Mackenzie's Journal

Chapter One: A Bad Day and a Visit to A Psychic

Ah! Je ris de me voir si belle…

"Miss Sterling!"

En ce miroir! Ah…

"Mackenzie Sterling!" My teacher's voice cut through the melody of Gounod's 'Jewel Song' which was playing in my mind and caused me to jump.

"Huh? Oh, yes Sister Marguerite?" I flashed the nun my most disarming smile in attempt to cut through her icy demeanor. I was unsuccessful.

"Miss Sterling," her voice took on the no-nonsense tone that teachers are so good at employing. "Were you listening to me?"

"Of course Sister. I love your class," I resisted the urge to gag. I was more of an English and math person. I hated history and still do. With math I could sharpen my logical skills by solving intricate numerical problems. With English, I could read and thus escape from the torments of my everyday life. The strange combination of these two subject areas made me one of the nerdiest and subsequently one of the most unpopular students in Saint Mary's Academy.

"Then Miss Sterling, please tell me the names of the Union generals in the order that they commanded the Army of the Potomac."

Shit! "Sister, when you say generals, you mean like Grant?"

"Yes I mean Grant and the other seven."

Shit, shit, shit! "Union generals, hmm let's see. We have McDowell, McClellan, Pope, McClellan, uh"—goddamnit! Who the hell are the others? Do I try and be funny? Yeah, that gets me outta a lot of sticky situations. "Doc, Dopey, Sneezy and Grant?"

"Miss Sterling, I am not amused," Sister Marguerite said frigidly.

No, it figures you wouldn't be. "Really? Because I found the mental image really quite comical! I mean, imagine the little dwarfs from 'Snow White' dressed in blue uniforms leading an army of animals into battle…" I allowed my sentence to trail off when I saw the look of extreme disgust increasing on my teacher's face.

"Miss Sterling, your humor does not suit your attempt to be scholarly. If, as you say, you were listening to me, you should have no difficulties in answering my question. Or does your witty mind need some help remembering?"

"If I may, I'd like to use one of my lifelines Sister. I'd like to call—"

"Miss Sterling, here is your lifeline. Either you answer my question correctly or the entire class will have to write a ten page paper on the effects of the Civil War on society and hand it into me first thing tomorrow morning."

I smiled weakly and tried to combat fear with humor. "That's more of a direct line to my death Sister."

"The clock is ticking Miss Sterling."

Oh shit! I began to sweat. All eyes in the classroom were glued on me. My popularity, which was already low, would not be improved by this incident.

"Hey Sister, can I claim sanctuary?" I asked with a very feeble smile.

"Either you answer the question now Miss Sterling or I will triple the number of pages of the paper."

"Okay, okay I'm sorry. The Union generals, they are McDowell, McClellan, Pope, McClellan…uh…Burnside…Hooker..." was Lee a Union General or a Confederate general? Shit! Why was I playing Faust in my mind instead of listening to Sister? Jackson, could that be one? Yeah, Jackson sounds good. "Jackson and Grant."

Sister Marguerite stared at me for a few moments and then, with a smile of cold triumph, she uttered the one word that every student dreads. "Miss Sterling you answer is incorrect."

Oh shit! Well, there goes my chance at being Miss Popularity!

"Mackenzie, you suck! Don't you realize that I have a football game tonight? I'm never gonna get the paper done!" Jack-the-jock (as I called him) yelled.

"Now, now Mr. Radcliffe," Sister said sweetly, "we cannot blame Miss Sterling for having more important things to think about then my lecture."

I wanted to die right then and there but the gods had something worse planned for me. My humiliation tripled when Amber-I'm-so-popular Stern said:

"Like, I totally knew that answer! Mackenzie, are you like stupid or something?"

Anger was slowly building up inside me. "Like oh my God, you should talk!" I retorted. I mimicked her voice so perfectly that I elicited a few chuckles from fellow Amber haters. "Like at least I can use like proper English. And like, at least I got into this school based on my like grades and not like on the amount of money Mommy and Daddy could donate!"

"Miss Sterling that is quite enough! You were the one not paying attention, not Miss Stern," Sister said as she turned to a sniffling Amber. "It is all right Amber," the nun said gently. "You have fine grades and there is nothing wrong with the way you speak."

That remark did it! I used an incorrect word in Sister Marguerite's once and because of that I was forced to write a three page paper on the difference between then and than. I angrily got to my feet. "This is totally fucked up! This place needs to stop catering to Amber Stern simply because her father donates thousands of dollars to Saint Mary's Academy. She should be treated the same way by the faculty as every other student."

Sister Marguerite's face turned scarlet. "Get out of my classroom!"

"With pleasure Miss Marguerite!" I grabbed my book bag from the floor. "Oh and Amber, like you really need to like toughen up," I said as I exited the classroom, leaving the horrified nun staring at me with a look of seething anger on her face.

