 
### Alora Funk

The Deliverance

PUBLISHED BY:

Stephanie Daich on Smashwords

Alora Funk

Copyright © 2011 by Stephanie Daich

Cover Design:

Amber McNemar

www.ethinkgraphics.com

Dedication:

### Thanks to my kids for being my biggest fans!

Table of Contents

# Chapter 1

The cement room–

My name is Alora Funk. I guess my story begins on the day of my liberation. Liberation from what, I didn't know.

When the authorities rescued me, I was found in a basement, cold cement walls encaging me in. My body strapped to a hospital style bed where a PICC line connected inside me. It was like an IV, but scarier, because it went through my veins and emptied close to my heart, pumping me full of chemicals that kept me in a coma. My only nourishment came from a G-tube, a device surgically placed in me, a portal for dumping in liquid-nutrients, keeping me alive.

At the time, I was thought to be around thirteen years old. Two Russians imprisoned me. Their names were Vyacheslav and Nadezhda. The neighbors said the Russians had lived there for three years and had kept to themselves. No one really knew them.

I didn't gain consciousness until a few days later in the hospital. That is where my memories began. Everything before then was black, even the entirety of my life. Only later, I would learn the details about how I was found.

In my hospital room, a pounding headache greeted me upon gaining cognition, the expanding pain felt like it was trying to rip out of my skull. I couldn't take it. It was too much as I thrashed around not able to endure the pressure. Screams burst out of my lungs which caused my throat to become raw and added to the gripping pain overwhelming me. Even though the nurses softly spoke to me, it didn't soothe me. I had no control to my actions as I hit and tore into their flesh with my nails. They strived to settle me, eventually restraining me to the bed, which only heightened my anxiety. I became a caged- monster who was fiercely trying to break free. I had no sense of right or wrong. I had no sense of anything. I was acting out of pure animal instincts. When they fully confined me, I freaked out, my innards heated up, almost exploding. I needed them to release my arms and legs.

After the doctors chemically stabilized me, things calmed. The nurses tried to make me feel special, as if they had forgotten what a vicious animal I had just been, but I was in state of stupor. Everything moved slowly. Each experience felt foreign to me yet there was also a sense of familiarity to them.

Finally the drug induced fog cleared, and I was looking at things without reconnections as to what they were. I lacked words or memories for objects, unable to understand people. I was absent of emotions only functioning on primitive reactions.

In the thick of the uncertainty, she appeared. Her name was London, a heavyset woman in her forties. She had big curly hair-well, not so much curl as it was frizz-and it was everywhere. Her complexion was light and her eyes were a deep brown, almost black.

London snuck into the hospital room one night and actually crawled to the side of my bed.

"How are you doing?" she whispered.

I hadn't discovered my voice yet. Things were still sorting out in my head. At first, speech was noise to me, uncomfortable and mostly unwelcomed, but little by little, sound formed into words and meaning. It had been two weeks from my liberation when London showed up.

She pulled herself up from the floor and sat on the edge of my bed. I must have looked frightened, because she put her warm hand over my mouth.

"Don't scream," London said. "I am not here to hurt you. I wanted to see if you are alright."

I wasn't going to scream. I wasn't afraid. I hadn't identified fear yet, but I would. I merely gazed as her pudgy hand slowly move away from my mouth. Heat lingered on my chin, making it warm. Her perfumed was overpowering. I coughed as it replaced the oxygen in my lungs.

"You aren't going to scream, are you?" she asked.

I didn't reply.

"Listen, I am not supposed to be in here. They wouldn't let me come see you, but I found a way to trick them. So here I am. I hope you are alright."

London picked up my hand in hers, rubbing it, her dry skin chafing my own. Big tears formed in her eyes and rolled down her plump cheeks. Her expression changed.

"I am so sorry. It is my fault you were stuck in that room for so long," she said, covering her face as she silently cried. When she pulled away, she had plastered a huge smile on, her teeth predominating her smile. Her brown eyes pulled me in.

"Let's not talk about it right now. I want you to know you are safe now, and I promise nothing like that will ever happen to you again. I am going to do everything I can to be able to adopt you. I want to protect you. I can't begin to know what you have been through." She almost looked like she was going to cry again.

A teal shield of light glowed around London as she talked to me. Her hands busily caressing my skin, rubbing them too much in the same spot to feel good.

I believe it was during London's first visit I noticed auras. At the time, I didn't know what the teal color outlining her body meant. After she left, I noticed how everything I looked at had hues emanating out of it. Colors seemed an extension of all things physical, being the energy attached to the mood of the object. Auras could change as people's mood's changed.

London kept talking, but I stopped listening, for she wore me out. Then, she sang to me in a very soft voice, her hand stroking my forehead. I closed my eyes and listened, the music entering my soul, calming me.

Voices could be heard outside of the room. London stopped singing and slid under my bed barely before a nurse walked in. The nurse's feet slapped against the floor on her way to my bedside. My muscles became stiff.

"How are you doing, hon?" she asked. Her aura was emerald green. I looked at her without expression. I felt nothing.

She picked up my hand, scanning the plastic band wrapped around my wrist. It was cold and cut into me. I didn't like it there, but I hadn't found a way to remove it. After her scanner beeped, she tucked my arm under the light blue covers where it warmed, and she went to the computer and typed, the sounds of the keyboard mixing with the hospital monitor's low humming. When she was done, she returned to my side with a syringe, which she connected to the IV tube in my other wrist. A solution injected into my veins.

"I am flushing out your line." Her gum smacked as she talked and worked. She pulled a new syringe out of her pocket. It was filled with a foggy substance she pushed into my veins. She returned to her computer and inputted some more.

_Bang_ came from below me.

London must have hit her head. At the noise, the nurse sharply turned to see if I was alright. I hadn't moved. She studied me for a while. I could hear London breathing heavily beneath me. The nurse must not have heard her over the buzzing of the medical equipment in the room, because she turned back to her computer. When she was done, she shut it off and exited the room.

London stayed under the bed long after the nurse departed, probably way too frightened to show herself. Finally, she slid out and looked up at me. A bit of dust clung to the right side of her frizzy hair.

"Whew, that was way too close. I don't know what they would do if they found me in here. Probably send me to jail. Can you imagine that? Me sent to jail! Just what would everyone think?"

London bent over and kissed me on the forehead. Her lips were warm and sticky as she left a wet spot behind. It became cold as the overhead vent blew air straight on me. Her teal had turned into an ice blue.

"I will try to get here tomorrow," she assured me.

London crawled to the door on her hands and knees as she looked down the hall. She searched both ways, stood up and walked out the door.

The next night -and thereafter- she returned, doing the same things she did her first visit. She jabbered on about subjects I didn't understand or care about. Sometimes she had to hide under the bed, and other times no one came in during her visit. She sang to me every night always rubbing my arm or hand. By my third week in the hospital, I understood more. An awareness of emotions developed. My senses were working while thoughts were forming. I was becoming alive.

I wasn't sure I liked London's nightly visits, but one evening she didn't come in, then I couldn't fall asleep. Unconsciously, I had grown dependent upon her kind presence.

During my time there, my mind was an empty slate. I had no memories in my head. No thoughts or identifications. By the fourth week, I experimented with talking. I didn't speak to anyone, but I would practice by myself. Although it took effort, it also seemed like a natural thing as if I had done it before. I really didn't know. I didn't know much, for I couldn't remember.

During my second month there, a group of stuffy people came to my room. They were nothing like the kind nurses or the loving London. They were all business. Each one sported a different cologne or perfume, filling my room up with a mix of obnoxious odor, making it hard to breath, practically choking me. No one noticed as my lungs rebelled, coughing so hard it hurt. Meanwhile, they talked about me as if I wasn't there. I guess in a way they were right. I wasn't there in spirit. Maybe my soul had stayed back in the cement room.

# Chapter 2

The Crisis Nursery-

I first remember feeling fear while I was being shoved in the backseat of a black van. The stuffy people had whisked me out of the hospital-not even trying to be compassionate about it- and forced me into the small space. An overwhelming terror flashed inside. Reacting to my fright, I resisted with flaring arms, swinging at everyone around me, but they forced me down while someone draped the seatbelt around me and snapped it closed.

I was trapped. I wanted it off, but I didn't know how to use a seat belt. Yanking on it, my panic level rose, nausea stirring in my stomach, my sides cramping up. Feeling ambushed, I shrilled at the top of my lungs still thrashing about. Heat filled me, burning me up. A man sat with me in the back while another crawled into the front and pulled away from the curb.

The drive was short, ending up at a brick office building. I was escorted inside where they rushed me to a large conference room. The smell was stale and unpleasant, causing me to hold my breath. In the middle, a long brown table stood. There were even more people around it. One man –who I ended up calling Mr. Scary- dragged me down into a chair then pushed it to the table. The chair was hard and uncomfortable, grinding into my thin backside. A coloring book was plopped in front of me. Someone opened a box of crayons and spread them around the book. I had no idea what they were. I didn't want to be there, but I didn't fight.

They resumed talking about me.

"I think we need to bring a psychologist in and do our own evaluation," a bearded man said.

"Why would we waste precious money doing that? The hospital evaluated her, and I am going to go by their report," a skinny lady replied.

"You know their report means squat. Let's bring a psychologist in to do a more thorough evaluation on her."

The skinny woman's face turned red, her voice lowered. "And what would that prove?" she demanded as she slammed her fist against the table. The bump startled me. "Once she is in placement, they can run tests on her. We don't want to be stuck with her too long. She needs to be integrated. She needs a routine." Her aura was red.

Mr. Scary replied, "Integrated? Routine? The child can't even speak. What kind of routine are you talking about? I agree with Pete, she needs to be tested and treated first." His color was orange.

"You think you always have all the right answers. This child needs a home and stability. Once placed in home, then we will poke and prod her if you like," the skinny lady shrilled.

They argued loudly. Soon others welled and took sides. The noise level mounted. No one stopped to see my reaction to this. Not liking it, I could feel thick animosity in the room. I didn't know how I was to react to the discomfort I felt from their display of hostility. Scared, I slid under the table and hid my ears in my hands. Anger generated around them, settling like humidity, clinging to everyone there, especially me. The emotion pulsated in me. A strong glow of orange and red intermixed from the group and encompassed around them. They all seemed to have similar auras.

Still under the long table, I glanced at my arm and noticed a gray band around my fair skin. Auras interested me, distracting me from the unsureness I felt. I stopped listening to the strangers and focused my attention on everyone's light bands of energy.

Finally, the meeting ended. Mr. Scary grabbed my arm and dragged me to his car where he strapped the seatbelt over me. I tried to resist, once again screaming and yelling. He looked around then quickly bopped me on the top of the head, leaving behind a throbbing in my skull. It had generated the effect he had hoped for, because I stopped fighting. The color around him was red for a moment, then it returned to dark orange. He climbed into the front and drove off. The meeting had wiped me out. Depleted, I fell asleep.

...

It took a bit to pull out of my sleep. About the time I really woke, pajamas were being draped over my head, soft ones decorated in pink swirls. I was in a foreign home with a strange woman. I couldn't remember how I had gotten inside. The lady was not one of the stuffy people from before. She was someone new with a presence unlike any of the people from the conference room. She looked me in the eye when she talked, even brushing her fingers against my arm and skin. It tickled and felt warm at the same time. I liked her concerned gaze, making me feel safe. Her caring nature reminded me of London. Her energy color was violet.

"Oh, you poor dear, look at how skinny you are," she said as she zipped the front of my pajamas. She wrapped her arms around me and gave me a giant hug. The embrace seemed to radiate positive feelings into me, surging around my body. It almost felt like we exchanged energy. I liked it.

"My name is Theresa." She had brownish-orange hair and was plastered in freckles on every inch of her skin. I smelled her lovely aroma, not overpowering like the stuffy people.

From a kneeling position, Theresa stood and grabbed my hand. Her touch soothed me, creating cheerful feelings in my chest.

We were on the top level of a large house. Once she had steadied herself on her feet, she led me around the upper floor into multiple rooms for a tour. Some of the rooms were littered with toys. Others were full of beds. All the walls had bright images of animals on them.

"You will sleep in this room tonight. I sure wish there were some kids around here for you to play with," she said. "You never know about this place. Sometimes there are tons of kids, and other times there are none." Theresa flashed me a smile, showing her crooked teeth. After she completed the tour of the upper level, we went down a steep set of stairs, a green carpet ran their length. She took me around the ground level, showing me the kitchen, a TV room, and another huge playroom.

"Would you like something to eat?"

I stared at her.

"Well, sure you do. Just look at how skinny you are."

Theresa sat me at an oval table then went into the kitchen. While she worked, I had a clear view of all she did.

"I hope you like macaroni and cheese," she said as she poured the dry noodles in a silver pot. Several drops of water splashed out.

While the noodles cooked, she pulled out a green plastic chair and sat by me. I looked at all of the chairs around the table. Each one was a different design. Next to the table were several highchairs still covered in dried food.

A bell jingled from across the house. I turned to see where the noise came from. A small lady had walked through the front door, lugging a baby on her hip. The lady was black and blue all over, her face battered with bruises.

Theresa jumped up and ran to her. Without asking, she pulled the baby out of the lady's arm.

"What happened?" Theresa asked with wide eyes.

The woman bawled as she said, "He beat me. He downright beat me. He promised he never would again, then he did." The woman had an icy-blue band of light around her.

Theresa held the baby with one arm, and with her other freckled arm, she wrapped it around the lady, trying to provide comfort.

"Can I sleep here tonight?" the lady asked.

Theresa gently responded, "This is the crisis nursery, but I can call the police for you, or I can direct you to the woman's shelter."

The lady looked terror stricken. "I no want de po'lice involved. I's in crisis; that's why I's here." She snatched her baby back from Theresa. The lady talked different than anyone I had heard up to that point. She fascinated me with her dialect and the way she flung her arms everywhere.

"I understand. Let me at least call the ambulance for you. We can keep your baby safe while you go get medical help?"

"Yous don't mind watching my baby?" Her fingers raked her brown, matted hair.

"That is why we are here. And you are most certainly in a crisis. Let me get an ambulance over for you."

"I has no money," she said as a bit of blood trickled out of her lip.

"No problem. We are a free service," Theresa said.

Theresa went to the phone while the woman loudly sobbed, the baby joining her in crying. I noticed before the lady started howling, the baby's aura was yellow green, but when her mom cried, the baby's aura matched the mother's ice blue color. I found it interesting as the colors mimicked each other's.

Theresa succored the woman until the ambulance took the distressed lady away. Sighing, Theresa sat in a rocker with the upset baby. I could smell something burning, and looked to the kitchen. Smoke hovered over the stove. I wanted to tell Theresa about it, but at the same time, I wasn't ready to use my words with her. She seemed oblivious to the smoky smell as she cared for the disturbed baby.

Finally-after the smoke became real thick-Theresa spotted me in the kitchen. It was then she noticed the smoke.

"Oh my," she squalled as she jumped out of the rocking chair. With the screaming baby on her hip, she ran towards me. I was already there and had picked up the pan by its scolding handle, instantly burning me. The heat seared my flesh and I dropped the pan, letting out an eerie screech, badly hurting myself. A loud clang rang out as the pan hit the floor. The hot water splashed against my arms, and legs, while the noodles flew everywhere. I yelped out in more pain as the water singed my skin.

"Oh no," Theresa shrieked. After putting the baby in a crib, she grabbed and escorted me to the bathroom where she ran my hand under the faucet, keeping it submerged for a long time. The cold water was so intense it felt like it was burning me. My back cramped from the angle I was in, but I wasn't ready to talk to her, so I endured the discomfort.

As I stayed under the chilly water, she reached high and pulled a red bag from the top of a mirrored shelf. She didn't have the best grip on it, because it slipped out of her hands and dropped hard onto my nose. A whimper escaped me as the impact jostled my nose. The throbbing radiated to my whole face.

"Oh, I am so sorry," she said as patted my nose, making it hurt worse. By then, the bag had hit the floor and some of its contents had spilled out. She scooped everything back in and fished around until she found some cream and bandages. She squeezed the white ointment out and smeared it on my wet, boiled skin. It felt oily and cool, soothing my wounds. She covered what she could with gauze.

While she dressed my burns, I closed the mirror and looked at myself. I was fairly young looking, preteen or teen, I wasn't sure. I didn't know if I was tall or short for my age since I had no reference to what my age was. I did notice I was very skinny. My cheeks were sunken in as well as my eye sockets. I looked sickly. On top of my head was straight blond hair. It was dry and very long, down to my waist. I had fair skin, but at the time, it looked rather ashen. My eyes were blue, but they looked hollow, like something was missing from them. In all truth, I felt like I had the potential to be beautiful, but I looked too sick and frail at that moment.

"I am so sorry you got burnt and hit in the nose," Theresa said as she put her dressings away. We left the bathroom and returned to the dining table where she carried over a paper she had grabbed. On it were two pictures of a body, the front side and the back side. She marked areas on the diagram where I had gotten hurt.

"This is an incident sheet. I have to record everywhere you got injured. I tried to make note of all you burns. Did I miss any?" she asked. I looked at the drawing of the bodies. I guess she had gotten them, but I didn't answer her. "They are going to kill me," she said as she finished up the paper. "I hope I don't get fired for this."

# Chapter 3

The Sanibels-

The next day, eleven more kids came and Theresa had to call in help. A large, plump woman joined her in caring for us. She was very bubbly and loved to give us giant bear hugs, often squishing me close to her arm pits and overpowering body odor. She would wrap her thick arms around me, feeling as if I was getting sucked up in her folds. I actually liked the sensation, for it was rather comforting to be so enwrapped by someone like that. Her name was Martha. She was a woman with much darker skin than mine always bragging about her southern heritage.

...

I had been at the crisis nursery for about a week when several people showed up _,_ including Mr. Scary. They had brought a psychologist along. He took me alone in one of the upstairs rooms, introducing himself as Robin. His eyes were cynical and his nose straight and long. His hair was so short, he almost looked bald. Robin had a slender body, looking like skin covered bones. He tried to play games with me. When I didn't respond, he brought out tests, placing them in front of me with a pencil. He constantly gabbed nonstop, his words getting nowhere with me. I vacantly stared at him with his emerald green aura.

Eventually satisfied, he took me back downstairs to converse with the others about me.

When I got close to the table, Mr. Scary stood up and directed me toward a very small chair. It must have been designed for a three year old, for I could hardly fit in it.

"What did you learn?" a man asked the psychologist.

"I am going to have to take this case back to my team and further evaluate it," Robin responded.

"What score did she get on the Wechsler Intelligence Scale for Children?"

"It was invalid. I was unable to assess a score," Robin replied.

"What about the WJ III ACH test?" I had no idea what Robin was talking about. He jabbered about test names that had no meaning to me.

"Nothing. This subject has not given me any indication she can process speech. I am not sure if she is mute, or maybe she has a low level of cognition. I think the next step is to have her hearing checked. I can tell she can hear, but the question is, how well? Another theory I am forming, is maybe she has never been spoken to before. I have read all of the reports. There isn't much on her."

"Well, we can't sit here all day. We must quickly make a decision, for I have to be in court in an hour for the Furgesson Case," Mr. Scary said.

"I say we place her," one man said. "This kid has been through a lot. The best thing we can offer her at this time is a stable family where she can learn, heal, and grow."

Again the arguing continued until Mr. Scary said, "Oh no, I am late for court. I am late for court!" he yelled. "Do you know what they are going to do to me?" he grabbed his large brief case and pushed away his chair.

"I am very serious, no one make any changes with the kid yet. We will wait for that test." He turned from everyone and ran out the front door.

...

Two days later, I was being shoved into the black van driven by Mr. Scary. This time I didn't fight. The drive felt never ending as we traveled on a road where all the cars were going way too fast, including us, zooming dangerously close to one another, me closing my eyes because the panic of death felt so real. Finally, Mr. Scary switched roads and we headed up between two mountains. The car slowed a bit, daring me to open my eyes again, noticing how the mountains towered over us, ready to swallow us at any moment. It thrilled me and alarmed me because I didn't trust the mountains and yet felt protected by them. Very soon we pulled into a small town named Mantua.

We hadn't gone far when the road was stopped by a reservoir. I was taken in by how beautiful the area was. Trees lined the rocky shore as grey water lapped at the edge. The community was nestled on every side by mountains, reminding me of a bowl. There were a few people fishing around the banks, casting out their lines and reeling them in. A sense of serenity filled me, relaxing me. I wanted to go to the water, but Mr. Scary turned left, and very quickly pulled into what looked like a yellow church. He parked his car parallel to the grounds and jumped out, without even bidding me to come, forgetting I didn't know how to undo my seat belt. When he reached the side door of the building alone, he had to come back and get me. Grumbling, he flew open my door and released the lock.

"Come," he mumbled as he turned his back to me and hastened to the door. Full of curiosity, I followed a ways behind him. He pounded, not letting up until the door opened.

"One knock would be fine," the man said from behind the door.

"Hello, are you Mr. Sanibel?" Mr. Scary asked. He ran his hands through his scarce, brown hair. Mr. Scary wasn't very tall, not too much higher than me. He looked rather short next to Mr. Sanibel.

"Depends," the man replied.

"Well, I am Mr. Cox from Child Protective Services, and my business is with Mr. Sanibel."

"I'm him," Mr. Sanibel said scratching his thick thigh. He was wearing a pair of boxers dangling below his knees with a dirty, white T-shirt on top.

"You don't seem like you are expecting me. Are you prepared for the delivery of Jane Doe?"

"Yes, I am- sorry. I thought you were selling Girl Scout Cookies. We have already had three different girls come by soliciting today. Must be the season."

Mr. Scary looked down at his suit, clearly offended, as if he thought he was above a father who helped his kids sell cookies. I wondered if Mr. Scary had kids. I shuddered. If he did, I pitied them.

Mr. Sanibel kept his large body filling the door frame. An easy task considering his height and mass. He had brown hair, brown eyes, and a very round belly. It was tight and almost looked like a ball was trapped inside. His color band was light blue. He stood there for a moment, almost challenging Mr. Cox. After Mr. Cox cleared his throat, Mr. Sanibel moved out of the way.

We entered what I thought was a church, except it wasn't. The inside had been remodeled into a home. It must have been done a while ago, because all of the walls and carpet were worn and soiled. We walked through a long dining area until we came to an open living room, with quaint, mismatched furniture. Although the place was tidy, the tattered furniture and stained carpet gave it a dirty feeling.

To the back of the room was a small hall. A split staircase climbed to the second floor. There was a bedroom behind the lower staircase.

"Peggy!" Mr. Sanibel yelled out. He had a hefty set of lungs, and his hollering pounded against my eardrums. I covered them, attempting to block out his sound.

A few children trickled in, but Peggy didn't show up.

Mr. Sanibel added three more decimals to his yelling. "Peggy. Woman, get in here now!"

Despite my hand placement, I thought my ears were going to explode from his volume. Some of the children in the room giggled and snickered. Peggy still didn't show up.

"Well, sit down, sit down." He motioned to the couch. "I will go see what that woman is up to." I was left alone with Mr. Scary in the strange room. Uncomfortable, I wanted to go back to the crisis nursery.

Mr. Scary eyed the faded floral couch, looking highly reluctant to sit on it, as if it would soil his cheap suit. I didn't care, so I plopped down into its scraggly cushions. I had anticipated them being fluffy, but instead the springs jabbed into my rear, sending a surge of pain through me.

Multiple kids came in and out of the room. They all seemed very interested in us. There were more kids than the crisis nursery had. I wondered if I was at another nursery.

After ten minutes of waiting, Mr. Scary seemed very restless, his legs jiggling up and down as he stiffly sat. Finally, unable to bare it anymore, he snarled, "Sanibels, I need you in here, pronto. I have other business to attend to."

Mr. Sanibel came back in, munching on a hotdog, mustard spilling down his cheeks. He looked embarrassed to be caught eating, so he shoved the remainder of the dog in his mouth. It was a huge bite, and his cheeks popped out as he overstuffed them. I had to turn away because it was revolting to watch him eat. Mr. Scary glared.

Mr. Sanibel went over to a highly stained recliner and sunk into it, madly chewing at his wad of food. "I can't find the wife. Go ahead without her," he said through the massive amount of food in his mouth.

Mr. Scary replied in disgust, "Mr. Sanibel, I can't do that. Are you wasting my time? Do you want Jane Doe, or not?"

Mr. Sanibel took a hard swallow, almost looking as if the hotdog was going to lodge in his throat. He coughed a little then said, "Fine, I will go find her." He left the room again. Within a minute, he returned with Mrs. Sanibel.

She had a head full of frizzy brown hair, flying everywhere. A flower was pinned to the side making her look foolish. She was rather plump, like her husband, but not quite as big. Something about her face seemed familiar, but I couldn't place it. Maybe I had known her before. I felt like I recognized her deep, dark brown eyes, but I didn't know how I would. She wore a filthy apron, which she wiped her wet hands on before she extended them to Mr. Scary. He lifted his chin and thrust his nose in the air, ignoring her outstretched gesture. She lingered there, waiting for him to shake it.

Mrs. Sanibel had a violet aura, while Mr. Sanibel had a dark blue one. At the time, I remember wishing I better understood the color bands. I was beginning to realize they were a reflection of the mood of a person, but I wasn't entirely sure what each color meant. Before the Sanibels, I hadn't even seen violet or dark blue. Two more colors I would eventually have to identify. Mr. Scary always seemed to be a dark orange. He constantly seemed to be agitated and mad. I had learned at the crisis nursery that anyone with light blue to brilliant blue seemed to be kind and loving. I didn't know if it meant love. During that time, I was often golden yellow, yellow, or green. I hadn't yet figured my colors out yet because I didn't know how to label my feelings.

Finally, Mr. Scary snapped at her, "Please sit down so we can get started."

Mrs. Sanibel shot her husband a wrinkled faced glance. I could tell she didn't like being snubbed by Mr. Scary. Her husband returned it with a warning in his eyes, probably telling her to keep her mouth shut and take her seat, because with a huff –as she turned to sit- her big rump smeared across Mr. Scary's face. It looked deliberate. He gasped, as if a rotten rat had just landed in his lap. I think he wanted to hurt her, maybe bop her on the head like he had done to me awhile back. She turned, giving a cheesy smile and sat right next to him, shoulder to shoulder, sandwiching him between her and I. I would later learn Mrs. Sanibel was a very bold woman, and everything she did, she did with reason. Mr. Scary slid his body away from her, coming closer to me.

He rustled through his papers, saying, "I have somewhere to be, so we are going to make this quick. Julie was supposed to have gone over some paper work with you already. Really, all I need to do is to deliver Jane Doe and make sure you have a private room for her." Several dirty kids came and sat on the floor in front of Mr. Scary. He stared at Mr. Sanibel, probably hoping he would send the kids away, but he didn't. "She does have her own room, right?" he continued when it was clear the kids were going to stay at his feet.

"Of course, Mr. Cox. We have done everything that was outlined for us. We are good and ready to take in Jane," Mrs. Sanibel said as she turned to me and gave me a friendly smile. I stared at her, without emotion.

"I need to inspect that room." Mr. Scary said. Everyone sat there for several minutes in silence, as if he had said nothing. I could tell he was beyond ready to leave. "Now!" he finally shouted.

"Oh, yeah, a course." Mr. Sanibel said. Then in his loud voice, he yelled. "Angela, come show this man Jane's new room."

"I was rather hoping you would," Mr. Scary said tartly.

Mr. Sanibel rubbed his thick knees. "Oh, the wife and I can't, because we both have bad knees and Jane's room is upstairs, but don't worry, Angela is a good kid, and she will give you a good tour." We waited several minutes for Angela to show up. Mr. Scary taped his pen on the piles of paper. Long sighs escaped his mouth.

"I really have somewhere to be going," he spat out.

"My apologies," Mrs. Sanibel said. She leaned closer to Mr. Scary and in a shrill voice screamed right in his ear, "Angela, NOW!" Mr. Scary's hands flew to his ears while he squeezed his eyes closed. Mrs. Sanibel looked at him and smiled. She must have been pretty pleased with herself.

Angela eventually came into the room. "What?!" she said with some attitude. She looked rather tall. I really couldn't distinguish ages during that point in my life, but I would learn she was thirteen. She had long brown hair to her waist. She dressed plain, but nicely, wearing a light layer of makeup, which looked pretty on her round face. Her eye were brown, like her mom and dad's. She had a light pink aura, yet another new color.

"Will you give Mr. Cox and your new sister a tour of the bedroom?"

Angela looked over at me and grinned. "That's her," she whispered to her mom, as if I wasn't there.

Mrs. Sanibel smiled. "Sure is. Can you be extra nice to her?"

"Of course," Angela replied in a sweet voice. "Let's go see your room." She looked at Mr. Scary and squinted her nose. I wondered if he looked as scary to her as he did to me. Angela turned to her mom with her eyes pleading not to be left alone with Mr. Scary. Mrs. Sanibel smiled at Angela then looked away, leaving Angela on her own.

Mr. Scary stood, but I didn't, so he reached down and grabbed my arm, pulling me up. "You must be quick," he said to Angela. "I have somewhere I must be." He always seemed to be in such a hurry.

Angela rolled her eyes and walked off. Mr. Scary followed, pulling me along. We went up the stairs and found several rooms on the top floor. All the doors were closed except one. Angela pointed into the room.

"That's Jane's room," she said. "Have fun." She left us there as she turned and ran back down the stairs.

"These people," Mr. Scary muttered. We stood in the doorway facing the inside of the room. It had a twin bed to the left and an upright dresser to the right, with most of the drawers looking broken. On the bed was a well-worn quilt with many stains. The colors on it probably had been bright when it was first made, but now rather dingy. The walls had multiple layers of wallpaper all over. The carpet was thick green shag. The room smelt stale.

"Lucky you," he said. He grabbed my arm and dragged me down the stairs and into the family room. He dropped the pile of papers in Mrs. Sanibel's lap. "My card is stapled on the top. If you have any questions, call me." Mrs. Sanibel snorted.

The Sanibel's watched as Mr. Scary left the way we had come in.

"The nerve of that man," Mrs. Sanibel said before we heard the side door close. She had said it rather loudly, surely wanting him to hear her.

"He was a little pea of a man, wasn't he?" Mr. Sanibel said in a snort-like laugh.

A little girl came over and tugged at my shirt. "Are you my new sister?" she asked. She took the back of her hand and wiped her nose on it then grabbed my hand with it. "You are pretty," she said. "Would you like to play with me?" I stared at her, for all I could think about was her slimy hand in my own.

"Jill, remember what we talked about? Jane can't talk."

"So, should I not talk to my new sister?" Jill asked with a pout. She looked a lot like Angela, but much smaller, and not as clean. Jill's clothes were badly wrinkled and somewhat soiled like Mrs. Sanibel's apron. Her color band was violet. I later learned she was seven. She seemed very happy and full of life. When no one answered her, she became more intense.

"But why can't she talk? Is she stupid?"

"JILL! She is special. She is a Child of God."

"We are all children of God, but why can't she talk?" Jill asked.

"Jill, now you are just being rude. Please stop." Mrs. Sanibel awkwardly smiled at me. She sure liked to smile.

"What am I doing wrong? I just want to know why she can't talk. There is nothing wrong with that."

"Please stop, you keep making it worse," Mrs. Sanibel said. She reached across the couch and patted my arm.

Mr. Sanibel stood up and grabbed Jill's hand. "Let's go for a walk," he said as he pulled her out of the room.

"What did I do wrong?" Jill whined as she was dragged away. "What did I do wrong?"

Mrs. Sanibel looked flustered as she turned to me. "I'm sorry about that. Kids can be kids." She then looked around the room. "Did you come with any suitcase, or any clothes?" I stared at her. My look seemed to cause a shutter come across her.

"Oh well, no big deal. We have plenty of clothes to share with you." She wrapped her arms around me, giving me a rib-breaking hug. It reminded me of the hugs I got from Martha at the crisis nursery, except Peggy's hurt because of her vice-grip lock on me.

"Let me start off by introducing myself. I am Peggy Sanibel. You can call me Mrs. Sanibel, Peggy, or even Mom if you would like. I really am a nice person, and I love kids. I will call all the kids in a minute to meet you. You are going to love it here. We are a BIG HAPPY FAMILY and we can't wait to open our arms to another member. I have eleven kids and you will make number twelve. You will meet the rest of the kids in a minute.

"I don't know what kind of life you had before you moved here. I hope they didn't beat you or hurt you. I don't want you to be afraid of us because you had a really hard past. We will be nothing like those people who locked you in your basement. We are a family, and so we will love you like you had been born here. You are now a member of our family. We are what you call foster parents. Hopefully, if you like it here, then one day we can adopt you and make it official. That will be up to you.

"We are really good people. We are Christians. I don't know if you believe in God, but we do and so you will worship with us each Sunday. Our church has a lot of activities for kids your age. You will love them.

"Mr. Sanibel works at a dairy in Logan. It's not too far from here. He keeps busy. His name is Mike. You can call him Mike, Mr. Sanibel, or Dad. I babysit during the week to bring in a little extra money. When there is a school break, other parents need a place for their kids to be watched, so I usually have almost twenty kids here, but then you add in the kid's friends, and it's closer to forty. Everyone asks me how I do it. I don't know, it comes natural. I wonder how come they don't do it. Kids are wonderful. I love kids." She talked faster than anyone I had heard.

"Let's see, what else is there to tell you? Oh, you will love it here. Mantua is a really small town. We know everyone here. You will make lots of friends. If you like to fish, then you will love the reservoir. I am sure you saw it when you pulled up. It is right across the street.

"Do you like the house? We love it. Someone turned this old church into a home. There are five bedrooms here. You are lucky because you don't have to share your room with anyone. We have three kids per room, and two in with the husband and me.

"I try to keep the cupboards stocked with snacks, but it is hard. The kids are like termites let loose on a fine piece of wood. They devour anything in sight within seconds. I don't think anyone here takes time to swallow. We have to eat fast if we want anything. It's kind of like the seagulls at the Great Salt Lake. Have you ever watched them? They swoop in where there is food and they fight and gulp it down. We are like that. So if you want to eat, then you have to dive in and grab, because if you don't, it disappears within seconds." She could prattle on seemingly endlessly.

"Hmm, what else is there to tell you? Bedtime is very strict around here. All kids are to be in bed by eight pm, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Everyone does their own laundry here. If you don't know how to, then we will teach you. Oh, that reminds me, we have to first get you some clothes. All my kids are one year apart, so you will be able to fit into a lot of clothes. Did you know I planned it to have all the kids one year apart? I wanted one big close family. I managed to do it, too. All the kids celebrate their birthdays in October. So October is like Christmas in this family. Everyone gets presents and we have one giant birthday party. It is great. Do you know when your birthday is? It would be funny if it was in October as well.

"When you first get home from school, you are expected to get your homework done. We are a close family and the kids are really good at helping each other out, so if you need homework help, go to one of the older kids. They can help you. Also, when you first get home, there is a job chart. Everyone is expected to do a job. They aren't hard."

It didn't take me long to figure out Peggy liked to hear herself talk. She also liked to brag to others about her "Great Big Happy Family!" She went on as if she was the greatest mom, boasting about the structure and organization in their home, but there wasn't. It was all words. They did have a job chart hanging on the wall, but the jobs on it didn't change and never were enforced. The kids hardly lifted a finger, and neither did the parents. I don't think I ever saw the dishes formally washed. The cupboards were always bare because the dishes were in the sink. If you needed a dish, you had to wash it before you used it. When Peggy did buy groceries, the bags would be dropped off on the kitchen floor. She would put away all the fridge items, but she never put anything else away. Everyone would dig through the bags when they needed something.

I am not trying to talk bad about the Sanibels. They were good people with loving hearts, but lazy when it came to things like cleanliness and hygiene. I am sure the town could tell what kind of people they were, but the Sanibels still talked and carried on as if everyone believed their lies.

One thing Peggy was good at, was cooking. I could always count on a huge home cooked meal. That was the only structure in the home. Everyone was expected to meet at the dinner table at 6:30. There was no excuse good enough for missing dinner time.

When Peggy had finished telling me about the rules, she decided it was time for me to meet my foster siblings. She went to a large dinner bell in the family room and clang it. The sound was loud, and I covered my ears to block it out.

"That will get them coming," she said with a smile. I noticed her teeth were very crooked and yellow. "We have trained them the bell mustn't be ignored."

The living room filled with kids, the air became warm and muggy real quick. I wanted to run out of there because it felt so confining, making my body temperature rise. There were twenty-five kids in all. I had discovered I could count while at the crisis nursery.

"All right, if you are a Sanibel, line up to the right. If you aren't, line up to the left."

The kids scampered back and forth until there was a line with eleven on one side, and fourteen on the other.

"Hey Thomas and Trent, get out of the Sanibel line and join the others," she said sternly to two boys.

"But I want to be a Sanibel," one of the boys said.

Peggy pointed to the other line. They ducked out of the Sanibel line and joined the non-Sanibel line.

"Ok, let's start from left to right. That there is Nina; six,, Alashia; twelve, Jill; seven, Christian; eleven, Angela; thirteen, Emma; ten, Joshua; eight, Elizabeth; nine, and Traydon; fourteen. Who is missing?" Peggy asked.

"Rhett is at work and who knows where Cordon is?" one of the kids replied.

"Well, there you go. This is your new family. Everyone say high to Jane."

"Hi!" all the kids bellowed out.

"Those kids over there are either kids I babysit, or friends. Our home always has kids running in and out, and that's the way I like it," Peggy said pointing to the other line.

"Are you adopting her?" a neighbor kid asked.

"Not yet, she is our foster kid for now."

"Can I be your foster kid?" another neighbor asked.

"Me too," asked another.

"Oh I wish I could adopt all of you, but I don't have enough rooms, and besides, your parents would miss you."

"Is she that girl from the news? Nina told me she was the girl they found in the cement room in Bountiful." one of the neighbor kids said.

"Now let's not be rude kids," Peggy said in a warning voice.

My head felt like it was spinning. There were too many people crammed in the room. Lightheaded, I felt like collapsing on the floor. I wanted to go to my new room and hide forever.

"Let's go see the house!" Peggy said in a bubbly voice. She swung her arms back and forth, as if we were going on an amazing adventure to see a castle. I tagged behind her as she showed me all of the rooms in the house. Although it looked pretty big from the outside, it seemed much smaller inside. When we had seen all the rooms, we went to the yard.

The outside was breathtaking, with lots of grass in the back. Surprisingly, compared to the inside, the yard was well manicured. It was a bit brown and yellow from the winter, with small patches of snow clumped along the edges. Adorning the yard was ornamental fences and little brick pathways set in the ground. I could imagine myself spending all day in the yard reading, something I discovered I could do at the crisis nursery.

When the tour ended, Peggy brought me back into the house. She looked down at the beaded watch on her thick wrist.

"Mercy me, look at the time. I gotta make dinner. Kids, take care of Jane and be nice to her." She left me with the kids while she went into her small, tight kitchen.

I felt vulnerable, being alone with all of those kids. Earlier, Peggy had compared her family to a bunch of ravenous sea gulls. At that moment, I felt they were all eyeing me, ready to take a bite.

"How old are you?" I was asked.

"Do you want to go outside?"

"Do you want to go to the reservoir?"

"Do you want to watch TV?"

"Do you want to ride bikes?"

"What do you like to do for fun?"

"What grade are you in?"

"Did they beat you in that cement room?"

"I heard you're Russian. Do you speak English?"

The kids bombarded me with questions. I didn't answer any of them. I was tired. I wanted to be left alone.

After a while, the questions stopped when everyone realized I wasn't going to answer them. At times someone would grab my hand and lead me to a room or outside. But, eventually, they all got bored of me, and I found myself alone. I wanted to hide before any of them returned, so I went to my room and closed the door.

The room was very un-stimulating, and I sat there staring at nothing. I thought about my sparse memories, wanting to cry, for I felt alone. Eventually, I went to the window and looked out onto the reservoir. Although it was small, there were a couple of canoes on it. I looked at the pane of glass, noticing how dirty the window was. The room felt old and timeworn. When I tired from looking out, I decided to lie on the bed and take a nap. I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep, but couldn't because of all the noise in the house and the little heads who kept opening my door to sneak peeks at me.

Finally, I heard the dinner bell ring. I was hungry and tempted to respond, but I didn't because it would mean being thrust into the throngs of kids again. My anxiety was stronger than my hunger. The pounding of feet could be heard responding to the call. After a few minutes, I heard Mike's loud voice bellowing my name.

"Jane. Jane Doe!"

My bedroom shook as I heard Peggy ascend the stairs. She found me on my bed.

"Oh Jane, I am so sorry you are in here by yourself. That was so rude of my kids to leave you. Sanibels are better than that. Don't you worry. I gave them a lecture, and they will never do that to you again."

What Peggy didn't understand was I liked being alone. I should have spoken. I should have told her I was fine by myself and please not to force her kids to play with me. But I wasn't ready to speak yet.

# Chapter 4

The family-

Peggy offered me her hand. I didn't take it, as if it was a poisonous snake. She clasped my hand in hers and gently pulled me up. Once I was standing, the first thing she did was wrap me in a big hug. My head was pushed under her moist, smelly armpit, but I didn't mind, because her embrace was so comforting. I didn't know much about myself, but I knew I liked touch. I wondered if the Russians had hugged me before the coma, or maybe I had always been in a coma, left alone, left untouched. When she let me go, she looked down at me with moist eyes.

"I want you to know, Jane, that I love you." It felt good to be loved. Both of our auras were brilliant blue, merging together.

Peggy held my hand and led me down to the dining room. It was huge with a line of mismatched tables pushed together. The whole family and their guests were gathered around the tables. The dining room must have been the old chapel to the church, being the biggest room of the house. You had to go from the kitchen, through the family room, to get to the dining room. They probably should have made the big room the family room, and the family room the dining room, since the family room was next to the kitchen.

Up and down the tables were dishes filled with savory food. Golden rolls, stuffing, peas, Jell-O, lemon peppered chicken legs, and salad. The clan of people said a prayer, then the gates of chaos opened. They dove in, appearing like flies covering a dead carcass as they pushed, shoved, and yelled. Within seconds the cloud of bodies dissipated, and all the food in the middle was gone, only empty serving dishes remained. I watched everyone as they ate, shoveling the food in, barely chewing it before the next spoonful was consumed. If they weren't quick enough, someone else would swipe something off their paper plate, even their spoon. The kids looked like they had learned to eat using their bodies as a shield, protecting their food. My stomach grumbled as I realized my plate was empty. I wasn't going to get anything to eat.

"Don't you worry none," Peggy said as she walked a plate of food over to me. "I gotcha covered this time. I will help you get food your first week here, but after that, you are on your own."

Peggy turned to the table and yelled out, "No one touches the food off of Jane's plate. Is that clear?"

There was no verbal response, just a lot of slurping as people concentrated on their dinner.

"IS THAT CLEAR?" Peggy screamed.

"Yeah," the kids mumbled.

I really enjoyed my dinner. Peggy was an excellent cook. The only problem was the portions were so small. I was still very hungry when meal time was over. I guess I could have told her as much, but I still wasn't ready to talk. Besides, I wasn't sure it would have made any difference. Whenever someone would tell her they were still hungry, she would bark at them, "Not my problem. I made a nice meal. Next time fight harder and get more."

After dinner, I sat in the family room. Mike, the father was already seated in front of the TV playing video games with one of the boys. They were oblivious to my presence. Meanwhile, the other kids ran in and out of the room. Peggy sprawled out in the recliner constantly proclaiming how good it felt to sit. Every now and then, she would yell at one of the passing kids to come and play with me. They would sit by me, but never say anything, stiffly sitting until they were sure their mom wasn't watching, then they would slip away. They must have been afraid of me. I couldn't blame them, for I was afraid of them as well.

Despite the constant noise, Peggy drifted to sleep, snoring loudly from her chair. I watched all the commotion around me not knowing what to make of my new living arrangements. There were too many people in the house. I couldn't tell who belonged to the family, who was a neighbor kid, or who was being babysat.

Sitting amidst the sea of uncertainty, I tried to remember my life. I was sure I had a life before the Russians. Had I come from a big family or a little one? Were there people out there who loved me and missed me? Had the Russians actually been my parents, or were they kidnappers who liked to torture little girls? If they had been my parents, why did they raise me in a cement room forcing drugs in me? Would parents really do that to their kid? Maybe Child Protective Services had gotten it wrong. Maybe I had been sick and the Russians were doctors treating me in our own home. Everyone kept talking to me and telling me how bad it was that I had been hooked up to a PICC line, but wasn't it the very same thing the hospital had done to me? Maybe the Russians were not citizens so they didn't dare take me to the hospital. I couldn't imagine they would want to hurt me. I really couldn't understand much during that time. As I was contemplating all this, Peggy awoke. She snorted with her startle, and sat up looking wild, regaining recognition to the place. She noticed me sitting there alone as Mike and the boys were yelling at the TV, engrossed in their game.

"Oh, poor Jane, no one has done anything to play with you." She turned her attention to Mike and sons.

"Mike, Christian, Joshua, why aren't you guys letting Jane play with you?"

Mike answered her without taking his eyes off the game. "Really? She can't even talk. How could she possibly play?"

"You don't know what she is capable of. Maybe you should give her a chance."

"No, no, no!" Mike said, getting angry. "I am on level ten. I have almost found the scroll. There is no way she is touching this and losing all my hard work, no way!" His fingers madly moved across the video controller.

"Ohhh," Peggy murmured. "I hate that stupid X-Box. I am going to bash that thing in with a hammer one day."

"Then I will bash in your sewing machine," Mike warned.

Peggy looked at me with pity in her eyes. "Do you like boating?" she asked, ignoring her husband's last comment.

I stared at her without saying a word.

"Of course you will like it, let's go," she said as she pulled my body up from the couch.

# Chapter 5

The voice-

We went out to a cream colored storage shed behind the house. Peggy swung its large double doors open and went in. From inside, I heard the loud roar of an engine turn on. I stood outside the shed, having to jump to the side when Peggy drove out on a red four wheeler. She parked it while talking loud so I could hear over the machine, "Hop on Jane. Don't worry about needing a helmet. We aren't going too far." Being towed behind the four-wheeler was a trailer carrying a small aluminum fishing boat. Peggy put her fingers in her mouth and let out a shrill whistle. From the back of the yard, a dark figure came running toward us. I could see its silhouette through the street light. My heart pumped hard. I was afraid of what might be headed our way. My muscles tensed as it came to Peggy's side. It was a German shepherd.

"It's my boy Taz." Peggy said as it licked her hand, then it jumped in the back of the boat. They had a German shepherd? I wondered where it had been hiding this whole time. Later, I would learn it often wandered away when it wasn't properly put in the house, bringing fear and anger to many neighbors.

As I climbed on the back of the four-wheeler, a huge gust of wind came past us, blasting through my light shirt. Being the end of March, it was still pretty cold outside. With the sun down, it didn't take long for me to feel frozen. My teeth chattered. Peggy looked over her shoulder at me.

"You poor thing, you look cold. Let me go get you a coat." She left the four-wheeler running as she jumped off and ran into the house. The cold air trapped the exhaust, and the smoke lingered above my head. It felt like all I was breathing was fumes. I instantly got a headache as I waited for her to return. When she did, she came with a thick coat, gloves, and a hat for me. I put them on. They swamped me being way too big. Peggy had grabbed a light jacket for herself and knit gloves. "I usually don't get cold much," she said as she straddled the four-wheeler.

We drove to the small ramp at the reservoir where Peggy put the boat into the water then left to park the four-wheeler. It was dark and I didn't like being left alone with the massive dog who looked like he wanted to eat me. I shivered to cold and fear. Peggy seemed to take her time.

Once we were in the boat, Taz snuggled next to me and I didn't seem to fear him as much. Peggy pulled the motor chain a couple of times until the engine kicked to life. It let out a growl, and the fumes of gasoline became overpowering. My lungs burned. Guiding the small craft, Peggy took us out to the middle of the reservoir. A small breeze passed over us, making me even more thankful for the coat. Even though I wasn't warm, it kept me from freezing. I looked up at the sky. It was breathtaking. There were millions of stars twinkling in the heavens. I tried to ignore how cold I was, enjoying the experience. The stars held a power, a presence of the sky. I felt enamored by them. Peggy turned the motor off, and as we floated there, a fine white mist rose around us from the reservoir, creating a mystical, yet eerie feeling. It was extremely silent. All I could hear was Taz panting. Enjoying the stillness, I leaned back to savor the moment. Gazing at the stars caused goose bumps to erupt all over my skin. The moment was magical. I tried to stop my jaw from shivering, because of the cold.

"Mercy me," Peggy said as she could hear my chattering. "You are freezing, and I am not even cold." She slipped the jacket off her body and draped it over me. Because it was so big, it acted more like a blanket. I nestled my entire body under the massive fabric. Its plastic helped shield the cold wind.

"Have you ever fished before?" she asked me.

Maybe I had, but maybe I hadn't. I knew nothing about my life before the hospital.

Peggy turned on an electric lantern which cast its bright light all around us, the illumination creating a feeling of serenity. Through the light, I watched her pick up a fishing pole.

"This here is a _Shakespeare Ugly Stick_. The best fishing pole around," she said.

She proceeded to teach me how to bait my pole, cast it out, and set my line. While she did, Taz cuddled into me. I enjoyed the dog's heat.

With our lines out, not much happened and I drifted asleep. At some point I awoke to Peggy hollering in joy as her line became tight, her pole bobbing.

"Mercy me. Mercy me! I have one," she hooted in delight.

She sat for a moment then reared the pole back, giving it a quick jerk. That worked, for the fish kept pulling and pulling, but it didn't get away. She had managed to snag it.

"You see, he's mine now."

She snapped the pole back several times as she reeled in her fish. When it was by the boat, she handed me a green net.

"You scoop that in there and catch that bad boy. If you don't use the net, nine times out of ten, the fish can get away as you are reeling it into the boat. We don't want to take any chances like that."

I lowered the net into the water. Some water splashed my hand, instantly freezing it. Peggy guided her pole until the fish was safely inside the net, then I lifted it out of the water. My heart sped up as I saw the silver fish reflect the light, squirming around trying to free itself. Excitement filled me.

Unexpectedly, I felt movement on my line. Enthusiastically, Peggy told me what to do. Following her advice, I waited for what seemed like forever, then I jerked my pole. It worked! I set the hook and snagged a fish. With elation, I reeled it in. Peggy was there to meet it with the net.

"Look at us, another trout, we are a team. We'll be eating fish for dinner tomorrow!"

Peggy taught me to gut my fish. I must admit, it fascinated and freaked me out at the same time. I liked seeing the insides of the fish, but I didn't know how I felt about the blood and fluids getting all over me. We ended up catching a few more fish, but I had really gotten cold and restless. I felt tired and frozen. As much as I loved the tranquility of being out on the reservoir at night, I was done. I wanted to go home, get warm, and fall asleep. I looked over at Peggy. Her eyes were closed. If she was going to fall asleep, I wished she would take us home and do it in her own bed.

Peggy finally opened her eyes and stared at me for a while.

