The Orb of Kandra

Sadly, he added, “Actually, I don’t know where I belong.”

He looked up at Armando.

“Perhaps that is your real mission, Oliver Blue?” Armando said in a soft, firm voice. “To find your place in the world?”

Oliver let Armando’s words sink in. He thought about his real parents, the man and woman who appeared to him in his visions and dreams. He wanted to find them.

But he was confused.

“I thought my mission in returning was to save you,” he said.

Armando smiled.

“Missions are multilayered,” he replied. “Saving me and finding out who you really are—the two are not mutually exclusive. After all, it is your identity that led you to me in the first place.”

Oliver pondered that. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps his return in time was not as simple as one mission; perhaps it was fated for a number of reasons.

“But I don’t even know where to begin,” Oliver admitted.

Armando tapped his chin. Then his eyes suddenly lit up.

He hurried over to one of his many desks, clicking his fingers. “Of course, of course, of course.”

Oliver was puzzled. He watched curiously as Armando rummaged in a drawer. Then he straightened up and turned to Oliver.

“Here.”

He walked over and placed a circular bronze object in Oliver’s hands. Oliver inspected it. It looked ancient.

“A compass?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.

Armando shook his head. “On its surface, yes. But it is something much more. An invention I’ve never been able to decipher.”

Oliver stared at it in awe, at the myriad dials and strange symbols on its surface. “Then why do you own it?”

“It was left on the steps of my factory,” Armando said. “There was no note to explain where it came from. My name was on the package but I realize now I was not the intended recipient. Look on the other side.”

Oliver turned the compass over. There, etched into the bronze, were the letters O.B.

Oliver gasped and almost dropped the compass. His gaze snapped up to meet Armando’s.

“My initials?” he said. “How? Why? Who would send you something intended for me?”

Armando took a deep breath. “I was supposed to be a guide for a seer, Oliver. You. I got it wrong at first, thinking it was Lucas. But when you arrived in 1944 and showed me your powers, I realized my mistake. I was cautious after that, waiting for a seer to come to me. Oliver, this compass was left on my doorstep eleven years ago. On December second.”

Oliver gasped. “That’s my birthday.”

Armando delivered the final blow. “I believe now that this was left by your parents.”

Oliver felt like he’d been punched. He could not believe it. Was he really holding a little piece of them in his hands? Something that had belonged to them, that they had sent on to Armando for safekeeping?

He whispered under his breath, “My parents?”

Surely it was a sign. A gift from the universe herself.

“What makes you so certain it was from them?” Oliver asked.

“Look at the dials,” Armando told him.

Oliver’s gaze tipped down. He saw that amongst the dozen or so dials, only one was pointing directly at a symbol. The symbol reminded Oliver of Egyptian hieroglyphics in style, scratchy black line drawings. But what it was depicting was clear. A man and a woman.

Oliver was in no doubt now. This was definitely a sign.

“What else do you know?” he demanded of Armando. “Did you see them leave the package? Did they say anything? Say anything about me?”

Armando shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid I know nothing more, Oliver. But perhaps this will help guide you in your quest to find out where you truly belong.”

Oliver’s eyes fell to the compass again. It was so strange, covered in symbols and dials. He may have no idea how to decipher it, but he knew it was important. That somehow, it would be a part of his mission to find his parents. To find out who he was and where he came from. Just holding a part of them in his hands gave him strength to search.

Just then, he noticed that one of the dials was moving. Now it was hovering over three squiggly lines that made Oliver think of water. He reached forward and rubbed his thumb against the symbol. To his surprise, as the dirt lifted, he saw that the symbol beneath was colored. The water lines were made in the most vivid, brilliant blue.

“I know where to start,” Oliver said decisively.

Blue. The Blues. His so-called parents. The man and woman who’d raised him as their own. If anyone had any answers about where he came from, it would be them.

And besides, he had a score to settle.

It was way past time to finally put Chris in his place.

CHAPTER FOUR

In the dark and stormy evening, Oliver headed out of the factory and along the streets of New Jersey. Debris from the storm lay strewn across the sidewalks, blowing in the wind that still blew strongly.

