Chapter 17: The Lunch Club
Though it had taken Jenny Jordan a while to fall asleep the night before, she woke up a little earlier than usual, feeling fully refreshed. No matter what may happen today at school, (that is, whether or not she could finally get Owen Flynn to speak with her,) it would be a good day. For one thing, it was Friday – her first Friday since she began going to Stonewall Elementary. Their telephone would be connected by the time she got home from school, so she would be able to talk with her mom for the first time in days. And lastly, but certainly not least, she would see Corey again for the first time in a week, and he would be staying over until Sunday evening!
Jenny's dad had promised her that they would even get out of the house while Corey was visiting. Though money was short, the local Zoo in Forest Park was world-famous and did not charge admission. There were other things nearby to do as well. According to a brochure her father had picked up earlier, there was a Planetarium, (but it had been recently closed for remodeling,) an Art Museum and a local History Museum. There would be plenty to do. And then, there was the "something" that Corey had said that he wanted to give her and something that he wanted to tell her . . . .
Jenny could hardly wait.
After getting dressed and eating breakfast, Jenny kissed her dad, her brother, and Luna goodbye and headed off to school early. Jenny bypassed the playground, and went in by the front door directly to her classroom, hoping that Tonya would be there. Sure enough, the Quiet Bookish Girl was already at her desk, rereading "Rumble Fish," this time. But today, she noticed Jenny the moment she came into the classroom. "Hi, Jenny! Did you get to read any of "The Outsiders," yet?"
"I didn't really get a chance, yet," said Jenny. "My family is still settling into our new house." Jenny felt guilty about the last part, which was a lie. Her family pretty much got settled in the day they came. It wasn't exactly like they had a lot of stuff to get organized, after all . . . .
"Maybe you could come over to my house, tomorrow?" said Tonya. "You could start on "The Outsiders" tonight and we can talk about it tomorrow morning or afternoon?"
"I'd like that," said Jenny. Then, seeing Tonya's face light up like a Christmas tree, she quickly added, "But I have a guest coming over from my old neighborhood who will be staying for the weekend. Maybe we could do it next Saturday? I'll probably have "The Outsiders" completely read by then. Would that be alright?"
"Absolutely!" said Tonya. Jenny knew that she would have to keep that day open; come hell or high water. If anyone else in Miss Sherman's Fifth Grade Class needed a friend after Owen; it was Tonya. It occurred to Jenny that if Owen suffered from too much attention, then Tonya suffered from too little. Then Jenny had an idea. Though the change-in-subject was pretty abrupt, Jenny asked Tonya, "So, why do the other kids make fun of Owen Flynn?"
Tonya closed her book, and said, "Are you trying to make friends with Owen? I mean, it would be good if someone can do it. I tried to do that, myself, when he first got here about a week before you came. But I couldn't get him to come out of his shell. He just kept talking about his mom dying and his dad being taken away by space aliens, or something."
"Wait, space aliens?" said Jenny raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean, Tonya? Aliens like in that TV show "Galaxy Quest?" Or like that one shown earlier this year where these people came in these big flying saucers and they looked like us but talked kind of funny and were really lizards and the alien commander dislocated her jaw and ate that guinea pig, or something . . . ?"
Tonya's eyes met Jenny's as she pondered her answer. What Jenny said sounded pretty much like what some of the other kids asked Owen when he told them about what happened to his father. But while their questions were accompanied by broad grins and mocking laughter, Jenny's tone was serious and subdued. It was like Jenny really was looking for answers, but did not know precisely how to phrase her question.
Tonya knew what it was like to be made fun of. But Tonya, (who by now knew when some kid was about to make fun of her even before they knew that they were about to make fun of her,) knew that Jenny was being serious and, more to the point, concerned for Owen.
"I don't know, Jenny," admitted Tonya. "I don't exactly watch a lot of TV. But, I guess like in "War of the Worlds" by H.G. Wells? I read that one back in Third Grade. Or maybe like in those Tripod Stories by John Christopher; like "The White Mountain?" Have you read any of those?"