"So, what's your story, Jane? What did they do to you? I wish you would trust me enough to talk with me. I am your friend. I am someone to trust. I so won't hurt you like they did. Maybe you have never had anyone in your life who you could trust. That is too bad, for most people in this world are good. Most parents raise their kids because they love them." Peggy lifted the lantern and locked eyes with me. "Go ahead Jane, talk to me."

I looked at her, and I don't know why I did, but my throat opened and my words came out.

"What do you want me to say?" I asked softly. I liked listening to my voice even though it didn't seem a part of me.

Peggy looked at me gently. She was smart to not overreact, for it would have shut me up. She took both of my hands in hers. I was surprised at how warm they were compared to my frozen, stiff ones. I had to stop wearing my gloves awhile back, because they had gotten wet. "What did they do to you?" she asked.

"I don't remember," I said meekly. My voice felt dry and scratchy as it came out.

"What do you remember?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing. Are you sure you don't remember anything. How about a face, a smell, a thought, a picture, or even an idea? I am sure you must have so many memories, maybe you don't recognize them as memories."

"I really don't. There are no memories."

"Well, then what is in your head? What do you think about?" she asked.

"I think about what is going on at the moment."

"Anything else?"

"Well, I guess I do have some memories." Peggy looked anxious when I said that. She probably expected I had tapped into a storage somewhere in my brain. I hated to disappoint her. "My memories only go back as far as the hospital. I think about that a lot."

"I am sure you do, child. Can you remember the cement room, or the Russians who did that awful thing to you?"

I shook my head no.

"Mercy me," Peggy proclaimed. "There is so much in my brain rattling off at any given second. I can't imagine not having anything to think about. What is it like?"

"I feel empty," I said.

"I bet you do."

"What is going to happen to me, Peggy?" I asked.

Peggy clapped her hands then held her chest. A large smile spread across her face. "You remembered my name," she said.

I shrugged. I didn't see what the big deal was.

"Well, you can join the kids to school tomorrow, if you are ready. When you came to our house this evening, school was already out. The kids get up and catch the bus at 7am every morning. Then, they come back at about 3:45 each day. So, do you think you are ready for school?"

My heart raced. The very idea frightened me. Peggy must have seen the fear in my eyes, for she grabbed my hands again. "Don't worry, dear, take your time. There are only two days of school left this week. We can have you start on Monday if it will make you feel better."

"It would," I said.

"By chance, do you know what grade you are in?" Peggy asked.

I shrugged, for I didn't even know how old I was.

"Do you know how old you are?"

I shrugged again. "I don't remember anything," I again told her.

"Well, to me you look like you are between the ages of twelve to fourteen. Who knows? It is so hard to tell with kids since they all grow at different rates and at different times. Angela is thirteen. I will send you with her, and maybe they will let you take all the same classes as her."

Peggy watched me for a moment, then she changed the subject. "You seem to speak English pretty fluently. Do you know Russian by chance?"

"I really don't know. I might," I said. "I don't know what I should know."

"Well, you seem to understand conversations pretty well. Like when I mentioned school, you knew what I was talking about even though you claim to have no memories to what school you went to, if any. Do you know how that works?"

"How what works?" I asked. I really didn't understand her.

"I think it is interesting. You say you don't remember anything, but you seem to understand the meaning of words. I think if you had nothing upstairs, then everything would be foreign to you. So I wanted to know if you knew how it worked."

I shrugged to her question, for she really had me lost.

"Okay, I know you say you don't remember anything, but I am going to keep asking you questions. Sometimes all it takes is a question from someone to open your mind. Is it okay if I keep asking you questions? Don't feel bad if you can't answer them. I am not expecting answers. I am trying to get you to exercise your mind. So, is it okay?"

I shrugged. She figured I meant yes, because she began asking questions.

"What is your name?"

I had been thinking about a name, but I wasn't sure if I should say it.

"Do you remember a face belonging to a grandparent?"

I shook my head. I wanted to tell her face seemed very familiar to me, but I didn't.

"Do you remember any sights, like flowers, trees, parks?"

"No."

"Do you remember smells?"

I shook my head.

"Do you remember where you were born?"

I shook my head.

"Oh, this one is important. Are your Christian?"

I rubbed my head. "Please, I don't think this is working. It is making me sad and making my head hurt. Can we stop this game for now?" I pleaded. I looked in my lap, avoiding her eyes.

Peggy pulled me into a hug, her folds molding to my sides. "I am sorry, Jane. I don't want to make this hard on you. You are right. I was pushing you too hard. If you ever remember these things, you will probably do it in your own time."

"Can I ask a question?" I asked.

"Anything."

"You asked what my name is, but you call me Jane. Is Jane not my name?"

"Well, it might be, but probably not. Jane Doe is like a code name they give to all the people who don't know their own names. For boys, they call them John Doe."

"I don't like it. Do I have to keep it?" I asked.

"Well, I suppose you don't," Peggy replied.

"Can I change it?" I asked.

"Well, I suppose you can. What would you like to be called?"

"Alora Funk." I said.

"Alura...what? Oh Mercy me, why that name of all names. I don't even know if it is a name."

"You said I could pick my name."

"Well, yeah, I was thinking a traditional name like Heather, or Laura. You might even look like a Jen. Does any of those appeal to you?"

"This transitional phase is hard enough in my life. Don't you think I would adjust better if I had something I could be proud of, something I could call my own?" My sentence was awesome as I pleaded her, but I hadn't crafted it on my own. It was a sentence I had heard one of the stuffy people from Child Protective Services use in an argument about me.

It worked. Peggy looked impressed as she replied. "I am sorry; if you want to be named Alora, then by all means go for it, don't let me get in your way," she said very sincerely.

Back in the hospital, when I started understanding words, people were always asking what my name was. Every time they did, the name Alora Funk seemed to pop in my head. For some reason, it was the only thing really feeling like it belonged to me.

I now had a name, a real name, not some stupid one Child Protective Services tacked onto me. I was building my identity and I loved it. My name was Alora Funk. I was thirteen with long blond hair.

Peggy looked at her watch, "Mercy me," she said. "It's almost 1am. We gotta be getting back. I gotta get up early in the morning. Since you aren't going to school, I guess you can sleep in."

Peggy turned the motor on, and we headed back to shore while Taz dozed with his head in my lap.

# Chapter 6

The waiting-

The next morning, all the Sanibel kids went to school. They were quickly replaced by kids who Peggy babysat. She really didn't keep an eye on them, always lounging in her recliner watching day time television all day. She was nothing like the babysitters at the crisis nursery. At the Sanibel's, the kids constantly ran in and out of the house, up and down the stairs, and she paid them no attention. At the crisis nursery, the babysitters gave the children all of their time and attention, vigilantly making sure they were safe and well watched. After observing Peggy, I decided she would have no idea if one the kids wandered across the road to the reservoir and drowned. I probably should have helped her out, but I figured if she didn't care about the kid's safety, then why should I?

I didn't talk at the house. I had decided I wasn't ready to share my voice with anyone else, for I knew they would ask me too many questions. When Peggy talked to me in front of everyone, I didn't answer. She never forced me to speak around the others, even though she knew I could talk. I was thankful she respected me like that.

That evening for dinner, we had a feast of fish, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, and homemade rolls. While we were eating, Peggy did something I wasn't expecting. She told the kids my name.

"Kids, we are going to start calling Jane, Alora."

"Alora, that is an awful name," Alashia said.

"Yeah, who came up with that?" another of the kids said.

"I am not going to tell you yet where it came from," Peggy answered. My stomach felt warm as I knew I could trust her. She respected my desire for silence.

"What if she hates it," Angela said, staring at me. I kept stoned face. I didn't want to give any emotion away.

"I think she will like it," Peggy said. It was rather uncomfortable having everyone talk about me as if I wasn't there.

After dinner, the older kids went to an activity at their church. I would later learn there seemed to always be an activity at their church. They spent a lot of their free time going there. They asked me if I wanted to come, but that was a big no.

After the kids left to church, Peggy came to me and asked, "How about you and I go fishing again?" I didn't answer her, but she knew I wanted to go.

I really wasn't sure if I liked fishing or not. There were some parts I enjoyed about it, like the thrill of feeling a fish on the line and trying to reel it in without losing it. It excited me when I got a fish bigger than Peggy's fish, for she would carry on so long about it. I didn't like putting the worm on, for I hated the brown gooey slime coming out of its body. I especially didn't like how it would cake under my nails. I detested gutting the fish. But, the best part of it all was going out on the boat and having Peggy to myself. She seemed to open up, almost becoming a completely different person. I adored the Peggy on the boat. I also loved the enchantment of being out on the water when only the moon and stars were out.

We drove the boat to the loading spot, and she put it on the water. That night we caught three fish. In between catching the fish, there was a lot of silence. Peggy didn't seem to mind, as she stretched out and closed her eyes. She must have been tired from a long day of watching TV.

After the first hour on the boat, I decided to talk again.

"Do you like having so many kids?"

Peggy flipped open her right eye lid, as if she thought it was the stupidest question ever. "I adore kids, adore them." I wondered why, since she didn't seem to do much with them.

"I am pretty sure families are usually smaller than yours, aren't they?" I asked. I am not sure where my frame of reference came from, but it seemed like it would be the case.

"Yeah, the average family has one point five kids and a dog." Peggy patted Taz, then said to the dog, using her high voice. "Yes, every family should have a doggie." Taz eagerly wagged his tail, making the whole boat shake. I clutched the sides, scared we were going to tip, but thankfully, we never did. Taz went up to Peggy and licked her face. Peggy let out a hardy laugh.

"Our religion views children as a gift from God. We believe the foundation to a good nation is a strong family. We are encouraged to have children. Now, there are only few families who have as many as we do, and I am not sure why, because being a mom is the greatest thing in the world. So I don't understand when people only stop at one or two. Most of the families in our church have two to six kids. I would feel empty if I only had six kids.

"We had always planned on having twelve kids. I am not sure why that number is so appealing to me, but it is. After Joshua was born, I had complications and lost my ability to have any more kids. It hurt to think I wasn't going to have twelve. I got a little blue about it, but then I decided to sign up as a foster parent. So maybe God didn't want me to have a twelfth kid, because he wanted me to open my home to you."

I didn't know what to say. It seemed kind of silly to me, but she seemed to believe it. I also found it weird how she would be depressed over not having twelve kids. I sure didn't know what it was like to be a mother, but I could imagine I would be depressed if I had as many kids as she did.

We talked some more until she said, "I promised Mr. Sanibel I wouldn't keep you out as late tonight." She looked at her watch. "Mercy me, it is 11:30pm. How about we bring our lines in and call it a night?" I really didn't want to leave. Being out on the reservoir was the only place I could find peace. Since moving in with the Sanibels, it was the only time during the day I wasn't overloaded with constant noise.

...

The next morning, the Sanibel kids left to school while the babysat kids came over. During the coming and goings of each group, there was so much noise in the house with siblings quarreling among each other, babies crying as they watched their parents leave, battles for bathroom time, and brawling for breakfast. With everything going on, my anxiety level rose. I could feel my heart speed up as my nerves felt jittery. To drown out the loudness, Peggy turned her morning news up. She seemed calm and relaxed as she tuned out the world around her, never getting up once to help her kids get ready for school. Sometimes, she would meet the parents at the door who were dropping off their kids, but usually it was one of the Sanibel kids answering the door and carrying a screaming toddler in. There was a reception area where the parents didn't see the rest of the house. After the Sanibel kids had gone to school, the babysat kids ran around the house screaming, fighting, playing, and crying. Peggy took a break from her precious television to fill bowls of cereal, quickly returning to her chair. As the day progressed, she transitioned from morning shows, to soap operas. She really had no idea what was going on with the kids. The atmosphere of chaos became too much for me, and I couldn't take any more of it, so I went outside.

A feeling of repose settled on me as I left the house. The air was chilly and still. At the moment, there were no sounds to be heard, not even the sounds of birds. It was nice to have such peace. As I looked around, trying to decide what I wanted to do, the reservoir across the street caught my attention. A light fog hovered above it, grey waves lapped against the rocks. I wasn't sure if I had Peggy's permission to wander away, but the reservoir had put a spell on me, like it was calling my name and pulling me to it. Before I could stop myself, I was across the street and had climbed down the giant boulders to the water's edge. A chill ran up my spine as the nip cold afternoon met me.

Standing on the rocks, I could see the wind create ripples in the water. In the daylight, everything was different. To my right, a group of brown and green ducks floated on the water. I wondered how they were not freezing as I pulled my sweater tighter around me. They swam away, trilling out beautiful sounds. I scanned the area, able to see more in the light of day. I enjoyed looking at the trees across the way and all the little homes surrounding the water's edge. It was so brisk. I shuttered to the cold as I noticed smoke billowing out of some of the chimneys. The air smelled of smoke, creating a serene atmosphere. I let out a sigh as I relaxed and picked up a handful of rocks and skipped them along the water's edge, while I did, my mind naturally turned to the situation I was in. I sat down and thought about my life.

Where were my memories? I tried to conjure them up -anything- but it was blank. I had a slate with barely anything written on it. I strained my brain, trying to remember being a baby, or any small part of my life, but nothing came. Dark, depressing feelings entered me where memories should have been. I wanted something previous to the hospital. When several hours had passed, I stood up ready to return to the house. I scaled up the rocks and onto the dirt trail. I let my eyes follow the path around the reservoir, wondering if it went around the whole body of water. The yellow house was behind me with Peggy inside, rotting in her chair. She wasn't looking for me. She probably had no idea I was gone. Forget about Peggy. She didn't care what I did. I walked around the water. Freedom expanded on my insides as I made my own choice.

The whole area was placid and harmonious. I discovered the pathway did go around the reservoir. When I had circled the entire thing, I headed across the parking lot back to my new home. I was right, Peggy hadn't even noticed I was gone.

...

Later, the kids came home from school. It was the weekend, making them extra wild. Boisterously, they ran around, making as much noise as humanly possible between their fights and horseplay. Eventually, Mike returned home and plopped himself in front of the TV and started a video game. When Peggy tried to protest it, he got after her.

"You want the TV? Really, isn't that all you do is sit on your fat hinny and watch TV all day?"

"Doesn't matter what I do. _Honey Booboo_ is going to be on, and I really don't want to miss it."

"Honey Poopoo," Mike said, laughing at his joke. Peggy frowned.

Despite her icy glares, he kept playing his video game, leaving Peggy with nothing to do but watch him from her chair. She eventually got up and went and rang the bell. The loud clanging hurt my ears as I covered them. Mike seemed oblivious to the discord as all the kids came running in. As his soul attention was on his game, grey light surrounded his body. I did a head count. There were thirty one kids crammed into the family room. In Peggy's own words, "Mercy me!"

"Guess what night it is?" Peggy called out in delight.

"PIZZA NIGHT!" everyone except Mike sang back.

"Did anyone bring anything to donate?"

A few of the neighbor kids happily displayed their contributions. There was a packet of pepperoni, a 2liter of root beer, and a wilted green pepper.

"Good, good," Peggy responded.

Since there was but room for only two to three people in the kitchen, Peggy went in it alone and filled up a cart full of fixings for making pizza. With her loaded cart, she passed through the family room and went into the dining room. All the kids gathered around the tables, helping to make the pizzas. As they did, I could feel a connection of unity. Even though little fights broke out, their activity drew the family close. Most everyone there had a violet aura. Even though they had all started with different auras, the more they worked together, the more the colors changed, running and mixing together. A large violet aura encompassed over everyone, bursting toward the ceiling.

The pizza process ended up taking almost three hours. When the pizzas were eaten, everyone gathered into the family room and a movie was put on. After the movie, only a few kids went home. Most of the neighbor kids spent the night, with the youngest being four. When I had gone to my bedroom to sleep, I found three kids in my bed, and two on the floor. I was bothered to have them in my room, but what could I do? One of my blankets had slipped off the bed and was lying on the ground. I picked it up and walked around the house, trying to find a place to sleep. All of the couches were taken, and all the spots on the floor were occupied with little kids.

Frustrated at having nowhere to sleep, I grabbed Taz and took him outside to the shed with me. Earlier, I had noticed a cot out there. I had intended to take the cot inside, but it was so peaceful out in the shed. I felt it was a sliver of the universe where I didn't have to share with anyone except the dog. I repositioned the cot and climbed on it pulling the blanket over me. Unexpectedly, Taz jumped on me. There wasn't room for him, but I let him stay, for he seemed to like me, and I figured he could keep me warm.

Despite the weight of the dog, I quickly fell asleep. The next day was Saturday, and I swear, even more kids showed up to the Sanibel home. Did none of the other kids in the neighborhood have homes to play at? Since I couldn't handle any more racket, I spent as much time outside as I could. Exploring Mantua, I walked the small streets, pleasantly surprised when I came to the Happy Elm Camp Ground. It was such a cute little spot full of tents and trailers. I slowly walked through it, watching all the friends and families enjoying one another's company. I wondered if I had ever gone camping before. It sure looked fun. Maybe the Sanibels went camping.

I spent much the whole day outside despite the frigid air. It was dark when I got home, only returning because my hands were numb and blue, and I wanted to get warm. Hot air met my face as I walked through the doors, with no one noticing my return. Peggy was snoring away in the recliner like she often did, a pool of drool glimmering on her left chin. Mike was parked in front of the TV playing video games, only pausing long enough to yell at the kids.

My stomach growled as I observed Peggy and Mike in the family room. I realized I had missed breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I knew how their family ate. There would be nothing left. No passed over scrap waiting for me. With an empty stomach, I went to go upstairs. As I passed Peggy, she woke up with a huge gasp of air. She looked frantic as if she had no idea where she was, but she soon calmed down. Rubbing her eyes, she noticed me.

"Hey, do you want to come with me?" she asked. I hoped she was offering to go to the reservoir with her. I didn't answer. She slowly stood as a few of her joints creaked. She moaned and stopped moving, her hands rubbing various spots on her large body. When she stood straight without grimacing, she went to the closet and pulled down coats and headed outside. Trailing behind, I wasn't disappointed because she went to the shed and moved the cot aside. Then, with the four-wheeler, she pulled out the boat. Taz jumped into the boat, and I hopped on the back of the four-wheeler.

...

After an hour of fishing, we hadn't even had one bite on our poles. Disappointment gloomed within, but Peggy didn't seem to care that we hadn't caught anything. Soundlessly we sat there until Peggy finally broke the silence.

"Do you believe in God?" Peggy asked me.

I thought about her question. I wondered if I should answer, or stay mute. I hated answering questions about my past. I was wordless for a few minutes, then I decided to speak.

"I don't know what I believe. Should I?"

"Well of course you should," Peggy replied. "God is your father and he gave you life."

There was silence.

"Do you believe in prayer?" she asked.

I wanted to be sarcastic with my answer. If I didn't know if there was a God, then why would I pray to one? But instead, I shook my head no.

"God loves us so much, that he expects us to talk to him. That's what prayer is. You are simply talking to your Father in Heaven. Have you noticed our family likes to pray? We pray for all meals, in the morning before work, and at night before bed."

I had observed how they prayed before meals, but I think she was mistaken about any other time of day. Mornings and nights were so chaotic. I hadn't seen them pray as a family. I had noticed during their meal prayers, it was the only time during the day there was peace and silence in their home. I surely would have recognized if they were praying more.

"I want you to do yourself a favor. I want you to try prayer out. Experiment upon it. Tonight, before you go to bed, get on your knees and pray to God. Ask him to help you get your memory back." She stopped and thought for a moment. She shook her head. "Well, maybe that isn't the best prayer to say. Maybe your childhood was horrible and God doesn't want you to remember it. Maybe not being able to remember anything is His gift to you. Okay, never mind what I said. Instead pray to discover who you are and to be at peace with it. And then during church tomorrow, I want you to focus on all the talks and lessons and see if you can find God."

Whoa, she was asking a lot. "Do I have to go to church tomorrow?" I stammered. That didn't sound appealing.

Peggy hooted out loud. "What do you mean, 'do I have to?' You get to, it's a blessing to be able to go to church, and besides, right now, you are a Sanibel. All Sanibels go to church."

My stomach dropped. I really wasn't ready for that in my life.

When we were done fishing, the boat and four-wheeler were returned to the shed. My blanket was still on the cot.

"Can I sleep out here?" I asked.

Peggy shuttered, "There are spiders in here. Maybe you should come inside."

"I slept out here last night."

"Suit yourself," Peggy said. She walked away from the shed then returned. She wrapped her thick body around mine and gave me a hug. It felt good.

"Have a good night," she said kissing the top of my head, then she returned to the house.

I watched Peggy go inside then I closed the shed door and laid on the cot. Taz climbed on me. Quickly, we fell asleep.

# Chapter 7

The Sabbath-

The next morning started out early because they had church at 9:00am. Peggy had come to the shed and dumped me out of the cot at 7:30am. Tired, I followed her into the house. As soon as I went in, I could hear yelling. Standing there, I couldn't believe how much fighting there was, even more than a school day. To escape the noise, I went into the kitchen to find food. Nothing was out. Since I had missed eating on Saturday, I was famished and no one seemed to be eating. With my stomach screaming at me, I went and found Peggy. She was alone in a bathroom doing her hair. No one was around, and I decided to use my voice.

"Can I have breakfast?"

"Oh no. Today is Fast Sunday."

I must have looked puzzled, because what she said made no sense to me.

"Oh yeah, I forget, you're not a member. Fast Sunday is the first Sunday of the month when we skip two meals and give the money we would have spent on meals to the poor. Also, fasting makes us grow closer to the Lord. We use this time to pray and meditate." She turned away from me and continued to run a hot air curling iron through her thick, brown hair. I don't know what she was trying to accomplish, because she seemed to be making it frizzier. As she got ready, I noticed her color band was brilliant blue.

My stomach churned. I hadn't eaten anything Saturday. My last meal had been two slices of pizza and a bread stick on Friday night. I felt sick from starvation. I couldn't imagine how being hungry made me draw closer to the Lord. I couldn't fathom missing any more meals. I wasn't part of their religion. Why couldn't I just eat?

"You are making me nervous staring at me," Peggy said as she turned to look at me. With her hand, she pulled a chunk of frizzed hair through her curling iron. "Go get your dress on."

"I don't have one."

"Alashia?" Peggy screamed so loud, causing my ears to ache. Alashia didn't show up after a few minutes, so Peggy called out even louder, "Alashia, I know you can hear me. COME HERE NOW!"

I covered my ears but they still hurt from Peggy's yelling. Peggy went back to curling her hair. A few more minutes passed until Elizabeth came into the room.

"Elizabeth, where is Alashia?" Peggy asked.

"I don't know. Can I have some breakfast?"

"No! It's Fast Sunday. Go find Alashia for me."

"But I am hungry."

"Fast Sunday. Now go get Alashia!" Peggy barked.

Peggy finished her hair and Alashia still hadn't shown up. "I guess we must find her ourselves," Peggy grumbled as she pulled the plug out of the wall. The air was warm and I could smell the electrical heat coming off the curling iron.

Peggy pushed me aside as she left the bathroom. I followed her to Alashia's room, where Alashia was still in bed.

"WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING IN BED?" Peggy screamed. "We leave to church in fifteen minutes!"

Alashia sat up as her eyes partially opened, seeming to be glued together. She rubbed them on her sleeve. She must have not been moving fast enough, for Peggy ripped her covers off and threw them on the floor.

"GET UP NOW AND FIND ALORA A DRESS! Then get ready yourself." Peggy again pushed me out of the way as she stomped out of the room.

When her mom had left, Alashia went to her closet and looked in. There wasn't much hanging in it. Surely, they never hung clothes in their house. Finding nothing, she went to her drawers and rummaged through them. Coming out empty, she shimmied under her bed, staying under there for several minutes, pushing things out on either side of her. Finally, she emerged with a green and black dress. After I had put it on, I thought it was a little too small on me, but no one else said or offered anything else. It looked awful on me, full of wrinkles and having a horrid smell about it. I didn't like the way a dress felt, and I wondered if I had ever worn one before.

Church was long and dragged on for what felt like forever. There were three meetings and they all lasted an hour each. I was very uncomfortable because they talked about all sorts of terms and words which had no meaning for me. I didn't understand their jargon.

On the way home, the oldest brother Cordon was complaining about how long church was. I silently cheered him on.

"It really is a pleasure to be able to go for three hours," Peggy responded to Cordon.

"Well, I still don't like it," Cordon grumbled.

"Don't say that. One day you will. One day you will cherish it," she said as her eyes got moist.

"I doubt that," Cordon replied.

I had to agree.

...

After church we didn't eat either. We had to wait until dinner. I had actually gotten pretty weak and famished with the lack of food. A massive headache felt like it was ripping my skull apart. I went up to my bed and slept until dinner came.

Dinner was magnificent like always with its beef roast, potatoes, mushrooms, squash, two Jell-O salads, and three pies; apple, cherry, and peach.

"Did you know we grew all the fruit in the pies?" Peggy said to me as she took a massive bite of cherry pie. The whip cream slid off and landed in her lap.

"Oh heck," she said as she wiped at it with her napkin. Once her lap was clean, she turned back to me. "Of course, we aren't in season for them yet. This is all fruit I jarred and processed on my own. I believe in being self-sufficient."

She acted like she was trying to impress me, but I wasn't. I didn't really understand her, nor did I care if she was 'self-sufficient' or not. What I cared about was getting another piece of pie. Thankfully, she had sliced the pies up into little slivers and shared them evenly; otherwise I know I wouldn't have gotten one. I wished she would do that with all the food.

...

During the night, Peggy took Taz and me back on the reservoir.

"How did you like church?" she asked. My stomach dropped. I really didn't want to talk about it.

"It was long," I honestly replied.

"Did you do what I asked you to do?" I wasn't sure what she was talking about.

"Did you pray with your fast?"

I didn't want to disappoint her, but I really wasn't interested in talking about religion. I had already had three hours of it. "Do you mind if we don't talk about this?" I asked shyly.

Her eyes got big. "Oh, of course not. Personal revelation is between you and the Lord."

All those funny words she used. I didn't know what she was talking about, but I am glad she left the subject alone.

Although we could enjoy being out on the boat, 'for bonding purposes', Peggy wouldn't let us fish, because it was Sunday.

"God made the world in six days, then on the seventh day he rested. It is an actual commandment that we don't work or play on Sundays. This is a day to remember and observe the Lord."

# Chapter 8

The school-

When we pulled the boat back in the shed, I set up my cot.

"Oh sweetie, I can't let you sleep out here."

"Why? I like it?"

"Because, it is a school night." Another sentence I would hate to hear.

I wanted to argue, but I wasn't ready for confrontation yet. Instead, I reluctantly dragged my blanket in and went to my room. The heater was turned way up and the house was stifling hot. My lungs felt constricted as I tried to breath. I really wanted to be back out in the shed.

Eventually in my bed, I fell asleep, despite the heat. The next day came too early. I had a lump in my stomach. I wasn't ready for school. In fact, I was frightened. I was fearful the school would discover how I didn't know anything. I was scared they would realize I was dumb. It terrified me to think about interacting with the kids. They had all probably heard about me on the news. I didn't want to go.

Angela supplied me with an outfit. It was so dingy and ugly. She probably gave it to me because she wouldn't wear it herself, going to school looking like a dork made me even more anxious.

While I put on the horrific outfit, the rest of the family was fighting and arguing. They all seemed to be in a grumpy mood. While I was stuffing my feet into the small shoes Angela had given me, the bus drove by and honked.

"We gotta go," Angela said grabbing my hand. I only had one shoe on. Getting up, I had to carry the other shoe as I ran behind her. The bus stopped two houses up from us. Traydon, one of the older brothers, shot out of the house and beat us to the bus. He was fourteen. I trailed behind Angela up the stairs and onto the bus, following her to the back seats. She squeezed next to a friend, then looked up at me, and very snottily said, "Oh sorry, no room." Holding my one shoe, I looked around and noticed every seat in the back was full. I ignorantly stood there, not sure what to do. The kids started shouting at me to sit down, but I didn't know where to sit.

"Hey, girl, you must sit down before I can move. Come get a seat up here," the driver called to me. She was a very large, dark skinned lady, with smooth skin and a pile of hair on her head. Embarrassed, I walked toward the front of the bus. When a seat came open, I dove into it and slumped down. The driver threw the bus into gear, the bus jerking a couple of times as it went forward.

I felt like a complete idiot as I slouched in my seat, trying to hide from everyone. I could hear the kids whispering about me. I wanted to turn invisible. The bus drove out of the canyon and to the neighboring Brigham City. It dropped us off at an intermediate school called ACYI, meaning Adele C Young Intermediate School. The school only had sixth and seventh grade.

Since I was in the front, I got off the bus before Angela and Traydon. I stood by its door and waited as Traydon flew by me, hurrying into the school. I continued waiting for Angela. She took her time getting off, surrounded by a gaggle of girls. She looked bothered when I fell in line behind her, jabbering with her friends until the bell rang. I felt awkward and wanted to run and hide. I noticed in my awkwardness, I was still holding the one shoe as my foot froze in the wet sock.

"We got to go," she said yanking my arm. "We are late. This is not the class to be late in. I am not really sure where you are supposed to go. Why don't you come to class with me?" she offered.

I followed Angela, her acting as if I wasn't there at all. In the classroom, the kids stared at me.

"Sit there," Angela barked as she pointed to the only open seat in the front of the room.

"You are late, Ms. Sanibel," the teacher grumbled. He had an orange color band around him. He pointed at me. "Who's that?"

"My foster sister. She's new."

"She's not supposed to be in this class."

"Yes she is," Angela said.

"You need to go to the office and bring back a paper letting me know you are on my role," he said to me.

Angels stood up, "I'll take her there," she said.

"Not so fast, Ms. Sanibel. You do belong in this class, so you better take your seat."

"But she doesn't know how to get to the office," Angela said.

"I am sure she can figure it out."

"But she is stupid," Angela said.

The class laughed. My head spun, for I had all the embarrassment I could handle. I was going to vomit and there was no stopping it. With the acid rising in my throat, I turned around and found a trash can. I ran to it just in time as the puke flowed in. My muscles contracted violently. The acidic sludge came out my mouth and nose, burning both of them. The class groaned at the noise and smell. The teacher looked like he was going to flip out.

"Take the trashcan and get yourself to the office. And for you Ms. Sanibel, if you ever try to play games in my class again, I will send you to the office as well."

I wrapped my arms around the basket and went into the hall. Confused, I looked up and down it, but I had no idea where to go. I wanted to escape and return to Mantua. My hands were on fire. Maybe I would go take a walk around the reservoir. It would be far better than staying there. Lost, I strolled aimlessly until I made it to the office. When I walked in, I think the smell of my puke-can hit the secretaries' noses. They all looked up in disgust.

One of them ran to my side and snatched the can out of my hand. "Oh, you must be sick. You can go lay down on the bed until your mom comes and gets you. What's your name and whose class are you coming from?"

I stared at them. I didn't want to share my voice with them.

They tried all efforts to get me to speak, but I wouldn't. Eventually, they got scared and thought I was having a stroke or something. They put me in the sick room and made a call to the nurse. While I was on the bed, I could hear them talking about me.

"Look on the trash can's side. It should have the teacher's name on it."

"Oh, there it is. It says Mr. Miller."

"Give him a call."

I heard a speaker open up. There was static popping noises. They were talking to him through some sort of system.

"Mr. Miller, what is the name of the student you sent to the office?"

I could hear Mr. Miller reply, "She certainly is not a student of mine. If you intend for me to have her, then you need to send her back with the proper paperwork."

"She has one of your cans. Aren't you the one who sent her?"

"She tried to sneak into my class without the proper paperwork. After she violated our breathing air, I sent her to you to straighten out this mess."

"Well, the problem, Mr. Miller, is we can't get her to talk. We are worried about her. Does anyone know who she is?"

"Ms. Sanibel claims to be her sister. She said she was stupid. I am supposing she means she has special needs." I could hear Miller say.

"Ms. Sanibel doesn't have a sister at this school," the secretaries said.

"I don't know. This is your problem, not mine. Can I now return to my lecture?" I could hear Mr. Miller growl. More static popped over the system.

"Will you please send Ms. Sanibel down?"

"Yes."

I tried to rest. I had never felt so stupid in my whole life. At least I didn't think I had. Forthwith, I heard when Angela came into the office.

"What's going on, Angela?" they asked her.

"This is my new foster sister."

"Well, why is she here?" a secretary asked.

" _To go to school!"_ Angela replied, tartly.

"She can't show up to school. There is paperwork she must do. What is her name?"

"I am not really sure. It is either Alora Funk, or Jane Doe."

"Alora Funk? Jane Doe? You don't know her name. This sounds rather unlikely. What is going on here, Angela?"

"If you don't believe me, ask my mom."

"Where is your mom?"

"At home on her butt."

"Why did she not bring your 'foster sister' in and register her? Surely Mrs. Sanibel understands how the system works. She has plenty of kids to know these things."

"Like I said, she is on her butt watching TV. It would take a fire to get her out of her chair."

"Okay, Angela, you can go back to class."

"Must I?" Angela replied. "I can't stand Mr. Miller."

"Angela, please don't talk bad about our teachers."

"Sorry."

I rubbed my head as I listened to their conversation from the sick bed.

"Hey, wait a minute, Angela. We can't get her to talk. The nurse had to be called in from another school and is not here yet. Do you think something is seriously wrong with her?"

"Nah, she is just stupid."

"ANGELA!"

"No really, she is. Do you remember hearing the story on the news a couple of weeks ago about the kid they found in Bountiful who was in a cement room and drugged up? This is her."

"No way?" a secretary replied in a shocked voice.

"Jane Doe. It's what they called her in the news," Angela said.

"Thank you, Angela, get to class."

There was whispering among the secretaries after Angela left. Then I heard one of them on the phone.

"Peggy Sanibel, we need you to come here right away. It concerns Jane Doe."

...

I lay in the sick room for what seemed like half the day. Finally, Peggy showed up. The secretaries chastised her pretty hard for sending me there without even as much as a heads up to them. They told her before I could return to school, she would have to go to the district office and get me registered. Peggy dragged me out of there like an angry bull. She hated being taken away from her precious soaps. Angered, she drove to the district office, which wasn't very far away. There they told her she would need a copy of my birth certificate, my immunization records, and my transcripts from my previous school. She tried to explain to them my situation, but they wouldn't listen.

"So what you are saying is Alora can't go to school without a bunch of silly, useless papers? You are actually going to stop a child from receiving her education over red tape? I can't believe it. I thought this was America. You let immigrants in to our schools every day, and they have none of those things. But my foster daughter can't go to school. That is rich, rich."

"I am sorry Mrs. Sanibel, we have policies here. I didn't write them. Don't get mad at me."

"Oh I'll get mad. I'll get mad at all of you. I don't have time for this today. I have important things I am supposed to be doing right now, but instead I am stuck here fighting for a free education, promised to me by my government. Paid for by my taxes."

I almost laughed when she said she had important things to do. The only important thing she did all day was make dinner, and that was still hours away. When Peggy could see they weren't going to budge, she stomped out of there. She was so mad, actually foaming at the lips with little bubbles of spit spilling onto her chin. Her aura was almost the same color of orange as Mr. Scary had, not as dark.

Still irate, Peggy drove me home. It wasn't until we went inside, I realized she had left all the young kids she babysat back at the house, alone. I couldn't believe she left such young kids, appointing the five year old in charge. When we got in, she didn't even do a head count. She mumbled under her breathe as she sat in front of the TV, returning to her beloved soaps. When it became apparent she wasn't going to give me any direction, I left for a walk to the campground. I really liked it there. Since it was Monday, there weren't any campers around.

I sat at a picnic table the rest of the day, thinking about things, but there wasn't much for me to put my mind on. I replayed my few memories over and over again, trying to recall the trapped or lost memories, but having no success. Darkness settled on me, my stomach grumbled. I was so hungry, I decided it was time to walk home. As I entered into the house, I could smell the savory scent of sausage. Passing the dining room table, I could see I had missed dinner. My stomach growled as I realized I had also missed lunch. I wasn't eating much since I moved in with the Sanibels.

Peggy was still sour from not being able to get me registered at school. She didn't offer to take me out on the reservoir. She sat in her recliner mumbling and growling at each little infraction one of the kids made. My stomach screamed as I headed to bed. Another starving night in the Sanibel home.

"Hey, Alora," she said as I walked up the stairs. "Don't plan on going to school tomorrow. Child Protective Services has to straighten out your registration with the school."

I was alright with that.

The next day, I tried to sleep in, but it was hard to do with all the sounds of kids getting ready in the morning. I finally came down after the kids left. Weakness made it hard to walk. I needed food. I went into the kitchen to see if there was any breakfast. Peggy called from her recliner, "Don't bother about breakfast. You missed it. If you sleep in, then that is the consequence."

Her words were harsh and uncaring. I felt lightheaded and had to sit. When the feeling passed, I stood back up. I didn't have anything to do, so I sat across from Peggy in the family room. She was engrossed in her soaps, not even looking up to say hi, still wearing her torn flannel pajamas. There were many stains on them, plus they were so frumpy, making her look double her size. As she zoned into the TV, I noticed her color band was grey. The color made me feel uncomfortable. I didn't want to stay there for long. What I really wanted to do was go back to the campground. I really liked it there. It was peaceful and my soul seemed to align with nature, but I didn't dare leave, for I couldn't afford to miss lunch. Waiting for lunch, I sat on the couch, drifting to sleep a couple of times, but then jerking back awake. Finally, at 1:00pm Peggy made soggy macaroni and cheese. It didn't taste good, but I was ravenous, and I wolfed it down. It barely satisfied my hunger pains.

After lunch, I headed to the campground, then changed my mind, knowing if I went over there, I would become distracted and probably miss dinner again. I decided to stay a little bit closer. I walked across the road and the parking lot to the reservoir. Scaling down the giant boulders, I sat next to the water. It was really cold as large snowflakes fell, floating down in their brilliant designs. I studied them until I became too cold and had to return home. It was 3:00pm when I went into the house. I didn't know what else to do, and I wasn't about to sit with Peggy again and watch soaps. Bored, I went to my room and took a nap until the dinner bell awoke me.

...

Thursday morning, I slept in, awaking to Peggy screaming at me, "Why are you still in bed? The bus comes in fifteen minutes and you aren't even dressed." She turned and stomped out of the room. I couldn't believe she had expected me to be ready for school when she hadn't even told me I was going. I looked at my clothes pile. I only had about four different things to wear. Everything was dirty. I picked out the least dirty outfit and slipped it on.

As I was leaving the house to get on the bus, Peggy stopped me. "You aren't riding the bus today. I guess I have to waste my time and take you and make sure Child Protective Services registered you." Angela had warned me the previous evening how Peggy became extremely crabby whenever she had to do real work. According to Angela, Peggy was so lazy she rarely left her day time TV. She said the only real work Peggy ever did was make dinner. I was seeing what Angela meant. It didn't make sense why Peggy was so ornery to take me to school and fill out my paperwork.

Grouchily, Peggy drove me to school. Her color band was red as she sped down the canyon. She yelled each time she got stopped behind a slow driver. She didn't seem to have an ounce of patience. Again, she left the little kids she babysat behind. I bet their mothers would have killed her if they knew what type of babysitter she was, leaving their kids unattended. Peggy played the part of a competent caregiver to the parents. When they picked up their kids, she would always brag about how exceptional their one kid was. "If only all the kids were as great as yours," she would say. She was such a fibber. She did have an easy job, because she didn't do anything. There was a small alcove by the front door. She would have the parents wait for their kids there. They always seemed to be in a hurry, so they didn't mind not venturing past the alcove. She never brought them into her home. They probably would have died if they saw how messy it was.

...

After she had parked, we went to the front desk at ACYI. Peggy handed over a piece of paper and said, "Alora is ready for school. I did all of your requirements." She didn't even wait to hear what they had to say. She turned her back and walked away.

"Wait!" a secretary called after her. "Let's make sure she is registered before you go. There are fees you have to pay. Plus, you might want to help her pick some of her classes."

"Fees? I thought the government promised us a free education."

"Mrs. Sanibel, you paid fees for Angela and Traydon. It's the same thing."

Peggy flung her checkbook out of her gaudy purse. She studied their fee sheet. Moaning and carrying on, she scribbled out a check using a chunky purple pen.

"What is your foster kid's name?"

"Alora Funk."

The secretary typed the name into her computer. "Are you sure you registered her?" she asked. "I can't find an Alora Funk."

"Well, I didn't actually register her. Child Protective Services had to come and do it. Please hurry. I have important things I need to be doing."

"I don't know what to tell you. Alora isn't in our system. Give me a minute and I will call the district and see what is going on."

Peggy took a piece of paper and picked her teeth with it. "Oh, you won't find her under Alora. Child Protective Services gave her the name of Jane Doe. Try that."

The secretary searched for it. "Oh phew, here it is. Jane Doe."

"She doesn't want to be called Jane. Her name is Alora Funk," Peggy interjected.

"Not according to our records. See here, it says Jane Doe."

"I know what it says, but that isn't her name. It was a name Child Protective Services gave her because they didn't know what else to call her. She was rescued from a horrible situation. All of this is pretty scary to her; the new school, a new family, everything. The least you could do for her is to let her have her name."

The secretary rubbed her forehead. You could tell she was sick of Peggy. She glared at Peggy, raising her voice an octave. "We have to go by what we legally have her registered as. If you want it changed, then have Child Protective Services change it. Otherwise, there isn't anything we can do."

"That's horse crap," Peggy said. "You have no idea what this child has been through. Give her one thing she can call her own. Her name. I bet you like your name. What if I started calling you Fanny, instead of Lacey? Would you like that, Fanny? I feel this poor child has nothing. She came to me without an identity, without a history, and without possessions. She has since told me the only thing she has is her name, and I want to make sure she is able to keep it."

"Please, Mrs. Sanibel. We aren't your enemy here. All we are trying to do is our job. There are policies and we can't change them. It is not in our power. If you want her name changed, then Child Protective Services will have to do it."

"That's horse crap," Peggy growled again.

"Listen, most of our teachers here are pretty easy going. Jane can tell them..."

"It's Alora," Peggy snapped.

"Jane, Alora; she can ask them if they would use a nick name on her. Most will do that."

Peggy threw her hands up in the air. "Alora doesn't talk."

"What do you mean she doesn't talk?"

"What I said was pretty simple. She doesn't talk. Well, she can, but she won't. Can you let her teachers know?"

"I am sorry Mrs. Sanibel, we can't. Jane will have to do that."

"I tell you, it's Alora, and even still you call her Jane. What's wrong with you people?"

There were several kids sitting in the office. They seemed to be getting a kick out of the ruckus Peggy was making. I wanted to hide.

Another secretary came over to help ease the tension. She decided on a diversion tactic as she handed me a paper. "Alora," she said to me, using my name. "Would you like a quick tour of the school?"

"She doesn't talk," Peggy growled. "And of course she would like a tour of the school."

"You have several kids here, Mrs. Sanibel. Would you like to give the tour?"

Peggy looked at her phone. "Mercy me, look at the time. I really have to be going. Are we done yet?"

If the secretaries were done or not, I am sure they were more than ready to send Peggy on her way.

"We are fine. If you need to go, then please do," the second secretary said.

When Peggy left, all the people in the office shot each other looks. I am sure they were dying to talk about her, but probably restrained from it since I was there.

"Before your tour, why don't you visit with the counselor? She may have some things you need to do first." She called LeAnn over.

"LeAnn, I have a new kid for you. Stella should have sent you an email with her background in it. You really will want to become familiar with her story."

"Sounds good." LeAnn took me back to her office, a tight room with a desk and a bookshelf full of thick textbooks. The air was stuffy and smelt a little off. I sat across her desk as she took her seat behind it.

"Tell me about yourself," she said. I stared at her. LeAnn spent the next twenty minutes trying to build a rapport with me, but she wasn't getting anywhere because I wasn't talking.

"Okay, I read you can talk, but I guess at this time you are choosing not to. I hope one day you will trust us. Anyway, what I want to do is run a series of academic placement tests on you. I want to find the best classes for you."

When I didn't say anything, she stood up. "Follow me," she said as she led me into a small room, having four desks in it. She plopped a stack of papers in front of me and a pencil.

"Don't stress it too much. You aren't getting graded on this. We want to see where your abilities are; how much you know. If you need anything, stick your head out and call for one of us."

I stared at the test as she left me alone. I looked at the first problem. It was a mathematical equation. In fact, the next four were as well. I had no idea what to do with them, so I put my head on my test and took a nap.

At the end of the day, LeAnn congratulated me for doing such a good job. She should have looked at the blank test before opening her mouth. She led me to the bus, and excitedly told me I would start classes the next day. I got on the bus. As I tried to sit in a seat, kids would growl at me and tell me there was no room. Eventually, the bus driver called me up to sit behind her. The kids laughed at me. I hated school.

...

The next day, when the bus dropped me off to school, LeAnn was in the parking lot waiting for me. She guided me to her office.

"Sit down, Jane," she said. I sat. Her office stunk. It was hot and LeAnn looked at me as if she was trying to think of what to say. Sweat trickled down my chest.

"What happened? You turned the test in blank. You haven't done one problem. I don't think you realize how important that test is. We need you to do it today and do your best. I know I told you it didn't matter much, but it really does. Do you think you can finish the test for me today?" I stared at her.

She took me to the same room and returned my blank test and pencil. I treated the day the same as I had the following one, sleeping it away. LeAnn hadn't learned. She never once came and checked if I had done any work, not even when she had brought me my lunch. At the end of the day, the bell rang and I excused myself to the bus.

...

When we got home, Angela grabbed the mail out of the mail box.

"Hey Alora, you have mail. No fair, I want mail," she said as she tossed an envelope at me. It was addressed to Jane Doe.

I hid the letter in my backpack as I went into the house. I didn't want Peggy to see it and read it before I had a chance. I don't know why I worried. She didn't even look up from her TV when we came in. As quietly as I could, I walked by her recliner and went up the stairs. Once I was alone in my room with the door closed, I brought the letter out. I noticed it had a strong perfume smell to it. I opened it up.

Dear Jane Doe,

This is your friend from the hospital. Please don't tell anyone about this letter. I just wanted to see how you were doing. I feel responsible for you and just want to make sure everything is alright. I would like to meet with you Monday at the store there in Mantua. I can't remember its name, but there is only one small convenience store there. I will meet you there as soon as you get home from school. Please don't tell anyone about this meeting. I will explain to you later and you will understand why we must do it in secret.

-Your friend from the hospital.

...

The letter made me a bit nervous. Was it a trap from one of the Russians? Why must it be kept a secret? I thought about telling Peggy. If she thought it was a good idea, then I would go to the store on Monday. Most likely, the letter was from London, the lady who visited me each night when I was at the hospital, but what if it wasn't? I hid the letter under my mattress and went down to talk to Peggy.

She was sitting in her recliner. Jill was standing at her side holding a book.

"Please read to me, Mommy."

Peggy didn't even look at her as she brushed her aside. "I can't sweetie. Mandy is about to find out her husband is dead. I have been waiting for this all week," she said as she kept her eyes glued to the TV.

Disappointed by her mom, Jill walked away with tears in her eyes. At that moment, I despised Peggy. Sure, she was a good woman for opening her doors to me, but I hated how despondent she was with everything. She always was bragging at what a good mother she was. But was she? She hardly interacted with anyone. It seemed like TV was more important to her than anything. I decided not to tell her about the letter.

# Chapter 9

The outdoors-

After a stressful day, it was calming to find myself back on the water with Peggy and Taz. If nothing else went right in my new world, at least I had those serene moments. During my reprieve, I had pushed a pink worm onto my hook, when a clump of black and red goo squirted onto my fingers. I was getting more tolerant to the worms innards, and I had started wiping it off on my clothes like Peggy did. It's funny how we can become appalled by someone's actions, then being around them enough, find we are becoming like them. I felt like being with the Sanibels was morphing me into a slob.

I hoped I wouldn't fully turn into a Sanibel, for they were a disconnected family in my opinion. Living there, I felt misplaced along with the stress of going through life without an identity. I watched as Peggy's children would play and interact with each other. Each one of the eleven had their own personality, knowing exactly what they wanted and how to manipulate and make things turn out for them. They understood each other intimately having the abilities to make one another happy and the knowledge of how to tick each other off. When they were willing to, they worked well together. Upon entering their house, everything felt only like chaos, but not to me, not anymore. Sure, at first the Sanibel family really scared me with their overwhelming noise, but after studying them, I saw other things. I saw networks and alliances, hustling and power plays. At times, I saw a great deal of compassion dished out. There were also good virtues like patience and understanding. Even though I loved Peggy, there was a great deal of apathy and even neglect from her and Mike towards their children, but not to the point one would call Child Protective Services on them. Just low enough to go under the radar, but ample enough the kids felt it and reacted to their disappointment in their parents on each other.

Despite their negligence, I was luckier than the others, because most nights, Peggy took me out on the boat. I cherished my time with her. After being silent all day, it was nice to talk. At first she guided our conversations, but each time we went out, I got better at initiating direction. I had often wondered why she chose me to give her free time to. I was tempted to ask her, but I was afraid if I did, the attention would stop. I could see why meal time was so important in the home, for it was one of the only times they talked and paid attention as a family unit.

As I evaluated their dynamics, I cast my line out. We had developed a pattern on the boat, fishing for an hour before the conversation started. That night while I fished, we were getting close to the hour mark, and I had only caught one fish. Peggy had caught two. Fishing was so inconsistent. At times, we couldn't keep up with the fish we were pulling in. I had started hiding the fish I caught in the freezer in the shed. There was an electric skillet out there and whenever I was hungry, I would go to the shed and fry up a fish. I had learned to do it by watching Peggy cook fish. No one seemed to know I was doing it, and I preferred it to stay that way. It sure beat starving all the time.

Peggy let out a lazy yawn. "This is the life," she said. The conversation had begun.

"Sure is," I replied.

"The school called me after you got home. Do you have any idea what they would be calling me about?"

I stared at her. When she asked a question I didn't like, I would usually stare.

"They told me you didn't do your test. You had been given the opportunity to work on it for two days and you produced nothing. Alora, why aren't you doing the tests? They said they are very important."

I stared. At the time, I didn't know why I wasn't doing them, but I just couldn't.

"Oh well, I guess we move forward. I had to explain to them in great detail what you have gone through. I told them you were probably still in shock and you needed time to recover, how it must be hard to start living with a new family and a new school. They decided Monday you will start with a schedule and they will gage it from there. Does that sound alright?"

I shrugged.

"Well, I can see talking about this is not making you feel good, so let's talk about something else. Did you know the school offers clubs? There are all sorts of fun clubs. Band clubs, orchestra, writing, choir, and chess clubs, and even others. I am sure anything a kid your age is interested, they have a club for it. It may be good for you to find something you like and join a club for it."

Hadn't she said we were done talking about school? Since I didn't know what I liked, there was no way I wanted to join a club. Plus, it would probably involve talking to other kids.

"All of my kids play an instrument. It is a Sanibel requirement. I would like you to pick out an instrument when you are ready. It builds discipline and character."

What did she know about discipline?

"The church is a great way for you to make friends. You can meet them on Sunday at church, then they always have activities during the week. There is a large group of good kids your age there. They will be very kind and accepting of you. They are of everyone."

