Marilyn Kaye - Gifted - Now You See Me

Jenna sat on one of the orange chairs and stared at the poster. If the rest of her life was going to be like today. .

The policeman sitting next to her interrupted her thoughts.

‘Looks like it’s going to be a while.’

Jenna said nothing.

‘By the way,’ the officer said, ‘my name is Jack. Jack Fisher.’

What was she supposed to say now? He already knew her name. And ‘pleased to meet you’ didn’t seem exactly appropriate, under the circumstances.

‘You’ve been here before,’ he said.

Jenna didn’t look at him as she responded. ‘How did you know?’

‘I’ve read your file,’ he said. ‘I was kind of surprised. .’

This time she actually glanced at him. ‘About what?’

‘You didn’t seem like a repeat offender. Actually, it didn’t seem like you committed much of an offence to begin with. They didn’t find any drugs on you, did they?’

Because I wasn’t doing any drugs, Jenna answered silently. But her response to the cop was simply a shrug.

‘In fact,’ he continued, ‘it sounded to me like your biggest crime was being at the wrong place at the wrong time, with the wrong people. Am I right?’

Again, she only shrugged.

‘I talked to your counsellor at school, that Mr Gonzalez,’ the cop remarked. ‘He said you’ve been doing pretty well at Meadowbrook since you started there.’

This time she didn’t even bother to shrug.

‘So what happened?’ he asked. ‘Why did you have that knife?’

Jenna couldn’t hold back any longer. ‘What do you want me to say, that I was framed?’ she asked. ‘That someone set me up? Isn’t that what all the criminals say?’

Jack Fisher didn’t blink. ‘Sometimes it’s true.’

It wasn’t what she’d expected to hear from him, and for a moment, she was tempted to say more. But what if she came right out and accused Amanda Beeson? What good would that do? Amanda, who came from a ‘good’ family, who was one of the most popular girls at school, versus Jenna Kelley, who lived in a public housing estate, with no father, a recovering-alcoholic mother — a girl with a ‘file’. Who’d come out on top?

But even though Amanda was superficial and selfish and full of herself, it was hard to believe that she could be this downright evil. Then again, if she was spying on their class and working with serious bad guys, it made sense.

Still, it had come as a complete shock, that scene in Jackson’s office. Her mother. . she’d been so upset. Would this incident make her start drinking again?

She could feel tears forming in her eyes. She needed to brush them away, but she didn’t want to call attention to herself.

But Jack Fisher was watching her. ‘Are you feeling sorry about something?’ he asked softly.

Jenna turned to him and spoke fiercely. ‘I’ve got nothing to be sorry for.’ She clenched her fists. If there was anything worse than a regular cop, it was a cop who pretended to care.

A voice from the other end of the lobby called out, ‘Jenna Kelley?’ Jenna rose.

‘Would you like me to come with you?’ the cop asked.

Jenna shook her head. ‘I know the routine.’ She turned her back on Jack Fisher, but he touched her shoulder.

‘I’m the police liaison for Harmony House,’ he told her. ‘So I’ll be seeing you.’

It was on the tip of her tongue to reply, ‘Not if I see you first,’ but all she managed was, ‘Whatever.’ And she took off for the registration ordeal.

Entering the office, she saw that prissy white-haired Ms Landers was still the so-called director, sitting behind a desk. The woman gave her a sad smile.

‘I wish I could say it’s nice to see you again, Jenna.’

Jenna slumped into the seat facing her. She knew what was coming next — the ‘welcome to Harmony House’ speech, which was supposed to assure you that this wasn’t a prison; to consider your stay here as an opportunity to search your heart and soul; to come to an understanding of why you’re here; to exorcise bad habits; to explore other ways of expressing yourself; blah, blah, blah. It was all crap, of course. The prisoners were called ‘residents,’ not inmates, and there were ‘resident assistants’ instead of wardens, but there were bars on the windows and guards stationed at the doors. They called Harmony House a rehabilitation centre, but it was no better than a prison.

After the speech came the rules, and those hadn’t changed either. The demerit system — any infraction of the rules would result in demerits, issued by the resident assistants. The accumulation of demerits would result in the loss of privileges.

Girls were confined to one side of the building, boys to the other, and the only interaction would talk place at mealtimes or in the TV lounge or at scheduled ‘activities’. Jenna recalled a compulsory ‘disco night’ and shuddered. No phone calls or visitors the first forty-eight hours, which was fine with Jenna — she wasn’t feeling very sociable.

When the director finally finished her speech, Jenna thought she’d be released to go to her room, but she’d forgotten another Harmony House ritual.

‘Now, you’ll see Doctor Paley for your intake interview,’ Landers informed her.

There hadn’t been a ‘Dr Paley’ the last time she was here. It had been a Dr Colby then. But now that she’d been reminded of it, Jenna knew what was coming.

Dr Paley was a smiling, plump, bald man in a white coat.

‘Hello, Jenna,’ he said jovially. Jenna grunted in return. Dr Paley didn’t seem dismayed — she figured he probably never got much more than a grunt from the young people he dealt with here.

With a nurse by his side, he listened to Jenna’s heart, took her pulse and blood pressure, looked in her ears and down her throat — all the usual stuff. Everything must have checked out OK, because he kept smiling.

When he finished, he told the nurse that she could leave, and invited Jenna to take a seat across from him at his desk.

‘Let’s have a little chat,’ he said, opening a folder, which Jenna presumed was her file. Jenna didn’t bother to stifle her groan. The last time she’d been here the doctor had only been interested in her physical state. This was something new.

‘You’re a shrink,’ she muttered.

His perpetual smile broadened. ‘Well, I’m a medical doctor who specializes in mental as well as physical health. I provide therapy for the residents here.’

‘There’s nothing mentally wrong with me,’ Jenna declared. ‘I’m not crazy.’

‘You don’t have to be crazy to benefit from therapy,’ the doctor said. ‘You’ve been sent here, to Harmony House, which indicates that you have some problems that need to be examined and resolved. I believe the best way to deal with problems like yours is to talk about them.’

Yeah, like you have any idea what my real problems are, Jenna thought bitterly.

The questions started.

‘How’s life at home, Jenna?’

‘Fine.’

‘I see that your mother’s been through a rehabilitation programme. How do you feel about that?’

‘Fine.’

‘And I see you started a new school recently. How is that going for you?’

‘Fine.’

‘Have you made friends there?’

‘Fine. . I mean, yes.’

He turned a page in her file. ‘I see you’re taking geometry, English, geography. .’ he paused. ‘What’s this “gifted” class?’

Jenna sat up straighter. ‘It’s just this little special class for kids who are. . gifted.’

‘Gifted in what way?’

Jenna tried not to squirm. ‘Different ways.’

‘What’s your gift? Are you a computer genius? Do you play a musical instrument?’

‘No. It’s not that kind of a gift.’ She knew he wouldn’t be satisfied with that, so she tried to remember what she’d once heard Tracey tell someone. ‘Actually, I don’t know why they call it “gifted”. Each student has something — something sort of unusual going on. Like one guy, he’s in a wheelchair. And there’s another guy who used to be a big athlete, but he had an accident and he can’t play sports any more.’