Virginia Hamilton Read online

“There are tests for this ability, Tom-Tom,” Mrs. Douglass said. “It wouldn’t be difficult to go somewhere and have you and Lee tested. There’s a card game that tests for telepathy, clairvoyance and precognition. Five hits in a ‘run’ of twenty-five cards is considered chance.

  “But—and, Tom-Tom, this is interesting—” Mrs. Douglass said, “hits of much less or more both demonstrate psychic ability. …” The word hung in the air, the first time that any of them had mentioned super-or extrasensory functioning of the mind. And they were all aware of it.

  Thomas’ cold and steady gaze bore into his mother as she left off speaking. “Yyyouuu know a-a-lot about it. Youuu must’ve st-stu-studied it. Whu-why?”

  Mrs. Douglass didn’t answer at once.

  “Why do you bring up this story now?” she said, finally, to Thomas. “Why haven’t you told it before?”

  Thomas didn’t answer. He ducked his head, beating his sticks again. “We played other games,” he said, changing the subject. “Maybe we didn’t play much cards, but we sure did play a lot of blind man’s buff. We played it with Pic—I mean, with Ticey, too. She loved playing it.”

  “Another story,” Mrs. Douglass said, “and you didn’t answer my question.”

  But again Thomas ignored her. “The other kids thought Justice was a spoiled brat of a cheat,” he said. “But I knew better because I tied that blindfold over her eyes myself every time. She couldn’t see a thing.

  “Blind Justice,” Thomas added, grinning dreamily at his mom.

  Mrs. Douglass felt suddenly that she must sit down. The room was so stifling.

  “… I have work to do,” she said. “I’d better get on with it.” She turned and slipped out of the room.

  Thomas called after her as though they were still talking: “Justice couldn’t see a thing. But she’d catch a kid every time …”

  No!

  “I … and name the kid. And never call a wrong name—blindfolded!”

  Mrs. Douglass slipped inside Justice’s room and closed the door firmly behind her. She leaned against the door, breathing rapidly.

  Honestly, he is so devilish, she thought about Thomas. I don’t know what he thinks he’s trying to do! I mustn’t let the boys get the best of me.

  Over the years, they’d often pretend to be each other. Parents of identicals had to get used to games like that. She might spend days thinking one was the other. It had been exasperating at times; but the boys had played such tricks less and less as they grew older.

  She calmed herself, going over to the bed where Justice lay sound asleep. Justice looked like a rumpled doll. She had the kitchen radio cradled in her arms. It was plugged in behind the bed and the cord was tangled between her toes. Her shoes and socks lay at the foot of the bed where she had kicked them; and she had bunched a woven knapsack beneath her head.

  Mrs. Douglass eased away the rough knapsack; Justice’s head lolled sideways onto her pillow. Then Mrs. Douglass carefully removed the radio from her arms. Justice woke, eyes half open, and clutched it back again.

  “Mom … Mommy. You’re home.” Smiling.

  “Shhh … Hi, baby. Go back to sleep.”

  Lightly, Mrs. Douglass kissed Justice, and Justice snuggled in the hollow of her mother’s neck.

  Her face was hot and wet with perspiration, Mrs. Douglass noticed. Her breath was warm and even. It was so nice having still a baby in the house. Well, not really a baby, Mrs. Douglass thought. But Justice wasn’t quite grown-up yet, either. Mrs. Douglass touched her hair. Justice’s eyes remained half open and her mother saw sleep enter them again.

  “I’m taking the radio away so you can rest,” she said softly.

  “Don’t take it,” Justice moaned. She awoke, eyes gazing sleepily at her mom. “It was saying things about Thomas and Levi,” Justice said.

  Mrs. Douglass laughed. “Over the radio?”

  “Oh,” Justice said. She had to smile. “Must’ve been dreaming.”

  “I guess,” said Mrs. Douglass. She eased the radio free and reached across the bed and down over the side to pull out the plug.

  “It says a lot about weather,” Justice mumbled. “Weather all over the world.”

  “On this little bitty radio?” Mrs. Douglass said gently.

  “All over the States. And a dust bowl is coming.

  “It’ll rain soon,” Mrs. Douglass said. “It always does.”

