Maureen Johnson - The Madness Underneath

There was a high-pitched reply from somewhere in the house.

“Come down for a moment, won’t you?” She left the door cracked open and returned to her seat. I could hear a quick patter of footfall on the steps, and then a girl appeared in the door. She was very tall and very slender, with short silvery white-blond hair. Despite the chill, she wore a shift dress that exposed much of her very long legs. Her bony knees had scratches on them, like a little child’s knees. As a concession to the weather, she wore a cropped denim jacket and a pair of short boots.

“This is Devina,” Jane said.

“Hello.” Devina’s voice was high and light. Pixie-like.

“Is Mags in, darling? Or Jack?”

“Just me right now.”

“Devina also lives here,” Jane explained. “In fact, several people live here. The house has seven bedrooms and I find I can only sleep in one at a time. So I had the idea to share the house with people like us. Call it a home for the exceptionally sighted. Devina, be a dear and put that casserole in the oven? Rory needs a proper meal.”

Devina went to the fridge and pulled out a big blue casserole dish. I was staying for lunch, apparently.

“You cannot go back to Bristol,” Jane said, putting her hand on the table to mark her pronouncement. “You cannot go back to America. You need to be with people who understand, and people who can teach you. No one’s even taught you about your ability, have they? No. You must stay here. There’s another empty room upstairs. That one will be yours.”

“I can’t,” I said. “My parents…”

“Don’t know and won’t understand. They certainly won’t give permission for you to stay in a stranger’s house after you’ve been asked to leave school. You need to do something a bit bold and brave. You need to take things into your own hands. You need to leave.”

“You mean, like, run away?”

“I mean precisely that. It’s the only way. These are exceptional circumstances, and this is the answer to your problem. Thank goodness you came here in time.”

“It really is,” Devina said, nodding in agreement.

When you hear about people running away, I always imagined it just like that…like, they take off physically running into the night. I hate running, and I never really wanted to leave home, so the concept was entirely foreign to me.

“I know this is quite a lot to take on board, Rory, but if you’re brave and do this tonight, tomorrow will be the start of a wonderful new life. A life without lies. A life that makes sense.”

“Tonight?”

“It has to be tonight,” Jane said. “It sounds like they’ve already set the wheels in motion for you to be returned to your parents. It will be much harder after that. They’ve given you a night of freedom to think. You need to take advantage of it. And you’ll have us helping you. You’re not the first person I’ve helped.”

“She helped me,” Devina said. “Saved my life, coming here.”

“It doesn’t have to be permanent,” Jane said. “But, Rory, believe me, it’s easier when you’re part of a group. When you’re with people who understand. And we understand. It’s up to you, of course, but I speak from experience. So does Devina.”

It’s possible that I have a higher tolerance for crazy talk than most people because of my background. I’ve channeled multi-colored angels with my cousin and gone for discount waxes with my grandmother. I know two people who have started their own religions. One of my neighbors was arrested for sitting on top of the town equestrian statue dressed as Spider-Man. He just climbed up there with a few loaves of bread and tore them up and threw bread at anyone who got near him. Another neighbor puts up her Christmas decorations in August and goes caroling on Halloween to “fight the devil with song.” That’s just what things are like back home. While there were certain to be people back home who would fully accept my tales of seeing ghosts, they were also the same people who tended to see Jesus in their pancakes.

I could see this version of my future all too well. I would be fully absorbed into the crazy wavelength of Bénouville. Left to my native kind, I would get strange. But Jane was well-adjusted. She clearly had a happy and successful life. I didn’t know much about Devina, but she looked happy too. They looked normal. And nothing, nothing was sweeter than that. Jane was right—there was no other solution. This was the juncture, and I had to make a decision. Home, where my brain would go soft and I would forever wonder about what I was…or here, where I could at least learn something. And I could stay around Stephen and Callum and Boo.

I could even join them, on their own terms.

The light seemed to grow warm around us at the table.

“How?” I said. “I don’t know how to run away here, I mean, I know that sounds stupid, but…do I just not go back?”

“You don’t go back,” she said, “but we muddy your tracks. Who knew you came here?”

“Just Charlotte.”

“Good. Now, did you use your Oyster card to get here?”

“Yes.”

“Did you buy it with a credit card or cash?”

“My debit card…”

The Oyster card was the Tube pass. You put money on the card and then you just had to tap it on the reader when you got on and off at your stations so it knew how much to deduct. I saw what she was saying. It tracked your journey, and if you bought it on a credit card, there would be a record.

“I’ve done this before,” Jane said. “Just a few commonsense steps we need to take. Here’s what we will do…”

The plan crafted over the table was simple, and thorough. I would walk to the South Kensington Tube station and use the nearest ATM to withdraw all of the money in my account. It had to look like I needed it all. I would also be seen on the camera at the machine. Then I was to drop the Oyster card in front of the station. Someone would pick it up and use it, leaving a confusing trail on the Tube.

“Give your mobile to Devina,” Jane said. “She’ll take it and use it in a few locations around the city. Just drive around with it, D, then dispose of it.”

Out of all of this, not having the phone made me the most uncomfortable. I didn’t actually know anyone’s phone number—not my parents in Bristol, not Jazza, not Stephen. They were on the phone.

“I won’t be able to reach anyone,” I said.

“You can’t talk to anyone,” Jane replied. “Not at first. You’ll want to, but that puts the whole thing in jeopardy. We need the mobile.”

I’d left my coat in the vestibule. The phone was in the pocket.

“I’ll get it,” I said, getting up from the table. I made my way through the dark hallway, my eyes struggling in the change in the light, my heart slamming in my chest. I had to do this. Jane was right. She was the one person with an actual plan. And doing this—terrifying as it was—was the right decision. It was the only thing that would make my life make sense again.

The room spun gently, and I realized I was smiling. I didn’t feel happy, did I?

I knocked into the silver leopard as I fumbled for my coat and retrieved the phone. Boo’s number was still on the display. Boo’s was a good number to keep. I stared at it, committing it to memory. At least, trying to…seven, seven, three, four…

“Here.”

Devina was behind me, and her hand was already on the phone.

“I’ll take care of this now,” she said. She grabbed a set of keys from a bowl on a little shelf by the door. And then my phone was gone.

I continued chanting the number in my head and reached into my coat pocket again. I’d shoved a colored lip gloss in there the other day. I rolled up my sleeve and used the sticky gloss to write the number on my arm. It was messy, but I had it. I had one link.