Now You See Me-Gifted 5 (11 page)

She’d probably know what she herself was wearing, though. Jenna’s necklace, a thick silver thing with a dangling pendant of a skull, was one she wore frequently. Moving around the table, Tracey quickly lifted the necklace over Jenna’s head and dropped it in front of her.

Jenna whirled around. But no one could have approached her and got away so quickly. She picked up the necklace and examined the clasp. Then she shrugged and put it back around her neck.

What else could she do, Tracey wondered. Gather up plates and bowls and dump them on Jenna’s table? That would get Jenna’s attention, but it would attract attention from the others in the dining hall too. She was getting desperate – she
had
to talk to Jenna. She had to share this information, she wanted Jenna’s advice and opinion. Jenna would know what Tracey should do. She had to make contact with her. She needed her friend!

Suddenly, Jenna’s eyes widened. ‘Tracey?’ she whispered.

Yes! Yes, it’s me, I’m right across the table from you. How did you know I was here?

Jenna put a hand over her mouth and spoke so softly that Tracey had to lean across the table to hear her.

‘I don’t know, but it happened once before, when Emily was trapped by Serena at school. I guess she was trying so hard to make contact with me that I actually heard her.’

Just like me,
Tracey said with feeling.
I’ve got to talk to you.

‘What’s going on?’ She’d taken her hand away from her mouth, and a couple of kids at the next table glanced at her curiously. Jenna quickly speared a carrot from her plate, stuck it in her mouth and chewed furiously.

Just listen. I’ve learned something.
This wouldn’t be breaking the promise she’d made to Amanda. Because she wasn’t ‘telling’ the secret – she was only thinking it.

Silently, Tracey recalled the story Amanda had told her about Mr Jackson.
She’s telling the truth, Jenna, I’m sure of it. And it all makes sense, when you think about it. The spy is reporting to Mr Jackson. That’s how he found out about our gifts.

‘So it was Jackson who put the knife in my locker?’

I think so.

‘But who’s the spy?’ Jenna asked. ‘Who’s telling Jackson about us?’ Realizing she was talking out loud, she clapped a hand over her mouth but it was too late. People turned to look at her. And one guy, with a bad complexion and a ponytail, sauntered over to her.

‘Talking to yourself, Jenna?’ he asked unpleasantly.

Jenna glared at him. ‘Does that get me another demerit?’

‘No,’ the guy said. ‘Just a report to Doctor Paley.’

Can we go someplace private?
Tracey asked.

Jenna rose, and picked up her tray. Tracey followed her as she left the tray by the bins, and went out of the dining hall.

‘We’re going to my room,’ Jenna murmured as they walked.

But they weren’t going to get any privacy there. A girl was lying on one of the twin beds, and smoking a cigarette.

Jenna spoke. ‘Get out of here with that cigarette or I’ll ram it down your throat.’

The girl smirked. ‘Is that a threat?’

‘No,’ Jenna said. ‘It’s a promise.’

Tracey was impressed. She knew Jenna could act tough, but she’d never heard her sound quite so scary.

The girl got the message. Once she was out of the room, Jenna threw herself on the other twin bed. ‘That threat’s going to get me another demerit. Which will probably mean another day of no visitors.’

Is that why they’ve been telling us you can’t have visitors? Because you’ve got demerits?

Jenna nodded. ‘Only I didn’t earn them.’

Tracey was shocked to hear the story about the assistant who was blackmailing residents.
Can’t you tell someone about him?

‘He’ll only deny it. And how am I going to explain why I know about all the other kids he’s using?’

But this has to stop! He’ll keep making up stories about you, you’ll get more demerits, and, and . . .

Jenna finished the thought for her. ‘And I’ll never get out of here.’

Just as she’d never heard Jenna sound as fierce as she had moments earlier, she’d never heard her sound so flat and resigned. She preferred the fierce Jenna. Maybe now Jenna needed Tracey as a friend even more than Tracey needed Jenna.

That’s not going to happen. I’ll get the proof we need, I’ll get you out of here. I promise, Jenna.

There was a knock on the door, and then it opened. A young woman poked her head in.

‘It’s time for your group session, Jenna.’

