Oracle--Solar Wind Read online

  Mr. Coy found himself at a total loss for words. He was stunned by what he saw before him: an obscure boy, unlearned and unadorned, who possessed more wisdom and understanding than all the world’s capitols and polities. Surely the Oracle would be hard-pressed to find a better steward than Ret Cooper.

  A few floors above the hangar, Leo came bursting back through the main door of the Manor. Out of breath, he dashed across the semicircular foyer toward the elevator. When its doors did not immediately open, he pushed the button repeatedly, confused why it was taking so long since he had just recently used it.

  When the doors finally opened, Leo was surprised to find Paige inside the elevator. Like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar, Paige blushed.

  “Oh, hi,” she said bashfully.

  There was a look of distress on Leo’s face as he frantically pressed the button to take them back down to the hangar. Paige was glad he seemed too preoccupied to want to chat with her. Just minutes ago, as the two of them were escorting the Cooper women out of the Manor, she had told them that she would stay behind and that they should go on ahead without her. They obliged and exited the Manor while she hurried back to the elevator to return to the hangar and listen in on her father’s conversation with Ret, knowing it was her best chance yet of hearing Ret share some of his most personal thoughts as never before.

  And so, while hiding in the elevator, Paige learned a lot about Ret. She had never even considered some of the weighty material that passed through his mind on a daily basis. She marveled to hear how Ret’s anxiety had very little to do with himself. She, at last, had gotten a small taste of the thoughts that kept Ret awake at night, but now, given their gravity, she kind of wished she hadn’t.

  As soon as the elevator doors parted, Leo lunged into the hangar. After just a few steps, he shouted, “Mr. Coy, sir, you need to see something right away.”

  Mr. Coy and Ret hurried into the elevator. Not a word was said. Paige glanced at Ret a few times, but his attention remained fixed on his own thoughts.

  Leo led the way out of the Manor and across the grounds. As soon as they stepped outside, they saw the first sign of trouble: there was a large but dissipating cloud of black smoke in the sky, not too close to them but not too far away either.

  Their brisk walk now turned into a worried run. They followed Leo through the main gate, then down the bluff that led to Tybee Creek. Leo immediately readied the kayak, but the other three stood at the water’s edge in shock at what they saw on the other shore: the Cooper home, burned to the ground.

  They leapt into the kayak. Leo manned the oar. Wanting to move faster, Ret took it from him and began to cut through the water. The kayak quickly gained so much speed that Ret jumped out a good ways from shore and ran the rest of the way himself, letting the kayak float on its own behind him.

  Ret flew up the few wooden planks of their backyard boardwalk that had not been burned. He made his way to the front yard, kicking up ash along the way. He glanced at what used to be their home. Nothing had escaped the flames. It was all gone, now reduced to an ugly heap of charred debris and unrecognizable rubble.

  Ret approached the small group on the blackened front lawn. The last of the firefighters were there, preparing to leave. Pauline and Ana were listening to Ms. Montgomery, the widow next-door, whose house had been largely unscathed.

  “Oh, it was awful,” the old woman told them amid frightened tears. “I was just sitting on the back porch when I saw a creature emerge from the creek.” She was obviously very shaken up. “When it got to shore, I could tell it was a man—a hideous, old man with white hair and black robes and…and…oh, that cane! That dreadful cane! He lifted it into the air and, out of nowhere, shot at least a dozen lightning bolts at your home—through the windows, through the doors—one after another. The whole house instantly went up in flames. I ran and called the fire department, but—oh, Pauline, I’m so sorry.”

  Ret watched from behind as the two neighbors wept on each other’s shoulders. Paige and Leo rushed to Ana’s side.

  Ret walked up the two cement steps that led to where the front door used to be, kicking dead embers away to clear a path. He stared into the ghost-house. The Coopers had never had much when it came to earthly possessions—no more than the essentials, really. But now they had nothing. Ret added it to the growing list of misfortunes that he had caused. He was well aware that Pauline and Ana never had to adopt him. He was a guest in their home. Now, as a reward for their hospitality, they had suffered yet another tragedy. They had already lost their husband and father because of Ret. And now this. What was next? What was left?

  Through the white and wispy smoke, Ret could see a man standing on the shore. For a moment, he thought it might be that white-haired and black-robed arsonist with “that dreadful cane.” But it wasn’t; it was Mr. Coy.

  Ret trudged across the scorched property toward him. Mr. Coy didn’t make it far from the kayak, too overwhelmed by what he saw. Ret stopped in front of him, face to face.

  “It was Lye,” Ret told him, knowing it was an act of revenge for Ret destroying Lye’s Vault. “If you see him, give this to him, will you?”

  Ret grabbed Mr. Coy’s hand, put the Oracle in it, and walked away.

  CHAPTER 2

  ANYONE’S GUEST

  Fortunately for the now-homeless Cooper family, there was an enormous facility nearby that specialized in caring for the less fortunate. In fact, some of Paige’s first words of consolation to her grieving friend Ana were an invitation to come and live at Coy Manor—either temporarily or indefinitely, though she personally preferred the latter. Her father felt the same way; actually, he insisted on it. And so Pauline, without money or roof, gratefully accepted the generous offer.

