead. McKenzie tried to warn him. She stopped. She gestured wildly. Hayes laughed; then turned and—
smack
—ran right into Principal Provost’s wheelchair.

The hallway echoed with a collective intake of breath, and then there was silence.

Hayes lay sprawled across the Principal’s lap, forehead against one wheel, feet dangling across the other.

Principal Provost helped him stand up. “Your head has had a run-in with my chair, and I believe you lost.”

Hayes’ hand floated to his forehead. He winced as fingers met bloodied flesh. His face went a shade paler, and just as he began to sway, Principal Provost grabbed him. “Walk your sorry self down to Nurse Prickel’s office. After she’s finished with you, go directly to my office and wait. Understood?”

Hayes swayed the other way.

“
Concentric
, help me!” said Principal Provost using one of the many odd expressions for which he was famous. “You.” he said, pointing to a short, decidedly timid-looking, red-haired boy. “Accompany Mr. Hayes to the nurse’s office.”

The boy eyed Hayes suspiciously and carefully led him away.

McKenzie began to back up.

“Miss Wu, where do you think you’re going?”

First period warning bell rang and the students began shuffling towards their classrooms.

McKenzie stared at the floor. She took a deep breath and another…
I wish, I wish—I wish I could disappear. A hole would be nice. A small hole and I’d be gone.

A bead of sweat slipped over McKenzie’s nose, dropped to her chin and began the long, slow descent down her neck. Particle by tiny almost invisible particle, the burgundy and gray, granite floor tiles in front of her began to shift. Not dissolving, but rather, rearranging themselves.

“Ahemmmm!”

McKenzie blinked and looked up. Principal Provost was staring at her, his mouth open, eyes questioning.
What have I done?
“The ba, ba, ba—bathroom,” she stammered, for lack of a better distraction. “I have to go—RIGHT NOW!”

Down the hallway, someone giggled.

She’d expected to see Principal Provost looking angry, even surprised. What she hadn’t expected, was to see him staring at the floor, his face as pale as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Miss Wu?”

McKenzie looked down. The floor had returned to normal. “Yes!”

“What?”

“I mean, yes Sir.”

“Remove that horn from your chair.” Principal Provost was still staring at her strangely. “Give it to Miss Chantos. This is a hallway, not a highway. ‘Excuse me, please’ will serve you just fine.”

McKenzie grabbed her rims. Principal Provost hadn’t seen anything. Of course, he hadn’t.

“Go directly to my office and wait.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And calibrate the camber on your wheels. Three degrees max when in school, unless you’d like to be confined to a chair like mine for the next few weeks.”

McKenzie eyed Principal Provost’s heavy, clunky, old-fashioned wheelchair. “No, Sir!”

“And given that you’re so worried about being late for class…”

McKenzie nodded, allowing the sound of Principal Provost’s voice to slip into the background. Down the hallway, Joanne Chang and Penny Nickels were whispering.

“Therefore,” continued Principal Provost, “compose a 1,000-word essay on the dangers of racing through a crowded hallway. You will have plenty of time to…”

Penny’s face looked perfectly normal, thank goodness. Joanne smiled, and before she could stop herself, McKenzie smiled back. She couldn’t help it. You smile. I smile. We’re equals.

Only they weren’t.

Joanne Chang had perfectly straight hair, falling in perfectly straight lines, along her perfectly smooth, perfectly thin face. Worse—she was Hayes’ girlfriend.