Episode 9: Third Sight
Note: I've tried to illustrate transitions in time and point of view in many ways since I started writing for First, I tried a double space. That didn't show up. Then I tried a line of asterisks. That worked for a while, but for some reason lately it doesn't anymore. I tried another typographical symbol, but that doesn't work either. So, the only other option I can think of is text. But I still want it to jump out at you that I'm making a transition. Therefore, I'm going to type it in all caps. So, when you see that, I'm not yelling at you or intending to be rude. I just want to make that clear, because there will be many transitions like that in this chapter.
"What was that?"
"What was what, Honey?"
"Didn't you see it, Mommy? It was a bright, green light by the flagpole! It's not there anymore."
"I didn't see anything. Maybe the sun got in your eyes."
"No, it didn't!"
Claire stopped the car in front of the school. "Don't worry about that now, Sweetheart. You go on to class, ok? And you're taking the bus home this afternoon, remember?"
"Yes, Mommy."
"You have a good day, Precious. Mommy loves you."
"I love you too, Mommy." Precious kissed her mother goodbye very quickly and got out of the car. She walked down the familiar hallway toward her classroom, not thinking much about the people around her until--
"Good morning."
She looked at the speaker. It was a young man wearing black jeans and a brown jacket. He had black, messy hair and gray eyes, and he was very tall. Precious did not recognize him at all, so she turned away, returned to her pace and said, "Morning."
"I like your hat."
"Thanks."
"You're Precious Swan, right?"
Precious didn't answer.
"Did you hear me?"
"You're a stranger. Mommy says I'm not supposed to talk to you," Precious replied without looking at the boy. She quickened her pace so that she could lose him.
"Your mother taught you well!" the boy called after her. Precious walked even quicker. As she got to the end of the hall, she turned around to see if the boy was still following her. He wasn't. He was turned to the right, looking at somebody she couldn't see and mouthing what looked like, "Now what?" Precious was satisfied and rounded the corner. Yet just seconds after that, the boy came running after her. He stopped in front of her and paused to catch his breath.
"Terry McGinnis," he huffed.
"What?"
"Terry McGinnis," he repeated more slowly. "That's my name. And I'm quite sure you're Precious Swan. There. Since we know each other, we're not strangers anymore, right?"
She still looked at him doubtfully. Then she answered, "You're not supposed to run in the halls." Then once again she tried to walk ahead.
"I just wanted to make sure I didn't lose you," Terry answered as he walked behind her. She refused to even look back. "Fine. We don't have to talk, but I still have to follow you. I was sent to watch you today."
At this, Precious stopped, turned around, and walked back to Terry. "Did Mr. Wayne send you?"
Terry looked surprised. "Yeah. How did you know?"
She started walking again, but this time she went a little slower. "It must have to do with that test I have to take tomorrow, doesn't it?"
"Well, it's about something that going to happen tomorrow."
"It's not going to be hard, is it? I'm really worried. I haven't taken a test like that before. Mommy says it can affect my whole future. If I do good, I might go to another school. That's what Mommy wants to happen. But what if I do bad? Will I go to a worse school? Do you know?"
"Uh, I don't think you need to worry about the test," Terry said nervously.
"You sure?"
"Yeah. Let's just get to your class."
"OK." She led him to the classroom and approached the teacher. "Miss Archambault, this is Mr. McGinnis. Mr. Wayne sent him to observe me today."
Terry didn't greet the teacher. He sighed and looked at the floor. The teacher smiled sympathetically and said, "Alright, Precious. Take your seat please."
As they sat down, Terry said, "OK, two things. One: You didn't have to tell your teacher about me."
"Why? Did she expect you?"
"She, she didn't need to know about me is all. And two: Just call me Terry, please."
"Mommy says it's rude to call grown people by their first names."
"I'm only 17."
"Oh. Well, I guess that's ok then. I know a couple of people who are almost 17, and I call them by their first names."
They were quiet for a while. Then Terry remarked, "There are a lot of boys here. Are you the only girl?"
"Maggie's usually here, but she's been sick the past couple of days. Summer went on to another school. That's the school that Mommy wants me to go to, so maybe I'll see her again. Diana's usually here--oh, there she is. She comes in late most of the time."
"So do you know the other kids in your class?"
"Oh yeah. That's Raymond over there, sorting his baseball cards. And that's Matthew on the computer and Simon working on his word puzzle book again (those things are hard!). Those boys over there are twins, Phillip and Steven. Leland's playing with the water guns over there. We have a couple of Alans. That's Alan with an A, and over there is Allen with two L's and an E."
"They're good kids?"
"They're ok."
Just then, a gentle tone sounded on the PA system. It was time for class to begin.
TRANSITION
Claire parked the car and waited for the school traffic to die down. Once everything was quiet, she got out of the car, closed the door, and pushed a button on her key chain to lock all of her car doors. (Nothing special about this, but you still need to keep this moment in mind.)
