Midnight on Strange Street, page 9
“A blue light,” she said aloud. “Like our blue flames.”
“Exactly,” Dani replied. “That fire was weird. Unexplainable, like our powers. And it happened on our street.”
“Wait,” said Avery. “What fire? What incident?”
“My parents always said it was more urban legend than anything else,” said Bastian, looking thoughtful. “But…the legend does say there was a giant blue flame. It burned on Cedar Lane for an hour and then it disappeared. No one ever figured out why.”
“I don’t know if there’s a connection,” Dani admitted, “and it doesn’t change anything for now. But…it’s something to think about.”
“Ugh,” Avery said. She lay back in the dust, arms thrown over her face to shield it from the sun. “This is crazy. It’s totally crazy. It can’t be real life.”
“See?” said Dani. “This is why I wanted us to practice. Because practicing is doing something. Thinking gets us all freaked out. So we figured out we can talk and move stuff with our minds. We’re getting creepy messages from aliens. But there’s nothing we can do about any of that. Don’t you see? Right now, skating is the best thing. Skating is what we know, something we can do.”
“But glowboarding isn’t all there is!” Lola shouted.
Bastian raised his eyebrows. Dani and Avery stared at her, silent. Lola never shouted; that was new. But so was eradication.
“Did you forget?” said Lola. “I made a cafeteria explode. School got dismissed and firefighters showed up. Police, too. All because of me. I don’t know about you, but I’m scared. I don’t want something like that to happen again. I don’t want to end up hurting somebody. Dani just found out that these aliens are dangerous. Well…what if we are, too?”
The circle was quiet, both inside their heads and out.
Then Bastian spoke. “Lola’s right,” he said. “We might be dangerous. We don’t know how much we can do with our powers. And now, if these aliens really mean eradication, we have to find out more. We have to figure out how to stop it. We—”
“We have to stick together,” Avery finished. She spoke the words quietly at first, then repeated them, louder. “Whatever happens, we stick together. We all moved to Strange Street. We’re all Sardines. We ended up together for a reason—even if it was those aliens who did it, with their…elixir, or whatever. And sure, we’re different, but we all have the blue light in common. So whatever happens next, we face it together.”
“Okay,” said Bastian, “but how?”
“I guess…” Avery took time to think, then spoke again, this time in their minds. We carry on like normal. We all agreed, we don’t want the adults to know. So we…what do they call it? Keep a low profile. If we don’t, the grown-ups will take us to doctors or split us up. So we act like nothing has changed. We practice for Glow in the Park, like Dani said. But we can’t deny there’s creepy stuff happening, too. It’s scary, like Lola said. So while we’re acting normal we investigate.
I’ve already looked up tele-whatevers on the internet, said Dani. It’s all weird books and kooky blogs. Nothing that’s gonna help us.
No, said Avery. I’ve read plenty of books about it, too. They’re no good. I don’t mean that kind of investigating. This kind we do for ourselves. We know we can say and move things with our minds, but do we know how much?
The others shared uncertain glances.
I mean, Avery continued, Lola just linked us together. We didn’t know that was possible until now.
Lola studied her crisscrossed legs, unsure if she liked all the new attention she’d brought on herself.
So, said Bastian, who sounded excited again, you’re saying we should figure this out by trial and error. Experimenting. Like in science class.
Yes, Avery said. The aliens—if they can speak in our heads, if they say they gave us our powers, then we need to understand what we can do. We need to figure out how to talk to them, to show them they’re wrong, that they don’t need to rescue or eradicate anyone.
Bastian turned to Dani. You said they spoke to you through…breakfast?
My smoothie, Dani said. They made stuff appear in it. Stuff from my past.
So maybe food’s the key, Bastian mused. One thing’s for sure: They’re not getting their whole message through. If they contact us again, we have to pay close attention.