I didn't want friends, not yet.

We sat in silence for a moment.

"You are kind of quiet tonight, Alora. Is there anything you want to talk about?"

I hesitated. There was something I was anxious to ask her. "Can you take me to Bountiful and show me the house they found me in? The people don't live there anymore, right?" I looked at my hands, afraid she would say no.

When she didn't answer, I peeked my eyes up. It was hard to see Peggy's facial expressions in the dark, but I could sense she had gone stiff. "Why would you want to do that?"

"Well, I have been thinking, maybe I wasn't always drugged up. Maybe something about that house will open my memories. Maybe there are certain smells in it that will trigger something for me."

"You have been thinking about it. I guess it could be arranged. I won't take you there. I hate driving on the freeway. Driving really isn't my thing. But, at some point, we will see you get up there."

Peggy's line went tight. "Oh Mercy me, I got a fish." She yanked her pole and set the hook. "Alora, get the net ready."

...

When we got back, it was about 1am. I was frozen to the bone. Peggy started taking a propane heater with us. It helped a little, but I still got cold. When I went to my bedroom, I found it full of neighbor kids sleeping over. Our house must have been the only home in Mantua where kids played at. I was glad my bed was full of kids, that way, I could go sleep in the shed. I knew it would be cold, so I gathered all my blankets off the sleeping intruders in my room. Taz followed me to the shed. I was surprised at how quickly it got warm out there between the dog and the heater. I had a nice night's sleep.

Soccer season started Saturday, and most of the house cleared out to either play or watch it. Even the parents left. I really didn't want to waste my Saturday watching kids play soccer. Peggy tried to talk me into joining a team, but I wasn't ready to make friends. The Sanibels were enough new relationships for me for the time.

After they had left, I walked over to the campground, which had a few campers in it. The smells of bacon, eggs, and sausage lingered below the trees, causing my stomach to growl and my mouth to salivate. Everything smelt so good. Breakfast had been a meager bowl of cereal. I slowly walked around the campground, almost lingering at each site. I loved watching the people lazily sit about and enjoy the morning. Everyone was bundled in several layers of clothing. They passed around hot drinks and kept warm. The kids would be wild, running around and getting chastised by their parents. Some people had card games set up. The one thing I rarely saw was frowning. Sure, a parent would frown at a misbehaving kid, but then they quickly returned to their smile. Everyone seemed to be smiling. Maybe that is why I liked it there so much. Everyone was smiling. Their joy created a feeling in me that was hard to explain. It was interesting too, because it seemed at the campground everyone shared the same color band of brilliant blue. The campground itself seemed to be illuminated brilliant blue. I looked at my own aura, it was the same magnificent color.

I compared life at the campground to life at home with the Sanibels. At home, the parents were so engrossed in selfish, unproductive activities. They often had a scowl on their face and their auras were almost grey. They didn't interact much with the kids, unless it was to yell at them. I wondered what the family would be like camping. Maybe they would be as happy as all the other campers seemed to be. Maybe they would have the deep blue color band. I didn't know what the colors meant yet, but I was starting to classify them. Brilliant blue seemed to mean happy, peaceful, at one with self and nature. Maybe I was wrong, but at least that is what they meant to me. Grey seemed to mean despondent, gloom, in a funk. I had decided I needed to pay more attention to color bands and the emotions the people were displaying in each color field.

There was a cold nip to the air. I stopped observing the campers and ended up going home sooner than I wanted to. Hungry, I went out to the shed and fried up some fish in the electric skillet. I was so thankful for my secret stash of food. I couldn't figure out why there were so many portly people in the Sanibel home, for I was starving. Weren't they starving too? Maybe they had learned to be more aggressive and therefore, they got to eat more food than the rest of us. My fish sizzled in the electric skillet and the small shed filled with savory smoke. My stomach growled, impatient for the fish to be done. With the space heater on, I stayed comfortable. When I had finished eating, I went into the house.

With my stomach feeling satisfied, I realized I hadn't taken a shower since I had moved in with the Sanibels. I didn't know much about hygiene, and the Sanibels weren't good examples of it. Being alone in the house, I thought it was the perfect time to shower. Since none of the bathroom doors had locks, I had been real nervous to do it before then. Grabbing some dirty clothes, I went in the bathroom. The Sanibels never washed my laundry, so I had started doing it by hand in the sink. I am sure I must have stunk, but what choice did I have? I decided I must remember to ask Peggy about laundry services during our next boat trip.

Thankfully, nobody disturbed me while I showered. It felt so good to get all the gunk and dirt off me. When I turned the water off, I noticed there were no towels. I ended up using my dirty clothes to dry myself on.

Saturday evening, around 5pm, everyone and their friends appeared to be back together again. The only ones not there were Peggy and Mike. They had gone to the store in nearby Brigham City for a date. When they came home, Mike had the biggest smile I had ever seen on him. His color band was purple as he lugged in a 32inch flat screen TV. The kids were hyped-up by the sight of something new being brought into the home. They gathered around Mike until he growled at them to move. He took the TV straight into his bedroom and closed the door.

"What's that? What's that?" the kids pestered Peggy.

"It's Dad's new TV. Now he is no longer going to tie up our TV out here with his dumb video games. He is going to move the X-BOX into the bedroom and we get free reign on the TV." And by 'we', she meant her.

The kids cheered in their excitement. Peggy immediately plopped herself in the recliner, dust shot out, and she turned the TV on. I was hoping we would go out on the boat, but with her new found TV freedom, we didn't go out. I was rather disappointed as I headed out to the shed for bed.

# Chapter 10

The new start-

Waking up snug and comfortable, I left my cozy blankets to get dressed for school. Since it was a school night, I had to sleep in my room. My heat stayed in bed, and I shivered as I got ready. I hadn't planned things well, because I was horrified to find I was stuck wearing the same outfit I had worn during my first and second day of school. They were already drab and unbecoming, but now I had to wear them for the third time in my short school career. Everything else was too dirty and stinky. I had washed my clothing in the sink on Friday, and worn my other two outfits over the weekend, leaving me with only that stupid outfit to wear again.

At school, I went to all of my new classes. It was so uncomfortable. All the teachers called me Jane and tried to get me to tell the class a few things about myself. As I was turned to face my peers, I couldn't speak. Even if I had wanted to, nothing would come out. Each time, my heart would pound violently against my chest. Sweat would form under my armpits. I really hoped the snickering kids wouldn't notice my odd behavior. When I would walk in the halls, several kids made it their point to tease me. I wanted to go home so bad. School was not for me.

Going to all six periods and meeting new teachers made it a very long day. I couldn't stand school. I wished Peggy would let me stay home. She wouldn't even know I was there.

After I had gotten off the bus in Mantua, I walked to the Country Store to meet the person who sent me the anonymous letter the previous week. It turned out to be London, and she was there like she said she would be. As I walked through the store's driveway, she jumped out of her car and ran to me. Without giving me a chance to steady myself, she dove at me with a giant hug. We almost toppled over at her unexpected embrace.

"Oh Jane," she said in a high soprano as she showered my face in kisses. "It is so good to see you. I have been awfully worried about you. Are you alright?"

I didn't answer. She continued caressing me for a moment more, then she backed off. My muscles were stiff at the unwelcomed attention.

"Oh Jane. It is so good to see you. Are the Sanibel's treating you well?" I stared. I wasn't ready to talk to her. To that point, Peggy was the only one who had heard my voice.

London kept talking, "Do you know how they discovered you? It was me. I am the reason that you were rescued."

The lady from the hospital was my rescuer?

"It was I that found you. That is why you are so dear to me. I feel responsible for you. It had to be divine intervention drawing me to you. I'll tell you just how it worked. You see, our church had just launched a new challenge to us. They told us to seek out someone and share with them the love of God. Instantly the Russians flashed across my mind. Those are the same Russians that held you captive, anyway, they lived just across the street from me. I decided they were just the perfect people I could share God's love with.

"I decided a plate of cookies a week would be my first month of service. That week, I used my best cookie recipe and filled a glass plate with oatmeal raisin cookies. I brought the cookies over and rang the doorbell. As I stood with the plate of cookies, I said a silent prayer that they would answer the door. Of course, they didn't, so I just left the plate on their door step with a note. The note simply said, _you are loved_. Even though they didn't answer, I knew they were home, for I watched their house carefully, always waiting for the chance to get to fellowship them. They only had one black car, and I could see it through their garage window. The car rarely left.

"Into the second month, my theme was bread. I wanted to give them a new type of bread every week. I had fun with this. I loved to bake bread. I made them pretzels, and parker house rolls, and wheat bread. Each week, I prayed that they would open their door. They never did. Eventually, though, my goodies always disappeared. They would just sneak their door open when they were sure I wasn't around, then they would bring in the treats and quickly close the door. It made me feel good to know that they were at least enjoying my service.

"The third month I decided to be creative, and I made them a new craft each week. That was a fun month. I love making crafts. On the third week, there was a note on their door. It said:

We like treats. Treats ok.

We no like junk, we throw junk away.

"That actually hurt my feelings. I had worked hard on those crafts. I had decided that I was just done serving them. I had done it for almost three months. God would understand. But, I don't think God wanted me to stop, because that week in church a speaker got up and talked about the challenge again. He told us not to get discouraged, because what we were doing was making a difference, and that the Lord was aware of it.

"That was all the pep talk I needed. I decided to return to helping them. On the fourth month, I returned to treats. That month I experimented with brownies. Mint brownies, marshmallow brownies, brown Betties, oh I liked that month. I am sure they did too, because the treats were always snatched up.

"By the fifth month, I decided I just hadn't been doing enough. I really wanted to touch their lives, make an impact. I decided to shovel their snow for them. It was February. Luckily, I was able to find four different days to clear their snow. It probably never helped them, since they never left. But I wanted them to see me serving them.

"In March, my last month, I decided to clean the exterior of their home. The first week, I went around washing their windows. It was a warm enough day that I was sure the windows wouldn't freeze. That's when I discovered two things. First-I discovered they weren't home. The car was not in the garage. They must have slipped out in the night or early in the morning. I wondered if they usually left when I was asleep. Second-I discovered that the patio door was unlocked.

"Now, I am ashamed to talk about the next thing I did, for it was unbecoming of a Christian. I went inside. I did it in the name of service. I decided since I had the outside of their windows crystal clear, I just wanted to make the inside match. I went into the kitchen and did a bang up job on the sliding back door. It was so streak-free they might have walked through it, not knowing the glass was there. I went into their front room and washed those windows. I must admit, my heart was pounding pretty hard for being in there, but I felt it was okay, because it was done in the name of service.

"I went around and washed all their windows, and I was speedy quick, for I didn't want to get caught. Their furnishing seemed odd. They didn't have the American fineries that most of our neighbors had. They just had two hardback chairs in the living room that were scooted up to a small plastic table. The kitchen had a matching small table, with two hardback chairs. That was it. Well, there were a few pictures of Russian dignitaries on the wall, but nothing more. There were just three bedrooms on the main floor. Two were completely empty, and the third had a simple double bed in it, with a green blanket on top. The closets had clothes, but they were rather drab. There was one dresser. I had never seen such a bare home before. This house was just odd, and dreary.

"When I went down to the basement, I found it unfinished. It was a large, open room with nothing stored in it. At the end of the room was a door.

"Then, I went to the door and opened it up. What I saw made me scream.

"There you were, lying in a hospital bed hooked up to all these tubes. I can tell you I wasn't expecting that. I wanted to run away, for it was scary. But, since I could tell you were just a child, I couldn't get myself to run. I tipped toed to your bed and just looked at you. I shook you and said- hello. You didn't answer and you didn't move. There was no response from you.

"I guess I am naive, for at the time, I didn't think it was out of place to find you there. I was just surprised, but I didn't think this was a criminal act. I figured that the Russians had a sick daughter and they were caring for you. It seemed to answer a lot of questions I had. It explained why they never left. It was because they were so busy taking care of their sick daughter, and of course they hadn't been too friendly, because they had language barriers. It was probably hard to be Russian in America, especially Bountiful Utah. At the time, this just made me love them even more. I could appreciate the hard time they had as parents. I wanted to serve them night and day. I was determined I would do all I could to help lift their burden.

"I rubbed your hand for a while and sang you some hymns. As I was walking up the stairs, I heard their electric garage open. I was terrified. They were home! I didn't want them to see me in their house. I quickly grabbed my cleaning supplies and ran out the back door. Just as I closed it, I heard the kitchen door to the garage open. I snuck away against the side of their home that had no windows. I am pretty sure they never saw me.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you and what I thought were your parents. No wonder the Russians were so standoffish. They had the trial of their daughter in a coma. That is actually what I thought. So, I did what any good Christian would do, I created a plan of Relief. That Sunday, I shared with the ladies in my church the circumstance I found you in. 'What better way can we do service than to help relieve the burdens of this family?' I told them then I asked them to think about going in and reading to you. Just because you were in a coma, didn't mean that you couldn't have stimuli. I doubted you got much in that empty house. I also asked them to bring meals over every Sunday to help relieve the burdens on your parents. I had our compassionate leader pass around a signup sheet. They were very eager to help, because Christians love to serve.

"When I had a full schedule together, I asked Cindy Palmer to meet me at my house. She could speak Russian. I asked her to write a letter to the family and explain what it was we wanted to do for them. As she was composing this letter, I heard their front door open from across the street. They both came outside, each carrying a bag of garbage. I turned to Cindy and said, 'Look at that, God sent them outside the very moment you were here. Hurry, let's go talk to them.'

"We ran out the door and stopped them before they could go inside. Cindy said, "Hi," in Russian. She explained what we intended to do to help them. I had Cindy tell them that we had heard that they had a daughter in a coma and we wanted to help. The Russians became very defensive. Cindy translated that they swore up and down that they didn't have a daughter. They claimed that they lived alone. Cindy turned to me very confused. I told her to let them know that they didn't have to be embarrassed and that we wanted to help. She translated that to them. Again, they got very defensive, claiming no one else lived there but them. After Cindy again told me what they had said, I asked her to ask who the child was in their basement. The Russians must have understood English, for the man turned to me and said, "No Daughter!" He grabbed his wife's hand and they turned their backs to us and quickly went into their house where they slammed the door in our faces. Cindy began to cry. It was horrible, really.

"Cindy went home all distressed. I sat on my patio swing and just watched their house. As I sat there, I was so confused. I knew they had a girl in the basement. I had seen you. I had touched you and sang to you. Why would they say otherwise? As I was sitting there, Scott, my husband came out and sat by me. He could see I was bothered and he asked me what was going on. So, I told him all that had happened. I told him that things just didn't add up. Why were they lying? As we talked about you, we both wondered why they would put you in the back end of the basement, especially since they had two open bedrooms on the main floor. If someone was carrying for a sick child, they would want them easily accessible. What mother would be able to sleep at night with her sick child in a place she couldn't easily check on them? I mean, that room had been cemented in. The walls were extra thick.

"Scott thought it very odd indeed. He had always been uncomfortable with our strange neighbors, but now, he really felt that something was wrong. The more we talked about it, the worse we felt. He finally decided this matter needed to be investigated. We owed that to you.

"Scott is a sheriff and he decided to put together a warrant to search their house. I am not sure what method of suspicion he used to be able to make it legal, for I don't understand police business very well. Whatever means he had to use, he was able to get the warrant. He was pretty sure the Russians would try to run the first chance they had since they knew we knew about you. He told me not to give them that chance. He said to just stay out on the porch until he could return with his men to search the house. He didn't think they would try to leave with me right there watching them. "If they do try to go," he said, "then walk across the street the minute their garage door opens. Their car is small. If they are trying to sneak the girl away, you will be able to see her in their back seat. I doubt there is enough room in their trunk to stuff her in there.

"So I did what he asked me to. I sat out on the porch swing until he returned with his squad. They had to bust the door in, because of course, the Russians weren't going to let them in. I was afraid there was going to be a gun fight, but there wasn't. And sure enough, they found you in the basement. The ambulance came and whisked you away. It made me sick to think that you had been there this whole time, and we had done nothing to help you."

We sat in silence after that. She had given me so much to think about. I hoped that learning about my discovery would spark my memory, but it didn't. It almost felt like she was telling me someone else's story.

London looked at her watch. "I gotta go. I really wish I could have spent more time with you. Will you meet me here again next Monday? Mondays seem to work out really well for me." Unconsciously I nodded yes.

"Oh my gosh, oh my gosh!" she rang out in excitement. "You responded to me. That is the first time that you responded to me!" She gave me a strong hug, crushing my ribs. "Please don't tell any of the Sanibels about our meeting. I will explain to you later why it must be done in secret."

As I walked home, London stood in the parking lot, watching me leave. I sort of liked London, and I was also scared of her. She seemed to really care about me, which felt good. What scared me was her never ending energy. She was so hyper, and she never stopped talking.

# Chapter 11

The talk-

Saturday morning, everyone cleared out for soccer games. I didn't think Mike would leave his precious new TV, but he did. No one stayed behind except me. I had the house to myself. It was strange how quiet the home was. The Sanibels kept the place so loud that I often got headaches. I reveled in the peace for a time but then I got bored, so I decided to go exploring. I probably shouldn't have, but I was curious. I went from room to room, searching all the drawers. Most of them had clothes shoved inside. Some of them had various treasures, like rocks, paper, toys, and garbage.

Peggy and Mike's drawers were empty since all of their clothes were scattered around the floor. Their room smelt pretty sour, probably having something to do with Mike practically living in there when he got home from work. The bed was piled with clothes, magazines, and dirty dishes, while all the blankets laid in a heap on the floor. I didn't find anything exciting. When I had finished searching the whole house, I decided to take a shower. I didn't like showering once a week, wanting to do it more. I wondered if I could sneak a shower in at night when everyone was asleep, not daring to shower while the family was up and around.

The warm shower relaxed my muscles and comforted me. I could have stayed there forever, but I finally dragged myself out because of my wrinkly skin. When I was dried off, I sat at their computer and explored various subjects on the internet. We had to use the internet several times a week at school, so I had a basic understanding of it. While I played on it, I looked up color bands. That's where I learned the color I was seeing around people was called auras. Not everyone could see auras. That surprised me since they seemed such a natural part of sight. I hadn't realized others weren't seeing them. I decided to write down what the colors meant.

Red Anger

Black- stressed

Brown- troubled,

White- teaching or spiritual

Grey- sad, hopeless

Blue grey- empathy

Orange- aggressive, bothered

Yellow- confused

Golden-yellow- hope

Yellow green- nervous, worried

Lime green- full of energy

Dark green- sick

Teal- skittish

Magenta -flustered, ashamed

Dark Pink- silly

Light pink- gitty, playful

Ice blue- very scared

Brilliant Blue- calm and content

Dark blue -bored

Blue-violet- sure of yourself

Violet- happy

Light purple- excited

Blue grey- empathy

Dark grey- ill intent

Mustard Yellow- evil

Since the day had been fairly warm, I was rewarded with an evening boat ride with Peggy. I was glad to finally be out on the water with her again, having stored up many things to ask her, and besides, my fish supply had run out.

After our first hour of silent fishing, I decided to be the one initiating the conversation. It took a few attempts to get my words out, but I finally said, "I have a few questions."

"Shoot," Peggy said.

"First, is there any way I can get more clothes. I only have three shirts and two pants. I can't even get through the week without having to wear something over again."

"Oh yeah, no problem. We have plenty of clothes."

"Thank you," I said. "Second question. How do clothes get washed? Everything of mine is so dirty."

"Well, you see here, Alora, I decided even before I got married I wasn't going to become a slave. To me, it seemed like so many young girls sell their freedom of being single, to marry a man and immediately become his slave. They cook for him, clean for him, wipe his nose. I detest the very idea. I have an identity. Now, I don't mind cooking for Mike or the kids, but that is where it stops. In our home, I am raising responsible children who will make responsible adults. They have learned to do their own cleaning, and their own laundry. My kids know how to work. They don't depend on me, and they can problem solve. If they see a problem, they don't come running to me. On their own, they fix it."

She was good at building herself up. She probably left all the woman in her society in awe at her impeccable parenting skills. But the words she said didn't reflect the actuality of the matter. Her kids weren't responsible. None of them knew how to clean. If they made a mess, they walked away from it, leaving it there to further soil things. I wasn't really sure how the laundry got done. Neither the kids nor Peggy seemed to do it.

"Will you teach me to do my own laundry?" I asked.

"I will teach you once, then you are on your own after that. I only teach things once, otherwise I become an enabler and people become lazy and dependent upon me."

Peggy was the model of laziness.

"You know," Peggy said, breaking my thought. "We are pretty lucky. This has been a very warm winter. There are many years when this reservoir is still frozen, and we can't come out on it with the boat. I like to ice fish, and I have my own shanty, but it's a lot of work to put up, so I don't do it much."

We continued to talk, and I was lucky to catch seven fish. I would have plenty to eat for a while.

The next day was Sunday. Three hour church Sunday. I wondered why the kids didn't complain more about church. I was ready to crawl out of my skin by the time we got home. Once back, they would happily share everything they had learned in class. They truly seemed to like going. I guess I lacked the vision they had.

Monday, after school, I met with London for the second time. She acted as pumped up to see me as she was the week before. She had brought me several new outfits, which I was very grateful for. She must have noticed the horrific clothes I had been wearing. I found it weird when I wore the new outfits at home, no one there seemed to notice or wonder where they had come from. It taught me I was a tolerated member of their family, not a loved one.

I was a little disappointed, because London didn't tell me why I must keep secret about her. The first time I had met her at the country store, she had promised this visit she would tell me, but she hadn't.

The rest of the week in school was mostly dull. I endured class without doing a thing. On Wednesday, they decided to set me up with a number of volunteer tutors. The new tutors sat with me and tried everything they could to educate me. I gave them my blank stare. I did this with everyone, except Mandy.

Mandy Heart was one of the tutors placed with me to help with reading. She was a very beautiful Navajo woman. She had gorgeous brown skin, without a flaw. I thought she was younger than Peggy, but I later learned she had grandchildren, so she had to be older. I don't know what the secretaries told Mandy about me. They probably told her I was a dumb, mute girl. I bet she would have been surprised if she knew exactly how much I really could read. Peggy had finally taken me to the public library. While at home, I was devouring the books like candy, but no one at school knew I could read.

I liked the tutor, Mandy. I don't know what about her that drew me in, but I made a powerful connection with her. I noticed when we were together, our auras would reach out to each other and merge, simultaneously becoming the same shade of brilliant blue. When we separated our distance, then Mandy's aura would always return to a light pink. It was such an amazing phenomenon. I also liked her because she was very friendly and talked with me even though I never answered her. All the other tutors seemed very uncomfortable with my lack of conversation and they stuttered through their lesson plans, but not Mandy. At first she tried to get me to read, but she quickly abandoned it when she could tell I wasn't going to. Instead, she turned to telling me all about herself.

Thursday and Friday, I met with a number of tutors instead of going to class, but I looked the most forward to my time with Mandy.

Friday night was pizza and movie night. Everyone in the family seemed so happy when pizza night came. I must admit, the first few pizza nights were exciting. But after a while, they seemed ordinary to me, but the rest of the family didn't act that way. They went crazy for pizza night. I hadn't found a chance to shower during the week, so come Saturday; I showered while the family was away to soccer. I liked having the house to myself on Saturdays.

Sunday came, and I am sure you can guess what we did. Three hour church! Thankfully, that night, Peggy and I went out on the reservoir. It was really cold, and we didn't stay out long. Since we didn't fish on Sundays, I guess it didn't matter. But before we pulled the boat in, we had a lifesaving talk.

"Alora, what are you afraid of?" Peggy asked.

"I am not afraid."

"Sure you are."

"Why do you say that?" I asked perturbed.

"Well, for starters, why don't you talk to anyone? You close everyone out. You have the whole county thinking you are mute or dumb, but you are not. You are very intelligent. Why do you hide that?"

I covered my face in shame, for her words crushed me. She reached over and stroked the top of my head. "I am not trying to be hurtful. I think you are hiding behind your eyes. You are missing out on life, and it so breaks my heart." She got choked up while she talked. A few tears ran down her face. "I love you, Alora. I don't know if anyone in your life has ever told you that, but I do. I love you!"

Her words warmed me up.

"I want to see you succeed. In order to, you have to trust people. You have to let them in. You can't spend the rest of your life playing the part of a mute, because you are so much better than that. You have so much more to offer. What can I do to help you see this?"

I didn't look at her. I stayed silent. Peggy reached over and grabbed my head and gently raised it up.

"Alora, what can I do to get you to talk to others?" I stared at her.

"Oh no you don't," she chided. "You aren't going to shut down on me because I challenge you. What are you so afraid of?"

I stared at her, for I didn't want to answer her. She locked her gaze on my eyes and wouldn't release it. This made me uncomfortable.

"Please don't shut down, Alora. Please talk to me. I have been meaning to have this talk with you for a long time, but I have been trying to give you the space you need. I was so hoping you would come around on your own, but I think I see you slipping farther away." Again she choked up, and more tears streamed out of her eyes. I could see them glisten from the lantern's light.

"I am afraid I don't know who I am," I finally said.

"Explain."

I sat for a few minutes, thinking how to arrange my words. Peggy stroked my arm. "I don't know who I am. Everyone else knows who they are. Take Angela. She knows who she is. She plays the guitar, and she plays soccer. She knows she likes nice clothes and to look good all the time. Cordon, he likes his friends and soccer. I don't know. Everyone seems to know who they are. I don't know who I am."

"Really, I find it strange, for I know who you are. You love to fish, you love nature, you love walks, you love people. Can you not see that in yourself?"

I thought about her words. "You are right. That is who I am now, but what if that isn't who I was?"

"Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters. I want to be true to myself, but I don't know who that is."

"Alora, you have been through a lot. Maybe it's a blessing you don't remember your past. What if it was gruesome? What if it was dark and cruel? No one needs to remember bad things. But regardless of what it was, think of it this way. You have a new start, and that is why it is a blessing. Not many people get second chances in life. We love to label people. We are always labeling people. That person is nice, that one is a jerk, you can't trust him. Once someone gets a label, it is so hard to erase it. The jerk can become nice, but no one sees it, because they remember the jerk. You are coming to us without a label. You can create who Alora Funk is, and everyone will believe it. Be bold, tell us who you are."

"But I don't know who that is."

"Then create yourself. Take a notebook and fill it up with everything you want to be, then be that person. Tell us you are her, and we will believe you."

"But I already have a label. It is too late."

"Nonsense, what do you think your label is?"

"Shy, dumb, mute girl."

"Nonsense."

"It's true. That is what the kids at school call me." My voice dropped almost to a whisper. "That is what Angela calls me."

"She better not. I'll beat her!"

We sat in silence for a moment.

"You might be right. At this moment, you do carry a label, but it's a little different than a life-long label. You are still a mystery to everyone. The minute you open your mouth and show them who you are, they will rewrite your label. But you have to show them. Don't get stuck and trapped as the dumb, mute girl." Peggy moved a strand of hair out of my eyes. "You are so beautiful, inside and out. You are a child of God. I would like to see you become anything you want to be. Will you do this?"

"I can try."

"Oh goodie," she said clapping her hands. "It will be for your own good. Will you start by taking the tests at school tomorrow?"

I ducked my head.

"Don't be scared of them. They are for placement. They don't count on your grade."

"I am afraid for everyone to find out how stupid I am. What if I never went to school in my past? What if I don't know anything and they send me back to kindergarten?"

Peggy snorted as she laughed. "They won't send you back to kindergarten."

"They won't?" I said relieved.

"No way. What they will do is work with you. Set you up with a bunch of tutors."

"They've already done that."

"We'll see. It won't be anything more than that."

"But what if I am dumb? What if I don't know anything?"

"I can't believe that, because I already see you know how to read. At some point in your life, you must have gotten a little bit of an education. Take the tests. You might surprise yourself."

"Do you know Mandy Heart?" I asked. I was looking to change the subject. I was weary of talking about it.

"Oh, sure I do. I used to play church basketball with her when I was younger and in better shape. I love Mandy. She is so good. She led our team. How do you know her?"

"She's my reading tutor."

"Well, tell her I said hi."

# Chapter 12

The leap of faith-

I spent the night writing in a notebook Peggy had given me. I jotted down every talent I would like. I wrote down personality traits I wanted, mapping out my dreams and potential careers. It was exciting to shape myself. I hoped Peggy was right. I hoped I could become the person I wanted to be. Since I got so caught up in my project, I didn't go to sleep.

Monday morning found everyone grouchy as we prepared to go to school. I was going to start the day off by talking at breakfast, but it was too hard. I thought maybe I would talk on the bus ride to school, but I failed there again. I tried with several of my tutors, but I still wasn't able to get my words out.

I was bugged at my inability to change. Toward the end of the school day, I found myself with Mandy. She told me about her weekend. She talked and talked until finally I said, "Peggy told me to tell you hi."

Mandy stopped dead in the middle of her sentence. She stared at me with her dark brown eyes, her jaw dropped open.

"I knew you could talk," she said. "Why have you been holding back?" See, once people know you can talk, all they want to do is ask you questions. That is one of the reasons I didn't talk. I didn't know how to answer people's questions.

When she saw I wasn't going to answer her, she asked a different question, "Peggy who?"

"Peggy Sanibel," I said.

"Oh Peggy, she's a hoot. How do you know her?"

"She's my foster mom."

"No kidding? Doesn't she already have like eight kids?"

"Eleven. I make number twelve."

Mandy opened her eyes wide. "Twelve kids! That's a lot."

"Yeah, tell me about it," I said.

"Things must get pretty crazy around your house."

"Oh, they do," I replied. I couldn't believe it, we were having a conversation. Each word I said came out easier and smoother. I looked at our unified, brilliant blue aura. It gave me the courage to keep talking.

"That doesn't surprise me, though. Peggy has always loved kids, and she is so good with them. She used to make me a bit envious, because it seemed like she could do anything."

I laughed.

"What?" Mandy asked as she wrinkled her forehead.

"I love Peggy, but she is nothing wonderful. She is really lazy."

Mandy looked shocked. "Lazy? Not Peggy. She is always working on one project or another. She has perfect kids."

I laughed again. "The thing Peggy has gotten to perfection, is lying. I have watched her at church. She talks about how amazing she is and our family is, and none of it is true."

"Really?"

"Oh, really."

Mandy shook her head. "I can't believe that. Peggy lazy?"

"Have you ever been to her home? Have you ever seen her so-called projects?" I asked her.

"No."

"Our home is a dump. No one cleans a thing there."

"Really? The Sanibels are pigs?" Mandy looked like I had hit her up the side of the head with that news.

Suddenly, I got nervous. "Please don't tell her what I said," I begged as I shook at the thought.

"No. Jane, I want you to know you can trust me. I won't tell her a thing you tell me. Every kid needs a grownup in their life who they can go to for anything. Think of me as that person in your life."

"Thanks," I said. "Oh, by the way," I added. "My name is Alora."

"Alora, the office told me it was Jane. Is Jane your middle name?"

"No, they didn't know what my name was. They gave me a bland name like Jane Doe."

"The office named you Jane Doe?"

"No, not the office, the stuffy people."

"Who are the stuffy people?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I think they are Child Protecting Services. They put me in the Sanibels' home."

"Oh, I see. And they didn't know your name?"

I sort of wished I hadn't started in on that part of my life. That meant there was going to be questions. Questions I didn't have answers to.

"I was found in a cement room. I guess I was hooked up to a lot of drugs because they said I was in a medically induced coma, whatever that means."

Mandy jumped up, clapped her hands then sat back down. "You are that girl they found in Bountiful?"

I wanted to look away and stop talking to her, but I decided not to. I was taking Peggy's challenge to change my image. I no longer wanted to be the mute, dumb kid anymore. With much effort, I kept looking at Mandy as I replied, "That's me."

"Oh my heck, I bet you have one heck of a story."

"I really don't have any story at all. All my memories are gone. No one knows who I really am, not even me. You probably know as much about me as I do." I couldn't believe I was sharing so much with her.

"But they at least knew your name was Alora?"

"No, remember? I told you they had called me Jane. I gave myself the name Alora."

"Oh, okay, you are Alora Sanibel."

"No, Alora Funk."

"What a strange name. What does it mean?"

"I don't know, are names supposed to mean something?"

"You better believe they do. I will look it up for you when I get home."

"Thank you."

"No problem, Alora Funk."

"Can you help me with something, Mandy?"

"Anything."

"I need to take a test from the school. The first couple of times I did it, I didn't fill a single thing out. I am tired of playing the dumb, mute role. I want everyone in this school to know who I am. Will you help me ask the office if I can retake the test?"

"Right now?" Mandy asked.

"Yes," I said.

...

After school, I met London at the Country Store. She had a mint, chocolate chip shake waiting for me. As I sucked the thick, cold ice cream off the spoon, the flavor and texture brought me pleasure. The added joy made it easier for me to open up to London.

"Thank you for the shake," I said.

London was so overtaken with shock by my words. She dropped her own shake in the parking lot. "Oh, dagnabit," she said as it burst out the top and the bottom. Green shake splattered all over the asphalt and onto her white sneakers. She awkwardly bent down and tried to scoop it back up into the broken cup. Sticky shake ran between her fingers, dripping onto her white shirt and pants.

"Hold that thought," she said to me. She looked hesitant to walk away from me, probably fearing when she returned, I wouldn't talk again. Quickly she ran to her car to clean up. She was back in less than two minutes.

"Oh, Jane, I am sorry I interrupted you. You talked! Will you do it again?" she said as she stood right in front of me. She made me nervous being so close. I tried to talk, but I couldn't with her right in my space. I backed away three steps. With the new distance between us, I felt I could talk.

"Thanks for the shake," I stammered. It wasn't as easy as it had been with Mandy.

Although London had learned I could talk, she took over the conversation and bombarded me with her many words. Sometimes she would pause long enough for me to answer a few questions, but mostly she jabbered on. I guess I was glad she had so much to say, because I didn't.

...

Tuesday, I found myself back in the small room at school, taking the tests. This time, I tried. I was still afraid to fail on them, but I needed to move on. I needed an identity and I needed a life. I couldn't hide behind my silence anymore. I still didn't know who Jane Doe was. That part of me might have died when they chemically induced me into a coma. I was now Alora Funk, and it was time to define myself.

The tests took most of the day. I really tried my best, but it was exhausting. I felt like I didn't know any of the answers. By the end of the testing, my head was pounding, hurting something fierce. I think the last hour I picked the first answer that looked good, because I was so ready to be done. I was relieved when school ended, and I got to go home.

...

Wednesday, I was sitting in second period when I was called out of class and sent to the counselor's room. Ms. LeAnn welcomed me in. I was surprised to see Peggy already sitting in there.

Ms. LeAnn stood up, reached across the desk, and offered me her hand. I really didn't want to shake it, so I stared at her. When she could tell I wasn't going to shake it, she retracted her hand.

"Come in, Jane, come in," she said. "You can sit next to your foster mom."

Where else did she think I was going to sit? It was the only other chair available in the small room, but I didn't sit.

"We have been going over the scores on your test. Let me start by thanking you so much for doing it. I hear from the office ladies how you are now speaking to us."

I hadn't sat down yet. I stared at her. Was I ready to share my voice? I knew it was something I had worked myself up to do, but when it came time to doing it, my voice seemed to disappear. My vocal cords shutting down, not responding. It seemed easier to talk with people I knew and trusted, like Peggy and Mandy. But, it was going to take some work with other people.

"Please sit down," she said as she pointed to my chair. I sat. The chair was cold and hard. She turned her attention away from me and faced Peggy.

"Her test scores were...Let's say they were lower than we had hoped."

My stomach dropped at her words. Great, I knew it. I shouldn't have taken the stupid test. I was letting everyone down. With my results, they had proof I was dumb. Ms. LeAnn must have seen my face fall, because she turned to me.

"Don't worry Jane, it is okay, we will work through this." She then turned back to Peggy. "Her tests put her about three years back. She is testing at about a fourth grade level."

"Mercy me!" Peggy gasped.

"Now, we aren't going to send her back to fourth grade. But maybe it would be best to move her to sixth grade. She is going to continue to be lost and overwhelmed in seventh grade."

"What about 'No Child Left Behind'? Does that not apply to her?" Peggy asked.

"Mrs. Sanibel, from what I understand, you guys don't even know if she is old enough for seventh grade. Child Protective Services created an age for her out of thin air. I am not sure she can even keep up with sixth grade, to tell you the truth, but most certainly not seventh."

"You are not going to do this?" Peggy said, her voice elevating. "Alora has already been through enough. She already has a label here as the stupid, mute kid. If you suddenly send her back to sixth grade, it will create fuel for all the bullies' fire. They will further tease her and destroy her self-confidence even more than they have."

"I wasn't aware this was happening," Ms. LeAnn said. "We have a no bullying policy in this school."

"Well you policy doesn't work, because it's happening!" Peggy said, with an elevated tone of voice. "And I am not going to give you the chance to make it worse, do you understand?" Peggy scooted her body closer to the desk, staring down Ms. LeAnn. Ms. LeAnn leaned as far back in her chair as she could, probably trying to put some space between her and Peggy.

"This is for her own good. She doesn't have what it takes to keep up in seventh grade," Ms. LeAnn said in a meek voice.

"What do you know of Alora's capabilities? Let's give her a chance and see what she will do with it."

"We have already seen what she can do with it. She has been in seventh grade for three full weeks. This is now her fourth week. The teachers say she doesn't even do her homework. They say she stares off in space. She is failing in seventh grade, being swallowed up. This isn't the place for her."

"Hogwash. This is where she belongs. Alora has needed some time to adjust. I am sure you are aware she is the child they talked about on the news a couple of months ago. They found her in a chemically-induced coma. Thank goodness we cared enough to let her into our home. We have been so patient with her shortcomings, knowing she would need time to heal. Now, you are in education working with children. I would think you would understand the need to help her heal, and the patience it takes to do so."

Ms. LeAnn rubbed her head and sighed. "How much time do want to give her to continue failing?"

Did Ms. LeAnn forget I was sitting right there as she trashed my name?

"How about three months?"

"We don't even have three full months left in the school year."

"Fine, give her until the end of the school year. If she can't make par, then we will talk about holding her back, but I want to see what she can do. With the proper help and tutoring, I think she can catch up," Peggy said defending me.

"I don't know about this. You are asking me to allow her to sit in seventh grade and fail and to fall further behind. Right now, you should put her in the sixth grade, then she can spend the summer preparing herself for seventh."

"I am not going to let you do it," Peggy growled. "Alora has decided to turn a new leaf, and now she is ready to try. Give her this chance."

"Is this true, Jane?" Ms. LeAnn said, as she turned to me.

I sat and stared at her for a while. I hated how she talked about me as if I wasn't even there. She didn't deserve to hear my voice. As I contemplated what to do, Peggy jabbed me with her elbow.

"If you don't talk, she won't know you are serious," Peggy said.

I stared for a moment more. I guessed if I was going to talk, I had to start when it was the hardest. At least I would have Peggy there to fill in anything I missed.

I looked at Ms. LeAnn and said, "My name is Alora, not Jane."

You would have thought I had presented two tickets to Disneyland to her. Ms. LeAnn jumped out of her seat and clapped her hands.

"She talked, she talked," she shouted out. Her bizarre reaction made me never want to talk to her again. She was freaking me out.

"What are your thoughts on all of this?" she asked with a real cheesy grin on her face.

Oh how easy it would have been to stop talking again. She made me so nervous. But, I didn't want to go to sixth grade, so I spoke up. "I don't want to go to sixth grade," I squeaked.

"Jane, are you willing to try, are you willing to do what it takes to catch up?"

"Her name is Alora," Peggy corrected.

Ms. LeAnn looked at her computer screen. "Well, my official records say it is Jane Doe."

"Well, your records are wrong. What kind of teenager wants to go around with a generic name like Jane Doe? You need to change her name to Alora Funk."

"I am sorry, I can't do that. That is a legal issue, and I can't mess around with legal issues. If you want her name changed, then you will have to go to the district office to do it."

"Wow, you guys are difficult to work with," Peggy mumbled.

Ms. LeAnn looked flustered. She turned to me. "Will you do what you need to catch up?"

"Yes," I said.

"Alright, it is your choice. I want to type this up, so I have on record I advised against it. I will give it to Jane during her last period of the day. Jane, take it home, have Mrs. Sanibel sign it, then drop it off to me in the office tomorrow."

"She'll do that," Peggy said standing up. "If you don't mind, I really have to go. I have some important things I need to get to."

"Thanks for coming in," Ms. LeAnn said. I wondered if she really meant it.

As Peggy left, I stood up to follow her. "Not so fast, Jane, we aren't quite done." I am sure Ms. LeAnn wanted me to sit back down, but I stood facing her.

"Would you like to be put with peer support? They are a group of very nice kids who want to help any of the students feel comfortable. What they will do is walk with your from classes, sit with you at lunch, and help you with anything you need. I think this would be good for you."

I liked the idea, but I was uncertain. Maybe having instant friends would help me. "Sure," I said.

"Well, come with me, we have a bulletin board with their faces on is. Let's pick you out a couple of kids for your peer support." I followed her to the board. She smiled and pointed to Angela. "We'll look, there is your foster sister. Why don't we start with her?"

Angela was always telling her friends I was stupid and mute. She would be a horrible peer support. "No, please," I replied.

"Really, you don't want your sister?"

"No please," I choked out. Speaking was already so hard. Why must I say it again?

Ms. LeAnn scanned the board. "Here we go, how about Aleaha and Britney? They are very nice girls, and I think you will really like them."

I was done speaking, so I nodded my head. Within five minutes, Aleaha had been called up to the office. She had shoulder length black hair. She was a bit taller than me, and she had a golden aura.

"Hi Ms. LeAnn," she sung out as she reached us.

"Hi, Aleaha. Have you had a chance to meet Jane Doe?" Aleaha looked at me and blushed. I wasn't sure what she was thinking. "I've seen her around," Aleaha replied. I noticed she started to fidget her hands. She probably remembered me as being the mute, dumb kid, and I am sure she was disappointed about getting stuck with me.

"Jane has been here a couple of weeks now, and she could use a little extra support, isn't that right, Jane?"

Why had she said it like that? Did she want me to say, "Yes, Ms. LeAnn, you are right, I am stupid and mute and need all the help in the world. Will you help me so I am not so stupid?" Instead, I bowed my head in shame.

Aleaha wrapped her arm around my shoulder and guided me to the hall.

"Do you have your schedule?" she asked.

I looked at her. I didn't want to talk. But, if I didn't, then her confirmation about my stupidity would be solid. "I know my schedule," I replied.

"Well, tell it to me. I will help you with all the periods I can."

"I am in math right now."

"Who's your teacher?"

"Mr. Braxton."

"Hmmm," she said looking at her phone. "Second period is already over. I have Mr. Braxton for second with you. Do you remember seeing me in there?"

I shook my head no.

"Okay, who do you have for third?"

"I have Mr. Seal for Science."

"Tell me the rest of your schedule."

"I have Mr. Frost for language arts. Then Mrs. Holbrook for history. My last class is PE with Mrs. Meow."

"Well, I have two of those classes with you. Who do you have for first period?"

"I have Mr. Bates."

"Three. I have three classes with you. I can help you with math, science, and geography. You will have to find someone for the other classes. But, you can have lunch with me."

"They said my other peer support is Britney."

"Oh, you will like her."

Aleaha looked at her phone again. "There is only fifteen minutes of third period left. There is no use to going to it. Let's go pop-a-squat somewhere and talk."

Pop-a-what? I would have rather gone to class. I didn't want to talk. The first words she would ask, would be to tell her something about me. I had nothing to tell.

We went and sat in the Foyer. She must have been a star pupil, because none of the teachers questioned why we were there.

"Tell me about yourself," Aleaha said.

"There is nothing to tell," I replied.

"That's not what I have heard," Aleaha answered.

I started to sweat. I really didn't want to do this. Having a peer support was a bad idea. It sounded like she already had a perception formed of who she thought I was. She probably knew me as Jane Doe, the dumb and mute girl. I could keep quiet and validate the information she knew about me, or I could show her someone else, show her who _I_ wanted to be. I decided to take Peggy's advice and create Alora Funk.

"For starters," I replied. "My name is Alora Funk."

Aleaha looked stunned. "I thought your name was Jane Doe."

"No, it is the stupid name the FBI gave me when they placed me at this school." FBI? Why did I say that?

Aleaha looked even more stunned. "Stop it!" she said. "The FBI didn't put you here, did they?"

Oh no, I was already stuck to my lie. I had to think of something to say. "Have you heard my story?" I asked her.

"Well, I thought I had." She replied.

Instead of telling the truth, I intermixed lie into the details. Again, I wasn't sure why I was doing it, I guess I was so desperate to impress her and change my image. "The FBI had rescued me from the Russians. I was their prisoner in a cement cell. I am sure you had heard about it on the news," I said. I was shaking, my voice sounded so unnatural. The FBI could have rescued me, but I thought it was the police.

"I heard about you on the news," she confessed. "And your foster sister Angela told me about you, but she never said anything about the FBI." I shook more. Lying was a new thing for me. I felt so stupid for doing it, wanting to take back my words, but it was too late.

"Maybe Angela doesn't know everything about me," I said to hide the truth.

"Oh," Aleaha said.

Just then the bell rang. I was glad, because I really didn't have any more lies. Aleaha jumped up and grabbed her bag. "I guess I will see you around," she said.

"Aren't you my peer support?" I asked.

"Oh yeah, I am," she said. "Let's go help you make some friends."

During my sixth period, an envelope was delivered to me from the office. It had _Mrs. Sanibel_ printed on it. I took the letter and crammed it into my back pack.

# Chapter 13

The unveiling-

At home, I interrupted Peggy's TV time by handing her the letter. She ripped it open and found two letters in there. One she signed. "Return that to the office tomorrow," she told me as she thrust it at me. The other letter she reread and pondered for a moment.

"This is the names of professional tutors in the area. The school thinks you would benefit with private tutoring at home. You said you already knew Mandy Heart, is that right?"

I nodded.

"Do you like her enough for a full time tutor?" My heart leapt in excitement. I loved Mandy. "All right, bring me the phone, and I will call her for you."

I went to get the phone from the cradle, but it wasn't there. I searched through the messy house for an hour, pushing aside stinky garbage and dirty clothes, but still no phone. My hands were burning from all the gross things I touched. While I searched, I heard Peggy giggle.

"The phone was under me the whole time," she said pulling a ringing phone out from under her. "Hello," she said into it.

I plopped down on the worn couch. A piercing sensation jabbed into my bum as a spring stabbed me, forcing me to move around until I found a spot which didn't hurt to sit on. Waiting for Peggy to end her phone conversation with the intrusive caller, I tried to be patient, but it was hard. I was dying for her to call Mandy. Oblivious to my restlessness, she gabbed for forty five minutes until finally hanging up. I stared at her, waiting for her to call Mandy. It seemed to make her uncomfortable, for she turned to me and growled, "What? Why are you staring at me?"

"I thought you were going to call Mandy?"

"Oh yes," she said then dialed Mandy's number. After a long drawn out phone call, she put the phone down and went into the kitchen to start on dinner. I followed behind her until she finally acknowledged me.

"Well, whatcha want?" she asked with irritation behind her voice. She had pulled food out of the fridge.

"What did Mandy say?"

"Mandy said a lot of things."

"What did she say about tutoring me?"

A piece of chicken slipped out of her hands and splattered onto the floor. "Mercy me!" she exclaimed as she reached down and picked it up and put it straight ino the pan.

"What?" she grumbled.

"Is Mandy going to tutor me?"

"You know, I forgot to ask. We were so busy catching up. She did tell me she tutors you every day at school. When you see her tomorrow, why don't you ask her yourself, then set something up. Anything you decide will work for me." She took a hammer looking thing and beat the rest of the chicken. "You can go now," she said.

I left the kitchen a little bit bummed. Why hadn't Peggy asked? What if Mandy told me no? I didn't want to be the one to ask.

We had a nice chicken dinner. She had put cheese and ham in the middle and rolled it in bread crumbs, cut in small pieces. I had only managed to get two portions. The chicken was so good, but it only left me wanting more. Later, Peggy took Taz and me out on the boat. We fished in silence, just the way Peggy liked it. I was busting at the seams to talk to her, but out of grace, I remained quiet until she was ready to talk. Finally, Peggy broke the silence.

"How are things going at school, Alora?"

"They put me with peer support."

"Oh good, good. Who?"

"Aleaha and Britney."

"Aleaha Wight and Britney Jackson?"

I shrugged my shoulders. I didn't know their last names.

"I am sure it is those girls, they are good girls. You will like them."

"I do," I said.

"Are you talking to them?"

"Yes."

"Good, good. I am so glad. Are you talking to anyone else?"

"Well, I really haven't had the chance, but I will."

"I haven't really heard you talk to any of the kids at home."

I looked away from her. "I know," I said.

"Are you going to?"

"Yeah."

"When?"

"I don't know."

"Why don't you start tomorrow? I will call a special family meeting, and you will blow everyone away. You should share a lesson in it."

My heart raced, hating the idea. "I really don't want to do a lesson."

"Hmm," Peggy said. "Maybe we should keep it simple. You can start talking at breakfast tomorrow."

"If I start talking for the first time right before school, it will make us late for the bus."

"You are a smart girl. It probably would, then I would have to drive you all there. That would be bad. How about you talk for the first time after school?"

"What would I say?"

"I don't know; anything."

"I don't know," I said. My stomach was sick at the idea of a whole bunch of eyes watching me talk.

"Come on Alora, the more you put it off, the harder it will be."

"I know, I know."

"How about you ring the bell for dinner tomorrow, then you shout 'Dinner Time'. That will get everyone's attention. Then as we eat dinner, answer anyone who talks to you. If no one talks to you, then talk to me, that way everyone can hear your voice."

I liked the idea.

The next day at school, Britney and Aleaha supported me, escorting me to my classes and eating lunch with me. I was pretty quiet around their friends. I thought it was hard to talk to them one on one, but to talk in a group was mortifying. I discovered I really liked Aleaha, such a happy, fun person. Sometimes I forgot she had been assigned to me. She had a way of making me feel good. Both Aleaha and Britany had light pink auras, much like the one Mandy had.

During my tutoring with Mandy, she agreed for me to ride home with her after school for tutoring. Peggy would pick me up at 5:00pm.

I was so happy after my conversation with her. Alora Funk was going to get smart!

...

That night, I rang the dinner bell and barely squeaked out, "Dinner."

"Come on," Peggy challenged. "You can do better than that."

With all the nerves I could muster, I yelled, "Dinner!" I smiled so big when I was done, pride filling me. The Sanibel clan passed through the family room and into the dining room, not even acknowledging I had announced it, as if I had always called out dinner. I must admit, I was a bit disappointed when there was no reaction. Maybe there was too much noise in the house for anyone to realize the call had come from me. Peggy sensed my disappointment. She swung her hip into my hip, sending me a bit off balance.

"Don't worry, try again at dinner. Remember; ask me for the mashed potatoes."

Everyone gathered around the tables and prayed. When the prayer was over, they consumed the food in seconds, all acting like a million flies on rotting flesh. The food disappeared quicker than the time it took to carry it to the table. Peggy held the pot of potatoes in her lap. Some of the kids noticed and tried to wrestle it out of her hands, but she wasn't relinquishing it.

