What Sapphires can Say

One1

There was a gloomy aura about the school that morning, that somehow let me know, as I stepped into it, that my life, from that moment, would never be the same.  I actually smiled, upon being communicated that.  Change was good.2

Now, I’m the kind of girl who’s not all that pretty, and really quiet, and has only a few, good friends.  However, if given the chance, I would not hesitate to take on dragons.3

That, my love for fantasy and the unreal, I suppose, is what gave me chills and butterflies the moment I laid eyes upon the new boy.  For, truth be told, I would not truly lay eyes upon him for much longer than may seem at first portrayed; he was covered, as he sat in the back of the classroom, from head to toe, in black.  He wore a thick, black suit, that could not have been comfortable.  His face was laden with a black mask, that covered even his eyes, and a hood shrouded his hair.  Now those things in themselves are enough to get a person labeled a freak, jeered at, and suspended, but, of course, a kid like that could never stop there!4

At his side, tucked in a sheath at his belt, was a blade; its handle was the only thing on him that wasn’t black.  It was gold, with a sapphire, the shape of which I could not quite make out, in the hilt.5

Whispers, of course flew!  There was one rumor that said that he was a spy from the middle east, working for Osama bin Laden.  Another claimed that he was a nutcase.  Most labeled him an alien, and, to Middle Schoolers, he genuinely was.6

I must say, that, when I first laid eyes upon him, I laughed.  He did not scare me, of course; I thought it was a joke.  I thought some kid had decided to make a fashion statement or something.  Maybe they had forgotten that Spirit Week was over, and had designed a crazy costume a week too late.  He was a sight to see,  sitting in the back with a pencil out, as though he were one of us.7

I watched as Coach Mayers caught sight of him upon entering the small trailer where he is stuck teaching Health, whereas the other, older coaches were teaching soccer, pickleball, bowling, and/or volleyball in the gym, which was actually attached to the school.  I could tell when the teacher saw him, for his eyes narrowed, and he blinked briefly, as though he didn’t think he was seeing too well.  He crossed the room to his desk, and I could tell the rest of the class was thinking the exact same thing I was; “Would Mayers have the guts to write whomever that boy sitting in the back was up?  He was dressed for an office referral!  What were the teachers going to do with this freakshow?”8

That actually may be a little more or less harsh than what most kids thought, but it was relatively close to my own thoughts.  Coach Mayers disturbedly crossed the room to his desk, where he set down his folders and stuttered, “G-good morning, uh, turn the books with the yellow apple in them, under you desk, to page 370.  Now, the symptoms of AIDS...”9

Usually, I actually pay attention in that class. I’d learned my lesson in the previous year when I failed a quiz.  At that time, however, I was too confused.  If this were a joke, Coach Mayers would have treated it like one.  He wasn’t one to be made a fool out of... sorta.10

So we all took out our textbooks as if it were a normal day.  I could tell, despite the smell of pickles fogging up the room, that that aura’s power was well in play... and I was loving every minute of it.  I would never have told anyone just how curiously intrigued I was by that character.11

The day went on, and when the bell rang, we packed up our books.  When we recollected, long after, we found that no one actually saw the boy leave the room.12

I went on to find that he was not in my band class, of course, and did not meet up with him again until Algebra 1.  We love our math teacher, Mrs. Read; She gives us work to do, and we sit there and socialize while getting it done.13

There he was again, sitting in the back.  He hadn’t a pencil this time, but a red, fancy pen, which he lay on the desk.  Then he stared at us.  Although his mask covered his eyes, I could feel his gaze upon my back as intense as fire.14

I sat there, working ahead on my homework, barely able to concentrate.  I shivered.  Mrs. Read’s room was always quite cold.15

“Courtney!” I jumped. “Courtney, do you know who he is?” I didn’t even have to look at my friend, Barry, to know of whom he spoke.16

“No...” I muttered.  “Don’t think so.... He’s staring at me, isn’t he?”17

Tonya, another one of my friends, casually dared a glance at him, then whimpered, “How did you know?!” at me, looking appalled.18

“I don’t know, I don’t know!” I hissed back.  “I-I feel him- his gaze, I can feel it.”19

“This is scary,” Stefan was the first to admit.  “Just go... say hi to him or something.”20

“You!” I blurted.  “Whaddaya want me to do, walk right up and say ‘Hey, have we ever met?’”21

