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TEACH
1
"Don't do what?" Manny's beaded dreadlocks
rattled as he turned from his computer
screen to face me. "Sabine, is this dragonfly girl
for real?"
"Of course not." My heart pounded, but I
kept my voice calm as I glanced up from the article
I was proofreading. School had ended, and
except for our teacher, we were the only ones left
in the computer lab. "You asked for prediction
suggestions and I made up some. If you don't like
my ideas, come up with your own."
"It's just a weird thing to say-even for my
Mystic Manny column."
"Use it or don't. Whatever." I leaned forward so
my blond hair fell, partially concealing my face. If
Manny discovered my secret, everything would be
ruined.
"Help me here, okay?" He held out his hands.
"My column goes to press in thirty minutes."
"Use your psychic powers to figure it out."
"Yeah, right." He snorted. "I don't believe that
crap any more than you do."
I gripped my red pencil tightly. "But your readers
believe."
"Nah, most of them know it's just a big joke.
'Manny the Mystic knows all and tells all.' Ha! If I
could predict the future, you think I'd waste my
time at school? No way! I'd pick lottery numbers
and predict a sunny future of wealth, women, and
tropical beaches."
"Get over yourself already." I checked my watch.
"And you have just twenty-seven minutes till deadline."
"Beany, you're one cruel girl."
"Coming from you, I'll take it as a compliment.
And don'tcall me Beany."
"Most girls would be flattered if I gave them a
nickname."
"I'm not most girls. And you have twenty-six
minutes now." I flipped through last week's edition
of the Sheridan Shout-Out. My job was copy editor,
not columnist. Working on commas and misspelled
words suited my new image: helpful and
orderly. After my problems at my last school, it
was a huge relief to blend in like I was normal.
And being on the newspaper made me part of
Sheridan High's "In Crowd" without having to reveal
much about myself-a great arrangement I
wasn't about to risk. Next time Manny asked for
help, I'd shout out a big "NO!"
But Manny didn't give up so easily. He pushed
his dreads back from his forehead and then
scrunched up his face into a pitiful expression.
"Come on, Sabine. You have the best ideas. The
part about a girl with a dragonfly tattoo-genius.
Really, it's a great image-my readers will eat it
up. But I can't just say 'Don't do it' without
knowing what 'it' is."
It. It. It. The word pounded like a headache and
I felt that familiar dizziness. Vivid colors flashed in
my head: crimson red swirling with neon black.
And I heard a wild flapping of wings. Warning of
danger.
Not again, I thought anxiously. I hadn't had a
vision since moving to Sheridan Valley, and I'd figured
I was through with the weirdness. No longer
the freak who knew things before they happened
yet had no power to change them.
The dizziness worsened, and I fought for control.
Stumbling, I grabbed the edge of a table so I
wouldn't fall.
From faraway I heard Manny's voice asking
what was wrong, then the lights in the classroom
flickered and the drone of computers faded to a
distant buzz.
Everything was dark, as if I were swimming in a
murky sea at night. Then a light sparked and grew
brighter and brighter, taking the shape of a girl.
She was stunning, with waves of jet-black hair and
olive skin that glistened like sea mist.
She lifted her hand to the sky, and a tiny purple-
black creature with iridescent wings and quiv-
ering antennae fluttered to her wrist. A dragonfly.
She smiled and caressed the wings. But her smile
froze in horror as the creature changed, becoming
a fanged monster that sank its sharp teeth into her
smooth skin. Blood spurted, swelling like a tide.
The girl opened her mouth to cry for help, but
there only a rush of crimson waves, then she sank
out of sight.
No, no! I tried to scream. But I was helpless to
save her, caught in a dark current of despair that
pulled me down, down, into a pool of blood.
* * *
"Hey, Beany?"
Gasping for breath, I blinked and saw Manny's
black eyes staring at me with concern. The dizziness
passed and my head cleared. "Huh?" I murmured.
"Are you sick or something?" he asked.
Lights grew bright again and I realized I was still
clutching the table. I relaxed my grip. "I'm fine."
Manny gently touched my shoulder. "You don't
look fine. What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Just tired." My breath came fast.
"But you're all trembling."
"Guess that test in calculus wiped me out." I
managed a shaky laugh. "I- I just remembered
someplace I have to go."
"But Beany-"
"Sorry! Talk to you later."
Then I fled-running as if flocks of winged
demons chased after me.
2
By the time I made a sharp left on Lilac Lane,
an unpaved, rutted road, the dark images had faded.
Still, I was left with a stark fear.
When I slipped through the iron gate of Nona's
driveway, my fears eased. The weathered yellow
house had been my touchstone since I was little, a
haven where nothing could get me. I loved Nona's
cozy farmhouse, with its big wraparound porch,
rambling red barn, cows, goats, horses, chickens,
dogs, and cats.
Ten acres of tangled woods stretched far behind
the pasture, bumping up against new developments.
