The Gifted (14 page)

I actually heard a crack as I hit. I hoped
this was not my skull. I remember something odd here, I was falling
back to the ground and I was probably already going unconscious. I
could see the blue of the sky with some wisps of fog and I could
tell I was falling. I thought I might hit my head again on the
ground but I could not do anything to stop it. The odd thing I
noticed was that the tiger came over to me and I could feel his
breath on my face. He did not roar, but he smiled, if a tiger can
smile. Then he just panted and as he looked at my face, he drooled
on me. It was really quite gross, but it was better than being
eaten.

A moment later he began to lick my face.

Soon after, I could see Tracy’s shoe and her
jeans. She said, “There, there,” but she was not saying it to me. I
think she was petting the tiger. With a tiger licking my face and
Tracy petting the tiger and saying “there, there,” I lost
consciousness.

I was out for a few minutes. I don’t even
know what happened. One moment I was hitting the side of the tiger
with my body and the next I was sitting down on a rock drinking tea
and mumbling something about
SpongeBob
while Tracy was
standing next to me. She didn’t say anything but just looked at me
like I was some rare fish, and then she grabbed me in a bear hug.
For a minute I couldn’t breathe. I wondered if I was going to pass
out. I thought, oh great, I survive a fight with a tiger just long
enough to be killed by my friend.

Then she let go and walked away like it
didn’t happen. I do not understand girls.

I looked around and saw the battlefield. Dead
and wounded animals and people scattered all over the plain. But no
one was fighting anymore. I asked about this and the man nearest to
me said, “For some, once the trainers were dead or at least
wounded, the animals just went back to being animals. They lost any
desire to attack.”

“What about the tiger?” I asked.

“He’s still around, but no longer
dangerous.”

“But how did Derek just fall off?” I asked.
“I don’t get it. What happened?”

“You mean the guy on the tiger?” he asked. I
nodded.

“Didn’t you see the smoke?” said Han. He was
walking up to me. “The saddle strap just burned away and the saddle
with the boy fell off.” Then I understood. While I was distracting
the tiger, Tracy had used her gift to burn away the saddle
strap.

“But what about Derek?” I said.

“I saw him hit the ground and get up,” said
Han. “He ran toward the empty cages and two eagles flew by. He
reached up his hands and they carried him off.”

“He can do that?” I said. I didn’t have long
to contemplate this, because I heard Brock yell out somewhere in
the field, “Okay men, it’s show time!” He talked into his radio
again, giving more orders.

Show time? I thought we were done here.

Across the field we saw the students coming
out, almost in a kind of “V” formation. It’s strange to say now,
but I was almost excited. Even knowing I might be about to die, I
wanted to see what they could do. Like I said earlier, I’m
curious.

Guido whispered from somewhere to my left,
“It’s the Mixed Arts group.” Then the students all took hands and I
heard a sound like the roar of a raging wind. “Uh oh,” said
Guido.

“We’re in
so
much trouble,” said
Tracy. There was a slight breeze from the ocean at first. It was
playful, like on a nice visit to the beach. But then it grew. Small
rocks started to roll and sand was cast into the air. Then I could
see the gun of the man next to me fly out of his hand and over the
heads of the others. I put both my arms around the nearest tree. I
felt something small hit me and something cold was on my neck. Then
I realized there was snow or ice in the wind. But it must have been
85 degrees out here!

A minute later and all the men were down on
their faces trying to keep from being blown away. I was concerned
for Guido since he was the lightest of us all. “Guido,” I said.
“Where are you?”

But I didn’t have time to get an answer and
he probably wouldn’t have heard me anyway. The ice was freezing
along with the heavy arctic wind. I was shivering and holding on as
tight as I could. I knew I couldn’t hold on too long like this.

I turned to see the students responsible for
this, but they were not affected at all. It was the strangest
thing, but even their hair was not messed up by the wind, as if the
wind had no affect on them.

Finally, the wind died down and we all
breathed heavily.

