Nada
December 21, 2012
Nada
I can feel the gritty sand under my hands as I hit the ground. My battle partner lies still beside me, his chest barely rising and falling. I reach out, my fingers brushing through his blood-soaked hair, feeling the ragged rise and fall of his breath. The creatures' footsteps grow louder, the sound of their approach heavy and unrelenting. We wait for the final blow, completely spent. Every movement sends a fresh pulse of pain through our battered bodies, blood seeping steadily from our wounds. I shut my eyes and think, Mom, forgive me. You told me to run, but I didn’t listen. The world around me starts to fade away.
September 3, 2012
Sunlight streams through the windows, cutting through the pool's surface, highlighting the rhythm of my strokes. I love swimming early, before the chaos of the swim team arrives. With my eyes closed in the water, it feels like I’m at the center of the universe, my universe. I don’t need to open my eyes to know I’m nearing the edge; I just feel it, flip, and head back. My body glides, my arms break the surface, pushing through the pliable liquid, brushing my thigh, rising into the air, and starting over again. The rhythm of my breathing, alternating between water and air, sets a gentle beat for my heart. It’s comforting, especially today. Lately, I keep having that weird feeling, like when it seems like someone is watching or following you and my sleep’s been a mess. Maybe it’s the loneliness making me paranoid. This morning swim helps me relax and lifts my mood a little.
Suddenly, everything changes, and chaos erupts. I reluctantly pull myself out of the water. I sit on the pool’s edge for a moment, water dripping from my fingertips, then turn to grab my towel. I keep my goggles on, hoping they’ll at least partially shield me from the cacophony of noise coming from the rowdy crowd of swimmers.
As I’m trying to make my way out as quickly as possible, I sense someone behind me, reaching for my shoulder. I spin around, instantly on the defensive.
«Hey, hey, hey! Easy...» my friend Carrie laughs, raising her hands. «Is it possible you never hear me when I call out to you?»
I exhale slowly, not realizing how tense I’d gotten, smile at her, and gesture for her to wait a second. I pull off my swim cap and remove my earplugs.
«Sorry C, I forgot to take these out... What's up?»
She shrugs and then nods toward the windows above the pool that overlook the school hallway.
«Did you see who just arrived? I heard he starts tomorrow... and he's ridiculously cute!» Carrie gushes. When it comes to guys, she's always enthusiastic.
I cautiously turn and spot the principal talking to a couple of parents standing next to a tall, lean guy with dark hair and an easy smile.
Carrie shifts, turning her back to the pool so we can sneak a look.
I sigh, watching as she effortlessly adjusts her perfect curls, which frame her smooth, deep-toned shoulders. Her confidence is something I can never quite understand. I can't help but wonder, once again, why someone like her would want to be friends with someone as plain as me.
«Who is this guy, anyway?» I ask, not really interested.
«His dad is the famous Hawaiian artist Kalai Kekoa, and his mom is the Japanese author Riko Shirabe. I know you like them both!»
«Oh, right... Well, you know how this is gonna go. The school's royalty will pull him into their clique, and he won't give us a second glance without their approval. At least, he won't notice me, but you seem to have caught McAllen's attention, haven't you?» I say, giving her a wink.
She giggles, a little embarrassed, and lowers her eyes. «I know you don’t trust that group, but they’re not so bad when you get to know them... They’re just kids who haven’t figured out their place in the world yet.»
Gosh, she’s so sweet! I smile at her. «I think you picked the right major, you’re going to be an amazing psychologist! I just worry they might hurt you. Like my mom always says, a confused kid can be unpredictable...»
She laughs. «Nah, you’re just too suspicious!»
«And you’re too trusting! Together, we make one balanced person,» I laugh.
I glance back at the guy, and something unexpected catches my eye. He’s talking to the principal, but the waves coming from his voice and body are unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. They’re bright, almost glowing, and take on a strange shape. I can’t make sense of it. Mom warned me, right up until the day she died: If the waves ever turn to images, run. But these aren’t images, they’re something else, and they terrify me.