Jenna groaned. ‘Can’t I skip it today?’

‘Sure,’ the woman said, ‘if you don’t mind getting another demerit. Oh, and Doctor Paley wants to see you tomorrow.’

‘I just saw him this morning!’ Jenna exclaimed.

The woman shrugged. ‘Well, he wants to see you again tomorrow.’

‘Boy, Peter works fast,’ Jenna murmured.

The woman’s brow furrowed. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Nothing.’ Jenna got up and went to the door. Tracey followed her.

You want me to stick around?

Jenna shook her head. The woman looked at her curiously. ‘Are you all right, Jenna?’

Jenna almost smiled. ‘No. But I will be.’

Yes,
Tracey thought fervently.
Yes, you will, Jenna.

Outside Harmony House, she went to wait at the bus stop. Looking back at the building, she had the same thought she’d had when she arrived.

No, it didn’t look like a prison. But a place didn’t have to look like a prison to be a prison. A prison didn’t even have to be a place. A secret was like a prison – it could keep a person trapped in the same way. Jenna, Tracey, Emily . . . all of Madame’s students were imprisoned by their secret gifts.

Somehow, Tracey was going to get Jenna out of Harmony House. She’d find the real spy, and the spy would lead her to the proof about Mr Jackson and the knife. Jenna would be released, she’d be free. But could any of them ever feel completely, really and truly free, free to do whatever they wanted, free to be themselves?

No one else came to wait at the bus stop, and the bus was approaching. Tracey could only hope that someone was getting off at this stop so she could get on. No, she wasn’t free to do whatever she wanted.

W
HEN TRACEY ARRIVED HOME, she could hear the Devon Seven and her mother in the kitchen.

‘Where’s Tracey, Mommy?’ one of them asked. Tracey was pretty sure it was Brandie. The others chimed in.

‘Where is she?’

‘I want Tracey to play with us!’

‘We can’t find her, Mommy!’

Mrs Devon looked frazzled. ‘She’s – she’s out, girls, she’s busy. Go outside and play, Tracey’s coming home soon.’

As soon as the kitchen was vacant, the woman sank down into a chair. ‘Tracey?’ she called out weakly. ‘Are you in here?’

Her mother looked really upset.

‘Tracey . . . I’m sure you’re fine, you’re just being invisible, but . . . I’m worried! What if you’re hurt? Maybe you’ve run away from home . . .’ She gasped as another thought must have occurred to her. ‘Maybe you’ve been kidnapped! Oh Tracey, sweetheart, if you’re here . . . I know I wouldn’t be able to hear you if you speak, and I know you can’t write me a message, but . . . could you just give me a sign, so I know you’re all right? You’re not usually invisible for this long.’

Once again, Tracey marvelled at the irony of it all. Not so long ago she could have disappeared for a lot longer than a couple of days and her mother wouldn’t have even noticed. Now she was worried . . . Tracey wasn’t sure which feeling was stronger, her pity for her mother or her satisfaction at the change in family relationships.

It was the pity that made her go back into the living room, pick up her mother’s handbag from the coffee table, and bring it into the kitchen. When the bag appeared in front of her mother, Tracey was rewarded with a sigh and smile of gratitude.

‘Thank you, dear,’ her mother said humbly. Tracey left and went up to her room. She had some thinking to do before she made her next move to fulfil her promise to Jenna.

OK, so Jackson was the major bad guy at Meadowbrook, the numero uno villain. But how was he getting his information about the gifted students? Someone was telling him what went on in class.

Tracey refused to even consider the notion that Madame would betray her students. The teacher was beyond any suspicion, and she was sure her classmates would agree with her. So it had to be one of them. From what she knew, and what she’d observed, she could eliminate herself, Jenna, Emily, Amanda, Sarah, Ken, Martin and Charles. Which only left Carter.

But how could Carter be a spy? The boy didn’t speak, he didn’t write, he couldn’t communicate at all. He was practically a zombie.

She searched her memory for what she knew about him. Supposedly, he was found wandering on Carter Street. He carried no identification and the police had no reports of any missing boy who fitted his description. Social Services had taken over his care and he’d been placed in a foster home. That was all she knew.