Sheridan Valley used to be a quiet farming town,
but its central location made it an easy commute to
Stockton or Sacramento and the population had
skyrocketed. Still, it maintained a slow pace and
country charm, and I'd been truly happy since moving
here. Even with upscale houses squeezing in
from both sides, Nona's home was my paradise.
And there was Nona. Crouched on her knees in
the garden, a wide straw hat shading her deeplined
face. She'd done so much for me: taking me
in when my parents sent me away, holding me
tight to heal the hidden hurts.
Watching her tend her garden, I longed to rush
into her comforting arms. She knew all about visions
and predictions. She would understand my
anxiety more than anyone. But I couldn't confide
in her-because of the lie.
Sighing, I avoided Nona by doubling around to
the back of the house. Since there was no one I
could talk to, I'd purge my demons with loud music
and a bath of scented bubbles.
As I hurried up the wooden steps, chickens
squawked out of my way and a white cat with
mismatched eyes regarded me solemnly.
"Don't give me that look, Lilybelle. I've had a
bad day and I don't need any of your attitude." I
patted her silky fur and pushed open the screen
door.
There was an odd scent in the air-musty and a
little wild. As I made my way through the laundry
room and kitchen, I tried to identify the unfamiliar
odor. It reminded me of a sunny morning after a
summer storm. Fresh, light, but also a little sultry.
Had Nona concocted a new herbal carpet freshener?
She only used natural cleaners and remedies
like crushed pine needle shampoo, goat's milk soap,
and a honey rose-petal elixir for sore throats. The
smell grew stronger as I walked down the narrow
hall, which was decorated with family pictures:
Mom as a baby, my parents on their wedding day,
and portraits of Nona's three deceased husbands.
A sloshing sound stopped me cold.
From the bathroom. But that wasn't possible.
Nona and I lived alone.
I started down the hall, but then doubled back
to the kitchen to grab a broom-not that I'd need
a weapon, but it wouldn't hurt. Holding it out in
front of me like a sword, I moved cautiously down
the hall. The bathroom door was open a crack, and
through it I could see the sink, filled to the top
with water. And perched on the silver faucet was a
large bird. A falcon! Why was a falcon taking a
bath in my sink?
But the bird wasn't alone.
When I saw the shadowy figure by the hamper, I
was so startled I dropped my broom. The bird
screeched and ruffled its powerful wings. Before I
could scream, the shadowed person lunged for me.
He slapped one arm across my shoulders and
clamped down over my mouth with the other hand.
"Shush!" he ordered in a harsh whisper. "Don't
make a sound."
I struggled, hitting and jabbing with my elbows.
But his grip was firm. He dragged me away from
the bathroom. My shock switched to anger. How
dare this guy attack me in my own home! I kicked
him in leg as hard as I could.
He grunted with pain. "Cut it out!" he cried.
I kicked again, and when he jerked back, his
hand over my mouth loosened, so I bit down.
Hard.
"HEY! That hurt!"
"Good!" I squirmed and slipped out of his
grasp. "I hope I drew blood."
"Geez, you bite worse than a badger." He sucked
his injured hand. "Nona was way off when she told
me about you."
I backed against a wall. "You know my grandmother?"
"Why else would I be here?"
"You tell me! And what's with the bird?" Hugging
myself, I stared, really seeing him for the first
time. He was youngish, maybe seventeen or eighteen.
He was a few inches taller than I was, maybe
five-foot-ten. He was wiry, with muscular arms,
sandy-brown hair and eyes like silver-blue mirrors.
His jeans were dark, and he wore an unbuttoned,
brown flannel shirt over a faded blue T-shirt.
"He's a falcon, and he got oil on his wings, so I
brought him inside to clean up. Sorry if I scared
you," he said.
"I wasn't scared."
"I didn't want you to startle Dagger." He glanced
toward the bathroom where I heard a soft swish of
water.
"You own a falcon?"
"Wild creatures can't be owned. But he trusts
me. If you'd screamed, he would have panicked
and hurt himself. Hey, relax. I'm not going to attack
you."
"Oh, thanks," I said sarcastically. "I am so reassured.
What do you call what just happened? A
friendly handshake?"
"Hey, I'm the one bleeding." He held out his
hand, where a reddish half circle of teeth marks
contrasted his tanned skin. Blood trickled from the
deepest mark.
I ignored his hand and gave him a sizzling look.
"Explain yourself," I demanded. "What are you
doing here?"
"I invited him."
Whirling around, I saw Nona. She still wore her
wide-brimmed straw hat and there was a smudge
of dirt on her cheek.
"You- You did?" I stammered. "But why?"
"Dominic is going to stay here to help with repairs
and care for the animals."
"Why hire someone? I can help you."
"Not in the way he can. So stop scowling and
welcome him, Sabine." Nona smiled. "Dominic is
part of our family now."