They were silent, then.  Their eyes went everywhere but to me, and if this were a cartoon, they would have whistled innocently, I am sure.  I sighed. There’s no point in dealing with fools.  You know why this world is such a weird and complicated and senseless place?  There are people in it.  That was exactly what they wanted me to do.22

“Fine,” I groaned.  They watched me in wonder as I awkwardly turned around.23

“Hey,” I whispered from my seat.  “Uh... what’s you name?  I’m Taylor.”24

He just stared.  I wondered if he was looking at me like a nut.25

“Hey, uh, dude!” I moved my head around.  “What’s your name?”26

He bowed his head in a way that was pretty pathetic, but did not answer.27

“Is it... Billy Bob?”28

Stephen, Tonya, and Barry winced at my impertinence, but the creature just shook his head.  I guess he didn’t get that I was making fun.  Otherwise, he would have slashed me open.29

“Then what is it?” I asked.30

He moved his head as though rolling his eyes, leaned forward, and snatched a blank piece of paper from my desk.31

“Hey!” I blurted, but I found myself unable to snatch it back: number one, because he was already scribbling on it, and number two, because I was so surprised.  Most people were not so rude to me.32

He finished what he was sketching and spun the paper around to face us.33

My friends drew back in exaggerated horror; the picture was of a spear, tip facing straight down, into the heart of a rose, not quite in full bloom.  I can see how it looked like a threat, but get real, people, even a creep who brings a sword to school wouldn’t draw something as precise as that as a threat.34

I took the paper gently from his grasp, frowned, and studied it.  “You guys,” I said softly, “it’s not a threat.  Look.” I tapped the paper.  “The spear means ‘Shakespeare,’ and the rose stands for what he once claimed about them in one of his plays.  ‘That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet’ he said.  What this being is trying to say is strangely clear to me; his name is not important.”35

They gawked.  I guess they couldn’t think of anything to say.  They couldn’t ask “How...?” because I had already explained that I didn’t know.  There was a feeling that they felt, and I felt, and I really think the creature felt that seemed to hang about us, paralyzing us, freezing our lips and disenabling us to work. We just stayed like that for many seconds.36

Then, the police came.37

“Well, DUH, Taylor!” I whispered to myself.  The teachers were’nt even going to try to suspend him or whatever for fear of getting their guts spilled all over the school.  They were going straight to the authorities, and the authorities were coming here.38

They came discreetly, but I saw their vehicles (there were two) out the window, and gasped shortly.  I wanted to cry.  I began to pray, and pray hard, for reasons I did not know. If the teachers weren’t willing to try, why would the police be?  It was all so bizarre, time was inching by like a dream.39

My eyes widened, I gasped, and I bent my head to pray inside my head.  These events brought to a halt the paralysis hanging over the table, and Barry and Stephen began asking “What?  What is it?  Taylor, what did he do to you?”40

“Nothing!” I whispered violently.  I moved my head toward Tonya’s ear.  “Did you see them, too?” asked as softly as I could manage.  She nodded silently.41

I looked at her with pleading eyes.  “Then help me think, what can we do to stop them overreacting? We know he’s intelligent and of this world!  We know he is ignorant and not violence-crazed! If he were not of these things, then my discussion with him just now would not have gone so well.”42

She looked at me the same way she had looked at the creature, which I will leave up to your imagination.  “You want to help him?” she more mouthed than said.  “There’s nothing we can do.”43

As if to confirm this, three uniformed people opened the classroom door.44

"Sir," one of them began, "if you'll please relinquish your weapon and remove your mask, we are the police."45

Okay. I had been sitting there for what felt like a year while these suits had moseyed their way from the police car to the classroom praying my a$$ off that they wouldn't break down the door, barge in and say in a booming voice, gun drawn, "Boy in black, please step away from the blade and put your hands up. You are under arrest."  And what had they done? Exactly that.46

I was seriously ticked.  Don't ask why, but something about this boy told me that he was... what was the word I was looking for?47

Anyway, the uniformed dudette flounced in and spat a threat at him, and he didn't even move.  I couldn't tell, but I don't think even his eyes changed.  But even if they did, they didn't change to "i can take you!" like in the movies; they changed to "Duuhhhh... what?"48

So we all froze there for a minute or eon or two, until someone finally made a move, and to my regret, it had to be Mr. Not Billy Bob. It was his hand, and only his hand, using the desk as a shield, keeping his hand at an angle beneath it where the police could not see his movement; his fingers crept toward the sheath at his side, the one which we all very much feared held a lethal sword.49

