Here Today, Gone Tomorrow

Chapter Eight

Jenna sat alone in the cafeteria. It was strange, in a way. Before she got to know Emily and Tracey, she'd always sat alone in the cafeteria, and it never bothered her. But maybe she wasn't as much of a loner as she thought she was. Now, she missed her friends.

She looked around for Ken, but she didn't see him. She did see Charles, and she was surprised to notice where he was sitting. His wheelchair was parked by one of the tables where the jocks sat. Among them were the basketball players Ken had been talking to that morning on the steps.

Poor Charles, Jenna thought. Did he really think he could break into that exclusive clique? But she didn't give this too much thought. She had more important things on her mind.

It wasn't time for class yet, but she decided that being alone in an empty classroom was better than being alone in a crowded cafeteria, so she sneaked out of lunch early. She could think better without all the noise. And she needed to think, hard.

She wanted to make another attempt to contact Emily. Once before, when Emily had been trapped in a storage room, Jenna had been able to read her mind from a distance and come to her rescue. Of course, Emily hadn't been very far away that time- the room was in the basement of the school. But maybe she wasn't far away now. Or maybe Jenna's gift could extend to longer distances. In any case, it was worth the effort.

She concentrated with determination in the silence of room 209. But the effort was wasted. As hard as she tried, she couldn't hear Emily. Or Sarah, Tracey, Martin, or Carter. She slumped back in her seat and wished someone else would arrive in the classroom to distract her from her own thoughts.

Someone did-but it was only Amanda-the-robot, or whatever that thing was who looked like Amanda. The pretty duplicate went to her seat and pulled out her cosmetics case. Without much hope, Jenna tried to communicate. "Hey, Amanda."

"Amanda" tore her eyes away from her own reflection. "What?"

"You wouldn't happen to know where the real Amanda is, would you?"

The blank expression on fake Amanda's face gave Jenna her answer.

Ken came in next, followed by Charles. Ken looked glum. Charles was beaming.

Jenna started with Ken. "What's up?"

Ken scowled and rubbed his forehead. "Someone's been bugging me."

Jenna knew what he meant. Every now and then, dead people tried to send him on a mission. Ken's problem was that he was essentially a nice guy, and he hated to say no. So he kept putting them off, telling them "not now" or "maybe later," and they kept on nagging him.

"Just put your foot down and make it clear that you're not going to run their afterlife errands for them," Jenna advised. "They'll have to give up sooner or later."

Ken shook his head. "This one's a mother. I don't think she's ever going to give up." He blinked. "What's that noise? I don't think it's coming from inside my head."

"It's Charles," Jenna told him. "He's whistling."

Charles had never whistled in class before, and they both turned to stare at him.

"That tune sounds kind of familiar," Jenna said.

"No kidding," Ken replied. "It's the school fight song. Don't you ever go to any games?"

"No."

"Hey, Charles, what's going on?" Ken asked. "Are you getting school spirit or something?"

"Just trying to remember the tune," Charles said cheerfully. "I'm going to the basketball game this afternoon."

Ken sighed. "Charles, if you're going to get into sports, why don't you back winners? Watch the wrestlers or the soccer guys. Our basketball team stinks this year."

"They won the past two games," Charles pointed out.

"Yeah, but they lost the ten games before that, and they lost big time," Ken said. "And it's only Mike Brady who's scoring."

Charles stopped smiling. "That's your opinion. I'll bet they make it to the finals this year."

Ken shook his head. "Nah, no way. A team can't get to the finals with only one good forward. Mike can't keep this up-he's not that great a player."

"So why do you go to all the games?" Charles demanded to know.

Ken shrugged. "Those guys are my buddies."

"Yeah, well, they're my buddies, too," Charles declared.

Ken rolled his eyes in disbelief.

"He was sitting with them at lunch today," Jenna told him.

Ken grinned, as if he assumed she was joking. "Yeah, right. Anyway, don't expect much from your buddies today, Charles. Who are we playing? St. Mark's? They've got an amazing team. They haven't lost yet this season. I hate to say it, but our guys are doomed."

"Don't talk about my friends like that," Charles yelled.

Suddenly the big fat dictionary on Madame's desk rose and took off in the direction of Ken's head, moving fast.

"Charles!" Madame was in the doorway. "Stop that at once!"

The book froze in midair. Then, at half the speed, it sailed back to Madame's desk.

"Don't waste your gift on nonsense," Madame said as she went to her desk. "That goes for all of you. Your gifts may be needed for more important purposes."