I stormed down the two flights of stairs until I reached the locker area. When I opened my locker door, I dumped my history books into the small space, grabbed my jacket and slammed the metal door behind me. The sound echoed loudly in the nearly deserted hallway.

I started down the spinach colored hall, book bag slung over one shoulder and my hands balled in my jacket pockets.

"Yo Mac! Where the fuck is the fire?"

"Beck, leave me alone. I'm in a bad mood."

"I can fuckin' see that. Is it because of what happened in history?"

I stopped walking and turned to face my best friend who was running to catch up with me. "How the hell do you know about that? You were in chemistry!"

"No shit, of course I was in chemistry. However I saw one of Amber's lackeys walking down the hallway in a bitchy mood and I asked her what happened. She told me everything. Way to go lil' Mac!"

I stared at my best friend Rebecca Marshal and thought, not for the first time, how a girl like her became my closest friend. She was exceptionally beautiful, tall and slender, with long curly red hair and striking green eyes that got the attention of every boy in the school. She had a rough mannerism and cursed horribly. She was bisexual and flaunted her sexuality with pride, but that did not deter the boys from wanting her or, for that matter, some of the girls. And she satisfied both, from what I heard in the hallways. To put it mildly, she was my complete opposite.

"Look Beck, can't you just leave me alone?"

"No," she said pushing me into one of the lockers. She pinned me against the metal. Although I was physically much stronger then her and could take an ass-whipping much quicker, I allowed her to pinion me. I was in no mood to fight her. "I'm not going to let you go until we discuss-"

"Look Beck, there is nothing to discuss. I'm just pissed off at the politics in this school."

"There's something else on your mind and I know it. What is it?"

"Sometimes, I just wish—I just wish I could go back in time, and escape everything. Sometimes I wish I could throw in my lot with Sherlock Holmes, solve cases with him—you know where I could really use my brain! Then I wouldn't have to worry about-"

"Oh shut up," Becky said placing one of her lacquered fingers against my lips. "You know he's fuckin' fictional. Now, I, on the other hand, am one hundred percent pure woman with needs and wants. And I want you Mackenzie Sterling, I want you so badly."

"Becky, get off me," I said, feeling uncomfortable with how the conversation was going. I tried to push her away from me, but she held fast, an unhidden flash of desire was in her green eyes. "You know I don't walk the crooked line. I love you as a best friend Beck, but that's it. I go for just guys and you know it." I winced at the look of pain that crossed over my best friend's face. But she knew my feelings on such matters and once and awhile, when she decided to be flirtatious, I had to be frank with her.

In a second the pain disappeared and a smile spread over her face and reached her eyes. She messed my hair playfully and moved aside so I could step away from the lockers. "Yeah I love you as a best friend too Mac, and I'm happy to remain as such. However," she dropped her voice, "we would be really good together. So if you ever want to experiment…"

"Never gonna happen Beck," I interrupted.

She laughed. "Well just in case, you know my number."

"Sure do," I replied and once again began walking down the hall.

"Wait up Mac!"

"I want some time alone Becky," I replied. I was no longer mad about history, but I wanted to just be by myself and analyze the worth of my life. To clear my mind of all the doubts and to boost my ego somewhat, I would go onto the main thoroughfare of the town and spend my free time looking at people and deducing their jobs and some things about their lives.

"Oh no you don't," Becky said grabbing my arm. "Hell no, I know what you're gonna do! You're gonna contemplate…"

"Ooh, big word," I said with a wiry smile.

"Fuck off Miss English Major. But as I was sayin' you're gonna contemplate killin' yourself and then when you actually think you might do it, you'll get scared and spend the rest of the time lookin' at people and tellin' them stuff about themselves."

"You know me like a book Beck, and I'm not going to deny that."

"You're going to fucking graduate in what, two months? Can't you lighten up a little?"

I shook my head in the negative and continued to walk down the long corridor.

"Well me and you are going to go out right now," she grabbed my sleeve.

"Where do you want to go?"

"Me? I'd like to go get laid, but fear not lil' Mac. We're going to go somewhere you can relax."

"Where?"

"You'll see, now come on!"

Being curious and adventurous by nature, I followed my best friend to the main office where we signed out. When we stepped outside, Becky began to twirl around on the grass.

"Freedom, sweet freedom!" She said with a laugh.

"I wanna walk, I don't feel like drivin'," I said as she started towards my yellow Mustang.

"Fine, make me exercise!" Becky pulled a face, but I ignored it.

"Where are we going?"

"Madame Sophie's," my best friend said with an impish smile.

I groaned. "Do I really have to go to your clairvoyant?"

"My what?"

"Your psychic! How is Madame Sophie going to help me relax?"

Becky did not answer me until we reached the old brightly colored caravan car on the outskirts of town. "She has a new spell," my friend said knocking on the door. "It makes wishes come true."

"Yeah, I'll believe that bullshit when pigs can fly," I growled hotly. "Can't we just go grab some lunch or something?"

"No," Becky said knocking once again.