From her desk drawer, she retrieved the Meadowbrook Middle School Directory, and looked up his name. The foster family was called Granger, and they lived not too far from her own home.

The address turned out to be a medium-sized, very ordinary looking cottage-style house on a tree-lined street. The sun was setting and the lights were on inside. She waited on the front steps for a while, but no one came in or out. Fortunately, the curtains weren’t drawn, so she walked around the house and peeked in at each window.

She found Carter in what was clearly the dining room of the house. He was sitting at a table with two other young boys, a man and a woman. She assumed the adults were the Grangers. The two younger boys didn’t look at all alike, nor did they look like the adults, so she thought they might be foster children too.

The Grangers certainly fed their foster kids well. The table was laden with food – roast beef, bowls of vegetables, a big tossed salad. She couldn’t hear any conversation, but she could see lips moving as the family talked. It seemed to her that they were having a lively conversation. Of course, Carter wasn’t participating in it. He ate, slowly and rhythmically, but he stared straight ahead, not making eye contact with anyone else at the table. It was the same way he behaved at school. She saw the woman bend over and speak to him, but Carter didn’t respond.

It dawned on her that she was hungry. Eating while invisible wasn’t easy. Even if she could get herself inside the house without anyone noticing a door opening, she couldn’t very well join them for their meal. There were too many people at the table and someone was bound to notice if food started to disappear.

So she stood there, suffering hunger pangs, and waited for the meal to end. Only, what did she expect to happen after that? The boys would probably watch a little television and go to bed. There wouldn’t be much to see through the windows. She had to find a way to get inside the house and into Carter’s room. Maybe there she’d find something interesting about Carter, some clue as to whether or not Carter had a secret life as a spy.

Fortunately, when dinner was over and the table was being cleared, she observed the woman saying something to Carter again. He got up and left the dining room. Skipping over to the next window, Tracey could see him scraping leftovers from the plates into the trash bin in the kitchen. Then he took out the garbage-packed liner and went to the back door.

Tracey hurried to position herself by the back door and as soon as Carter opened it she slipped inside. While Carter took the garbage to the outdoor bin, she did a quick survey of the kitchen. A platter of leftover roast beef slices hadn’t been put away yet.

A benefit of being invisible meant she didn’t have to think about manners. She snatched up a slice of meat and practically crammed the whole piece in her mouth. Then she took a second slice. Mrs Granger came in and picked up the platter. Looking at the remains of the meat, her brow furrowed for a minute, as if she’d realized there was less there than she thought there should be. Finally, she shrugged and wrapped the slices.

Carter returned.

‘Could you help me load the dishwasher, Carter?’ the woman asked.

Carter didn’t say yes or no, but he opened the door of the dishwasher and began loading items. He was just like he was at school, obeying without communicating.

Tracey left the kitchen and went down a hall which she presumed would lead to bedrooms. One bedroom held a big double bed, and she assumed that was the master bedroom. Another bedroom had bunk beds and toys strewn on the floor.

She decided that the third bedroom must be Carter’s. It held one single bed, a desk, a bureau and a bookshelf. Everything was impeccably neat and tidy.

With no one else in there, she had the freedom to open drawers. All she found there were clothes. Desk drawers contained pencils, a ruler, ordinary school stuff. She couldn’t find any notes or letters.

Next, she checked the books on the shelves. She tried to remember if she’d ever seen Carter reading, but no image came to mind. Actually, the books all looked pretty new and untouched. She opened a few in the half-hearted hope she might find a note tucked inside, but she had no luck.

It was frustrating. There had to be something in this room but she couldn’t tear it apart and make a mess. She’d have to wait until Carter came in and hope he would reveal something to her. To pass the time, she took one of the books from the shelf, a biography of Helen Keller. Maybe the Grangers had given it to him in the hope that he might find something in common with a person who overcame disabilities. She sat at Carter’s desk, and started to read.

Once she sat down, she realized how exhausted she was. It had been a long day. The life of Helen Keller was intriguing but Tracey was too tired to get caught up in it. She put her head on the desk and closed her eyes.

It was amazing how easily she fell asleep in such an uncomfortable position. When she opened her eyes the room was completely dark. Rising from the chair, she saw Carter in bed, sound asleep.