The Wayward Gifted - Broken Point (17 page)

* * *

People say that children often learn
things more quickly than adults. Perhaps that’s because it’s okay to embrace
magical thinking when we’re small. As children, we’re encouraged to believe in
things unseen. Fairies, giant bunnies, elves and other magical creatures are
known to visit, leaving gifts and trinkets as we sleep.

As children, our minds are open to
what if
and
why not.
We believe the idea that anything is possible. Perhaps
this is because we live in a time when new discoveries occur daily in our lives,
proving that anything can happen and quite often will. We are young enough to
realize that we do not know what we do not know. We are bright enough to
realize that it might be foolish to say something does not exist strictly
because we’ve never seen it. As children, we know better. For whatever reason,
children tend to accept things sooner than adults. And then, sadly, as we grow,
our fears grow also. With each year, our ability to believe in things unseen
becomes more fragile and fades much too soon. Eventually, we are fully-grown.

As the younger sibling, Steuart was
immediately comfortable with his new knowledge of the Wayward Gifted. Sam,
however, was not only skeptical, but also frightened. She came around more
slowly. Her mother’s comments,
my children
are broken
and
they need to be
repaired,
played repeatedly in her head.

The fact that Sam knew nothing about
her biological family added to her troubled feelings. She wondered if something
terrible could be wrong with her and with her brother. She wondered if the two
of them had snapped. Did they need medication? Were they b-r-o-k-e-n? If so,
what exactly did that mean? Were their actions indicative of a bizarre,
childhood
folie a deux?

Eventually, Sam came out from under the
covers. She found Steuart, Trista and Ed conversing in Steuart’s room. For a
moment, she stood silently watching the group before turning around. She walked
into the bathroom, turned on the faucet and splashed cold water across her
face. She returned to Steuart’s room where nothing had changed. Steuart and the
dolls sat quietly talking.

Again, Sam turned around. She walked to
her room and picked up the chocolate bar, returned to Steuart’s room and seated
herself at the far edge of his bed. “I’m ready to talk. I brought chocolate.”

“I knew I liked her,” Ed smiled and
held out his hand.

Olivia’s voice came from the end of the
hall. “Are the two of you still awake? Don’t make me come in there.”

At that, Steuart, Ed, Trista and Sam
decided it was time to stop for the night. Ed stayed with Steuart. Trista
accompanied Sam to her room where the two got under the covers. Neither girl said
a word. Sam smiled at Trista and Trista smiled back. No longer afraid, the girls
slept.

TEN

Olivia
woke Sam and Steuart early the following morning.
“What in the world were the two of you
doing last night?”

Sam, half-awake, remembered the
excitement.
Did it happen? Did the dolls
come to life? Was it just a strange, wonderful dream?

Her mother’s voice brought Sam back to
the moment. “You are not allowed to keep me awake like that. I’ll be a zombie
all day because I didn’t get a fraction of my required sleep. And now, I’m
running late. There will be consequences.”

Nanny Claire arrived as Olivia left for
work. Sam listened as the garage door closed.

Steuart walked into his sister’s room,
“Can you believe it?”

“No, I thought it was a dream.”

Steuart shook his head, “That wasn’t a
dream. That was definitely not a dream.”

Sam brushed her teeth and combed her
hair. “I have to think about my history test.”

Nanny Claire shouted from the kitchen, “You’ll
miss your bus if you don’t get moving,”

Sam put her comb away and looked at her
brother, “We’ll figure these things out when we get home.”

* * *

Steuart and Sam did not care for Nanny
Claire. The feeling appeared to be mutual. The woman was happy to see the
children leave for school and less than thrilled upon their afternoon arrival
home. Claire preferred reading mysteries in privacy and quiet. “I dislike
interruptions,” she’d say, “Your mother tells me that you’re accustomed to
amusing yourselves. That’s a good thing.” The upside to Claire’s disinterest
was how easy it became for Sam and Steuart to get out of the house. After a
snack, with the dolls in their backpacks, Sam and Steuart asked permission to
go out to play.

Hiking to the tree house, Steuart asked
his sister, “Do you think she was always so large, or do you think it’s because
she’s an Éclair?”

Sam giggled. “That’s not a nice thing
to say. Maybe she can’t help it.”

“It’s a perfect anagram. Maybe I’d feel
differently if she were nice.”

“Maybe. You’re probably right. Let’s
keep her around—she doesn’t care what we do.”

After climbing to the top of the tree
house, Steuart and Sam carefully pulled the dolls from their backpacks and
seated them on the floor. They readied for a frank and sincere discussion.

“Hi,” Steuart said. “We’re sorry that
we couldn’t spend the day with you, but we had to go to school.”

The dolls said nothing.

“Don’t be angry,” Sam said. “We didn’t
have a choice.”

The dolls didn’t move.

“Why aren’t they talking?” Steuart
looked at Sam.

“I don’t know.”

Steuart tapped Ed on the shoulder, “Hey,
Ed, it’s okay, you can talk now.”

Ed did nothing.

“Was it a dream?” Sam asked.

“How can two people be in the same
dream?” Steuart shook his head. “I don’t think that’s possible?”

“How can dolls talk? Is that possible?”
Sam turned to Trista, “Hi Trista. How are you today?” Trista did nothing. Sam
turned and looked at her brother, “This is not good.”

“They were alive last night. I know
they were.”

“They’re just dolls. They’re not alive.
It was some wild, absurd, unbelievable, strange, dream.”

“Is that what you think?”

“Yes,” Sam nodded, “I do. Maybe it was something
we ate.”