As he walked, Oliver was shocked to see that although everything was the same in terms of the buildings, roads, and sidewalks, nothing looked as it had before. The whole area had been transformed. It looked newer, cleaner, more affluent. There were shrubs and flowerbeds in the front yards rather than broken down washing machines and beat up cars. There were no potholes in the asphalt, no rusted, abandoned bikes attached to the street lamps.

Oliver realized that the fact that Illstrom’s Inventions had not closed down meant many local people had kept their jobs. The knock-on effects of his actions in the past seemed very far reaching. Oliver felt somewhat overwhelmed by the enormous responsibilities that came with being a seer. Just one change in the past seemed to affect everything in the future. But he also felt a sense of pride because things had changed for the better.

Oliver waited at the bus stop, its sign shiny now instead of rusted. The bus arrived and he climbed onboard. This one didn’t smell of onions and greasy fries like the one of his old timeline, but of lingering aftershave and polish.

“Aren’t you a bit young to be out this late?” the driver asked.

Oliver handed him some money for the fare. “I’m just heading home now.”

The driver looked concerned as Oliver took his seat.

Even the drivers are nicer than in my old timeline! Oliver thought.

As the bus pulled away, Oliver tried to remind himself what moment in time it was that he’d be returning to. As far as Mr. and Mrs. Blue were concerned, Oliver had failed to return from school on the bus during the storm. It was such a strange thing to wrap his head around. For Oliver, he’d had a whole adventure. He’d gone back in time and come face-to-face with Hitler, played a crazy game on the back of a genetically spliced creature from the year 3000, and made friends with kids from all different eras. And most important of all, he’d learned that he had a mom and dad, real ones, not the mean Blues. As far as they were concerned, Oliver had failed to come home from school during the storm and he doubted they’d even be relieved to see him back in one piece. They’d probably just complain about the worry he’d caused them.

As the bus jostled Oliver, he took Armando’s gift out of his pocket. It filled him with awe to look at. The brass was burnished and it was in need of a good polish. But other than that, it was a remarkable instrument. There were lots of arrows and dials and at least a hundred different symbols. With a sense of wonder, Oliver tried to imagine his parents with the compass. What had they used it for? And why had they sent it to Armando?

Just then, Oliver realized he’d reached his stop. He jumped up and rang the bell, then hurried to the front of the bus. The driver pulled over and let him out.

“Careful, kid,” he said. “The winds might start up again any second.”

“I’ll be fine, thank you,” Oliver told him. “My house is just there.”

He hopped off the bus. But the scene that met his eyes took his breath away. It was not what he expected at all. The once rundown neighborhood looked much nicer than when he’d left. It didn’t look like the sort of place his parents could afford. He was suddenly struck with the fear that perhaps this was no longer his home at all.

Quickly, he consulted the compass. The dials were still pointing to the sketchy image of a man and woman, as well as the wavy blue lines. If he was reading it correctly, then this was the right place. This was still his home.

Heart beating with apprehension, Oliver opened the garden gate and went up to the front door. He tried his key and was relieved to find it fit the lock. He turned it and walked inside.

It was very dark in the house, and very quiet. All Oliver could hear was the ticking of a distant clock and soft snoring. He realized it was nighttime so everyone would be asleep.

But as he walked into the living room, he was startled to discover both his parents inside. They were sitting on the couch, both their expressions pale. They looked disheveled, like neither had even attempted to go to bed.

Mom leapt to her feet. “Oliver!” she cried.

Dad dropped the telephone he’d been clutching in his hands. He looked at Oliver like he was seeing a ghost.

“Where have you been?” Mom demanded. “And what are you wearing?”

Oliver didn’t have an explanation for the blue workman’s overalls. But that didn’t matter because he didn’t get a chance to speak. Dad launched into a tirade.

“We’ve been worried sick! We called all the hospitals! Called the headmaster at Campbell Junior High to give him an ear-lashing! We even called the press!”

Oliver folded his arms, remembering the newspaper article in which they’d appealed for financial aid. It had happened in a different timeline but that didn’t mean if Oliver had not returned home this evening, it wouldn’t have happened in this one too.

“Of course you did,” he said wryly.

“Why weren’t you on the school bus?” Mom demanded. “Chris managed to catch it. Why didn’t you?”

“I think I know,” Dad interjected. “Oliver’s head was so far in the clouds he didn’t even think to. You know what he’s like, always lost in his imagination.” He sighed heavily. “I’ll have to call the school in the morning to apologize. Do you know how embarrassing that will be for me?”