"NO!" I screeched at him as I slammed my hand down upon the venturing fingers. "Stop. I don't know what's in that sheath, but but I have a pretty good idea, and if you draw it, they'll shoot you." I swear, I had no idea what I was doing.  I didn't mean to sound so dramatic.  I turned to the officers. "Sirs... ma'am." I explained. "W-" I began, but decided not to bring my friends into it. "I have reason to believe that he is ignorant." There's that word! Ignorant!50

"Ignorance is no excuse," the female officer retaliated. Blah! I hated that line; my dad liked it. Not to mention that it seemed a pretty durn good excuse to me.51

I guess the dude I was defending agreed, because the next thing I knew, he wasn't in the desk anymore.  There wasn't even a "vwoop-shunk" or any kind of sound effect.  Just, suddenly, he wasn't there. So everybody was kind of like "Huh? Where'd he go?" for a minute, until we spotted him sprinting across the ceiling.  That's right. he was running, upside down, chest down (or is it up?), on the ceiling.  At least that's what it looked like. He was moving too fast for us to really tell if his feet were actually hitting it. (Now that I think back on it, he moved kind of like Hitokiri Battosai.)  He drew his sword while he was at it (It was indeed a blade.), made a circle around the perimeter of the room, and was out the door, leaving the officers standing, shocked out of their skulls, with their guns half drawn and looking straight up at the door frame with their mouths open.52

We stood there for another minute or eon or two while the adults recomposed themselves. I was just scared that if I moved before they did, they'd shoot me or something.53

I don't remember what happened next. I was too busy staring at the subtle reward Freakish Dude had given me for my warning.54

As you may imagine, the rest of the day did not exactly feel normal at all.  My elaboration of the day may seem shorter than it would have been if the boy hadn't been all that was on my mind. The officers couldn't arrest me or anything because I didn't do anything wrong. Some of the kids tried to ask me questions, but pretty much failed, not knowing what it was they wanted to ask, let alone how to word it. I totally zoned out during the teachers' faulty attempts to teach my class the rest of the day.  But the main thing that I do remember is the looks on my classmates' faces.  They had no idea what to do with me. Quiet Little Angel Courtney standing up for a freakshow!55

It sickened me, and I was very glad when the day was over so that I could collapse on my bed, feeling old and decrepit, and procrastinate on my homework. Thats when the tears started, and the trinket in the palm of my hand became blurry. I had clutched it very hard the entire day, and it was still cold.56

It was with foggy eyes the I unpeeled the crumpled notebook paper from around whatever it was hiding. After doing so, I could do nothing but stare.57

It was the sapphire from the hilt of his sword... and the notebook paper was the one he had drawn the rose on.58

It felt like I had lost something rather than gained. Maybe I was just shaken up. Maybe I didn't feel worthy of the gift. Maybe I was afraid he would be back....59

Maybe I was afraid that he wouldn't.60

Two61

Well, by the time I got over myself, it was five o’clock and Mom was hollering for me to come to dinner.  I whined alot to myself as I got out of bed.  I  moved to turn off the TV, but I had been so preoccupied with my crying that I hadn’t turned it on.  Usually, when I get home from school, I turn on my TV and get on my homework.  Today was so different, I was struck with a moment of fear at the thought of things never being the same again.  I’d never felt like that before.  Last time I’d checked, I’d liked change.  So, I quickly reminded myself of that love and hurried down the stairs, feeling much better than I had when I’d come up them.62

The kitchen smelled good to me as I walked down the stairs.  I smelled tomato sauce, so I hoped for something with meatballs.  The wallpaper in the kitchen is aquamarine and lavender, and it’s always full of fresh cut flowers from my mom’s garden.  A navy blue lamp hands from the ceiling above the table, and the tile is off-white, as are most of the appliances.  The smell of the flowers and the food, the food itself, and the cleanness of the place make it the most favored room in the house, I think.  Dad was probably up changing out of his work clothes, and Shannon was probably up in her room redoing her makeup or something for the hundredth time today, so Mom and I were the only ones in there yet.63

“Hey, Courtney,” Mom said as she opened the cabinet.  “Can you set the table for me, please?”64

“Sure,” I said.  Usually I groaned when she asked.  What was frickin’ wrong with me?????65

Mom saw that something was different, of course, and looked at me funny.  “You alright?  Your eyes are kind of puffy.”66

