FOR ONCE, SINCE WE ARRIVED IN OHIO, Things seem to slow for a time. School ends quietly and for winter break we have eleven
days off. Sam and his mother spend most of it visiting his aunt in Illinois. Sarah stays home. We spend Christmas together. We kiss when the ball drops at midnight on New Years Eve.
Despite the snow and the cold, or maybe even in retaliation against it, we go for long walks through the woods behind my house, holding hands, kissing, breathing in the chilly air beneath the low gray skies of winter. We spend more and more time together. Not a day passes during that whole break that we dont see each other at least once.
We walk hand in hand beneath an umbrella of white from the snow piled atop the tree branches overhead. She has her camera with her and occasionally stops to take pictures. Most of the snow on the ground lies undisturbed aside from the tracks we have made on the walk out. We follow them back now, Bernie Kosar in the lead, darting in and out of the brambles, chasing rabbits into small groves and thickets of thorny bush, chasing squirrels up trees. Sarah wears a pair of black earmuffs. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose are red with the cold, making her eyes look bluer. I stare at her.
What? she asks, smiling.
Just admiring the view.
She rolls her eyes at me. For the most part the woods are dense aside from sporadic clearings we continually stumble upon. Im not sure how far in any one direction the woods extend, but in all of our walks we have yet to reach their end.
I bet its beautiful here in the summer, Sarah says. We can probably picnic in the clearings.
An ache forms in my chest. Summer is still five months away and if Henri and I are here in May, we will have made it seven months in Ohio. That is very nearly the longest we have ever stayed in one place.
Yeah, I agree.
Sarah looks at me. What?
I look at her questioningly.
What do you mean, what?
That wasnt very convincing, she says. A mess of crows fly by overhead, squawking noisily.
I just wish it was summer now.
Me too. I cant believe we have to go back to school tomorrow.
Ugh, dont remind me.
We enter another clearing, larger than the others, an almost perfect circle a hundred feet in diameter. Sarah lets go of my hand, runs into the middle of it, and drops into the snow, laughing. She rolls to her back and begins making a snow angel. I drop beside her and do the same. The tips of our fingers just barely touch while we make the wings. We get up.
Its like were holding wings, she says.
Is that possible? I ask. I mean, how would we fly if were holding wings?
Of course its possible. Angels can do anything.
Then she turns and nuzzles into me. Her cold face against my neck makes me squirm away from her.
Ahh! Your face is like ice.
She laughs. Come warm me up.
I take her in my arms and kiss her beneath the open sky, the trees surrounding us. There are no sounds save the birds and the occasional pack of snow falling from the nearby branches.
Two cold faces pressed tightly together. Bernie Kosar comes trotting up, out of breath, tongue dangling, tail wagging. He barks and sits in the snow staring at us, his head cocked to the side.
Bernie Kosar! Were you off chasing rabbits? Sarah asks.
He barks twice and runs over and jumps up on her. He barks again and pushes off and then looks up expectantly. She grabs a stick from the ground, shakes the snow off it, and then hurls it into the trees. He races after it and disappears from sight. He emerges from the trees ten seconds later, but instead of returning to the clearing where he had exited it, he comes from the opposite side. Sarah and I both spin around to watch him.
Howd he do that? she asks.
Dont know, I say.
Hes a peculiar dog.
Did you hear that, Bernie Kosar?
He just called you peculiar!
He drops the stick at her feet.
We walk towards home, holding hands, the day nearing dusk. Bernie Kosar trots beside us the whole way out, his head on a swivel as though ushering us along, keeping us safe from what may or may not lurk in the outer dark beyond our line of sight.
Five newspapers are stacked on the kitchen table, Henri at his computer, the overhead light on.
Anything? I ask out of habit, nothing more. There hasnt been a promising story in months, which is a good thing, but I cant help but always hope for something every time I ask.
Actually, yes, I think so.
I perk up, then walk around the table and look over Henris shoulder at the computer screen. What?
There was an earthquake in Argentina yesterday evening. A sixteen-year-old girl pulled an elderly man free from a pile of rubble in a tiny town near the coast.
Number Nine?
Well, I certainly think shes one of us. Whether shes Number Nine or not remains to be seen.
Why? Theres nothing really extraordinary about pulling a man from rubble.
Look, Henri says, and then scrolls to the top of the article. There is a picture of a large slab of concrete at least a foot thick, eight feet long and wide. This is what she lifted to save him. It must weigh five tons. And look at this, he says,and scrolls back to the bottom of the page. He highlights the very last sentence. It reads: Sofia GarcÃa could not be found for comment.
I read the sentence three times. She couldnt be
found, I say.
Exactly. She didnt decline to comment; she simply couldnt be found.
How did they know her name?
Its a small town, less than a third the size of Paradise. Most everyone would know her name there.
She left, didnt she?
Henri nods. I think so. Probably before the paper was even published. Thats the downfall of small towns; its impossible to remain unnoticed.
I sigh.
Hard for the Mogadorians to go unnoticed too.
Precisely.
Sucks for her, I say, and stand up. Who knows what she must have left behind.
Henri gives me a skeptical look, opens his mouth to say something, but then thinks better of it and goes back to the computer. I return to my bedroom. I pack my bag with a fresh change of clothes and the books Ill need for the day. Back to school. Im not looking forward to it, though itll be nice to see Sam again, whom I havent seen in nearly two weeks.
Okay, I say. Im off.
Have a good day. Be safe out there.See you this afternoon.
