Trouble's Brewing (Stirring Up Trouble) (26 page)

Carly waved the folders she held to motion for me to sit in one of the empty chairs at the large table. After I sat, she spoke, “Normally we have a significant amount of overlap, and the new arrivals can be paired with a volunteer who has been here longer. We’ve found this technique invaluable in helping you adjust. Since it’s the holidays, we are short on help.” She glanced down at the top folder and handed it to the guy with the claw. Then she handed each of us a folder with our name on it. “Go ahead and open them. Each of you will be working with one room of children, and I’ve given you a brief description of each child and their particular needs. Try to learn their names by morning. You’ll eat here at six a.m. and then report to the assigned room by seven.

“For those of you who are working off selfish magic, I have included an estimate about when you can expect to physically return to normal.”

I turned to the page with my estimate. I couldn’t read the small print. Sighing with frustration, I closed the folder. 

“You may select anything you like for dinner,” Carly said. “Then you may choose to spend the evening however you like.” She smiled. “Once you finish familiarizing yourself with the children’s profiles.” Then she left.

The guy with the claw scowled at the other girls. “What’s up with you guys? Why are you even here? Are you actually here voluntarily?” 

The blonde girl sneered back. “They need some of their help to be fully functional. How much help can you really be with those crawdad hands?”

“Lobster hands,” he mumbled back.

The girl turned her attention to me. “Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to be rude to you. Just him.”

“I’m starving,” Alligator Boy said. He stood, revealed that his tail was supported by a small cart with wheels. “I’m getting food.”

The skinny girl with frizzy, curly hair stayed behind when the rest of them went to eat.

“Do you want me to read that for you?” she asked.

I didn’t, but I had no choice. “I’m Z—Chloe,” I said.

“Frannie,” she said.

I handed her my folder.

“You should be back to normal by Wednesday.”

Wednesday. I had been afraid I’d have to wait much longer.

Frannie read the description of each of the kids. I had some serious work ahead of me. “I can come to your room after we eat if you want,” she offered. “I can read it again, and you can copy it down in a size you can see.”

“Thank you,” I said. “You are a lifesaver.”

Alligator Boy returned with his food and sat down. 

“You ready?” Frannie asked, motioning with her head to the food line.

“I guess.” I stood and walked out to wait for her before going up for dinner. 

When Frannie reached my side, I did a double take. She was way shorter than me. It was then that I saw her legs. Chimpanzee legs reached from the bottom of her dress to the floor. She didn’t have shoes on her primate feet.

I smiled at her.

She looked uncertain. “Ridiculous, I know,” she said.

“No,” I told her. “I’m just glad I’m not the only ‘bad’ girl here.”

A grin spread over her face.

“What was your estimate?” I asked.

“Friday,” she said.

I wondered what she had done, but I didn’t ask. Instead I headed toward the trays and silverware as Frannie ambled along behind me.

Frannie worked with me until I’d learned the information about each child. It wasn’t until she left to go to her own room that the melancholy set in. I was bored, lonely, and restless all at once. I couldn’t stop thinking about the Council deciding the fate of my powers. I couldn’t sleep. Watching television was impossible with my vision issues. I tried reading, but even with the text so large that only one word fit on each page, I couldn’t manage.

Jake was probably mad that our Christmas celebration was cut short, and now he’d be completely baffled by my sudden “visit” with my grandparents. My efforts hadn’t done my mother any good, and I’d disappointed Finn. Then there was the mess with Anya. 

I cried for hours. Crying didn’t provide the usual comfort because, for some reason, my bug eyes didn’t make any tears. Exhaustion and sorrow overwhelmed me, and I finally slept.

Frannie stood just inside the cafeteria when I walked in the next morning.

“I am so glad to see you,” I said.

She grinned. “I’m eating pancakes today,” she said. “I never allow myself to.”

“Good idea.” I took her lead and loaded my tray with every breakfast food I could possibly want.

We sat at the same table, off to the side, but none of the others showed up.

“There’s Alligator Boy,” I said as he got a tray and got in line.

Frannie laughed at first, but then she gave me a questioning look. “Please tell me you don’t call me Monkey Girl.”