«You’ve gone pale... is everything okay?» My best friend's voice pulls me out of my fear.
I turn to her and say, «Well, someone’s keeping me out here in the cold...» I laugh, pretending to be annoyed.
Just as she's about to respond, I see the swim coach calling her out with a sarcastic tone. «Princess, would you be so kind as to join us... NOW!»
She rolls her eyes and makes a funny face, and we both struggle to keep from laughing. Then she turns around, «Sorry, Coach, I'm coming!»
I quickly head toward the locker rooms, but not before glancing back at the windows one more time, only to find that the four of them are already gone.
I jump into the shower, hoping to wash away that lingering sense of alarm. As the water cascades over my face, I try to make sense of what I saw. I’m just too wound up lately, seeing danger in everything. I hear my mom’s voice in my head: «Think, Nada, use your mind. Your ability to read sound waves and vibrations is unique, and no one else can help you understand what you're seeing, only you can.»
Yeah, it’s probably just the guy’s Hawaiian accent or maybe his voice is unusually melodic... or both. I take a deep breath and try to push it out of my mind.
I step out of the shower and start drying off. The locker room is silent, echoing the emptiness as I towel off. The reflection in the mirror stings a bit, I see echoes of Mom and Dad in my face. Mom’s full lips, Dad’s pointed nose, and those dimples in my cheeks. I remember Dad chasing me around, pretending to be the witch from Hansel and Gretel: «Come here, little one, let me taste those chubby cheeks!» My vision blurs every time I think of their laughter, their endless love. It’s been nearly a year since the accident, but no amount of time could lessen the ache of missing them.
I rub my palms over my eyes, wiping away the tears. Once I'm dry, I get dressed. I slip my headphones on, using them to tame my unruly hair that never seems to behave. I don’t actually listen to the music, being deaf since birth, but at least they give me an excuse for missing when someone calls my name. I learned to speak by mimicking the sound waves I could see, just like other kids mimic the sounds they hear.
I keep my deafness a secret, just like don’t tell people my ability to read sound waves. My mom was always strict about keeping it that way. Personally, I’ve never thought it was anything special, in fact, I’ve always secretly felt like this ability was a curse that brought me nothing but trouble. But I respect her wishes and do my best to stay under the radar.
I sit on the grass outside the school, soaking up the sun as I eat the breakfast I brought from home. I'm also trying to finish the book I started this morning on the bus. I love reading, getting swept away to places I've never been and living a thousand different adventures, each one more exciting than my own.
When the noise starts picking up, I know it’s time to head inside for class. I gather my things and put on the special glasses my engineer dad made for me. They help me filter the waves I need to read, so I don’t get overwhelmed. With my eyes still on the last few pages of my book, I move quietly through the crowded hallways, dodging rowdy students like a human radar. Every now and then, I catch a few pitying glances, as if I’m just another one of the weirdos roaming these halls.
As I'm about to reach the entrance to English class, I spot Margot, our modern-day Blair Waldorf, surrounded by her clique of minions. As always, she's dressed to perfection, every inch of her radiating the kind of trouble only her can cause. She usually doesn’t even notice me, I doubt she even knows my name, but yesterday I had the audacity to score higher than her on the history test, and I know she’s out for payback. I pretend not to see her, keeping my eyes glued to my book and my headphones firmly in place.
Just as I pass by her, I sense her hand reaching out, aiming to yank off my headphones. In a split second, I drop down, pretending to tie my shoes as if I hadn't noticed anything, leaving her hand hanging awkwardly in midair. The surprised look on her face is priceless. I faintly hear her friend Kelly whisper, «Oh, that’s embarrassing!»
Margot whirls around, furious, and snaps at the unfortunate girl, «WHAT DID YOU SAY?»
The other girl looks around, confused. «Me? I didn’t say anything...»
I struggle to keep a straight face, Kelly was right, but it was me who said it. I should seriously consider a career as a ventriloquist impersonator. I can emit any kind of wave, even with my mouth closed.
The queen bee, even more enraged, insists, «I heard you loud and clear!»