Jenny shook her head. Tonya continued. "Last Saturday, I had my mom drop me off at the big library up on Lindbergh. I told mom that I had to do some research for school; which wasn't exactly a lie, since Owen is in my class at school. I went through all the newspapers from Maine and Massachusetts from October 22, to the present, and looked for whatever I could find about Owen and what happened to him. I had to use the actual papers, since they were too new to be on microfilm. It took me a long time to wash the newsprint off my hands afterwards . . . .
"Anyway, what I found out is that Owen and his dad went camping in Maine and Owen was found wandering the road a few days later by the police. Owen told them that his father was being held prisoner in a town called Storybrooke by the mayor, a woman named Regina Mills. But there is no town called Storybrooke in Maine, nor is there anyone in Maine named Regina Mills. Owen led the police to where he said his father had been arrested by the mayor and the town sheriff, but there was nothing there but woods and farmland."
"What do you think happened, Tonya?"
"I don't know," said Tonya with a sigh. "I mean, it is the same thing that Owen told me. So his story is consistent. But the articles in the papers said that the police made an extensive search of the Maine woods where Owen said that he and his father went camping, and could find no trace of the Flynn's campsite, much less a town called Storybrooke."
"C-could it have been aliens?"
"Of course not," said Tonya dismissively, but not impolitely. "Personally, I've narrowed it down to two theories. First, maybe Owen and his father went camping and his father had had an accident and was seriously hurt or even killed. Owen went to get help, but was so traumatized by what had happened that he made up the story of the invisible town as a kind of defense mechanism to deal with the trauma. But the big hole in that theory is that the police and local volunteers - including the National Guard and the Boy Scouts - thoroughly searched the woods, and could find no trace of the Flynn's campsite, or anything."
"And what is your second theory?"
Tonya sighed. Even though she and Jenny were the only two people in the classroom, she lowered her voice to barely a whisper, and said, "I think that Owen's dad may have . . . ditched him and ran off with his . . . girlfriend; probably this Regina lady that he keeps talking about. Owen may have unconsciously made up this Storybrooke place as a way to deal with being abandoned. Now, this is just my personal theory, and I hope to G-d that I am wrong; but it is the simplest explanation of what happened to Owen in my opinion . . . ."
The first bell rang, and kids began filing into the classroom, hanging their coats up and putting their lunchboxes away before taking their seat. "Let's have lunch together," said Tonya. "We can talk more at recess after we eat." Jenny said that she would like that, and then took her seat as she watched the other kids come in. As usual, she saw Owen Flynn come in at the last second, just before the Tardy Bell rang.
Class seemed to drag on and on. When morning recess finally did come, Jenny and Tonya tried looking for Owen. But the boy was nowhere to be found anywhere on the playground. So the girls planned on sitting next to each other at lunch to make plans for next Saturday when the first meeting of the Jennifer/Tonya Book Club would take place.
When lunchtime finally rolled around, Jenny and Tonya stood in the cafeteria line a few kids behind Owen. Though it was a chilly day outside, between the heat coming from the kitchen and the fact that the kids wore their coats so they would have them when they went outside to play after they ate, Jenny felt like she was in a hothouse. But in spite of the heat, Tonya looked happy. Tonya had explained to Jenny that though she usually brought lunch with her, she liked to buy her lunch on Fridays, when the cafeteria served the best meal of the week.
Because Stonewall Elementary had a large Catholic population, a fish sandwich was offered as one choice with a (mystery) meat dish served for the second. Tonya, though Protestant herself, recommended the fish sandwich to Jenny, which in her opinion was at least as good as the one served at McDonalds or Burger King.
But before Jenny could reply, there was a commotion just ahead of them and Owen Flynn was at its epicenter. For some reason, Owen was crying and broke out of the line. He staggered to a trashcan, and threw-up in it amid a chorus of laughter, taunts, and kids saying, "EEEEWWWW, GROSSSS!" Then Owen wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his coat, and stormed up the steps leading out to the playground, ignoring the lunch room monitor's calls to come back.
Before Jenny knew what was happening, she realized that she was running after Owen as the lunch room monitor then called for her to stop, as well. When Jenny got to the top of the stairs, she could see that Owen had already made it halfway across the empty playground, running to its far corner to his left where a chain-link fence separated the school playground from a neighborhood of small houses. Then Jenny saw Owen slip through a small gate in the fence that she had not noticed before.