  It didn’t take long for the Coopers to feel comfortable enough to call the Manor their new home. Mr. Coy immediately set in motion a plan to build a small house on the west side of the property that would serve as the Coopers’ permanent and private residence. Such a project was commonplace in the Manor’s curriculum. It gave the students real-world experience in their chosen fields—the sort of hands-on training they would need in order to excel once they left the Manor in pursuit of jobs and careers.

  Right there, at the site, instruction was given and then applied. The aspiring architects drew up blueprints that they could add to their portfolios. The future land surveyors came to understand the complications of yet another gradient. Cementers compared aggregate compounds while masons discussed herringbone patterns. The plumbers and electricians worked alongside the roofers and painters. Interior decorators experimented with multiple colors, fabrics, and patterns. The linens were homespun by the Textiles class, and the dishes were hand-made by Ceramics. Standing by were bookkeepers tallying expenses and chiropractors expelling subluxations. The journalists kept the rest of the campus apprised of the progress through daily reports that were featured in the Manor’s nightly news.

  Each and every one of the Manor’s small but varied departments and schools was called upon to participate in “Project: Cooper Home” in some way. It was the unwritten order of things: if there wasn’t an obvious need, then they were expected to create one. This is why Coy Manor itself looked so weird—it had a little bit of everything. In fact, by the end of the project, the Coopers’ new abode bore a strong resemblance to the Manor, full of oddities that seemed forced into the design. It was quite a lot to take in during the grand tour.

  “Oh, what a lovely decoration,” Pauline said with feigned favor when the engineering students showed her the towering wind turbine in her backyard.

  “It’s not just for decoration,” the students beamed. “It’s what’s going to generate electricity to help power your house.”

  “Well, if it lowers my utility bills,” Pauline told them, trying to look on the bright side, “then I love it.”

  Then, a little later in the tour, the marine biology students anxiously showed Pauline how they had turned the kitchen’s island int
o a fish tank.

  “Well now,” Pauline stuttered, “isn’t that…different.”

  “What better place to include our tropical fish than as part of your island,” the students cheered. “You do like fish, don’t you?”

  “Oh yes,” Pauline reassured them. Then, eying her new set of pots and pans, she added almost subconsciously, “Braised, especially.”

  The marine biology students glared at each other and winced.

  However, despite the house’s occasional unusualness (like the device installed above the shower by the meteorology students, which emitted the clouds, lights, and sounds of a thunderstorm every time the water was turned on), it was a house—a blessing the Coopers gave thanks for in their daily prayers together. As a token of their gratitude (and because Pauline loved to cook), they started a tradition of hosting Mr. Coy and Paige for dinner once a week. She also asked them to bring along a guest, preferably a member of the staff so that they could all gradually get to know each other over time.

  “This looks delicious, Mrs. Cooper,” Paige said of the chicken and dumplings that Pauline made for their first meal together.

  “Thank you, dear,” Pauline returned with culinary pride. “Now, we have a rule in this family that we always serve our guests first, so if you’ll please hand me your plate…”

  She reached out her hand toward Missy, the staff member whom Mr. Coy had invited to join them this week.

  “And what is it you do at the Manor?” Pauline asked, taking her plate.

  “I mostly just take Paige to and from school,” Missy answered politely.

  “Then you must be enjoying the extra-long spring break that these three have been taking,” Pauline observed, nodding at the Tybee High students at the table.

  “Well, yes,” Missy smiled, “but Mr. Coy keeps me busy. He’s always got something for us to do. Isn’t that right, sir?” She glanced at him, having provided the perfect segue for him to share something that the others did not yet know.

  “Quite right,” Coy took over, “which is why I’ve asked Missy to start staying the whole school day with the kids—you know, to keep an eye on them.”

  “You mean she’s going to follow us around all day?” Ana wondered with teenage theatrics. “Like our bodyguard?”

  “More or less,” Coy said between bites.

  “Cool,” Ana said, shrugging approvingly at Paige.

  “I figure she can get a job as one of the supervisors,” Coy explained. “Schools always need more narks, don’t they?”

  “I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Pauline breathed with relief. “Now that things are finally settling down around here, I think it’s time for the children to return to school. I mean, they’ve been gone for more than two weeks, and there’s little more than a month left until the end of the school year.” She was directing her words to Missy as a sort of job description. “I’ve just been worried if it’s, you know, safe for them to go back. I’m sure Mr. Coy has told you all about the problems we’ve had in the past with certain individuals at that school.” (Mr. Coy scrunched his face, straining to remember if he had mentioned anything to Missy, though it was obvious he hadn’t.) “I mean, Mr. Quirk was more dimwitted than dangerous, of course, but he and Principal Stone still managed to tie me to the front of a speedboat that plunged headlong into bubbling water, which was almost as bad as when Miss Carmen kidnapped us, then took us to the mouth of an active volcano and threatened to throw us in. And now, with our home being attacked—” Pauline was rambling now, more so speaking to herself than anyone in particular.