Meanwhile, I stand up and casually slide my headphones off one ear. «Did you say something?» I ask innocently, but Margot is too busy punishing her minion to pay any attention to me.
I shrug and slip quickly into the classroom.
My friend Rob slides up next to me, chuckling. «I saw what you did. Poor Kelly...»
«Hey, whose side are you on?» I say, giving him a wink.
He leans in slightly, lowering his voice. «I found three traffic cameras near your house. I hacked them, and they’re all yours now. Just sent you an email with the details and links.» He grins, looking pleased with himself as we settle into our seats.
«My hero! You’re an evil genius, and I owe you big time...»
«Don't even mention it! After all the times you've helped me...»
«If you say so, then we’re even.» I reply, giving him a playful wink just as the teacher walks in.
«Alright, class, I'm pleased with your work. Your essays have shown some improvement... and wipe that grin off your face, Mr. McAllen, I said some improvement.» the teacher says as he starts handing back the papers, going row by row.
As expected, I got an A-. From the other row, Margot leans over with a smug smile, pointing at my grade and showing off her A+. I lower my eyes, not looking to start any trouble. Meanwhile, the teacher starts talking about Hughes, and I let myself get lost in that world of words.
Class ends, but as I’m heading out, the teacher calls after me, «Nada, could you stay for a moment?»
«Of course, Mr. Walcott. Is something wrong?»
«No, not at all. You’re a model student, always attentive, your assignments are punctual and flawless, and even though you don’t say much, I suspect you know a lot more than you let on, don’t you?» He smiles at me. He’s young and good-looking, and I honestly have no idea what he’s trying to get at.
I return his smile, feeling a bit nervous.
«I mean, I’ve only known you since you transferred here last September, but you’re so sharp that it’s hard to believe you don’t always get straight A’s. And yet, sometimes you make these really basic mistakes that, if it weren’t so unlikely, I’d almost think you were doing it on purpose. I even spoke to your other teachers, and I noticed the same slight fluctuations in your performance in their classes. While they don’t seem too concerned, I wanted to ask if there’s something going on.»
I lower my eyes. Nosy… And what am I supposed to tell him? That when you grow up in a paranoid family where the motto is don’t stand out, getting straight A+’s isn’t exactly ideal? I know I could ace every subject, but... I sigh.
«No, sir, you’re overestimating me! I appreciate your concern, but the truth is, the topics you give us are so engaging that I get carried away and forget to double-check the details. I get distracted easily.» I smile at him, hoping I sound convincing.
He looks at me thoughtfully. «Mmh, are you sure this doesn’t have anything to do with your rivalry with Margot? I saw the look she gave you today. That girl can be pretty intimidating at times, but you can tell me, it stays between us...»
Thank the gods of Olympus! He has no idea that Margot is the least of my worries.
«Well, Margot can be annoying sometimes, but I don’t get scared that easily. Anyway, thanks for being there, I’ll definitely know who to come to if I ever have any issues.» I try to put on my most reassuring smile.
«I’m counting on it. My door is always open.»
The rest of the school day goes by smoothly, and I head toward the bus stop. As I wait, Carrie pulls up in her car.
«Hop in, I’ll give you a ride home,» she says, gesturing with her hand.
«Aren’t you supposed to have practice today?» I ask as I climb in.
She winks. «Day off...»
«A luxury!» We both laugh.
«Actually, can you drop me off at the store near my house? I need to pick up a few things for Auntie...» I say with a sigh.
«Uh, yeah, the store! I love that place... It's been a while since we’ve gone there together. Is your aunt making something delicious for dinner?»
«Probably, she always cooks good stuff... but she’s not Mom... Still, at least she doesn’t nag too much.»
Carrie gives me a quick glance. «You miss your mom a lot, don’t you? I can’t even imagine what it’s like to lose your parents. You’re really strong to hold it all together like you do... As annoying as mine can be, I don’t know what I’d do if I lost them. I wouldn’t be as brave as you... though I wouldn’t mind sending them on a vacation every now and then.» she says, and we both laugh.
