Powerless Revision 1 (30 page)

She looked around to see if it was possible to get higher, and that’s when she saw it, a name scratched into the rock face: Kevin Ipswich. The wind and the sand had softened the edges, but the letters were unmistakable. Mira ran her fingers across them, and she imagined her father being in this very spot so long ago. This is how far he had made it, and he must have found the same path to get here.

Taking out the screwdriver she always carried with her, she scratched her first name under his. She dug as deeply as she could so that those names would remain long into the future. She decided she had gone far enough, and so she looked for a way down after she finished writing. It was a long way down to the sandy floor.

“How do I get down?” she asked.

Fortst motioned to catch her, and she let her toes hang over the edge. The lullaby had left her, and now jumping down seemed like a terrifying proposition. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and jumped. She felt Fortst’s arms around her seconds later, and he set her down.

“I’m impressed,” Fortst said. “Looks like you take the cake today.”

“I would’ve tried harder if I knew there’d be cake,” Chucky grumbled.

No one else found the spot where she had started her climb, though Mira had a feeling someone knew.

“Thank you, for that,” she said to Roselyn as they prepared to leave.

“For what?” she replied with a cool smile.

“You know what it is right, your power? There’s this little spot in your brain just behind the forehead that controls emotion. It’s called the hypothalamus, and your notes reach it,” Mira said.

“Is that so?” Roselyn replied. “I just like to think I bring out the best in people.”

Returning home proved to be much easier with the wind at their backs and a solid grasp of which direction they needed to take. It seemed especially easy to Mira, who still enjoyed the satisfaction of her achievement that day. Maybe it would translate into a better result at the Final Trial. It might also mean the others would finally see her as a serious contender, and they would try harder to knock her out as a result. Only time would tell, though little time remained.

An orange sun hung low in the sky by the time the group returned to the schoolhouse. Everyone yearned for a hot meal and a chance to wash away the sand that caked their skin. Spending a long time in bed sounded like a good idea too.

“Ok, troops!” Fortst called when everyone had arrived. “We’re just a few days away from the end. Our last day of class will be tomorrow, during which the Team Trial captains will deliver the order for the Final Trial. After that you will have three days of personal training before the Vernal Equinox and the Final Trial. Understood? Good, now get out of here.”

“I can’t believe tomorrow’s the last day,” Mary said to Mira as they walked down the forest path. Flowering plants littered the ground, and the tree blossoms were coming into full bloom.

“I know,” Mira muttered. She certainly couldn’t believe it. Though she’d only been there for six months, she could never imagine leaving or what would come after.

***

In what seemed like a flash, the next day arrived and the students returned to their desks for the last time. Mira felt a fondness for her worn desk and the ratty schoolhouse; somehow the thought of leaving it behind made it beautiful and precious. She pondered how the other students must have felt. Vern, Aoi, Roselyn, Mary, Will, and all the rest had grown up together in these schoolhouses sitting at the end of criss-crossing forest paths. A few stared blankly at the walls, moments from their lives no doubt skipping through their heads.

Even Fortst displayed a wistful melancholy. He wore the same thick trench coat as ever, but he betrayed his gruff exterior when his voice choked up.

“I tried to do my best by you. I did. It wasn’t always easy, but I hope when the time comes I taught you something that helps you. Just remember this, you can’t measure a life by its successes or failures. It’s the spirit that matters. Keep your friends at heart, and work for their good at all costs.”

He stopped for a moment, and the class sat in silence. He looked at each of them, displaying a sense of surprise at finding them matured. What did days ahead have in store for them? Though no one showed any signs of discomfort, Ogden Fortst felt compelled to bring the class to its final motion.

“Will the captains report the order of their teams? Roselyn?”

Slowly rising from her seat, the class could see that Roselyn bore the heaviest burden of them all. Her eyes were red and tears ran down her cheeks. She had been asked to deliver a list of five names, but instead the only thing that could come through her lips was song. The melody was simple but sweet, and it spoke to them all of the hardships they endured, the joys they experienced, and the memories they cherished. The last note trailed off, and even their hearts seemed to slow in the hopes of holding onto it.

“Jeremy, Mary, Will, Roselyn,” and here she cast a glance to Vern, but his face displayed no mockery or malice, “and Gerald.”

“Very well. Aoi?”

Aoi quickly rose from her seat, the one Mira had repaired. She looked around at her fellow students. Her face had a thoughtful and compassionate quality to it that she rarely showed.

“I just want to say I’m sorry. Chucky, Mira, Rowland, Andrew, and Aoi.”

“Very well,” Fortst said again as she returned to her seat. “Vern?”

But Vern had already stood up. His desk was near the side of the classroom, and so he could easily turn to address his classmates.

“It’s been a long road getting here, hasn’t it? Our Final Trial is finally here, and I know we’ll all pour our hearts into it. I’ve been class leader for a long time, but whether or not that continues doesn’t matter. I know we’ll be in good hands and we’ll work together no matter what happens. Oh, boy. Is it time? All right. Here goes. Kurt, Sophie, Dot, Dennis, and Vern.”

“Very well. Each of you will enter the grounds of the final trial one-minute after the one before. The last student standing will be declared class leader. We’ll be meeting at the meadow grounds near the first year house at dawn on Sunday morning. Don’t be late. Ok, that’s it everyone. Empty your desks and take everything with you when you leave, use your time wisely, and I’ll see you Sunday morning.”

Though he had clearly dismissed them, no one got up from their chairs. Fortst, taken aback, scratched his neck and squinted at the students. He took a step around the podium, stopped, considered repeating himself, decided against it, took another step, stopped, and then walked down the center aisle and exited the schoolhouse.