She walked into the school and turned toward the office. As she approached the door, it opened by itself. "They must have had a door opener installed for their wheelchair students," she thought to herself. However, she did find it strange. Don't those doors usually come with a button to push when the door needed to open? It didn't have automatic door sensors. Well, anyway, that wasn't important.
The principal was making announcements, and another parent was talking to the secretary. Claire decided to sit while she waited her turn. She sat down on a couch in the office. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Shocked, she turned around to see who had touched her, but there was nobody there. She turned her head in all directions to see if she could see anyone at all, but nothing could be found.
"Are you alright, miss?" the secretary asked.
"Oh, I'm fine. Somebody just walked over my grave, I guess," Claire answered with a nervous laugh.
"How may I help you?"
Claire got up and approached the desk. "My daughter is scheduled to have an evaluation at the Bruce Wayne Autism Research Center in Gotham City. We'll be gone most of the day, and I just wanted to make certain that she is excused."
"No problem. Just make sure you give us a note."
"Oh, I'll give you a note alright. I'll give you a letter saying she doesn't have to come to this glorified daycare anymore!" She stomped out and slammed the door behind her. She was so angry that she didn't notice that it did not open automatically for her that time. Then she paused and wondered why she let her frustration get the better of her. She took a few breaths to calm down then started to leave again when two people came toward her from down the hallway. One was a tall man with straw-colored hair, and the other was a short woman with dark hair and an overall black scheme. Claire was sure that she had never seen either of them before.
"Excuse me," the man said. "You're Claire Foley, right?"
"Yes sir."
He shook her hand. "It's a pleasure. I'm Ira Billings, school counselor. This is–" He said the woman's name, but Claire didn't hear it. Someone, at that moment, sneezed.
"Gesundheit," Claire said.
"I beg your pardon?" the woman said.
"You sneezed, didn't you?"
"No."
"Hmm. Maybe I'm hearing things. I'm very sorry. I didn't mean it as an insult."
"We're here to talk about your daughter," Mr. Billings said. "We've talked to her teachers, and we both believe that she's . . . a very special child."
"Of course. Everybody in this school is, right?"
"We understand that she can do amazing things with her mind alone," the woman said.
"Oh, here we go."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Listen. My daughter is not a savant! She's not a human calculator. She can't decode anything the FBI throws at us. She's no superhuman computer! She's just a girl."
"But we've hear that she can correctly spell and define words upon hearing them, for one thing," the woman argued.
"Well, yes, her love affair with words is pretty incredible. And she absorbs anything that she learns. I can't explain everything that she does, but it's nothing too special."
"Still, it might be the beginning of something big. We can help her fine tune her latent talents into amazing things. Now, we understand that you're looking for a new school."
"Yes. Tomorrow, I'm taking my daughter to Gotham City to get her reevaluated."
"You don't need to get her reevaluated. I run a special school called the Braintrust. It's much more reliable than this school."
"Thank you, but I don't believe that's necessary. I would rather let the experts be the judge."
"Very well," Mr. Billings said. "Please do not forget our offer. I would be interested in studying your girl. I heard she was very seriously autistic until age 8. What is her secret?"
"Uh, a little bit of good parenting, and a gift from her cousin. Now, I really must be going. I'm running late for work."
Claire backed away and ran for the door. Something about both of those people was really creepy. She hoped she didn't have to see them again. When she got to her car, she was shocked to find her back car door wide open. First she was confused. "When did I open this door? Didn't I lock the car?" Then she remembered all those urban legends from her high school days, and she gripped her pepper spray as she slowly approached the car. "Who's there?" she yelled in the back. "Don't try to hide! I know a policeman personally, and I have his number on my cell phone!" She inspected closely all around her car several times, and she never saw anyone. Finally, she reminded herself that she was late for work, closed the door, and got into the driver's seat. Once again, she swore that she felt a hand on her shoulder. She screamed and sprayed her pepper spay behind her. There was nobody there. "Why am I so jumpy today? Maybe I shouldn't have had that second cup of coffee," she told herself. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched.
And she was . . .
TRANSITION
The day was getting really strange for Precious. As far as school went, it was still pretty normal. Something about Terry made her nervous. He did not talk much, but sometimes she couldn't help but look back at him, just to see if he was still there. Whenever she did, he'd lift his eyebrows at her and give her a small smile. He looked kinda bored.
But that wasn't the strangest thing. About once every hour, somebody passed by the classroom. Precious could see him in the small window of the class's door. He wore shades and a trench coat. He looked like a guy in one of her mother's favorite science fiction movies that Precious didn't like much because she didn't understand it. He always looked in the window, and Terry always gestured to him. Sometimes he gave a thumbs up. Other times he made an OK sign. A few times he made a gesture that Precious didn't even recognize, but it probably meant the same thing. The stranger in the window always nodded solemnly and walked. And every time, Precious turned to Terry and whispered, "Who is that?" He always replied by shushing her and pointing to the teacher.