Though Jenny was vaguely aware of several adult voices calling from behind her, she slipped through the fence after Owen had gone through and found herself in the back yard of one of the homes. With Owen nowhere in sight, Jenny saw another open gate that led to the front of the house. Jenny ran through the gate just in time to see Owen heading in the direction of a small park that she had seen when her family was driving around the area the first day they arrived.
Though Owen Flynn was definitely not the athletic type, Jenny was having trouble keeping up with him, much less closing the gap between them. If anything, Owen was actually pulling away from her. Jenny could imagine that Chris or even Corey would have had trouble keeping up with Owen right now. He's running on pure adrenaline, thought Jenny as she struggled to keep Owen in sight. Now the boy charged across the street without bothering to check both ways first. Fortunately, no cars were coming from either direction, and Jenny followed him as fast as she could. Owen ran across a small field with a baseball diamond, and headed straight towards a small playground with a stone pavilion that provided shade and bathroom facilities.
What will I do if he runs into the boys' restroom? thought Jenny. For that matter, what will I say to him if I do manage to catch up with him? A second later, the first question became moot when Owen suddenly stopped and then wheeled around to face Jenny.
"WHY ARE YOU FOLLOWING ME?!" screamed Owen.
Jenny jolted to a stop, and before she could think of anything to say, blurted out, "WHY ARE YOU RUNNING?!"
For a long moment, the two Fifth Graders stood looking at each other as they caught their breath. Owen looked at the new girl who had not made fun of him like the others in class and had even helped him the day before when Chris tried to hide his clothes in another locker during swimming lessons. Owen could see concern for him on the new girl's face – a pretty face framed by dark hair in a pixie cut that would probably be even prettier if it were not flushed from running three blocks away from school grounds.
Again, Jenny said, "Why are you running, Owen? What happened to you in the lunch line?"
"None of your business!" said Owen. "I ran 'cause I felt like it, OK? NOW LEAVE ME ALONE!"
Jenny replied, "I get that you don't want to go back to school, now, Owen. But I saw a cop car coming around the corner just before we got into the park. We've got to get out of sight before they see us and bring us both back to school."
Owen looked at Jenny skeptically. "Where?"
"In that dumpster behind the pavilion! But we've got to go there now, or we will be spotted!"
Without saying another word, Jenny and Owen ran to the side of the pavilion where there was an old, metal dumpster with hinged, plastic lids. Fortunately, some Bad Citizen had dumped some old tires next to it, and this made it possible for the two children to climb into the dumpster to get out of sight. Also fortunate was that the dumpster was empty of garbage since few families had picnics in winter, even under a covered pavilion.
"Close the lid!" said Owen.
"No, leave it open," said Jenny. "If the cops drive by and see the dumpster lid open, they would not think to look for us in here!" Owen nodded. It was a good point, if nothing else. Then moments later Jenny and Owen heard footsteps and the sounds of voices on a radio. Both kids froze until the sounds faded away, but it would be another few minutes before they could breathe a sigh of relief. "We'd better stay in here for a while, Owen," whispered Jenny. "There are bound to be more people looking for us, soon."
Owen said, "So, why did you follow me? Are you some kind of maniac, or something?"
"I am from Maine," said Jenny evenly. "But we prefer to be called "Mainers;" not "Maniacs." I know that you are originally from New Jersey, right? So, if you don't call me a "Maniac," I won't call you a "Guido." Do we have a deal?" Owen nodded and Jenny continued. "So, now will you tell me why you ran away from school?"
"I – I smelled the . . . lasagna . . . and I . . . I . . . . It was what she fed us before she took my dad! It made me sick to my stomach! I just couldn't take it! I had to get out of there, fast . . . !"
"S-slow down, Owen," said Jenny calmly. "Someone took your dad? Who took your dad?"
"R-Regina . . . ," said Owen sniffling. He pulled the top of his undershirt over his face to wipe it, and continued. "Her name is Regina Mills. She's the Mayor of Storybrooke. That's the town my dad and me went camping near a few weeks ago. It was a big town, but nobody seemed to have heard of it. You're from Maine. Have you ever heard of a town called Storybrooke . . . ?"