«I don’t know, it’s not really about being brave; it’s about surviving... I just have to keep going. I owe it to them, in a way, I’m their continuation... Plus, Auntie’s dinners are actually pretty comforting.» I smile, though there’s a hint of sadness in it, but I don’t want her to feel sorry for me.
She smiles back and, still watching the road, gives my arm a gentle, affectionate squeeze.
«Speaking of dinner, my mom wants to have you over one of these nights. What do you think?»
«I don’t know, you know I’m a bit hesitant to leave Auntie alone at night. She’s over seventy, not exactly a spring chicken...» It’s a good excuse to cover up my reluctance to socialize.
«I figured you’d say that, but I’ll remind you that you promised to come with me to Gordon’s party next Saturday. Rob’s going too, and it’s a big deal. So, you can come over for dinner, we’ll get ready together, and then head to the party... Saying no is not an option!»
I sigh, staring at my shoes as if I’ve never seen them before. I know resistance is futile. «Okay, you win.» I mutter, already dreading the party «Dinner and the party it is. And thank your mom for the invite.»
By this time, we’ve arrived at the store. It’s an old house, with half of it converted into a shop filled with spices from all over the world and items with labels in languages I can’t even recognize. The elderly woman behind the counter reminds me of Mom in ways that catch me off guard, her amber skin, the streaks of gray through her dark hair, and the small red dot on her forehead. She always greets me warmly and takes the list Auntie prepared. We wander around, browsing for the oddest things we can find. Then, we pick up the little package with Auntie’s items that the shopkeeper has prepared for me, and head out.
Carrie drops me off at my doorstep. I’ve lived here for over a year now, but I still find myself surprised at how this quirky building looks so small from the outside yet feels incredibly spacious and cozy inside. As soon as I walk in, I’m hit by a wave of spicy aromas and the familiar vibrations coming from the kitchen.
«Nada, priya, did you get everything?» I hear her call out.
I follow her voice into the fragrant kitchen. I hand the package to Auntie, who’s busy managing the pots on the stove. She claps her hands as she opens the paper, like it’s a present she has no idea about. «Well, well, dear. And how’s our Carrie? Still driving that tiny car?»
I’ve never figured out how she always knows who I’m with and how I got home while she’s stuck in the kitchen, I’m convinced she has a hidden camera somewhere. «Yep, she’s still got the Fiat 500, and yes, she’s doing great…»
«And how was your day at school?» she asks, still stirring her pots.
«Same as usual… and I got an A- in English Lit.»
She pauses for a moment, then goes back to her cooking. «Oh, priya, don’t worry! You’ll do better next time…»
I roll my eyes. Anything less than an A+ and she acts like it’s a disaster. And I can’t even explain why I got that grade. It’s so frustrating! «Yeah, sure, chaachee. I’m going to study now.»
Back in my room, I finish the homework I started earlier before downloading Rob's link to the cameras around the house. That guy is a genius. Thanks to his link, I can monitor the entire block. Now, I just need to connect the program my dad and I designed, which uses the same principle as my ability to sense negative vibrations. What started as a fun project when he was teaching me about his work as an engineer ended up being pretty useful, helping us detect threats during some tough times in the past.
I’ve actually never set it up on my own before, and it would probably be much easier if I could ask Rob for help, but I can’t. I’ve got this, Dad, I’m sure of it. I’ll prove to you that I learned well. I try to ignore the salty tears rolling down my cheeks, and finally, I smile with satisfaction. It should be all set. Now the program will record any anomalies in the area, and we’ll see if this gut feeling I’ve had for the past few weeks is justified.
I change and head down to the basement, where Auntie has her gym. I train every evening in the martial art my mom taught me from the moment I could walk: Kalaripayattu. I have a feeling Auntie knows it too, because when I moved in, the gym was already set up with all the right equipment. Plus, she’s my maternal grandmother’s sister, and Mom always said this art has been passed down through generations in our family. But I’ve only ever seen her do yoga.
After dinner, I check if the program has detected any threats, but so far, nothing. I’m not sure whether to feel relieved or worried about my sanity. I guess it’s best to just go to bed.
