Super Freak (3 page)

The teacher, Ms. Widdershins, glanced at my schedule and slid a monocle over her eye. Her yellow iris was magnified and huge in the glass, as she looked me over. “Hello. And might I ask what category I should place you in?”

My stomach dropped near my feet, and I glanced at the curious faces watching me. To make matters worse, the bell rang and the classroom descended into silence. My fingers twisted into the dangling straps on my book bag. “I’m normal.”

Ms. Widdershins clapped her hands. “Oh, how lovely! I haven’t had a Void in ages.”

“A Void?” Even with Dad’s constant stream of information, I didn’t remember that one.

“Someone who can absorb and make all magic disappear. A very handy talent.”

I shook my head. “Not a Void. Normal.” She still didn’t get it.

She moved around her desk, a frown creasing her forehead. “You mean, you have no gift? Nothing at all?”

Snickers started in the classroom. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, and I focused on keeping my nerves from showing. “I’ve been tested by everyone, Ms. Widdershins. There’s no magic.”

Her mouth dropped open and I glared, daring her to challenge me further. Of course, later, she’d probably test me herself. Then she’d either make me her pet project or avoid me like the plague. I hoped she wasn’t the “best friend” type. For now, she picked up her jaw and pointed to a desk in the back, near Diana. Thank God for that.

I half listened through class, doodling in my notebook between notes about the ethical treatment of supernaturals in the past and the reversal of fortunes now that everyone was supernatural in some way. Now the issues were about whether those with more power should be in control over those who possessed only minor talents. It was weird to think I was more normal than ninety nine percent of humans. The teachers and other students never understood why it didn’t bother me more. But if I had powers like my parents, I’d spend all my time learning spells, etiquette, and even more of this ethics stuff. Some of it I still had to take, but now I could learn more than just the basics supernatural curriculum and take things like art, music, and science. Supernaturals, the really gifted ones, didn’t place much value on those anymore. Why care about a fantastic painting when you could mutter a spell and make one yourself?

I thought I had a much better deal. After all, no one ever died by watercolor.

“Hey, loser,” Kevin, one of the twins from the bus, hissed next to me, “You really haven’t got any powers?”

I ignored him. He started to lean in my direction, fangs hanging out.

“Just because I have no magic, doesn’t mean I can’t kick your butt,” I said.

He stopped, uncertainty flitted across his face. The key to a good bluff is keeping a straight face and looking them in the eye. Kevin didn’t like it, but he turned away, his lip curled.

“Just wait, Caroline. If we don’t get you, that house will.”

“Would you two like to share with the class?” Ms. Widdershins asked, slapping her wand against her open palm. She had what my mom called a “generous figure.”

Kevin snickered. “She lives in Harridan House. I was telling her it was cursed.”

The color drained from the teacher’s face, and her eyebrows rose to her hairline. “Really, I think that’s a bit unnecessary. The Harridan House curse is merely a rumor, and I don’t like supporting such idle talk.” Ms. Widdershins flapped a hand. “Don’t worry about it, my dear. The Harridan House curse is a tale for another class. Perhaps the one where we discuss slander and prejudice.”

Her pointed remark was directed at Kevin, who frowned and turned his attention to his notebook. I had not made a friend in him. The teacher continued, lost for a moment as she turned back to the board, her wand waving in the air and directing the chalk in the swooping patterns of her diagrams and handwriting. Talk about a waste of magic.

I sat back with a sigh. She’d waved a mystery under my nose like a bag of O negative in front of Dracula. Not fair. I loved puzzles, loved figuring out the reasons why something worked or didn’t. It’s why Dad always let me help with his research, especially when pieces were missing or didn’t make sense. Most of the time I could figure it out, or at least have a large part in discovering the answer. I had a knack for it. The two of us often joked that this was my “gift.”

People around me started to pack up their bags, and I stared at the clock. Only a few minutes left. Ms. Widdershins may have dismissed the curse, but she believed in it. Her pale face revealed that. My thoughts turned to Dad’s boxes of research. He’d been carrying around three boxes of weather and age stained papers as long as I could remember. Once I’d asked to help him. It was the only time he’d said no. Forbidden it, actually.