"Give me the potatoes," Cordon demanded.

"Yeah, Mom, why are you hogging them?" Rhett asked.

Peggy looked at me and shot me a stern look. I think she was ready for me to ask. I went to talk, but the lump in my throat got in the away. I shook. I wanted to hide, but I had to do it. I had to become Alora to them, not their dumb, mute sister. I swallowed away my fear and said, "Mom, please pass the potatoes."

It became immediately quiet. I don't know what effect I was going for, but this one frightened me. Everyone stared at me, while their food became forgotten. Their guards were down. Anyone could have come and stolen their food from them. Except for Mike. He didn't take much time to think about it as he went back to eating, but everyone else stared at me. Peggy was crying in the mashed potatoes.

Finally the silence was broke. "I knew you were faking it," Angela said, shoving a fork full of food into her mouth. Her words seemed to snap everyone back into reality. Each person reacted differently. Nina looked at me and giggled. Alashia gave me a big smile and said, "Way to go!" Jill said, "Now will you tell me about your time in the cement room?" Christian put some peas on his spoon and flung them at me. Emma came over and gave me a big hug. Joshua hid under the table and tied my shoes together. Elizabeth clapped for me. Traydon laughed and snorted. Rhett and Cordon whispered to each other as they stared at me.

"Why you crying?" Elizabeth asked Peggy.

"Did you hear her?" Peggy said.

"Of course we heard her. We are all right here, but I say she has been faking. It's not a big deal," Angela snorted.

"Oh it is a big deal. Did you hear her? She called me Mom."

I blushed when she said that. I'm not sure why I called her Mom instead of Peggy. It sure made an effect on her. Her tears flowed freely. Angela was tired of watching her mom blubber in the potatoes, so she yanked them out of Peggy's hands. Several of the other kids swarmed Angela as they all tried to get a scoop or two on their own plate.

I didn't say another thing the rest of dinner. My impact had been made. The ice had been broken. Everyone knew I could talk.

When the excitement died down after dinner, Peggy developed a migraine and retired to bed early. I felt bad for her and hoped she would be alright. She ended up kicking Mike and his XBOX out of their room so she could rest in peace and quiet. He sulked in the family room, forced to play his XBOX where all the noise was. He was especially grumpy, screaming and yelling at the family the rest of the night.

I left Mike to his orneriness and went to my room. I had slipped into my checkered pajamas when there were several knocks and tapping at my bedroom door. I opened it to find Emma and Elizabeth standing on the other side. Their arms were loaded down in blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals.

"Can we have a sleep over with you?" Elizabeth asked. I stared at them for a minute, when I remembered I was talking now.

"Sure," I said.

The girls came in and set up blankets and pillows on the floor. They had big smiles on their face and they giggled a lot.

"How do you like our family?" Emma asked.

I paused for a moment. How did I like their family? I really hadn't formed a solid opinion yet. I thought they were loud and overwhelming, but I couldn't tell the girls that. I felt at times they were disconnected and they fought too much, but I wasn't going to share that either. I _hated_ how there was never enough food to eat, and when there was, you had to be quick to get it or you didn't eat. I hated how my wardrobe was made up of ugly hand-me-downs. I didn't mind hand-me-downs, but, when Peggy had told the girls to gather me some clothes I could wear, you better believe they weren't bringing in their cute things. They were probably getting rid of things they had stopped wearing a long time ago. I had to really think about their question. What did I like?

"I like how you spend time together on Mondays. I also like how your mom cooks," I finally said.

"Oh yeah, she's the best cook in the world," Emma said with pride. Emma was ten and Elizabeth was nine, and I could tell their mom was still the center of their universe.

"Sure is," Elizabeth agreed.

"Hey," we heard from outside my door. It was Jill. "No fair, I want a sleep over too."

"No, it's the cool girls," Elizabeth said.

"I'm telling."

Elizabeth and Emma looked worried. They probably weren't supposed to be in there. If Jill ratted them out, then there would be no sleepover.

"Fine, get your stupid stuff," Elizabeth said.

"Yippee!" Jill called out as she scampered off to get her things.

"Do you have brothers and sisters?" Emma asked as she turned back to me.

"I have you guys."

They both seemed to like my answer, but still curious. "No, like your own family, your own siblings, or are you like an only child. I wish I was an only child. Mom used to be fun, but she is always saying how much everyone wears her out. I wouldn't wear her out if it was only her and I."

"I might have brothers or sisters, but I can't remember anything. And to stop any future questions, I can't remember my past. I know I was found in a cement room, but I can't even remember that. My memories start at the hospital. If you have any questions about my past, save them, because I don't know." I didn't want any more questions. Maybe the sleepover was a bad idea.

They were silent for a while. They had probably planned to stay up all night talking about all my mysteries. I didn't have anything to give them. Jill broke the silence when she came dragging in her bed gear. She stepped on Emma several times, which caused Emma to cry out in pain. Then to make matters worse, Jill accidently dropped all her things on Elizabeth's head, so Elizabeth slugged her in response. Jill cried.

"If you cry, Alora will make you go to your own room," Elizabeth threatened.

"I am sorry," she said, "I am sorry. Give me another chance."

She laid out her puffy, pink sleeping bag and climbed in. It had a unicorn in the clouds on the front. It looked really soft. She wiggled around until she was comfortable.

"Sit still," Elizabeth barked.

"Yeah, stop moving so much," Emma said.

"Sorry," Jill replied.

We played for several hours. It was the first time I had really played. I liked pretending with dolls. It was such a new thing to me. Soon we forgot our sleepover was secret, and we ended up getting really loud, when we did, Mike bounded up the stairs, shaking the house as he did. All the girls hid under their bedding, as if he wouldn't know they were in there. He entered my room with so much fury, flinging the door into the wall as he opened it. He hollered at the top of his lungs, "Shut up!" His face was twisted in anger. His aura was a dark red, almost black. He was not happy.

"It is midnight and what are all my girls doing? They are having a toy party. NO! NO! NO! If I hear another word out of you, then Pizza Friday is off!"

The girls shut up instantly. I am not sure if it was the fear in their dad, or the fear of losing their beloved Pizza Friday. Whatever it was, it had worked. Mike slammed the door behind him as he left the room. The house rattled as he descended down the stairs. The girls giggled again. At first, it was whisper, but then it got louder.

"Stop it," Elizabeth warned. "We don't want to lose our Pizza Friday."

Everyone stopped laughing. Soon, we all drifted to sleep.

# Chapter 14

The learning-

Saturday, when everyone went to soccer, I decided to clean the Sanibel home. I was tired of the slobby conditions. I wanted it to look and feel more like Mandy's home. I had been going to her house for tutoring and had a chance to see what a clean house looked and filled like. The atmosphere there was so peaceful and tidy. At the Sanibels', it felt like the filth was going to swallow me up. I spent the whole morning and afternoon cleaning it.

After everything was clean, I went and took a shower. I was still only taking one shower a week there, but it wasn't as bad, because I was showering at school during PE. For some reason, I felt more privacy in the locker room than I did at the Sanibel house. As I was getting out of the shower, the clan came home, their exclamations of surprise and wonderment could be heard as they walked in to a tidy home.

"Everything is so clean." I heard Elizabeth say.

"Who did it? Joshua asked.

"Does this mean Child Protective Services is coming over again?" Angela asked.

"Wow," Mike said.

I quickly got dressed and came downstairs with a towel wrapped around my head. What I saw sickened me. As the Sanibel's filed into the family room, they left a trail of filth. Cleats and stinky socks were dropped everywhere. Shin guards were thrown on the couch and floor, juice boxes dropped in the middle of the room. Where was their pride? Could they not truly appreciate a clean home and desire to keep it that way? Sure they were slobs, but come on, I had cleaned everything! What made them think it was okay to trash my hard work? Peggy ran over and waited for me at the bottom of the stairs.

"Mercy me, Alora, you have been busy," she said as she hugged me. She kissed the top of my head and went to her recliner and turned the TV on. She hadn't even said thanks. No one said thanks, and although they were surprised by the cleanliness, they didn't appreciate it. Their disregard for my gift hardened my heart. I vowed I would never clean for them again.

It was early evening, and I was fuming. I needed to get away from them. I went outside where I planned to walk to the campground, but it was too cold. Still wanting my space, I went to the shed and turned on the propane heater. After I fried two small bluegills, I curled on the cot with Taz and a blanket, reading until it was too dark to see anymore. I was a little chilly, but the space heater did a good job at keeping the shed cozy. Of course, I knew it was too cold to go out on the water. I decided not return to the house. I must have fallen asleep pretty early. To my regret, the next day was Sunday. I didn't hate religion, I just hated the social intermixing with church. Everyone there was so much happier than I was.

That day at church, my attention was caught. One of the speakers talked about heritage. I couldn't believe it, for it was the very thing Mandy and I had been talking about all week. I had a strong desire to learn what my linage was. Where did I come from? Was I Russian or American?

The day had warmed up, and it was seventy degrees outside. I really hoped Peggy and I would go out on the boat, because I really wanted to talk to her about her heritage. I didn't have to be disappointed, because, Peggy lugged out the boat, and we took it on the water.

"I sure have been missing this," Peggy said. Had she really initiated the conversation before an hour was up?

"Me too," I replied. "This is my favorite time of day."

"We haven't talked for a while, how are things going?"

I smiled big, "Good!"

"I like your smile. You know, when you first came to us, you didn't have a smile. The more you discover yourself, the more you smile."

I smiled even wider.

"Peggy," I started.

"If you want," Peggy interrupted. "You can keep calling me Mom. I really liked it, and while you live with me, I am your Mom. If you aren't comfortable with it, then don't worry about it."

"I like the idea, Mom," I said.

Peggy smiled as tears flowed. She dabbed at them, and apologized. "I am sorry. It means so much to hear you call me Mom. I have worried so much about you. I don't know if you have ever had a real mom. Everyone deserves a real mom. I want to be yours if you will accept me."

"I will," I replied.

Peggy lunged into a hug and held me for a while. Her embrace felt so powerful. I could sense the passing of love flow between us. I could actually feel it, for it was something that had bulk to it, sustaining me. I was on the verge of holding it, controlling it, but I didn't quite understand it. Suddenly, I felt like I had spiritual hands. I took those hands and grasped the love, then returned the love to Peggy. The very moment I did, she gasped. I know she felt the exchange.

What had happened? I had some sort of control over emotions; mine and hers. The connection to those spiritual arms slowly disappeared. I desperately wanted to know how to get them back.

"Wow," Peggy said as she let go. "That was strong, did you feel it?"

"I did," I replied.

We sat there in silence, enjoying the peaceful union we had interchanged. Finally, I decided to break the silence.

"Will you tell me about your heritage?"

"Ahh," Peggy responded with glee in her voice. "Someone was listening today at church."

I was embarrassed to admit I had been. I didn't want her to start preaching church to me. I wanted to know about her heritage.

"Well, let me think. I am Norwegian. Not full Norwegian, but half Norwegian. The other part of me is French. My great, great, great, grandpa was a Viking King. His name was Halver. He was a blood-thirsty man, and he went around conquering little fishing villages. I don't know if he was a real Viking. Most died out a thousand years before him, but he patterned his life after them. I guess it is no different than the pirates we have today off of Somalia. Anyway, my grandpa killed a lot of people, and I can't really be proud of him. He also spread his seed wherever he went. He met my great, great, great, grandma on the shores in what is now Toulon, France. It is not clear if she was his wife, or his victim. But whatever it was, my great, great, grandpa Peders was conceived. He was raised French. Peders married my great, great grandma who was also French. She gave birth to my great grandpa, Anders."

I was struggling to keep up with the pedigree she was explaining to me. She took me through the origin and names of all her early grandparents extending all the way back to Halvar. I found the whole idea of Vikings, Norway, and France real exciting.

Her story enthralled me. I couldn't even trace my life back a year, and Peggy could go back to her great, great, great, grandpa. "I sure wish I knew my heritage." I must say, I was very envious.

"I bet you do."

"What kind of traditions are in your family because of your heritage?"

"That's a good question. I guess everything seems natural to me, but let me think about it a moment and pinpoint where things came from." Since Peggy thought so long, I thought she had either fallen asleep, or had forgotten my question. When I started drifting asleep, she began.

"Well, my grandparents really love July. They set off fireworks on the fourth to celebrate our nation's freedom. Then, they set them off on July fourteenth to celebrate something called Bastille Day. I really don't understand what they are celebrating on the fourteenth except that has something to do with the Storming of Bastille; it's a French Holiday. And then, of course we celebrate the twenty fourth of July. This is when the pioneers came to Utah, and it's a state holiday. They usually have picnics, fireworks, and even concerts. It is such a fun time.

"On May first, Grandpa Charles always got Grandma Ruth a Lily-of-the Valley flower to wear. Something to do with his country, not hers. And then let's see, what are some of Grandma's traditions? Grandma always made the best bread. I guarantee you can't get anything like it around here. And then she made something detestable. It was called Lutefisk. It was nasty! She would soak a fish in lye and then leave it out to dry. It made me sick. I hate, hate, hated it!"

"Are your grandparents still alive?"

"Oh yes, and they are older than dirt."

"Can I meet them?"

"I'm not sure, honey. They live in Southern Utah, and I am not really much of a driver. If you could get Mike to take us there, then I would love to, but it is impossible to pull Mike away from his beloved XBOX." I knew what she was talking about.

"What is Mike's heritage?"

"Oh Alora, it's getting late and I think we have had enough genealogy lesson for today. If you want to learn about the Sanibels, then maybe you should ask Mike yourself. It might be some good bonding time for both of you."

Fat chance of that.

"What do you think my heritage is?"

"I don't know, Alora. I often wonder if you are Russian. That is a complicated culture. You can check out some books at the library to learn more about it."

"If I am not Russian, then I don't want to waste my time learning about the culture of my captors."

"Makes sense," Peggy said. "But it is never a bad idea to learn about another culture. Think about it." She turned the small engine on and headed to the shore.

...

The next week of school went by fast. I was very busy with my tutors at school, and with Mandy after school. I liked learning, but disappointed by my slow pace. Things were clicking into place, but I was still miles behind the other kids in seventh grade. My peer support was working well. I was making friends. Everyone Aleaha or Britney introduced me to seemed interested in me. Of course, they all bombarded me with questions about my time in the cement room.

I was happy everyone was willing to give me a second chance. They quickly forgot their original opinion of me as the dumb kid and formed their own impressions, and for the most part, they all seemed to have a positive responses to me. There was only one small group who didn't seem to care for me, and it was headed by Angela. I don't know why she didn't like me. Maybe it was because she felt like she had enough sisters and she didn't have room in her heart for one more.

Peggy thought I should join an after school club. Suddenly, Mike seemed to have an opinion in my welfare. He was insistent for me to join the Chess Club. They met every Wednesday after school. It would mean I would have to skip tutoring that day. I hated the idea of missing tutoring, but Mike signed me up and demanded I go. The kids in it were not ones my peer supports introduced me to. They were the intellectuals of the school, the nerds. I hoped by joining the chess club I wouldn't share the same title as them-NERD. I was only going to do it because Mike forced me.

Since I was getting tutored after school, Monday meetings with London were omitted. I felt awful about missing them, but I had no way to contact her. One night while I was sleeping in the house, I was awakened by small pebbles hitting my bedroom window. Fear filled me, thinking it might be the Russians. I was about to run and get Mike, but out of curiosity looked out my window into the yard. Down below stood London, waving up at me. Relieved, I quietly slipped out of my room, making my way through the house and out to the yard. I should have remembered London was a hugger, but I had forgotten. When I came out the door, she threw herself at me, wrapping her solid arms around me, giving me a long squeeze. The cold of the night nipped through my pajamas.

"Oh Alora, are you alright? I was just so worried about you when you missed our meeting. Are you alright? Are the Sanibel's being good to you?"

"I am fine. Things are actually going really well for me. I am starting to make friends, and I am getting really busy. Hey, I feel bad that I have missed meeting with you. I have started taking tutoring after school, and I haven't been able to make it to the store to meet you. You haven't given me any way to contact you."

"I know. I am sorry. Let me give you my phone number." London reached into her purse and pulled out a business card. It said, _London Bridges, Hair Consultant_.

I couldn't stop myself from laughing. "Are you really called London Bridges?"

"The name came with the husband," she said somewhat sheepishly.

I laughed again. "I am sorry, I don't mean to make fun of you, but it is weird you married a Mr. Bridges."

"Gee, thanks, Alora."

"Sorry."

"So how are we going to meet up? Do you want to meet me during your lunch period at school?"

I wasn't sure why we needed to keep meeting. I liked London, but I didn't know the point of our secret meetings. Since I had been making so many friends, there was no way I wanted to skip out lunch with them to secretly meet with a middle aged lady.

"No, I don't think that's a good idea," I responded, trying not to hurt her feelings.

"We could meet one evening a week."

"No, that wouldn't work either." I didn't want to miss out on my fishing time with Peggy.

"Well, what would work?"

I thought about it. Nothing really happened after church on Sundays. "How about Sundays?"

"Oh, Sundays, that is family time," she said. "Between my meetings and everything I have going, I don't know how to make that work."

"That is fine."

"No, no it isn't fine. We need to keep meeting. I will make it work. Can you meet me early Sunday morning, say 6am?"

6am! She was insane. I wanted to blurt out-no way, but instead I agreed.

"Where should we meet? I don't want to walk to the Country Store that early in the morning," I said.

"I don't know, do you know anywhere else?"

"Well, I usually sleep in the shed on weekends. You can come wake me up in the shed. Peggy never comes and gets me until 7am."

"WHY DO YOU SLEEP IN THE SHED? Is that some sort of punishment?"

"Oh no, I like sleeping out there"

"WHY?"

"Because, it is the only place in this house I can find real peace."

London thought for a moment. "Yeah, that makes sense."

A breeze kicked up and instantly froze me through my pajamas. I shook.

"Oh, I don't want you to get sick. I will let you get back in the house. Thank you for coming out to talk to me. I will see you Sunday morning, 6am in the shed."

It sounded like such a strange thing, but I agreed. Quickly, I dashed back inside and back to my warm covers.

# Chapter 15

The Awakening-

"Ahh, it's the new girl. I am Thor." A tall lengthy boy said. He had a head full of bright blond hair. It was beautiful how thick and curly it was, tempting me to run my fingers through it. I kept getting locked in his stunning blue eyes, capturing me as he spoke. His magnetism intimidated me.

My left arm wrapped around the front of my body. I was ticked at Mike. Why had he insisted I join the chess club? It was all boys, and I didn't feel like I belonged. They seemed off to me, different than other boys I had met with my peer support. I noticed most of their auras were violet, or emerald green in color. I looked at mine. It was an ice-blue. Ice-blue meant scared, and I was terrified.

"Do you play chess?" another boy asked. He looked like Thor, most likely his twin.

I wanted to be silent. That had been my crutch when I didn't feel like answering questions, but I couldn't start out like that. I didn't bring my eyes off the floor when I responded. Peggy had been trying to teach me to look people in the eyes when I spoke to them, but it was painfully hard to do. "No, but the office said you would teach me how," I said with my eyes still on the ground.

"Why do they do that to us?" Thor's twin whined. "Why do they keep sending us kids who can't play? They keep bringing popular kids into our club, and I can't figure it out. We eat them for dinner. They don't belong here. There should be a criteria for this club to join. If you can't play chess, you can't join the club."

Thor punched his twin in the arm, "Shut up, Zachery."

"No, I mean it."

Thor punched him again, "Shut up."

"Let's sign a petition," Zach said turning to the other four boys. "Come on, Kayson, I know you are with me."

Kayson had long brown hair and deep brown eyes. He looked at me and blushed. "I think she is kind of cute." he said without hesitation. I blushed.

"Fine, if you think she's cute, you waste your time and teach her while the rest of us men play chess."

Kayson came over and grabbed my hand with his wet one. I tingled to his touch. Why did he make me feel funny? Hand in hand, he led me to a table.

"Sit," he said, "and learn from the master."

The other boys paired off, leaving Zachery without a partner. "Great," he bellyached. "Just great. Now we are uneven."

"Play against the computer while you wait," Thor told him.

"That is so stupid. She doesn't even belong here," he responded to Thor.

Kayson explained the rules. I must admit, he lost me with all his talk about pawns, kings, knights, bishops, queens, and such. I couldn't keep them straight or what they did. Zachery couldn't stay away, and soon he was leaning over my shoulder dictating to me what moves I should make. Eventually, Kayson won.

"Now you know how to play, don't expect any more help," Zachery warned me. He went to Kayson and tipped his chair forward, dumping Kayson out. "My turn to mop the floor with your girlfriend." Kayson and I both blushed.

Zachery took the chair and scooted it up to the table. He rearranged all the pieces and told me to start. As I looked blankly at the board, Kayson whispered into my ear which one to move. His breath against my neck sent chills up and down my body.

"Hey," Zachery squawked. "No helping her."

"But you helped her," Kayson protested.

"Yeah, because it was her first round of chess. She is on her own. I want her to get humiliated and not come back."

Kayson put his hand on my shoulder. His touch made my mind go numb. "Don't worry, Jane, you are welcomed back any time you want. Don't listen to Zachery, he is a prick."

"A prick who can beat you at chess any day," Zachery chided back.

"Alright, after Jane beats you, you're mine."

"Jane will never beat me, not in a million years."

"Actually, my name is Alora," I weakly informed them.

"Oh, Alora," Kayson trilled on his tongue. "I like the way that sounds. I had thought the teacher called you Jane in our English class."

"He does," I replied. "It's a long story. But, my name is Alora."

"Back off, dork, you are distracting us," Zachery said to Kayson. "We aren't here to mingle, we are here to play chess."

Kayson and Zachery stopped their arguing, and the game of chess began. Meanwhile, the other two boys in the club continued playing each other and ignored us.

I looked at my pieces, and I can't explain what happened at that moment, but suddenly, with clarity, I understood each chess piece. I could remember what they did and how they moved. When I viewed the board, images formed in front of me. Pieces moved on their own, but only in my mind. As they did, their aura left a trace of light behind. My mind anticipated moves and the open possibilities left for Zachery. In seconds, I could configure the perfect move for each piece, and which moves to avoid. It astounded me as to what was happening, but I didn't want to lose the ability, so I went with it, not trying to figure it out or understand it. As I let the game work itself out in my head, it only took a few quick turns until I was declaring checkmate.

"Oh, oh, oh, Alora, you mopped the floor with Zach. You punished him. PUNISHED HIM! Everyone, come see the board. You have never seen Zach lose this badly, and to a girl, a girl who doesn't know chess." Kayson was enjoying making Zachery angry.

As the rest of the club rushed to our table, Zachery stood up and flung the board across the room. The pieces scattered everywhere. His aura, which was at first was an emerald green, was now an orange red.

"She was hustling us," he said. "She knew what she was doing this whole time. I was going easy on her because I thought she needed it. I guarantee she will never win again."

"Settle down, Zach and pick up the pieces," Thor said.

"No, the hustler can pick them up."

"Pick them up, Zach," Thor warned.

Zach threw the whole table over. "I'm out-a-here," he said as he stomped out of the room.

I dropped to the floor and picked up the chess pieces. Another boy grabbed my hand and pulled me up.

"We might be nerds," he said, "but we are always gentlemen. We can get the pieces. By the way, I am Robert."

"Zach ain't a gentlemen," Thor mumbled.

"Well, he ain't welcomed back until he apologizes to Alora," Kayson said.

I sat back at the table, and Kayson pulled a chair next to mine. "Were you hustling us?" he asked with a wink. "You can be honest."

"I don't know what hustling means."

"Do you really know how to play chess, then you come in here and pretend you don't to make a fool of us?"

I was shocked, "No way, I would never do that."

"Why not. It would be fun to do to someone," Kayson said, and winked again. My nerves tingled.

"I promise, I have never played before, well, at least I can't remember if I played before. Maybe I did before my memory was taken."

"What do you mean?" Robert asked. He had bright red hair and was wearing a red and black checkered flannel.

"Well, I can't remember my past," I quickly explained my origins to the club. I was surprised, for none of them seemed to have heard my story before. I had naturally thought the whole school knew about me.

"It looks like you must have been a chess player, and that is why it came so easy to you. You might not remember doing it, but your brain does."

His words enthused me. What else did my brain remember doing?

...

I couldn't go to sleep that night. The events at the chess club really stoked me, and I wanted to think about them, so I insisted I slept alone and kicked all my sisters out of the room. It had become a habit, them sleeping on my floor. The room probably was originally theirs, but Child Protective Services had strict rules I had to have my own room. With their nightly company, it no longer felt like my own room. They were bothered I didn't want them there but I didn't care because I needed time to think. If I was a chess player and had opened a link to my past, could I still access it? I tried all night to attain it again. Unfortunately, I couldn't come up with anything. I couldn't even open memories of me ever playing chess before. I wasn't going to let it get me down, for at least I had linked into my past through chess.

...

Sunday morning, I was jolted awake by London hovering over my cot. Her presence had initially frightened me. Taz barely looked up at her, then snuggled his head between my armpits. I had always thought if an intruder came into the shed while I slept, Taz would protect me. I guess I was wrong. Or maybe, Taz could see auras and could tell London's bluish-violetish aura meant she was safe to allow near me.

After I took a moment to wake up, I proudly told London all about my chess game, expounding on how it seemed I could see every move with complete accuracy. It was the first time with London I did most of the talking. She seemed so tickled that she didn't even tell me about herself. At 6:45, she left, saying she had a busy Sabbath ahead of her, and she didn't want to be there when Peggy came to wake me up. After she left, I went into the house.

"Well good morning, Alora. Nice of you to wake yourself up for once," Peggy said when she saw me come in.

Sunday was Sunday, with its three hours of church. I hated how much time was spent there, but I found myself enjoying some of the lessons, however, I would never tell Peggy that. Thankfully, Peggy took me out on the boat in the evening.

...

Monday was end of the year test day. The teachers had been preparing us for them for weeks. My tutors had also. My stomach hurt, and I felt like I might puke. I really wanted to do well on the test so they didn't kick me out of seventh grade. As I fretted, I noticed my armpits were wet and sticky. Some of the girls in my gym class wore deodorant. I had to remember to ask Peggy to buy me some.

In first period, the teacher handed out the tests. "Don't worry, Jane, do your best," he said. He dropped a test, an answer bubble sheet, and a number #2 pencil in front of me. I picked it up with shaking hands. The first problem was about area. I didn't remember learning area. I skipped it. The next problem was about marking coordinates on a grid. How did one do that? What had my tutor been teaching me? It looked like I was getting a big fat F on the test.

I was stumped, feeling the tears burn behind my eyes. I tried to hold them back, so none of the other kids would see me cry. I was so angry and disappointed. It appeared all of my studying had done nothing for me. I was about to give up, but decided to attempt one more problem. Instead of trying to figure out the question, I looked at it the same way I had the chess game. I closed my eyes and mediated for a moment, clearing my mind, then opened my eyes and looked at the problem. I didn't try to understand it, just observed it and waited. As I did, I could feel something in my head shift. After the shift, I looked again at the test. The numbers moved. Streaks of light followed their movement, the numbers lining up, the problems solving themselves! I was frightened. I peered around to see if anyone was seeing what I saw. No eyes were on me. I didn't know what to make of the phenomenon happening before me. Once in science, we had learned about a brain disease called schizophrenia. Was I getting it? Had I stressed myself out so much I was having a hallucination? I was about to fight it, but I remembered the chess game. In a way, there was something very linking about the two events. I couldn't process what it was, but it was similar. I decided to allow the vision, or whatever it was to play out.

When the problem finished solving itself, I was left with an answer, and I felt pure clarity. It was really hard to explain. I could see how the answer had to be right, without a shadow of doubt. It all made perfect sense. I could check the work, moving the numbers and graphs around in my head. I was so sure my answers had to be right. Either I had suddenly become a genius, or I was having one heck of a psychotic episode. I found this happened to every problem. When I was done, I knew I had gotten everything right.

I finished the test way before most of the class. With nothing else to do, I laid my head on my desk. The teacher walked up to me and tapped me. I sat up. He took the test and whispered to me.

"Don't feel bad, I am sure you did your best." His words distracted the test takers as they angrily glared at him. "If you want, you can go to tutoring now." I tried to quietly get up and walk out of class. I felt on fire. I can't really explain what I meant, but I felt a sort of burning in me, one filling me full of power.

I went to tutoring, and when the bell rang, to my next class. It was in geography. Since the school year was coming to a close, I would be testing the rest of the week in various classes. There was a test waiting for us. I was no longer nervous about any of it.

The geography test was given to me. Just like the beginning of the math test, I stared at in a complete stupor. I guessed my grandiose hallucination wasn't going to help me through that one. I hadn't been studying geography with Mandy. While I tried to make sense of the questions, I decided to do the same thing I had done on the math test. I closed my eyes and meditated and reopened them. I looked at the problem and waited. And then, with pure explicitness, a map appeared in my mind. I could see every landmark and topography of the map, being able to zoom in as close as I wanted, almost as if I was a satellite in space. The images were brilliant. I wanted to stand up and share my discovery with everyone. The anomaly thrilled me so much. In a way, I felt like I was cheating, for I had the best answer key in my own brain. I finished the test in twenty minutes then put my head on my desk. The teacher didn't excuse me to go to tutoring, so I let my mind wander. That was my last test for the day.

When I tutored with Mandy after school, I didn't tell her about my tests. I wasn't ready to share my experiences yet, sure that no one would believe me, besides; I was a tad bit afraid they would turn out to be sick hallucinations. I didn't want anyone to think I was crazy.

Peggy picked me up late from Mandy's. That night, she took me out on the boat. I didn't talk much, for my mind was occupied with the events of the day. For the same reasons I didn't tell Mandy about the tests, I didn't tell Peggy. We caught five fish.

Once home, instead of sleeping, I pulled up maps in my head. I could see them right in front of me. There were rays of light surrounding the maps. I pulled up a map for everywhere I could think of. I didn't sleep that night, filled with excitement of my new found abilities. What else was I capable of?

As I got ready for school the next morning, I could hear banging as someone was climbing up the stairs. The whole house shook; I wondered what had made Mike so mad. Unexpectedly, my bedroom door flew open. To my surprise, it was Peggy. She was fuming.

"That was the school that called. They said I better come in with you this morning. They won't tell me what it is about, but they said I should plan on bringing you back with me after the meeting, because you are suspended."

Her words made me choke on my spit. "What are your talking about?" I asked as I felt my stomach churn in fear.

"I don't know," she screamed. "But whatever it is, you know."

Peggy turned on her heals and marched out of the room. The house shook as she bounded down the stairs yelling, "I don't have time for this. I can't believe I have to leave today of all days. Today is when Jessica wakes up from the coma and realizes Rick has been seeing her sister during the coma." She was upset because she was going to miss her soap. Some mother!

We entered the school office, and all eyes were icily on me. I couldn't imagine what I had done. Principal Schmidt, Ms. LeAnn, and two of my teachers were in a conference room around an oval table. "Come in," Principal Schmidt said. We went in and sat down. I almost felt like I was in a meeting with the stuffy people.

"As you know, Jane took two tests yesterday. One in geography and one in math. Well, it turns out we have had a breach in our computer. We had been letting two students help teachers enter grades. They are both on the honor role, so we trusted those students by their academic merit. But, they taught us we must always use safeguards with students. If those two could betray us, any student could.

"They had hacked into the test bank and had copied the answers to several of the seventh grade tests that will be going on this week. They sold those answers to students for five bucks a piece. Mrs. Sanibel, Jane was one who had bought those test answer sheets."

His words felt like a slap across the face. What was he talking about? I hadn't bought any test answers. Who was spreading such wicked lies about me?

"That's not true!" I shouted. It was probably the loudest anyone had heard my voice. I was afraid at my outburst, and hung my head low.

"Jane, there is no way you could have gotten a perfect hundred percent on both tests with your fourth grade level of comprehension," Principal Schmidt said.

"I have been studying hard and using tutors," I wailed in my defense. I still didn't look up.

"Doesn't matter. They might have helped you to get hundred percent on a fourth grade level test, but not a seventh grade level test."

"I don't know why you would do this to us?" Ms. LeAnn said. She looked at me with disgust, and it hurt my feelings. "After all we have done, allowing you to stay in the seventh grade. Did you think cheating would help you from getting held back? We probably would have let you advance to eighth grade because you have been working hard, but we are not sure what to do with you now. This school holds a no cheating policy very tightly. We can't accept this kind of behavior at our school, do you understand?"

"I didn't cheat."

"Of course you did," Ms. LeAnn said smugly. "You didn't even try to hide it by getting some of your answers wrong." I really had to wonder about her counseling skills. There was something about her which always rubbed me wrong.

"Don't teach her better ways to cheat," Principal Schmidt warned Ms. LeAnn.

"Your right," LeAnn replied. "Sorry."

"But I didn't cheat," I cried again. "Go ask your honor students, they will tell you I didn't buy one of their stupid tests."

"Oh, it doesn't matter now. Those tests have been sold and resold and are everywhere. You could have bought it from a number of people," Principal Schmidt said.

"Jane, I will tell you what we are going to do. If you can tell us who you bought the test from, we will take one day off from your three day suspension."

"I am suspended?" I bawled.

"For sure," Principal Schmidt said. "We have a no cheating policy."

Peggy sat there unusually quiet.

"But I didn't cheat," I bellowed.

"Tell us the names," Principal Schmidt demanded.

"I have no names," I said, folding my arms into my lap in defiance.

"Well, whatever. It is your suspension. You will be off for three days. When you return on Friday, you will need to bring back a three page essay explaining why you should be allowed to return to ACYI and the lessons you have learned from your mistake."

Everyone but Peggy and I stood up.

"What about the rest of the tests this week?" I asked. "Am I going to miss them?"

"If it was up to me, you would. I don't think you should be allowed to advance to the eighth grade," LeAnn said.

"Back down," Principal Schmidt warned Ms. LeAnn. He turned to me. "Jane, the tests are put on hold until next Monday. All teachers are going to spend the next few days rewriting the tests. Do you have any idea how long it takes to write a test?"

"Next week is the last week of school, and some of the days are short. Heck, they aren't even here on Monday for Memorial Day. Are you really going to have them test next week?" Peggy asked.

"We have no choice. When they get back on Tuesday, it is our only full day that week. The kids will be testing in every period. This will leave the teachers with a ton of work checking them and getting grades in. This whole ordeal has really caused a lot of headache to all teachers."

Peggy grabbed my arm and yanked me out of the room. I had never seen her so mad, and it saddened me that she was mad at me. The car ride was uncomfortably silent. As soon as she pulled up to the house, she slammed the car in park and stomped inside the house. I slowly followed behind. What I really wanted to do was to run to the campground and have some alone time. But, I was afraid and decided I probably should go talk to Peggy first.

She was sitting in her chair, fuming at the TV. "I missed it," she growled when she turned it on.

I went and stood by her chair. She didn't look at me. A four year old looking boy dragged in a bottle of peanut butter from the kitchen. Peggy had left all the kids she babysat, again. Peggy looked down and quickly grabbed the jar from the four year old.

"Oh no, Thomas, you are allergic to peanuts." Peggy jumped up and scooped Thomas off the floor. She ran him into the bathroom and washed his hands for fifteen minutes. When she was done, she came back to her chair and sat down. A young kid came over, and said, "I'm hungy." Her small voice was so cute.

Peggy looked at the clock. "Yeah, well snack will be late today, because Alora made me go to the school, so you are going to have to wait."

"But, I hungy," she said again, while her big brown eyes welled up with tears.

"So be hungry then," Peggy barked. She pushed the little girl out of the way so she could see the TV. The girl ran out of the family room crying.

My heart felt bad for all the kids she babysat. She really was lousy at it. Since I didn't know what to do, I sat on the poky couch for an entire episode of a talk show where they were fighting about boyfriends. My legs wiggled out of control for I was so anxious. Finally, I decided if Peggy wasn't going to talk to me, then I was going to leave. I really needed some outside time to let the most terrible day of my remembrance blow away. I stood up and headed to the outside door.

"Just where do you think you are going, Ms.?" Peggy called after me.

I turned, "Uh, outside."

"Oh no you are not. You are grounded."

"Grounded, what does that mean?" I asked.

"It is a term I have never had to use with my own kids, because they are perfect."

I had to hold my laughter in. Was Peggy really claiming to have perfect kids? They weren't even close to great.

"Grounded means you don't go anywhere, you don't even leave the house until you return to school on Friday."

Three days stuck in the house! I wanted to puke. I couldn't stay inside consistently that long. I had to have fresh air. Did that also mean Peggy and I wouldn't take the boat out? I couldn't be trapped inside.

Sadly, I headed to the stairs.

"Just wait, we need to talk," Peggy said.

I stood with my back to her. "Turn around," she ordered.

Slowly, I turned and faced her.

"Why would you do that? I understand you don't want to be left behind, but that isn't the right way to solve it. Do you realize all they have done for you? They let you stay in the seventh grade, even though they shouldn't have. They provided you with tutors, and that costs them money to do so. They did all these things, then you cheat on a test. Why would you do that? It was almost as if you slapped them in the face."

"I didn't cheat," I said.

"Don't lie to me," Peggy warned in a low voice.

I wondered, "Why doesn't she trust me? I've been a good kid since I moved in. Your kids on the other hand are constantly yelling at you and not following through with promises. You never get after them, but here you are calling me hurtful things." I thought that but didn't dare say it.

"If you will listen to me," I pleaded. I needed her to understand me, to not see me as a cheater.

"Oh no, I don't listen to lies, Mrs. Sanibel never listens to lies."

"But I didn't cheat," I cried so intently that pressure swelled within my head. The tears were running down my thin cheeks, warm and slick.

"You know what, Missy? Since you are going to insist upon lying, you are grounded to your room. Do you understand me? Go up there and stay until tomorrow. I will have a plate of food sent up to you for dinner."

I stomped up the stairs to my room -like Mr. and Mrs. Sanibel did when they were mad-of course, I lacked the weight to shake the house like they could.

"And no sleep-overs in your room," she called after me. I slammed the door. It was the first time I had ever slammed it. I was shaking so hard, the anger welling inside me, bidding me to slam the door again.

How could she not trust me? Why would I cheat? I might not know much, but I was smarter than that.

I hated those three days. They were lonely and miserable. Peggy said I could come out on Wednesday, but to spite her, I stayed in my room. I didn't want to be around her anymore. If she couldn't trust me, than I wasn't going to trust her. I am sure Mike never noticed I was gone during those days.

Thursday night, Peggy brought her laptop into me.

"Write your essay."

"Sure," I said tartly. I had learned how to disrespect from her children, for they were pros at it. "Why am I doing this," I wondered. "Why am I being like a Sanibel kid?" But I couldn't stop, the ugliness I was displaying ignited a fire of frustration and hate, a fire that had been simmering inside for a very long time. Power and control filled me as I talked nastily, and I loved the feeling.

I knew what they wanted me to write. They wanted me to write how sorry I was for cheating, and to blubber on about how I wouldn't do it again, and on how much I wanted to return to school. But, I couldn't do that, for it would be a lie.

Peggy seemed to linger. "You can go now," I said in disdain. Her shocked look filled me with remorse, as much as I liked being a jerk, I hated it.

I typed my essay, simply telling them I had a moment of enlightening and that my past education was returning to me.

On Friday, Peggy waited until the last babysat kid was dropped off, then she locked up the house and drove me to school. I could feel her anger, with her eyes slit half-way closed, and her face contorted in rage. She probably despised being taken out of her house for the second time that week. Racing down the canyon, we ended at ACYI.

After parking her car, we went into the school and were escorted into the conference room, but this time only Ms. LeAnn and Principal Schmidt were there. They didn't stand up to welcome us as we entered. A reddish aura lingered around them.

"Give them your note," Peggy demanded.

"Essay," I smartly corrected.

"Whatever, give it to them," she snapped.

I didn't want to hand it to either one of them. Instead, I dropped it in the middle of the table. Both of them stared at it like a dragon coming to life, ready to eat them. Finally, Principal Schmidt extended his arm and grabbed it. He spent more time and energy reaching for it while sitting, than he would have if he had stood up to grab it. He handled it like it was poisonous, barely touching it with his fingertips, awkwardly opening it, skimming it, then demanding I read it out loud as he threw it on the table in front of me instead of handing it to me. It didn't seem very professional in my opinion.

I glared at him as I picked it up, noticing my own aura turning read. I didn't like seeing red around me, but I wasn't about to let go of my anger. I read my essay, and not once did I apologize or admit anything in it. I told my story of enlightenment. When I went to hand the essay back to Principal Schmidt, he wouldn't take it.

"You didn't do it right."

"I did tell the truth." I had meant to challenge him in a commanding voice, but it became a whisper as my eyes diverted to the table. Disappointment filled me. Why couldn't I be more aggressive?

"First you cheat, then you lie. Oh the tangled web we weave, when we practice to deceive."

"It's the truth," I whined.

"Sit down, Jane."

I sat.

"I think we were being kind, giving you one last chance. But, you couldn't even take that. I sure hate to do this, but since you couldn't comply with your restitution, you are suspended until you return for seventh grade next year." The principal said.

"No!" I screamed. "I don't want to do seventh grade again next year."

"Maybe next year you won't forget we have a strict no cheating policy," Ms. LeAnn said. She flashed me a look of triumphant, as if she had one upped me.

Principal Schmidt and LeAnn stood up. "That will be all," Principal Schmidt said.

They walked to the door, leaving Peggy and I dumbfounded. Sickness entered me. I didn't want to do seventh grade again. Just as Principal Schmidt reached the door, I shouted out.

"Ask me anything about seventh grade math."

"What?" he said, turning back in.

"Ask me anything. Let me prove to you I didn't cheat."

"This is ridiculous," he said as he turned his back to me. I could hear Ms. LeAnn ahead of him say, "5678950 divided by 99891." I couldn't see her since she had already left, but I could tell she was trying to be a jerk. Her problem seemed way too advanced for seventh grade math. I detested her.

I closed my eyes and focused my mind. I was surprised at how easy it was to shift into my intellectual field. When I did, the numbers aligned in my mind and effortlessly and quickly found the answer. "56.8574681002. It keeps going, but I will stop there."

Ms. LeAnn stopped walking, causing Principal Schmidt to run into the back of her. She stepped back into the room, holding her phone while she punched in the numbers to her equation.

"What was it again? 567...something divided by something. I can't remember what I said."

"You said 5678950 divided by 99891." I said it slow enough to give her time to put it in her calculator app. She looked up in amazement.

"Do that again," she challenged. "How about, 951159 divided by753357?"

The equation lined up and I saw all the steps in solving it. "1.262560, and this number keeps going." I was so fast. Ms. LeAnn hadn't even punched in all the numbers yet. When she did, she blankly stared at me. Principal Schmidt stared at the phone.

"Give her something hard," Principal Schmidt said. I couldn't believe he said that. I bet he couldn't solve that equation in his head. He left his office and came back with a paper, he showed it to me. "Here is a problem in one of my puzzles. A=PI*r2 if A=113.04sq ft and PI*=3.14 what is r?"

Again, the equation lined up in front of me, solving itself. When it was done, the answer was right in front of me, and very obvious. "r=6," I said.

"Get me a scrap paper and a pencil," Principal Schmidt said to Ms. LeAnn.

She ducked into her office and came back with a piece of paper and a pencil. He sat down and worked through the problem. "Hah! You are wrong. The answer is not 6; it is 23."

"Then you did it wrong," I said it with all confidence. "It is 6 and nothing else."

Principal Schmidt reworked the problem, then his head popped up. "Oops, I was wrong. The answer is 12."

"No, it is 6 and nothing else."

Principal Schmidt looked down at the paper. He had already used both sides. Just then, Marcus Skinner walked by, the sixth grade math teacher.

"Hey Marcus, get in here and solve this," he said.

Skinner sat down, and scribbled a few things down. "I need a scientific calculator," he said. Principal Schmidt ducked out of the room then returned with a calculator. Skinner worked the problem. "The r=6," he said.

"Are you sure?" Principal Schmidt asked.

"Yup," Skinner said as he was leaving the room. "Sorry, I need to get back to class."

Peggy watched in astonishment and so did Ms. LeAnn.

"I tell you I didn't cheat," I said. "Let's say I am getting some of my memory back."

"She has me convinced," Ms. LeAnn said.

"Listen," Principal Schmidt said with a beet red face. His aura was teal. He must have felt stupid about getting bested by the 'dumb seventh grader'. "We will let you back Tuesday for testing. Just to be sure, we will have you do all your tests up here in the office where we can keep an eye on you. If you attempt to cheat, you will be returning next year as a seventh grader."

"Thank you, thank you." I said. "Am I now free to go to class?"

Principal Schmidt looked at his watch. "There is going to be an awards ceremony in fifteen minutes. You aren't getting any. I will throw that out there right now. After the assembly is lunch. We had planned to test this week, but because of the cheaters, and since we had to push the tests to Tuesday, we really have nothing going on for the rest of the day. You are free to join us, or you can go home and return on Tuesday."

I looked at Peggy. "Doesn't matter to me," she said.

"I guess I'll go home and come back Tuesday, that is, if I am not still grounded."

"You're not grounded as long as you promise you didn't cheat," Peggy said. After what I proved, why did people keep telling me not to cheat? Wasn't it obvious, I could do this on my own?

"Thanks."

"Promise?" Peggy asked.

"Yes, I have already told you a hundred times I didn't cheat."

"Let's go," Peggy said.

At home, Peggy sat in front of the TV. I was tired and decided to go upstairs for a nap. I must have fallen asleep quickly because I was woken to Peggy flying through my bedroom doorway.

"Have you seen Emery?" she asked, her eyes were wild.

"Which one is Emery?"

"The three year old with red hair."

"Oh, she's cute."

"Yeah, but have you seen her?"

"No."

"Well get up and help me look. I can't find her," she said as she quickly left my room.

We searched everywhere for Emery, in every closet, under every bed; everywhere. I went outside and investigated bushes and crevices, also checking the shed and car. She was nowhere to be seen. I even went to the reservoir, almost expecting to see her little body floating on the water. Thankfully, I didn't find her there. A cold breeze from the water tingled against my skin. I hadn't grabbed a jacket and was chilled.

...

"Do you know for sure she came today?" I asked as I went back into the house.

"Yes, I know she came. Trevor is her brother. I remember they both came in eating jelly sandwiches."

"Have you asked Trevor where Emery is?"

"Oh no. I don't want him to tell him mom we lost Emery. So keep looking. She has to be hiding somewhere."

We searched for another hour then met back up in the family room.

"What am I going to do?" Peggy looked worried. Her face was ashen and she had an expression I had never seen on her. Her aura was ice-blue. She must have been petrified. I knew one day she would lose a kid. I had wanted it to happen to teach her a lesson, but now I felt sick about the whole thing. I hated seeing Peggy so worried, and I feared for Emery. I felt bad for wishing for this.

"I think you should call the police," I offered.

Peggy's eyes got super wide. "No way. No way! The NEWS would get wind of this story, and I would be ruined, ruined."

"Maybe she ran off. We need to call the police." I said again. Peggy needed to put her priorities straight. She bugged me sometimes.

"Don't you dare call the police," she warned. "Keep looking." Peggy's aura suddenly changed black. It creped me out. I no longer felt bad for her. She deserved whatever she got for losing a kid.

We searched until the rest of the Sanibel kids came home. They joined us, and we kept looking even while other parents were picking up the babysat kids. Then Peggy did something I had never seen her do before; she refused to allow any friends into the house. They were all sent home.

Finally, Emery's mom showed up for pickup. When she walked in the small entrance area, Trevor ran to her. "Mommy!" he called out as he flung himself into her open arms.

"How did the day go?" she asked Peggy while her eyes searched the room; looking.

"Uh, great, uh great," Peggy replied.

Peggy pulled out two water color pictures. "The kids did these today," Peggy said, handing them over. I had learned Peggy had a whole stack of crafts and papers. She would hand them out to the parents, claiming they had been part of the day's activities. What she really did was hand out things her own kids had made at home and school. Her kids were always sitting at the tables, drawing or making crafts with their friends. Peggy would collect their artwork and later hand them out to the parents of her daycare kids. She was always careful to cut off her kid's name, if they were on there. The worst thing I saw her do was make a whole pile of sloppy art work once. She took a paint brush and ran a few smears on a whole pile of papers. Later, she handed them out to the parents. She wanted to look as if she kept the kids engrossed in activities all day. It seemed to work, because the parents kept bringing their kids back to her. I had often heard lessons in her church about honesty. She must have been sleeping during those lessons. And she accused me of cheating.

Emery's mom took the pictures, but didn't look at them, for her eyes were still searching the room.

"I have something to tell you," Peggy said. The mom must have been able to hear the desperation in Peggy's voice, because she turned and looked at Peggy.

"Oh man, how do I start?" Peggy moaned. The mom looked worried at Peggy's hesitation.

"Well, I don't know how I did it, but I seem to have lost..." She stopped, she couldn't finish her words.

"Lost what?" the mom asked.

"Lost Emery."

The mom looked confused. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, I have been searching and searching, but I haven't been able to find Emery."

Just at that precise moment, Emery walked in the door from outside. She was coughing and a large ball of green snot ran down her face.

Emery's mom turned to Emery and shouted. "Back in the car. I told you not to come in here, because you'll get the other kids sick."

"But did you find my shoes?" Emery whined.

"I was about to ask Ms. Peggy about them. Now, get back to the car."

Emery's mom turned back to Peggy. "What do you mean you lost Emery?"

Peggy stammered for a minute, then she said. "I lost Emery's shoes. I was trying to tell you yesterday I had lost Emery's shoes. Well actually, I hadn't lost them, Emery had, but I still haven't been able to find them. I will keep looking for them."

"Please do," Emery's mom said tartly. "They cost a lot of money."

"Okay," Peggy said. Her face was pale and she was breathing heavily. I could see wet spots form under her armpits.

Emery's mom looked at the pictures in her hands. "What are these?" she asked as she looked at one with Emery's name scribbled on it.

"Uh, those are pictures the kids did yesterday," Peggy lied.

"Emery wasn't here yesterday," Emery's mom said. "She's been sick for two days."

"Oh, okay, that's right. They must have done the pictures earlier this week. Sometimes I get confused because I hang up all their artwork to dry in my art room and sometimes I get confused when they were done." Peggy sounded like she was burying herself.

"Well, I gotta run," the mom said. "Hopefully, Emery will be better Monday. Please keep looking for the shoes, because I really don't want to buy new ones. Have a good weekend."

Trevor and his mom left the front door. Another parent slipped in and picked up the last kid. When all were gone, Peggy slid down the hall wall and landed pretty hard on her rump. Her weight left a small indentation in the wall.

"Mercy me, can you believe that? We spent our whole day looking for her, and she wasn't even here. Wasn't even here! See, that's why I told you not to call the cops. Can you imagine how embarrassing that would have been?"

"I thought you said you remembered the mom dropping them off with jelly sandwiches today?" I said.

"That must have been yesterday's memory," she concluded.

"But, she wasn't here yesterday," I reminded her.