Mom tutted and shook her head. “Where have you been? Wandering the streets? Aren’t you cold?” Then she folded her arms and huffed. “Actually, I hope you are cold. At least that way you might learn your lesson.”

Oliver listened to his parents’ tirades silently. For the first time their words bounced right off him. Their angry faces no longer made him tremble. Their harsh words didn’t sting.

Oliver realized how much he had changed. How much the School for Seers had changed him, not to mention discovering that the Blues were not really his family. It was like becoming a seer had wrapped an invisible bulletproof coat around his shoulders and now nothing could hurt him.

He stood before them confidently, waiting patiently for a pause in their rambling anger.

But before he got a chance to say his piece, thundering footsteps came from the staircase behind him. And there was Chris.

“What are you doing here?” he bellowed. “I thought you died in the storm.”

“Chris!” Dad scolded.

For a brief second, Oliver thought maybe his parents were going to stand up for him. Stand up to their bully son. But of course, they did not.

Oliver folded his arms. He wasn’t scared of Chris anymore. His heart rate hadn’t even increased.

“I was hiding. From you. Remember how you chased me down with your friends? How you threatened to beat me up?”

Chris pulled an incredulous expression. “I didn’t do that! You’re a liar!”

Mom buried her face in her hands. She hated arguing but never did anything to stop it.

Oliver just shook his head. “I don’t care if you call me a liar. I know the truth and so do you.” He folded his arms. “And anyway, none of that matters. I came here to tell you I’m leaving.”

Mom’s head popped up from her hands. “What?”

Dad glared at Oliver with horror. “Leaving? You’re eleven years old! Where are you going?”

Oliver shrugged. “I don’t know yet. But the thing is, I know you’re not my real parents.”

Everyone gasped. Chris’s mouth fell open. The whole room went silent.

“What are you talking about?” Mom cried. “Of course we are.”

Oliver narrowed his eyes. “No. You’re not. You’re lying. Who are they? My real mom and dad. What happened to them?”

His mom looked like she’d been caught out. Her eyes darted all over the place, as if searching for an escape.

“Fine,” she suddenly blurted. “We adopted you.”

Oliver nodded slowly. He thought her words would be hard to hear, but really it was a relief to get even more confirmation that the two people from his vision were his parents, not these awful people. That Chris wasn’t his real brother either. The big bully looked like he was about to faint from shock at the revelation.

Mom continued. “We don’t know anything about your real parents, okay? We weren’t given any information about that.”

Oliver felt his heart sink. He’d been hoping they would provide a piece of the puzzle of his identity. But they knew nothing.

“Nothing?” he asked sadly. “Not even their names?”

Dad stepped forward. “Not their names, not their ages, not their jobs. Adopted parents don’t get to know that stuff. It’s luck of the draw, you know! You could be the offspring of a criminal, for all we know. A lunatic.”

Oliver glared at him. He was certain his parents were neither of those things, but Mr. Blue’s attitude was still horrible. “Why did you even adopt me in the first place?”

“It was your mother,” Dad scoffed. “She wanted a second. I’ve no idea why.”

He sank onto the couch beside Mom. Oliver stared at them, feeling like he’d been punched in the gut. “You never actually wanted me, did you? That’s why you treated me so awful.”

“You should be grateful,” Dad muttered, not meeting his eye. “Most kids get lost in the system.”

“Grateful?” Oliver said. “Grateful that you barely fed me? Never gave me any new clothes or toys? Grateful for a mattress in an alcove?”

“We’re not the bad guys here,” Mom argued. “Your real parents abandoned you! You should take it out on them, not us.”

Oliver listened without reaction. Whether his real parents had indeed abandoned him or not, he had no evidence either way. That was another mystery for another day. For now he would take Mom’s words with a grain of salt.

“At least the truth’s finally out,” Oliver said.

Chris’s mouth finally shut. “You mean to say that pipsqueak isn’t my brother after all?”

“Chris!” Mom scolded him.

“Don’t speak like that,” Dad added.

Oliver just smirked. “Oh yes, Christopher John Blue. Since we’re on a truth mission. Your darling son—your real, biological one—is a bully. He’s bullied me my whole life, not to mention other kids at school.”

