Chapter 5

Chapter 5:
HOMESICK

Over the course of the next few days, people who had witnessed what became known as “Zero’s Knife Throwing Act” were asked repeatedly to retell the story to those who had not seen it. However, these stories didn’t always end the same. Many people said that Alex ducked her head out of the way just in time, and her catching of the knife by the handle was pure luck. At this point in the story, people usually shivered as they imagined what would have happened if Alex had caught the wrong end of the steak knife.

Other people said a miracle occurred because the knife seemed to change directions as it was speeding towards Alex’s face. One moment it looked like it was going to slice through her cheek, and the next it was speeding toward her hand.

If you had asked Clark Johnson what had happened, he would have told you that Alex must have had a magnet in her hand. From his perspective, it appeared that the knife did indeed change directions. Not only that, the way Clark told the story, the knife seemed to stop spinning briefly before hitting the palm of Alex’s hand—almost as if the knife knew Alex had to catch it by the handle and not the blade. Even Clark’s brother Jack didn’t believe that part of his story.

Only Alex knew how close Clark’s story came to the truth. For the second time in one day, Alex had done the one thing both her grandpa and the General had told her not to do. She had used her power to pull an object into her hand. But what else was she supposed to do? When the knife was spinning toward her at a vicious speed, it was only instinct for Alex to think about catching it so that neither she nor anyone else got hurt. And as for catching it by the handle—of course, she concentrated on moving the handle into her palm. Who would want to catch a knife by its blade?

Of course, there was a small handful of people who simply believed Alex had great catching instincts. Foremost among these people was the man in the white shirt with the word “Coach” across the back. As soon as he saw Zero pick up the knife to throw at Magnum, he hopped up and yelled, “Zero! No!”

When the coach saw Alex catch the knife, he was momentarily stunned into silence. Then he ran up to Alex. In her left hand, she held a half-spilled glass of milk. In her right hand, she still held the knife. Both hands were shaking.

“In all my years of coaching softball,” he began, “I’ve never seen a catch like that.” He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it. “Who are you?”

Carrie ran up beside Alex. “Coach, this is my new roommate. She’d make a good catcher for the team, don’t you think? I mean, some people are saying she’d make a good pitcher, but after what we just saw, I think she’d really be a better catcher.”

The coach looked Alex right in the eyes. “What’s your name?”

Alex looked up into the big brown eyes of the handsome man in the coach’s shirt. His chiseled jaw was set in a wide grin that showed off his gleaming white, perfectly straight teeth.

“A – Alex,” she stammered. “Jones.”

The coach cradled her shaking right hand in his two strong hands. “I’m Coach Skule. Why don’t you let me take this knife now? O.K., Alex?” Alex nodded, the shaking of her hands spreading to the rest of her body as she realized how close she had come to having her cheek sliced off.

Coach Skule slipped the knife out of Alex’s hands. Then he looked up to check on Zero and Magnum; security was already hauling the two of them away.

“So what do you think, Coach?” Carrie was hopping with excitement beside Alex. “Don’t you think she would make a great catcher?”

The coach’s smile got even wider. “I think you’re right, Carrie. What do you say, Alex? We could use a good catcher like you on our team.”

“Oh, well, I’ve never played softball before, but my grandpa did teach me about baseball.”

“Perfect,” beamed the coach. “We’ve got a month before the softball season begins. I’m sure Carrie will help you prepare. In the meantime, Carrie, why don’t you get our new catcher a fresh glass of milk?” Coach took the half empty glass from Alex and handed it to Carrie. “And, Alex, why don’t you go back to your table and relax for a bit? You still seem a bit shaken up. We’ll talk more about softball later. I need to fill out my security report.”

With that, Coach Skule walked away, and Alex returned to her seat.
Simona’s dark eyes were like saucers. “Alex, that was amazing!”

“The chance of making a catch like that . . .” Yvonne paused as if mentally calculating the chances.

“Who cares about the chances? She did it!” exclaimed Jack. He leaned over the table. “Do you think you could do it again, leak?”

“Maybe,” Alex shrugged. If she used her ability, she knew she could it again, but she couldn’t tell them that. Then she smiled a little. “Of course, Jack, if you keep calling me a leak, I might not stop any knife that was headed toward you.” That got a loud laugh from Clark, and a few snickers from the rest.

“Nice one,” Carrie commented as she sat down beside Alex and handed her a new glass of milk.