The Sardines grew quiet. The sun beat down on their helmets, casting short shadows on the nearby boulders. Lola felt a sudden rustling sensation against her neck. She looked down to see the paper daisies from her homemade flower necklace slipping from their binding, one at a time, then wisping into the air in a soothing, sunlit dance.
Beside her, Avery sat very still, her hazel eyes crackling with energy as she focused on the dancing flowers. Then the daisies quivered for an instant and dropped from midair, piling one after the other in Lola’s lap.
Lola gasped, then picked up a single daisy to study.
Avery released a long, rattling breath. She gave Lola a smile that Lola knew was meant only for her. Then she looked around at the others. “There,” she said. “That’s something new. Investigation number one.”
“Maybe,” said Dani, scrunching her nose in thought, “the more we practice, the more we can control it.”
“And no one else can know about this,” Bastian said. “Not our parents, no one.”
“Like a vow of secrecy?” asked Avery.
Dani nodded. “Yeah. A vow. Can we all agree on that?”
She looked around the circle, noting each member’s nod, then nodding herself.
“Right,” she said. “For now, we act like everything’s normal. We focus on Glow in the Park. And behind the scenes, we investigate. See what our powers can do, and if we can make contact with the aliens again.”
“And hopefully,” said Avery, “we do all that before the earth gets destroyed.”
“That’s the spirit, Vee,” Bastian muttered.
Once again, Lola wasn’t paying strict attention to the conversation. This time, she’d seen a flash of movement to her right. She started toward it, but on closer observation, the only thing there was a small desert shrub.
“Lols?” asked Avery, looking at her with concern.
“I thought I saw…” Lola stopped short and shook her head. “It was nothing, though.”
The other Sardines looked around, their brows bent and eyes alert, but further inspection showed that there really was nothing and no one around. Lola guessed she was only jumpy from all the secretive talk.
“Okay,” said Avery as they got to their feet. “We’ve got a plan. But can I just say? It’s really weird to think Radar’s a telepath.”
It was a big day for the man in the navy suit.
After years of waiting, months of monitoring, and days of investigation, they’d had their first breakthrough. They were one step closer to capturing them.
But now the situation was more complicated.
“You’re sure this inside source of yours is reliable?” asked the woman with the high ponytail—his almost constant companion in the search.
“Believe me,” said the man. “More than reliable. He’s…very close to the situation.”
“I didn’t expect them to be so young.” The woman tapped a glossy paper that lay on the desk before her. There were blown-up photographs, five in total, each neatly labeled with a name. She’d touched the one of a short-haired girl, labeled Danielle Hirsch. “They’re children.”
The man in the navy suit shook his head. “I can’t believe it, either. It’s not what we were expecting. It’s…” The man trailed off, looking to a photograph labeled Dolores Gil. “It’s almost incomprehensible. But you witnessed what they did at that school, and I have no doubt that incident was a mere fluke. Imagine what they’ll be capable of when they use their powers intentionally. We must intervene before then. This secret can’t get out to the public. In that, the interests of Gloworks and the DGE are aligned.”
The woman continued to study the photographs with a furrowed brow. “What would you suggest as our next steps?”
“We monitor them,” said the man. “For now, we gather information, and we keep quiet. We have to be absolutely sure, when we make our move, that it’s the right one. We don’t want anyone to get hurt in the process.”
“No,” the woman said, turning her darkened eyes to the photograph labeled Avery Miller. “We certainly wouldn’t want that.”
Ms. Sills wasn’t around when Avery got home that afternoon, but that was no surprise; her mom often worked late, sometimes past Avery’s bedtime. Days like these, Avery used the securipad to get in the house, entering the code—Radar’s birthday—with practiced finesse. Radar greeted her, yipping happily, and Avery knelt to kiss his face, rubbing down his sides.
“Did you see squirrels today?” she asked him. “Did you show them who’s boss?”
Radar wagged his tail.