"Okay, what are you getting at?" Peggy said as she ran her fingers through her brown hair and let out a long sigh.

I looked at her still sitting on the floor, holding her head. Her brow was drenched in sweat. I couldn't believe what an irresponsible babysitter she was. Emery hadn't been there for two days, and Peggy hadn't even noticed. I sure hoped the experience was enough to scare her so she didn't ever leave all those kids alone again.

Angela walked into the entry way. "Is her mom going to sue?"

She must have not heard the conversation. She probably thought Emery was still lost. Peggy stared off into space.

"It turns out she never was dropped off this morning," Peggy finally said.

"Ha, ha, ha!" Angela called out. "What a bonehead you are. Since it is over, can we have friends over now?"

"No, not tonight," Peggy said weakly. "I don't feel too good."

"But Mom," Angela whined. "It's Friday Pizza Night." For a teenager that was always trying to act too old for everything, Angela sure whined a lot.

"Not this night," Peggy said.

"But Mom, Kevin..."

"NOT TONIGHT!!!!!" Peggy screamed.

"Bonehead," Angela growled as she turned down the hall and went to the family room.

"There is no pizza night tonight," I heard her tell the others. "And no friends, either."

Immediately all the kids came running to where we were.

"Mom, mom, mom..." They whined together.

I think for the first time in Sanibel history, Friday Pizza Night was cancelled.

# Chapter 16

The test-

Saturday came, wonderful Saturday when all the Sanibels left for soccer games. I loved Saturdays; however, I was bummed to learn the season ended that day. In the future, when was I going to take my full shower and get the peace and quiet I only got when everyone was gone?

After my shower, I sat on the bed and thought about what laid ahead of me. The school year was almost over. I really hoped I would do well on _ALL_ the tests so I didn't have to get stuck in seventh grade again. I was sad school was almost over. What was I going to do all summer long in a house full of Sanibels? The summer looked grim to me. I had really started to like school, making friends. It was my break from home life. The next year I would be going to Box Elder Middle School. I heard it was bigger and had even more kids. The thought made me a little nervous. Maybe I should just redo seventh grade and stay at the smaller school.

Peggy didn't take me out on the boat. I hadn't been out all week. My fish supply was exhausted, and I was starving -and besides- I missed our special time together. It felt like there was a divide between us, one only the reservoir could fix.

.Sunday came. Again, I was awakened way too early by London.

"How was your week?" she asked pulling me away from a good dream.

As I stretched and sat up, I decided not to tell her about my week. It had been dreadful. "Not much happened," I said through my dry, groggy voice. My throat felt so dry. I could smell my own breath, and it was honorific. London took a seat on the four-wheeler and immediately told me about her week. As she rambled on, I wondered if she was there to visit me, or to have someone listen to her. Why did she keep coming to see me? I didn't say another word until she looked at her watch. "Eek, it's almost seven. I don't want to be here when Peggy comes out." She jumped up, gave me a kiss on my cheek, and then ran out the door. I was tired, so I crawled back into my blankets on the cot. Peggy didn't come out to get me until 7:15am.

When she did, I wanted to fake like I was sick and stay home, but I didn't. I was afraid if Peggy thought I was sick, then she wouldn't take me out on the boat. I am not sure why she insisted I go to her church. It was a good church and all, even though I really didn't have any other church to make reference to. Everyone there seemed to genuinely believe and care for the things they talked about, but I wasn't sure I wanted religion in my life. I was learning most of the world seemed to embrace religion in some form or another, and I was sure one day I might as well, but not at that point in my life. I was too overwhelmed trying to decide who Alora Funk was.

Peggy beckoned me into the house. I guess I was glad I didn't play sick, because later that night, she took me out on the water. It was a fabulous night for catching fish. We caught nine of them. Peggy must have forgotten it was Sunday, because usually she didn't let us fish on Sunday. It was a good thing we did fish, because Peggy didn't say much. I think she was still shaken up from the whole Emery experience. At least fishing gave us something to do, plus it resupplied my freezer. I was tired of always being hungry.

Memorial Day came and we went to the cemetery for a flag ceremony, then to the park for a pancake breakfast. After the breakfast, we returned to the cemetery to put flowers on some of Mike's relative's graves. I was real tempted to ask him about his heritage, but I noticed how solemn he was. He must have been missing his loved ones.

After the cemetery, we went to the Brigham City Pool for swimming.

...

I awoke Tuesday with what felt like a lump in my stomach, fearful for the tests. What if the answers didn't come to me this time? Then it would surely look like I had cheated on the last tests. I tried to play sick, but Peggy called my bluff and sent me to school anyways.

Once I was at school, I was taken to the familiar testing room, the one I had started my ACYI school career in. In one of the desks, a secretary sat to keep a watch on me. She had been reading when I came in.

"I have strict instructions to watch you," she said. "Don't even think about cheating with me in here." She warned. "You will be doing five tests. You will have four breaks."

"I don't cheat." I said in defense.

"Sure, that's what they all say."

"Does it matter which one I do first?"

"Nope. Don't cheat," she said as she opened her book and read.

I grabbed the math test from her desk. I meditated before looking at the first problem. Immediately, the numbers lined up and went through all the steps of the equation. An answer was quickly produced. I smiled, for I still had it. It took very little time to work through the math test. The science test was a breeze. I could remember struggling with the very content a week ago. But now, everything made sense. If there was a science experiment I had to read about, my mind would set it up, then run through the experiments. It was almost like I was there. Even though it was only in my mind, I could determine if the project would be successful or not. I was half way through geology when the bell rang to excuse classes. The secretary told me to take a small break and to return when the bell rang again.

It felt good to stretch and walk around. When the bell rang the second time, I went back to the classroom and continued testing. I worked until the next bell rang. She allowed me another break. Twenty minutes into the third hour of testing, I was done with all five tests.

"Done," I said," as I put my pencil down. The secretary looked up from her book.

"Okay, start the next one." If she was there to watch me, she really had no idea what was going on. I had come and gotten all five tests off her desk. Had she not noticed? I could have opened a text book and cheated right in front of her. She would have been oblivious.

"No, I mean I am done with all the tests."

The secretary looked at her watch. "There is no way you could be done so quickly."

"Well, I am."

"These tests are supposed to last you the whole day. Are you sure you want to give up and not even try and take your time?"

"I got them all right. What more can I do?" I said smartly. I was really tired of the way the school was treating me. I was not a cheater.

"Whatever, it's your grade. I don't know what to do with you. I had instructions to stay the whole day in here while you tested. Why don't you take a nap on your desk or doodle on the tests until school is out?" That sounded like a long, drawn out day. I put my head on my desk and slept. The dismissal bell kept waking me, but I easily drifted back to sleep. At the end of the day, I was allowed to leave.

The rest of the week was anticlimactic. With the shortened school days, the week flew by. Before I knew it, it was Pizza Friday, May twenty ninth, and school was done for the year. No one had called and told us what my tests scores were. I was the only kids who didn't get sent home with a report card. When Peggy called the school asking why, they said my scores were too complicated to compute. They assured her I had passed what had been expected of me.

"Does that mean she gets to go to eight grade next year?" Peggy asked.

She was told my grade placement was yet to be determined. I groaned. What if that meant they were holding me back again?

# Chapter 17

The summer break-

Sunday morning, I was awoken by London. I was getting tired of her early morning visits. Maybe now that summer had started, we could change the visit times. I bet she would even appreciate not having to get up so early.

"So school is out for the summer. I bet you are so very, very excited. Summer break was always my favorite time of the year. I just loved playing outside, and I would always get so tan. How did you do in school? What were your final grades? Did you find seventh grade hard? What did Peggy think about..." London kept talking but I had stopped listening. She talked so fast, my mind went numb. I actually fell back to sleep. When she noticed, she shook me awake.

"Wake up, you sleepy head," she said. Before she could start talking again, I cut into her rambling. "Can you take me to the home they found me in?"

The color in her face disappeared and she looked frightened. "Why would you want to go to that awful place? I am not sure what type of tortures they did to you, but there isn't a good spirit in there. I think they should bulldozer the place down. It really isn't fair to sell it to anyone."

"Please," I said, interrupting her. "I really want to remember who I was. Since they found me there, maybe going in that house will bring back my memories. It is really important to me."

London shuttered at the thought. "I don't know, Alora, I am not sure I can handle going in there again."

"Please," I pleaded. I tried to make myself look pitiful and desperate, because I really was.

"Why don't you have your foster parents take you?"

"Mike will only get off the video games for three things: soccer games, work, and church. There is no way he will take me. Peggy is too lazy to take me. I really need this chance to see if I can get my memories back."

"Let me think about it."

We both could hear the crunching of the grass as footsteps approached the shed. London looked at her watch.

"It's Peggy. What am I going to do, she can't find me here?" London looked like she was in a real panic.

I looked around. "Hide in the boat, quick. There are blankets in there, crawl under them." London squeezed past the four-wheeler and tucked herself into the boat as Peggy walked through the door.

"Well, look who's up. Are you ready for church?"

"Please tell me that it's not fast Sunday."

"Yes it is, and what a blessing for us to be able to participate in it. Hurry inside," she said as she left the shed.

It took London some effort to climb out of the boat. She hit her knee and silently growled.

"London, why don't you want Peggy to know you are here?"

London looked at her watch. "Peggy is expecting you inside, and I have to get back to a meeting. I will tell you next Sunday."

"Wait," I said as she reached for the door. "Please no more early morning Sundays. School is out now, so can we do another day?"

"What are you thinking?"

"How about you come pick me up sometime this week and take me to Bountiful to see my home?" I asked.

"You still want to go?"

"The Russians are no longer in it, right?"

"Right."

"Please?" I begged.

"Okay, if you so desire, but I did try to warn you it is a bad idea. I will meet you at the Country Store June tenth, two Wednesdays from now.

"Sounds good," I replied as we both left the shed.

...

I was already tired of summer by the end of the first week of June. There wasn't anything to do. The kids ran amuck in the house, and so did all five hundred of their friends. Alright, maybe not five hundred, but it sure felt that way sometimes. I guess in the Sanibel home during the summer, every night except Saturday night was sleepover night. I wondered if the other parents in the neighborhood ever saw their kids in the summer. I had moved out into the shed, because there were always kids sleeping in my room.

I didn't mind the shed. In fact, I loved it. It was the one place I could call my own. The only other person that ever went in it was Peggy, and that was only to get the boat. With having the shed to myself, I spent a lot of time in it to escape the mayhem of the Sanibel home. When I was lucky, the freezer was full of fish. If Peggy would let me, I would sleep in there year round. Taz and I had gotten pretty close. Really, I was the only one who paid any positive attention to him. Sure, sometimes the younger kids would tease him, but that was negative attention in my opinion. I started taking Taz on all my walks. We would go to the camp ground, or the reservoir. There were times Taz didn't go on walks with me, because I didn't know where to find him. The Sanibels let him wander the neighborhood. I hated when I couldn't find him.

One day, I was walking alone along the busy highway in the canyon. I didn't have Taz. I hadn't been paying attention as I walked and was startled when a car full of teenagers pulled up to me.

"You want a lift somewhere?" the driver asked.

"Where you going?" I asked back.

"We haven't figured that out yet. But you see, I am kind of like the third wheel here. If you came along, I wouldn't be left out. You could be my date," the driver said.

I was shocked. Was he really asking me on a date? I really didn't know how to answer. I didn't know anything about guys or dates.

"Come on," he said coaxing me.

The passenger door opened, and the male teen in front ducked in the back to be with his girlfriend.

"Oh, look, a spot opened for you," the driver said. "Get in."

I felt apprehensive, but I decided to join them. I had never been invited to hang out with anyone before. I walked over to the passenger side and climbed in. My nerves were burning. Adrenaline was surging through me. It was so risky and exciding at the same time.

"I am Joe," the driver said.

"Hailey," the girl in the back said.

"Traydon," the other boy said.

"What is your name?" Joe asked me. He had long black hair, covering some of his eyes. He was wearing a black music T-shirt. Both of his ears were pierced. He looked different than my foster brothers. He intrigued me.

"Oh, I am Alora Funk." The words were hard to say for I was so worried about saying something wrong, something stupid.

"Alora Funk," he said. "I like your name. Well, Alora, where should we go?"

I shrugged.

Joe turned around and faced Traydon in the back. "Shall we?" he asked.

Traydon looked very jittery. "Yes, let's do it."

Traydon and Joe put their head's out the window and howled in excitement. Joe peeled away from the shoulder of the highway, kicking up a lot of dust behind us. After we got out of Sardine Canyon, we drove through Logan, then through Logan Canyon.

If I thought Sardine Canyon was beautiful, Logan Canyon blew it away. The trees tripled the amount in the canyon, thickly growing, full of green life. The road was surrounded by very high mountain sides, reaching the clouds. They were rugged and majestic, full of power and control. Something inside beckoned me to get out and climb to their summit.

As Joe sped dangerously fast along the narrow, winding roads, their chatter never ended within the car. They seemed interested to have me along, as if I was a new audience to share all their stories with. Some of the things they bragged about made me uncomfortable. Regret quickly entered in me. Why had I gone with them? I had no idea who they were. As I watched them, I noticed all three had brown auras, which made me even more nervous. I wish I had recognized their auras before I had gotten in. Brown usually meant restless and troubled in a bad way. I wanted to get out. My stomach churned in worry. Why was I with them? I didn't even know where we were.

With my stomach still protesting, we reached the summit of the canyon. At the top we over-looked the valley and lake below. Bear Lake was a brilliant turquoise color, erasing my fears, inviting me to its edge. The rest of the area was sparse in trees. But that lake. It was stunning. I wanted to dive into it from the top of the mountain. I looked ahead at the winding road. We still had a ways to travel. The lake excited me, and the teens frightened me.

...

Joe pulled up to a small, A-frame house right on the beach of the lake.

"Let's go," he said as he climbed out of the maroon colored car. My muscles were stiff, I reached to the sky, stretching them out. The others seemed to be doing the same.

"Ah, this is the life," Joe said. He draped his arm over my shoulder, as if we were a couple. I felt so awkward, out of place. Should he be touching me like that? The sun shone brightly sending heat through my black shirt. The air smelt clean and fresh. There was a calming effect to the area. I relaxed. I couldn't wait to see the water. Maybe I had been overreacting, nothing bad was going to happen. It was just a few friends getting together and enjoying being a teen, something I knew nothing about.

"Indeed," Traydon agreed.

"Let me go get the hide-a-key," he said as he ducked around back and quickly appeared with a key. Traydon and Hailey clapped their hands as Joe put the key in the lock and opened the door. We went into a dark room. It had heavy golden curtains, blocking out all the light. There was a musty, mildew smell in there. I didn't liked the closed feeling. I wanted to run back outside. Traydon went around opening the curtains while Joe sprayed the room in a cinnamon sent.

"Whose house is this?" I nervously asked. I wasn't sure if we should be there.

"This is my grandma's place," Joe answered as he continued to spray.

"Does she know we are here?" I asked.

"No, and she ain't going to find out either," he said with a smirk.

I didn't like the sound of that. My skin was crawling, because I didn't like being there. Something inside me wanted to scream and run. But I didn't.

"What should we do first?" Joe asked.

"Swim," Hailey and Traydon said in unison.

"Does that sound good, Alora?"

"I don't have a suit."

"That's okay. My grandma has a drawer full of them for all her grandkids."

At first I didn't like the idea of wearing someone else's swimsuit, but then I remembered all my clothes were given to me from someone else. I went with Joe and picked a suit out of the drawer.

...

Although I knew we shouldn't be there, I must admit we had a blast in the lake. There was a garage next the beach and it was full of kayaks, rafts, and all sorts of water toys. We dragged everything out. I was taken aback by how cold the water was when I first walked in it. It was even colder than Mantua Reservoir, taking my breath away. I couldn't breathe. The coldness seized up my muscles. The more we swam around, the warmer we got. We stayed in the water for several hours until everyone had blue lips and fingers. Finally Joe called the swimming to a close. We dragged all the toys back into the garage and went into the house.

Inside, we stood wrapped in our towels in the kitchen. Below us, puddles of water formed. All of us had chattering teeth. I couldn't wait to get my clothes back on and warm up.

"I have the perfect thing to warm us up," Joe said as he reached into a top cupboard and pulled out a bottle of Vodka. "This is what the Russians use to warm up, and it is colder there than here."

Traydon and Hailey got hyper to the thought. Hailey was shivering out of control. "Let me get changed first," she said.

"Yes, everyone get changed and meet me out here in five minutes."

I went into a room and closed the door. I felt sick. I really shouldn't have taken a ride with those kids. I didn't like what they were doing. I knew drinking was bad. At school, we had learned about the ill effects of alcohol on the body, especially young bodies like our own. My science teacher had given all of us a contract to sign, promising him we wouldn't drink until we were twenty one. I had signed that contract. I also remember some things being said about drinking at Peggy's church. Drinking was something I didn't want to do.

I quickly got changed. I could hear the party start through the door. I wasn't brave enough to tell them no. What was I going to do? I paced around the small room, nervous and scared. I felt sick. I must have been in there too long, because I heard pounding on the door.

"Hey Alora, what is taking you so long?" I couldn't tell if the voice belonged to Traydon or Joe.

"Give me another minute," I replied.

"Hurry!"

I noticed a large window in the room. It easily slid open. I had to get out of there. I crawled out the window, and ran.

...

I kept running until I came to a small gas station, my limbs shaking from fear, lungs gasping for breath. I was angry for getting into a situation like that. They were not my type of crowd. I was a good kid and didn't like breaking the law. I went into the gas station to settle my nerves and think. The smell of hot dogs and warm bread tempted my senses, and I realized despite the knots in my stomach, I was hungry. In the refrigerated section, I found a pre-wrapped sandwich. I had a little cash on me that London had given me some time ago.

I had seen Peggy buy a few things and thought I could do it by myself. As I was buying it, I asked the clerk, "Can I use your phone?"

"Sure," he said, as he pulled it out from under the counter. My fingers were shaking as I dialed home. No one answered. I called again, and again. Still no one answered. That made me so angry. I knew everyone was home.

As I was dialing home for the sixth time, I saw Joe's car in the median, getting ready to pull into the gas station.

"What's wrong?" the clerk asked. I must have turned as white as a ghost. My hand was jerking the phone around as it shook.

"Those kids are after me," I said shaking.

The clerk looked at them as they got out of the car. "Here, come hide behind the counter," he offered.

I quickly ducked behind it before they walked in.

"I'll check the girl's room," I could hear Hailey say.

"Go look behind all the shelves," Joe commanded.

I heard feet shuffle around, then they congregated back together in front of the counter.

"How could she stand me up like that?" Joe growled. I could hear disgust in his voice.

"Where else would she go?" Traydon replied. "We have checked everywhere. There really isn't anywhere else to go."

"Can I help you with something?" the clerk asked.

"No, we are fine," Hailey snapped at him.

"Are you going to buy something?" the clerk asked.

No one replied.

"Hey, I am sick of teens coming here and loitering about. You may buy something, or leave," the clerk said.

"Your customer service sucks," Joe barked.

"Will you sell us some cigarettes?" Traydon asked.

"Do you have ID?" the clerk responded.

"Uh, I left it at home."

"Do I have to call the police on you?" the clerk said.

Those were the magic words. They cleared out real quickly.

After a few minutes the clerk turned and looked down at me. "They are gone," he said.

I stood up. I couldn't see them in the parking lot, or in the street. "Thank you," I said. I went around the counter.

"Do you still need the phone?" he asked.

I looked out the window and noticed it was dusk, almost dark. I was scared. I shouldn't be at Bear Lake. Peggy was going to kill me. I picked up the phone and called again, and again. Still no answer.

I tried Mandy. She answered on the second ring. I didn't know I was going to be emotional, but with the first words out of my mouth, I cried. "Can you please come pick me up? This is Alora."

"What's wrong?" Mandy asked sympathetically over the phone. I could hear the worry in her voice.

"I'll tell you later," I said.

"Okay, I will be there in ten minutes."

"Um...I'm not home. I am actually..." I paused for a moment. "I am at Bear Lake."

"BEAR LAKE? What are you doing there? Did your family's van break down? I don't have room for all of you."

"No, it's just me."

"What are you doing in Bear Lake?"

"Can I tell you later?"

"Sure, give me a few minutes and I will head out. Where am I going to?"

I really wasn't sure, so I had the clerk explain the directions to Mandy. The clerk was compassionate enough to let me wait in the store until Mandy showed up.

...

I could hardly look Mandy in the eye when she picked arrived. It was fully dark by then. Shame filled me.

"I almost hit four deer on the way here. I am really not comfortable making a long drive back in the night. We are going to have to get a hotel. I hope you don't mind," she said.

I felt horrible. I had really made a mess of things. I handed Mandy the rest of my money. "I know this doesn't even cover the gas," I said.

Mandy handed it back. "Don't worry about it," she said.

Mandy checked us in at a cute inn. I spent the rest of the night trying to call the Sanibels to tell them where I was. They never answered. I wanted to at least leave them a message, but their voicemail was full. That night, Mandy didn't ask me to explain to her what I was doing in Bear Lake. She was tired from the drive. We quickly fell asleep. In the morning, we got up early and left.

...

As she drove, I explained everything to her.

"I am sorry. I messed things up," I said through my tears when I had finished telling my story.

"Don't be sorry," Mandy said. "I am proud of you."

"How can you be proud of me?"

"I am. You stuck up for yourself. It is hard to do the right thing sometimes. You could have stayed and drank, but that would have only led to more bad places. I bet it took a lot of courage for you to climb though that window and run away. I am so proud of you!"

"Yeah, but I shouldn't have been there in the first place."

"I am not sure anyone can blame you. In a way, you are like an infant, everything in life is new to you. You don't know when situations are bad. Most kids your age should know better than to take rides from strangers, but who has taught you that? I doubt the Sanibels have. These are things you learn as you grow up. You learn a lot about it in elementary when they teach stranger danger. They really stop teaching it by the time you are a teen, because they expect you to already know it. Since you can't remember your past, it also means you can't remember some of the past lessons you were taught. No one can blame your for trusting others for rides. I hope from this point on, you take this as a learning lesson and never do it again."

"I promise," I said.

Mandy stopped at a little diner in Logan and we got breakfast. It was 11:00am when she dropped me off at the Sanibels'.

"You be sure to explain everything to Peggy like you did to me. If she is angry, then you have her call me."

"Okay, and thanks for coming to get me. I am sorry you had to get a hotel."

"Alora, you made a good choice last night. If me driving all the way to Bear Lake kept you innocent and virtuous, I would do it again. Please, call me if you ever need me."

I slithered into the home, expecting a full tongue lashing from the Sanibels. Peggy glanced my way from her recliner, but she didn't say anything. She didn't look mad, or happy, just zoned to the TV like always. No one said anything to me. I realized no one had even noticed I had been gone. I was a bit relieved they didn't know, yet simultaneously disappointed they didn't know. It made me feel unimportant.

My trip to Bear Lake had been a real life lesson, but after that, the summer dragged. I sure wished it would end soon and I could get back in school. I can't say I particularly loved school, but it did give me an outlet, something to do.

# Chapter 18

The cement room-

Wednesday June tenth came. At noon, I went to the Country Store to meet with London. The parking lot was empty. I waited until 12:30. When she hadn't shown up, I headed back home. I hadn't gotten very far when she came driving down the street. She pulled up next to me and parked, bidding me into her car.

"Hey Alora, are you sure you still want to go to your old home? I still worry it might be a negative experience for you."

"Yes. I really think it will help me discover who I am."

"Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you."

We drove on the freeway, surrounded by angry, fast drivers. London stayed cool and composed as she drove the speed limit to the tee. Her obedience to the traffic laws seemed to upset everyone else. She explained to me their desire to break the law should not influence her speed.

We got off the freeway from the Bountiful exit and ended up driving up a steep street. The homes became larger and larger. The neighborhoods looked very different from Mantua, appearing new and immaculate with well-manicured lawns.

"How are these house all so big?" I wondered out loud.

"I don't know, some people like big houses. I have a big house."

"The Sanibels sure could use a big house. They don't have enough room for everyone as it is," I said still gasping at the homes we were passing.

"It might surprise you, but most of the people live in these homes only have a couple of kids. Most people don't have families as large as yours."

"Are you serious? You mean small families live in these _HUGE_ homes, while huge families everywhere else live in small homes?"

"Yes. But, your home isn't all that small. It is a good sized home. There are people with much smaller homes than your own."

"Hmm, it doesn't make sense," I replied.

"Not much in life makes sense."

We pulled into our last street, then London drove into the driveway of a gigantic home.

"Whoa, is this where I lived?" I asked.

"No, this is my home." For the moment, I had forgotten she had lived across the street from the Russians and me.

"How many kids do you have?" I asked as I stared at her oversized home.

"Two, but they aren't here right now. They are both at summer camp."

"What is summer camp?"

"There are lots of summer camps. This one is science based. They get to live there and spend the week doing experiments and learning things."

"Do they sleep in tents?"

London laughed. "Oh no. They are put up in a nice hotel. Their camps are actually held right there in one of the hotel's conventional room. There they have all the luxuries of modernization. At the end of the week, they will come home."

I was so sick of summer, not having anything to do. "I want to do something like that," I expressed.

"Talk to your foster parents; however, I doubt they could afford something like that."

I thought her last comment was a bit out of place.

"Why are we at your house?" I asked as she climbed out of the car.

"I needed a place to park. Don't worry, we are going across the street right now to see your old home.

I jumped out of the car and spun around. The house across the street was the same style as London's. It had different siding colors.

"That's my home?" I said as I ran across the street.

"Alora, get back here."

I cruised past the "For Sale" sign and ran up to the door. It was locked. A small grey box hung from the door knob. I was disappointed I couldn't get in. I remembered London saying how she went in from the back door. London hadn't even fully crossed the street when I darted to the back sliding door. It was locked. Dejected, I came back to the front and met up with London.

"If I can't get in then I won't get any of my memories back." I just had to get inside.

London had a sly smile on. "Well, it's your lucky day. I know everyone. I have the code to the lock box to get the key out and go inside." London held the grey box in her hand and turned the numbers. When she was done, she pulled on the box, but nothing happened. I tensed up at her fail. I really wanted to go inside. She tried to pull it open again, and still nothing happened. I clutched my right arm tight. She then tried redoing the numbers, and the box opened. She pulled the silver key out and handed it to me. It shined in my hand.

"You can do the honors." I took the key and looked at it, not fully sure how to use it. The Sanibels never locked their door. Placing it to the lock, I couldn't get it to slide in. I tried again, but it was met with resistance. London watched me struggle then finally grabbed the key from me and unlocked the door with it.

We went inside. The room was well lit from the large, open windows. None of them had curtains on them like they had in London's story. There were no small tables or chairs either, the place was bare.

"Where is everything?" I asked.

London looked jittery and clapped her hands. "Are your remembering the furniture that used to be here?"

"No, I remember you saying something about it."

"Oh," she frowned. "They took that all out. The house is for sale now."

"Hey, maybe the Sanibels could buy it," I said with hope.

"I don't think that would be a good idea." London looked frightened by the thought.

Without an invitation, I explored the main floor. With so much space in the front room and kitchen, I was surprised there were only three bedrooms on the main floor, regardless, they were huge. They could have been closed off and made into three more rooms. Everything was so cramped in the Sanibel home.

Nothing from the main floor opened my memories at all. Since I had been found in the cement room, maybe my memories were in there. I went downstairs to the large door in the back of the basement. My heart leapt as I realized the infamous room was on the other side. Slowly I turned the door knob, my hand shaking, and I went into the room. My nerves jumped, startled to find London already in it. Unexpectedly seeing her there had scared me.

It was chilly in the room despite the heat of the rest of the house. I took my finger and traced it along the cold slab of cement. I inhaled deeply, to see if a recognized the smell in there. Nothing. I walked in circles around the room several times, then I turned to London with sadness.

"I don't remember anything. Are you sure this is where I lived for years?"

London nodded.

"It's not doing a thing for me. I really thought it would." I noticed the room had a mustard yellow aura. A shiver went down my back. I did not like the way the aura made me feel.

London came over to me and put her thick arm around my shoulders. "I am so sorry, Alora. Maybe it is for the best."

I couldn't believe that. Even if they had tortured me there, didn't I deserve to know it? I tried to stop the tears, but they came anyways. I was so disappointed.

"How about we forget this place and go get ice cream?" she said.

I wasn't ready to leave. I desperately wanted answers and had expected to find them there. Glum, I sat on the floor. I would stay there until my memories returned. Unsure of what to do, London lowered her large body onto the ground next to me. She pulled me into her and held me for over an hour. Her warmness softened my sorrow, but not by much. My bottom eventually got sore from the hard cement, but I wanted my memories.

Finally, London said, "Alora, please. Let's go. There is a bad spirit in this home. I can feel it. I am ready to leave, and you should be too."

She was right. I could sense something dark and negative there. I let her pull me up. I was upset I had failed to retrieve my memories. I had been convinced I would find them there. We walked out of the house, and I could feel the negativity melt off my shoulders.

"Let's get ice cream," London said as she held my hand and led me across the street to her waiting car.

I didn't want ice cream. I didn't want anything. I was so disappointed I hadn't figured out who I was. The house was the only clue to my past. No one else knew a thing about me. If I couldn't find my past at the house, then I concluded I would never know who I was.

# Chapter 19

The prestigious opportunity-

Summer continued to drag.

On June twenty sixth, some unexpected visitors came to the Sanibel house inquiring about me. It was Principal Schmidt from ACYI, and a Dr. Ludwig Van Hassel. Seeing Principal Schmidt there, my soul filled with dread. Ever since he thought I was a cheater, he had treated me pretty cold. Why had he come to our house? The only reason I could think of was to tell me I had to redo seventh grade, or worse, start sixth. Mike led the uninvited guests into the family room. I followed behind with great anxiety. To my horror, the place was trashed. There were clothes all over the floor along with plates of half eaten food. I hadn't noticed how bad the place smelled until the visitors came, then I realized it reeked in there. Peggy didn't get up from her recliner to say hi. She looked annoyed to have them come during her soap. She gave them a crusty stare. Since no one invited them to sit, I quickly cleared all the garbage off the couch and motioned them over. They probably thought I was as sloppy and piggish as the rest of the Sanibels. I wish they knew I wasn't.

"We are here to talk about Jane," Principal Schmidt said. Mike stood with his back against the wall. He was a little friendlier than Peggy, but not by much.

"What has she done now?" Peggy moaned, but she didn't take her eyes off the TV. The two men shot a strange look at each other.

"This isn't about what she has done, but about what we can do for her," Dr. Van Hassel said. Peggy didn't act like she heard them. They sat there in silence for a moment, waiting for her to respond, but she didn't. It became clear they weren't going to get a proper audience from her. By then, Mike had already abandoned them and gone to his room to play the XBOX. The thought hit me, why was Mike even home? He should have been at work. The men shifted their bodies and faced me. I might be the only audience they got.

"Jane, this is Mr. Ludwig Van Hassel. He is in charge of a prestigious science camp at Harvard University. Mr. Van Hassel will tell you about it."

"Thank you, Principal Schmidt. Jane, I am actually Dr. Van Hassel."

"Sorry about that," Principal Schmidt said sheepishly.

"Speaking of names," I meekly interjected. "My name is Alora Funk."

"What?" Dr. Van Hassel asked looking confused.

"Oh yes, we do need to get that changed on the records," Principal Schmidt said. Was he actually sucking up to me in front of Dr. Van Hassel?

"Honest mistake, really," Dr. Van Hassel replied. "Alora, you must be wondering what I am doing in your living room. The truth of the matter is, I have flown all the way out here to tell you about a very special program we have at Harvard. It is a science focused summer camp. This is a very prestigious camp where kids your age apply to almost a year in advance. The camp starts July sixth and goes until August fifth. We receive close to a thousand applicants, but we only allow twenty kids into the program. When I tell you it is a prestigious opportunity, don't take my words lightly. The camp starts for seventh graders going into eight grade. As long as you keep up on your work and receive high merit then we invite you back the sequential years until your high school career is over. Alora, I must stress to you having this camp on your resume gives you a twenty three percent higher chance at being accepted into Harvard to start your sophomore year."

I looked at him. I really didn't know where he was going with everything. "Don't you understand what I am saying?" he asked.

"Maybe," I said. At that time, I had no idea what Harvard was or the potential it represented.

"We are prepared to offer you a spot at this camp."

I almost wet my pants. "What? Why?" Who was I to be offered such a spot? Hadn't I spent the last few months being told how stupid I was?

"LeAnn Humphry is my niece," Dr. Van Hassel said.

I looked at him in confusion.

"Ms. LeAnn, the guidance counselor," Principal Schmidt clarified.

"Oh," was all I could say.

"When LeAnn told me about you, I was blown away. Such progress you made from your entrance into her school. LeAnn has never been one to exaggerate or to glorify a situation. If she said you scored perfectly on those entire tests, I have no reason to doubt her. She also told me about the little math game you played in the office. She said there was no stumping you. I realized the extent to your brilliance. I flew all the way out here to offer you a spot at our camp, that is, if you can pass a few tests of ours first."

Ugh, more tests.

"Are you willing to do this?" he asked me, as he stared intently into my eyes. I think he was trying to get a look at my brain. He was a distinguished-looking man with thick, brown hair sprinkled with grey. He wore a full beard, trimmed short. Despite the summer heat, he had on a full blue suit, complete with a vest underneath. I bet the Sanibels never had someone so classy in their home before. It was probably killing Dr. Van Hassel to be amidst their garbage and sitting on their lumpy couch.

"Yes," I said. I didn't fully understand the magnitude of what he was offering.

"What you are going to need to do is to go to the Utah State University Extension Campus in Brigham City. There is a proctor there who will give you a series of tests. If you get an average of ninety eight percent or better, than you have a spot at our camp. Your appointment is for 10am on Monday morning."

"Okay," I said. I looked to Peggy to see what she thought. She had her shirt collar in her mouth as she was focused on her soap, not hearing a word of our conversation.

"Before you waste anyone's time, I have a few equations for you to solve," Dr. Van Hassel said.

My heart sped up and bounded against my chest.

He pulled a sheet of paper out of his bag and put it in front of me. "Let me find you a pencil", he said reaching back into his bag.

I looked at the equation on his paper. Before he had even grabbed his pencil, I had seen the equation set itself up in my mind, and it was solved. "x= 5". I said.

Dr. Van Hassel's head popped up, and his eyes bulged out. Instead of grabbing his pencil, he took out a packet of paper and put it in front of me. "There are three pages there, and they are all part of one equation," he said.

I flipped through the book, my mind aligning and arranging things as it solved through the problem. My abilities still astounding me. I wish I understood how I knew everything. Who was I before the hospital? "54 liters," I said.

"Brilliant, brilliant," Dr. Van Hassel said. He already had another sheet of paper in his hand. I took it from him. It wasn't mathematical equations, it was scientific questions. I studied over it.

"Well," I said. "The answers is methylation, phosphorylation and acetylation." Where the knowledge came from, I couldn't even explain. I seemed to know it. I wondered if I had known all of this before my memory swipe. Maybe I was a secret CIA agent, and they had extracted my memory so I wouldn't compromise the agency. I didn't know how I knew the answers to all the tests I had been taking. My mind seemed to recall things. It seemed to be that way since the chess game. It appeared there was a great source of intelligence and understanding in me, and only when I was introduced to it, was when I seemed to recall it. Or, at least that was my theory.

Dr. Van Hassel zipped his bag closed. "I am glad we did this. I can now see sending you to the campus on Monday to test would have only wasted everyone's time."

"Did I not pass?" I asked disappointedly. I couldn't understand how I didn't pass. I knew all the answers were right. I really liked the idea of leaving the Sanibels for a month. Regret filled me as I saw my opportunity lost.

"Oh, you more than passed. You blew the tests away. I want you to be at the airport Sunday night of July fifth."

"Um, how much will it cost?" I asked. I hardly doubted the Sanibels could afford a plane ticket, let alone the price of camp.

"You are going to Harvard, Ms. Alora Funk, the camp alone is fifteen thousand dollars."

I gasped out loud. There was no chance I was going. The Sanibels couldn't afford it, and even if they could, they wouldn't spend that much on me.

"But," Dr. Van Hassel said as he looked around the house in disgust. "I will find a scholarship for you that will pay your expenses one hundred percent."

I wanted to jump up and down and run around the room in excitement, but I didn't want to scare the doctor away, so I didn't react at all.

"Can you get her to the airport Sunday night, early Monday morning?" Dr. Van Hassel asked Peggy. She looked up, "Huh? Are you talking to me?"

"Did you not even try to pay attention to our conversation?" he asked in disdain.

"Sorry, I didn't know you were here to talk to me."

"Mrs. Sanibel," Principal Schmidt said. "Dr. Van Hassel is from Harvard. He has flown all the way out here to offer Alora a spot at their very prestigious summer camp."

"We can't afford that," Peggy grumbled.

"He will be taking her there on a scholarship."

"I am not sure this is the right time in her life for something like this," Peggy said.

Her words rammed me in the gut. What was she talking about? Was she really not going to let me go?

"She has been through a lot, and she is finding stability in her life. That camp would put undue pressure on her and unravel all of our hard work."

What hard work could Peggy possibly be talking about? She hadn't even noticed when I stayed away for a night.

"Mrs. Sanibel, I don't think you realize what an opportunity this is for Alora. This is a fifteen thousand full-ride-scholarship we are offering. You won't pay a thing. There are close to a thousand kids that apply for this and will never get a chance to go. This program will build a foundation she will never get in a small town like this. Going to this camp might be here ticket into Harvard as a graduate student."

Peggy didn't like him insulting her place. "Maybe next year, boys," she said.

I couldn't believe it. Was she really getting in the way of a life time opportunity? I was sick.

"I have already bought her airline ticket," Dr. Van Hassel said.

"Then that was a foolish move on your part," she tartly replied back.

I am not a violent person, but at the moment, I wanted to hit her.

"Gentlemen, please see yourself out," she said as she turned the volume up on the TV.

The men got up and went outside. I trailed behind them.

"Change her mind," Dr. Van Hassel said to me. "I will keep your ticket and spot open." He handed me his business card, and the two drove away in a black limousine. All the neighbor kids had gathered around to see who rode around in such an automobile, and why they had gone to the Sanibels'.

Tears poured out of my eyes as I watched them drive away. I knew my chance was gone. Peggy was extremely stubborn. There was no way I was going to change her mind. I couldn't understand why she had said no.

As I came back into the house, I slammed the door behind me. I stomped all the way down the hall, through the dining room, and into the family room, planting myself in front of Peggy so she couldn't see the TV.

"Why can't I go?" I hissed.

"Calm down, Alora. Not everything is what it seems. I don't feel right about this, and I must listen to my gut."

"I don't care how you feel. This is my life, not yours, and I am going!" I yelled. I shook, for I had never been so brazen with her before.

"Don't you use that tone of voice with me," she said, elevating her own tone. "While you live under my roof, I am your mother, and I set your rules. Like it or not, that is how it works."

"But this is my life, not yours!"

"And I want to protect that life."

"You mean stifle it."

"Do you honestly think you can change my mind by yelling at me? That is not how it works; in fact, it is causing me to build the highest wall around this subject, a wall that will never be removed."

"How can you be so heartless?" I challenged.

"Go to your room!"

"Gladly," I said. I stomped up the stairs, and slammed my door closed. I threw myself on my bed and bawled. After an hour, I decided to go and talk to Mike about it.

...

"And she won't let me go," I said as I finished my plea to him.

"Wow, don't get me involved. You are her project, not mine."

"Project," I roared. "I am not a project. I am a human."

"Whatever," he said as he un-paused his video game and resumed playing.

I decided to call London.

...

London met me at the Country Store. I climbed in her car.

"Don't you tell Peggy I took you," she said.

"I promise."

She was taking me to see Mr. Scary, my case manager with Child Protective Services.

As she drove, I said, "There is no way he is going to help me. He is stern and even more heartless than Peggy."

"We start with him, and if he says no, then we go up from there. We have to follow the chain of command, and he is the next in line."

London had the windows opened, and her blond hair blew in the wind. At times, it seemed like it blocked her view of the road. She had to keep pulling it away from her eyes. I really hoped we wouldn't get in a wreck.

...

I couldn't believe I was back at Child Protective Services. I hated the place. The last time I was there, I had been scared, frightened, confused, and lost. All those people did was talk about me as if I wasn't a real human, a problem needing a solution. I hated Mr. Scary, as he sat there on his high horse, always in a hurry, and always better than everyone else.

They put London and me in a small room. We were alone for almost forty-five minutes when Mr. Scary finally appeared.

"We'll Ms. Jane Doe, how are things? And London Bridges, how are things?"

I bawled as I explained the situation I was in. "We were hoping you would give Jane permission to go, since you are her case manager," London said ever so sweetly.

"I can't go behind the Sanibel's backs on this. They are caring for Jane at this time."

"Yes, but you have custody, and the ultimate decision lies with you."

"Let me call the Sanibels and see if we can work this out. I have to agree that the opportunity presented is a prestigious opportunity indeed. I would hate to see it lost. Not many kids in foster care get breaks like this. I will try to do everything I can to help you," he said. He almost sounded like he cared.

I couldn't believe Mr. Scary's words. He was going to help me? I thought he hated me.

He called Peggy, but got no answer.

"It will be hard to resolve this if we can't get through to them."

"Just keep trying. They usually don't answer until the third or fourth time," I instructed. It took them that long to find the phone.

He called back three more times, and finally someone answered.

"Is Mrs. Sanibel there?........This is Mr. Cox from Child Protective Services, will you please get Mrs. Sanibel........Oh I see, will you tell her this is of an urgent nature.......Well, no......Yes..........Hello Mrs. Sanibel, this is Mr. Cox from Child Protective Services .........Mr. Cox..........I am Jane Doe's case manager...........Oh, I see............She is here with me............She came in on her own.....................Well, not technically running away if she comes to us..................I am sure you don't mean that...........Well you see, she was really hoping to be able to go to the Science Summer Camp at Harvard..........Why for?..............Our number one goal is to help these children. This is an excellent way to help Jane.................I am afraid I don't understand..............I am afraid I am not following you.........No, I do not agree..............Is that really your place? Yes, I know you are her foster mom...................Mrs. Sanibel, you can't surely mean that...............But, I am sure that.............I understand...............Yes, it is your right.............Are you sure?................I thought things were going well for you and her....................Please reconsider...................Are you sure.......Send it over in an email.........Good day to you."

He put his face in his hand and held it there for a minute preventing us from seeing his expression. I was nervous. His phone call didn't sound like it went very well.

He removed his hands and tried to put on a smile. "Good news and bad news, Jane."

I stared at him.

"Give us the good news," London said.

"You are going to Harvard!" he tried to say upbeat.

My heart leapt. "And the bad news?"

"The Sanibels terminated your placement with them."

"Oh, that is too bad," London said.

I put my head in my hands and cried. How could they end it like that? I thought we were family. I had tried to be a real good daughter to them. Other than getting in a fight about Harvard, I had tried not to disagree with them. All their kids yelled at them all the time, and they never seemed to let it bother them. But, I get in one small argument with them, then they send me back. How could they do that? I thought we had been a family. I guess it was all for show. Peggy loved show. That way everyone in Mantua could think what a wonderful mother she was, bringing in that poor child that was found in the cement room. Oh yeah, I probably boosted her image.

"What is going to happen to her?" London asked.

"We will have to find her a temporary family until Sunday, then while she is gone to Harvard, we can find a better placement her."

"Can I stay with you?" I asked London.

"I am afraid not, honey," London replied with a downcast face.

"Why won't you take me? You seem to care about me." I pleaded.

London's eyes filled with tears. "I am sorry, honey, it is complicated."

"Screw complicated, take me," I wailed.

London looked to Mr. Scary to rescue her.

"Don't let it stress you too much right now. We will find you a place for a couple of days, and when you return, we will have a really nice family waiting for you."

"I have a nice family," I said.

"I am sorry, Jane, that is sadly the nature of foster care. Kids and parents alike get attached, then for various reasons, they have to break their attachment before one or the other is ready to."

"Well, I hate it!" I cried. "I hate it! I hate it! I hate it!"

"Give me a sec," Mr. Scary said as he slipped out of the room. London came to my side and wrapped her arms around me. She held me tight while I bawled, then, like at the hospital, she sang me songs. By the time Mr. Scary returned, I felt a bit better. He looked more upbeat as well.

"Great news, we have a terrific placement for you. The Petersons. They are a young couple, and they have no children, except for one on the way."

"Do they want me?" I asked, rubbing my sore eyes.

"They can't wait to get you. Give me a while to get things set up," he said as he left the room again.

I turned to London. "Why won't you take me?"

London looked away. I could tell she was debating over telling me something. She turned back to me with more tears in her eyes.

"I haven't always been a good girl. I made some mistakes about six years ago, and because of them, I can't be a foster parent."

"What kind of mistakes?"

"Ones that I have received forgiveness from the Lord for."

"Like what?"

"Alora, I can't share with you the bad things I did. They are very personal and embarrassing. Like I said, they happened a long time ago. But, they stop me from being able to take you in."

"How come, if you have found the Lord's forgiveness for them?"

"Because, there are certain rules about being a foster parent. I have criminal charges that they just won't look past."

"Are you in trouble with the law?"

"No, I made restitution with the law a long time ago. I have made restitution with everyone. As far as I am concerned, I am fully forgiven. That is the power of Jesus' atonement. But, the law is different."

"Do the people in your society know about your offense?"

London looked shocked. "I have been forgiven. It is not their concern. The thing I did has nothing to do with my position in the church."

"Oh."

London thought for a moment longer. She obviously had more she wanted to share with me. "Do you know how you ended up at the Sanibels?" she asked.

"Child Protective Services put me there."

"They did, but it was under my recommendation. I have friends at Child Protective Services. That is one thing you will learn about me. I have friends everywhere. Anyway, since I couldn't bring you into my home, I wanted you to at least go to my sister's home."

"PEGGY IS YOUR SISTER?" I blurted out.

"Yes. Haven't you figured that out yet? We look just alike."

As I looked at her, I suddenly saw Peggy. How had I not figured that out before? They were both stocky woman. London had dyed blond hair. If her color was left natural, then she would probably look identical to Peggy. Why hadn't I seen it before? As I thought about it, I realized even some of their mannerisms were the same.

"If she is your sister, than why do we have to meet in secret? Why don't you meet me at the house?"

"Because, she hasn't forgiven me for the thing I did."

"I thought your church was all about forgiveness?"

"It is, but just because there are commandments in my church, doesn't mean everyone follows them. We believe in free agency, and people are free to govern themselves."

"Well, it sounds hypocritical."

"Oh no, not at all. Church is like a hospital. Everyone who goes to it is sick in their own way. They go to get well. People don't go to church because they are perfect, they go to become perfect. We all make mistakes."

"Why do you always check up on me?"

London's voice choked up, "Because I love you, Alora Funk. I want you to always remember that. Just because the law stops me from being your foster mom, I will always be a mother-like figure in your life. You can come to me for anything."

The door opened and Mr. Scary walked in. "Jane, things are all set up. Let's get you over to your temporary home."

London reached out and gave me a very long hug. "Good luck to you, Alora. Have fun at camp." In my ear she whispered, "I love you."

# Chapter 20

The fourth of July-

Mr. Scary drove me to a crowded neighborhood in which all the houses were almost on top of the other one, the yards were almost nonexistent. He pulled in the driveway of a stucco rambler, looking exactly like all the other houses on the street. My breathing increased, feelings of claustrophobia emerged. I longed for the wide spaces of Mantua. What was I doing there?

The front door opened, and a lovely couple came out holding hands. The woman had a small bump in her stomach. Her long black hair went down to her waste, shinning as the sun reflected in it. She had a light complexion and was taller than her husband. He had dark hair like hers. They looked young to be married, with matching golden yellow auras.

We went into their house. They seemed like they were dying to touch me, caress me, acting jittery as they moved around a lot, constantly squeezing each other's hands. They seemed nice enough to me. Their parlor was immaculate, not even a speck of dust could be found in it. Their furniture was new, without a blemish, and most certainly without lumpy, hard springs to poke your backside. I looked around at the cream colored walls, not seeing one fingerprint on them. They had beautiful pictures of the Savior and wildlife adorning their walls. The air smelled like pumpkin pie, causing my stomach to grumble, begging me for a piece. Mr. Scary gave them the final instruction while they kept sneaking glances at me and smiling. They were so giddy to have me, laughter exploded to almost everything Mr. Scary said. It was odd, because I had never seen him as a funny man. He seemed a little more relaxed in their home than he was in the Sanibel home, but I could tell their humor at his expense bothered him. I had become acquainted with his mannerism and facial expressions, his demeanor was easy for me to read. When the paperwork was finished, they gave us a tour around their home. Everything was super clean, almost showroom perfect. My bedroom was painted a neutral green and yellow. It was simple, but elegant in its simplicity. The bed set matched the walls, and looked fluffy and brand new, and on top of it were several stuffed animals. In the corner of the room was a desk.

As Mr. Scary was leaving, he turned to the Petersons, "Do you have any questions?"

"Did you come with any luggage? I didn't see any brought in," Mr. Peterson asked.

"We left some money in the manila envelope I gave your wife. There is money for clothes in there. Do you have any other questions?"

"No," they said behind their big grins.

"And Jane, is there any last thing I can do for you?"

"Yes," I said. "Officially change my name to Alora Funk."

"To what?" he said, looking confused.

"Alora Funk. That is the name I gave myself. I hate the name Jane Doe," shyly I looked down at my feet. I had never talked to Mr. Scary like that before. A wave of nausea passed over me.

"What don't you like about it? Jane is a fine, solid name."

"It is a generic name you give to someone who doesn't have an identity." I paused for a second, my heart racing inside of me. He glared at me with one of his -you're wasting my time-looks. I had to look away so I could continue, "I have an identity now, and it is Alora Funk."

Mr. Scary took out a tablet and scribbled my name on it. "I will see what I can do."

...

The Petersons were nice. They wanted to dote their every second on me. That evening we sat down to Chinese take-out where they asked me tons of questions, prying into everything about my life before the Sanibels and life after. Their perfection made me nervous, besides I hated talking about my situation. I felt dumb, many of their questions I couldn't answer. I hadn't intended to talk to them, but they drew it out of me, and before I could stop myself, I was spilling out my short life history.

As I lay in bed at the end of the night, I couldn't believe how peaceful inside the home was, but how loud it was outside with all the passing traffic. Inside, it was quiet, because I didn't hear children running around. I didn't hear Mike yelling at kids to shut up.

The next day was the Fourth of July, and I was pretty bummed. I had been looking forward to going to the town fair. All my friends from school were planning on being there. At the end of the day, Mantua was going to light fireworks over the reservoir. Peggy had promised me we would go out in the boat and watch the show, telling me there was nothing like it in the world. I had been looking forward to time with her the whole summer. I hated missing it. Why did Peggy have to give me up?

In the morning, the Petersons called me down to a breakfast of eggs and pancakes, not near as good as Peggy's, but tasty nonetheless. After eating, I sat there with a full and bloated stomach. I couldn't remember the last time I had gotten full. It was nice to not have to fight for my food.