“That’s not true!” Chris bellowed. “Don’t believe him! He’s not even your son. He’s… he’s nothing! No one! A nobody!”

Mom and Dad looked at Chris with appalled expressions.

Oliver just smirked. “I think you’ve revealed the truth all by yourself.”

Everyone fell silent, deflated by the revelations. But Oliver wasn’t finished. Not quite yet. He paced back and forth, commanding the room and the attention of everyone in it.

“Here’s what happens next,” he said as he marched. “You don’t want me. And I don’t want you either. I was never meant to be here. So I’m leaving. You will not look for me. You will not speak of me. From this day forward, it will be as if I never existed. As for my end of the bargain, I won’t go to the police and tell them about the years of torment, about sleeping in an alcove and having my food rationed. Do we have a deal?”

He looked from one pair of blue eyes to the next. How silly, he thought now, that with him having brown eyes he’d never guessed before.

“Do we have a deal?” he said again, more firmly.

With great satisfaction, he saw they were all trembling. His mom nodded. Chris did too.

“We have a deal,” Dad stammered.

“Good. Now let me pack my things, and I’ll be out of your hair for good.”

He could feel everyone’s eyes on him as he walked over to the alcove. He grabbed his suitcase, still filled with bits of his inventions, and put the inventors book inside it.

Then he took the compass out of his pocket and placed it on top.

Just as he was about to close the suitcase, he noticed the dials on the compass had moved. One was now pointing at a symbol that looked like a Bunsen burner. A second was hovering on the symbol of a single female figure. A third pointed at a graduation cap.

Oliver put all the pieces together in his mind. Could it be that the compass was guiding him toward Ms. Belfry? The Bunsen burner could represent science, which she taught. The single female figure was self-explanatory. And the graduation cap could represent a teacher.

It must be a sign, Oliver thought with excitement. The universe was guiding him.

He closed his suitcase and turned to look at the Blues. They were all watching him in complete shock and silence. It was very satisfying to see the looks on their faces.

But then Oliver noticed that Chris was squeezing his hands into fists. He knew well enough what that meant—Chris was about to charge.

Oliver had only a split second to react. He used his powers to quickly tie Chris’s shoelaces together.

Chris launched himself forward. He tripped over his knotted laces immediately and fell in a heap on the floor. He groaned.

Mom let out a squeal. “His laces! Did you see his laces?”

Dad went pale. “They… they tied themselves together.”

From a heap on the floor, Chris glared up at Oliver. “You did that. Didn’t you? You’re a freak.”

Oliver shrugged innocently. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Then he turned on his heel, suitcase in hand, and stormed out of the house. He slammed the door shut behind him.

As he walked down the path, a smile spread across his lips.

He’d never have to see the Blues again.

CHAPTER FIVE

Oliver stood outside Campbell Junior High. The playground was as noisy as ever, filled with kids running, shouting, and throwing balls like grenades.

Oliver felt a knot of anguish in his stomach. It wasn’t that he was scared of the kids—or of crossing the playground filled with flying basketballs—it was because he would soon be seeing Ms. Belfry again.

As far as his favorite teacher was concerned, he’d been sitting in her class just yesterday. But for Oliver, it felt like a lifetime ago. He’d been on a whole, tumultuous adventure back in time. It had changed him, matured him. He wondered if she’d notice the changes in him when they came face to face.

He crossed the playground, ducking beneath the flying balls, then headed straight up the corridor to Ms. Belfry’s science class. It was empty, with no one inside. He’d hoped Ms. Belfry would be there early so he could talk to her. But soon, his classmates started to file in. There was no sign of Ms. Belfry yet, so Oliver had no choice but to take a seat. He went for one at the front beside the window.

Oliver looked out at the playing fields, at all the kids playing different sports. He marveled at how odd it felt to pretend to be a normal student again, to be around normal people rather than seers with extraordinary powers.

More kids entered the classroom. Amongst them was Samantha, the girl who’d mocked Oliver every time he’d answered one of Ms. Belfry’s questions. She took a seat at the back of the class. Then Paul came in. He was the one who’d thrown screwed up paper at the back of Oliver’s head.

Seeing the kids that teased him again made Oliver feel uncomfortable. But the memories of them bullying him were already fading, the sting of their words holding much less power over him. Thanks to the School for Seers and the friends he’d made there, Oliver felt like those old wounds had healed. He’d moved on. His bullies could no longer hurt him.