For the remainder of the meal, the seventh grade students pumped Alex for information about where she lived and how she had gotten to the moon. She kept to the story she had told to Carrie. When Jack asked what was wrong with the space station home she had left, Alex made up a story about the air recycling system malfunctioning, and her grandpa wasn’t sure they were getting an adequate amount of oxygen. It sounded life-threatening enough without being too dramatic. Alex noticed most of the students were riveted to her story, but Sam and Adam whispered to each other periodically. Alex thought she caught the words shirt and yanking, along with a few leak’s thrown in.
When it was time to go, Alex followed the rest of the seventh graders to the trash chutes. Most of them had already stepped out into the hallway, but Adam and Sam lurked behind until it was Alex’s turn. Adam stepped right in front of the trash chute Alex was aiming for. His arms were crossed, and the glare he gave Alex rivaled the one she had given him earlier that day.

“You might have wowed a few people with your lucky catch back there,” Adam scoffed, “but make no mistake about it. We don’t trust you. You’re still a leak.” Alex made no response, but chewed her lip until Adam stepped aside and exited with Sam.
Once she had disposed of her tray, Alex hurried out into the hallway. Had Carrie remembered that she was supposed to show her to their room?

Carrie was standing outside the dining hall. “There you are!” she exclaimed. “What took you so long?”

“Oh, nothing.” Alex didn’t want to repeat what Adam had said to her. Did everyone think she was a leak?

“Let’s head this way,” Carrie led her in the opposite direction of the rest of the seventh graders. “I’ve got to take you to see Madame Oberin first.”

“Madame who?” Alex worried how she would ever keep everyone’s names straight. Back at home, she had only two names to worry about: Grandma and Grandpa.

“Madame Oberin,” replied Carrie. The two girls stepped into an elevator. “Second floor,” announced Carrie, and the lift began to move. “She’s like our foster mom, only much tougher than any mom I’ve ever met. She lost all of her own children during the Final Battle. Tragic.” Carrie shook her head as they exited the elevator and turned left.

“All of them?”

“Yeah, she had seven of them. Now she’s in charge of the orphans here, so she’s got like 50 or 60 kids now. Something like that—Yvonne could tell you the exact number.”
Carrie and Alex turned the corner and were greeted by a sturdy-looking woman in her 60s. Her steel grey hair was cut into a blunt bob, one side of which was carefully pinned back. Alex had the impression that if one of the woman’s grey hairs had dared to fly out of place, she would have deemed it impossible to continue her work until that hair had been properly taken care of.

“This must be Alex Jones, I suppose.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Yes, Madame Oberin,” replied Carrie.

Madame Oberin’s murky brown eyes took in Alex’s appearance. “Hmph,” was her only comment about that. “Let’s get you to the sleeping quarters you’ll be sharing with Carrie.” She turned and started heading toward the opposite end of the hallway. I see you already have your PTD. Excellent. You’ll need it for entrance into your room. This room over here,” she indicated a doorway that read Madame Oberin, Orphan Supervisor, “is where you can find me in an emergency, but please,” she held up one hand, “only come to my room if you cannot reach me via PTD first.” She glanced over her shoulder at the two girls. “I’m not always in my room, you know. The PTD is the most efficient way to find me. No use wasting your time running all over the complex.”
Alex noticed that Madame Oberin’s gait seemed brisk and efficient, too. No unnecessary arm swaying, just get from Point A to Point B as fast as possible.

“This section of the dormitory is for the male students.” Madame Oberin gestured toward the doors as they passed, each labeled with a room number. “You will not be spending any time here.” Carrie and Alex exchanged glances.

“Coming up is the common area of the dormitory. This section is accessible to both the boys and the girls between the hours of 8:00 a.m. and 10:00 p.m., if you should decide to form a co-educational study group. It also offers a lovely view of the playdium.”

The hallway opened up, and Alex found herself in a modern, but comfortable looking room. Students were spread across the couches and chairs. Some had their heads in their books; others were engaged in conversation. Many of them looked up when Alex stepped into the room.

“Jeffrey!” Madame Oberin hollered. “Put . . . your . . . feet . . . down.” The last statement was made with crisp, clipped words spurted out in a staccato fashion. A blond boy immediately pulled his feet down from the table they had been propped on. Madame Oberin looked at her watch. “Only two hours left in the common area tonight.” This was followed by a few groans.

Madame Oberin continued her tour. “This side of the dormitory is for the young ladies. After 10:00 each night, you’ll need to remain on this half of the hallway. Ah, here we are now.” Madame Oberin stopped in front of a doorway on her left. Room 111, the sign read.