Jenny shook her head. "No, Owen. And I've lived in Maine all my life. I'm originally from a town called Collinsport. Have you ever heard of Collinsport?"
Owen nodded, and told Jenny that he saw it on the map that he and his father used to find their campsite. "We were trying to get to the highway to hitch a ride into Collinsport after a big storm made a tree fall on our truck the night before. But that's when we saw Storybrooke.
"It was really weird. We drove through woods the day before and we never saw Storybrooke on our way to the campgrounds. It wasn't there the night we got there and then it was suddenly there the next morning! It was like something from out of "The Twilight Zone." Anyway, when we got into the town, things got even weirder . . . .
Owen told Jenny about how he and his father walked into Storybrooke and about how they met Regina Mills, the Mayor of the town that seemingly appeared out of nowhere. At first, Regina was not too happy to see them in her town; especially after Owen had sat in "Her Seat" at the lunch counter of the local diner that evening. But when Owen gave Regina a keychain lanyard that he had made the day before as thanks for letting him sit in Her Seat, her opinion of Owen and his father seemed to change, so much so that she actually invited the two of them over to the Mayor's Mansion for dinner a few nights later.
"And that's when this Regina made the lasagna for you and your dad," said Jenny; a statement not a question.
"Yes," said Owen softly.
"What happened next, Owen?"
"Well, like I said, Regina seemed really nice at first. I told her about my mom passing away earlier in the year, and how the kids at my old school treated me really weird afterwards. But Regina really seemed to understand. She said that it's like a piece of your heart is missing.
"Then Regina said that if we wanted to, we could stay in her town. She said that I could go to the local school, and that she could even get my dad a job with the town. She said that we could have a fresh start. But dad said that we had to go back to Jersey. So we got our truck back from the repair shop and we were going to go back home, but dad wanted to stop and say goodbye to Regina.
"Anyway, we stopped off at the Town Hall and dad said that he would just be a minute and that I should wait in the car. But then a few moments later, he came running out all scared like and we sped off like we were the Dukes of Hazzard with Regina and the Sheriff hot on our tail. We thought that we lost them at one point. But then they came out of nowhere just before we could cross the town line.
"My dad told me to run and get away. I didn't want to leave him, especially when I saw the Sheriff arrest him. Dad told me to run again, and then I . . . I - I ran and didn't stop until a police car came and I waved for them to stop. I told the policemen what happened, but when they drove me back to where Storybrooke was, it was gone like it was never there. The policemen said that there was no town anywhere in Maine called Storybrooke . . . ."
"Is that when you came to Missouri to live with your uncle?" said Jenny.
Owen wiped away tears and nodded. "I told everyone what had happened, but nobody believed me. But it did happen! My dad was taken away by that Regina lady!
"You know what, Jenny? I think that the people of Storybrooke may be aliens from outer space or another dimension. I mean, the town looked like a normal seaside town, but the more I think about it, the less normal it seemed."
"What do you mean, Owen?" said Jenny seriously. "How did the town not seem normal?"
"Well, for one thing, everybody was doing the same things every day. They said the same things and did the same things, but not quite like a carbon-copy of what they did and said day before. It's hard to explain. It was like the day kept repeating itself but people would dress differently and do things differently.
"It was most noticeable in the mornings. Like when dad and me went to the diner for breakfast every morning that we were there waiting for our truck to be fixed, this waitress was always arguing with the old lady who ran the place about being put on the early shift. The old woman would always tell the waitress, who was her granddaughter, that when she put over-easy on the menu, that she was talking about the eggs, whatever that meant . . . .
"But it was the same thing every morning. Then there was this old guy up on a ladder fixing a sign, and this guy walking a dog, and this really creepy looking guy in an expensive suit with shoulder-length hair walking with a cane. And that's not all. When me and dad first met Regina, dad told her that we were from New Jersey, the home of The Boss - you know who The Boss is, don't you, Jenny?"
"Duh," said Jenny rolling her eyes. "Bruce Springsteen. My dad listens to him all the time. He always plays "Born To Run" on his tape deck whenever we go on the highway."