The events bothered Precious, but by the middle of the day she decided that they were none of her business. It was time for recess. Precious put on her heavy coat and took with her a heavy book. Then she climbed to the top of a dome-shaped jungle gym and started reading.
"Why aren't you playing?"
Precious looked down to see that Terry had climbed up too. He was leaning on the side next to her.
"It's too cold," she answered.
"Well, a little activity will circulate your blood, and you'll feel warmer."
"That's what they say, but all I feel when I play in the cold is the wind drive into my cheeks with sharp, icy knives."
"I hear that. It really gets cold up in Gotham. The wind is merciless. So, you sure you're friends don't mind?"
"What, those kids?" She pointed toward her classmates. "Look at them. All they do is run. Run, run, run, run, run. Running in circles, running in lines, running around the merry-go-round. It's like the Caucus-race. You know, in 'Alice in Wonderland?' They keep running, but are they really getting anywhere?"
"Wow," Terry said after a pause. "That's deep."
"Yeah, and I also don't like running much. I'm so slow."
Terry laughed half-heartedly. "Yeah. What are you reading?"
"Othello."
"Isn't that . . . Shakespeare?"
"Yeah."
"How old are you?"
"12."
"And you're already reading Shakespeare?"
"Yeah."
"Do you understand it?"
"Not really. These footnotes help. A friend of mine told me the gist of it."
"Man, that's . . . admirable. I still don't get or really appreciate Shakespeare. My girlfriend Dana is crazy about it, though. She begged and begged me to take her to see Romeo and Juliet in a live play! They just don't do that anymore. I just can't believe that even in our day and age, people still listen to that dinosaur language."
"It's not so hard. The preacher at my Church congregation sometimes talks like that."
"So, how did you get interested in Shakespeare? I mean, that play is pretty mature for you."
"That's a secret."
"I won't tell anybody. I keep a lot of secrets."
"Not even Mommy knows. No wait, she does. My cousin, of course. Well, I guess I can tell you. My best friend from Dakota is starring in Othello."
"Really? Who's he playing?"
"Uh, Othello."
"Oh, OK."
"He didn't want to be in it because he had other things to do after school, but his teacher asked him to. It also turns out that all of his friends are in the play too. My cousin is playing the villain, Iago, but he's good at memorizing. My friend has asked me to read lines to him so that he could recite his lines so that he will be ready for his rehearsals. Because all those other things he has to do after school he has to do at night now, and he doesn't have much time for sleep or studying. I just want to read beforehand so that I know what I'm telling him before I say it. Does that make sense?"
"Uh-huh. I've been there. Well, I guess I'll let you read."
Precious looked down at her book, but something was bothering her. "Do you hear that noise?"
"What noise?"
"It sounds like the buzzing, high-pitched hum I hear from lights. But we're outside. We shouldn't be hearing that noise."
"I don't hear anything like that. Maybe you're imagining it."
"Well, I wish it would stop. It's making me very uncomfortable." She looked back down at her book to try to get her mind off of it. Eventually, though, it faded away. "That's better. See Terry?"
But Terry wasn't there anymore. Precious shrugged and continued to read. She didn't see Terry at lunch time either. She almost forgot about him until he was getting on the bus with her.
"What are you doing?" she asked him.
"I would take my car, but I . . . I came here another way."
"What do you mean? Where are you going?"
"Your house."
"What? Does Mommy know you're coming?"
"She doesn't have to know."
"But she gets really mad at me when I bring friends over without telling her! I don't want to get in trouble!"
"You won't get in trouble. I'll take care of it, don't worry. But I have to watch you to the end of the day."
"That's what Mr. Wayne told you to do?"
"Those are my orders, yeah."
"Then why did you leave at recess?"
"I had to talk to some people."
"Like that guy who kept looking at us? Who is he?"
"Never mind."
"Why?"
"It's complicated."
"Well, OK."
The bus drove down to a quiet neighborhood. Precious and Terry got off. They were quiet for a while. Then Terry commented, "So, how do you feel about school?"
"It's ok."
"You really feel like you don't belong there, do you?"
"I don't know. I've been going there ever since I started going to school. I don't completely understand why Mommy wants me to go somewhere else now. But then again, I remember that 'school' is defined as 'an institution for instruction and learning,' and I realize that I haven't learned anything new at school in the past couple of years. So, this isn't really a school, is it?"
"Well, I get the feeling that it's not the school for you. I mean, you were the only student there who wasn't screaming all day or needed help doing ordinary stuff. I hope you do find another school."
"So, you think that test will be easy?"
"Like I said, you don't have to worry about it."
"Terry, what is Mr. Wayne like?"
Terry laughed and hesitated. "Well, the Mr. Wayne I know and the Mr. Wayne everybody else knows are two different people, believe me."
"Yeah, you're probably right."
Just at that moment, someone jumped out at them from behind a fence that they were walking along. "LULU!"
Precious backed away in fear. Two high school boys laughed at her. "Good one, Clay," one of them said to the other.