The students began to empty their desks at a slow, lethargic pace. Mira removed her notebooks, pencils, screwdrivers, nuts, and hammer. She emptied them into her bag, peeking into the desk to see if she had gotten everything. She had, and she felt sad that it was like she had never been there. The other students began to get up and mill about. No one seemed anxious to leave.

“Hey, do you remember when we were second or third graders, and we used to sneak up here and pretend we were seniors?” Will asked.

“Yes,” Mary laughed. “How did this place seem so mysterious and enchanting?”

“There’s only one reasonable explanation,” Will said.

“And what’s that?” Dot asked.

“We were dumb kids,” Will explained, and everyone laughed.

“Some things never change,” Roselyn teased. “There’s still some mystery here though. I’ll never figure out how this decrepit shack is still standing.”

“What do you think, one more game for old time’s sake?” Will said, reaching into his bag and pulling out his sack of Makara dice.

“Why not?” Mary replied. The students pulled some desks together and sat down. Will rolled the dice, which turned up a mouth, a fish, a chair, a tree, water, lightning, and a blank. Mira leaned over to see what came up.

“Make him lick the desk,” she said.

“But this is Dennis’s desk…and it’s still warm!” Will cringed to everyone’s amusement.

Smiling, Mira left them to their game. She grabbed her bag and walked through the door. A few students were sitting in the shade, talking and joking. On the other side of the clearing, Mira saw Chucky taking the path home, and she hurried to catch up with him.

“Chucky, wait up!”

He stopped and turned, confused.

“What? What is it?”

“Hey, I need your help with something. Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure,” he said, without hesitation. “What can I do?”

“Actually, I need some of your oil,” she said, pulling a glass bottle out of her bag. “This much would do. Is that ok?”

“No problem,” he said.

“Really? Great. Wow, thank you so much,” she said. Mira expected to have to make another deal or answer a bunch of questions, and so Chucky’s reaction brought her some relief. They agreed on a time and a place to meet before the final and then walked together down the path.

“Are you sad to be finished here,” she asked.

“It was good for what it was,” he said. “But I’m hoping for bigger and better things in the future.”

“That’s a good attitude to have,” Mira said.

They parted ways in town, and Mira turned to take the road home. She walked through her front door, and took a seat on a comfy chair. Without school to go to, it seemed for a second like nothing had changed from when everything in her world existed within walls of mist. But moments later she remembered all the work she needed to do and the precious little time in which to do it.

***

When she wasn’t working on her creations in her basement laboratory, Mira spent her free time in the following days preparing in every way she could. She wrote detailed strategies on what she should do if she turned a corner and ran into any of her competitors. She frequently talked with her parents about their experiences and how to deal with being the seventh one to start. She also went out for long runs in the woods, with her father tagging along.

“I thought your father was with you?” Jeana asked when Mira slipped in through the sliding glass door.

“He’s coming. Don’t worry.”

They looked back through the glass pane at Kevin, who jogged in like a wounded dog. Sweat drenched his shirt, his face was red, and he gasped for breath.

“I let you win. Trying to build up your confidence for the weekend,” he said, collapsing onto the floor.

“Thanks,” Mira said. “I’ll need all the confidence I can get.”

“You’ll be fine,” Jeana said. “Just remember there is a time to fight and a time to run.”

“Oh! Speaking of time, I have to go meet Chucky.”

Mira grabbed a bulky bag and in the next moment the front door closed, signaling her exit. Still looking a little flushed from the run, she walked down to the outpost. She saw Chucky standing in the marketplace, right where they had agreed and at exactly the right time. He held the jar, full of goopy jelly, in his hands.

“I hope it wasn’t too difficult to do,” Mira said.

“Not at all. I’ve got to start getting myself into better shape anyway. It helps to have a plan of attack.”

“Yes,” Mira agreed. “And this should help as well.”

She reached into her bag and pulled out a silver helmet. Dings speckled the surface, but it looked like it would fit. She even glued some padding on the inside and the edges so it wouldn’t rub.

“I think you’re going to turn some heads this weekend,” she said, handing the helmet to him.

“And now I might even avoid cracking open my own in the process,” he said. “Here. I hope this stuff does whatever you need it to. Most often it ends up just getting in the way.”

She took the jar in her hands and held it up to her eyes. She felt confident it would do what she needed it to. Chucky’s look caught her attention though, and she dropped the jar into her bag. It looked like he had something else he wanted to say, but nothing would come out. Some people brushed by them, causing Mira to look over at the Darmen Exchange office. Yannick wasn’t there, and she wondered what happened to him.

“Good luck,” Chucky said at last. And he meant it.

“Thanks, you too. I’ll see you before the sun comes up the day after tomorrow,” she said.

Chucky watched her turn and walk away. She maneuvered through the crowd and out of the gate. Now that she was gone, he thanked her for being a friend to him, for caring and trying to help him when no one else did. Disappointed, he kicked his foot against the dirt.

***

Long bouts of optimism and despair gripped Mira in turn over the coming days. In some moments, the glory of victory was already a foregone conclusion, but she moped around in others as if she already experienced defeat. She had to laugh at herself and these thoughts that gravitated to the extreme. “Such is the mind,” she would muse to herself.

Still, she couldn’t pull her thoughts away from the mystery of how it would all play out. Listing the variables would never account for all of the possibilities. She tried to anticipate the options, but they were countless. No matter how many plans she prepared, she knew the entire trial would come down to all of those split-second decisions that can never be planned for ahead of time.

Running through the woods, she’d swung by the schoolhouse, half expecting and half hoping to see some of her classmates training. Stillness and silence filled the forest, however. Other than Chucky, she hadn’t seen any of them. She wondered what plans they’d prepared, and if those plans would disrupt her own.