"Well get this; Regina Mills didn't know who Springsteen was! There was lots of other stuff, too. And when dad and me were trying to drive out of town and lose Regina and the Sheriff, he told me that Regina was controlling the Sheriff by talking into some kind of red crystal. It didn't make any sense at the time, but the more I think about it, the more I think that everyone in Storybrooke are really aliens from another world.
"Like on, "Galaxy Quest?" said Jenny evenly. "Or that show that was on earlier this year about the aliens in the big flying saucers who were really lizards?"
"That show was called "V," said Owen, looking down at his hands folded in his lap. "I remember watching it with mom and dad. It was the last show on TV that we ever saw together as a family before mom died." Owen looked up at Jenny. "You know what, Jenny? Regina Mills actually reminds me of the Alien Commander on that show. You know; the one who called herself "Diana," and who ate that guinea pig in one gulp when we first saw that they were really lizards disguised as humans."
Jenny nodded. She had seen that scene with Karen and Corey. When the alien commander ate the guinea pig, she and Karen shrieked with disgust, proclaiming it to be a total gross-out. But Corey thought that it was kind of cool . . . . Boys! thought Jenny.
"Nobody would listen to me when I told them that," said Owen. "Well, almost nobody. I did speak with a reporter from the "National Enquirer." Then a short time after that, this man called on the phone and asked to speak with me. He said that his name was Mr. Vincent, and asked me if I noticed anything strange about everyone's hands in Storybrooke. Something about their pinky fingers sticking out. When I told him that their hands looked normal, he seemed relieved and wished me luck, but said that he couldn't help me and I never heard from him again."
Jenny nodded sympathetically, and decided to go for broke. "Owen, I think that I have an idea about what might have happened to you and your dad." Owen looked up sharply at Jenny – a sharpness that quickly gave way to perplexity, for as he studied Jenny's face for signs of mockery, he could see none.
"What?" said Owen intently.
Jenny took a deep breath to collect her thoughts, and said, "First, let me tell you why my family had to leave Collinsport, Maine, at a moment's notice. It will make what I have to tell you easier to understand. But first I have to have your word that you will listen to me with an open mind until I am done because what I have to say may sound unbelievable at first. But if you let me, I can prove everything that I say. All I ask is that you give me the same courtesy that I gave you when you told me about your dad. Do we have a deal?"
Owen did not even hesitate before he nodded and said, "We do."
Now it was Jenny Jordan's turn to speak, and she told Owen about how her mom and dad woke her up on the evening of Saturday, October 22, and Owen's eyes widened when he realized that that was the same date that he and his father went camping – and the day before they found Storybrooke.
"We got the call to evacuate around ten o'clock that night," said Jenny, her eyes meeting Owens. "My family - and other families like us - were told to get as far away from Collinsport as we could and to meet up at this old, abandoned hotel near Boston."
"What do you mean by, "families like us," Jenny?" said Owen slowly.
It's crunch time, thought Jenny. It's now or never . . . but how . . . ? "Owen . . . my family . . . my dad and my little brother and me can . . . we can do things - things that might seem hard for you to believe are possible. So can a lot of people that we knew in Collinsport. And we had to leave so . . . the others who just . . . came near Collinsport from elsewhere wouldn't know that we were here – are here, too . . . ."
"These others you are talking about," said Owen. "Do you think that they are they the same people who took my dad?"
"I'm sure that they are, Owen."
"What . . . what are you and your family, Jenny," said Owen. "And what kind of "things" can you do?" Owen leaned forward and gave Jenny a look that was . . . sympathetic? Understanding? Reassuring? Jenny did not know. Owen continued. "Jenny, are you and your dad and brother . . . mutants? Do you have special powers and stuff?"
"Huh?" said Jenny. "No, we are not mutants. I mean, I wouldn't be ashamed if I was and I would tell you if I was a mutant. But I'm not. I can do things – not like my dad can. It usually starts when . . . one of us is about my age. But it will be a while before I can control what I do better. My dad can do all kinds of things, though; especially if he uses his wand . . . ."
Owen's eyes widened. "Wait, his wand? What are you talking about? What are you saying?"
Jenny took a deep breath, and said, "Owen, I am a witch. My father and my little brother are wizards. My mom is a muggle, like you –"
"What?"
