Chapter
Six: Saving Grace
“How many
people are out there?”
I closed my eyes tighter, trying to
determine which of the bumpy things were people. “I don’t know,” I replied,
sighing heavily, opening my eyes again.
“You do; you’re over thinking it,”
Mom insisted. “It’s like someone asking you if you want coffee or tea and
you’re trying to figure out what kind of either they’ll give you if you say
it.”
“That’s exactly what it’s like,” I
mumbled, rolling my eyes. “You ask which are people and not just furniture or
whatever. You’re asking me to determine from a bunch of lumps which are
living.” I might have snapped a little, which would explain why she was
crouching in the corner with her head cradled in her arms. It wasn’t entirely
my fault; I was frustrated, and her happy-go-lucky attitude wasn’t helping.
I sighed. “I’m sorry.” It wasn’t
like I didn’t want to learn; I did. I just wished I had a more consistently
lucid teacher. “Explain it to me again.”
“Okay,” she said, jumping up and
springing towards me. Her goofy smile and big eyes were back before she caught
herself. Settling before me, she announced, “We’re going to try this another
way. I’m going to do it, and try to send, at the same time.”
She reached her hands out, staring
at me insistently. I took her hands, deciding to give up trying to understand what
we were doing. Maybe she’d be able to teach me how to send later on as well—whatever
that was.
“Close your eyes, you need to for
now. I don’t have to of course but I’ve been doing it since before you were
born, which is what surprised me so much. You hadn’t figured it out and I
thought everyone would have known how to—” Mom stopped babbling, her eyes wide
in shock at herself. “I’ve gotten really bad at that. I’ll try harder,” she
promised, shaking herself. “I haven’t done sending in a while. Mapping is easy,
though. That’s how I know when Nick is here. He really is nice. Don’t look at
me that way, I was just saying.”
“I’m relaxed, my eyes are closed,
and I’m open. What next?” I queried, trying to sound calmer than I felt.
“Give me a moment. I have to
remember how to send.”
“Do you have names for all the
tricks?”
“Of course. It’s how I tell them
apart, silly;” she giggled. “Now I have to concentrate. Shush a moment.”
It was awkward while I waited. I
couldn’t recall it ever being quiet when the lights were on. One of us was
always talking—me to shush her or her just to be talking. Sitting there in the
silence, holding hands, was the strangest and most exhilarating feeling. It had
been so long since I had experimented, and even longer since I had learned
anything new.
These thoughts of everything weird
in the moment were shoved aside as what she was working filled my mind. I
watched her drape a thin layer of air over the next room like a picnic blanket.
Then she tucked it around the objects in the room, gently, until everything
took a bluish shape in my mind. Everything was distinguishable, too—there were
two desks complete with chairs, a lamp on one and pictures on another, a coat
rack on one wall next to a key rack, and one ceiling light. The light was
flickering; I could tell from the way the shade of blue over it changed
rapidly. There were two people in the room, I could see that clearly now. One
kicked back in a chair reading a periodical, the other treading slowly toward
the key rack, saying something I couldn’t make out.
“Two people,” I said aloud, opening
my eyes to her sparkling ones.
“Good job.”
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