Bernie Kosar rushes out of the house ahead of me. Hes a ball of energy this morning. I think hes come to look forward to our morning runs, and the fact that we havent done one in a week and a half has him chomping at the bit to get back to it. He keeps up with me for most of the run. Once we make it I give him a good pet and scratch behind his ears.
All right, boy, go home, I say. He turns and starts trotting back to the house.
I take my time in the shower. By the time I finish, other students are beginning to arrive. Iwalk the hall, stop by my locker, then go to Sam's. I slap him on the back. It startles him, then he flashes a big toothy grin when he sees that its me.
I thought Iwas going to have to whip somebody's ass there for a minute, he says.
Just me, my friend. How was Illinois?
Ugh, he says, and rolls his eyes. My aunt made me drink tea and watch reruns of Little House on the Prairie nearly every day.
I laugh. That sounds awful.
It was, trust me, he says, and reaches into his bag.
This was waiting in the mail when we got back.
He hands me the latest issue of They Walk Among Us . I begin flipping through it.
There is nothing on us or the Mogadorians, he says.
Good, I say. They must fear us after you visited them.
Yeah, right.
Over Sams shoulder I see that Sarah is coming our way. Mark James stops her in the middle of the hallway and hands her a few sheets of orange paper. Then she continues on her way.
Hi, gorgeous, I say when she reaches us.
She stands on her toes to kiss me.
Her lips taste like strawberry lip balm.
Hi, Sam. How are you?
Good. Howre you? he asks.
He seems at ease with her now.
Before the incident with Henri, which was a month and a half ago, being in Sarahs presence would have made him uncomfortable, and he wouldnt have been able to meet her eye or know what to do with his hands.
But now he looks at her and smiles, speaking with confidence.
Good, she says.
Im supposed to give you both one of these.
She hands us each one of the orange sheets Mark just gave her. Its a party invitation for this upcoming Saturday night at his house.
Im invited? Sam asks.
Sarah nods. All three of us are.
Do you want to go? I ask.
Maybe we could give it a shot.
I nod. You interested, Sam?
He looks past Sarah and me. I turn to see what he is looking at, or rather who. At a locker across the hall is Emily, the girl who was on the hayride with us, and who Sam has been pining for ever since. When she walks past she sees that Sam is watching her and she smiles politely.
Emily? I say to Sam.
Emily what? Sam asks, looking back at me.
I look at Sarah. I think Sam likes Emily Knapp.
I do not, he says.
I could ask her to come to the party with us, Sarah says.
Do you think she would go? Sam asks.
Sarah looks at me. Well, maybe I shouldnt invite her since Sam doesnt like her.
Sam smiles. Okay, fine. I just, I dont know.
She kept asking why you never called after the hayride.
She kind of likes you.
That is true, I say. Ive heard her say it.
Why didnt you tell me? says Sam.
You never asked.
Sam looks down at the flyer. So its this Saturday?
Yes.
He looks up at me. I say we go.
I shrug. Im in.
Henri is waiting for me when the final bell rings. As always, Bernie Kosar is in the passenger seat, and when he sees me, his tail begins wagging a hundred miles an hour. I jump into the truck. Henri puts it into gear and drives away.
There was a follow-up article on the girl in Argentina, Henri says.
And?
Just a short article saying that she has disappeared.
The mayor of the town is offering a modest reward for information on her whereabouts. It sounds like they believe shes been kidnapped.
Are you worried about the Mogadorians having gotten to her first?
If shes Nine, like the note we found indicated, and the Mogadorians were tracking her, its a good thing that she vanished. And if shes been captured, the Mogadorians cant kill her they cant even hurt her.
That gives us hope. The good thing, aside from the news itself, is that I imagine every Mogadorian on Earth has poured into Argentina.
Speaking of which, Sam had the latest issue of They WalkAmong Us today.
Was there anything in it?
Nope.
I didnt think there would be. Your levitation trick seemed to affect them rather profoundly.
When we arrive home I change clothes and meet Henri in the backyard for our day of training. Working while consumed with fire has gotten easier. I dont get as flustered as I did on that first day. I can hold my breath longer, close to four minutes. I have more control over the objects I lift, and I can lift more of them at the same time. Little by little, the look of worry I saw on Henris face during the first days has melted away. He nods more. He smiles more. On the days it goes really well he gets a crazed look in his eyes and he raises his arms in the air and yells Yes! as loudly as he can. In that way I am gaining confidence in my Legacies. The rest have yet to come, but I dont think theyre far off.And the major one, whatever it will be. The anticipation of it keeps me up most nights. I want to fight. I hunger for a Mogadorian to saunter into the backyard so that I may finally seek revenge.
Its an easy day. No fire. Mostly just me lifting things and manipulating them while they are suspended in the air. The last twenty minutes pass with Henri throwing objects at me sometimes just allowing them to fall to the ground, other times deflecting them in a way that emulates a boomerang so that they twist in the air and go blazing back towards Henri. At one point a meat tenderizer flies back so fast that Henri dives face-first into the snow to keep from being hit by it. I laugh. Henri does not. Bernie Kosar lies on the ground the whole time watching us, seeming to offer his own encouragement. After we are done I shower, do my homework, and sit at the kitchen table for dinner.
So there is a party this Saturday that Im going to go to.
He looks up at me, stops chewing. Whose party?
Mark James's.
Henri looks surprised.
All thats over, I say before he can object.
Well, you know best, I suppose. Just remember whats at stake.