"We had to leave Collinsport – there are a lot of wizarding families that live in Collinsport – used to live in Collinsport. Before the Incursion from the Enchanted Realms forced us to leave so they wouldn't find out about us –"
Owen stood up abruptly, his feet making banging echoes inside the dumpster. He looked hard at Jenny, who stood up slowly. When she got to her feet, Owen backed away from her as far as he could, his back pressing against the inside of the dumpster. "Y-you're making fun of me! I knew it! You really had me going there for a while! I really thought that you cared, or something!
"Who put you up to this? Was it Lori and her skank friends? Or Chris? I bet it was Chris. That's how you knew what locker he hid my clothes in!"
"No, Owen. I'm not with any of them! I do care about you! I saw what locker Chris hid your stuff in because I saw him do it in . . . in his mind! I also got your keychain from those kids the first day I got here! I – I pulled it out of the air when they were playing keep-away! I just got so mad seeing them treating you that way that I . . . I took it from them and gave it back to you!
"I'm not making fun of you, Owen, I swear to G-d I'm not! And I'm certainly NOT friends with Lori, M'Kayla, Ashli or Chris! I can't stand those dweebs! And besides that, by running after you, I'm in just as much trouble as you are in when we get back to school. Would I risk something like that if I just wanted to make fun of you? Well . . . ?"
"I guess not . . . ," said Owen in a softer voice.
"And I'm telling you the truth about me being a witch and my dad and brother being wizards."
"What about your mom? Is she a witch, too?"
"No, Owen, my mom is a muggle, like you are," said Jenny, who then quickly added, "A muggle is someone who cannot do magic. Most people in the world are muggles. Even most mutants and meta-humans are muggles – mostly. That's because their powers don't come from magic, like ours do; like mine will in a year, or so."
"So you can't do any magic yet. That's convenient."
"But I already did magic. I got your keychain back and I saw the number of the locker your clothes were moved to in Chris' mind. I just don't have much control over my magic yet. But next year, when I'm eleven, my dad will get me my first wand and I'll be able to do much more."
"Then how come you were able to use magic with my keychain lanyard and my clothes?"
"Because I got mad and frustrated by the way the other kids were treating you. Not just by what Chris and Lori and he friends were doing to you, but the other kids who played keep away with your keychain, or laughed at you when someone else did something to you. A kid my age can only usually do magic if they are scared or frustrated or feeling some other strong emotion."
"Prove it," said Owen.
"I – alright, Owen," said Jenny firmly. Help me out of this dumpster and let's go over to the swings."
When the two kids got to the swings, Jenny sat on the nearest one and asked Owen to give her a push so she could get going. Owen said, "Alright, I believe that you are not doing this to get in good with Lori and M'Kayla and Ashli. But this isn't some kind of trick to get me to push you on the swing like I was your boyfriend or something, is it? You're not one of those girls that want a boyfriend to carry your books and hold hands with?"
"No, Owen," said Jenny. "You want a demonstration of my powers, and I'm going to show you one. But I need a push to get going."
Owen sighed and took the swing from where the chains attached to the seat. Even though Jenny was wearing her coat, there was no way that Owen Flynn would ever touch some cootie-infested girl, no matter how nice she was. "You sure that this isn't a trick to try and make me your boyfriend?"
"I promise, it isn't," said Jenny as she pumped her legs to go higher and faster. "Besides, I already have a boyfriend, sort of . . . ."
"Let me guess," said Owen dryly. "He lives in Canada."
"He lived around the block from me in Collinsport," said Jenny, her voice rising and falling from the Doppler shift as she moved back and forth. "His name is Corey. Corey Martindale. His mom is a witch, and they had to evacuate Collinsport, too. In fact, he's coming over today when I get home from school to stay for a weekend visit. You can meet him if you want to.
"But now, I want you to watch me! You want proof of magic? YOU'VE GOT IT!" Jenny let go of the swing when it reached its apogee and flew into the air.
"JENNY!" screamed Owen. But then he blinked when he saw the girl hover in mid-air for a moment, before gently coming straight down, landing so softly that her knees didn't even bend.
"Now do you believe me, Owen?"
"No," said Owen shaking his head. "There is no such thing as magic."
"But I am a witch," insisted Jenny. "How else can you explain how I just did what I did?"