"What would you like to do today?" Mrs. Peterson asked as she cleared the dishes away and washed them.

"I would like to go to the Fourth of July celebration at Mantua."

"Oh," Mr. Peterson's face dropped as he sipped his hot chocolate. "I am not sure it is a good idea right now. How about we find something going on around here?"

"I guess," I sadly said. Nothing could replace my friends and the promised boat ride from Peggy. A feeling of glum took over my body.

"Listen," Mrs. Peterson said as she came and washed the table under us. "Bountiful has a lovely fair every Fourth. And then, if you want to see one amazing firework display, Sugar House Park does them over a lake."

"Yes," I shouted. That was the closest we could get to what Mantua had to offer.

The day was very stimulating. It was the first time to my knowledge I had gone to anything as big and chaotic as a fair. It was so packed that in between vendors we kept bumping into people. Despite the mass confusion around us, Mrs. Peterson spoiled me. She bought me cotton candy, a Navajo Taco, a bag of candied almonds, and kettle corn. My stomach hurt by the time we left the fair.

At the Sugar House Park, the firework display was magnificent. Breathtaking colors burst over the water. Sprays of fire painted the air. Nothing in the world could top such a display of light (well, maybe watching them in a boat with Peggy, but I had to let that go). Reds and greens tangled around each other. Gold and silver displayed their brilliant designs. There was small eruptions of color, and light so bright it burned my eyes. Some of the fireworks were incredibly loud, the explosion burst in my chest, rumbling my small body. While I watched the show, I played a game with the Peterson's where we tried to guess the color and type of the next firework that was about to go off. It was a blast, helping me feel close to them. We laughed every time we were right. It felt good to have so much fun. Afterwards, when we tried to leave, the traffic was horrific, taking three hours to get back home. I had fallen asleep in the car, awaking to Mr. Peterson carrying me in. I almost told him I was too old for such things, but secretly, I liked it. Instead, I pretended to sleep through it. He took me to my bed and tucked me in, serenity and peace overcame me. I felt safe.

The next morning, Mrs. Peterson came in. She was dressed up in her church clothes. Great, these people went to church too!

"We go to church every Sunday at 11:00am. We would love you to join us, if you want," she said.

Were they really giving me a choice? I didn't want that to pass. "I don't want to," I said, trying not to hurt her feelings. I kept my eyes on my blankets, not wanting to see disappointment wash over her.

"I understand. Our church believes in free agency."

Hmm, why didn't the Sanibels believe in that? They always made me go with them.

"I can stay back with you," she offered.

"Oh no, I wouldn't wish that. You two go to church. I will be fine."

"Are you sure you are fine to stay home alone?"

"I am thirteen," I reminded her. At least I thought I was. It was lots easier declaring it, than saying I didn't know my true age.

"All right then," she said hesitantly. I figured since she had never been a mother before, she really didn't know what to do.

I got up and had breakfast, but the Petersons didn't. It was another one of those fast Sundays where they don't eat. I was glad they let me eat. When they left for church, I went back to sleep, because the previous night had been such a late night, and I was still exhausted. I felt as though my head had barely hit the pillow, when I heard them return home. I wondered if they had forgotten something. I looked at the clock in my room. It had been three hours and twenty minutes. How had the time gone by so fast? I didn't even feel like I had gotten any sleep. Being at church never went by that fast.

We had a peaceful evening, then at 2am on early Monday (or you could say late Sunday), they dropped me off at the airport. It felt like Sunday night to me. My plane left at 5am. I was glad I had gotten in the extra sleep.

As we flew over the mountains, I wondered if I had ever been in an airplane before. It was stunning flying above the rest of the world. I watched as the sun rose from the horizon, painting a glorious mixture of pink, oranges, and yellows in the sky. The colors changed quickly, then sadly disappeared. I passed over clouds, and through clouds. I thought heaven probably looked like that, if there was a heaven.

# Chapter 21

The discovery in science-

When I got off the plane, a flight attendant led me to the baggage claim area. Standing in front of it was Dr. Van Hassel. He clapped when he saw me.

"Alora, you made it. I feared you wouldn't. You proved your cleverness in changing your foster mom's stance. As soon as we collect your luggage, we will drive over to Harvard. You will absolutely love the campus. It has a pronounced beauty to it." His aura was emerald green. He must have been happy to see me.

"I don't have any bags," I said. I guess in the shuffle and bustle to get me there, the Petersons must have forgotten to buy me clothes.

"No clothes, oh my," he said. He turned to the tall man standing behind him. I hadn't realized they were together.

"Tell Erin to run out right away and buy clothes for Alora."

"She will be wanting the correct size, Doctor."

"What size are you Alora?" he said, sizing me up and down with his eyes, making me feel uncomfortable and self-conscious. I really wished he would stop.

I shrugged.

"You are a brilliant mathematician. How do you not know your size?"

"I wear what is given to me." I looked down at my feet. I felt so stupid. Dr. Van Hassel was always dressed so immaculate. He had to be wealthy. I felt homely and poor in his presence. I feared he would regret flying me out to the camp. Maybe he would send me home because I didn't fit in. I hated my clothes.

"Erin will have to take you tonight, after orientation." He looked at my attire and wrinkled his forehead. "I sure hate for you to show up in those," he said. I wanted to slink away and hide.

"Carlson, go get the car," Dr. Van Hassel said to the man.

"Yes, Doctor," he said and walked away.

Dr. Van Hassel went to a news stand and bought me an issue of _Popular Science._ Outside, Carlson was standing next to a black limousine waiting for us. Adrenalin ran through me at the thought of crawling inside the expensive car. Once in, I noticed the seats were made out of white leather. I couldn't stop smiling as I sat down. There was blue lighting around the top and floor boards. Dr. Van Hassel climbed in and sat across from me. Was this real? Was I really getting a ride in a limousine, arriving to camp like I was important?

"I can only assume this is your first time in a limousine?"

"Yes," I said as I nodded up and down. I looked at him. Inside the luxury mobile, he appeared even statelier than he had back at my rundown Sanibel home.

He opened a small fridge and pulled out an individual size of sparkling soda. "Would you care for a drink?" he asked.

"Yes, please!" He opened the bottle and poured it into a glass cup. There was a little freezer in the top of the fridge. From it, he pulled out three ice cubes, using a prong. They _clinked_ as they dropped into my cup. I would have liked to drink straight out of the bottle, but I took the offered cup of soda from him. Bubbles fizzled out the top, some popping in my face. I took a drink. Sweet, sugary orange fizzed in my mouth. As I swallowed, it burned its way down my throat. A single hiccup escaped my mouth.

"Excuse me," I said as I took another sip. Enjoying the same experience again.

"You are excused."

We had rode in silence for a while, when he said, "Now, tell me your story, Alora."

I tried to give him the shortest version. I hadn't even finished when we had arrived at the magnificent campus. It was a hundred times bigger than I had imagined, taking my breath away. I had stopped breathing as we passed through it. Was I really going to be spending the rest of my summer there? I got eager as I looked at the historical buildings. Most of them were made out of red brick. There was a large white steeple in the middle of the campus. It reminded me of a picture I had seen of the English Parliament building. Again, a flash of joy rippled through me. And to think, Peggy wanted to withhold this from me. I had to push the thought of her out of my mind, for her memory filled me with sorrow.

I felt sort of prideful showing up in a limo. I couldn't wait to have everyone see me step out of it. Maybe they would all think I was from a wealthy, well to do family. I was disappointed when I noticed most the kids showed up in limos. I remembered my warn-out outfit, and suddenly I wanted to turn around and fly back to Utah.

Carlson parked next to the curb in front of a dorm. The building was red brick, several stories high. Each window had white trim around it. "This is where you will stay for the next month," Dr. Van Hassel said as he escorted me in.

"I want you to know, Jane." I shot him a look when he used my generic name. "I mean, Alora. I want you to know I _never_ pick up students for this thing. I usually have my secretary run errands like this."

"Then why did you get me?" I nimbly asked.

"Because, you are highly important. I have had the opportunity to meet some very bright, intellectual students. I have reviewed test scores and monitored program placement. I have never seen anyone test like you. I realized from your story there is more to you than anyone knows. I want to be with you every step of the way as you unlock your potential."

His praise made me feel warm all over, despite my dumb outfit.

...

Dr. Van Hassel took me to my dorm. Inside I met my new roommate. She threw a fit when she found out she would be sharing with me, stating her parents had paid for her to have a private room. Finally, Dr. Van Hassel introduced himself and threatened to kick her out of the program if she didn't stop carrying on so. She immediately silenced, for she must have realized who he was.

"Can I assume I won't hear another word about this from you?" Dr. Van Hassel said to her in a low voice.

"Yes sir, sorry sir."

My roommate's name was Sharon. She was shorter than me. She had long, black hair, dull and straight. Her aura was light orange. She had given me the evil eye after Dr. Van Hassel left, and when she did, she had a way of popping out her eyes while locking in on me. I hated it! She was going to make my time at the dorm very uncomfortable.

"How do you know Dr. Van Hassel? Are you his niece or something?"

"No."

"Then how do you know him?"

"I don't know. I met him a couple of days ago when he came to my house and invited me to this camp." I looked down. I couldn't handle her eyes.

"You are lying," Sharon said.

"Why would you think I am lying? Did you not see him escort me here?" I didn't care for the way Sharon talked to me. She reminded me so much of Angela, pompous and in-love with herself. Out of all the kids in the camp, why did I get stuck rooming with her?

"Yeah, but that isn't how Dr. Van Hassel works. He doesn't recruit people for this camp. Anyone who goes here has to apply for it, then take a rigorous test. It's a lengthy application process, and not very many people make it. Only the best of the best."

"Do you consider yourself the best of the best?" I asked. I couldn't believe I was being so bold. My skin tingled and I looked away.

"You better know it," she said hotly as she raised her head high. "I am a Winchester," she continued. "I come from a line of the best family in Boston. My pedigree can be traced having Harvard graduates as far back as the mid seventeen hundreds. There hasn't been a generation who has skipped coming here."

"Wow," I said. "That is quite a heritage you have." I was so intrigued by her family line I forgot we were not friends, but she quickly reminded me of our animosity.

"Indeed," she replied as she lifted her chin even higher in the air. "And where do you hail from?"

I didn't know what to tell her. Should I have claimed Mantua as my home? Maybe Bountiful, since I was found there. I felt more connected to Mantua. I wondered if I should claim Russia, for I was pretty sure my roots traced me back there.

"Russia," I finally decided upon. It sounded more exotic than Utah.

"Are you a communist?"

"No, that is where my roots trace back. I come from Mantua, Utah."

"Never heard of it," she said as she kept her nose up. She must have thought if she didn't know about it, than it wasn't an important place.

"Utah, what do I know about that state?" she thought out loud for a moment. "Ah yes, the union of the Central Pacific and Union Pacific Railroads on May tenth eighteen sixty nine. The Great Salt Lake is in Utah, and it is roughly twenty one hundred square miles. Utah has five national parks: Zion, Bryce Canyon, Capitol Reef, Arches, and Canyonlands. Utah was acquired by the United States in eighteen forty eight, in a treaty ending a war. Do you know what war that was?"

"No," I said. She certainly knew more about Utah than I did.

"It was the Mexico War," she said smartly. She continued, as if she was impressing me. "Utah comes from the Ute Indian tribe. It is the eleventh largest state in the United States. I bet you didn't even know about your own state."

I might not have known trivial facts like she did, but I had the world map downloaded into my brain. I bet she didn't.

The land line in our dorm rang. Sharon answered it. "Yes, no this is not her. Hold on..." She handed the phone to me. Her bulging eyes looked full of hate.

After I hung the phone up, I said, "That was Erin, Dr. Van Hassel's secretary. She wanted me to tell you to lead us to the Epigaea Repens room. Oh yeah, and she is taking me shopping at 6."

...

I practically had to run to keep up with Sharon. I think she was trying to ditch me, but I wouldn't let her. I bet she had spent her summer memorizing the campus maps, because it felt like we were going through a labyrinth to get to the Epigaea Repens room. When we got there, we mingled with around hundred other students. I was momentarily confused, because I was sure Dr. Van Hassel had said they only let twenty students in a year, but then I remembered there were older years as well. We were all meeting together for an orientation meeting and luncheon. I had lost Sharon in the crowd, which I was glad for, because I didn't want to sit by her, and I was sure the feeling was mutual.

When we first went in, we had to go to a row of tables and pick up our agendas. I stood in the small line of the first years. When it became my turn, I said.

"Funk, Alora." The guy flipped through the agendas, not finding mine.

"This is the first year line," he said, as if I was an idiot.

"Oh, my mistake. I think it might be under Jane Doe," I replied.

"Jane Doe. Are you Alora, or Jane?"

"Both," I said. "It is complicated."

He searched again. "Nope, neither name. Maybe it got sorted in the wrong year. Go try another year."

I ended up standing in each line. I felt stupid in the older lines because it was obvious I was too young for them. I had several kids try to direct me back to the first year. After wasting my time in every line, I finally went and took a seat next to a stranger without an agenda. Fifteen minutes later, the MC started.

"You guys worked hard to get here. When I say you belong here, I mean it. This is not a place for simple minds. It is a breeding institute for the leading intellects in the nation. You will go on to become surgeons, rocket scientists, and the greatest minds of our country in many fields. It will all begin with the roots you sow over the next few weeks and your continuing years in this summer science camp."

His speech bored me, and I nodded off a couple of times. I must have been experiencing jet lag. A new speaker came and explained how the cafeteria program worked. We were given the rules, including absolute no leaving of the campus. We were also warned we were not allowed to enter the opposite genders dorms. If we were found in such, it was immediate dismissal from the program with no refunds.

"I know that was much information to take in," he said. "Without further ado, let me introduce the man behind the dream. This program would not exist if Dr. Van Hassel hadn't founded it." The room became silent. Everyone stopped eating, staring with their mouths wide open. Dr. Van Hassel stepped to the pulpit. He had complete respect, admiration, and attention from the room.

His was a drawn out speech. I felt like I was the only one there who was tired and bored. Everyone sat erect as they clung to every word out of his mouth. After he had rambled for quite some time, he said.

"Open your agendas. We will expect strict adherence to this agenda. This is your life. You will do nothing without first checking your agenda." The statement stirred a ripple of chatter.

"Quiet!" he demanded. Everything went still. "There can't possibly be anything more important than my words at this moment." The guy up at the pulpit didn't seem like the same caring man who had come to my home in Mantua. The Dr. Van Hassel at the podium kind of scared me.

"When it says homework time, you will do homework, and nothing else. You won't be writing letters to your mommy and daddy. You will be doing homework. You won't be flirting and being silly. You will be doing homework. Do I make myself clear?" he shouted in the microphone. It was so loud, many people cupped their ears.

"I almost forgot," he said as he reached under the podium. His voice softened with his next words. "Alora, I have your agenda. I meant to give it to you in the limousine. Come up and get it."

All eyes wildly searched the auditorium, looking for what peon was on a first name basis with our king. I slowly stood up, the chair loudly scraping the floor, ringing out a metallic grind. With all eyes on me, the walk seemed painfully long. My stupid shoes squeaked with every step I took. My legs stiffened up on me, not wanting to move. I detested everyone was looking at my horrific outfit. I couldn't wait for the promised new clothes. The walked seemed to take an eternity, and my head became very light. I couldn't let myself pass out. I reached Dr. Van Hassel, and he handed me my agenda and patted my back. It shook in my hand.

"If you want to make it through this camp and be invited to return next year," he bellowed as I returned to my seat. "Then I suggest you all keep a close eye on Alora Funk. You will want her in your group. You will want her on your team. If you want to succeed, you will fight for her acknowledgement."

My head pounded and I felt dizzy and nauseas. He was talking some pretty mighty words about me, but why? Wasn't I the same lowly girl who had been accused of cheating not very long ago? How fast my world changed.

After our luncheon, we were separated into years. The first year students were given a tour of the campus. I was intimidated by the size of it. How was I ever going to remember my way around? As we snaked our way through it, a thought hit me. I was trying to grasp things with my logical mind, not my intellectual mind. I was distinguishing between the two abilities. My logical mind was what I used on everyday things. I am sure it was what everyone used. But, when I was solving math equations, or looking at maps, I could feel myself switch over to my intellectual mind. What I needed to learn was how to stay more permanently in my intellectual mind.

Once I switched to my intellectual mind, I mapped out the campus. I recorded everything I saw. My mind created several maps, and I am not sure how I did it, but I had aerial views, ground views, and topography views. They were rather brilliant. Maybe I already had the Harvard Campus map downloaded to my brain.

I was enthusiastic to find a way to better use my new gift. If I could learn how to manage my abilities, I was sure I could make myself powerful. The idea felt astounding, because not long ago, I was the stupid, dumb mute, with the intelligence of a fourth grader. I would show them!

As we went around, I noticed there were eyes on me at all times. Since I had personally known Dr. Van Hassel, it made me an instant celebrity. No one talked to me, but I was sure they were waiting for the right moment.

After the long tour, I returned to my dorm. Sharon was there. She actually looked pleasant, not wearing her scowl from before.

"Did you have a good lunch?" she asked.

"Yup," I coolly responded. I wasn't sure if I was ready to be friends yet.

"Were you able to figure out the campus?" She really sounded sincere. She plopped down on her bed and opened a candy bar, stuffing it in as if it were about to disappear. My tongue salivated as I watched her, wanting one myself.

"I am sure I will manage fine," I said. Maybe she had another candy bar for me.

"Oh good. I memorized the campus before I got here," she said with a mouth full of chocolate. I bet most Winchesters didn't talk with their mouths full. She was acting more like a Sanibel. "My brother Ronald said it was so hard to memorize. He kept getting lost. I am above getting lost, so I took the time to study it. Did you study it?" she asked.

"I really didn't have the time. I found out I was coming on Friday, and it was the fourth of July on Saturday. But it's okay, because I already have the campus figured out."

"I still don't get how you found out Friday. Everyone applies a year in advance. Were you put on the alternate schedule?"

"No, I never applied. To tell you the truth, I hadn't even heard about the camp until Dr. Van Hassel came to my home Friday, begging me to come."

"That is an injustice!" Sharon screamed. I jumped to her sudden outburst. "Everyone has to apply." She suddenly softened her tone. I think she didn't want to upset me. Since Dr. Van Hassel had told everyone to be friends with me, I think she was taking it to heart. "I am not mad at you, just at the system."

"Fair," I responded.

There was a knock at the door. I opened it while Sharon stayed on her bed. A middle-aged woman with salt and pepper hair was on the other side.

"Hello, Alora," she said to me. "I am Erin, Dr. Van Hassel's personal secretary. He has asked me to take you shopping."

I turned and looked at Sharon. She sat on her bed, with a look of utter envy on her face. Her big eyes looked pitiful. I flashed a smile and left with Erin.

...

I was so exhausted. It had been a long day, with the flight, the orientation meeting, and the stress of it all. The shopping had milked out the last of my energy. Back at the dorm, I fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow. The next morning, I had the big task of figuring out what to wear. I finally decided on a cream colored blouse, with brown stretchy pants. I felt dignified in new clothes.

Sharon seemed torn between her feelings for me. I could tell she hated me, because I had been forced into her dorm room. On the other hand, she knew I was highly valued by Dr. Van Hassel, and therefore I might play out to be used as a pawn to her advancement at Harvard. She had told me every kid tried to get noticed by Dr. Van Hassel, because he could be the key to instant acceptance to the graduate programs there.

"Let's go to breakfast together," she offered.

"Okay," I said.

"We'll hurry," she barked, as if she struggled to be kind to me. I was completely ready, but she still hadn't put her shoes and socks on. It wasn't me who we were waiting for.

In the cafeteria, they had the tables sectioned off for what year you were. There were already ten kids sitting at our first year's table when we sat down with our food. Several of the kids tried to make room for me as they called for me to sit next to them. I glanced at Sharon, she looked peeved I was getting all the attention. I kind of liked it, for it was such a vast difference to my first days in seventh grade. I found a spot where Sharon could sit by me, but she went and sat as far away from me as she could.

After breakfast, we started our academic day. Monday-Friday was the same for the four weeks.

0800*****Breakfast

0830*****History of Science (Science Building 3: room 302) Dr. Laudel

0930*****Break

0915*****Communities of Knowledge, Science, Religion, and Culture. (Science Building 2: room 222) Dr. Morris.

1015*****Break

1030*****Study Group

1130*****Biomedical Science, with emphasis on Anatomy, Microbiology, and Pathophysiology. (Biomedical Building 3: lab 8) Dr. Powers

1230*****Lunch Break

1300***** Biomedical Science, with emphasis on Anatomy, Microbiology, and Pathophysiology. (Biomedical Building 3: lab 8) Dr. Powers

1445*****Break

1500*****Scientific Writing. (English building 1: room 101) Dr. Murphy

1600*****Break

1615*****Chemistry (Math Building 1: Chemistry lab2) Dr. Moody

1745*****Dinner Break

1815*****Science Engineering (Science Building 3: engineering lab 5) Dr. Scholfield

1915*****Break

1930*****Math (Math Building 1) Dr. Horrison

2030*****Homework

2130****Bed

...

The schedule made me tired looking at it. When I had been invited to summer camp, I had imagined it like the campground at Mantua, or something like the _Parent Trap_ movie. I had been bored at the Sanibels, but suddenly I wanted that lifestyle again. I was angry at myself for fighting to be at Harvard. The agenda seemed like a nightmare, worse than school and all its test. For lots of kids, coming to this camp was everything to them, but I didn't have my sights academically set. I was more interested in finding my heritage and getting to know who I was.

Saturday and Sunday weren't as grueling, but there wasn't much of a rest

0800*****Breakfast

0845*****Study Group Rotation 1

1000*****Break

1030*****Study Group Rotation 2

1130*****Physical Fitness

1230*****Lunch Break

1300*****Study Group Rotation 3

1400*****Break

1415*****Study Group Rotation 4

1515*****Break

1530*****Guest Speaker (Science Lecture Hall)

1745*****Dinner Break

1800*****Personal Mediation/Reflection Time

1900*****Homework

2030*****Break

2045*****Homework

2245*****Bed

The classes were long. I had a lot of free time, which I will explain why in a moment. I used this time to watch the other students. Some of them scribbled down every word the professor said. Others watched intently, but never wrote a thing down. A few doodled in their notebook, their attention looked like it was somewhere else. Then there was Teddy.

Teddy was tall. I could measure him in my head and he was six feet exactly, even though he claimed six foot one inch. He had long, shaggy hair, and he always wore black. Most of the kids in the program dressed very sharp. The girls wore blouses, skirts, or nice pants. Many of the boys wore ties and white shirts, polos, and jackets. Everyone looked slick, except Teddy. He really acted like he didn't want to be there. I wondered if his parents had forced it on him, and he was probably missing his girlfriend and summer. Teddy tried to sleep in as many classes as he could. Most of the professors didn't care, but Dr. Powers never allowed it, and he would scold Teddy every time he caught him drifting to sleep.

The reason I had free time was, I quickly found I didn't have to pay attention. Something phenomenal happened in class. Whenever a new subject was introduced, my intellectual mind would instantly pull up all the information on that subject. There were charts, diagrams, and definitions. I could view movie-like images, but better. I could explore cells 3D in my mind, diving deep through their lipid layers and explore their ribosomes, their lysosomes, and everything making up a cell. It was astounding. I could unravel DNA and break apart their hydrogen bonds, and explore their nitrogen nucleotides.

I came to the conclusion I had stored all this information away at some point earlier in my life, for it was there, and I knew it. Before it was introduced in class, I wasn't aware of my knowledge of the matter, but as soon as the subject was brought up, my mind instantly retrieved everything I knew about it. A few rare times, when a new subject was taught, I had nothing to go with it. I could easily understand the new subject, and I would make mental notes classifying and storing my new information.

I became disinterested quickly in the lectures. I often felt the professors were going over the equivalent of learning your ABC's. I daydreamed a lot, watched people, and even joined the doodling crowd. The professors _loved_ calling upon me for answers to their questions. I don't know if they were trying to stump me, trying to show me off, or what, but I was asked three times the number of questions as the rest of the class was. Half of the time, I was caught daydreaming, and the teacher would have to repeat their question.

I found with giving definitions, I was a hundred percent right and quick. I think it bothered the other kids how I knew all eight hundred and fifty two human muscles. Dr. Powers argued there weren't that many classified muscles, but he was wrong. I saw them all. I could recall their images very easily. What was hard for me was explaining how something worked. In my mind, I had a full understanding of processes, because it came from my intellectual side of my brain. When it came to explaining things, that was a logical function, and I didn't do the greatest in it. I struggled at crossing the images from understanding to my spoken definition.

My very favorite of the classes ended up being chemistry and some emphasis of microbiology. When Dr. Moody talked about the simple properties of matter and chemical bonds, I could start seeing the molecular make-up of matter. I could actually see the atoms and molecules! I could see their electrons and their bonds. I could see photochemical reactions, oxidation reduction reactions; I could see everything! I found I had a large knowledge-base in my mind, and there I could break apart the molecular structure and make up of each thing in the room. After I left chemistry, I would forever be looking at things through a molecular eye.

During our second lecture, I was dying to talk to Dr. Moody. He hadn't taken role like the other teachers, so he didn't know who any of us were. He was one of the only teachers who hadn't asked me a ton of questions in class. I waited until the rest of the kids left, then I approached his desk.

"Dr. Moody, can I ask you a few questions?" I said.

"Oh, little lady, you don't want to be late for dinner." He didn't even glance up to look at me.

"That's okay, just a few questions, please?"

"Go ahead," he said, looking at me for what seemed like the first time. He had a golden yellow aura. He was probably in his late fifty's, with a round face, and glasses at the tip of his nose. His hair was black, with very little gray. His face bore many wrinkles, having prominent crow's feet around his eyes. He looked gentler than the rest of the professors.

"I have a pretty good understanding of chemistry," I said

"Do you?"

I didn't like the way he said it, but I kept going. "It seems to me like so many things have the same molecular structure. Take hydrocholoric acid, for instance. If you add one oxygen molecule, it becomes hyphocholorous acid. If you add two, it becomes cholorous acid, if you add three, it becomes chloric acid, and if you add four..."

"It becomes perchloric acid," Dr. Moody said, finishing my thought. "Pretty amazing, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is astounding. Do you think if we could move atoms around in similar structures we could completely change matter?"

"Yes, we can and we do it all the time, but it's more than changing or adding atoms. You must account for bonds and making and breaking new bonds."

"But, if you knew the fingerprint to every molecule, then do you think one could change, let's say a rock to bread."

"There is recorded history of a man in Jerusalem who did it two thousand years ago," Dr. Moody said.

"Wow, what other things did this man do?"

"Some say he helped create this world by using all the laws of chemistry."

"I am not following you." I said.

"His name was Jesus Christ. Have you heard of him?"

"Sure I have," I responded. "Do you really think Jesus created this earth?"

"In conflict to many of my co-colleagues, I do."

"I thought science was about the big bang theory, about the earth creating itself," I said.

"Do you believe that?" Dr. Moody responded.

"Well, no. I have a pretty good model of the big bang theory in my head, but it doesn't equal out to what they say it does."

"Precisely my thoughts indeed. This world is made up of very strong scientific and mathematical laws. You can't cheat the laws. You can't bend them. They are set in stone. I can't believe -poof, a magical bang created laws which formed our whole earth, solar system, and universe. There is no way. Take the human body, for instance. Everything in it works together and depends on all the other organs and molecule structures from with-in. If one system fails, the others start failing. The body has great safeguards where it can adjust and fix itself. That isn't evolution. It didn't spawn from a one cell ameba. That is science, and science has laws," he said. I noticed as he explained his thoughts, his aura was white. Many of the professor's auras turned white when thy taught or lectured.

"So, you are telling me you don't believe in evolution?" I asked. I was astounded to speak to someone with a doctorate in chemistry who didn't believe in evolution. We had learned in school how evolution was religion to scientists.

"I do believe in evolution, for we have strong evidence it exists. Take the Tupinambis teguixin for instances. Are you familiar with them?"

"Yes, the whiptailed lizard. They are all females, but when a male isn't around, one female will become the male," I had finished his sentence with knowledge I didn't even know I had. I loved how I was evolving.

"Precisely, you are well educated. I suppose that is why you are here. I believe in evolution, for our species depend upon it, but I believe in structure and no happen-stance. This world didn't create itself with all it laws from a big bang. It was orchestrated by a mighty scientist. God is that scientist, and he believes and celebrates science like the best of us. I don't see how the two can't coincide, but believe you me, I have had my share of arguments on this subject."

"So, you believe God created this world by manipulating matter?" I asked.

"Precisely."

"Do you think I could manipulate matter and do the same?" I asked.

"Well, it would take some great effort and study, but many have done it. Being at this summer camp is a good step in that direction."

Dr. Moody looked at his watch. "Listen, little lady, I hate to make you miss dinner. They have you on a tight schedule. You better run along so you don't miss it."

"Oh, but I am not done talking about this." I had so much I wanted to ask him.

"If you were a regular student, I would schedule a time for us to meet, but your agenda doesn't make time for such matters."

"Can I meet with you during dinner tomorrow? Maybe I can take an extra sandwich at lunch and eat it tomorrow during our appointment."

"Well, if you are so anxious to, then let's make it happen."

...

By the time I made it to the cafeteria, I had missed dinner. My stomach growled and rebelled in loud gurgles as I went to science engineering hungry.

I could hardly concentrate the rest of the day because my mind was on the subject of molecules. I made an inventory of all the elements in the room. Like so many other subjects, I seemed to have a complete understanding of the molecular make up of many of the objects. It was like a giant pantry, with endless molecules available. I really wanted to rearrange the matter in my mind and see if I could change things around. I felt like it was possible. I didn't know how. I couldn't wait to visit with Dr. Moody again.

On the third day, it felt like dinner time would never get there. I was so antsy for my appointment with Dr. Moody. It finally came and he took me into his office, where he had set up a little table. A towel was laid out with his pasta on top with a matching setting for me, without the pasta. I took my warm turkey sandwich out of the backpack. I had grabbed it at lunch and stuffed it in there. The lettuce was wilted and the bread soggy.

"I admire your interest in chemistry," Dr. Moody said through a mouth full of pasta. As he spoke, little pieces of his meal broke off and torpedoed my way. It was gross. One landed on my arm, leaving a wet spot behind. Another landed on my sandwich. If I wasn't so starving, I would have thrown the sandwich away, but I had already missed dinner the night before, and I wasn't about to do it again.

"I suppose I should know the name of the person I am dining with tonight," he said shoveling in another mouthful of pasta. A piece fell out onto his lap, and he didn't even notice. "But don't expect me to remember it."

"I am Alora Funk."

He dropped his fork and stared at me for a moment. "So you are her. I guess I will remember your name. Dr. Van Hassel has some high hopes for you. I have never seen him take personal interest in one of his students before."

"Why do you think that is?" I asked.

"Because, he knows you have a sharp mind. We were all told to do whatever it took to help you meet your full potential."

I blushed.

"What can I help you with, Ms. Funk?"

"Well, I feel like it would be easy to manipulate matter, real easy-actually- but I am not sure how to do it."

"You think it's easy, but you don't know how. You've lost me."

"Well, I can see the atoms in everything around us, and they are plentiful. I don't know how to grasp those atoms and secure them to change them."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I am discovering I have two types of minds in my head. I know, it sounds weird. I don't really have two brains, but it's more like I have two brain functions. One of them, I call my intellectual mind. When I look at things through it, I can actually see the molecules make up the structure. I don't know if I am really seeing the molecular structure of an object, or if my mind is showing me what the molecular structure should be."

"Energy," Dr. Moody said.

"Energy for what?"

"For your question. You said you didn't know how to grasp the atoms and secure them to change them. It takes energy to change and create bonds."

"Energy," I repeated. "I really did know that. I hadn't thought of it. How simple. Now, I feel foolish."

Since the hospital, I had been able to see people and object's energy fields. We all are made up of energy and the ability to regenerate it. I looked at Dr. Moody's golden yellow aura. I looked down at mine, it was brilliant blue. If I could manipulate the energy fields, then I would be able to accomplish wielding matter.

Dinner ended way too soon, and I found myself back in class. Instead of focusing on lectures, I was studying the energy fields around everything. Somehow, I had to find the way to manipulate my energy to reach over and move matter around. I kept trying, feeling I was so close to success.

The next day I met Dr. Moody in his office again for dinner. I pulled out a tuna sandwich.

"Is that from lunch?" he asked me as he took a bite of his steak.

"Yeah," I said, going for a bite of my warm sandwich.

"STOP! YOU CAN"T EAT THAT!" he shouted. I startled to his yell. "You will get sick. It has mayonnaise in it. Mayonnaise spoils if you leave it out of the fridge. It is a great medium for incubating bacteria." I thought about the turkey sandwich I had eaten the night before. I hadn't gotten sick, and it had mayonnaise on it.

He pushed his steak over to me. "Here, eat this instead."

"No, I can't eat your dinner."

"I can go grab a burger after this, but you can't, you'll go hungry, and I am not letting you eat your sandwich with spoiled mayonnaise on it."

I took his steak. It smelt so good. I thought about protesting more, but the steak was too tempting, and I accepted it. I sunk my teeth into the thick, juicy meat. A savory sensation exploded in my mouth!

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked.

"Do you have a book with all the chemical structures of molecules?" I said with a mouth full of food. I tried to quickly swallow it.

"Sure. I have several. Let me go get them for you." He went and rummaged through his shelves and pulled out four very large textbooks. He plopped them down in front of me. The top one read, _Molecular Phenomena of Unbelievable Complexity- a Study in Structure_. The books were too big for me to lug around, so Dr. Moody promised to drop them off in my dorm.

# Chapter 22

The molecular structure-

The first week went by very slowly. I was glad to be there, but I was tired. I hated how every minute was dictated by the summer camp. Everything we did had to be on their agenda or it didn't happen, except for my nightly dinners with Dr. Moody during the week. I had already found a way to loop the system.

I was surprised at how much the other kids complained. I understood their complaints, because I was feeling the same stresses as well, but the rest of them shouldn't have complained in my opinion. I never voiced what I was feeling, and I didn't think they should either. They had worked hard to be there. To them, it was the pinnacle career move of their teen years. Their parents had spent good money to have them there. I am sure for some, fifteen thousand was change and meant nothing, but I had learned a few of their mom's had gotten jobs just so they could send their kids to this camp.

I later learned from Dr. Moody how my scholarship was granted by Dr. Van Hassel himself. I wasn't sure why he took such a great interest in me.

During my homework and meditation time, I flipped through the chemistry books.

"You aren't even taking time to read them," Sharon commented as she watched me.

"I don't need to read them. I am making mental notes on them, kind of like taking a mental picture."

She bent over and looked at the chemical structures on the page I was looking at.

"There is no way you are memorizing one thing out of that book," she said with disdain.

"This is already my second book, and I have everything in the first one memorized."

"You're full of it."

"If you don't believe it, pick it up and ask me anything in it. Go ahead, anything. It is over there on my pillow."

"No, I don't want to," she said.

"Then stop bothering me."

"Well, I can't concentrate on studying with you flipping those pages like that. You must stop."

"I am not stopping until I have them all memorized," I kept my eyes on the book as we fought.

"Why are you wasting your time on that? Don't you realize Monday we have tests in all of our classes? If you don't get an eighty five percent or better, then they will kick you out of camp."

I didn't care if I got kicked out. I decided I was ready to go home and finish enjoying my summer. I would never complain about being bored at the Sanibels again. I missed all the free time I had there. I missed going out on the reservoir. I missed Taz. In my opinion, Harvard Summer Camp was way too rigid for children. But, I knew I wasn't going to get kicked out, for I planned on getting a hundred percent on everything. That would show Sharon.

The tests came, and they were easy and quick for me. I always finished the tests early then I would sit there and study matter. I watched some of the kids cry. I could remember what it felt like, not understanding the subject, so I tried not to act pompous or anything.

...

"I finished the books, and you are free to pick them up whenever you want," I told Dr. Moody over almond crusted halibut. He started bringing me dinners along with his.

"I take it the reading was a bit above your level," he said with a mouthful of food. I hated when he talked while eating, for he always spit food my way.

"Au contraire," I said. "It all made sense, and I have it all stored up in my mind."

"There is no way. How do you do it?"

"I take a mental picture of everything."

"Mental picture?"

"Yes, much like a camera."

"And how do you recall it when you need it?"

"I think of it, and then it is there. I work much faster than a computer."

"Is that what you have done with everything they are teaching you here? I hear from the other professors it seems as if you know everything."

"Yes. It doesn't take me long to recall things. I believe most of my information was stored there some time ago, because I seem to know almost everything they are teaching."

"Have you always been like this?"

"No, a couple of months ago, I was on a fourth grade level on everything. But, suddenly I have entered into enlightenment, which there seems to be no bounds to my understanding and knowledge base."

"You are telling me you went from being behind in everything, to knowing it all in a matter of months?"

"Well, yes and no. About six months ago, they found me in a cement room hooked up to drugs which kept me in a chemically induced coma. I was being watched by a Russian couple. When I left there, I had no knowledge of my life to that point. It was all erased. But, suddenly my intellectual side is waking up, and I am finding a wealth of knowledge in it. I suspect before I had been chemically induced, I must have been learning all these things."

"Wow, I see, I see," he said as he rubbed his chin. "Yours is quiet a story."

...

When I returned to my dorm, the books were gone.

By Friday, I was deathly bored. I wanted to return to Mantua, for I missed my free time and being outside. I really didn't feel like I was learning anything. Every now and then, a new concept would be introduced and I would log it away with the rest, but it was so rare, it wasn't worth all the time I was devoting to the camp for a sliver of new knowledge.

Having access to so much information in my brain made me wonder about my life even more. How was it I seemed to have a mental reference to everything science and math related? A couple of months ago, I didn't even know what simple things were, and now I had the ability to solve math equations faster than a computer, and not simple equations either, very complex ones. I had charts and systems stored in my head. Where had it all come from? If I could access all of that, why couldn't I retrieve my memories?

With all my capacity for retaining knowledge so easily, the kids in the study groups focused on me. They knew I had the definition for anything. During groups, they picked my brain; however, they had learned if they needed to understand a concept, not to ask me, for I had a difficult time explaining it. I was good for facts and equations.

It was Friday, the last class for the day; math, a combination of advanced calculus with a bit of geometry mixed in. I was tired, wanting to go home. Droning the teacher out, I tried to find access to my energy. I could feel it, sensing its vibrations and strength. I needed to control it, spending all week trying to link into it, when suddenly -there in math- I tapped the access line to my energy! I could feel it. I could sense it. I could shape it. In a way, it felt like another appendage of me, sort of like hands. I named my energy appendage my Zen.

With my Zen, I grasped the energy field around my pencil and lifted it up. There it was, floating in front of me! It was the coolest moment of my life! My arm hairs stood up, a rush of pure joy burst through me. I was holding the pencil by its energy -but to the naked eye- it looked like it was levitating. A sense of magic overwhelmed me, although it wasn't magic, it was simple science, so simple and yet so complicated and out of reach to most humans. My discovery thrilled me, feeling me with excitement, realizing this was only the beginning. I could control things! I wanted to jump out of my chair and scream in joy, but I couldn't, because I didn't want to draw attention to what I was capable of.

I had been aware of object's energy fields for a while, being able to feel their individual vibration. I could see energy mixed into objects' and humans' auras. Now I had uncovered the mystery how to handle other object's energy with my Zen. I wanted to see what I was capable of. As I moved my pencil around, I was careful to keep it low enough where it wouldn't catch anyone's attention. I was alone in the back row. When I saw someone's head turn my way, I grabbed the pencil with my hand. It always scared me, taking my breath away when that happened. My heart would race as I wondered if they had seen it. I decided I needed to work on something farther away so no one could trace it to me. I was too impatient to wait until I was alone. Alone time was a rarity at Harvard summer camp.

Searching for another object to experiment with, I looked at the teacher. Devious feelings entered as I thought about experimenting on him. The idea was so funny I lacked the will to stop myself. Releasing my Zen, I reached out and grabbed the energy field around Dr. Harrison. My heart pounded when I realized I locked into his energy, dominating it. Instead of levitating him, like I wanted to, I carried some of his energy back with me. With his energy field markedly depleted, Dr. Harrison collapsed to the ground. At the same time, his energy exploded within me. I had to catch myself as I almost fell out of my chair. My nerve endings were ringing with all the added energy, making me jittery. My mind felt open, clarity, full of strength. It was the greatest high I had ever felt. My heart was pounding wildly, trying to compensate for the onslaught of energy and work. Meanwhile, several of the kids had run up to Dr. Harrison's side, fearing he was having a heart attack. Scared at what I had done, I quickly sent his energy back to him. His body jerked twice on the floor as the energy returned to him, sending him flying several feet to his left. He went from pale and frail looking, to vibrant and pink.

"I am sorry, class. I don't know what happened to me," he said, pulling himself off the ground. Even Teddy woke up. All eyes were on Dr. Harrison. "Are you okay?" a student asked. "Should I go and get the nurse?"

"I feel fine. Thanks for asking. I had momentarily lost all of my energy. I don't need the nurse. I just started a workout program, and I might have overdone it on my morning run."

It took him a few minutes to gain his composure. When he had, he went back to teaching. I was shaking at what I had done. It had worked! I had controlled his energy. My mind was in a whirl of thought. If I could command the energy of anything around me, my possibilities were endless as to what I could do with that type of power. I hungered to know if I could do it again.

I couldn't sit contently with my new discovery. Wanting to try it again, I snaked my Zen out and grabbed Dr. Harrison's energy again, bringing it back to me. He fell to the ground, depleted. Simultaneously, I was thrown out of my seat by the addition of his energy, bumping my head on the leg of the empty chair next to me. My head pounded. No one seemed to notice me in the back, since all eyes were on our teacher. I didn't know what would happen without part of his energy, so I quickly returned it. I didn't want to kill him, even though I hadn't taken it all. I wanted to see what I could do with it. I must admit, the moment I held his energy I felt incredible! It was a feeling of life and power I had no recollection of feeling before. Every cell within me vibrated at the increase. I wanted to run fifty laps around the room.

When I returned Dr. Harrison's energy, he looked sheepish to be on the floor again. Sharon ran to his side, helping him stand up. "Are you sure you don't need to see the nurse?" she asked. It was the first time I had ever seen concern in those bulging eyes of hers.

He looked embarrassed. "No, I am fine now. Fine. If it happens again, then maybe I will."

As much as I wanted to do it again, I didn't. As he returned to his lecture, my thoughts were deciding out what my next experiment would be.

# Chapter 23

The fun with energy-

Saturday, I was in my first study group rotation. The program leaders thought we would benefit from studying together in small groups of five, then rotating and changing the groups around. They wanted us to have the chance to tap into everyone's different viewpoints and thoughts. I hated study groups, because no one left me alone. Instead of studying things out, they asked me everything.

My first group had Teddy in it. He was such a jerk, with an indifferent attitude. He hated being there. He hated us, and he worked hard at letting us know.

"What do you think?" Matt had asked me about the lecture.

"Well, I know if you retain too much carbon dioxide in your system, then you will go into respiratory acidosis," I replied.

"You think you know everything," Teddy taunted me. "Everybody worship me, for I am Alora Funk," he mocked.

"Just ignore him," Matt told me.

"Yeah, ignore me, Alora," Teddy said.

"Hey, at least Alora got in here because of her smarts. I heard you got in here because your daddy donated a wing to the library for your entrance fee. He paid over a million dollars to get his dopey, good for nothing son in," Matt jabbed back.

Teddy stood up and threw his chair to the ground, creating a loud bang in study lounge. Good thing no one was around for us to disturb. He put his fists up. "You wanna fight?"

Matt stayed calm in his seat. "And get kicked out of Harvard for good? You aren't worth that."

"What, are you chicken?"

I was sick of Teddy. We all were. I would fight him, but in my way. With my Zen, I grabbed some of Teddy's energy and gave it to Matt. Teddy didn't completely fall like Dr. Harrison had, but he stumbled to the floor. His head was rolling around, and he crawled up on all fours. He looked like a sick dog, about to vomit. The color in his face drained.

I glanced over at Matt. He hadn't even noticed Teddy because he was enraptured by the extra energy I had given him. He looked at his hands then spun in a circle. His smile spread across his face. He ran in place.

"I feel great!" he said, entirely forgetting about Teddy. The other two girls in the group glanced back and forth between Matt and Teddy. They looked confused as they tried to figure things out since both boys were acting weird. Matt acted like he was high on drugs while Teddy seemed like he was dying on the floor. It was great. I loved learning more about what I could do with energy, and I loved watching Teddy suffer. He deserved the humiliation as he rocked on all fours. After Teddy wet himself, I gave him three quarters of his energy back. I let Matt keep the last quarter since he had stood up for me. He deserved it.

With the majority of his energy returned, Teddy jumped up and ran out of the lounge. He hadn't even bothered to grab his things. I hoped his disgracing experience would give him a slice of humility.

As we rotated study groups, I wanted to have more fun. I wasn't as greedy with the other's energy as I had been with Teddy's. I would grab little parts of someone's energy and pass it around the group, watching as members instantly became tired, while others rejuvenated. It was really entertaining. My fourth group was in the library and every time the librarian passed our table, I would zap her with a bolt of energy. When it hit her, she would jump and let out a small squeak. I wondered if it felt like an electric shock, because I sent it with a great amount of force. After a while she would eye our table, not daring to go by it again. My experiments were so fun, and I was learning a lot.

Monday, I couldn't wait to see Dr. Moody. At first, I was going to tell him about what had happened, but I decided to show him instead. I hadn't wanted to be rude and take his energy, so I gave him a small hit of mine. It was a low hit, because I didn't want to give him too much of my energy. He ate, not even reacting to my small zap. I repeated it until I had hit him five times with it.

"Have you been feeling that?" I couldn't take the silence anymore.

"Feeling what," he said with a poker face.

"Have you been feeling bolts of energy?"

"Well, yeah. What do you know about that?" he asked, giving me a strange look.

I had a huge smile. "I have figured out how to control energy. I can grab it from people and objects and share it with others. I have been giving you some of my energy."

"Do it again," he challenged.

"Do you mind if I take yours for a moment?" I asked.

"Only if you return it."

I reached out with my Zen and grabbed his energy; only a small amount. He went limp in his chair and instantly peed his pants. He looked sick and it frightened me. I really didn't think I had taken too much. Quickly, I returned it, scared of what I had done. He was obviously feebler than Dr. Harrison had been.

"Alora, did you mean for me to wet myself?"

I blushed and looked away.

"That was something else though," he continued. "So you took my energy and returned it," he surmised as he looked down at his pants. "I'm going to have to run home and change," he said a matter of factly, unconcerned by wetting himself.

"Yes," I said, not wanting to look at him, being ashamed for causing him to wet himself.

"Did you do that to Dr. Harrison last Friday?" he asked.

I wouldn't answer him because I didn't want to get in trouble, but he could read my poker face. I took my eyes off of my lap and said, "Yes, that was me."

Both of Dr. Moody's hands covered his mouth. His eyes bulged out.

I smiled, proud of myself.

"Can you move things?" he asked.

I am not sure why, but I hadn't really tried. I had moved my pencil one time, but then I had been distracted by taking object's energy forces. I suddenly had the desire to experiment more on telekinesis.

Wanting to see if I could impress Dr. Moody more -and interested in what I could do-I used my Zen to take books off the shelf. I had twelve off, and begun spinning them in a circle, somewhat like a tornado of books. We could feel the wind flow off them as they spun in orbit. Dr. Moody looked completely enraptured by my experiment. I was a tingle myself, for not only could I do it, but it was easy for me. One by one, I returned the books to the shelf.

"Alora, that is phenomenal!" Dr. Moody had a fun look on his face, one I hadn't seen before. His eyes seemed to twinkle at my task.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Make me a promise," Dr. Moody said as he rubbed his long fingers together, a sound of sandpaper coming off them.

"Alright," I replied. I wondered what magnificent feat he wanted me to try.

"Have you told anyone about this yet?" he asked.

"No, I was waiting for you to be the first one I shared it with."

"That is very considerate of you. Please don't share this with anyone. At least not yet."

"But why? I really wanted to show Dr. Van Hassel."

"Please, trust me on this, Alora. I will give you a better answer tomorrow, but until then, don't tell anyone."

I promised Dr. Moody I wouldn't. After class, I planned on spending the rest of the night experimenting on moving things, wondering if there was a weight limit on what I could move. When I returned to my dorm, there was a letter from Peggy on my pillow. The letter made me forget about Telekinesis until my next meeting with Dr. Moody. It read:

Dear Alora,

_I am so sorry for the way our parting went. Can you please forgive me? I now look back at it, and I am sure I looked really selfish in not letting you go to summer camp. Please let me explain my reasoning. I was so scared. It is as simple as that. I know it sounds like a poor excuse for not letting you go to camp. But, I was trying to protect you. You see, I had a best friend in 9_ th _grade who went to summer camp. It is funny, because she begged and begged her mom to let her go. Her mom kept saying she had a bad feeling about it, but my friend begged so much, her mom finally let her go. I tried to get my parents to let me go, but when they said no, I didn't ask again. I wasn't that type of kid to go against their word. Anyway, my friend went to camp, and guess what? She came home pregnant. It was awful, for she wasn't that type of girl, but as you can see, anything can happen at camp, for kids aren't really supervised at camp. No one there holds an invested interest in the kids like their parents do._

I didn't want to put you in a situation where your virtues and values would be tested. Angela said I needed to give you that chance so you would be strong. I guess she was right.

I know what a big deal this camp is going to be to your career. I have researched it while you have been there and I am blown away by what kind of things they have set up for you. I imagine you are going to come home a brainiac.

We sure miss you. I want you to know I have talked to Mr. Cox and he said we can take you back when you return. I am so sorry I closed the door for a moment. I was angry and I had acted poorly.

The kids miss you. Mike misses you. I miss you. Please have fun, but please come back to us soon. And while you are there, remember who you are. Make good choices and stay away from boys.

Love,

Mom Sanibel.

...

Peggy's letter made me feel so good, and the best part about it, was she wanted me back! I had been scared to leave camp when it ended, because I didn't know where I was going to go. I missed the Sanibels a little, but I really missed everything else. I missed the reservoir, the camp ground, and the canyon. I missed my school, and Mandy. I was longing to go back.

...

When the night had ended, I was trying to go to sleep, but Sharon was making too much noise as she was trying to complete her homework. She cranked her radio on and jammed to it while studying. It was already midnight, and I was exhausted. I wanted to sleep.

"Please turn the music off and go to bed," I whined for what felt like the hundredth time.

"Can't. This homework is due tomorrow. I can't let my grades slip."

"I can't go to sleep with all of your racket. At least turn your radio off," I yelled as I threw the pillow over my head.

"Hey, I didn't ask for you to be my roommate. My parents paid for a private dorm so I could stay up as late as I needed to in order to get my homework done."

"I need to sleep."

"My grade is worth more than your sleep," she said as she turned the volume up a notch. Someone banged and yelled through the wall, "Shut up!"

"Yeah, Alora, shut that music off!" Sharon said as she put her mouth close to the wall.