"Leave me alone, Donnie and Clayton," Precious grumbled.
"Sure, we'll leave you alone so you can talk to yourself more!" one of them laughed.
"What was that you were saying about Mr. Wayne?" the other derided.
"I wasn't talking to myself! I was talking to Mr. McGinnis here."
Terry sighed and said something that sounded like, "Slag."
"Oh, Mr. McGinnis!" one of the boys said grandiosely. "I didn't see you there! I'm Clayton Kohler. Pleased to meet you."
"And I'm Donnie Osgoode. Have you always been with little Lulu here?"
"You're not even looking at him!" Precious said.
"You're not even looking at him!" Clayton repeated in a mocking tone.
Precious happened to notice that the same man who kept looking in on her was walking right across the street. He stopped and looked at her. Precious filled herself with her superhero-like confidence and said, "I'm warning you, one of these days I'm going to–"
"Oh, here we go, Clay," Donnie said. "It's the Static speech."
"Why don't you call him now? We'd love to see Static and Gear, get their autograph."
"Yeah, go ahead and yell for them. Maybe they'll hear you this time!"
With that, Donnie pushed her down. She tried to get up. Before Clayton kicked her down again, she saw that guy from across the street running toward her. "Help! Help Terry!" she yelled.
"Help Terry!" the mocked again.
"Alright dregs, break it up!" a voice yelled. Precious pulled herself up and saw the man from across the street pushing the boys out of the way. Donnie was even knocked over. Terry was still observing like an outsider
"What happened?" Clayton asked.
"Tripped," Donnie answered.
"Yeah right, you big duffus."
The mystery man knelt down again and struck the boys. They screamed. Precious never heard them scream before. They got to their feet. "Now, get out of here! And don't bother this girl again!" the man yelled at them. The boys ran away.
"What are you doing?" Terry said in a half whisper.
"What YOU should be doing," the man replied. He knelt down to the girl's level. "You alright, Precious?"
Precious's conscience told her to repeat her mother's lecture about strangers, but there was something about this stranger that was familiar. She hadn't noticed it before. She couldn't explain it. There was just something about him. So, she said nervously, "You know me?"
"Yeah. You just don't know it yet."
Precious looked at him puzzled, hoping that he would elaborate. The man got up. "I better go talk to those boys' parents. She's not going to have a problem with them anymore. You help her." With that he left.
"Wait!" Precious called back to him, but the man didn't even look back.
"Here Precious. I'll help you up." Terry offered her a hand. "You hurt too badly?"
"Maybe a few bruises. I got mud all over my clothes."
"That'll wash out."
"But why didn't you help me? And who was that guy?"
"I can't answer those questions! Not right now."
"Why not?"
"I can't answer that either. You'll see soon."
Precious looked all around her suspiciously. "There's that noise again. Do you hear it?"
"Uh, no."
They walked a couple of blocks down until Precious walked up to a small, blue vinyl house. She pulled a key out of her pocket. "Now, you're sure that Mommy will okay with this?"
"Don't worry about it. I'll take care of everything."
"Alright." She opened the door. "She won't be here for another hour. She's still at work."
"Wow. This is your house?" Terry remarked. "This is nice, not like my house."
"Yeah, it's nice." Precious walked into the kitchen. She pulled a Tic-Tac box out of the pantry. "Grint!" she called. "Here Grint! Come here! Come Grint!" A little rabbit with an apple-cider coat came scurrying into the kitchen. "That's a good boy," Precious said as she gently petted his head.
"Grint?" Terry said. "That's a strange name for a rabbit."
"His full name is Rabbit Grint."
Terry looked at her confused.
"You know, it sounds like Rupert Grint. He plays Ron Weasley in--"
"Oh. Oh yeah! I remember. Didn't he direct?"
"What?"
"Oh, nothing."
"Well anyway, look at what Grint can do." She whispered to the rabbit, "Look here. See what I got?" She held a Tic-Tac high in the air, and Grint stood on his high legs to get it. "Good boy! Here you go!" She handed the rabbit the Tic-Tac, and Grint ate it up. Terry applauded. "Thank you," Precious said with a bow.
She then led him upstairs to her room. "Schway! I like your theme going on here."
"What did you say?"
"Oh, 'schway.' I think your word for it is 'cool.'"
"Then why don't you say 'cool?'"
"It's an old word, even before our parents. But anyhow, you must really like superheroes."
"Oh yeah! I go to Dakota every summer, so I see so many of them."
"I guess that's why Static is pretty much everywhere."
"Yeah, Static is my friend. We see each other a lot when I go to Dakota."
"Hey, I don't think I know this one," Terry said as he pointed to a poster on the door. "Who is it?"
"That's the Muse."
"Oh, so that's the Muse! I've heard of her, but I've never actually seen her."
"She's my favorite."
"Why?"
"Well, uh, she's a girl. She reminds me a lot of me. And she can do a lot of cool stuff. Oh, and there's SheBang and Rubberband Man. This is a picture he autographed for me."