We stood up, not sure what would happen next.
The kids who had been holding hands collapsed, tired out by the
effort of creating the blizzard. Behind them something else was
stirring.

More fog had arisen now, hiding the sun, and
it was hard to see anything distant. There appeared faint outlines
of a group of men coming toward us. I figured it must be an army,
but as they got nearer something didn’t look right. Finally, I
noticed, they were not adults at all, they were more kids. These
were the kids we had trained with. They were the Focused Arts
kids.

Before I even had time to contemplate this I
heard one voice above everything. They were near enough that we
could see them and no one fired on them because they were just kids
and were not even armed.

Abe stepped out of the evening fog, and I
felt a warm comforting feeling. “Welcome everyone!” he said. It was
strange, because I really did feel welcome. “Why do you come to
fight us? What was it we have ever done that would bring you here
with weapons?” I looked around and saw the blood and I felt
ashamed.

Abe looked with eyes of tenderness, “You are
all friends, not enemies. Why should we fight further? It was not a
battle you could win anyway. The powers that lay in this school far
outweigh anything your military could bring to bear.” I knew what
he was saying was true.

Then as he saw me, he said, “I see you even
have some with you who have been among us. You can ask them, they
did not suffer at our hands. Indeed, we gave them our own food and
trained them with the best instruction. We treated them like
family. Why should we fight now?”

Why were we fighting now? Abe was the one
leader who always made sense. He was right. Abe continued, “Put
down your weapons and come with me. Let’s go inside and rest. Let’s
eat and talk. Then we can see how we might work together against
any misunderstanding.”

Our men put down their weapons, for what else
could they do? I looked at Brock and he looked at me and I could
see he had given up the fight. He believed Abe too. Who wouldn’t?
Abe was the wisest of us.

Abe led the way and all of us, soldiers,
kids, and even a few animals, followed him to the entrance of their
place. I could feel it heating up again outside as we walked
through the opening passageway, and into the main cafeteria where
we had eaten many times before. Abe said, “There is food here and
rest for everyone. Tend to your wounded and eat.”

We sat down and food was brought to us. It
was good, hot food. Porridge, warm bread, steaming vegetables, all
brought with friendly faces. I had almost forgotten we had missed
lunch and dinner that day.

Some, who were more desperate for rest than
food, lay along the walls of the cafeteria, sleeping or just taking
a rest before coming to eat. Abe watched over us and we all knew
the fighting was over.

More men came in and laid down their guns and
there was a large bin brought out where they could put their
weapons so they would not get lost or get in the way of eating.

It all felt like a big mistake. Why did this
army come? Were we ever mistreated? Was there any reason why we
should have even felt the need to infiltrate this place? Why
couldn’t we just talk things out?

I had eaten and was getting sleepy. A group
of students from the school stood around the perimeter. They were
holding hands. It all seemed so natural somehow. So comfortable. I
didn’t really want to fight sleep, so I closed my eyes.

When I awoke I didn’t even open my eyes at
first. I no longer felt the warmth I had earlier. I no longer felt
the compassion and the peace. Instead I felt a hard coldness from a
stone floor. I opened my eyes and above me was a gray ceiling. That
could not be the cafeteria ceiling. The cafeteria was white and
smooth and high. This ceiling was dark and gray and much lower. I
stared at a damp section of the ceiling. I had seen this place
before. Then I remembered that this was like the cell where Tracy
and Guido were kept.

But that could only mean one thing! I had
been put in their dungeon. I looked around the room. I was not
alone. Brock was with me, nursing his shoulder, some blood staining
his shirt. Maybe twenty men were with us. Some were still sleeping,
and some were just now waking up.

“What happened?” I said.

Brock was sitting against the nearest wall,
“They happened.”

“What?” I said.

“You don’t happen to know the gift that guy
who did all the talking has, do you?” he said.

“Let’s see,” I said. “Something about. . .”
My head was foggy and it was hard to think. “Wait, I have it now,”
I said. “No, wait, I don’t.”