I was a kid. The moment he forbade it was the moment I plotted an elaborate plan to get into them when he wasn’t looking. And I had. At the time, a couple years ago, it hadn’t meant anything. But I hadn’t been able to piece together what it was. There had been mention of a curse, but nothing I remembered seemed to match this.

After shoving papers in my bag, I unfolded my class schedule and checked the room number. Life Science was next; a subject I liked. Diana clapped a hand on my shoulder and pointed down the hall.

“You’re down there on the left. Mr. Darcy is a great teacher.” She winked and pushed me down there. “We’ve got lunch at the same time, so I’ll see you then.”

She bounced down the hall, leaving me to push through the crowds. Kevin took the opportunity to appear at one elbow, his brother at my other. Leo watched others in the hallway, his eyes flicking nervously to his brother.

“You need to be careful who you mess with,” Kevin told me. “We are important people, you know.”

“Kevin, I’ve been bullied by scarier people than you. Pick on someone who cares.” I didn’t think my statement would help, but I hoped he’d get the message.

He didn’t.

“You are nothing! I’m from a powerful line. My family helped to build this town.”

Leo finally spoke up. His tone was much friendlier and concerned. “That house has never brought anything good. You need to be careful.”

Chills tumbled down my spine as the boys released me when I reached the science room. Mr. Darcy stood, tall and blond, and looking like a heartthrob for the pocket protector brigade at the door. He watched, squinting as the boys scurried down the hall.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah. They were just introducing themselves,” I told him. He frowned, but he didn’t ask any more questions.

I moved past him and inside. The chill didn’t leave, and I wondered what would make an entire town afraid. Secrets like that didn’t come from nowhere. And they didn’t stay hidden for long.

Mr. Darcy really was a great teacher, and it had nothing to do with his looks. His lab was full of aquariums. Fish, rabbits, piskies, and a ferret named Wilbur were just a few of the creatures in his lab. Life Science was another class I enjoyed. I liked learning about things that weren’t magical. Sure, we talked about things like the piskies and pookas, but we learned real things too. Anatomy and how plants grew.

At the front of the room, he had a huge round hydroponics system whirring in the corner that fascinated me. I stopped at the side of the setup on my way to my desk and leaned down to poke at a lettuce leaf.

Mr. Darcy appeared over my shoulder. “We’ll be using this all year. It’s a fantastic system. We should be able to help provide salad greens for the cafeteria for a few weeks. Are you interested in gardening, Caroline?”

I nodded, but he didn’t give me half a chance to say anything.

“Of course you are, with your parents being dryads and all. You probably get bored with all this.”

I shook my head. “I’ve got no supernatural talents, Mr. Darcy. I like gardening–no magic involved.”

His brow rose. “I’d heard a rumor, but I assumed it wasn’t true.”

People around me were starting to whisper as I talked to him. The boys were making jokes. The girls looked jealous. “It is.”

He smiled, and a girl behind me sighed. “You’ll get along fine then. I myself have only a minor ability to predict rain and make some charms. Not much at all. Magic isn’t everything.”

I smiled and took my seat as the bell rang. One of the boys next to me mumbled something about having a brown nose. A tingle started at the end of my nose, and I jerked a mirror from my bag.

Yup. Brown smudges marred my nose. I glared at him, and prayed they’d fade before too long. Otherwise I’d have to visit the nurse and get the charm removed before next period.

“How was school?” Mom asked, her hands buried in fresh dirt at the base of the birch they talked to earlier. Red flowers wilted in plastic pots next to her. She was so predictable. Even though there were still tons of things to be fixed inside, my family was a nature-loving bunch, and Mom really couldn’t stand the old tree’s attitude problem. “Fine, I guess,” I said. I rubbed my nose absently, the nurse’s charm still tickling. “I met a girl named Diana who seems really great.”

Mom beamed. She always worried about whether or not I had friends. Telling her about Diana would keep her from nagging me as much. “I’m so glad, honey. I know you weren’t thrilled about the move, but this is the last time.”

I smiled. “Yeah, well, I hope so.”

Mom hollowed out a hole in the ground and planted a flower. “It will be. You’ll see.”