"'Much Love from Above, To M, '" Terry read. "What does 'M' mean?"
"Mentor. It's a long story."
"Oh-ho!" Terry laughed. "Here we go! Batman! Schway, it's classic."
"Yeah, I met Batman last summer. He's nice."
"Nice?" Terry laughed really hard. "I've heard a lot of adjectives for him, but 'nice' isn't one of them."
"But he is nice."
"Did he save your life?"
"He saved me from the Joker."
"Well, then of course you'd see him as nice."
"But then he took me to the Batcave and gave me cookies."
"Oh. That is very abnormal. Why did he do that?"
"He had pity on me, I guess."
"I guess so." Terry inspected her bookcase. "Hmm, Harry Potter. These any good?"
"Oh yeah. They're the best books in the world, or at least the most popular."
"My mom has all seven, but I've never had time to read them."
"What do you mean 'all seven?' Does she know J. K. Rowling personally? I know there are seven books coming out, but they're not all out yet."
"Oh. Um, well, I must be a lousy counter."
"Or maybe you included the two companion books."
"Yeah, yeah that was it, the companion books." He picked up something on her bedside table. "What's this?"
Precious gasped, grabbed the Shock Box out of Terry's hand, and slammed it into a drawer. "That's a secret!"
"Then why did you have it out in the open?"
"Well, I didn't think anybody was going to come over, and Mommy knows about it."
"OK, then I'm sorry. So, uh, what do you usually do now?"
"I listen to music and wait for Mommy to come home. She usually comes bringing a snack. Hey, do you like Blue Man Group?"
"I've heard of them. I thought they were mimes."
"They are, but they're also really good musicians. You should see them in concert. I saw it on TV. I like to put the CD on shuffle so it sounds different every time."
She put the CD in the player. Then she reclined on her bed and sang along with the songs. Terry sat next to the bed on the floor, nodding his head to the beat. They didn't talk to each other, but when the song "I Feel Love" came on, Terry really got into it.
"Schway, Retrotech," Terry said.
"What?" Precious asked.
"Retrotech. It's like what they play in Dana's favorite clubs. Say, you wanna dance?"
"OK, but I'm not very good."
"That's doesn't matter. It's not about how well you do it. It's about how the music moves you. Here, I'll show you."
During the first verse, he rolled and loosened up his shoulders. Then he rolled his head on his shoulders. Then he stretched his arms over his head. Then as the chorus kicked up, he jumped around, shook his hair, and moved his head and his arms to the music. Precious laughed. "That looks like fun!"
"Now it's your turn."
"What do I do?"
"Anything. Get that energy out."
"OK. Let's see, Rock Concert Movement #1." She bobbed her head to the music. "Rock Concert Movement #2." She pumped her fist in the air. "Rock Concert Movement #3." She jumped up and down. "Now, all three at once!" She jumped, bobbed, and pumped to the chorus.
"What were you talking about? You are pretty good!" Terry said.
"You think so?"
"Yeah. Now, on this part, we dance together. So, we hold hands. Yeah, like that." He stretched his right palm over his head in a circle, and Precious's hand followed as best it could. Then they did the same with the left hand. "Your eyes are very pretty," Terry remarked.
"Thank you. And your eyes are . . . very gray."
"Kinda mysterious, right?"
"Well, it is a strange color for eyes."
He held her hands tightly and held his arm above her. "Ready?"
"I guess so."
Then she started spinning and spinning and spinning and spinning! Terry was spinning along with her and rocking out the way he was before. At the end of the chorus, Precious fell onto her bed.
"Was that fun?" Terry asked.
"I feel dizzy and out of breath."
"Yeah, it takes a few hundred times to get used to it." Terry paused. "Precious, have you ever been kissed?"
"By Mommy."
"I mean, by a guy."
"My cousin kissed me once."
Terry snickered. "He's family, though. It's not the same."
"How is it different?"
"Want me to show you?"
"You mean, kiss me?"
"Yeah."
"OK, but a small one. Not like those kisses on TV. They look so gross."
"Alright." He gave her a small kiss on her earlobe, right as the song ended. Precious was stone silent and stared into space. "So, what do you think?"
"I don't see how it's any different. It didn't feel different, but it was OK."
"Oh. Well thanks, I guess."
She inadvertently looked at a mirror hanging in her door. "That's strange."
"What?"
"In the mirror. I see me, but I don't see you."
"Maybe you're still a little dizzy, or that kiss made you take leave of your senses."
"You're saying I'm seeing things?"
"Precious!" a voice called upstairs.
"Mommy's home!" Precious said. She ran for the door, but Terry did not follow her. "Aren't you coming?"
"Later. You don't have to tell her I'm here."
"Are you sure?"
"Precious!" the voice called up again.
"Go on," Terry urged.
Precious ran downstairs. "There you are," Claire said. "Did you have a good day at school?"
"Yes," Precious answered.