Brock said, “How do people normally act
around that guy?”

“Well, let me think,” I said. “The first time
I saw him I remember thinking how nice he was and what a natural
leader. Everything he said made me feel so comfortable and made so
much sense. He’s just the kind of guy people want to follow.”

“Yes,” said Brock.

“Wait a minute, Brock,” I said. “I remember
now, his gift is kind of like mine. Guido was the first of us to
recognize it.”

“Messes with your head,” said Guido from next
to me. He touched my shoulder and I could locate him now. “I can’t
believe even
I
fell for it.”

“Yeah, I thought so,” said Brock.

But why did we fall asleep?” I asked.

“Mixed Arts,” said Guido.

“What’s Mixed Arts,” said Brock.

“But how could they. . .” I said.

Guido broke in, “Remember how Mixed Arts kids
can pool their gifts together and make it a lot stronger? Notice
how everyone got tired at the same time?”

“That was a gift?” I said.

“Did you notice anyone holding hands?” said
Guido.

“That’s right!” I said. “I did, but didn’t
think anything of it.”

“Kind of weird,” said Brock. “A bunch of kids
holding hands.”

“Yeah,” said Guido, “but that’s how they
increase their power. Skin contact, remember? But why didn’t we
think it was weird at the time?”

“Because Abe was in the room,” I said. “It
all seemed like the most sensible thing in the world. Just like
anything Abe says or does.”

“If we had had time to debrief,” said Brock
“we could have learned some of this from you before we encountered
them.”

“Too late now,” I said.

“Yes,” said Brock, “too late.”

I looked around the room at the other
soldiers. Most of them were just sitting quietly with a few
talking. Some, had given up hope; I could see it on their faces.
But then I saw someone checking the bars in the window, against the
blackness outside. Another guy by his legs was writing something on
a beat up piece of paper by the light of a small bulb overhead. Han
sat in the corner on the opposite wall. I walked over. “Han, I
wanted to talk to you.”

“Andy, you’re awake.”

“I have a question that’s been bugging me.
No, I have two questions. I saw you at the beginning of the fight.
Explosions and gunfire were all over the place. I thought I was
dead at least twice, but you looked totally calm. I don’t get
it?”

“Andy,” he said. “When I was young I used to
be afraid of death. It happens to everyone. I would lay awake at
night thinking about it. Then a couple of years ago a friend of the
family visited us. My dad had known him for a long time and they
talked. I played in my room and my mother was in the kitchen. An
hour later my dad comes into my room and he has tears in his eyes.
Dad never cries, so I wondered what happened. Dad said that he had
just met Jesus. I didn’t know what that meant, so Dad explained it
to me. That night my whole family believed in Jesus to save us from
our sins. One thing I noticed after that, I was never afraid of
death again.”

I didn’t know how to think about this. I went
to a Christian school, but I never had anything happen to me like
what he was talking about.

“Is that something you want too?” asked
Han.

“I. . .I don’t know,” I said. “I’ll think
about it.” I got up and walked back to where Brock and Tracy were
sitting on the floor. I sat down.

Everyone was pretty quiet. It gave me time to
think. Some of the most religious people at our school didn’t look
all that happy. And some of them were not even nice to my friends.
I didn’t want to be unhappy and mean. I didn’t want to be like
them.

But then I thought of the janitor who had a
hard, dirty job but he sang worship songs and always seemed happy.
And Mrs. Jensen was really nice and she was really involved in her
church.

I remembered my other question. Going back to
the corner I said, “Han, I forgot to ask you my other
question.”

“Okay.”

“I saw one of your paper planes smashing one
of those spider robots. How could paper do that?”

He looked up and smiled, “Magic.”

“No, really,” I said.

“It’s just a part of my gift. Paper tears
easily because it is thin. Imagine if the paper could hit something
perfectly straight on. It would be as thick as a block of wood. In
your case, I used that plane like a hammer.”

“So, could you break us out of here?” I
asked.

“Not that way. Anyway, I’m out of paper.”