Carried reached for the PTD on her ear.

“Let Alex try hers,” said Madame Oberin. “Let’s see if she’s programmed into the system yet.”

Alex pulled the PTD off her ear. She had almost forgotten it was there. Alex glanced up at Madame Oberin, who nodded encouragement, then placed the PTD before the panel beside the door. It slid open.

“Perfect,” declared Madame Oberin. “Well, I’ll leave you two girls to get acquainted. Carrie, make sure Alex is up to date on all our protocol here. Remember, curfew is 10:00. Lights out by 11:00. If you need me, try reaching me on your PTD.” Madame Oberin turned and walked back down the hallway.

“After you,” Carrie gestured toward the room.

Alex stepped inside. The room wasn’t big, but it held two twin beds, a pair of nightstands, and a couple of desks. One side of the room would have looked like a mirror image of the other if it weren’t for the softball and sport photos Carrie had hanging up on her side of the room.

“This is your closet.” Carrie pushed a panel door aside. Alex’s new clothes were already inside, as well as her spacesuit and her old clothes. “That’s your bed and that’s your desk.” A few books were spread out on the top of the desk and a shirt was draped over the back of the chair. “Oh,” Carrie snatched up the shirt and books. “Sorry, about that. They didn’t give me any warning that I was getting a roommate.” Carrie put her belongings back on her side of the room. “Oberin does inspections of our rooms every Monday night, so make sure your side of the room is tidy by then.”

Alex nodded. Could she ever think of this as her room? She pictured her old room back at home: the pink and blue quilt her grandmother had made for her bed, her shelves of books, and the mural Grandpa had painted on her wall. From memory he had drawn the old skyscrapers that had graced his hometown of Chicago before the Final Battle. She went to sleep every night snuggled up with her grandmother’s handiwork while admiring Grandpa’s rendition of the old Chicago skyline. This is only temporary, she told herself now as she looked at the blank wall and the plain red bedspread. Grandpa’s coming back soon. She walked across the room and peeked behind the shades that were covering the window.

“We’re really lucky to be on this side of the hallway,” said Carrie. “We get a nice view of the playdium.”

She was right. Their room was on the second level and looked out over the softball field. In the distance, Alex could see the wooded area. She knew that if she could see beyond the trees, she would see the track where she had beaten Adam. Her stomach lurched a bit at the memory. Had she really used her power to beat a boy in a race? And what good did it do me? she thought. Adam totally thinks I’m a leak. Then she remembered the reason why she had wanted to beat him so bad. Tomorrow would be her birthday, and there was no one there who would help her celebrate.

“Do you want to head down to the common area?” Carrie gestured with her thumb.
Alex sat down on her bed. “No, thanks.” Exhaustion consumed her. “I think I just want to go to bed.”

“Yeah, I guess traveling from Mars must be a pain.”

Alex nodded. Then she let her head hit the pillow.

“Alright, I’m going to head down to the common area with the others. Bathroom’s two doors down on the right if you need it. I’ll try not to wake you when I come back. Can’t make any promises, though. I’m not used to having a roommate.”
Carrie needn’t have worried about waking Alex; she fell into a deep sleep shortly after Carrie left the room.

* * *

When she did finally wake up, it was with a start and two thoughts consumed her: 1) It wasn’t a dream—I really am on the moon! and 2) It’s my birthday, and I’m alone!
Alex groaned softly as she sat up in bed. She looked around. Carrie wasn’t in the room, and her bed was already made. Something small and black was on the floor. Alex bent down and realized it was her PTD. Better hang onto that, she thought. Alex headed toward the closet and pulled some of her new clothes from the closet. Then she ventured out into the hallway. No one was around. Which way had Carrie said was the washroom? Alex wandered down the hallway a bit and found a room marked Girls’ Lavatory. Alex wasn’t sure what this meant, but it didn’t have a room number so she figured it must be safe. She waved her PTD, and the door slid open.

Alex breathed a sigh of relief. The room was indeed a washroom with several private shower stalls. Never in her life had Alex enjoyed a hot shower more than she did that morning.

She dressed quickly in one of her new skorts and a white v-neck shirt, topping it all off with her grandfather’s old blue baseball cap. By the time Alex found her way down to the dining hall, most of the colony had finished eating breakfast. Alex sat alone at the otherwise empty seventh grade table and felt the awkward stares of the few remaining diners. She didn’t stay long. As soon as she was finished, Alex sent her tray down the chute and headed out. Not knowing what to do next, Alex wandered through the moon colony. Pieces of it seemed familiar to her from her tour with Marta the day before. However, she must have gone down a different hallway at one point, for Alex suddenly found herself in a spot she hadn’t seen previously.