  “All over the world,” Justice whispered as sleep overtook her, “dust is coming.”

  Mrs. Douglass regarded her daughter. She held the radio and bunched the plug under her arm as Justice curled in, knees nearly to her chin. Still a baby she was, so soft and safe in the room. Hands and clothes sweaty and marked with dirt of play.

  She knew that perhaps she was being sentimental, but lying there she saw sweet innocence showing signs of learning and growing. Of knowing. What more could there possibly be!

  Mrs. Douglass was satisfied with what she saw—her little Ticey, exhausted from playing too hard.

  But at least stay home for the winter quarter, Mrs. Douglass thought. Makes sure Ticey eats right. The boys are so busy when school is on. Who will take care of her then?

  Silently, she left the room, pulling the door to, but not shutting it completely.

  I do not like closed doors, Mrs. Douglass was reminded.

  She headed back down the hall and ran into Thomas coming out of his and Lee’s bedroom. He took the radio, carrying it into the kitchen for her.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I’ll get the groceries.” But Levi was ahead of her and Thomas, and already had the groceries in the kitchen.

  “The food’s going to spoil one day,” he said as his mother came in. “You forget all the time to put it away.”

  “I didn’t forget. Had to make my rounds,” she said. “Anyway, food can’t spoil that fast.”

  “I-i-inn this heat it muh-muh-ight,” Thomas said. “Sp-specially mmmeat.” He pulled out a family pack of chops, holding it up to show Levi.

  “Haven’t seen that in a while,” Levi said.

  “And for good reason,” his mother said. “Shouldn’t have pork more than once a month.”

  “We going to have them tonight, I hope?” Levi said.

  “Well, we shouldn’t,” she said. “It’s too hot. But I’m hungry for them, I truly am.”

  “A-a-and some cccorn!” Thomas exclaimed.

  “On the cob?” she asked. “I didn’t buy any on the cob.”

  “No, whole-kernel,” said Levi, “canned. And we fry it up with bacon and green pepper and onion.”

  “A-a-and butter,” Thomas added.

  “Can we have the chops from in the oven?” asked Levi. “Smothered in tomato sauce!”

  “Goodness,” Mrs. Douglass said.

  “A-a-and no-no gr-green veh-veh—greens at-at all,” Thomas said. “But bbbaked po-ta-to.”

  “Yeah!” Levi said.

  “That’s probably too much starch,” Mrs. Douglass said. “Well. I’d better put the potatoes in soon if we’re to have them for dinner. First, let me change my clothes. I’ll only take a minute. Get out of these slacks into some shorts.”

  “I’ll put the potatoes in,” Levi said. “And I’ll start the meat.” He could cook chops as well as she, Mrs. Douglass knew.

  It was so nice to have the boys with her all to herself this way. She appreciated close and simple family things, particularly after a long day away from home.

  Levi had the potatoes out and was rinsing them in the sink. She and Thomas finished putting the groceries away.

  “Lee,” she said, “turn the oven on high for a while. Let the potatoes get started …”

  “I know,” he said.

  “… before you put in the chops. And don’t forget to season them first before you put on the sauce. And use the porcelain pan.”

  “Mom, I know,” Levi told her.

  “H-h-heee knows,” Thomas echoed.

  “Okay, guys,” she said, “I’ll be back in a minute.
” She smiled brightly at them.

  They grinned back, barely, already busy with the feast they would make.

  “I’ll do the corn when I come back,” she said, and left them.

  Levi put potatoes in the oven, turning up the heat to 450°.

  Thomas stiffened as something seemed to come over him. His eyes turned dark and brooding. A long look passed between him and his brother as Levi closed the oven.

  Levi paled. Terror-stricken, he covered his eyes as his brother’s gaze on him turned deadly. But then, in a futile gesture, he let his hands fall to his sides.

  Thomas’ look was harsh and triumphant. Clearly, in less than a minute he had won out about something. And giving Levi one last cold, commanding stare, he lunged for the side door and vanished from the house.

  The kitchen became unnaturally quiet as Lee, like a sleepwalker, went over to the counter again. Absentmindedly, he began slowly seasoning chops and slicing onions.

