CHAPTER FOUR

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.