"Like what?" Charles asked.

"Charles, have you not noticed that half the class is missing?" "Oh, that."

Madame glared at Charles and seemed about to lecture him when the door opened. Jenna gasped when she saw Carter Street walk into the room.

"Carter!" Madame exclaimed. "Where have you been? Are you all right?"

Jenna almost laughed. Did Madame really expect a response? Carter never spoke, and today was no exception. Without making eye contact with anyone in the class, he went to his usual seat and sat down.

Madame studied him for a minute. Then she turned to Jenna.

"Jenna, read his mind. See if you can find out where he's been."

Jenna now had another reason to gasp. Madame had never asked her to read someone's mind before. In fact, she was always telling Jenna to stay out of other people's heads. She'd been scolded numerous times for invading the private thoughts of classmates.

But there was one student in the class whose mind had always been closed to her. "I've tried to read his mind before, Madame. I can't get anything."

"Try again," Madame ordered.

"Okay." She looked at the boy and concentrated. It was as she expected-nothing was revealed to her. After a moment, Madame asked, "Would it help to get closer to him?"

"Maybe," Jenna said, but without much hope. She got up and took the vacant seat in front of Carter. Moving the chair so she could face him, she stared into his eyes. Carter stared right back. She tried to think of her gift as an x-ray, something that could see through anything. And maybe she really was penetrating Carter's mind. But all she saw was complete darkness, a black void. She didn't know if he was intentionally blocking her gift or if there was just nothing there.

"I'm sorry, Madame." She started to turn away, but something about Carter's face made her look at him again. "Madame, his eyes look funny. Like, sort of watery. The way mine get when I have a cold."

Madame approached and gazed at him thoughtfully. "Yes, I see what you mean. And he's more pale than usual." She turned.

"Amanda, would you accompany Carter to the infirmary, please?"

Obviously programmed to behave like Amanda, Other-Amanda let out a heart-rending sigh. Then, with an expression of great reluctance, she got up.

"Carter, go with Amanda," Madame said. And as always, Carter obeyed a direct command.

They had just left the classroom when Ken uttered a word that was highly frowned upon by Meadowbrook teachers. It wasn't typical of him, and Madame looked more concerned than annoyed.

"Ken? What's wrong?"

He was clutching his head with both hands. Jenna didn't even have to concentrate to read his thoughts. She thought everyone might be able to hear the shouting that was going on in poor Ken's head.

You must talk to my son. It's urgent! My boy is in big trouble, and he needs my advice.

"Leave me alone!" Ken pleaded.

This is important! Listen to me. You have to contact him, now!

"No! Get out of my head!"

Jenna jumped. She'd never heard Ken sound so angry.

Jenna and Madame watched him anxiously. A few seconds passed, and Ken's eyes widened. "Hey, I think she's gone."

"See?" Jenna said. "I told you, you just have to be tough with these dead people."

Madame, however, still looked worried. "Ken. . you're sure you haven't heard from, from …" she looked like she was having trouble saying the words". . from the missing students?"

Ken shook his head. "No, Madame. I'd listen to one of them. I just hope …" his voice trailed away.

"You hope what?" Madame asked.

"I just hope I won't have to."

By the end of the school day, Jenna's frustration level had reached an all-time high. It was pathetic- working math problems, conjugating Spanish verbs, and playing volleyball in gym class when her friends were missing and possibly in grave danger. And here she was, doing nothing about it.

Her thoughts went back to Carter. He had to know something. He was their only link to the others. If she couldn't read his mind, maybe she could get some information out of him another way.

Back in the days when she'd run with a pretty rough street crowd, she'd known some scary people. At least, they knew how to act scary. Jenna could recall a few tactics that just might shake up Carter and frighten him out of his usual zombie state. The last bell had rung, and students were leaving the building, but there were a lot of after school activities going on-club meetings, the basketball game-so the infirmary had to stay open. There was a good chance Carter might still be there.

Unfortunately, the school nurse was still there, too. It wasn't going to be easy to threaten Carter with her watching.

"Yes?" the nurse asked. "Can I help you?"

Jenna thought rapidly. "There was an explosion in the chemistry lab! A teacher told me to come and get you."

The nurse rose from her desk and glanced into the little room off the reception area. Whatever she saw must have reassured her because she snatched up a bag and hurried out.

Jenna berated herself--she should have sent the nurse to the gym, which was all the way on the other side of the school. It wouldn't take her long to get up a flight of stairs and see that there was nobody lying on the floor of the lab. Jenna didn't have much time.