Avery nodded her approval and let Radar out back. Then she turned on the oven and dug out a box of pizza bagels from the freezer. Her mother insisted that Avery eat fruits or vegetables with her meals, and every so often she did check the fruit basket. So begrudgingly, Avery took an apple up to her room while the mini pizzas cooked.
Since the move, Avery’s bedroom had been painted a cheery green, though most of the paint was now obscured by stacks and stacks of books. That was all Avery had requested for Christmases and birthdays since she was eight years old: books and books, and more books. When she wasn’t receiving books as gifts, she was visiting local yard sales, picking up paperbacks for quarters. Her collection had grown and was now composed of dozens of titles she’d yet to explore. In the end, when she and her mother had moved out to Callaway, books filled up two-thirds of Avery’s moving boxes.
There were some novels she’d read over a dozen times—A Wrinkle in Time, by Madeleine L’Engle, and Tuck Everlasting, by Natalie Babbitt. Avery liked Meg Murry and Winnie Foster well enough, but her favorite characters were the Mrs. Ws and Mae Tuck. She liked to imagine what it’d be like to be a kindly supernatural entity, or to live forever and never age.
Lately, though, Avery hadn’t been in the mood for immortal families. She had other topics on her mind, like telepathy and telekinesis.
When Avery’s powers had first shown up, back in LA, she’d checked out lots of library books on telekinesis, but none of the descriptions sounded like her. And none of the books in Avery’s current collection could give her answers to the questions she most wanted answered. Instead, Avery tugged out a yellow spiral notebook from under her bed. It was a journal, filled with half-finished entries that spanned over three years. Avery had never been able to turn herself into a committed journal writer. But when it came to this—the tele-whatevers—she figured she could make an exception. The Sardines had agreed to investigate after all.
Avery flipped open the book and wrote down a heading in pen:
A RECORD OF MY POWERS
She scowled at the page. No, not powers. That sounded terrible. She crossed out the word and thought some more.
A RECORD OF MY GIFTS
No. Gifts looked even worse. She crossed that out, too.
A RECORD OF MY TELE-WHATEVERS
Yes. That would do.
Beneath the messy title, Avery wrote down the following:
First Time: School Bathroom—Telekinesis
Second Time: Backyard—Telekinesis
Avery kept on this way until she reached
Twenty-Ninth Time: Sardines Night—Telekinesis
She remembered the horror she’d felt as she’d watched Dani fall from the oak tree. That night, the blue flame’s power had poured out of Avery like waves. She hadn’t done something as big as that since the first entry, marked School Bathroom.
Avery didn’t want to remember that particular time. It was bad enough writing it down. Unbidden, the image of rushing water and yellow bathroom tile sprang into her mind. Avery felt as frightened as ever by the memory, but another emotion was building inside her: relief. At least she wasn’t alone. What had happened in LA, what she’d done on Sardines Night—she wasn’t alone.
With a sigh, Avery shut the journal and shoved it under her pillow. Then she looked at the apple she’d set aside, on her duvet. She looked harder, squinting.
Maybe food’s the key.
Wasn’t that what Bastian had said? Dani’s breakfast smoothie had spoken to her. Maybe Avery’s apple could, too.
“Hello?” she asked, tapping the apple’s short, bent stem. “Aliens? Um, light beings?”
There was no reply. Avery sat up, grabbing the apple and holding it in both hands. She closed her eyes, and this time tried something new.
Speak to me, she thought, pushing the words upward. I’m listening. Who are you? When are you coming to Earth? Could you not blow up our planet?
She waited seconds, then more seconds.
Nothing happened. There was no voice in her mind, no visions like Dani had described. She just felt stupid.
Avery sighed and opened her eyes.
“Well,” she said, “it was worth a try.”
Then she took a chomp from the apple and headed downstairs to let Radar in.
The bright-eyed dog bounded inside and followed Avery to the kitchen computer. There, still gnawing away at her apple, Avery took a seat. She looked to Radar, who placed his chin on her knee, staring up with his brown and blue eyes. He always seemed to know when Avery needed some cuteness. She grinned and scratched him behind the ears.