In horror, I said, “No! Never. You’re awesome. I call you Frannie.”

She relaxed and we ate until he joined us.

“Hi,” I said. “I’m Chloe and this is Frannie.”

He sat down. “Nice to meet you.”

“What’s your name?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I am not using the name they gave me. Forget it.”

“Jeez,” Frannie said. “How bad can it be?”

He didn’t respond.

“If it’s what you really want, we’ll keep calling you Alligator Boy.”

I gasped. She did not just say that.

Alligator Boy smiled. “Fine by me.”

“Are you serious?” Frannie asked.

He nodded. “I think it has a nice ring to it.”

Frannie and I exchanged looks. This guy was a nut.

When I reported to my assigned room, I made sure to plaster a smile on my face. The five kids in the room ranged from an eight-year-old girl with dragon feet that were too heavy for her to lift to a fifteen-year-old boy with giant bat wings who slept in a modified bed to accommodate the clumsy appendages. The folder indicated that he hated being fed, but he didn’t have a choice. Johnny’s profile included a special note from Carly asking me to work very hard to convince him because they were low on nurses right now. I’d never fed another person.

“Good morning!” I hoped my voice sounded confident and cheerful. “My name is Chloe and I’m going to be hanging out with you guys for a while.”

The younger ones called out greetings, but Johnny refused to look at me.

How was I going to feed him breakfast if I couldn’t even get him to make eye contact?

“Will you read us a story after we eat?” Hannah with the dragon feet asked. “Please.”

My imminent failure as a volunteer became clear. “I, um…” I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t disappoint the girl.

I raised my head so I wasn’t seeing any of the kids. As I struggled for composure, I became aware of another set of eyes looking at me.

When I glanced over, Johnny was staring.

“She can’t see enough to read because she has those wiggy eyes,” he told Hannah.

“Oh,” Hannah said.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I really am.”

The girl actually started crying.

“Maybe you could read to us,” I suggested, desperate to stop her tears.

“She likes to be read to,” Johnny said. Then he let out a loud sigh. “Don’t cry, Hannah. I can read to you if Chloe turns the pages for me.”

Hannah brightened.

“Perfect!” I said. “After everybody eats.”

I watched for his answer. We both knew what I was asking of him.

With a slight nod, he agreed.

He was going to let me feed him! I wasn’t such a failure after all.

My Christmas morning started with a breakfast of Belgian waffles in the cafeteria. Then I got to make five waffles for the kids I’d been working with. I had one chocolate lover’s delight, one with extra whipped cream and red and green sprinkles, one with caramel and M&M’s, a fresh strawberries and cream, and a banana split version with one scoop of vanilla ice cream. I carried the double-stacked trays to the elevator and up to the fourth floor. I’d gotten good at navigating the maze of hospital rooms, especially after my bug eyes turned human late Tuesday afternoon.  None of them had been out of bed without help since I’d arrived. I passed out their special breakfasts and then went to sit by Johnny, the bat winged kid, in order to feed him his.

The door to the room was propped open so I burst in with my trays and said, “Merry Christmas!”

“Chloe!”

“Yay!”

After they ate, I’d have thirty minutes to talk to my mother and grandmother on the phone. Other than being lonely at night, I wasn’t too miserable here. I hadn’t heard about the Council’s decision yet, but I figured not knowing was probably part of my punishment. I had thrown myself into my work in order to keep away the thoughts of six years without powers.

Six days later, Mom picked me up at eight a.m. I had packed easily and donned my own clothes, the same ones I’d worn when I arrived, for the first time in ten days. I hadn’t been able to sleep last night, so I’d volunteered to sit with Henry. He was miserable because his twin had left yesterday, and he still had horse hooves for feet and hands. He’d come a long way though, and the doctors thought he’d be able to leave in a couple of days.

“Mommy!” I yelled throwing myself in her arms.

“I missed you too! Was it that bad? You’re so traumatized that I’m Mommy again.”

“It wasn’t terrible, but I missed you!”

“I’m so glad you’re finally coming home. And I have some good news. You impressed the Council with your work here. They want you to come back and work Spring Break, but they aren’t taking your powers.”

