Marilyn Kaye - Gifted - Now You See Me

‘Thank you, dear,’ her mother said humbly. Tracey left and went up to her room. She had some thinking to do before she made her next move to fulfil her promise to Jenna.

OK, so Jackson was the major bad guy at Meadowbrook, the numero uno villain. But how was he getting his information about the gifted students? Someone was telling him what went on in class.

Tracey refused to even consider the notion that Madame would betray her students. The teacher was beyond any suspicion, and she was sure her classmates would agree with her. So it had to be one of them. From what she knew, and what she’d observed, she could eliminate herself, Jenna, Emily, Amanda, Sarah, Ken, Martin and Charles. Which only left Carter.

But how could Carter be a spy? The boy didn’t speak, he didn’t write, he couldn’t communicate at all. He was practically a zombie.

She searched her memory for what she knew about him. Supposedly, he was found wandering on Carter Street. He carried no identification and the police had no reports of any missing boy who fitted his description. Social Services had taken over his care and he’d been placed in a foster home. That was all she knew.

From her desk drawer, she retrieved the Meadowbrook Middle School Directory, and looked up his name. The foster family was called Granger, and they lived not too far from her own home.

The address turned out to be a medium-sized, very ordinary looking cottage-style house on a tree-lined street. The sun was setting and the lights were on inside. She waited on the front steps for a while, but no one came in or out. Fortunately, the curtains weren’t drawn, so she walked around the house and peeked in at each window.

She found Carter in what was clearly the dining room of the house. He was sitting at a table with two other young boys, a man and a woman. She assumed the adults were the Grangers. The two younger boys didn’t look at all alike, nor did they look like the adults, so she thought they might be foster children too.

The Grangers certainly fed their foster kids well. The table was laden with food — roast beef, bowls of vegetables, a big tossed salad. She couldn’t hear any conversation, but she could see lips moving as the family talked. It seemed to her that they were having a lively conversation. Of course, Carter wasn’t participating in it. He ate, slowly and rhythmically, but he stared straight ahead, not making eye contact with anyone else at the table. It was the same way he behaved at school. She saw the woman bend over and speak to him, but Carter didn’t respond.

It dawned on her that she was hungry. Eating while invisible wasn’t easy. Even if she could get herself inside the house without anyone noticing a door opening, she couldn’t very well join them for their meal. There were too many people at the table and someone was bound to notice if food started to disappear.

So she stood there, suffering hunger pangs, and waited for the meal to end. Only, what did she expect to happen after that? The boys would probably watch a little television and go to bed. There wouldn’t be much to see through the windows. She had to find a way to get inside the house and into Carter’s room. Maybe there she’d find something interesting about Carter, some clue as to whether or not Carter had a secret life as a spy.

Fortunately, when dinner was over and the table was being cleared, she observed the woman saying something to Carter again. He got up and left the dining room. Skipping over to the next window, Tracey could see him scraping leftovers from the plates into the trash bin in the kitchen. Then he took out the garbage-packed liner and went to the back door.

Tracey hurried to position herself by the back door and as soon as Carter opened it she slipped inside. While Carter took the garbage to the outdoor bin, she did a quick survey of the kitchen. A platter of leftover roast beef slices hadn’t been put away yet.

A benefit of being invisible meant she didn’t have to think about manners. She snatched up a slice of meat and practically crammed the whole piece in her mouth. Then she took a second slice. Mrs Granger came in and picked up the platter. Looking at the remains of the meat, her brow furrowed for a minute, as if she’d realized there was less there than she thought there should be. Finally, she shrugged and wrapped the slices.

Carter returned.

‘Could you help me load the dishwasher, Carter?’ the woman asked.

Carter didn’t say yes or no, but he opened the door of the dishwasher and began loading items. He was just like he was at school, obeying without communicating.

Tracey left the kitchen and went down a hall which she presumed would lead to bedrooms. One bedroom held a big double bed, and she assumed that was the master bedroom. Another bedroom had bunk beds and toys strewn on the floor.

She decided that the third bedroom must be Carter’s. It held one single bed, a desk, a bureau and a bookshelf. Everything was impeccably neat and tidy.

With no one else in there, she had the freedom to open drawers. All she found there were clothes. Desk drawers contained pencils, a ruler, ordinary school stuff. She couldn’t find any notes or letters.

Next, she checked the books on the shelves. She tried to remember if she’d ever seen Carter reading, but no image came to mind. Actually, the books all looked pretty new and untouched. She opened a few in the half-hearted hope she might find a note tucked inside, but she had no luck.

It was frustrating. There had to be something in this room but she couldn’t tear it apart and make a mess. She’d have to wait until Carter came in and hope he would reveal something to her. To pass the time, she took one of the books from the shelf, a biography of Helen Keller. Maybe the Grangers had given it to him in the hope that he might find something in common with a person who overcame disabilities. She sat at Carter’s desk, and started to read.

Once she sat down, she realized how exhausted she was. It had been a long day. The life of Helen Keller was intriguing but Tracey was too tired to get caught up in it. She put her head on the desk and closed her eyes.

It was amazing how easily she fell asleep in such an uncomfortable position. When she opened her eyes the room was completely dark. Rising from the chair, she saw Carter in bed, sound asleep.

The whole house was silent — everyone must be asleep, she thought. The bedside clock told her it was midnight. Well, at least she could get out without anyone seeing a door open by itself. She just hoped there was no alarm system.

Suddenly, making barely a sound, Carter sat up in bed. For a second, Tracey thought he was looking straight at her and that maybe she’d become visible. A glance at the mirror over the bureau told her that this hadn’t happened.

Carter got out of bed and gathered up the clothes he’d been wearing earlier. Politely, Tracey averted her eyes while he dressed. He then walked out of the room.

Was he sleepwalking? Tracey wondered. She followed him down the hall and into the living room. Silently, he opened the front door.

On the street in front of the house, a black car was waiting. A man stepped out from the driver’s side, and without speaking, he opened the back door. Carter got in, with Tracey close behind.

The driver took off. He said nothing to Carter and he seemed to know where he was going. The ride took about twenty minutes and brought them to a residential area on the other side of town. The car pulled up in front of a house on a tree-lined street. Again, the driver got out and opened the door.

Carter walked to the front door. Tracey hung back for a moment, to get a good look at the house so she could identify it later. It was white, smaller than Charles’s home, but well kept and nice looking.