"Here, I got you some chocolate chip cookies." Claire handed the cookies to her with a cup of chocolate milk. "Honey, why didn't you tell me you were being bullied?"
"How did you know?"
"Mrs. Kohler left a message on the answering machine. I need you to tell me about these things. It wasn't right for you to get beaten all the time like that."
"But they told me that if I told an adult, they would hit me even harder. I didn't know what to do. That's why I started telling them that I knew Static and Gear. If things got really bad, I was sure I could have called them back here. But Donnie and Clayton never took me seriously because Static and Gear so far away."
"I think that was brave of you, because I know you couldn't fight for yourself. But next time, please tell me. I would have gotten my schedule changed and picked you up at school more, or at least gotten a neighbor to do it."
"Alright, Mommy. I'm sorry I didn't say anything, but I was scared."
"I understand, Sweetheart."
Precious finished her snack (except for one cookie, which she was going to give to Terry) and headed back up to her room. But as she crossed into the den, something surprised her and made her stop short. "Mom, who is that?"
There, sitting on the coach and watching TV, was another man wearing a trench coat and shades. He also wore a hat that Precious had never seen before. He wasn't the same as the other guy. This one had lighter skin, and it looked like he had a hunchback. He looked toward Precious and gave a small smile.
"That's the governor, Honey," Claire answered. "He's talking about his plans for the economy. I don't know why the station thinks this is important enough to preempt 'Dr. Phil,' but–"
"No, Mommy, not on TV. Who is that watching the TV? He looks like someone from 'The Matrix!'"
"Uh, Sweetheart, I think you need to go upstairs and lie down for a while, maybe read something."
"OK." Precious returned to her room confused. Why didn't her mother answer the question?
TRANSITION
As soon as Precious was out of earshot, Claire grabbed the phone. "Sending an e-mail to Dr. Temple would probably be more helpful, but I need an answer now," she thought. Once again, she dialed the number on the ARC pamphlet. "Maybe they'll be more helpful once I let them know the situation."
"Wayne Manor," that mysterious, British voice said at the other end.
"OK, I really need to talk to an autism expert. It's an . . . well, it's not quite an emergency, but it's pretty close."
"You are concerned about tomorrow I assume, Ms. Foley?"
"Well, yes, that's part of it."
"Master Bruce is in a very important business meeting right now."
"Oh, but I don't want to bother Bruce Wayne! If you could just give the number of someone, anyone at the ARC–"
"I would Ms. Foley, if I knew who to direct you to. Master Bruce would know best."
"Alright then. When is his meeting over?"
"That depends on how negotiable his client is."
Claire laughed. "Are you Bruce Wayne's business partner?"
"No madam, Alfred Pennyworth, Master Bruce's butler."
"Oh. Well, I see where Mr. Wayne gets his charm."
"Quite. I will tell Master Bruce that you called."
"Thank you." She started writing an e-mail to Dr. Temple anyway, but before she could send it the phone rang.
"Ms. Foley!" Bruce Wayne's recognizable voice boomed on the phone. " I hear you have concerns about tomorrow. What can I do for you?"
"Mr. Wayne, I really need to speak to an expert."
"Well, what's the problem?"
Claire took a deep breath. "My daughter is seeing things."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, this morning, she said she saw a bright, green light outside the school, and I did not see anything out of the ordinary. Then just a few minutes ago she told me that there was a man in the living room watching TV. There's nobody else here. I know she wouldn't lie to me like this, so she must be seeing things. I'm worried about how this is going to affect her performance tomorrow. So, who can I talk to?"
"Well believe it or not, I am an expert of sorts. I've done a lot of research of my own. I know that the line between reality and imagination is always blurred for autistic children."
"Yes, but she usually keeps those things to herself. I think this time she really thought those things were real."
"I would advise that she be sent to bed early. She needs to get lots of sleep."
"Oh yes, I did plan that anyway because we live so far. She has a problem with sleeping sometimes."
"Give her some milk to make her sleepy."
"OK, I'll do that."
"Is there anything I can do?"
"Well, actually yes. I met these two people today. I didn't catch one of their names, but one of them was named Ira Billings. They approached me at Precious's school and tried to persuade me to send her to some special school called the Braintrust. Do you know of them?"
"Doesn't ring a bell to me."
"Something about both of them really bothers me. They just didn't feel right."
"I'll do some background checks. Don't worry about them."
"Alright, thank you. That will give me some peace of mind." She said goodbye and hung up. "Am I ever going to talk to anyone at the ARC?" she thought. She checked the clock, "Honey, it's 4:30! Time to call the guys!"
TRANSITION
"OK, Mommy," Precious called down. "Um, Terry, if you don't mind, this is kind of secret."
"I'll put my fingers in my ears."
"I would really rather if you left the room."
"Alright, I'll be outside." He got up and left the room. This time, Precious was sure he did not have a reflection in the mirror. But then again, he did go by rather quickly. Precious pulled out her Shock Box and paged her friends.
"Hey girl!" a voice came over the communicator.
"Hi Static!"