She turned her volume down enough to not bother our neighbors anymore, but still loud enough to prevent me from going to sleep. I was seething under the pillow. What a selfish person she was. All Sharon ever cared about was her advancement. She didn't care whose toes she crushed on the journey, as long as she felt like she was getting ahead. I was exhausted and finding really unkind feelings seep into me, when an idea hit me. Sharon obviously had too much energy. I could make her want to go to sleep in seconds. I sat up and watched her. This was going to be sick. I couldn't wait. Vengefully, I reached my Zen out and took some energy from her, like I had with Dr. Harrison. She collapsed to the floor. She was so weak. She couldn't pull herself up. I decided I better give her some of it back, for I didn't want to kill her. I let her suffer for a few more seconds then returned some. She was exhausted. Without brushing her teeth, or putting her homework away, she crawled into her bed and went to sleep. I hoped she hadn't wet herself.

I had absorbed her energy and it was making me hyper. I wanted to run around the room, feeling it surge through me as it visited every cell within. Since I was no longer tired, I wanted to crank the radio on and see how she liked it? It was too late to be so pumped up. I took her energy, and a little of mine and sent it through the wall into the dorm on the other side. Happy to have Sharon asleep, I quickly joined her in the land of slumber.

In the morning, Sharon was dragging. Apparently, she hadn't fully restored the energy she had lost. It really made a good experiment because I would have guessed her body would have regenerated her lost energy while she slept. She had bags under her eyes and she looked beat. She was very concerned because she hadn't finished her homework. As I looked out the window, I could see students walk by. I had an idea. I started ciphering small bits of energy from each person down below. Since it was such small amounts, I doubted anyone would notice it was gone. I took the collection of energy and gave them to Sharon. I must have overdone it, for soon she was running around the room very hyper. She reminded me of a three year old because of how annoying she was acting.

"It looks like someone woke up," I said.

"Yeah, it is the weirdest thing. Just moments ago, I was so tired, but now I feel like I can move a mountain."

"Why don't you use that energy and finish your homework assignment?"

"Oh, good idea!" she said.

I don't know why I helped her with her energy. She had been such a jerk the night before. She deserved to be sluggish, and she deserved to fail her assignment. But, I guess all the Sundays I had gone to church with the Sanibels had formed a bit of a conscious in me. As I wanted to see Sharon suffer, I remembered Jesus Christ, and how he had prayed for those who had hurt him. I had learned so much in church about forgiveness. All the Sundays the Sanibels had dragged me to church, I didn't think I had listened, but it seemed to have taken a place in me, because I decided to forgive Sharon.

Sharon sat down and with the last fifteen minutes before we had to leave, she finished her work. "Wow, that was the fastest I ever got homework done," she said. "I'm so alert." I tried to hide my smile.

...

While I was in class, I was so bored. Nothing new was being taught. I used my Zen and picked the paper off of my desk. It looked like it was levitating. I had forgotten where I was. Nervous, I hurried and dropped it and looked around the room. No one was paying any attention to me. The class looked hollow, like they were burnt-out and about to fall asleep. When I was sure no one was watching me, I used my Zen to pick the paper off the table again. I tossed it back and forth, then dropped it.

I shot my hand up in the air. "Can I be excused to the bathroom?" I asked.

Dr. Morris replied, "Is it bathroom break right now on your agenda?" he asked condescendingly. Dr. Morris was a stickler for rules. He refused to do a thing that wasn't in correspondence to a rule.

"I would like to use my free pass," I said. We had all been given two bathroom passes to use whenever we needed to. Other than that, we were expected to go during the breaks on the agenda. Once the passes were gone, we were out of luck.

"I suppose if you want to squander your pass at this very moment, then I am not permitted to get in your way, but I would like to bring it to your attention how class excuses in ten minutes and one would be wise to wait and use the pass on a more opportune time."

"Sorry, I must go now," I said as I jumped up and ran by his desk, tossing my pass at him. It missed his desk and fell on the floor.

"Hey, stop and pick this up," he hollered after me. I kept running.

I had been smart enough to grab my backpack, because I knew I wouldn't be returning to his class that day. I ducked into the bathroom. I looked under all the stalls and found I had the bathroom to myself. I emptied the contents of my backpack on the counter.

"Okay, let's do this," I said. I picked each thing up with my Zen. I found on the heavier things I had to use more of my energy. I also learned I wasn't limited to one Zen. Just like at Dr. Moody's office, I was open to multiple Zens and I could lift many things up at once. I smiled as I watched the textbooks float around the bathroom. I had pens going in circles. I formed my papers into airplanes and had them zooming around the room. While the contents of my backpack were flying around the bathroom, I turned water faucets on. With my Zen, I took the water and splashed it across the wall. From the toilets, I lifted the water out into dancing, swirling water displays.

"I rule!" I exclaimed in triumph. I was having so much fun.

The bathroom door opened. Instantly I cut my Zen off, and everything fell to the floor. The bathroom looked trashed by my things. The floor was sopping with water.

"What are you doing in here?" a third year student asked as she saw the mess.

"I tripped," I lied. "Did the bell ring?" I asked.

"Yeah, like five minutes ago."

I had been in the bathroom for fifteen minutes! Time had cruised. The third year student went into a stall.

"Eww, the toilet seats are all wet and so is the floor. What have you been doing?"

I used my Zen to quickly levitate all my things back into my backpack. I felt a little drowsy. I noticed I had depleted some of my energy with the party I had had. As I was leaving the bathroom, I stole a bit of the third year's student's energy to replenish my own. I then caught up to my study group, which was in our outside meeting spot.

I spent the rest of the day perfecting my Zen. The more I levitated things, the easier it had come to me. I think a few times, other students noticed the objects around the class room floating. I had decided to lift things in the corners of the classroom, keeping the experiment far from me.

I couldn't wait to meet with Dr. Moody, but unfortunately, he was sick. I was bummed I couldn't reveal to him all I was learning. It was really hard for me not to flaunt to the other kids what I could do. I knew I would impress them, but kept it to myself because Dr. Moody had made me promise to keep it a secret. I wanted to tell him I was going to start showing others. Why did the secrecy matter?

When I was ready to go to bed, I made sure Sharon was ready as well. As she climbed into bed, she complained at how she had suddenly become so tired at the end of the day. I hid my face under my pillow as I laughed. It would teach her to never be a night owl again. I didn't know if it was the Christian thing to do, but I hadn't fully embraced Christianity. The next day, I worked on my abilities again in first and second period. I then went outside with my group for study time.

# Chapter 24

The fire-

Our study group had met outside by a few trees. It didn't take long for our topic to get off subject, and soon everyone was talking about what super hero power they wanted.

"I would control people's minds," Dustin said.

"I would fly," Nate said.

"I would stop time," said Jerald

"I would make fire," Steve said.

"What about you," Dustin asked me. "What would you do, Alora?"

"Um, fly, I guess."

I decided I already had super hero powers, for I could move things. The kids in the group continued to debate why the power they choose was better. Nathan was going on and on about what he would do if he could fly, which gave me an idea.

While they continued their pissing match, I reclined against a tree and looked like I might take a nap. Everyone ignored me which was what I wanted. I stretched my Zen forth and picked up Nathan and levitated him in the air. I found since he was heavier than anything I had experimented with, he used much more of my energy.

"Holy Toledo, Nate, you are flying! You are flying!" Jerald screamed.

"How are you doing that?" Steve asked equally as wired.

"I don't know, I don't know," Nathan said in astonishment. I had him do aerial summersaults, spinning forward, then back. His brown hair flipping all around. The study group members stood, with their eyes locked onto Nate. He had an expression simultaneously of pure delight and utter fear. As I moved him around, I tried to keep him fairly close to the ground. I could feel my energy being sapped away. It took a lot to keep Nathan in the air.

"Can you go higher?"

"How fast can you go?"

"Pick me up, and fly with me," were the things the others said to him.

"So cool," I said as I stood up. Standing was hard to do, and I was tiring quickly. I borrowed a bit of Steve's energy so I could keep Nate up for a little bit longer. Nate tried to control the direction of his levitation, but I kept control.

I was getting weak. It had taken almost everything I had to fly Nate around. I carefully dropped him to the ground. I figured since I had made his wish come true, he owed me, so I borrowed some of his energy to restore my own lost reserves. I still felt weak, so I borrowed a little from Steve, Dustin, and Jerald as well.

The boys gathered around Nate. "How did you do that?"

"Do it again."

"Take me for a flight."

Our group didn't get any more studying in. When it was time, we went back to class. Word quickly spread across the campus about how Nate had flown, making him an instant celebrity. When kids asked me about it, I underplayed it.

"I am not sure he was really flying. I think it was an illusion the group had created," I told people. As the rumor circulated, some were willing to believe it, but most did not. My name never got tied up in the event.

I was happy to have Dr. Moody back in class. When class dismissed, he invited me back in his office for dinner. There was lime chicken with goat cheese and pine nuts in the middle. He was introducing me to fine food. He said he always ate well. I could tell by his portly belly that he did. As he sat across from me, he had a twinkle in his eye. His aura was a golden orange.

"That was you, wasn't it?" he said.

I blushed and looked away. "I don't know what you are talking about."

"Making that boy fly. Tell me that had nothing to do with you."

I continued to look at the flower. I sent my Zen to the flower and took it to Dr. Moody. He reached out and grabbed it.

"I must say, I am very impressed."

"Thanks," I said, finally looking at him in the eyes.

"But, I am also scared."

"Are you scared of the unknown?" I asked.

"I am scared for your future."

"I am sure my future is pretty bright," I replied.

"No, no it is not. You must be careful, or you will have no future."

"What do you mean?"

"I want you to watch a movie. What do you have going the rest of the day?"

"Science engineering, break, then math."

"You are going to miss science engineering. Is that alright?"

"I thought I wasn't supposed to deviate from the agenda."

"You're not."

"Well, then how am I going to do it?"

"I will tell them I detained you."

"Will I get in trouble?"

"I won't let you get in trouble," he said.

He didn't seem to be much in a hurry. I told him if we watched the movie while we ate, it would save time, but he didn't want to. He said the movie was disturbing and it would spoil our fine dinner. After we ate, he cleaned up his desk. We went into his classroom where he put on a movie. I must admit it was a bit creepy sitting in the huge lecture hall alone with Dr. Moody.

I don't know why, but I had been expecting an entertaining movie. It wasn't. It wasn't even a professional documentary of any type. It was an electronic journal, of sorts. It was created by a scientist. His focus was on a twelve year old girl. It was old, recorded many years before. He explained in scientific jargon which I fully understood, how the girl had the abilities of telekinetic. He took to calling the girl subject 341, depersonalizing her.

The camera focused on subject 341. She was in a small, cement room. She could levitate paper, and magnets, and playing cards. He tried to have her do bigger things, but at first, she couldn't do it. Seeing her in the cement room made me wonder if I was ever subjected to the same type of experiments.

Each time he recorded her, she was able to lift bigger objects. By the end, she had been able to lift a chair for a short distance across the room. Although the movie had been painfully long, it had ended without any conclusion.

"I don't see how it was disturbing," I said.

"I'm sure it didn't look disturbing, but the story behind the movie is this-Dr. Granger had found this girl. I believe she had been on a local news channel when someone had reported to them what she could do. Anyhow, this girl's name was Candice Clemmings. I later researched as much about her as I could.

"Candice was a ward of the state. That means the state owned her in a sense. She didn't have parents. In nineteen seventy four, she lived at an Orphanage in Chicago called _Angel Guardian_. The state was in the process of shutting down the orphanage. They had hundreds of kids to get rid of. When Dr. Granger came requesting Candice Clemmings, they easily released her custody to his university."

"What university was it? This one?"

"Oh no, Harvard would never get itself involved in a scandal like that one."

"What university was it then?"

"I am not going to say, for I am embarrassed by what they did, and I currently have several friends working there. I don't want to tarnish their name."

"Are you sure it wasn't Harvard?" I asked.

"I promise on my mother's grave," he said sternly.

"So what happened? Why is this a bad story? It sounds like they rescued Candice. I am much like her. I liked it when I was rescued."

"The fact you are like her scares me even more. I don't think Candice had the same abilities you do. Somehow, she had broken into the science of telekinesis, but I think that is where her gifts started and stopped. Anyway, Dr. Granger subjected that poor child into tests, upon tests, upon tests. When he wasn't testing her, he was forcing her to entertain colleagues with her telekinetic abilities.

"He drained the life out of this poor child. She never got a break, for he was going insane. He thought he had discovered something pretty amazing, and he wasn't about to miss his opportunity for having his name written up in all the scientific journals.

"Candice Clemmings slowly lost the ability for telekinesis. I think he had overworked her. As he saw it slip away, he saw his dreams go with it. He wouldn't let it happen, so he mixed up a cocktail of drugs and gave them to her. Her abilities sprouted during that time. Do you remember in the movie when she moved the chair? She had done that after he had given her all those drugs. He got greedy and kept giving her stronger doses. Her teeth quickly rotted and her hair fell out. In the end, it took her life."

I felt sick. I really wished Dr. Moody hadn't shared her story with me. "Why didn't anyone stop him? Why was he allowed to do that to a kid?" I wanted to cry, dread filled me.

"I guess it was because Candice Clemmings didn't have anyone to watch over her, to advocate for her. None of Dr. Granger's colleagues knew the extent of what was going on. They all testified they thought subject 341's mom was dropping her off at the university every now and then. They didn't realize Dr. Granger had her locked in his lab, like a lab monkey."

I was angry at Dr. Granger, and I was angry at Dr. Moody for telling me all this. "That is so disturbing. Why did you have to tell it to me?" I yelled. I felt sick.

"Because, Alora Funk, I don't want to see you become the next Candice Clemmings."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I see this happening all over again. You are a ward of the state, aren't you? You don't have any parents or anyone who cares about you, watching over you."

His words hurt.

"It's already happening. The state let you come to Harvard for a month. One full month of no supervision. Have they checked in with you?"

I shook my head.

"No, I didn't think so. We could have already zapped your brain by now. You are light years ahead of Candice Clemmings. You already have the heads of all the departments spinning with your abilities of recollection and recall. The last thing they need to know is how you can channel object's energy and you can lift things with that energy."

"They wouldn't do anything to me. Things have changed a lot since the seventies," I naively said.

"You really think so? Alora, my dear, this has already happened to you. You have already been the guinea pig to someone."

"Who, you?" I asked.

"Oh, heavens no, not me. To the Russians, whoever they represented. You told me yourself you were locked in a cement room and was imprisoned by a drug induced coma. They didn't do that to you because they wanted a vegetable in the basement. They were doing some sort of experimentation on you, you mark my word. This is very real, and the potential of you ending up like Candice Clemmings is very real."

I felt horrible. I wanted to run and hide. I wanted to give back all my weird gifts and be like everyone else. I wanted to become lost in the hustle and bustle of the Sanibel family.

"What am I supposed to do?" I glumly asked.

"I don't know, lay low I guess. Don't appear to be so brilliant. Whatever you do, do not let anyone run experiments on you. They will start out small, ask if they can hook up an electrode to your brain to measure your neurological brain activity, but don't let them. Once they start, there will be more tests, and they will keep going and never end. Just don't allow them to test you."

"But they test me all the time," I said.

"How so?"

"I don't know, like all the tests we do every Monday."

Dr. Moody laughed. "No, those are fine. You can take academic tests on paper, but nothing else, do you promise?"

"I promise. I still don't know what I am supposed to do."

"I don't know. Enjoy you are brilliant, and get yourself a nice career with it, but nothing else. Don't be experimented upon, and don't show off. If you start letting people know you can pick up objects with your own energy, they are going to lock you up against your will. I promise you that."

"Can I always turn to you if I need to?" I asked.

"Of course you can," he said, giving me a one armed, friendly hug from the side.

I went back to my dorm very depressed. I had been having fun with my new abilities, but now I didn't want them, for they scared me. When I got into my room, I was pleased to find a letter on my bed. It was from the Petersons. I needed something to take my mind off my sorrow. With hope, I opened the letter.

Dear Alora

We had such a great time with you when

you were here. We want you to know

we have talked to Child Protective Services and they

have given us permission to adopt you

if that is what you want. We don't

want to rush you into anything, but

we want you to know we love you

and want you to think about it.

...

Enclosed with the letter was a picture of us enjoying the Fourth of July festivities together.

I sat on the bed and stared at the picture. The Petersons would protect me against the scientists of the world. They wouldn't let anyone experiment upon me. They would be my parents, and I could call them Mom and Dad forever.

...

Sharon was being particularly sour. She had received a letter in the mail from her family. They had enclosed five hundred dollars in it.

She was ranting and raving to herself, "I am not allowed to leave the campus. You guys should have known that. What good is this five hundred dollars, if not to torture me? I hate it here. I want to get out for a night, one night, is that too much to ask? Why are they so controlling? This is our lives, not theirs!"

I was lying in bed and she kept going on and on. I couldn't take any more of it. I opened my Zen and was going to use it, but I held back for a moment. I wondered if it was wise to keep messing with other's energy like I had been doing. I really had no idea what the physical effects on the body were. As I was weighing these things in my mind, Sharon bad mouthed me.

Since she must have thought I was asleep, she wasn't careful with her words about me. She expressed her deep disdain in me and all my smartness. She said cutting remarks about what she thought the Russians really did to me. Then she picked up my letter from Peggy and read it out loud, mocking everything on it. I couldn't take it anymore. As I was deciding if I should pretend to stay asleep, or if I should do something, she ripped my letter up then went back to her money. She picked it up and talked about how wealthy she was coming from Winchesters and how I was a lowly no-body. I couldn't take anymore. Still pretending to be asleep, I sent my Zen to her. I was planning on taking her money, but I was so angry the heat from my energy ignited it instead, sending it up in flames.

She screamed as she dropped the flaming money on her bed. The fire spread over her homework and her quilt. She screamed again as she opened her water bottle and tried to put the flames out. The smoke billowed up to the fire alarm, and it went off as an ear piercing siren. The sprinkler heads popped out and the flood gates opened. I sat up in bed, as if I had woken up to the siren.

"What's going on?" I asked, rubbing my eyes.

...

Our dorm was evacuated. The sprinklers put out the small fire before the firefighters even got there. The water had damaged our side of the dorms, displacing us and the other eight girls in the program. We were sent to another dorm. Since it was against policy to have any flammables or fire paraphernalia in the room, Sharon was suspended for arson.

I had to admit, I felt slightly bad and responsible for her punishment. The damage was going to be costly. They did promise Sharon if her parents covered the cost of the restoration then she would be allowed to return the following year.

I was moved into a new dorm room all by myself.

The next evening as I dined on lobster tail with Dr. Moody, he finally brought up the subject of the fire.

"Was that you?" he asked.

Why did he always think everything was me? I couldn't look him in the eyes as I felt my cheeks flush.

"How was it me?"

"I read the reports. Sharon claimed the whole time the money had spontaneously combusted. There is not a person on the faculty who believes her, except maybe me, considering who her roommate was."

"Who, me?"

"Did you know she is in a lot of trouble? Are you okay with her taking the brunt of what should be _your_ punishment?"

"I didn't mean to. Should I go and tell Dr. Van Hassel it was me?"

"NO! What's done is done," he snapped as he dipped a chunk of red lobster meat into a ceramic bowl of melted butter. I hadn't eaten lobster before, so I mimicked his actions. My first bite blew me away. The rich, buttery goodness of the meat was astounding. I never knew food could taste so good. Dr. Moody had been introducing me to a line of fine food.

"Do you think her parents will pay for the damage?" I asked with my cheeks stuffed full of potatoes.

"They won't be happy about it, but most of the kids in this summer camp have parents with pretty deep pockets. That Sharon kid was a bit of a tort, and I reckon she will come back more humble next year."

We ate for a moment in silence.

"How did you do it?" Dr. Moody asked.

"Do what?"

"Start fire?"

"My energy got so hot it combusted."

"Precisely what I thought happened. Can you do it again?"

"Is this an experiment?" I joked.

"You don't have to do it if you are not comfortable."

"Will you put it out before it sets the sprinkles off?" I asked. "I can't be connected to two fires on the campus."

"How about we go to my lab?" he said.

I followed him into the lab. He put a dry piece of parchment on a work table. "Go ahead," he said.

I pulled my Zen out, and worked myself up until I felt it get really hot then I sent it to the parchment. The paper went up in flames. I felt powerful watching what I had done. Quickly, he covered it with a metal lid before too much smoke appeared.

"You are a rare treasure."

I beamed.

# Chapter 25

The broken heart-

Over the weekend, I used my study time to experiment more on my findings. I had the ability to move things, to transfer energy, and to create fire. I really didn't do much with the fire, because I didn't want to set off any more sprinklers.

Since I had the dorm room to myself, I rearranged all my furniture with my Zen. When I was done, I felt depleted of my energy. I looked out the window to see if there was anyone I could borrow some energy from, but no one walked by. I reached through the walls and grabbed some from the girls on the other side.

...

"The thing is," I told Dr. Moody over bacon-potato chowder. "I get so warn-out when I move things. I have to use my energy to do it, then I become pretty weak."

"Why do you have to use your energy?" he asked.

"Well, it is done with energy. It has to come from somewhere."

"Why don't you take from the energy around you? I know I don't have to tell you this, for you already know it, but there is energy everywhere. We live in giant energy fields. Tap into these fields and use them for your energy of transference."

Dr. Moody was brilliant! Why hadn't I thought of that first? I tapped into the energy from all around. It was mind numbing to how much available energy there was. Here we lived in a world always crying about not enough energy, and it was right around us.

I found as I used the free source of energy, my movements with the objects became smoother and refined. The great thing was I didn't tire when I borrowed from the abundant energy around me. The other thing I liked, was whenever I got tired, I would reenergize myself with the energy field. I used to feel a little evil when I would take energy from others to rebuild my own. I liked how I could now take it from all the free energy around me.

The next day, when I was playing with energy fields, I made the discovery of a lifetime. I could use my Zen and feel the molecules in objects I touched. Since I had the chemical composition to literally every element know recorded in my memory, I felt like I could experiment with molecular composition. I was glad Dr. Moody had let me memorize his books. With that knowledge, I was able to do what I had originally been hoping for. I rearranged the matter in my homework paper and turned it into a rock. It wasn't really difficult, because we are surrounded by all the molecules needed to create things. They are right there, abundantly available. It is like everything around us is waiting to be formed and manipulated. I added what I needed to the paper to create the rock.

During my study group, I transformed a leaf into grass, and grass into a leaf. I changed water into ice. I turned my socks into pillows and even took a short nap on them. My experiments were so small and secret no one noticed what I was up to. I couldn't wait to see Dr. Moody.

...

"Oh my, oh my, oh my," Dr. Moody said, as he watched me rearrange the matter in his plate and make it become a teapot. "It is a good thing you are leaving here soon, kid."

"Why?" I asked a little hurt.

"Because, if you stay around much longer, I might start doing experiments on you myself." I laughed at what he said, but I think he must have meant it, because he wouldn't allow us to have dinner together anymore. The next time after class, he dismissed us, and immediately locked himself in his office.

"Why can't I come in?" I asked, pounding on his door.

"Because, you are too much of a temptation."

"Temptation? Temptation for what?"

"You have the abilities to change this whole world. You have a power beyond anything comprehendible. You are what all scientists search for."

"Then help me channel it, help me know what to do with it."

Dr. Moody cracked his door open. "Only you can do that."

"But, I don't know what to do with it."

"Alora, not only do you have an amazing ability, you also have all the scientific knowledge to go along with it. At least you are not an idiot who has been given this ability. That could be very dangerous. You have a brilliant mind, and you will figure out how to best channel your abilities. I warn you. Be very careful who you share your secret with, for even your own mother, if you had one, might betray you to tap into your power. So please, keep most of this to yourself. Don't let yourself fall into the wrong hands, for your abilities could destroy the world."

"Please help me?" I begged. The fear inside me was overwhelming.

Dr. Moody slammed the door so fast. He almost got my nose in it. "I am sorry," I heard him through the door. "You hold so much potential. You are now a temptation to me. You shouldn't have shared this knowledge with me, for now I want to test your abilities. I want to experiment upon you and have my name written up in the scientific journals."

"I trust you. I don't mind. You can experiment upon me. I will let you," I said. The way he hid from me severed my spirit. I was desperate to keep our friendship going. I would have done anything for him.

He squeaked the door open again. "Please Alora, don't be so naive. You can't trust anyone, not even me," again he slammed the door.

"But, I will let you experiment with me. I too want to know my capacity, like you do. You can help me run tests and things so we can know my full potential. I don't think I could do this on my own." Warm tears were sliding down my cheeks. I swiped at them with a fist.

The door flew open. A cup of water splashed into my face. "LEAVE!" he screamed.

I ran bawling from his classroom. He broke my heart into a million pieces.

...

Our last day of camp was Saturday. The university threw us a goodbye banquet. They included students from all years. Embarrassingly, I won all three awards for the first year class.

When I returned to my dorm room for my last night, there was a letter on my bed. It was from Mr. Scary.

Alora,

I wanted to inform you that you have two families who

wish to foster you. I do not wish to influence you

in any way, but I want you to consider your

best option. The first family is the Sanibels. They

are sorry for kicking you out and wish for your return. I want

you to remember they did kick you out.

They are a fine family, I suppose, but

they probably will never adopt you.

The second family is the Petersons.

They want to adopt you, if that is what you

want. I would imagine you would find

a nice home with them.

Please let us know your decision when

you arrive back to Utah. I will

be at the airport to pick you up.

Mr. Cox

Suddenly I felt bad for calling Mr. Cox Mr. Scary for so long. It was because of him I made it to camp. He really was advocating for me. I decided I would start calling him Mr. Cox.

# Chapter 26

The unwelcome home-

I didn't sleep, for I had too much to think about. Who would I return to live with? Both of the families had potential, but there were also negatives to both.

With the Sanibels, I would have a large family. I would live in their unique yellow house by the reservoir. I loved the reservoir. I loved the campground and being in the canyon; however, I hated the messes. I hated being hungry. I hated how disconnected the Sanibels were with the kids. I liked the shed and sleeping in it. I liked Taz. I liked the freedom to come and go as I pleased. I loved Mandy. I liked my school and my friends. I didn't like how they made me go to church.

With the Petersons, I liked the smallness of the family. At least until the baby was born, I would be the sole recipient of the Peterson's attention. I was sure if I needed clothes, they would buy some for me; however, I had the nice collection from Dr. Van Hassel. Erin had taken them to the dry cleaner earlier, because of the water from the sprinkler system. Also, with the Petersons, I would get enough to eat. I wouldn't have to fight for my food. But, I would hate living in their small stucco rambler right there in the middle of a sea of ramblers. They barely had their own yard and it felt like everyone was on top of each other. I liked how they didn't make me go to church.

I couldn't make a choice. There were pros and cons to both decisions. When the sun rose, I was so tired from not sleeping. I felt foolish. Why had I allowed myself to become so tired? I quickly gathered some energy. Making myself feel like new. I would never have to be tired again. I wondered if I could sell my energy to tired college students. ' _Safe energy for_ _cheap_ '. I could probably make a fortune.

Carlson came to my dorm and carried my two luggage bags to the limousine. I was glad to be leaving. Summer was almost over, and I wanted a little bit of time to myself. I still hadn't decided where I was going to live. In the back of the limo, Dr. Van Hassel was waiting for me.

"I take it you had a lovely time here?" he asked.

"Oh yes I did. Thanks for everything." I realized I hadn't seen much of him over the month.

"You earned it, so don't thank me. It came from a scholarship." He looked so prestigious in his black suit, vest, dark gray tie, and white, crisp shirt. I was glad I had the chance to personally rub shoulders with someone so important.

"I heard you gave me the scholarship and clothes," I said. Dr. Van Hassel's face became red. The mood became uncomfortable as he looked away.

I decided to quickly change the subject.

"Do I get to come back next year?" I already knew I did, but I was trying to change the mood.

"You know you do. But Alora, I have an offer even better than that."

"What is it?" I asked as I took a sip of the grape soda he had offered me. Just then we went over a bump, I spilled quite a bit on his white leather seat. My heart felt like it dropped into my stomach. He had been looking out the side of his window. He hadn't seen what I had done. Quickly, I slid my body over the purple stain so he wouldn't notice it.

As I sat over it, I used my Zen to remove the stain out of the leather. I lifted my thigh and snuck a peak underneath. The stain was gone. I loved my Zen!

Dr. Van Hassel turned to me as he sat up tall. "Alora, we expected great things from you when you came this summer. Your abilities blew us away. I don't even think you realized what you were capable of."

Little did he know.

"You have managed to use your brain to a level none of the rest of us can hope to aspire to. It would be a shame to watch nothing happen with your gift. I for one do not want to see it go idle. What I propose to you, is to return to the school this fall and we will really open your potential."

I choked on some of the soda. I coughed until I cleared my lungs. "What kind of tests?" I blurted out.

"Similar to the ones you already took. What we are looking to do is place you in a program. If you are good enough, we can put you in some accelerated programs and work toward your doctorate."

"You mean, I could get a doctorate without taking anymore classes?"

"Well yes, and no. You could test out of some classes, but that isn't our intentions to let your mind go idle. We would still like to see you learn."

"But what if I don't have anything left to learn? What if I know it all?"

"You are certainly pompous."

His remark cut into me, and I felt silly for my statement.

"Sure there are always new things to learn. I imagine, and I could be wrong, you are well versed in the sciences, but what about other areas of life. Do you have a good grasp on history? Could you write a haiku? How are your grammar skills and English skills?

"I don't know. Why don't you ask me a question and we will see if I know the answer to it," I responded.

"What is the Defense of the Realm Act, and when was it put into place?"

My mind was blank. "I don't know," I admitted.

"How about, what happened July first, nineteen sixteen?"

"Don't know."

"Just as I thought. You see Alora, you still have a lot to learn."

...

During my flight home, my mind raced. There were so many choices to consider. I had to decide where I was going to live, and if I was going to return to Harvard in the fall. Did I really want to kiss away my childhood by spending the remainder of it in college? The last few weeks of the camp had really dragged on. I was sure if I returned in the fall, there wouldn't be kids my age there. It would probably all be adults. I really wanted the experiences of getting my driver's license then cruising around places with friends. I wanted to go to parties and dances and all the things the Sanibel kids talked about. I would have my whole life to be an adult. I had only one childhood, and most of it had already been stolen.

Of course, I was also afraid to return to Harvard. What if Dr. Moody was right? What if they wanted to run experiments on me? What if they hurt me or zapped my brain, or filled me with drugs?

I wanted to return to the Petersons. They were kind and they would treat me well. It would be nice to no longer be poor and filthy. The only problems was, I hated where they lived. I couldn't be trapped in their small stucco rambler, with only a suburbia subdivision to explore.

I loved where the Sanibels lived, and I even liked them a bit, but they weren't the greatest family. Although they boasted about how amazing they were, they really weren't. I sure had a hard decision to make.

...

Mr. Cox met me at the airport and took me back in his black car. I told him a little about the camp. I also told him about Dr. Van Hassel's offer. When he heard that, he became adamant I return to Harvard in the fall. He said one in a million foster kids get a chance like that, and I would be an idiot if I turned it down.

Back at Child Protective Services, I sat in the meeting room as Mr. Cox awaited my decision. He said he would call whatever family I chose and they would be there shortly to pick me up.

"Don't put too much stress into figuring it out. You will only be there for two weeks, before you have to return to Harvard."

Who said I was returning to Harvard?

The decisions weighed heavily upon me.

...

I was crushed by the lack of welcome I received when I walked into my home. Mrs. Sanibel was sitting in her recliner eating a big bag of chips while watching a movie on TV. The other kids were running around the house, like usual. The place seemed extra dirty and smaller than I had remembered. There was a stench of something rotten.

Mike was the only one who had come and picked me up from Child Protective Services. The drive home had been painfully quiet. I tried to tell him a little about camp, but when it became apparent he wasn't listening, I stopped talking.

Mrs. Sanibel looked up from her chips as she wiped her greasy hands on the chair's upholstery. "Mercy me, you missed dinner. Don't worry, I didn't get enough to eat either." She took her hands and licked the salt off them, then she dived them back into the crinkly bag. She grabbed another handful of chips and shoved them into her mouth, then held the bag out to me.

"You can have a chip if you want."

My stomach turned as I imagined her slimy hands swimming through the other chips and making them soggy.

"I am fine," I said, which was a lie. I had left for the airport before breakfast was served in the cafeteria. I didn't have any money to buy anything on the flight. When Mr. Cox picked me up, he hadn't stopped to think I might be hungry. I hadn't eaten all day.

"There might be some bread in the kitchen," she said in-between licking her fingers.

I was hurt. She didn't even say hello. She didn't say, "Oh Alora, I am so glad you chose to come and live with us, you know how much we were missing you. I understand you could have gone and lived with that nice Peterson family where you never would be hungry and where everything is nice and clean, but you chose us instead, and I am so touched and honored by that." She never said that, or anything to me.

Disappointed, I dragged my heavy luggage up the stairs. Each step I took, the luggage banged against the steps and wall. After three steps up, Mike came storming out of his room. "Who is making all that racket? It has to stop now!"

He looked over and saw me trying to get my luggage up the stairs. I expected an offer to carry my luggage for me. Instead he said, "Try to be more careful! Watch my walls!"

What jerks, the both of them. Why had I chosen to come back to the Sanibels? I wanted to bawl. My stomach growled at me, reminding me it was empty. I was so angry. I looked over at Peggy whose attention had returned to some rambling commercial. I hated her at that moment. With my anger, I sent my Zen out and grabbed her chip bag. I took the bag and dumped its crumbly contents all over her head. She snapped out of her TV trance and screamed. The bag landed in her lap. She picked it up with the tips of her fingers, as if she thought it was possessed by evils sprits. She chucked the bag to the side of her chair. She was covered in chips and chip crumbs. It was perfect!

"Mercy me, how did it happen?" she jumped up and the chips scattered even deeper into her chair and onto the floor. "No, no, no," she bellowed.

Mike came storming out of the room. "What's with all the noise tonight? How can I complete this level with all this racket? Don't you guys understand how hard this level is?" he looked over at Peggy as she danced around and spread her chip mess everywhere. "What are you doing? What is with your mess? I bet you are going to leave it there, huh? I bet you won't even get off your fat butt long enough to clean it." What was he talking about fat butt? His was even wider than hers. He never cleaned anything, so how could he justify being critical to her? Satisfied with the chip disaster, I continued to drag my luggage upstairs, taking extra care to bang them as loudly as I could.

"My walls, my walls," he turned and screamed up at me.

Upstairs, I noticed Alashia and Emma had moved their things into my room. They were both on the floor playing dolls. They looked up at me, and both groaned.

"I'm not giving my room back," Alashia said.

"Me neither," said Emma.

I was downhearted as I stared at the trashed state of my room. They had put a bed on top of mine, creating a bunk bed. Another dresser had been put in. All of the girl's clothes and toys created a mountain of mess. The room was crowded and out of sorts. I wanted to cry. Why had I come back? I thought about the nice tidy room the Petersons had made me. I turned from the girls and lugged my bags back down the stairs. It immediately sent Mike flying out of his room again.

"My walls, my walls!"

I was so tired. I wanted to curl up on the stairs and cry like a baby.

"If you put a hole in my wall, you will be fixing it," he threatened. He could have been a gentleman and offered to carry my bags.

I had enough. I didn't have to be tired, and Mike didn't have to be yelling. I could solve both of those problems in one quick move. I sent out my Zen and took half of his energy and added it to mine. Instantly I felt happy, despite the situation at the moment. I looked at Mike. He had lowered to the floor and sat against the wall. His face had a green tint to it.

"I don't feel good," he groaned. He looked pale. I finished dragging my luggage down the stairs and deliberately wheeled them over his outstretched toe as I went by him. "Watch it," he moaned, lacking the strength to yell.

Peggy never even looked up to ask me where I was going. I know she must have seen me out of her peripheral vision. I dragged my bags out onto the porch. I went back in the house and found the phone. I tried calling Mr. Cox to come and get me, but there was no answer. I tried calling London, but there was no answer. What was I going to do? I had made a bad choice, and I didn't want to live there. I wanted to leave right that minute.

My stomach growled at me again. I wondered if I had any more fish in the freezer out in the shed. I wheeled my luggage out there. I opened the outside freezer to find no fish in it, empty except for a thick layer of ice buildup. I decided to go and get the bread Peggy had mentioned. I walked back in the house, down the hall, past the dining room, through the family room, and into the kitchen. There on the floor was a bread bag with both of its ends ripped open with a few slices still inside, but they were dry and crusty. In desperation, I grabbed them. I looked around to see if there was anything else to eat, but there wasn't. I took the bread back to the shed with me.

I took a bite, and the dryness almost shut my throat down. I wish I had grabbed some water on the way out. I thought about going back in the house to get some water, but I didn't want to go by the Sanibels again. As I debated going back during my second bite of bread, a thought hit me. I should make water. There was hydrogen and oxygen in the air all around me.

I would first need something to put it in. I looked to see if there were any cups in the shed. There weren't. I saw an old milk jug out there. That would work. I grabbed the milk jug with my Zen and rearranged the molecules until I had crafted a 16oz cup. I gathered the hydrogen and oxygen in the air and filled my cup up with fresh water. I wasn't sure how it would taste. Taking a drink, I found great relief from my parched throat, and satisfaction to my abilities. The water tasted really good and refreshed me. I was going to take another bite of the stale bread when another thought hit me. Why didn't I turn the bread into something worth eating? What was I in the mood for?

I held the bread in my left hand while I used my Zen to gather all the elements I would need. Since I had studied Dr. Moody's books, I knew the molecule makeup of most everything out there. With my knowledge, I borrowed from the elements all around me and constructed the atoms into a chicken. I took some more of the milk jug and turned it into a plate. I put the chicken on it, then decided to put mashed potatoes on as well. With the other piece of bread, I turned it into creamy potatoes. Things were a bit cool, so I used my energy and heated everything up. My meal tasted amazing, and I was so proud I had made it on my own. If I could make my own food whenever I was hungry, maybe life at the Sanibels wouldn't be bad. When I was halfway done eating, Peggy came into the shed.

"You wanna take the boat out?" she asked. She saw my dinner, and I watched her salivate. "Where did you get that?" she asked.

"At the airport," I lied.

"Oh, looks good," she said, licking her lips. There was no way I was going to share with her. I watched her hook the boat trailer up to the four-wheeler. I had to suppress my laugh, because I could still see little slivers of chips embedded into her hair.

...

Life felt perfect out on the water. All my stress melted away. A calmness filled me as I return to one of my favorite places. The night was still hot from the blazing hundred degree day it had been. A cool breeze blew over and felt perfect. Taz panted at my feet. I had my pole in my hand and a worm in the other. I wasn't in the mood for getting worm guts under my nails. When Peggy wasn't looking, I used my Zen to break the worm apart and put it on my hook. It was so great not having to touch it with my fingers. I cast my line out and relaxed. I was glad Peggy had forgotten it was Sunday. If she had remembered, then we wouldn't be fishing. I looked up at the brilliant white stars, their light illuminating the dark sky. At that moment, everything was perfect. I was glad I had returned.

"Did you have a good time?" Peggy asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Are you as brilliant as they had hoped?"

I was dying to tell her all about the camp, from start to finish. I wanted to tell her about Dr. Moody and our dinners together. I wanted to tell her how I could control elements and manipulate energy, but I didn't trust her. I lost my trust for her the day she refused to let me return. It still hurt me she had turned her back to me so easily. I had put up a wall against her, and I wasn't ready to take it down any time soon.

"I don't think I would call myself brilliant," I responded, even though I knew I was.

"Sure you are. I Googled their camp. Only twenty kids are picked out of thousands of applicants, and to think, you didn't even have to apply. Mandy must have done a bang up job on tutoring you."

"She did," I answered.

"Well, tell me all about your summer camp, and don't leave one detail out."

I pulled the crumpled up agenda out of my pocket. I had memorized it, but I kept it close to me as a remembrance of my experience there. I handed the agenda to Peggy.

"What is this?" she asked.

"It was my daily agenda."

"Well, it's too dark out here to read it," she said, handing it back to me.

"Try again. Hold it up to the lantern." I replied.

She put it next to the lantern where she was able to read it. "Wow. That looks like a grueling way to spend a summer, worse than school. I hope you were happy there and it was worth it to you."

"It was nice," I said, underplaying the whole thing.

"Well, tell me more. Who was your favorite teacher? Was it hard? You better not tell me you made a boyfriend there."

I kept my description short. I didn't want to tell her about any of my discoveries. Peggy couldn't be trusted. I kept it simple and very superficial. I told her the classes were hard and the tests were even harder.

"How did you do?" she asked. "I remember not very long ago, you couldn't even take a test." I laughed with what she said, and she laughed with me.

"I must have done well enough, because they invited me to return there this fall."

"What about your eighth grade year? Don't they realize you will be in school?"

"They want to graduate me with a doctorate in science. They said they would help me focus on one which builds my strengths, in return, they want me to join their research team and help them."

"You, the girl who couldn't speak a few months ago? What happened Alora, who are you?"

I felt nervous. Had I already told Peggy too much?"

# Chapter 27

The cave-

When we put the boat back in the shed, Peggy noticed my luggage out there.

"I thought I remembered you taking that upstairs, and Mike yelling at you for it. What is it doing out here?" she asked.

"Alashia and Emma took over my room, so I came out here."

"They can't kick you out. Don't worry, there is room for you. Emma and Alashia can sleep together on the top bunk, and I will put you in the lower bunk."

"I thought foster kids were supposed to have their own rooms?" I reminded her.

"It's a technicality, dear. If they ever ask, tell them you do."

Peggy reached for my bag. "Let me help you in," she generously offered.

I grabbed the bag from her. "I am fine. I think I will sleep out here."

"Why would you want to do that?"

"Because it is nice out here."

"Where would you sleep?"

"On the cot."

"What cot?"

I looked at the cot next to the four-wheeler. Peggy parked the four-wheeler next to the cot every time she returned it.

"I didn't know we had a cot," she said.

She knew she did. She had woke me up on it many Sundays, but I wasn't about to argue it.

"Don't be silly, there is plenty of space in your room for the three of you."

"Please, I actually like it out here."

"Well, if you don't mind. This can be your room until you start back to school. Oh, I guess unless you go to Harvard, then it is your room until you leave. Don't tell Child Protective Services about it. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Come on, Taz," Peggy said as she left the storage shed.

"Can you leave her out here?" I asked.

Peggy bent down and baby talked Taz. "You wanna stay with Alora, huh, you want to stay outside?" Peggy let Taz give her a sloppy kiss on the lips.

After Peggy left, I realized I was hungry again. I took one of the fish I had caught, and instead of heating it on the electric grill, I added heat to it from my Zen. Within seconds, it was hot and ready to eat. I put it on my homemade plate and had a nice meal.

As I lay on my cot, I was glad for the choice I had made. The family still had problems, but I hadn't necessarily returned for them. I had returned for Mantua. I had returned for the nightly fishing trips. I had returned for the nature and outdoors. I was kind of glad the girls had taken my room. I liked being out in the shed so much better than their toxically dirty house.

The next morning, because I had been so tired, I had slept in. I went into the house and found I had missed breakfast. I looked around and found a half-eaten pancake on somebody's plate. I took the plate and pancake out to the shed. With my Zen, I turned it into scrambled eggs, ham, and cheese. It was so good.

I tried to stick around the house seeing if anyone had missed me and wanted to talk with me. None of the kids had. They seemed so interested in fighting with each other, they really didn't acknowledge me. It wasn't until Tuesday when Cordon had heard about my camp. "You were gone for a whole month? No way, I don't believe you. You have been here this whole summer." -Another hurtful comment from a Sanibel. He hadn't even noticed I had been gone.

I joined the dinner battle as we pushed and prodded for a scoop or two of casserole. I guess because I was so angry, I fought hard and ended up with two full scoops on my plate.

At dinner, the floor was open for discussion. For the first time, I had something to talk about.

"I would like for the family to go camping," I said.

"Where?" asked Peggy. Had she really asked that?

"There is a camp ground right in Mantua," I said.

"That's news to me," she responded. The next fifteen minutes turned into a debate between the family if there really was a campground there or not.

"I know for a fact there isn't one," Peggy stated abruptly.

"You willing to bet on it?" Cordon asked.

"Sure, what's the ante?"

"If I am right and there is one, then you take us camping next weekend," he said. Whoopee! He was on my team.

"And if I am right and there isn't one, you clean the house for a week," Peggy said.

"Deal," Cordon replied.

After dinner, the family decided to drive to the camp ground to see who the winner would be. Cordon and I won. I was so pumped we would be going camping!

That night, Peggy and I went out on the boat. We didn't catch much fish, and I talked very little. She had hurt me, and since I wasn't going to tell her about all the new stuff in my life, I really didn't have anything to talk about.

The next night when we went fishing, I decided I wanted to see how many fish I could catch. At summer camp, I had heard one of the boys talk about using trout roe as excellent bait. When Peggy wasn't looking, I used my Zen and changed my worm into trout roe. It didn't take long until I was reeling in a nice size rainbow trout. I made more roe and chummed the water with it -another trick I learned from the boy. I couldn't keep up with the fish. I kept pulling them in. Peggy caught three, but she was frustrated by my never ending success. She kept asking, "Are you sure you are using the same worms as me?"

Thursday at dinner, Peggy had made a great big pot of fish soup. The family adored her soup and they were madly diving into it. When it came my turn, I only got half of a cup. I watched as the greedy little mongrels snorted down my soup so fast, they didn't even have time to taste it. I say my soup, because it was my fish they were consuming. I regretted not keeping the fish for myself as I watched them pig it down. They didn't pause for breaths. Sloppy broth rolled down chins. They grunted and pushed as they defended their food from each other, reminding me of a pack of dogs. They disgusted me. Hungry, I used my Zen to expand the amount of soup in my bowl, giving me enough to eat.

...

Friday, pizza night was postponed to Saturday night in lieu of our camping trip. Besides the cot in the storage shed, the Sanibels didn't have a lick of camping equipment. Thankfully, they knew the whole town and they had been able to scrounge up enough gear for all fourteen of us, even Mike came, leaving his precious XBOX behind, alone in the house with no one to molest it for the night.

The campground host made us get three camp sites. Two were together, and the third was four spots over. I ended up being in the one four spots over. I shared it with Alashia, Emma, and Angela. When the tents were all set up, Peggy had us help her make Dutch oven chicken and rolls. She had never Dutch oven cooked before, having no idea what she was doing. I don't think she fired the briquettes long enough, because after she had spread them on the ovens, they barely stayed warm. Three hours later, the chicken was still pink inside. Her and Mike ended up in a big argument about how inept Peggy was. It was late, and I was starving. While they fought, I used my Zen and heated her three ovens.

"I think it's done," I said.

"There is no way it is done," Mike barked. "Your idiot mother didn't heat the briquettes long enough. Now we are all going to starve."

"I really think it's done," I tried again.

"It's not going to be done. Oh what are we going to do? I don't have any more briquettes," Mike whined like a baby.

"We could run to Burger King," Angela said, looking for an escape to civilization.

"Can I check it?" I asked.

"You're wasting your time," Mike said.

"I don't mind." I said as I went over and grabbed the lid. I really hadn't been thinking, for the heat seared into my hand, instantly burning it. I dropped the sizzling lid into the dirt and ran to the stream next to the tent to cool my hand in.

While I had my hand in the stream, the family noticed the chicken was fully cooked. Like ravenous vultures, they huddled around the ovens to take all the food. I knew my chance was lost. They would fill their plates and devour the food before I could get to the ovens. The aroma was heavenly and there was no way I was going to miss out. I had a plan. I had to stop them. Every time someone reached into an oven, I sent a volt of energy into them in the form of an electric shock.

"Ouch," Peggy screamed as she dropped the black spoon in the dirt.

"What did you do that for?" Mike growled. "Now we can't use the spoon."

"Ouch!"

"Ooohh!"

"Oweeeiie!!" others screeched as they were zapped. They kept trying for the food, but reacted upon the painful stimulant. After several shocks, the family backed away from the food, eying it like it was demonic.

When my hand had cooled, I walked over to the table and grabbed a plate. Everyone watched me as I made my way over. And for the first time among the Sanibels, they parted to let me at the food. All were watching, waiting to see me electrocuted. I reached in with my spoon and took three huge towering scoopfuls, plopping them on my plate. I then sat down in a camping chair. Everyone watched in silent amazement, wondering how it was I didn't get shocked.

Traydon decided to brave it again. He ever so carefully reached into the dish and grabbed the spoon. Nothing happened. He carefully scooped out some food. Nothing. Since he had no competition, he too took three huge spoonfuls and came and sat by me. He smiled at me, as if we were in a class of our own, a class untouchable. Within seconds, when the rest of the family found the danger of electrocution was gone, they were back pushing and fighting to fill their own plates.

Mike tried to build a fire for us to gather around. He was horrible at it. No one had brought lighter fluid, and every time he got a small flame under the wood, it went out. I didn't know anything about constructing fires, but I was sure there had to be a better way. I was weary of watching him struggle, so I sent a little heated energy at the wood and it went up in flames. Mike, proud of his fire starting-skills, danced around the fire, hollering loudly. His enthusiasm was catchy and got the family going. Before anyone knew it, all fourteen of us were wildly dancing around the fire. We sang, chanted, and let go of our inhibitions. That night will always be one of my favorite memories.

After our dancing died down, Cordon and Angela brought out the guitars and we all sang songs around the camp fire. I noticed the aura connecting us was violet, flowing in a wave around and above us, uniting us all together. The energy field was strong as it radiate in and out of us. I never wanted to leave.

...

The next night was Pizza Saturday. I swear, every child living in Mantua was there. We helped Peggy make six pizzas. There was no way everyone was going to get a chance to eat. The home filled with the savory aroma of baked cheese and tomato sauce. I was salivating as I waited for the last two to finish cooking. I wondered if I was going to be lucky enough to get a slice.

"Now, no one take a piece until I give the okay," Peggy said as she pulled the last pizzas out of the oven and brought them into the dining room. "You gotta be quick, because I am sure there ain't enough to go around, and I ain't buying or making more."

We hovered around the tables. Already, there was pushing and shoving as we waited for the go ahead to fight to the pizza death. Somehow, I found myself getting pushed farther and farther away from the pizzas. "Now, I am going to take a piece and the moment I step over this line," she said pointing to a part of the floor where there was a large dried paint spill. "When I step over, it is everyman for their self."

Peggy went to the pizzas and grabbed four slices; four! Mike quickly broke through the crowd and stood by Peggy.

"Hey," the kids screamed. "Mom didn't step over the line yet."

"My money bought this, so I get free reign." He scooped up the rest of the pieces from the pizza Peggy had dipped from. Now there were only five pizzas left. My stomach screamed at me to do something. Peggy stood there taunting us, acting as if she never planned to cross over the line. The anxious energy among us was thick, the group aura was brown. I had an idea.