The class filled up and everyone laughed and chatted loudly until the moment Ms. Belfry hurried through the door. She looked flustered.

“Sorry, I was running late.” She dumped her teaching materials onto the table. Amongst them was a shiny red apple. “Today we’re discussing forces.” She picked up the apple and dropped it to the floor. “Who can guess what we’re learning about today?”

Oliver immediately put his hand up. Ms. Belfry nodded at him.

“Gravity,” he said.

Right away, Oliver heard Samantha’s mimicking voice coming from behind him. It was swiftly followed by the smattering of laughter from her friends.

Oliver decided it was time to get some revenge. Nothing too mean, just a little bit of payback for her actions.

He glanced behind, making direct eye contact with her, then used his powers to waft a jet of dust straight up her nose.

Immediately, Samantha sneezed. A huge booger exploded from her nose. All the kids around her burst out laughing and pointing.

Ms. Belfry shoved a tissue in Samantha’s direction. Samantha quickly cleaned up her mess. Her cheeks had gone bright red.

Oliver smiled at her then turned back to face the front.

Ms. Belfry clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Gravity. The force that keeps our feet on the ground. The force that makes all things fall toward the earth. Tell me, Oliver, how did you know that we were discussing gravity today?”

Oliver spoke in a strong, confident voice. “Because Sir Isaac Newton discovered the law of gravity when he saw an apple fall. Not on his head, mind you. That’s a common mistake.”

Just then, Oliver felt something hit him in the head. A pencil clattered to the floor beside him. He didn’t even need to look behind him to know the missile had come from Paul.

Try throwing pencils with no hands, Oliver thought.

He turned around and locked eyes with Paul. Then he used his powers to stick Paul’s hands to the desk.

Paul immediately looked down at his hands. He tried to move them. They were stuck fast.

“What’s going on?” he yelled.

Everyone turned around and saw Paul’s hands stuck to the table. They began to laugh, clearly thinking he was joking around. But Oliver knew the look of panic in Paul’s eyes was real.

Ms. Belfry looked unimpressed. “Paul. Gluing your hands to the desk isn’t the most sensible idea you’ve ever had.”

The class descended into raucous laughter.

“I didn’t, Ms. Belfry!” Paul cried. “Something weird is happening to me!”

Just then, Samantha let out another huge sneeze.

Smiling to himself, Oliver turned back to the front of the class.

Ms. Belfry clapped her hands. “Everyone pay attention. Sir Isaac Newton was an English mathematician and physicist. Does anyone know when he founded the law of gravity?”

Oliver’s hand went confidently into the air again. It was the only one. Ms. Belfry looked at him and nodded. She looked pleased that he was no longer reticent to raise his hand. Before, she’d had to coax the answers out of him.

“Yes, Oliver?”

“1687.”

She beamed. “That’s correct.”

Just then Oliver heard Paul mock him again. Clearly sticking his hands to the table wasn’t enough to stop him. Oliver needed to close his mouth too.

He turned and narrowed his eyes at Paul. In his mind, he visualized a zip closing Paul’s lips. Then he pushed out the image. And just like that, Paul’s mouth zipped closed.

Paul started to make a muffled, panicked noise. Students turned around and started to squeal at the strange sight. Ms. Belfry looked alarmed.

Immediately, Oliver knew he’d gone too far. He quickly reversed what he’d done to Paul, freeing his mouth and hands. But it was too late. Paul glared at him and raised a finger.

“You! You’re a freak! You made that happen!”

As the children began to hurl insults at Oliver, he looked to Ms. Belfry. There was a strange look of confusion behind her eyes, as if she were asking a silent question.

As a chorus of “Freak!” rang out behind him, Ms. Belfry clapped her hands.

“Everyone quiet down! Quiet down!”

But Oliver’s classmates were in a frenzy. They were all crowding around Oliver, pointing and shouting, calling him names. He felt hounded, belittled. It was awful.

He wanted them away from him. He closed his eyes and pushed out with his powers. Suddenly, everything went silent.

Oliver opened his eyes again and saw kids grabbing their throats and mouths. They were still shouting at him but there was no noise coming out. It was as if Oliver had simply turned off their voice-boxes.