"Muse, how's it going?" another voice said.
"Hi Gear!
"Did you have a good day?" Static asked.
"A weird day."
"What? What made it so strange?" Gear said.
"Well, there was this guy that was following me. He said his name was Terry McGinnis, and he was sent to watch me."
"Did you say Terry McGinnis?" Virgil said.
"Yeah."
"That's funny. That names sounds familiar somehow, sort of like someone I used to know in school years ago."
"Doesn't sound familiar to me," Gear said.
"Well, he's weird," Precious said. "He follows me everywhere, and one of the strangest things about it, I can't stop looking at him. Even when I want to, something just draws me back in. It's very uncomfortable."
"OK, let's have a little test here," Static said playfully. "See if the following adjective is accurate for describing this Terry McGinnis."
"OK, what is it?"
"Cute."
"No! Static, babies, puppies, and rabbits are cute, not people as old as he is."
The guys laughed, "You might change your mind in a few years. It'll surprise you.
Gear took it up this time, "Let's try another one–handsome."
"Well, I guess that works. He's not ugly."
"You're growing up on us, girl," Static snickered. "I think you got a crush."
"I do not! I'm too confused to have a crush!"
The guys laughed really hard. "You don't know how funny this sounds," Static gasped.
Precious was about ready to change the subject. "How was practice?"
"Pretty sweet," Gear answered. "We both got to practice some of our biggest scenes with our, heh, 'wives.' Daisy really has a set of lungs on her."
"How about Frieda, Virgil? Did you get to do that last scene yet?"
"Not yet. She practiced wrapping a handkerchief around my head. She keeps tying it too tight."
Precious laughed this time. "That is schway!"
"Schway?" Gear asked.
"Yeah, Terry told me it means 'cool.'"
"Now, I know I've heard that word before," Static said.
"Well, you want to start practicing."
"Yeah. We'll do Act 3, Scene 3, ok?" Gear said. "Let's start where Static and I come in."
They practiced for a little while. Precious was impressed at how different the guys sounded. She just read from her parts from the book. Neither of them had any major lines. She had most of the speeches.
"But shall't be shortly?" Precious read.
Virgil took a deep breath and said in an uncommonly suave voice, "The sooner, sweet, for you."
Precious giggled. As she read the next line, she glanced out the window. Somebody was standing out there looking at her. "Shall't be tonight at supper?" she said uncomfortably.
"No, not tonight."
"Tomorrow dinner, then?"
"I shall not dine at home; I meet the captains at the citadel."
Precious looked out the window again. "Who is that? It's the man who saved me a moment ago! Who is he? What is he doing just outside my room?"
"Come on Precious, you got a whole speech here!" Gear said.
"Yeah, I haven't gotten to anything too hard yet," Static said.
"Uh, you know all this talk about supper is really making me hungry," Precious said nervously.
"I heard that."
"Should we call it a night?"
"I guess so," Gear nodded. "Hey Precious, you looking forward to tomorrow?"
"I don't know. I'm still nervous, but Terry said I shouldn't worry. He was sent from Mr. Wayne, so he should know."
"I wouldn't worry about it too much," Static said. "Just do what you do, and you'll knock them out. It's not like it's going to ruin your future."
"You think I'll be ok?"
"You're not going to have a problem," Gear answered. "Come on, you're the smartest person we know."
"Well, alright, I trust you guys." They promptly said goodbye and signed off. Immediately, Precious opened the window and yelled at that guy, "HEY, WHO ARE YOU?"
The man answered by running out of sight.
"WHERE YOU GOING? COME BACK!"
"SWEETHEART, SUPPER'S READY!" Claire called up.
Precious came downstairs to see dinner of leftover turkey and milk. "Isn't it early for supper?"
"Honey, we got a long way to drive tomorrow. The earlier we eat, the earlier we can get you to bed."
"So, I'm going to bed right after I eat?"
"Well, I do want you to get a bath. Then, it's straight to bed."
"Can I have my reading time, please?"
"OK, I'll let you have an hour of reading time after supper. It will give the food time to settle and make you sleepy."
"Thank you, Mommy."
"You're welcome. Now, will you give thanks for the food?"
"OK."
Precious ate, then went up and brushed her teeth. She looked everywhere for Terry, but she couldn't find him. She felt sad and glad at the same time to see him go. She went to her room and got her favorite book. The window was still, and she started hearing voices right outside. She recognized the first one–Terry.
"Am I the only one who's trying to stay unnoticed?"
"Hey, I can't help it!" another voice she didn't recognize answered. "I haven't seen her in twenty years! I miss her."
"I think you'd understand if you were able to see your father again," the man who saved her said.
"What's that got to do with anything?" Terry answered.
"Think about it." A pause. "Besides, I saw you bustin' a move earlier."
"Oh come on."
"You so phat, boi!"
"Stop it!"
The strangers laughed. "So, what did you learn?"
The other stranger spoke in a low voice that Precious couldn't hear very well. Then Terry spoke again.