  “Mom,” Ana gently prod, trying to bring Pauline back to the table.

  “—What I’m trying to say is,” Pauline continued, finally taking a breath, “I’m glad you’re here. I considered becoming a volunteer myself at the school.”

  At this idea, Ana discreetly turned to Missy and silently mouthed, “NO!”

  Missy grinned. “You don’t need to worry,” placing her hand gently on Pauline’s arm. “I’m sure I can handle things.”

  There was certainly more to Missy than met the eye. She was not a young person, but neither was she very old. Her wavy, shoulder-length hair was stricken with gray in parts, which her self-esteem told her to embrace rather than hide. Like a well-prepared steak, her tough and wrinkled face was only the outer layer of something rare and tender inside. She was a thick woman, more short than tall, with a build like one of those oversized armchairs you’d find in a mountain lodge, heavy and stable. Mr. Coy summed it up best when he called Missy a “beefy old gal.”

  As was Pauline’s hope, more was learned about this week’s guest as the evening wore on. Missy had been raised under harsh conditions in a hostile neighborhood of a large city in another state. Her parents were delinquents and her brothers thugs, so she learned at a very young age how to be tough and fend for herself. She went to work more than school, and her paychecks paid for her family’s addictions and legal fees. More than anything, she wanted to beat the odds and make something of herself, but opportunity lived on the other side of the tracks.

  Stuck in this endless cycle, she was about to give up on life when she met a delightful woman named Helen. Helen had come to the department store where Missy worked to buy some new clothes. As Helen tried on different outfits, she got to know Missy. Helen was distraught to find such a promising person stuck in such dead-end circumstances. Soon thereafter, Helen began to ask for clothes in a size that felt baggy on her but would probably fit just right on Missy. She told Missy she wasn’t much into style and would go with whatever Missy liked best. Helen ended up purchasing bags and bags of apparel and accessories. Then, after Missy finished the transaction, Helen told her, “It’s all yours.”

  Awestruck, Missy listened as Helen told her how she wanted to sponsor Missy to go to college. She would help her apply to an out-of-state school, far from the turmoil of her ravaged home. They would set up a joint bank account to provide her with the necessary funds while she continued to work part-time. And it would all begin as soon as she was ready.

  “And boy, was I ready!” Missy recounted to the group at the table. “In the weeks before I left, I became good friends with Helen and her husband.” She playfully elbowed Mr. Coy, whose eyes seemed to glisten ever since the name of his wife was said. “I went off to school and studied criminal justice, of all things. After graduating—”

  “At the top of her class,” Coy added.

  Blushing, Missy continued, “—the Coys offered me a job as their, well…,” turning to Ana, “as their bodyguard, I guess. They said they needed someone to protect them during their humanitarian trips all over the world.”

  “She’s good with guns,” Coy snuck in.

  “Sweet!” Ana cheered. “Can you teach me?”

  “I’m afraid that’s up to your mother,” Missy told her, chuckling.

  There was something about Missy that Pauline really liked. Actually, there were many things. And so Pauline shocked everyone when she said “We’ll see” as she got up to take her dishes to the sink, marking the end of the meal.

  Of course, Ret was also present at dinner, though he had neither said one word nor taken one bite. He wasn’t eating much these days, claiming he was either not hungry or had lost his appetite. But Pauline knew better; she knew Ret had a cornucopia of things to chew on in his mind. When she saw his untouched plate of chicken and dumplings by the sink, she turned around to confront him, but Ret had already left the room.

  The best thing about going back to school the next day was in the “going” part: the Coopers finally got to see how the Coys crossed Little Tybee Creek onto the mainland. Although some residents referred to the creek as the Wilmington River, it fell somewhere in between. It was less than a thousand feet wide and looked more like a snake-shaped extension of the ocean, completely surrounding Little Tybee Island. And the only way to cross it was by kayak—unless, of course, you’ve ever Ben Coy.

  The route to school began in the hangar, that big
underground room that served as the hub for all transportation to and from the Manor. Until now, however, the Coopers never knew it had an upper level. The descending elevator stopped much sooner than usual, and the three students stepped out, escorted by their chauffeur, Missy. Not far in front of them was the car, just a normal, four-door vehicle. However, it sat in the middle of a wide, circular platform that was suspended in the air, hanging by a series of cables that attached to the nearby ceiling. Connected to the platform was a long bridge that ended at the far wall.

  Ana couldn’t help herself: “Missy, is this the Batcave?”

  Ret took the long way to the car so he could peek over the edge of the platform. The scene below him was dark, so he snapped his fingers and sent a tiny fireball over the edge. It was a long time before it hit the ground.

  As with most departures from the hangar, this one began at high speeds with no sign of an exit at the wall ahead. But, as always, a door appeared. Where the suspended bridge ended, a large, rectangular slice of the wall became disconnected at its top and, hinging at the base, fell flat on the ground outside like a ramp. The speeding car flew out of the hangar and into daylight. Launching from the upper reaches of the underground hangar meant they exited at ground level.