  Outside, just out of sight of the side door, Thomas leaned against the house. He had opened that strange passageway between his brother’s mind and his own. Now he funneled himself—his mind—through the passage to stand to one side in his brother’s brain. He certainly had perfect control. And standing there with hot sun on his bare back, he would keep control for as long as he wanted.

  7

  LEVI FELT A THROB of pain over his left eye as he stood there at the kitchen counter. He couldn’t think why he should have a headache now when he felt so good fixing—He couldn’t recall what he had been doing. He looked down to see pork chops and onions in the porcelain pan; he didn’t remember slicing any onions. He did recall having turned the oven up high to cook potatoes. He must have been daydreaming, because he sure didn’t recall those onions. And he would have to wait awhile on the potatoes before he could turn down the oven and put the meat in.

  Levi poured sauce evenly over the chops. There was something in the back of his mind he needed to remember. He had to tell his mom something important, but each time he tried to remember what it was, his head would throb all the harder.

  He thought vaguely, Something to do with Ticey, and his headache immediately got worse.

  Or did it have to do with Tom-Tom?

  Through a cloud of headache pain, he remembered Thomas disappearing from the house. But that was all.

  Mom … Warn …

  Pain exploded behind his eye, halting all thought. Levi sucked air through clenched teeth and stifled a wrenching moan. Now it was revealed to him what was happening. Thomas was inside his brain. He could feel his brother’s strength surrounding him. Knew that he was a prisoner and that there was no escape for him until Thomas was finished with him and let him go.

  Warn Mom about what, Lee? Thomas stood to one side, tracing these words on Levi’s mind. This way of communicating mind within mind pleased him. For while tracing, he never stuttered.

  Not so much to warn, finally Levi traced back. He sighed inwardly. Standing at the counter, he was shaking. Thomas had spun an illusion. Levi saw himself trapped in a wooden cup with a crack in it from rim to base. The cup soaked in a dishpan; and through the crack it was filling with soapy water. Thomas could weave terrible illusions. Levi had been forced in the past to visit incredible places where he was in constant danger. Thomas’ strength over him weakened his nerve and damaged his will.

  Yeah, buddy, you’re weak, all right, Thomas traced. But it’s not my fault. I couldn’t do any of this if you were ever strong enough to stop me.

  Then why do you have to do it? Levi traced.

  Well, do I ever get you hurt? Huh?

  You scare me half to death, traced Levi. Get me out of this cup, will you? The dishwater’s up to my knees!

  Don’t you think I know it? Thomas traced back. Don’t be such a scaredy-cat, Lee. I get afraid of it the same as you and I’m the one that has to figure a way for you to get out.

  One of these times, I’ll never get out. I’ll die!

  Now, don’t be dumb. But Thomas could feel Levi’s terror grow as the dishwater rose to his waist. Thomas conjured up some underwater cement and tossed a tube of it over the rim of the cup to Levi.

  Levi caught it and quickly began to seal the crack. He saw handholds and footholds materialize up the side of the cup where there had been none a moment before.

  Thanks, Levi traced as he began to climb out.

  Sorry I didn’t think of it sooner, Thomas traced back.

  Levi was over the rim. He jumped down into darkness, full of the sense that his brother was with him and would land him on something dry and soft. He landed on a worn mattress on the floor of a small, cold cell. There were bars all around him. He tested them, but they were strong metal and he could not get out.

  What was it you were gonna warn Mom about? Thomas traced.

  Let me out of here! And get me rid of this headache, Tom-Tom.

  Oh, you’ll get out, Thomas traced. And you’ll get over the headache when you tell Mom what I want you to tell her.

  I was just going to tell her about Ticey, Levi traced. Somehow, but without letting her know what it is Ticey knows. Tom-Tom, why did you have to let Ticey find out about us? It’s got her worried and she’ll make herself sick with it. And what was the big idea of giving Mom clues like that in the bedroom? You must be clean out of your mind!

  I got my reasons, Thomas traced. And I’ll fix Ticey’s wagon, that’s the whole point.

  Tom-Tom, you better not hurt her!

  That’s a laugh, Thomas traced. Why do you suppose I told Mom stuff like I told her?

  Maybe to cover your tracks, traced Levi, in case Ticey decides to tell her what she knows.

