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True Talents(58)

By:David Lubar


“Cheer up,” Cheater said. “You’re one of us.”

He was right. I had a hidden talent—my very own psychic power. Wonderful. What a great gift. I could jab a knife of words into anyone’s heart. I couldn’t see how that would make any difference right now. What good was the power to make people angry? “I don’t get it,” I said. “This won’t help.”

“Use your power in reverse,” Flinch said. “Just like Torchie did when he put out a fire. Instead of finding the thing that hurts the most, find the thing that makes the person feel good.”

This was almost too much for me. “I don’t know if I can.”

“You’ll have to,” Torchie said.

The bell rang. Lunch was over.





MEETING

In prison movies, they talk about the long walk—that’s the one-way stroll the guy takes from his cell to the electric chair. I was taking a long walk from the lunchroom to the principal’s office.

My mind was a blur of thoughts. I had a power. I still only half believed it. It was wonderful and terrible at the same time. And it almost had to be true. How else could I have managed to so deeply annoy so many teachers? Not to mention my parents and just about every other adult who’d ever tried to get close to me.

Lucky had proved it. He’d allowed me to humiliate him in front of the others. Lucky, who in his way was as fiercely proud as Cheater, had done this for me. Whether he cared about Edgeview or not, I had to try to do this for him and for all the rest of them. And for myself.

Could I reverse my power? Could I make someone feel good? I reached the end of the hall and put my hand on the doorknob. Another question caught my attention. Was it right? Was it okay for me to use this power to get what I wanted?

I’d told Cheater it was okay.

But was it?

I stepped into the office. Principal Davis was waiting for me. “Nice shirt,” I said, trying to tell him something that would make him feel good.

He frowned and ignored my comment. I realized it had been a poor attempt. I hadn’t looked into his deepest fears and hopes, I’d just blurted out a dumb compliment.

“In there,” he said, stepping away before I had a chance to get close to him and try again. “And for heaven’s sake, try to be something other than an annoying little monster for once in your life.”

I walked into the room and found the inspectors seated around a table. “Come in,” a man in a brown suit said. “Have a seat.” He was wearing a bow tie. Wonderful.

“Thanks.” I pulled out a chair and sat down, then tried to figure out who was in charge. The leader seemed to be the woman across the table—the one in the gray suit.

“Hello, Martin,” she said as she held out her hand. “I’m Dr. Harper.”

“Hi.” I reached out and took her hand. As our fingers met, I knew what I wanted to say. The knowledge stunned me for a moment. Oh man. It was sitting right in my head. I’d actually seen her deepest failure. She’d spent years trying to get a job with a textbook company, but they kept turning her down. The words formed in my mind. Well, you may never make it to the book company, but you’re probably skilled enough to get a job at a miserable rat hole like Edgeview.

I actually bit my tongue—not hard, but enough to keep the words from spilling out. Dr. Harper gave me an odd look. I realized I was still holding her hand. I let go. As our fingers drew apart, I realized something else. She’d wanted to have children. That was her deepest desire. Past that, I glimpsed one other image buried within her. She was proud of her eyes. She was smart and serious and dedicated and hardworking. But she was also very human and very proud of her eyes.

Other words came to mind, replacing the attack I had almost unleashed. Gee, you have nice eyes. They’re just like my mom’s. It would be so easy. If I said that, she’d have to like me. With the right words, I could get her to do whatever I wanted. I knew for sure I could control her. There wasn’t the slightest doubt in my mind.

A tingle ran through my scalp.

“So, Martin,” Dr. Harper said, “tell us what it’s like for you at Edgeview. Don’t be shy. Tell us everything you think is important. We want to know what’s good and what’s bad about your school.”

I looked around the table. They all sat ready with their pens and clipboards, waiting to hear me speak. The man to my left was close enough that I knew his deepest sorrows and desires. The same for the man on the right. It would be so easy. If I wanted to, I could become their favorite kid in the world just by telling them the things they needed to hear. They’d love me. I’d own them. I faced the woman with the beautiful eyes.