Into the Shadows (12 page)

“I’ll take care of her on Monday. I know who she is
and it won’t be a problem. By practice everything should be fine.”
Christian was visibly pleased with himself, smiling like a Cheshire
cat.

Paivi felt a little uncomfortable.

“Uh, thanks?” It sounded more like a question.

There was a loud burst of cackles from the table
with the three ladies. Paivi jumped a little, she’d forgotten they
were there.

“Now, I have a favor to ask you,” Christian began.
“I need you to tell me who is going to win the big football game
next weekend between Chicago and Green Bay, and the exact
score.”

Paivi looked at him with a confused look on her
face.

“What? How am I supposed to do that?”

He looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, okay, I get why you asked me, but I can’t do
that. I’ve never had any dreams about that kind of stuff. I mostly
have dreams about myself, or family and friends,” she
explained.

Christian looked up as the waitress approached,
carrying their shakes and his cheeseburger.

“Here you go, Oreo shake.” The waitress set the tall
glass and metal tumbler carrying the freshly mixed shake in front
of her. “Cheeseburger and chocolate shake. Enjoy!”

Paivi didn’t waste any time digging in.

“So, let me guess, you’ve never really used your
ability before?” he asked, taking a bite of his cheeseburger.

“Used it? I’ve just seen lots of things. They just
come to me,” she answered through a spoonful of Oreo shake.

“Exactly. No one has ever taught you to use your
ability though.” Christian popped a french fry into his mouth.
“I’ve met other people like you. They could just turn it on and
off. So try that and see if you can find out about next weekend’s
game.”

“Okay Mr. Know-It-All, how do I even begin to do
that?” Her spoon was paused mid-way from the cup to her mouth. “And
why aren’t you asking these other people to do this for you?”

A shadow passed across his face, and Christian met
Paivi’s gaze across the table.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He looked away and
continued. “Anyways, when they wanted to see something, they would
concentrate on a person or event, and if they concentrated on it
hard enough, they could see it. I’ve seen people do it, they kind
of looked like they were meditating, you know, like Buddhist monks
do.”

“And they didn’t have to be asleep?” Paivi was
listening intently. She had never realized she could control it,
her parents hadn’t told her that part. Is it possible they didn’t
know?

“Nope, they could do it any time they wanted. The
reason you see the things you do in your dreams is because you have
thoughts of those people or events in your subconscious. You were
concentrating on them without even realizing it,” he said
matter-of-factly.

“Wow,” was all Paivi could say. She stirred her
shake with the spoon.

“What are you going to do? Bet on the game or
something?” she asked.

“I won’t worry you about that. The less you know the
better. If I remember right, that’s how you wanted it to be,” he
answered.

“But what if it doesn’t work? What if I can’t see
the game?” She set her empty glass to the side.

“Well, you’ve got all week, I just need to know by
next Saturday. You’ll get it, don’t worry.” Christian pushed his
empty plate forward.

He waved for the waitress to bring the bill. She
hurried over with the check, handing it to Christian. Paivi took
out her wallet, but Christian held up his hand.

“My treat,” he said, opening his wallet, which was
full of cash.

“Uh, thanks. I didn’t realize you were Mr.
Moneybags. Where did you get all that cash?” she teased.

“That’s for me to know.” He threw down some bills on
the table. “Come on, let’s go.”

They made their way down the stairs to the entrance.
Paivi put on her coat.

“See you at school on Monday, I guess.”

“Do you need a ride?” he asked, scanning the
street.

“No, thanks, I don’t live far and it’s not too bad
out. I think I’ll walk.” She didn’t want to explain to her parents
why some strange guy was dropping her off.

“Ah, here’s my ride. Later, then,” he said, giving
her a quick wave.

A black SUV pulled up to the curb. Paivi turned to
head towards home, thinking about what Christian had told her. She
walked quickly, barely taking in her surroundings. She wanted to
get home and see if she could really choose what future to see.

Paivi Anderson

Current Events p.6

Dr. Hasenpfeffer

This week’s article by Jerome Knowles ‘Election
Upset!’ from the
St. Andrew Herald
discussed the election results. President-elect Wendell Stevens
was elected in a landslide victory after revealing his new plan for
dealing with the Righteous Front during the final debate. The
voters are now waiting to hear when the Anti-Terrorism Coalition
will take effect and the list will be released. Knowles states that
the election was by far one of the biggest surprises in history.
Personally, I am still surprised that Moira Kelly didn’t win,
because everyone seemed to like her. I hope that President-elect
Stevens’ plan really does work and they get the terrorists off the
street. I am sure most Americans would be happy to have no more
attacks from the Righteous Front. People could go to work and
school and never have to worry about dying and that would be an
awesome change.

Election Day was a happy blur for Senator Wendell
Stevens, or rather President-elect Stevens. Hand shaking, speeches,
posing for pictures.

Sitting quietly in his office the next day, he could
hear the hustle and bustle in the hallways. Government was going on
all around him. He was happy to finally get some time to
himself.

President-elect Stevens glanced at the newspapers on
his desk, a large picture of himself on the cover, with confetti
and red, white, and blue balloons all around him. His hands were
raised, fingers forming victory signs.

It was everything he had always wanted. He was now
the most powerful man in the world. He leaned back in his leather
chair. Soon enough, he would leave his small, cramped senator’s
office behind for his new place, the Oval Office in the White
House. He closed his eyes, picturing himself sitting behind the
large presidential desk in the Oval Office.