I watched in mute annoyance as a small sliding panel on the red door was pushed aside. A pair of big black eyes could be seen through the rectangular hole.

"Who dares to enter Madame's residence, eh?"

"Hey Madame Sophie, it's me Becky."

"Ooh! My leetle Rebecca! 'Ow nice to see you again. And what is this? You brought a friend along?"

"See Mac, she's really psychic," Becky said with a broad smile.

I nodded as the door opened. "She saw me through the slot you moron."

"Ah, my leetle one, you are very observant," said the woman I took to be Madame Sophie. She was dressed in long flowing robes, common of Gypsies in the time of Victor Hugo. Her skin was deeply tanned and her black curly hair was pulled back with a purple sash. A large golden hoop earring was in her left ear, a mark of good fortune among Gypsies, or so I read.

She ushered Becky and me into a dark and dusty room inside the caravan car. The room itself smelt of the most disgusting spices that have ever assaulted the nostrils of humanity. I was forced to choke down my rising gorge. Becky was undisturbed by the smell.

"Please sit leetle ones and tell Madame Sophie why you are 'ere," her speech was laden with an over practiced Transylvanian accent. She indicated for Becky and me to sit down in two worn wooden chairs that surrounded a table covered with violet silk and had a crystal ball in its center.

Not wanting to seem, rude I sat.

"Well Madame Sophie," Becky said with so much enthusiasm that I had to resist the urge to hurl. "Mac here is having a problem."

The great owl eyes of the Gypsy stared at me. "What is the matter leetle one?"

If you were such a psychic, you'd be able to tell me, now wouldn't you? I withstood the desire to speak my thoughts aloud. I sighed and smiled feebly. "Really Madame, I don't have a problem. Becky makes too much of a trifle."

Obviously if I couldn't speak about my problems with my family or best friend, I certainly wasn't going to tell them to some woman that was dressed several months too early for Halloween.

"Madame Sophie, Mac thinks that she doesn't fit in. She wants to go to the Victorian Era and meet Sherlock Holmes. She thinks she'd be much more suited there then here."

"Is that true leetle one?" Madame Sophie asked me once again fixing me with her owl like stare.

If I say yes, can I leave? "Yeah, absolutely."

The Gypsy didn't recognize my sarcasm. "Well then leetle one, perhaps Madame Sophie can feex your problem eh? I have a spell here that can tweest the barriers of time."

Oh Jesus Christ! Does she honestly expect any self respecting person to buy that load of garbage? I looked at Becky and saw her eyes wide with anticipation. Christ! Beck believes this shit too? What is the world coming to?

"Leetle one, you look skeptical," Madame Sophie observed.

I look skeptical because I am skeptical. "Madame Sophie, I hate to tell you, but twisting the barriers of time is impossible. Science cannot…"

"Ah leetle Mackenzie, you must learn to let your convictions and hardcore belief in facts go. Leave them at the door. Start to look at life weeth a leetle open mind, eh?"

"I look at life with an open mind ma'am," I said with some heat. "However, I do not believe in supernatural mumbo-jumbo. There is no way in hell that you can blur time boundaries. If you could, don't you think that every single person would go back in time, thus destroying history as we know it?"

"Ah, Madame Sophie knows the trick. But no one else does," the Gypsy said with some arrogance.

Please stop referring to yourself in the third person. I would greatly appreciate it. "I'm sure you and every other fraud say that."

"Mac!" Becky was mortified at my rudeness.

"Becky, do not be angry with her. She is jus' being honest. Madame Sophie likes to show people who do not believe that they are wrong."

"You'll be hard pressed to do that," I said.

"Perhaps not. Would you care to experiment weeth me or are you to skeptical?"

"Was that a challenge?" I asked.

"Perhaps."

"No one challenge is too great for me Madame."

"Good, so you and Becky will join me then?"

"Sure!" Becky said with a wide grin.

"Whatever, yeah I'm in," I replied, growing bored with the course of the conversation. I wanted to leave and I figured the only way I could do that was to humor the Gypsy.

"Good!" Madame Sophie dimmed all the lights in the small car until we were sitting in shadow. "Now, Becky you and Mac hold hands. Perrrfecto!" She rolled the 'r' in attempt to make herself seem more mysterious.

Christ! How much longer is this going to last?

"Now, I will call forth spirits of time to come and move the boundaries. Spirits come forth, come forth sprits. You must make a path to the Victorian Era for these two young adventurers."

"Is she for real?" I asked not bothering to hide my sarcasm.

"Hush up Mac! You'll ruin the spell!" Becky said, closing her eyes tightly.

I sighed loudly and continued to listen to the Gypsy chant nonsense, calling unreal spirits to bend the space-time continuum. Suddenly Madame Sophie's words turned into a jumble and I began to feel extremely light headed.

What the hell? Multicolored spots began to swim before my eyes and my ears started to ring. That woman gave me some sort of hallucinogenic! I suddenly felt a falling sensation and then my body painfully crashed down on something hard. My vision completely washed to black.