"Yeah, I know them. That's not good."
"You have an idea what to do then?" the rescuer asked.
"I think so. So, we're just going to tell her directly about–"
"NO!" both the strangers said at once.
"We can't!" the rescuer said. "She doesn't know yet."
"Why not? Didn't you say that she found out this year?" Terry asked.
"Yeah, she does," the other stranger answered, "but she finds out around her thirteenth birthday. That's not for a while yet."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. We'd never forget that day."
"So, what do we tell her?"
Just then, Claire walked by the door. "Honey, why do you have the window open? Isn't it cold?"
"I was just listening to the sounds outside," Precious answered, thinking it was true after all.
"I don't want you to get sick," Claire answered as she closed the window.
"OK," Precious said in a disappointed tone. She went back to reading, but all the while she wondered who they were talking about. It almost sounded like they were talking about Precious herself. If that was the case, what was it that they couldn't tell her?
She had her bath and then got ready for bed. Claire came up and tucked her in. "Now, I want you to try your best to sleep. If you have trouble sleeping, go downstairs and get yourself another glass of milk, ok?"
"OK, Mommy."
Claire kissed her daughter's forehead. "Goodnight, Precious."
"Goodnight, Mommy."
Claire turned off the lights and closed the door. Precious closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on sleep. But just seconds after Claire left, Precious's bedside lamp turned on. Precious' eyes snapped open. Terry was standing by her bedside, and the two strangers were in the room too. Precious began to scream, but Terry put his hand on her lips.
"We need to have a little talk," Terry said quietly.
"Try to keep it quiet," the hunchback stranger said. "We don't want your mother to freak out."
"Who are you? Terry, why won't you tell me who these people are?"
"We will in a moment," the other stranger answered.
Precious knew there was something strange about these visitors. Then it hit her. She put her hand in front of her lamp. It made a shadow on the wall. She grabbed Terry's hand, but it didn't make a shadow. In fact, for the first time, he looked sort of transparent.
"You don't have a shadow!" She looked at the mirror and saw herself alone. "And you don't have a reflection! Are you . . . ghosts?"
"We're not ghosts," Terry answered.
"Vampires?"
"Nope," the hunchback answered.
"Werewolves?"
"Come on, if we were werewolves, we wouldn't be a danger to you," the other stranger said. "The moon's not full."
"Then . . . maybe you're not real. Maybe you're all in my imagination."
"We are real," Terry answered.
"But here's the catch," the hunchback said. "You're the other one who is aware of us."
"Aware? What do you mean?"
"You're the only one who can see or hear us," Terry answered.
"Why don't we show her, just for a second?" the other stranger suggested. He fiddled with a knob on his watch. The hunchback twisted something on his temple. Terry turned something on his belt buckled. The horrible hum Precious noticed throughout the day dwindled and stopped, and the three strangers came more in to focus. They had shadows and mirror reflections. "See?" the stranger whispered.
"Oh," Precious said as she nodded. Then the strangers all turned back on their devices and once again disappeared in the mirror. The hum came back. "How?"
"We've got special technology that sends a signal to that hat of yours," the hunchback answered. "See, there's a part in your brain that is super-sensitive, and it can interpret that signal better than anyone else's. To everybody else, we're invisible because of the same technology."
"But why me? What's going on?"
"Terry," the other stranger said quietly. He jerked his head. Terry nodded and left the room. "It's time you knew who we really are." The stranger took off his shades and revealed a gold mask. He took off of his trench coat and revealed a purple and black skin-tight uniform. On his chest was a familiar insignia of a lightning bolt crossing a circle. The other stranger adjusted his shades, and they turned clear. He took off his hat and revealed a helmet that dropped a visor over his face. He took off his trench coat, and Precious saw a uniform she knew well. She couldn't believe it.
"Static? Gear? What happened to you?"
"I grew," Static answered. "He did too, in more ways than one." He poked Gear's stomach.
"Hey, cut it out!" Gear snapped.
"Does Terry know?"
"Of course he does," Static answered. "See he's–"
The door opened. Standing there was someone dressed completely in black. Precious hadn't seen that outfit before, but she recognized who it was by the ears and the red insignia on his chest.
"Batman? But if they grew, did you . . . shrink?"
Static and Gear both burst out laughing. "She gets her sense of humor from me," Static explained to the new hero.
"The man you know as Batman has long since retired," Terry explained. "I picked up where he left off."
"He retired? I didn't know he retired."
"Well, he hasn't retired yet," Gear added. "See, we're from the future."
"The future?" Precious whispered in amazement.
"Yeah," Terry nodded. "That's why we're trying to stay out of sight. We don't want to risk changing our future or our past."
"So, why are you here?"
"Because of you," Static answered. "Something's going to happen tomorrow. We're not sure what, but we think we know who's behind it. Someone else has come here to destroy the Muse forever."
Next Episode: The Test–The three future superheroes accompany Precious to Gotham to keep her past from being erased.