With my Zen, I collected the anxious energy and catapulted it down the hall, into the family room and up the stairs. On the top of the stairs, there had been a bowling ball which had been hanging out there all week. I am not sure why there was a bowling ball there, but we had to step over it every time we went downstairs. I took the energy and slammed it into the ball. The ball barreled down the stairs, creating a bang, sounding like the stairs were getting ripped apart. Then a split second before the noise stopped, there was a crash of glass. The pizza was forgotten by most as they ran into the family room to see the cause of the noise. I stayed behind and grabbed three slices of pizza. I wasn't the only one who did. Three other kids were wise and grabbed pizza while they had the chance. I heard Peggy scream in the other room and start crying about her smashed TV. I could hear Mike yelling at the kids, demanding to know which kid had left a bowling ball at the top of the stairs. With great satisfaction, I took my pizzas and went out the back door to my storage shed.

...

"Time to get up and get ready for church," Peggy said, shaking me in my cot.

Sleepily, I peered at her. I wasn't ready to wake up yet. "Hey, doesn't your religion believe in free agency?" I asked.

"Of course we do," she said.

"Well, then don't I have the agency to skip church?"

"Sure you do, but free agency doesn't mean you can skip out on consequences.'

"What do you mean?"

"Well, let's say you want to steal a candy bar from the store. You have the free agency to do it. But, when they haul you to jail, you don't have the agency to escape the punishment. Does that make sense?"

"So what is the punishment if I don't go to church?" I asked.

"Oh, I wouldn't think of punishing anyone for not going to church."

"So, you don't mind if I don't go?"

"I don't mind at all, for you have free agency," Peggy said.

"Good," I said rolling away from her. "Cause, I think I am going to stay home today."

"That is fine, but don't bother coming to family dinner tonight. Those who skip church miss dinner." As she was walking out the shed, she must have spotted the boat. "Oh yeah, and those who don't go to church, don't get to go out on the boat."

When it came time for church, I was ready to go with the rest of the Sanibels. I guess I was glad I did, because I learned some good stories about service. At one point, I even almost cried.

That night, Peggy was particularly sour when she realized she couldn't watch her Sunday night program. No one had cleaned up the shattered TV. It laid sprawled across the family room with shattered fragments everywhere. I noticed when the bowling ball had rolled down the stairs it must have crashed through the wooden banister directly above the TV. Because Peggy had nothing else to do, she went to bed early. I felt a bit ripped off, because she didn't take me out on the boat. I went to church so she would take me and she didn't. I should have skipped it.

I wanted to be bitter about going to church, but I didn't get overly upset. I had actually liked what they talked about. They taught about serving others like Jesus served us. I would look for ways to serve others.

The next night, the family decided to go to Brigham City and get a _Busy Bee Snow Cone_. I heard they were really good, but I wasn't in the mood to go. The family had gotten on my nerves and, I wanted some alone time.

Alone, I rested on the couch. As I relaxed, my hand throbbed where I had burnt it with the Dutch oven on Saturday. I noticed it was inflamed with a big blister on it.

If I could control energy and matter, why couldn't I heal myself? I had healed the toddler. I sent my Zen to my hand and watched as the skin renewed itself. My flesh returned to a soft pink. I jumped-up hyper. I had done it, I had healed myself! Imagine the good I could do for the world. I could become a doctor and heal whoever came into my clinic. I would charge a very small fee, thus allowing my services to everyone. I was so excited. I went to run into the bathroom, when my foot got caught under a shoe, and I tripped into a pile of dirty rags mildewing in the family room. The black growth from them had moved into the rug. It made me sick, but it gave me an idea.

They had talked about service in church. I had wanted to do some type of service. Now was my chance. What better service could I offer than to clean the Sanibel's pigsty home? I remembered I had vowed I would never clean it again, but this time, I would use my Zen to clean.

The first thing I did was gather the energy around me, compacting it tight together, then, with great force, I released it. I traveled around the house with my Zen. Trash disappeared, clothes became clean, crisp, and hung in closets. Dressers were fixed and lined with socks and underwear. I took all the stains out of the carpets and fixed the multiple holes in the walls. I brightened up the paint. On the couch and recliner, I made the material new and clean. In the kitchen, all the dishes were washed and stacked in their respected shelves and drawers. I was impressed by my work. I had even fixed the TV. The whole house looked like it had a major makeover. It didn't even look like the same pigsty from an hour before.

As I sat on the couch admiring my handy work, I looked at the TV. "Why did I fix that?" I wondered. I carried it out to the outside trash and threw it away. Peggy would be better off without it around to distract her.

I was still outside when the Van pulled up. I stayed to the side of the house until the family had gone inside. Falling in line, I walked into the house with them. I didn't want them to know it had been me who had fixed it up. I hoped they hadn't realized I hadn't gone with them earlier. And I was right. No one had noticed I hadn't been there.

As the family went in the house, I heard all the oohs and aahs.

"What happened in here?" Peggy exclaimed.

"Everything is new!" Angela said.

"Oh my heck, the walls are fixed." Mike shouted. "I could kiss who ever fixed the walls. I had been meaning to do that."

"Mercy, mercy, mercy me!"

Everyone walked from room to room in utter shock. All the auras were light green. I loved their reaction as they tried to decide how their house had gotten so clean and repaired. Some guessed church members, some guessed friends or family. Some guessed miracles. No one guessed me.

Before we went to bed, I said. "Hey, I have a suggestion. This is the best I have ever seen your house."

"This is the best I have ever seen my house," Peggy said.

"Why don't we _All_ try to keep it that way? Other families do. Why don't we, for instances, put garbage in the trash cans instead of the floor? Why don't we wash our own dishes after we use them? Why don't we do what we can to keep this place nice?"

Everyone happily agreed. I believe it was because they all enjoyed the calming energy coming from the clean house.

...

The next day was a long, boring summer day with nothing happening. I lazed around the house, seriously under stimulated. I had spent my time at Harvard with every second of my time accounted for. Now, I had nothing going on. I wasn't complaining. It was a nice break, but it still made me restless. Peggy didn't take us out on the boat that night. I think she was still loathing about having her TV gone.

Wednesday, I woke bright and early. I had a plan. I wanted to go exploring. I had lots of maps in my head of the mountain terrain. Despite my bad experience before, I hitched hiked to Logan Canyon. It took some doing, but I was able to get the driver to drop me off in the middle of the canyon. It had been a really nice old woman who was on her way to Bear Lake.

"I don't feel good about leaving a kid alone in the canyon. What if something bad happens to you? I would never forgive myself," she said when I had her pull over on a shoulder next to a trail.

"Remember, I told you my uncle has a cabin up the mountain from here."

The old lady looked at the high peak. "It looks too rocky for a cabin."

I pointed to a small dirt trail. "Oh, but he does. He's been sick, and I am going to take care of him," I lied.

"How does he get things to his cabin on that small trail? Like furniture, for instance?"

"Oh, there is a small service road that comes from the other side of the mountain that leads to the cabin, but it is really far from here. I go the way of the trail because it is much faster and closer."

She looked like she accepted the idea a little more, but then she said, "I don't feel good about this."

"I'll be fine," I said, as I climbed out. "And I promise you, my uncle will thank you for this." I hurried and closed the door before she could protest anymore. I quickly bounded up the small dirt trail. She sat in her car watching me until I was out of sight.

The reason I had come out, was because I wanted to explore my abilities more. I knew I would find a nice, safe place up in the mountains. I had studied the topography maps in my head, and I knew where a cave was.

The side of the mountain had been way steeper than I had anticipated. To my knowledge, I had never climbed a mountain before, and I was way more inexperienced than I had expected. The steeper things got, the harder it became. My feet slipped often, and I kept scrapping open my hands. I would heal them with my Zen, and turn around and it do it again. I soon came to an edge where I had to reach high and over to grab a protruding rock. I held to it and proceeded to pull my body up. Only halfway over the rock's lip, I found myself stuck. I was in such a position I could not go up and I couldn't go down-but I was stuck- my arms were the only thing keeping me there. As I held on for my life, my arms tired soon, burning as I tried to keep myself in place. They ached and screamed at me, and my fingers started to slip. I tried to reposition my hands, but that was foolish. I lost my hold and I fell. My hip banged into a boulder, then I went straight down, with no rocks to stop me or to crash into. I could tell I was about a hundred feet off the next ledge of rocks as my body somersaulted down the mountain. As I rushed downward, dread filled me. I suddenly remembered how I had made Nathan fly. I grabbed the energy field around me and lifted my body up in the air. A couple of bushes from the ground scratched me as I rose above them. I had almost collided into the bush, but I hadn't! My Zen had saved me. I couldn't believe it! I hadn't crashed. I had saved my life, and I had learned to fly!

Flying wasn't like I had imagined. I had always thought if one could fly, then they would will themselves to do it. But that wasn't how it worked. I was flying by the collection and movement of energy around me. It took constant vigilance to make sure the energy was always there. When I would get tranquil and distracted, the momentum would disappear, and I would begin to plummet down. Besides the work it took to keep me in the air, it was the most amazing experience, to be able to fly above the ground, to feel the wind rush through my hair. I felt a freedom as the laws of gravity seemed to disappear. The weight of my body withdrew as I moved around in midair. It sort of reminded me of moving underwater. It was something I wished everyone could have the chance to try.

I spent the next few hours mastering and perfecting the gift of flight. When I felt pretty confident of my skills, I decided to go to the cave like I had originally been planning to. It was probably a good thing I had learned to fly, because there was no way I would have been able to make it to the cave otherwise. The mountain was too rugged and steep for my skills. I flew myself to the cave and went in.

It was really dark inside. I gathered the bands of light from outside and brought them in, illuminating the cavern. I was a bit disappointed to find the cave wasn't very deep. I had read a story back at ACYI about a girl who took a great adventure in a cave. She had explored many caverns, each one more glorious than the next, but in my cave, there were only three rooms.

For the longest time, I had wanted my own space, a place I could call my own. I guess in a way, I already had it out in the shed, but I wanted a place I could experiment in, and in the shed, I couldn't do that. There was too much of the threat someone would walk in. I figured between the plants, the soil, the rocks, and the air, I had all the elements on the mountain to do whatever I wanted.

With my Zen, I dissolved bonds, and recreated bonds, and restructured molecular elements. I became the master of the atoms around me. I decided to make me a bedroom in the first room. I took some of the rock from the cave wall, and brought it out and up, creating a rock-bed. I was so a fluttered at what I had done. I looked at the cold, hard bed. It would need a blanket. I ripped a small strip off my shirt then with my Zen categorized the base elements within it, and took from the elements around to make a simple blanket for the bed.

I went into the next cavern and created a living space. I reshaped some of the rocks in the cave and made two couches in there. They were hard, rock couches, but they were so awesome looking with their marbled rock design.

In the last room, I created a dining table out of rock.

If someone had been watching me, they would have thought I had magic. I had seen several movies about witches who could do anything with magic. I knew all those shows were fantasy, but if they weren't, maybe magic meant the power to control the atoms and molecules and create them in to things. If one could believe in magic, then surely they could believe in my abilities to form molecules into whatever I desired. I did not use some unknown, mystical force, but I used math and science. For me, it really was pretty simple. I was sure glad I had taken the time to learn all the molecular structures of things back at Harvard.

Finally, my cave was completed. I decided to refer to it as my castle. I went from room to room pretending I was a princess. I had servants and animals. It was so much fun getting lost in my fantasy. As the evening approached, I realized how far I was from home. I probably needed to start making my way there. As I left the cave, I realized I had played. I was being a kid! Rapture filled my soul. It felt good to know I was doing what normal kids did.

I went to an open space outside of the cave. I practiced creating fire, when I heard some birds up in the trees. Listening to them made me wonder if I could make something living. I gathered the elements together from all around me, and I formed them into a small bird. I was stunned at how real the bird looked. Had I really done that? It was beautiful without blemish, every feather perfect. I turned it over and over in my hand, but there was no life to it. It was more like a toy than something living. I might be able to manipulate elements, but I didn't know how to create life.

# Chapter 28

The life or death-

I flew down to the side of the road. I was pretty sure no one had seen fly, since no cars were around. As a group of cars approached, I put my thumb out, and in twenty minutes a car pulled over. It was a lone man. His aura was mustard yellow. Something inside me screamed, _run!_

Without waiting to hear what he had to say, I turned and ran from him. There wasn't anywhere for me to go, except up the steep mountain side, or to fly. I didn't want him to see me fly, so I climbed up. He screamed at me to stop, and I heard him come out of his car, and followed me up the mountain. I wished I had listened to Mandy and not hitch-hiked. Twigs and branches snapped as he gained on me. My head felt light, and I really needed to pee. I could hear him breathe for he was almost directly behind me. Having him so close made my hair stand up as I shook. He was dangerously close to capturing me. I didn't care what he saw, I had to get away. I picked myself up and flew around and over the trees. He stood behind watching me until I vanished from view.

I had learned my lesson. I would never hitch-hike again! I decided to fly the rest of the way home. Since it was dark, I was pretty sure I wouldn't be seen. It got cold, and I formed my shirt into a jacket, but it didn't help much. I excited the energy around me and created heat which kept me warm all the way home. I don't know how late it was when I got back, but I went straight to the shed and to my cot.

...

The next morning Peggy was anxiously waking me up.

"KRL news is here!" she said. "And they want to do a story on you!"

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. "Why do they want to do a story on me?" I asked. I could feel my muscles ache from the hiking I had done.

"Because they found out about your Doctorate you are getting at Harvard."

"Did you tell them?" I asked.

"No, I promise I didn't."

I guessed they must have heard about it from someone at church. Peggy had bragged to everyone about my Harvard opportunity. I don't think she was proud of me. I think she liked the bragging rights of being my foster mom. She would tell everyone how I could neither talk nor read. But, after staying with the Sanibels, I had become a genius.

Trying to figure out how the news knew, I picked out one of my best outfits out of the suitcase. It was a small business suit designed for teens. It made me look sophisticated and hip. I wasn't sure what to do with my hair. I looked out into the yard and found two people from the film crew bustling about. I didn't want to look stupid as I made my way into the house with undone hair. I took the fibers in my hair and made them go straight and smooth. I looked at my spindly arms. I hadn't cared for how skinny I was. Living with the Sanibels hadn't added any meat to my frame. I decided to bring a little definition to my body. I hypertrophied my muscles, making them bigger and added a little fat to my hips. I caused the door to become reflective as I looked at myself. Still not satisfied, I infused dark highlights in my golden white hair. I smiled big at my image. I liked the new way I looked.

With my improved appearance, I went into the house through the side door. It was a bit messy, but it was still relatively clean from Monday. I was so glad I had fixed up their house. I would have been humiliated if the news crew had come into their house when it had been trashed.

When I walked into the family room, the news anchor stood up and with her hands stretched out, she ran to me and shook my hand. Her hands were sweaty and I wanted mine back.

"Hi, I am Karen Pieffer from KRL news. We heard about your admission to Harvard and we wanted to do a news story on you. Is that alright, Alora?" She said still shaking my hand up and down.

"Sure," I said.

"Is that still alright with you, Mrs. Sanibel? We talked to your husband on the phone last night and set everything up." I looked over at Peggy. She was staring at me. I think she could tell I looked different, but she couldn't place it. "Is Mike Sanibel here?"

"He's at work, and he didn't mention this to me."

"Is that alright with you?" Karen asked again. "We already got written permission from Child Protective Services. We need yours." she said.

Peggy snapped out of her trance. "What do I get out of it?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" Karen asked, squinting her brow.

"What do I get if I let Alora on your news show?"

"Well, you get to share with Utah what a wonderful daughter you have."

"But, you are not going to pay me anything for it?"

"That's not how we do it. We don't generally pay to put someone on the news. Most people are eager to be on it for free."

"I see, so you make a profit off my daughter's expense, and we make nothing." -Peggy, always looking out for herself.

"Stop it, Mom," Angela said in embarrassment.

"Stay out of this, Angela," Peggy said. She turned back to Karen. "I know you can't put Alora on without my consent. I will only give it, if you give me something for it."

Karen's producer stepped forward. He was holding two fifty dollar gift cards to Olive Garden. "How about some nice gift certificates for dinner," he said.

Peggy thought about it for a moment. "Fine, but I want to be on it with her."

"Great," they both responded, happy to have gotten her permission.

I was given a quick briefing, while the film crew rearranged the room.

"I really like it outside. Can we do it with the reservoir behind me?" I asked.

"Yes, that sounds like a great shot," the producer said. "Everyone, outside."

We followed the camera crew outside. They pulled chairs out of their van, and within seconds, they had a set put together. They put us directly in front of the reservoir, and they had Karen sitting across from us, to our left sides.

"Remember, this is live," she reminded us. "Don't be scared, Alora, you will do great."

The cameraman counted down, and before I could breathe, we were on live TV. It was then I remembered I hadn't used the bathroom yet.

"This is Karen Pieffer with KRL news. I am here today with Alora Funk, who has quite a story. Alora is thirteen years old, and if you will remember, we brought you the exclusive story how she had been found captive in a cement room earlier in March. We have been watching this story, to keep you, the viewers informed. I believe you will all be relieved to learn Alora has found a loving home with a beautiful family, and she has been well cared for. But what makes this story amazing, is Alora is not like most thirteen year olds girls. She is exceptionally brilliant, and while other girls her age spent their summer waterskiing and chasing boys, Alora was at an exclusive summer camp at Harvard University.

"We have a conference call right now with Dr. Van Hassel, the director of the science program at Harvard. Hello, Dr. Van Hassel." I couldn't see him, but I could hear him in my earpiece.

"Hello, Ms. Karen Pieffer."

"Doctor, how did you find out about Alora's exceptional gifts in the sciences?"

"I had been given a tip by a well trusted source." By that, he meant Ms. LeAnn.

"I heard you personally flew to Mantua to meet this starlet and invite her back to your elite summer camp."

"Indeed I did."

"Is it true you get over a thousand applicants a year for this camp, and you only accept twenty?"

"That is true."

"And is it true Alora hadn't even applied to this camp? That you flew all the way out here and begged her to follow you back?" Karen looked so natural at what she did. How was it she wasn't scared with the camera constantly on her? Her aura was blue-violet, one of confidence. Peggy's was light pink, I don't remember seeing hers that color before, she was pretty giddy sitting there, the mother of a genius. My aura was ice blue since I was so scared. I could hardly concentrate as the need to use the bathroom was overpowering.

"Now Karen, don't put words into my mouth. I did not beg, nor would I ever beg. I opened the opportunity for this child, and she accepted it," I heard Dr. Van Hassel say in my earpiece.

"I heard she had a private sponsor who paid for her airfare, her admission to the program, her wardrobe, and other expenses in the amount of eighteen thousand twenty two dollars."

"Karen, I don't believe you dragged me to this phone interview to talk about the expenses, did you?"

"Let's talk about Alora's performance at the school." Karen responded.

"-Stalwart!"

"Were you disappointed by your decision to make a spot for her?"

"I never regretted it. She was the best student we have ever had in our program." I could hear the pride in Dr. Van Hassel's voice. I beamed at his compliments.

"And is it true your university is willing to give her a Doctorate right now?"

"We will not _GIVE_ her a doctorate! She will earn it."

"What are your plans for her?"

"She is brilliant and we intend to assist her in adding knowledge to her skill set. After she graduates, we are prepared to offer her a position on our faculty to help aid us in our research and development programs. Ms. Alora Funk has a promising future, and we want to hold her hand every step of the way."

"Thank you Dr. Van Hassel."

"And thank you, Karen Pieffer."

"Let us turn to Alora. This must all come as a big shock to you. You didn't know who you were back in March. You didn't even know how to speak. What changed? How did you find this intellectually brilliant side of yourself?"

I didn't know how to answer her. I wanted to crawl back into my cocoon. I didn't know how I had found my intellect. It had slowly appeared, but it felt familiar as if I already knew how to use it. Karen looked uncomfortable by my lack of response, so I shrugged. Peggy didn't miss a minute to fluff her own feathers.

"She found her intellect because our family took her in and we used every opportunity we had to tutor her and educate her."

"So you are saying because of your influence, Alora has become a child protégée?"

I tried to keep from wiggling in my chair, because I had to go the bathroom so bad. My bladder expanded, threatening to pop right there on live TV. The pressure was all encompassing.

"Darn straight," Peggy gloated.

Karen turned back to me. "Will you keep us informed on your journey at Harvard? Can we come and visit you out there?"

"Sure," I said. I could feel my face flush.

Thank you, Sanibel's, thank you Alora. This is Karen Pieffer from KRL news doing an exclusive interview with Alora Funk. I turn the time back to you, Grant."

...

Within minutes, the news crew was gone. I was left feeling weird. I couldn't imagine all the people sitting around in their homes watching me on TV. It didn't seem natural.

As we walked back into the house, Peggy turned to me. "You look different today," she observed.

"Hmm, I am not sure why," I responded.

"Well, whatever you did, it looks good."

I ran to the bathroom. When I was done, I looked at myself in the mirror. I liked the fuller face. I had always looked so thin and sickly, even my darker highlights was a big improvement. Before, my hair had been so blond I always thought it looked white, like an old ladies. The highlights made me feel more normal. The reformations I made suited me well. When I was done gazing at myself, I joined everyone for our fast-paced breakfast. When breakfast was over, I was very antsy to get back to my cave; my castle.

As I walked to the highway, I could feel a burst of negative energy. My hair stood on end, and I knew something was wrong. I looked around until I saw a stray dog rushing toward me. It was a huge Rottweiler, and it was snarling as he came straight at me. Full of fear, I turned and ran. As I did, the Rottweiler began barking and ran faster toward me. I couldn't think as it reached my side. Foolishly, I tried to push it away. Its sharp teeth sunk into my skin. The pain exploded in me, coupled with even more fear. I could hardly breathe as I tried to free my arm from its teeth. I could feel the hot saliva soak my skin. I had to do something. I decided to channel my fear to my Zen. When I did, I sent it at the dog- everything I had- and the dog shot through the sky. I had hit it with a deadly force. Its body limply dropped to the ground, all signs of life gone. Fearful at what I might have done, I cautiously went to the supine dog on the ground. I didn't want to get too close, because I knew it was vicious. I looked around until I found a long stick, gently poking the stick into its side. Nothing happened. Its aura had changed from mustard yellow to grey. I poked a little harder. Still no reaction. I shoved the stick hard into its side. Nothing. I looked at its chest to see if it was breathing. There was no movement. I was sick when I realized I had killed the dog.

I dropped to the dog's side and wrapped my body over its. I bawled to the horrible thing I had done. I was only trying to protect myself, I never meant to kill it. With my Zen, I had taken life. I was disgusted with myself.

"Please come back to life, please," I begged, shaking it. Horror and dread filled me.

As I cried, I had an idea. If I killed the dog with my Zen, then maybe I could bring it back to life with my Zen. With that thought, I filled the dog with positive energy, hoping to bring it back to life. Nothing. I gathered the largest amount of energy I ever had and shot it into the dog. Its body flew two feet, but still no signs of life.

I again draped my body over the Rottweiler and howled in sorrow. I had never meant to kill it. As I cried, I could hear a car coming around the corner. I quickly stood up and hid behind a hedge. I didn't want to get in trouble for killing a dog. To my terror, the car noticed the dead dog and stopped. I crawled along the hedge, trying not to be seen, until I was around the corner and out of sight. Then I ran.

I was so disturbed. I had to get to the cave and figure things out. Even though I knew how to fly, I didn't dare do it in the daylight. So, again, I took my chances on hitch-hiking, being more careful as to who I held my thumb out to. I found a ride with a young adult.

She was on her way to USU and took me to the top of the parking lot. Logan Canyon was up the street. It took over an hour to find another ride, but I was able to grab a spot up the canyon with a group of college students. They didn't care one bit about dropping off a young girl in the middle of a canyon. Once they pulled away, I hiked up through the thick mountainside, then when I was sure I was out sight from the road, I picked up the energy around me and flew to my castle cave.

When I got there, I landed, and instead of going inside, I sat outside the cave in meditation. A small flame of fire radiated next to me. I had generated fire and for a moment, it was hovering above my hand, until it burned it, so I created the fire a ways in front of me. I experimented with making it get bigger, then smaller. I even tried to make it burn without the intense heat. As I practiced with fire, I thought of the time back in the study group when everyone was choosing what super power they wished for. Nathan said he wanted to fly. Steve picked the ability to control fire. What would they think if they both could see me now? I could fly and control fire!

My hand throbbed, and my thoughts returned to the dog I had murdered. I was sick. My hand was swelling and getting really sore from where the dog had bitten it. I thought about healing it, but then I decided I didn't deserve to heal my hand. I had killed a dog. The bite was my punishment. I didn't want to get sick from bacteria, so I used my Zen to clean out the cut, but I left it to heal naturally.

After spending most of the day on the mountain, it got dark, and I flew home. I hadn't even gone into the cave.

...

It was pizza Friday. I didn't go to my castle-cave. I realized summer was almost over, and I would be leaving to Harvard soon. It wore me out to think about returning, for the work load had been so intense. I wasn't sure I was ready for that yet. I lounged around the home and joined the Sanibel's in their laziness. It felt good to do nothing and not think about molecules and other scientific things. I watched a teen movie with the others and tried to be a kid that day. In the evening, the house was packed with neighborhood kids. My stomach growled as I smelt the pizzas cooking. I looked at all the other watering mouths, and I realized there was some steep competition there. There was no way six pizzas were going to be enough to feed the hungry crowd, six rarely ever was enough. As Peggy pulled the last two pizzas out of the oven, I had an idea. I gathered the pizza molecules, and added them to the molecules all around us. With them, I created more pizza.

Peggy started shutting the oven door after she took the last pizza out.

"Wait Mom, there is another pizza in there," Angela said. She had noticed it first.

"There is not. I got all of them out."

Angela reached past her mom and pulled open the oven door. "No really, Mom, it looks like you missed one." Angela reached in to grab it. She had forgotten it was a hot oven. As soon as her hand touched the scorching pan, she screamed out in pain.

"You twit, you need a hot pad," Peggy said as she reached in to the oven with the hot pad on her hand. She didn't even take time to comfort Angela for her burn. I looked at Angela's hand and noticed a large blister in the middle of her palm. She was moaning in pain.

Peggy pulled out the pizza and as she was shutting the door, a neighbor kid yelled, "Hey, it looks like there is still another pizza in there." Angela ran to the sink and put her hand under the tap. She was crying, and no one was attending her.

Peggy dashed the seventh pizza into the dining room with strict instructions no one was allowed to dive into it yet. She came back into the kitchen, opened the oven door, and sure enough, there was another pizza in it.

"There is no way this is happening," she said. "I only made six pizzas, and we already have eight pizzas. I only made six pizzas, right?" she asked us.

"Apparently you made more than that," Cordon said.

Peggy pulled the pizza out. "There's another," Elizabeth said, squealing in delight. There was a crowd gathered around the 'magical' oven. Peggy took the pizza to the dining room and came back to get pizza number nine. "That has to be the last one," she said as she pulled it out.

"There's another one!" everyone yelled. There was intense excitement around the oven. Angela had wrapped her hand in ice and forgot about her pain as she watched the pizzas being pulled out.

"Mercy me," Peggy said as she took the pizza to the dining room table. She returned and grabbed the tenth pizza. "Are there any more?" she asked.

"The oven looks empty now," Cordon said.

"Well, I sure don't know how to explain what happened," she said as we all followed her back to the dining room. She put the tenth pizza on the table where she sliced them into pieces, and without giving any more thought to the mysterious pizzas, she said, "Dig in!"

It was great. There ended up be enough pizza where everyone got at least two slices, if not more. I was proud with my contribution to dinner. Later, I saw Angela sitting on the stairs silently crying. She was holding her burnt hand. Peggy had done nothing to help her with the burn. I sat on the couch and looked up to Angela. With my Zen, I took the skin tissue in her hand and healed it. She watched as the blister disappeared along with the redness and swelling. I could tell the pain had subsided as her face relaxed.

"Mom, mom, my hand healed," she called in delight as she ran to the side of Peggy's recliner.

"I told you were fine," Peggy said, barely glancing up.

"No, I wasn't fine. I had a huge blister, and it hurt so bad. But, as I was sitting there, I watched as it healed itself."

"Like I said, I knew you would be fine."

"Ugh, you don't get it," Angela said as she spun away from her mom. She looked over at me. I pretended I wasn't paying attention.

"Something weird is going on here. First our house fixes itself. Our oven makes extra pizzas, and my hand heals itself. Something weird is going on," she said as she went up the stairs.

# Chapter 29

The idea-

Peggy was in good spirits, and we found ourselves out on the reservoir. This time she didn't wait for her hour of silent time before she talked.

"What a week this has been. Our fortunes are looking good. I can't explain everything that has happened. It is as if there is some magical being in our home."

I wouldn't look at her. I wondered if she was trying to get me to give myself away. I put the fat worm on my hook as its goo squirted under my nails.

Peggy said, "I mean, on Monday, the house was mysteriously cleaned and fixed while we went to _Busy Bee_. The whole church must have been involved with that, because, that was a month's worth of work done in a short hour or two. And then there was the TV crew coming to our house and putting me on TV. And then tonight, the pizzas. How does one explain the pizzas? I know I didn't accidently make four extra pizzas, and even if I had, they all wouldn't have fit into the oven like they did."

I cast my line out.

"I sure am going to miss you when you go away," she said. I didn't know if I believed her, because she had already withdrew herself from my life once. I wasn't ready to let her sweet talk her way into my heart again, but then she did something I wasn't expecting. She reached over and gave me a big hug. Her face was wet with tears.

"Thanks for coming to live with us, even if it was for a short time."

...

The next morning, I awoke with a strange vibration in my head. It radiated down my jaw bone and into my teeth. It was driving me crazy. I shook my head and ran around the house, trying to get it to stop. When it kept going, I dunked my head in the tub. I tried everything I could, but I couldn't get it to stop.

Later, Peggy took us to the store in Brigham City to pick out school supplies. I could hardly focus on what I needed since the vibration was still going so strong in my head. It seemed to start in my skull and travel through all my bones. It was driving me crazy. I tried to ignore it while I was looking at folders with Angela. As I did, I could hear a conversation on the other side of the isle. It was between a man and a woman. Their voices were _very familiar_. As I listened, I suddenly realized they had been speaking in Russian the whole time, and I had understood everything they were saying, what was more, I realized I recognized their voices!

Since my liberation, I hadn't had too many sure moments in my life, but I was sure beyond a shadow of a doubt the voices I heard belonged to Vyacheslav and Nadezhda; my Russian captures. Hearing them scared me. I thought they had been taken to jail. What were they doing here? In Brigham? I was tempted to peak around the isle and look at them, but I didn't want them to see me. They would recognize me before I would recognize them. In a panic, I ran from the aisle, leaving Angela behind.

"Where are you going, Alora?" she called rather loudly behind me.

"Shhh," I said as I left the isle. I madly searched the store for Peggy. It took a long time to locate her. It wasn't hard running into one of the Sanibels because they seemed to be one of them in every aisle, since there was thirteen of us there, but for the life of me, it felt like I would never located Peggy. Finally after a desperate search, I found her in the cheese section.

"We need to go!" I said out of breath.

"Mercy me, Alora, slow down. What is going on?"

"They are here," I said panting out of breath.

"Who is here?" she said half listening to me.

"The Russians," I said back.

"That's nice," she said as she read the label on the cheese.

"You don't understand. These are the people who kept me in the cement room."

I had her attention. She dropped the cheese on the shelf and looked at me, her eyes filling with concern.

"Alora, the Russians who hurt you were put in jail."

"Maybe they were, but I guarantee they are here in this store, right now."

"Did you see them?" she asked. She looked frightened.

"No."

"Then how do you know they are here?"

"Because I heard them."

Peggy's face relaxed. "Honey, you probably heard someone speaking Russian and assumed it was them."

"No," I said strongly. "I heard them, and I know it was them. There is no mistake. It was them."

Peggy looked worried again. "What should we do, Alora?"

"We need to get out of here," I replied.

Peggy looked at her cart. It was overflowing. "I can't leave all these things. There is no way I am coming back tonight or Monday. No way, this shopping trip has already stolen an hour of my time."

"Well, I must go." My heart was pounding. The Russians could be anywhere in the store. It didn't help I had no idea what they looked like.

Peggy opened her mammoth purse and sorted through all her belongings. She seemed to take forever at her task. I was ready to run all the way back to Mantua if she didn't hurry. "Now where are those keys," she said.

"Will you hurry?" I desperately asked.

"Yes, yes, of course," she said as she continued to look for her keys. She didn't act at all like my life was at stake. I couldn't wait for her. Without saying anything, I ran to the exit.

"Hey Alora!" she called after me. Could she have said it any louder?

I carefully made my way through the store, trying to avoid any couple who was together. Once outside, I ran to the van. I looked around the parking lot to make sure there was no couple in sight. There were only families and teens. I looked at the van and sent my Zen into it and undid the lock. I liked doing that. Again, I looked around then ducked inside the vehicle. I locked the door and lay on the bottom of the van.

Peggy wasn't true to her word, because she was in the store for another hour. Didn't she care about my safety? When she and the kids finally returned, they banged on the door of the van.

"Alora, let us in," they screamed. What where they doing? If the Russian couple was around, then they would hear them. I quickly sat up and unlocked the doors. The family came pouring in with all their loudness. Peggy was left alone to load all the groceries and school supplies into the back of the van. I would have hopped out to help her, but I didn't want to be seen, so I stayed low to the ground while the bags of merchandise piled around me. Soon everyone was in, and we drove back home.

I didn't sleep in the shed, but on the floor of my old bedroom. I had a hard time sleeping, for I was sure the Russians had followed us home. Also, the vibration in my head made it hard to sleep.

The next day at church, I was taken aback by the celebrity status I had gained. Everyone came up and congratulated me on being on the news. It was so weird.

I tried to dismiss my fear about the Russians as I slept back in the shed. The vibration in my head never stopped. I had eventually fallen asleep when I was awoken to the mad barking of Taz. He was going crazy, trying to get out of the shed. It was past midnight and, I was in a daze, so I opened the shed door and Taz went barreling out. He ran to the door of the house and clawed and barked at it. It was evident he wanted to get into the house. I wondered if everyone was alright. Maybe there was a fire inside. I had heard a story at school how a dog had saved a family from a fire. I ran to the door to let Taz in. As I reached the door, I noticed a car parked to the side of the house. My heart stopped beating. Was there someone in the house? Suddenly clarity hit me as I thought about the Russian's from the store. They must have been the reason Taz was barking.

I slowly crawled under the windows and stole glances inside. When I got to the family room window, I could see the family gathered in the room with a couple I didn't know. They must have been the Russians. The Russians were in my home!

I almost became paralyzed by fear. I had no idea what to do. My logical mind seemed to shut down on me. What should I do? I could hear Taz tearing at the door, still wanting to be let in. I went over to the side door and let Taz in. I did not follow. If nothing else, maybe he would attack the intruders. I was so scared. Part of me wanted to run and disappear, the other part wanted to go inside and save my family. I knew going in to save them was foolish, for there was nothing I could do.

Looking around the yard for a place to hide, I couldn't find anything adequate. Finally, I ducked into a bush. That's when I heard a gunshot go off. My heart felt like it was going to rip out of my chest. I was sick. Who had they shot? Why would they shoot anyone? I no longer felt safe in the bush. I had to get out of there. I looked around for a better hiding spot. At first, I thought about taking cover in the van, but surely they would look in there. I almost decided I would take off in the van, but then I thought against it. What if the Sanibels needed to escape? I didn't want to take their only vehicle large enough to transport all of them in. Finally, I decided to take the Russians' car.

I ran to the car and found it locked. I reached my Zen in and unlocked the doors. Once inside, I sat in the driver's seat, and with my Zen, turned the engine on. I put the gear shift into drive like I had seen Peggy do. The car shot forward, and I found I had no control over it. Peggy had made driving look so easy, but it raced ahead and I couldn't steady or stop it. The tires skidded as I tried to use the breaks, but since the seat was so far back, I couldn't really touch the breaks. The car jerked up the street until it crashed it into a tree.

With smoke everywhere, I jumped out of the car, leaving it behind. I ran down the street until I got to the campground. I tried to hide besides someone's tent, but they had a dog inside and it barked at my presence. In fear, I ran out of the camp ground. I was so scared I didn't know what to do, or where to go.

I thought about flying to my castle-cave, but the night was pretty chilly, and I wasn't sure if I had it in me, because I was so frightened. I didn't want the Russians to get me and put me in a medical coma again. What if they put me in one, and I lost all of my knowledge I had been gaining and never got it back? I didn't want to lose my memories of the Sanibels and Mantua. There was no way I was going to let them catch me!

I finally decided to fly over to Mandy's house. It was so dark I wasn't worried about anyone seeing me fly. It was really late when I got there, and I was scared to wake her. I crawled onto her trampoline and waited the rest of the night out on it.

I must have fallen asleep after the sun had risen, because I woke up to Mandy standing over me. The vibration in my head kept going.

"Alora, what are you doing on my tramp? Does Peggy know you are here?"

"The Russians came to my house last night," I said. "They broke into it and shot someone. I don't know who, but I heard the gunshot."

"What are you talking about?" Mandy asked. She was still in her pajamas. The sun shone bright. I wondered what time it was. My clothes were slightly damp from the dew.

"The Russians, the ones who had kept me in the cement room. They found me and broke into our house last night."

"I thought they were in jail," Mandy sounded just like Peggy.

"Obviously, they are not," I said.

"Have you called the police?" Mandy asked. Her hands flew over her mouth as her eyes looked worried. Her aura was teal while mine was ice-blue.

"No, I didn't know what to do, so I came here."

"Why didn't you wake me?" Mandy asked. "How long have you been here?"

"Because I was afraid it was too late to knock on your door."

"That is foolish. You are welcome to knock on my door any hour of the night, especially if there is an emergency."

Mandy ran to her phone and called 911.

"Yes, this is Mandy Heart, and I have Alora Funk here with me...Yes, the one who was on the news...yes, that is her. She said her home was broken into last night, and the Russians had been keeping her in a cement room had broken in and hurt her family..... No, I don't think so, let me ask her. Alora, are you hurt?" I shook my head no. "No, she isn't. But you need to send someone over to her house right away."

...

Mandy called Child Protective Services and they came and picked me up. They drove me back to their office where I was put in the stale conference room which I despised. I was in there for most of the day. They brought in toys and teddy bears to appease me, and some lady sat with me the whole time, asking me a ton of questions. I was so tired. At some point, I fell asleep. When I woke up, my neck was stiff. The only nice thing, was the vibration in my head had stopped.

Finally, Mr. Cox came into the room.

"Well, Alora, that was pretty scary. We figured the Russians found you by your news program. No one had told us they had escaped jail last week. That would have been good to know."

"Oh, how stupid of me," I said. Why had I gone on the news?

"We need to get you some place safe. We can put you in the crisis nursery for a week or two while we find a good placement for you. We are thinking about sending you out of state."

Crisis Nursery! That was the last place I wanted to go. It had been a great place for me at first, but I felt I was too old to return there, besides, I was going to Harvard. "I will be going to Harvard next week. That is out of state."

"We are afraid to send you there, because the Russians will know exactly where to find you. You won't be closely watched at Harvard and it wouldn't be hard for them to apprehend you."

I had a hard time comprehending what was being said. Who were these Russians? Why weren't they in jail? Why did they want me? Who were they working for? Why must my life be stopped because of them? It was all too overwhelming. "What are you saying? I can't go to Harvard?" I desperately asked.

"At least not until the Russians are back behind bars."

"Did the police not catch them after we called 911?"

"No, by the time they got there, the Russians were long gone."

"Did they kill my family?" It was a hard question to ask. I feared what his answer would be.

"No."

"Well, who did they shoot?"

"They shot the dog."

"Taz!" I screamed as my hands went across my mouth, and I cried.

"Don't worry. They said it only hit his left hind leg. He didn't die."

I was relieved to hear no one was killed, and Taz was going to be alright.

"I really want to go to Harvard, because they are going to let me earn a Doctorate," I said. I didn't think it was fair the Russian's could stop me from going.

"If they were going to give it to you once, then they will give it to you again."

I put my head in my hands and sobbed. Every locked-up emotion poured out of me. My body began shaking to my sorrow. Dread and darkness filled my soul. My aura was grey.

I wanted to go to Harvard, and I didn't. I did want to feel safe. I didn't want to feel like I was being chased. Why couldn't the Russians leave me alone?

When I had slowed down, I turned to Mr. Cox. "I don't want to go back to the crisis nursery. I want to go home to the Sanibels."

"It is no longer safe for you or them to have you there."

I put my hands over my face and kept crying. After a few minutes, I sat up again. "Can I go back to the Petersons?"

"Alora, it would be best to place you out of state at this time."

"Okay, I understand, but can I go there at least until you find me an out of state home? I really don't want to go back to the crisis nursery."

"I will see," Mr. Cox said as he left me.

When he returned, he had a faint smile on his face. "It looks like you can stay with the Petersons until we can place you out of state. But, you must stay low. You can't go to the store, you can't go to the park, and you can't go to church. Since you now have been on the news a couple of times, people will know your face. You must stay low."

"Okay."

...

During the night, I laid in the Petersons' bedroom and bawled, deep depression spreading through me. I felt completely confused and lost, desperately wanting to be back with the Sanibels. I was glad for Harvard, because I knew I had a very rare opportunity there, but truthfully, I didn't want it. I just hated the problem with the Russian's dictating I couldn't go there. Besides, Harvard was going to force me to grow up way too soon. I just wanted to be a kid, to be like all the other kids I watched in school play together and have a good time. I didn't want to go to school with a bunch of adults. I wasn't ready for the massive time-restrictions Harvard would place on me. I wasn't sure if they would force me into another agenda, or if that was for summer camp. I wanted to be one of the twelve kids at the Sanibel's, without responsibilities or worries. It wasn't fair the Russians were taking that from me. Why couldn't the police throw them back in jail? Then, I could live my life the way I wanted to.

I stayed at the Peterson's for three weeks. It was the first week in September when Child Protective Services said they had found a placement for me. They apologized it was still going to take two more weeks to secure it. But, they promised I would be very safe.

My time with the Petersons was agonizingly slow and painful. Since I couldn't go anywhere, I sat inside all day. The Petersons would play card games and board games with me, but that got dull early on. One could only play so many card games. When I had gotten there, they had several stacks of teen books from the library for me. I tried to read a few of them, but they didn't hold my interest for very long. They were mushy, and I didn't care for them. I eventually asked if they could pick me up some textbooks. I spent the rest of my time there making mental references to everything I read. The vibration in my head had returned.

...

During the night on September third, I was awoken by an energy field. It was the Russians' energy field. Back at the Sanibels', I had become acquainted with the Russian's pattern of energy, the way it vibrated as I had watched them in the home. Once I knew it, I recognized I knew it well. All energy frequencies were unique. It was very familiar to me. On the third, I could feel them outside the Peterson's house. I could tell they were at the front door. I panicked. As I look back, I realized I should have used my Zen to reach out to a phone and call 911. But, I didn't think about it at the time. I was in almost in shock, and I couldn't think. I knew they would have a gun. So, instead of seeking help, I climbed out of the window and ran off leaving the Peterson's to fend for their selves. It was a coward thing to do.

The Peterson's didn't live too far from my friend London. Keeping to the shadows, I made my way by foot to her house. Remembering Mandy's advice about walking in during an emergency, I thought London might feel the same, so I tried London's front door. It was locked. I used my Zen, opening it up and went inside. When I stood in her parlor, I shook. I was so scared to be there. I didn't dare wake her up. I went to the couch and fell asleep. In the morning, Mr. Bridges found me.

"Get out of my house!" he yelled as he threw a pillow at me. "Did you steal anything?" His aura was icy blue.

I sat up. He obviously had no idea who I was.

"Is London here?" I asked as I dodged another pillow. His face softened when he realized I wasn't some random teen robbing his house. I somehow had connections to London.

"Oh, you want Sister Bridges?" he asked. His demeanor softened.

"Yes."

"And you are?"

"Alora Funk."

His face flashed white. "Oh, you are Alora. Forgive me for throwing pillows at you. I thought you had broken in-and while robbing our house- you fell asleep."

"LONDON!" he called out. He left the parlor.

London came dragging into the parlor. She had a robe on and her hair pinned up. Her eyes were barely open to slits. When she saw me, they flew open. I couldn't believe how much she looked like Peggy. I wondered why I hadn't seen it in the beginning.

"Alora, what are you doing here?"

"They found me again."

"Again? I thought Child Protective Services had placed you out of state."

"They were making preparations to do so, but I hadn't quite made it there. I was staying with the Peterson's, but then they found me last night."

"Did they hurt any of you?"

"I don't know. I climbed out of the window."

"Well at least you got away."

I cried and London wrapped me in her arms. Her embrace felt like Peggy's.

"I don't want to go back to Child Protective Services," I said. "I hate it there."

"I know sweetie, I know."

"Why can't I live here?" I asked.

"You already know why."

"That is a stupid reason," I replied.

"Nonetheless, it's the law."

She held me. "What are we going to do with you?"

"I don't know, but I do know they keep finding me. I know how they found me at the Sanibels, because I did the stupid TV interview. But, how did they find me at the Petersons?"

"There must be a breach at Child Protective Services. That makes me wonder if it is safe to give you back to them. I would hate for them to place you in another home, only to have the Russians come and get you again because someone in there is giving them information," London said.

"I know where I can go where they will never find me again," I said.

"Where is that?"

"A cave."

"Alora, don't be ridiculous."

"No, I am serious."

"So am I. You can't live in a cave."

"Sure I can."

"How will you eat?" she asked.

"I can make food."

"How will you stay warm when winter hits?"

"Easy. I will make fire."

"Alora, you are dreaming."

"Can I trust you, London?"

"You know you can."

"I mean really, really trust you. Would you sell me to science?"

"You can trust me, and no, I wouldn't sell you to anything," she said as she gave me another hug.

"I think I know why the Russians are after me."

"Why."

I picked up one of her pillows. "You see this pillow," I said holding it up in my hands.

"Yes," she said.

I levitated the pillow over to her. London's mouth dropped open.

"What is going on Alora?" she weakly said behind her white face. "I don't like black magic in my home."

"This isn't black magic. Why, this isn't magic at all. Its science being applied at a level previously not thought possible."

"How is that science?" she asked as I lowered the pillow into her hands. She seemed frightened of the pillow, and she tossed it to the floor as if it was a serpent wanting to bite her.

"I can connect to energy and manipulate objects and even better." I took the pillow with my Zen, putting it back in her hand. I rearranged its molecular structure and added elements to it, until London was left holding a loaf of bread. The pillow had turned into bread before her eyes, in her very hands. She screamed and dropped the bread onto the ground.

"That is black magic," she said as she backed away from the bread.

"No, it is science. It is actually very simple. I don't know how to explain it."

"Well I can see why the Russians want you," she said, still slowly backing away. She looked afraid of me. "Did they teach you that?" she asked. She was so nervous. I regretted sharing my secret with her.

"Alora, it is not safe to keep you here. If Child Protective Services knows we are friends. What are we going to do?"

"Take me to the cave," I said.

"Why would you want to live in a cave?" Mr. Bridges asked.

"Because, no one will find me there," I replied.

"There is a mole at Child Protective Services. The Russians keep just finding her and breaking into her house," London said as she scratched her nose. "These are houses that CPS place her in. How else would they know where she was at? If we send her back to CPS, then we are just sending her to her death."

"How about staying at my nephews for a while? He lives in Idaho. I could drive you there. No one would think to look there." Mr. Bridges said.

"If you snuck a child out of state, wouldn't it compromise your spot on the force? Besides, she can't stay with him. That is just a bad idea," London said.

"He would be a better placement than your sister was," Mr. Bridges retorted.

"Did you forget what happened in two thousand and eight?"

"Oh, good point. I had forgotten about two thousand and eight. I guess he isn't a good place for her," Mr. Bridges looked at his watch. "Oh crap, I am going to be late. I trust you two ladies can figure things out," he excused himself and left the parlor.

"What happened in two thousand and eight?" I asked.

London looked at me. "It is something I don't wish to discuss." She looked at her wall and pondered, "I don't know what we are going to do with you," she said.

"Please, give me a chance, take me to the cave."

"What will you do there?"

"I don't know, but I can take care of myself."

It was as at that moment she remembered what I had done to her pillow, for her eyes widened. "Oh yeah. You probably can."

...

After much begging, London drove me through Logan Canyon and parked at the trail to my cave. She was worried about leaving her car there, so she didn't want to follow me.

"Come up for a minute," I said, inviting her to the cave.

She looked up at the steep mountain face. "Alora, I am a big woman. There is no way I can climb up that thing, and neither should you. It doesn't look safe. This was a bad idea bringing you here. I don't know why I listened to you."

"Trust me," I said. I worked at climbing up the side of the mountain. London was right behind me, but she couldn't even make it over the first rock. I knew she was going to need some help. I waited until all the cars passed, then I took my Zen and lifted her up in a flying position.

"ALORA WHAT ARE YOU DOING? This is not safe. AAHHHHHHAHHH!" she screamed.

"You are going to be fine," I said as I flew to her side.

"How are you doing that?" she yelled as we flew up the side of the mountain.

"It is no different than levitating the pillow."

"What if you drop me?"

"I won't."

...

London stayed two nights with me at the cave. I think she was scared to leave a child there all alone. Despite Dr. Moody's warning, I shared in detail with London my time at Harvard and all I had learned. She saw my cave-furniture, and I told her how I had made it. I created all our dinners. By the third day, I had convinced her I could care for myself.

"Alora, I had a thought," she said as she was getting ready to leave.

"What is it?" I asked.

"If you are so in-tune with your mind, why don't you search through it until you find your file."

"What do you mean, my file?"

"You know, why don't you figure out who you are? If you can recall all the maps you have ever seen and retain every scrap of learning material, then why can't you open your mind and review your life; discover who you are? It is in there just like everything else."

I had spent countless hours trying to discover who I was with my logical mind, but I had never tried using my intellectual mind to open up the secrets of my past. If I could use my Zen to solve complex tests, elevate a large woman, and change matter around with my intellectual mind, surely I could open up lost memories.

...

London had to leave that night. She said she had responsibilities, but she would come and visit me in a day. She really hated to leave me, but I promised her I would be alright. I flew her back to her car.

Once she left, I sat on my rock bed in the cave. Her words echoed in my mind. She was right. If I could control matter, and energy, and I could recall everything I had learned, then why couldn't I look into my mind and remember who I was?

I went outside and sat on the ground with my legs crossed together. A strong wind blew and it was rather cold outside. The smell of damp dirt and wood carried over to me. I could hear a squirrel gnawing on some bark. I shook from the cold. I used my Zen to create a field around me where the wind could not reach me and distract me. I heated all of my extremities up. An owl hooted in the background. I closed my eyes, and switched into my intellectual mind. I had waited long enough. It was time to open the secret chambers of my mind, and discover Alora Funk!

# About the Author

Stephanie Daich loves life, family; learning, dancing, skating, imagining, hiking, camping, fishing, swimming, cannoning, playing music, listening to music, and Writing!!!!!

# Other Books written by Stephanie Daich

Amongst the Dragons series:

A Rose Amongst the Dragons I

A Tyrant Amongst the Kingdoms II

A Vigilante Amongst the Foe III

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