A long set of windows ran the length of the hallway. Stepping over to them, Alex peered down into a hangar, a giant room for storing spaceships. Alex marveled at the variety before her. Grandpa’s old Rock Jumper was the only ship she had ever seen up close. Sure, she had occasionally seen other little ships flying over her island back home, and then there were those hoverships that had come looking for her, but these were real rocket ships. Some of them were small with a tiny cockpit on top for a fighter pilot and thin wings on each side for quick maneuvering. Others were large tubes with pointed noses at one end and massive rocket boosters at the other. A few technicians were moving around below the ships, checking parts here and there. The whirring of electric screwdrivers and the pounding of hammers floated up to Alex. She wondered how often these ships were used and where they flew.

For a moment, Alex had visions of breaking into the rocket hanger, stealing a ship, and flying home on her own. She knew the flight was too long to make it home before her birthday ended, but at least she . . . Alex stopped mid-thought. What was the point? She didn’t know how to fly, and even if she could manage one of those smaller rocket ships, where would she go? Emperor Devlesh’s men were probably watching over her old house, and who knew where Grandpa had gone looking for Grandma?

Alex resigned herself to spending her birthday alone. She turned away from the windows and rambled down the hallway. Eventually, she found her way inside the playdium. It was a beautiful day inside the artificial atmosphere. The sky was programmed to be blue that day with a few clouds drifting by.

Alex stopped short inside the entranceway. Adam was sitting alone on top of the bleachers. He had a notebook and an old-fashioned pencil in his hands.
Not in the mood for a confrontation, Alex tried to sneak behind the bleachers to the other side of the playdium.

“I can see ya, leak,” Adam called out without turning around.

Alex didn’t break her stride. “Yeah, so? I can see you, too.” Alex thought she heard Adam snort as she walked away.

In the wooded area, Alex began examining the trees. They were definitely real—and of all shapes, sizes, and sorts. Alex recognized some of them—palm trees, mangroves, guava trees—from her island back home. Many of them were completely new to her, but some reminded her of the trees in her grandmother’s photos of the old family home back in Chicago. Alex tried to remember what her grandmother had said they were. Maple trees? Oak trees? Deep into the wooded area, she came across several evergreens—Christmas trees her grandmother had called them. There were at least two of every variety, as if someone had decided this section of the moon colony would be a “Noah’s ark” for trees. Alex’s heart soared when she saw two Monkey Pod trees. They were like some of the ones she used to climb daily on her island home.

Wasting no time, Alex climbed one of the Monkey Pod trees. It felt good to get her hands around rough tree bark again. Her new moon boots weren’t quite as adept at scaling up the trunk as her old shoes had been, but they worked. Higher and higher she climbed, her feet and hands knowing which branches to reach for and which to push off of.

At last, she found herself hidden among the top branches of the tree. The Monkey Pod stretched out far around her. As is usually the case with Monkey Pods, this tree was much wider than it was tall. Its branches spread out in a shape similar to the top of a mushroom. Alex didn’t mind that it wasn’t the tallest tree in the playdium. For the moment, she felt enveloped in its branches, and the smell of home was heart-achingly familiar.

Alex spent hours up in that tree. Occasionally, she switched to a new position, but mostly she thought of the past few days. How quickly life had changed! She wondered where her grandfather was now. Had he made it back to Earth yet? Were the Emperor’s henchmen waiting for him? Would he be able to find Grandma? Earth was such a big planet. Where would Grandpa start his search?

Then she thought about her birthday. Last year’s birthday had been terribly sad because Grandma had been gone almost a year. Since Grandpa wasn’t much of a baker, Alex had made her own birthday cake, chocolate with pink frosting. The cake had tasted fine, but Alex didn’t have the fancy decorating touch her grandmother had. When she blew out the candles on that cake, she wished Grandma would be back in time for thirteenth birthday. No such luck.

Now she was turning thirteen and everything was ten times worse, Alex decided. She had neither of her grandparents with her, and she didn’t know when her grandfather would return. Alex considered telling someone that it was her birthday, but who would really care?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a stern voice below.

“Alexandra!” The voice hollered out the staccato-style command. “Get . . . down . . . off . . . that . . . tree!”