He sat forward suddenly in his desk, breaking his
daydream. He felt like he had to check on it again. He pulled open
the desk drawer, moved some papers aside, and slid a secret panel
in the bottom of the drawer aside. He pulled an oddly shaped key
from his pocket. It was a thin skeleton key with a tiny pyramid at
the end. It wasn’t smooth, but instead carved with various notches
of different sizes and shapes.

Stevens remembered receiving the key from the
office’s previous tenant, Senator Reginald Tuttle. Tuttle said it
had been passed to him some forty years before from the legendary
Senator John Graham. No one knew when the key had been made.

He placed the odd-shaped key into the lock in the
desk drawer. It clicked and popped open. There, in a velvet-lined
compartment, lay the flash drive. The list. The future.

It made him a bit nervous, keeping something so
valuable, so precious, in such an old-fashioned device. Luckily,
both Senators Tuttle and Graham were long dead, leaving him as the
sole person alive that knew about the key and the secret
compartment in the desk.

In a week, he was to meet with his new committee,
and the lists would go public. Then security wouldn’t matter.

He thought about the names on the list. Some of his
own family members were on there. Cousin Lisa, his nephew Danny.
There had been others as well, his own assistant Martin, members of
Congress, mayors, governors, and celebrities. He would approach
them after the committee meeting. Perhaps by pledging their
allegiance to the cause, along with a considerable cash donation,
he could convince the committee to put them on the ‘compliant’
list. That should keep them out of trouble. But he would still keep
an eye on them all. Just in case. It was clear that they could not
be trusted.

There was one name on the list, however, that he
would be sure received no special treatment.

It brought him back to his college days. Wendell
Stevens had a difficult time in school. He found high school
relatively easy, but upon entering Harvard University, he struggled
in every class, spending all of his waking moments with his nose
stuck in a book.

Wendell’s obsession with studying, in addition to
his frumpy and unattractive appearance, put a damper on his social
life. It was, in a word, non-existent.

His roommate, Peter Farmington, was anything but
awkward. He was tall and blond, good at sports and even better with
the girls. It always irritated Wendell that Peter did so well in
school, considering that they shared a room and Wendell rarely
witnessed Peter crack a book.

Peter was never mean to Wendell. He even invited
Wendell to a few parties throughout the year that they lived
together in the dorms. They never had any disagreements or
misunderstandings. Peter was an easy roommate and was liked by all,
even Wendell, though he hated to admit it. In general, most of the
other guys on their floor would have said Peter and Wendell were
good roommates.

Deep down Wendell thought it was all so unfair.
Peter had it all, looks, friends, brains, girls, and a fantastic
personality. To Wendell, that made it even worse. He wanted to hate
Peter, but he was just so darn nice.

Wendell only had to suffer with Peter’s perfect
nature for a short time. Peter Farmington dropped out of Harvard
University during his sophomore year. He started a small company
making computers out of his parents’ garage with a couple of
friends.

Today, Peter Farmington was the head of Vantage
Tech, the world’s most popular and influential computer company.
Peter was the world’s second richest man, behind some prince from
the Middle East.

He had seen Peter Farmington many times throughout
the years at dinners, cocktail parties, and various other
functions. Peter was still just as charming and popular as he had
been that year at Harvard. He always greeted him warmly.

All along it grated at him. Here was the world’s
most perfect person, popping in and out of his life, just to remind
him that no matter how hard he tried, he could never be as
friendly, successful, or all-around perfect as Peter
Farmington.

But now to have seen that name on the list, could it
be that Mr. Farmington was a fraud? Was his entire life a lie? He
was sure it had to be. Soon enough the world would know that they
had all been taken by this swindler.

President-elect Stevens leaned back in his chair,
cracking his knuckles.

I may not be the world’s golden boy, he thought, but
I am the world’s most powerful man. Peter Farmington’s time has
come to an end.

Butterflies crashed around inside Paivi’s stomach.
St. Andrew High School was hosting the biggest girls’ basketball
tournament in the area, and her team had made it to the
championship game. The night before, Paivi had a vision that showed
people cheering for her, but she was unable to see the events that
led up to it. She woke up briefly and tried concentrating really
hard on the game, like Christian had told her, but it didn’t work.
She was a little nervous about her abilities as well. She was
supposed to tell Christian the score of the Chicago-Green Bay game
tomorrow, and she still hadn’t had any luck there, either. She had
been a bit preoccupied with the tournament all week and in addition
to that, her mind had been clouded with thoughts of Jason.

Maybe tonight after the game, I can focus a little
more, she thought.

As she sat in her Math class, she thought back to
Monday. Jason had come to her locker that morning, looking a bit
sheepish.

“Hey, Paivi, I, uh, I wanted to apologize for
getting so mad the other day about the election,” he had said.

Paivi had given Jason the cold shoulder the entire
week before. When Senator Stevens actually won the election, Jason
fell into such a funk that Paivi didn’t dare talk to him. Besides,
she felt he still owed her an apology and she wasn’t about to give
in, as much as it pained her to avoid him.

“It’s about time.” She gave him a dirty look.

“Please don’t be mad,” he pleaded. “I had to suffer
the whole weekend because you weren’t talking to me. I’ve been
punished enough!”

“I just don’t know if an apology will be enough to
win me over,” she added playfully. “What else have you got?”