Then she opened her email. There was one unread message in her in-box.
One unread message from Eric Miller.
Her dad.
The subject line read: Callaway Visit.
Avery swallowed, and swallowed again. Why did her throat dry up every single time she thought of her dad?
Maybe it was because she hadn’t seen him for a whole year, since she’d moved from LA to Callaway. He’d said he was going to visit her last fall, and then again in December, for the holidays. But both of those times, he’d backed out of the trips. Both of those times, his work had won out. In September, he’d been invited to some big Hollywood party. And then, four months later, he’d been given the “chance of a lifetime” to film dolphins in New Zealand. Dolphins. That was a chance of a lifetime, but not Avery.
This time it’s different, Avery thought as she opened the email. She was going to take him to Pizza Palace, the best restaurant in town. She was going to show him Taft Middle, where she went to school. They were going to take a drive downtown, and maybe even a day trip out to Austin. And best of all? The week was planned around Glow in the Park. Her dad was going to see her skate, see her compete, see her win first place.
Then he was going to figure it out. He was going to understand how wrong he’d been, back in that principal’s office in LA. He was going to realize how stupid he’d been to think all his projects were more exciting than his own daughter. He was going to get it.
But she was wrong. The email read:
Hey, Veemeister!
Hope all’s well in sunny Texas. As much as I’d been looking forward to seeing you this month, I can’t make it out this summer like I’d originally planned. Some work issues have arisen, and travel isn’t an option at the moment. I’ll plan another visit soon.
Love,
Dad
Avery swallowed. Her throat remained dry.
He was canceling. Only a few weeks out from the trip, and he was canceling again. Avery felt like crying. She felt like picking up the computer and smashing it on the ground. Radar whimpered, studying Avery with concern.
“Figures,” she muttered, staring at the screen through brimming tears.
Work issues. Of course. It was always work. Avery could never be that notable; she wasn’t documentary material, like watersheds in Iceland or dolphins in New Zealand.
Why had she thought this summer would be different?
Avery remembered with perfect clarity how her father hadn’t defended her when the strange thing had happened, and when she’d needed him most. He’d sat in that principal’s office and listened to the adults instead of her. He’d told Avery to grow up and stop inventing stories.
He had never been there for her. He had never believed her.
Avery looked back to the computer screen. Inside her, the blue light pulsed, strong and sure. And it was just then that the fire alarm started shrieking.
“The pizza bagels!” Avery moaned as the scent of smoke filled her nose.
“A crown? Mountain range. Shark teeth!”
Lola sat on the front porch by Nando’s side, giggling as Nando tried to guess the shape Bastian was making with his glowstream. Bastian had run through this particular drawing five times now, with no success. There was sweat on his brow and frustration in his face.
Nando, Lola spoke into Bastian’s head. That’s what it is. You’re spelling his name, aren’t you?
Yeah, big help, Bastian thought back, kicking off the stream and returning to his starting point, in the middle of the Gils’ driveway. Don’t give him any hints.
“Lola,” Nando whispered. “Give me a hint?”
Lola looked up at her older brother. Somehow he was larger than she remembered, taking up so much space and energy. When he’d left ten months ago, he had simply been Nando, her brother. Now he was a government worker with a job and secrets, a fake last name, and a small beard. The beard was definitely different.
In response to Nando’s request, she clamped her mouth shut and shook her head.
“Come on,” he pleaded. “I know you know. You two are always in sync.”
Lola gave a giant shrug.
“You can’t guess if you’re not watching!” Bastian shouted at Nando.
“Okay, okay!” Nando said, waving. “I’ll get it this time, for sure.”
Bastian began again, carving over the concrete, a silver trail of glow shooting out in his wake. Lola could see it so clearly: the N, the A after it. How could Nando not?