In the little room, there were four cots, but only one was occupied. Carter was sleeping.

"Carter!" Jenna said sharply. "Wake up!"

Carter didn't move. She went over to him and poked his arm. "Come on, Carter, wake up!"

There was still no response. She put her hands on both his thin arms and shook him. But the guy could really sleep. If she hadn't seen his chest going up and down, she would have thought he was dead.

But Carter was weird in so many ways. When he was awake, he was like a sleepwalker. It made sense that his actual sleep would be something else altogether.

Now what was she going to do? The nurse would be back any minute. Another idea occurred to her. If Carter was in a really deep sleep, he could be dreaming-and there was a chance he could be dreaming about his recent experiences. And if he was really, truly unconscious, maybe he wouldn't be able to block her efforts to read his mind.

Having never tried to read the mind of a sleeping person, she wasn't sure if it would work. But it turned out to be even easier than reading a mind that was completely awake and alert. She didn't even have to concentrate very hard-an image formed almost immediately.

It was a house-a large house that looked old and abandoned. Windows were boarded up, and a door that had once been red was covered with graffiti. There was something vaguely familiar about the scene.

"Excuse me, young lady!" A very irate nurse stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips. "What's going on? There was no explosion upstairs! And what are you doing in here with my patient?"

"Gosh, I thought I heard something. It must have been my imagination. Sorry!" Jenna slipped past the nurse and scurried out of the infirmary.

She had to share this news with someone who would care. First she ran up to room 209, but Madame wasn't there. Then she remembered Charles talking about the basketball game. Had Ken said he was going, too?

Outside the gym, she could hear yelling and cheering. When she pushed the door open, it was practically deafening. How could people get so excited about a stupid basketball game? she wondered. Especially since, according to Ken, Meadowbrook's team wasn't so great.

Not according to the scoreboard though. Under the heading "Home," the number was 110. Under "Visitors," the score read 0. Jenna vaguely recalled Ken saying they were playing some super duper team today. It certainly didn't look that way to her.

But Jenna wasn't really interested, and she didn't waste any more time thinking about the score. She scanned the bleachers for Ken. Finally she spotted him, way up on the top level.

"Excuse me, sorry, excuse me," she chanted while squeezing by the cheering fans. When she reached the top, she practically pushed some guy off the stands in order to plant herself down next to Ken.

Ken glanced at her, but his eyes went back to the game immediately. "Can you believe this?" he exclaimed. "I don't know what happened to these guys, but they're playing brilliantly! It's not just Mike-they're all making baskets. And St. Mark's can't even score! They can't even get the ball near the net."

"Who cares?" Jenna asked impatiently. "Ken, listen, I read Carter's mind!"

That tore his attention away from the court. "What did you find out?"

"Just the image of a house. But that could be where he was being held, and where the others are now."

"Where's the house?"

"I don't know," Jenna admitted. "But I've got this feeling I've seen it before. I just need to remember …" "Oh, forget about it!"

Jenna was taken aback by Ken's reaction. Then she realized that he wasn't responding to her-his eyes had strayed back to the basketball court. A boy, one of the guys Ken knew, stood at one end of the court and held a ball. He was looking at the hoop at the other end of the court.

"I can't believe Mike's going to try that," Ken said. "Why doesn't he toss it to another player? There's no way he can make a basket from that distance."

Looking at Mike's position on the court, Jenna had to agree. She knew nothing about basketball, but she couldn't imagine any normal person being able to throw a ball that far and actually meet a target. Then she realized that something far from normal was going on.

"Ken, look!" She pointed at Charles, whose wheelchair was parked at the bottom of the opposite bleachers. He was staring at the basketball with an expression that was very familiar. And when the ball left the hands of the player, it flew the length of the court and fell right into the basket, so neatly that the net didn't even rustle.

A roar went up from the crowd. But even with all the noise, Jenna didn't miss the groan that came from Ken.

"I can't believe it!" He smacked the side of his head. "Charles is moving the ball for them!"

"Do you think the team knows he's doing it?" Jenna wondered.

"I doubt it," Ken said. "They don't know about his gift-nobody at school does, except for us. "Then he frowned. "But Mike was asking me about him earlier. He called Charles spooky."

Spooky. .The word ignited something deep in her memory. Back when she was hanging with the low-life types and staying out all night, they were always looking for shelters when the weather was bad.

She drew in her breath so sharply that Ken looked at her in alarm. "Are you okay?"

"I just remembered," she said. "I know where that house is."