Owen said, "That was pretty cool how you jumped off that swing and landed softly. But it wasn't magic. Those must be mutant powers that you just showed me. But it's alright. I understand why you wouldn't want anyone to know. But I don't care if you are a mutant. My dad always told me to judge people by how they act, not by what they are. Hating someone for being a mutant is like hating someone for being a girl or because they are black or because they are Jewish, or something, and that would be stupid."
"But I'm telling you the truth, Owen," said Jenny. "I am not a mutant, though like I said before I wouldn't be ashamed if I was one. But I'm not. I am a witch. A real card-carrying, broom-riding, house-haunting, cauldron-stirring witch! Or, rather, I will be all that and more in another year or so, when my powers mature and I actually get my wand."
Owen still looked skeptical, but then Jenny saw something a few blocks over that raised her spirits; something that should prove her claim beyond a shadow of a doubt. Jenny pointed to the Trask Industries Sentinel that towered over homes and trees several blocks away from them. Owen turned and gasped. Then he grabbed Jenny's hand and began to pull her in the opposite direction. "Run, Jenny! I've gotta get you out of here! You've got to get away from that thing before you get a liquid nitrogen bath!"
"It won't hurt me Owen," said Jenny as she dug in her heels. "It doesn't even see me. I'm not a mutant. I'm a witch. To that waste of good scrap metal, I'm nothing but a normal ten-year-old girl, if it even notices me at all! I could fly around its head on a broom once I learn how, and it won't even try to brush me away like a pesky mosquito.
"That's because what I just did was magic, Owen. Not telekinesis or some other mutant power. It was magic! It isn't genetic, or something. It just . . . it just is!"
"L-like when you jumped off that swing just now and landed safely?" said Owen doubtfully.
"Yeah," said Jenny. "And like when I got you your keychain back from those dweebs in the playground Wednesday morning, and how I got your clothes back in your locker yesterday during swimming lessons. I couldn't have done those things intentionally now even if I wanted to. But I got so mad seeing those bullies pick on you that I just . . . I just wanted to do something. I really wanted to clobber Chris for leading the others on. But I know that most boys wouldn't like it if a girl did something like that for them."
Owen and Jenny went into the pavilion to continue their conversation, out of the wind and out of sight from anyone that was undoubtedly looking for them. "We need to talk with my dad, Owen. We need to tell him what happened to your dad and call the FBS to come and help you. And I also need to tell them that I exposed Our World to a muggle. But I know they will see that I had a very good reason for what I did."
"What's the FBS?" said Owen.
"The United States Federal Bureau of Sorcery," said Jenny matter-of-factly. "That's the government agency responsible for enforcing magical laws and stuff. They also stay in touch with muggle agencies to help keep the Wizarding World secret.
"The FBS is the agency that ordered our evacuation of Collinsport when the Incursion from the Enchanted Realms came through. They said that when this town of Storybrooke appeared in the world, it set off every alarm that us magic users had, but muggles did not see it come.
"That's why we had to leave Collinsport, Owen. The FBS believes that this is because that Regina Mills lady knew that she had to hide from muggles, but may not have known that she also needed to hide from native wizards and witches as well. The evacuation was so they would not detect our magic the way we detected theirs."
"D-do you really think that this FBS can rescue my dad from Regina?"
"Of course they can, Owen!" said Jenny with a friendly grin. "They're the good guys! They'd never let him be held there against his will once they know about it. But we gotta tell my dad about this and the sooner the better!"
"Can we tell him today after school?" said Owen, his spirits lifted for the first time in weeks.
Jenny sighed. "We'll probably see him sooner than that, Owen. My dad and your uncle are probably at Stonewall right now, waiting for us in the principal's office. So I guess we'd better start walking back to school, huh Owen?"
Owen smiled sardonically, and said, "I think we're going to ride back to school, Jenny. Look behind you . . . ."
As Jenny turned around, she saw a police car pull up to them. The window lowered, and a female officer said, "Are you Jennifer Jordan and Owen Flynn?" When the two children nodded, the officer added, "Then climb on in and I'll take you back to school. Everyone is worried about the two of you." Nobody said a single word as they rode back to Stonewall Elementary. The Sentinel several blocks over was not even looking in their direction.
