Phoenix Child Read online

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  Stalling without being obvious is a gift. In a classroom, the teacher is your best ally. Ask questions or offer to help. Today, I helped move mats while the other kids got ready for lunch. I wanted to sit alone. Once everyone else started eating I would venture out and claim a nook to myself.

  Not everyone had settled down for lunch once the mats were put away, so I went to the bathroom - another good stalling technique.

  I took a breath and prepared for the inevitable stream of questions that would race through my mind when I spent any time looking in a mirror. Running my fingers under the black bandanna, I checked to make sure my hair stayed secure in the bun. It crunched from the mass of gel and hair spray I'd used.

  Did my mom have almond-shaped eyes, too? Did my dimples come from my dad? Did I look like my parents, or like another family member? Who else in my family had a nose that turned up a bit at the end?

  These questions were familiar. Having no memory or pictures of my parents, I’m a mystery to myself. I have no idea who I am or where I come from. I hope that someday I will either know who I am, or let it go and get on with my life.

  Looking at my changed reflection, I found new questions filling my mind. Did I look more like my parents now, or less? Was I now proof of a mistake made in their youth? An ancient family secret revealed? Would they be proud of how I looked, or lock me in the basement so no one else could see me?

  I glared at myself in the mirror. "Sara, get a grip, go out there, make a list of all the craziness, and eat lunch."

  Looking around the bathroom, I felt both grateful and disappointed that I didn't get any flashes of memory. My hands itched to touch the walls, hoping to find where my mom hid the package almost ten years ago. I flung the bathroom door open, refusing to give in to hallucinations.

  People-watching is a sport in San Francisco, so the other students sat near the huge front windows. Philip, Kayin and Taliesin were gathered in an office behind the desk, with the door open. Shin brushed his blue and black bangs away from his face as he ate with the students. He must have drawn the short straw.

  Eavesdropping is wrong; sitting where you can hear people talking is an 'accident.' The key: don't sit so close they know you hear them. Looking busy helps. Luck was with me today; a stack of mats stood a few feet from the open office door. Sitting down, I leaned against the mats and took out my lunch.

  "I don't know if she's the Jewel, but she's definitely a Child of Fire," Philip said.

  What is a Child of Fire? I took a bite of my vegetable sandwich. Pickle juice dripped down my chin. I grabbed my napkin before it could drip onto my shirt. I didn't want to smell like dill pickles all day.

  "How did classes go?" Philip asked.

  "Fine," Taliesin said.

  "I'm looking forward to Gavin and Anali being here. Teaching is new to me, and I'd rather help than be in charge," Kayin said.

  I thought Kayin did a good job.

  "Do you think you will be ready to teach a class in January?" Philip mumbled. I guess he was eating.

  "Yes. Once I get used to teaching, I should be fine," Kayin said.

  "You did well today," Taliesin said. Wow, he could be nice.

  "Thank you," Kayin said.

  I jumped when the phone rang; not good, way too obvious. I finished my sandwich, took out a notebook, and began listing all the weird things that happened so far. Philip's one-sided phone conversation wasn't that interesting anyway, something about hoping the storm cleared and that they would arrive here tomorrow, whoever "they" were.

  I kept one ear on the conversation, in case something interesting came up, but focused on my list: high fever, my hair, skin, and eyes changed color, I saw a flashback/daydream/hallucination about my mom, Kayin said we were family, and I felt heat when we touched. I didn't know what any of it meant, or what would happen next. I had a feeling the weirdness wasn't over.

  The list didn't help. I hated change, even change within my control. Closing my eyes, I leaned my head against the mats.

  What should I do? What could I do? I liked Melanie and trusted her, but nothing could be a secret between us. She needed to report everything out of the ordinary to my caseworker and the group home supervisor. The physical differences were bad enough. If I added these weird feelings and visions, I could wind up in the hospital for crazy people. That was not an option that appealed to me.

  I guess I would have to wait and see what happened next. Maybe this was leftover brain bubbles from the fever. Just odd stuff leaking from my subconscious, and after a good night's sleep it would all go away. Yes, a good plan. I liked this plan, especially the all going away part.

  An image flashed into my mind of an old leather-bound book, one I memorized and which brought me comfort and words of wisdom when I needed it. It was the only thing I had from my mom. On each page she wrote a quote, and then offered advice in small neat letters.

  "Change is the constant, the signal for rebirth, the egg of the phoenix." -Christina Baldwin.

  "Every life is full of changes and challenges. Some changes are small, while others will alter the rest of your life. Some changes you will have hoped and prayed for, while plenty of others will make you want to hide under your covers and stay in bed. Just know that your strength lies within you. No matter what, remember who you are. Change happens, finding out what new opportunities lie before you is a sign of the wise and brave."

  "All right everyone, I'd like you all to finish up and meet in the middle of the room in ten minutes," Philip said.

  I wasn't sure what was to come, what changes would be forced on me, or what opportunities would present themselves. What I did know was that I needed to be very careful.

  Chapter Two

  "Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work."