I screeched with happiness.

“Hospital, Zoe. Quiet zone. Get in the car and we’ll get on the road.”

“I’m so glad to hear my real name again! I’ve been Chloe forever.”

“Tell me everything,” Mom said.

We arrived in Knoxville before we finished catching up on everything. Three hours of solid talking.

“I need a shower, and a nap,” I said when we got home.

“Get some rest. I hear Jake has big plans for you tonight!”

Chapter Seventeen

My shower, my shampoo, my yummy-smelling soap and fluffy purple towel… all of the things I used to take for granted made me as happy as a normal kid on Christmas morning. Dressing in one of my favorite dresses, a deep blue that hit above the knee, I thrilled in the feel of actual clothes instead of the scratchy scrubs. I spun around and around in front of the mirror. I hadn’t fixed my hair or put on blush and lipstick since I’d left, and I was glad to see a relatively pretty girl staring back at me in the mirror. Bye-bye bug eyes.

After adding earrings and a cute pair of shoes, I was ready to go.

Dad and Jake appeared at the front door almost an hour early.

“Dibs,” Dad said to Jake, and he hugged me first. “I missed you, honey.”

“I missed you too,” I said and squeezed him tight before moving to Jake and hugging him too.

“You look amazing,” Jake said, kissing me on the cheek.

He wore a suit, and I could identify with the love-sick dogs who’d jumped on Mom because I was ready to lick his cheek and drool all over him.

Jake drove, and Dad sat in the back. “Pretend I’m not here,” Dad said.

We might have tried if it weren’t for his incessant throat clearing whenever he thought Jake wasn’t driving the way he should be.

We finally arrived at the Knoxville Convention Center, and Jake put the car in park. He came around to help me out of the car, and Dad assumed the driver’s seat.

“We’re eating a seven course meal, and then the dancing will start,” Jake said. “Everybody says it is supposed to be magical.”

“It will be,” I said, squeezing his hand.

Beautiful Christmas trees dripped with elegant ornaments and lighting. The perfect taste of Christmas to make up for my last ten days. The ballroom was a true winter wonderland, and I couldn’t think of a better word to sum up the ambiance than magical.

“I’m glad you got to visit your grandmother, Zoe, but I missed you like crazy,” Jake said as our salads were served. “I can’t believe she doesn’t have cell service or internet. I thought there were cell towers everywhere.”

“I guess not,” I said with a shrug.

“I didn’t get to tell you how much I loved the gift.”

“Me too. It was perfect.”

“I did good?” he asked with a grin.

“You did good,” I said.

He lifted his glass of tea and handed me mine. “To us,” he said.

We clinked glasses and my entire body buzzed with excitement as I gazed into his blue eyes.

After dinner, the dancing started, and I couldn’t have been happier than I was in Jake’s arms.

We danced to the orchestra music for hours, and then Jake asked, “This music’s starting to get old.”

I raised my brow. “What do you think we can do about it?”

He pulled an iPod from his pocket and gave each of us one of the ear phones. We swayed to Band of Horses while everyone else danced to swing music. We were completely off tempo from the rest of the couples, but I didn’t care. I didn’t think this night could get any better.

The band took a break just before midnight, as the guests were given refreshments and noisemakers. “Five minutes to midnight,” Jake said.

“Next year is going to be amazing,” I said.

Jake kissed me on the lips. “I know.”

I felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. “Text?” I asked as he pulled it out.

“Yes.” He touched the screen and then used his fingers to enlarge a picture. “Uh oh,” he said.

There was no mistaking the picture of Sheree’s hand with the diamond ring on her finger.

“It might be a ‘Happy Holidays’ ring,” Jake said.

“I’m pretty sure it’s an engagement ring,” I said with a groan. “A ‘great news Jake, you’ve been kissing your soon-to-be stepsister’ ring.”

“We can deal with reality tomorrow,” Jake said. “Tonight is protected by a magical force field.”

As the crowd began counting down from ten, Jake’s lips met mine, and I was thoroughly, completely distracted.

Two Special Treats Follow: Excerpts from
Pointe of No Return
by Amanda Brice and
The Karma Beat
by Juli Alexander.