  Wrong, buddy. And especially I told about Ticey blindfolded …

  That was a lie, too, Levi broke in. Ticey never cheated and you know it. She was too young even to know how to cheat.

  Boy, Lee, you are what they call some dumb. Ticey never cheated because she didn’t have to.

  Levi was ever so still in his cell. He clutched the bars until his hands ached, when he began to trace: You’re out of your mind, Tom-Tom.

  Yeah? Then picture this: I couldn’t find her out there in the hedgerow this morning—right? Even though I knew she had to be there. But I couldn’t find her. Why? Because, buddy, she wouldn’t let me find her.

  If you think … Levi couldn’t finish.

  You don’t have to think anything, dummy, Thomas traced, because I know. There’s not just two of us—you and me. It’s you, me and Justice—it’s us three!

  Levi bowed his head against the bars and closed his eyes on the darkness. It’s not possible, he traced weakly, I would’ve known. I would have.

  No, not if she didn’t know, herself. Don’t you see? traced Thomas. Listen, I didn’t get back at her for copying my stutter—you know, when she came back home. Oh, I wasn’t going to hurt her. I was planning on scaring her some, make her mad. But I couldn’t. And you know why I couldn’t? Because they wouldn’t let me. But I didn’t let them know I knew.

  What? Levi traced. Didn’t let who know you knew what?

  Lee! Don’t you get it yet? There ain’t only the three of us. There’s somebody else. Maybe more than one somebody, and they won’t let me break through to Ticey. They have her cut off from us, from me, and keep her from knowing besides.

  A moment of stunned silence, after which Levi seemed to scream through his tracing: Let me out! I want to get out now—let me out of here, Tom-Tom!

  There was suddenly a huge rumbling in his head, like enormous, echoing steps of a giant.

  Listen! Thomas traced. Mom is coming. And you’d better hear me, too. I’ll take away the bars and everything and we’ll continue this talk later. But you’ll say what I want to Mom. Because I know who has to be keeping me from Justice.

  Maybe you should be kept from her, Levi traced quickly. You just want to hurt her. I know you do!

  Just you remember, Lee. I can give you a headache like nothing you’ve ever had.

 
The bars and the cell vanished suddenly as Mrs. Douglass came hurrying into the kitchen. Levi could feel pain from the very top of his head to the bottom of his feet. It was a headache gone on a rampage for a split second as Thomas proved what he could do. Then the pain settled back over Levi’s left eye as a throbbing reminder.

  “Well!” Mrs. Douglass exclaimed. “I see you have everything ready.”

  “Just have to open the cans of corn,” Levi said easily. All notion of Thomas being present had left him. The memory of their mutual conversation had been folded away in a handkerchief and placed neatly in Thomas’ back pocket.

  “Don’t worry about the corn—I don’t need to fix it quite yet,” Mrs. Douglass told Levi. “You can put the chops in now, don’t you think? Turn down the oven to three-fifty and the potatoes can finish cooking along with the meat.”

  Levi did as he was told.

  “Where did Thomas go?” she asked as he straightened up, closing the oven.

  “Oh … he ran off somewhere.”

  “Outside?” she asked.

  “I think so. Thomas can’t stand much kitchen work,” Levi said, and then: “Is Justice still asleep?” He leaned against the counter where he had been working.

  “Yes, poor baby, she’s exhausted,” his mother said. She sat down at the table a moment. Eyes vacant, she sighed, looking tired and somewhat drawn.

  Levi wanted to talk to her about how she felt. He wanted to ask if she wasn’t doing too much—taking courses and trying to keep up with home, too. He only wanted to sympathize, to show that he cared about her and missed her during the day. But he said nothing. Words would not come to him, as if, when he was about to speak, he would forget even the shape of the words he wanted.

  He recalled he had something very important to say. But this, too, escaped him. All that came to mind was something concerning Justice that he didn’t really want to speak of. He began saying it, anyway, and he could not stop himself.

  “Mom …” reluctantly he began. “Justice slips off and kind of roams the whole town—that’s why she gets so tired. And I think she’s spending a lot of time—maybe too much time—down at Mrs. Jefferson’s. I don’t know what she does down there. She keeps it secret.”