I shrugged.  “Must be dusty.”67

She stopped cleaning for a moment and sized me up.  Her hair was black and frizzy, her hands were red from working, and there were circles under her eyes, but she looked beautiful to me, as all mothers are.68

“Tsk.  Something’s different today!” she said.  How could moms do that?  Tell something’s up by looking at you, I mean.  Do they have some sort of special powers when they give birth or something, or is it just that maternal instinct people talk about?69

“It’s funny.  You don’t look fourteen.”70

“What?” I was totally blank.  Last time I’d checked, I was thirteen.71

“Oh, honey! We didn’t forget you!” she began to say, “Its just that none of us saw you this morning, since your dad and sister left early and you didn’t eat bre-”72

“What?” I asked “Forget me? Forget what about me?”73

Her expression changed to a curious frown.  “Your birthday!”74

Something erupted.  I don't know if it was my heart or a volcano, but it made me laugh, and I looked at the calendar hanging on the fridge.  Of course, she was right.75

"Oh...!" I cried.  "I FORGOT ME!"76

She laughed, but didn't give me a hard time about it. Instead, she gave me a hug.  "BEN! SHANNON! Come on down!" she hollered up the stairs.77

She let me go and headed into the living room, so I could not just resist whispering "You're the next contestant... on The price is Right!"78

"Not only is it your birthday," my mom announced from the brown-carpeted living room, "you get presents!"79

I smiled. After a minute of kicking myself for forgetting my own birthday, I actually began to enjoy myself. I opened an adorable purse from Shannon and several small presents before Dad said "Hey, Courtney, lets go out to eat," and headed towards the garage.80

There, in the midle of the garage, was a bike.  I know its a classic birthday present, but I loved it.  It was what I'd wanted, and I'd finally be able to ride around and explore the neighborhood.  It wasn't like a little pink bike with tassles on it and a little basket either.  It was black with royal purle on it and 21 speeds.81

I had to try it out, so I grabbed my cell and helmet and hopped on.82

I hadn't been on a bike in years, but I was so beyond self-control and so chraged with confidence my hair was standing up around my helmet as I took off.  I went faster than I knew how, and the thrill was INCREDIBLE!  The trees soared by, and I wanted to throw my old scooter away; it was so slow.  The rainclouds were building, and if that didn't stop me, my dad calling for me to come home so we could go to dinner would, but I didn't care.  I was flying...83

...right into a humongous moving truck invisible due to the corner of the street.84

As soon as I saw it, I knew it was NOT too late.  I slammed on the brakes...85

...the left brakes.86

As everybody knows, that causes the front wheel to stop first, and the bike to flip.  Flip it did, sending me over the handles, into the street.87

I closed my eyes as though it would brace me. It was too late now.88

I was hit...89

...by something that was not heavy enough to be a truck.90

The surprise hit me instantly and my eyes flicked open. I heard a honk, and a blur that was the truck sped by.91

Well, I was like "Huh?" Who wouldn't be? For a moment I had been so sure that I had been hit with the truck, and passed quickly, my fifteenth birthday to be my last.  I felt certain that the strength I was suddenly in was Heaven's own...92

...until that strength set me down on the grass, and I looked up to see the same creature that I had met at school.93

"Y-you...?" I stammered.94

He nodded.95

"You s-saved me?" I am truly embarrassed to confess what admiring weakness I said this declaratory interrogation with.  It's not like me, but he and the sky, along with anything else I could see, was spinning. For not even ten seconds, I had thought I was dead.  Things don't get much more warped.96

I quickly grabbed the jewel from my pocket and offered it to him.  I'm not sure why I did this. I think- and I'm embarassed to admit this, too- I was afraid of him, and worried that he wanted the jem back. Maybe I just didn't feel like I deserved it, and wanted him to have it back.97

His movements were swift, as his gloved fingers brushed my hand, and made my hand into a fist- not taking anything, but slipping in a piece of paper. He let go strangely, and looked toward my house.  I looked, too, but saw nothing, and when I turned to look at him again...98

...he was gone.99

As you can imagine, the first thing I felt was ticked off. How could he just dash like that?  It took me a moment to realize he'd probably slipped me some indication of future meeting.  i did not hesitate to open the paper after that, and as I gazed at it, sitting on the grass where he'd left me.100

That was when my phone rang.101

"Hello?" I aswered it agitiatedly.102

"WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT!!???" came my dad's voice. He'd seen the whole thing from down the street.103