Scuffing a foot in the dirt, I looked up into the branches above us. “Make any headway with the tree?”

Mom shook her head, a hint of a frown on her lips. “No. She won’t talk. At all. Not even to tell us to buzz off.”

That was odd. Mom could usually coax anything to chat eventually. “Wonder why?”

She shrugged, digging her fingers into the dirt again. “I don’t know. I’m hoping planting some flowers will be enough of a peace offering. Maybe she’ll change her mind and have a chat.”

“Maybe so,” I said. Mom wasn’t listening, her attention turned back to the tree again. Being ignored really bugged her. I mumbled something about getting back inside and headed back to the house. Mom just nodded and returned to her gardening, humming a mindless tune.

As I opened the front door, my thoughts turned toward the twins’ comments about the house being cursed. I could see where they got it. Before it had been neglected and old, which made most houses creepy anyway. Now that we’d cleaned, the original character of the house stood out. Wise, laughing faces of imps and gargoyles winked in the carvings of the stairs and doors, and every once in a while a strange symbol appeared in intricate patterns on the tile floors or walls. The previous owners liked dark colors and flowered wall paper a bit too much for my taste, but I still liked it. It was a little like living in a fairytale mansion.

It was comfortable, but to someone who didn’t know any better, I guess it could seem menacing. But a lot of places did that until you got to know them. It wasn’t a good reason to start talking about black magic. Supernaturals and magic might be the norm now, but black magic was still something that no one spoke of lightly. Black magic required blood and sacrifices and death. Dark things and evil and monsters came out of magic like that.

A shiver traveled up my spine, and I shook my head. I wasn’t going to let that jerk make we worry. There was no black magic here. I grasped the gargoyle-head knob perched at the end of the banister and swung around, heading to my room. As my weight pulled on the wooden carving, it broke free in my hand. I stumbled and caught myself just before I toppled over the other side of the stairs. The gargoyle head rolled to the floor. I picked it up, brushing off the purple glass eyes. When I tried to fit the post back into the hole in the railing, it wouldn’t go. No matter how hard I pushed and pounded on it, there was still a gap.

I took a couple steps farther up the stairs and leaned over to peer into the hole. Inside, a piece of yellowed paper had been rolled up. In my efforts to shove the knob back on, I’d crushed part of the top. My heart pounded as I set the piece down on the steps and used two fingers to gingerly slide the note out.

“What are you doing?” Dad asked, appearing in the dining room doorway.

I shoved the note in my pocket, wincing as it crinkled more, and then scooped up the gargoyle head. “This thing came off. I need some superglue or something to get it in there.”

Dad took the piece, his brow furrowed. “I wonder why this one came off.”

I licked my lips. This was
my
find.
My
mystery. Dad had so many he couldn’t keep track of them all. For once, I didn’t want to share. I could do this one on my own. “Because we cleaned. Now everything will fall apart so we can get it fixed.”

“Ah, well, at least this one is easy. I’ve already got wood glue out in the kitchen. I’ll get this, and you can get your homework done.”

“It’s the first week of school, Dad. All my homework is getting you to sign things.” Like he didn’t already know that.

“Well, get out what I need to sign and I’ll take care of it.” He winked and headed for the kitchen, polishing the gargoyle with the corner of his T-shirt.

Relief made my elbows wobbly. I took the stairs two at a time and headed for my room. Only yesterday Mom and I picked out the color for the walls and painted. A pretty lavender. It was the fastest decision we ever made, and I think it had to do with the room.

I dumped my book bag next to the desk and pulled the note from my pocket. Mom didn’t like the room either. She wasn’t as obvious about it as Dad. She came inside, talked to me, but the longer she stayed, the more I could see goose pimples breaking out on her arms. She came up with excuses to go downstairs.

Shrugging the memory of my parents’ discomfort off, I sat down and unrolled the paper carefully, smoothing it out as I went. It crinkled and popped, but didn’t seem to be torn or falling apart anywhere, except for the top inch or so where I ripped it trying to fit in the gargoyle.

Writing swooped and curled across the page in thin, elegant lines. The ink should have faded, but it was still crisp and clear as if it had just been written.