When Jenny and Owen got back on school grounds, a relieved teacher led them straight to the Principal's Office. Principal Burr's secretary told Jenny and Owen to sit on the chairs just outside the Principal's office. "You are a very lucky young lady, Miss Jordan," said the secretary. "Your father called a few hours ago to give us your telephone number, so we were able to reach him now, rather than send you home with a note pinned to your jacket . . . ."
The two ten-year-olds sat in silence until Jenny's father and Owen's uncle arrived about twenty minutes later. Then the four of them were escorted into the Principal's office where they sat in chairs facing the Principal's desk.
The Principal of Stonewall Elementary School, a 60-ish looking gentleman named Mr. Burr, said, "Well, children, would you please explain to us why you saw fit to leave school grounds?"
Ren Jordan brushed his hair back with his hand. It looked like a casual gesture. It was not. With the exception of Jenny and her father, everyone else in the room had frozen in place. "I can only make this spell last for about a minute or two, Jenny, so talk fast. This isn't like you to cut classes. Why did you do it?"
Jenny said, "Dad, Owen ran from the cafeteria at lunch time because he was upset and I went after him to see if he was alright. The other kids are bullying him because something happened to Owen and his father on a camping trip in Maine on the night the Incursion from the Enchanted Realms came through. He and his dad were trapped inside the Incursion when it "landed" around them. Owen got away, but his dad is still trapped inside."
Ren nodded. "Anything else I should know about, Jenny?"
"Uh, yeah," replied Jenny as she fidgeted in her chair. "I told Owen that I am a witch . . . ."
Ren nodded. "We'll talk more about this later at home. But for now . . . ." Ren brushed his hair again, and the conversation with Principal Burr continued.
After being duly admonished for what they did, Jenny and Owen went back to Miss Sherman's classroom. The other kids whispered to each other when Jenny and Owen came in and took their seats, but quieted down when Miss Sherman gave them a no-nonsense look. The classroom was unnaturally quiet until school let out, even when Miss Sherman told Jenny and Owen to see her after class.
When Jenny and Owen finally left the building, only two cars sat in the drop-off/pick-up lane; a 1980 Ford Fairmont and a 1953 Studebaker Starlight Coup. The Studebaker's hood was open, and Jenny's dad was showing off the engine to Owen's Uncle. Both men seemed to be in a fairly good mood as the children came up to them. Jenny's father was the first to speak. "I understand that you have a homework assignment this weekend, Jennifer."
"Yes, dad," said Jenny. "Owen and I have to each write a three-page paper about why it is wrong to leave school grounds without permission."
"I hear that you got off easy, sport," said Owen's Uncle. "Your teacher told us that the normal punishment for this is a five-page paper." The man's voice softened a bit, and he said, "Owen, I understand that you felt bad and that Jennifer was just trying to help. But you kids scared us.
"So, Owen, is this the last time you will ever do something like this?"
"Yes Uncle Sean."
"I'm glad to hear that, Owen. But I'm even gladder that you finally seem to have made a friend at school. Mr. Jordan says that Jenny was having problems fitting in, too. Hopefully, this is the silver lining in today's cloud.
"Mr. Jordan also asked me if you would like to spend the night at their house. He also said that Jenny has a friend coming over from her old neighborhood and that they wouldn't mind if you joined them."
"I'd like that a lot, Uncle Sean!"
"Now, normally, I would not want you to do this; especially after what you did today. And I have to admit that I am a little uncomfortable with the idea of a boy/girl sleepover at your age. But Mr. Jordan speaks highly of Jenny's friend Corey, so I am willing to take a chance. I'll give you my permission, provided that you can get your papers done at the same time."
"I will, Uncle Sean, I promise!"
Sean Flynn nodded and said, "Let's go home to get your sleeping bag, a change of clothes, and your toothbrush. Mr. Jordan gave me the address. We should be there in an hour."
Owen said goodbye to Jenny, and told her that he would see her soon. Then he drove away with his Uncle Sean to get his things. When they drove off, Ren Jordan said, "Let's get home ourselves. Corey is there waiting for you." Then, in a bad Ricky Ricardo imitation, he added, "And Jenny, you have some 'splainin to do on the way . . . ."