“We didn’t eat the same things.”
Steuart spoke to the dolls again. “Hello. Ed, Trista, come on guys, let’s
talk.”

Sam shook her head. “I don’t know what
happened, but something caused you and me to have the same dream.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“I’ve heard this sort of thing
happening when people eat rabbit.”

“We’ve never eaten rabbit.”

“I’d rather think that we’re having
terrible dreams than think that we’ve lost our minds.”

“We’re not nuts.”

“Mother says that we’re broken.”

“Mother says a lot of things.”

“Maybe she’s right. Maybe she sees something
we’re missing. Maybe we are mad.” Sam stared at the dolls.

“We don’t act like we’re crazy.”

“What do you think this is? We both think
that we had a conversation last night with two inanimate objects.”

Sam and Steuart sat in silence looking
at one another.

Steuart frowned. “Do you believe we’re
broken? Is that what you think? Are you listening to Mother now?”

“We’re seeing a shrink. That’s not a
good sign.”

“We’re seeing a shrink because Mother
has this obsessive thing about perfection. It’s not us.”

“I don’t know.”

 
Steuart sighed. “
Raw Eye Czar
.”

“What?”

“Are we crazy?”

“Could be,” Sam frowned.

 
“No,” Steuart shook his head, “
Tone
Wary
Car Zone.”

“I don’t know that. How do two kids figure
out what it means to be crazy? What’s crazy? It’s like asking what it means to
be creative.”

Steuart tried talking to the dolls
again. They didn’t move. He looked at his sister and frowned. “I don’t know. I
think it’s something else.”

Sam nodded. “We should talk with Dr.
Klesel.”

“Maybe.” Steuart looked away, “You’re
probably right. I didn’t eat my lunch today. I feel hungry and confused. Do you
have anything?”

“Help yourself,” Sam reached into her
backpack for the remainder of last night’s candy bar. She handed it to Steuart.
“You can have it.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t want it. I’m not hungry.”

Steuart unwrapped the bar. “Chocolate
makes everything better.”

“Finally...” Ed jumped up and laughed.
“They’re speaking our language!” He looked at Steuart, “Can we have a bite
too?”

“What?” The children were shocked.

“Practical joke! Ha! Ha! Good one, huh?
How’d you like it?”

Trista stood, looked at Sam, and shook
her head. “It was his idea—not mine. He’s in charge. I didn’t think it
was funny. Seriously, I tried to talk him out of it.”

“What’s going on?” Steuart asked. “Why
would you do that?”

Sam looked at Ed. “You’re not funny.”

“That was mean,” Steuart said.

Ed continued laughing, “Get over yourselves.
It was just a little joke, that’s all. Why is everyone always so serious around
here?”

Sam looked at Ed, “That wasn’t nice. You
should be ashamed of yourself for scaring us like that.”

“Come on kid,” Ed pointed to Steuart.
“Look at your size. Now look at me. Look at Trista. Who do you think should be
afraid here?”

“We’re not afraid. That’s not the
point. We don’t like being teased.” Sam looked at Steuart, “I don’t believe
this.”

“Oh, for God’s sake. Get over it
already.” Ed continued laughing.

“You shouldn’t play jokes on friends,”
Steuart said. “It’s a terrible way to behave.”

“Oh, come on,” Ed chuckled, “We have to
get our thrills where we can find them. Now, please, share some chocolate.”

“You think I should share with you?”
Steuart asked. “Why?”

“Because you’re a nice person.” Ed
smiled, “Look at the bright side—you’re not nuts. Would you rather we
become quiet again?”

“I’ll share the chocolate,” Sam said,
“but if we’re going to be friends you’re not allowed to do that again. Also, we
need answers.”

Steuart nodded, “She’s right. Where did
you come from? Are you space aliens? Are you from another planet? Does Dr.
Klesel know?”

“Okay,” Ed began. He took a deep breath
and exhaled slowly. “No more dead doll games.”

“Where did you come from?” Steuart persisted.

Ed took a piece of chocolate, bit down,
chewed, and swallowed. “I love chocolate. We don’t have it at home.”

“Where did you come from?” Steuart
asked again.

“I’m not sure how to describe us.” Ed
reached for the chocolate bar.

“Just tell us,” Steuart said, handing
Ed another bite of chocolate.

“We are—from another place.”

Steuart rolled his eyes. “Oh, that’s
great. Why not tell us something obvious.”

“Where?” Sam asked.

“In some ways it’s a lot closer than
you think.”

“Does Dr. Klesel know who you are?”

“I’m not allowed to answer that
question.”

“You’re being vague,” Steuart argued.
“I’d appreciate answers.”

Sam stared at her brother, “Steuart,
we’re talking with dolls.”

“Yeah, we are, and they’re talking with
us too. We’re not crazy.”

Steuart turned from Sam to Ed, “Are you
dangerous aliens?”

“No.”

“What can you tell us?” Sam asked.

Ed reached for the chocolate bar, “Just
a small bite this time.”

Steuart broke off a small chunk of
chocolate and handed it to Ed, who bit and chewed as he spoke. “Look here’s the
thing. We can travel from where we live to where you are. We use dolls as
placeholders. Yes, we’re aliens, but not in your traditional, dangerous, weird,
we’re going to cook you and eat your for
dinner
, fictional sense. If we wanted to hurt you, we could have done that
days ago.”

Sam gasped.

“It’s okay,” Trista said. “We’re
harmless.”

Ed looked at Sam, “Don’t worry. We
haven’t hurt you. You can stop being afraid.”

“What about Dr. Klesel?” Sam asked.