Awakened: Book One of the Mind Agents series

Awakened: Book One of the Mind Agents series, Chapter 1

Jack bursts in with a slam of the screen door against the trailer's inside wall and that familiar metallic whine as it closes behind him. His keys make a loud clack when he throws them at the table. He tosses his backpack on top of the couch's exposed spring.

"Janice?" he calls out to the house.

He hears clumsy rummaging in the kitchen. That can't be good.

He rounds the plywood divider to see Grandpa in his mangy pink bathrobe preparing a meal.

"Whoa, whoa, Grandpa. What are you doing?" He rushes to his side and finds he's poured a box of dried mac-and-cheese noodles into a bowl and is unscrewing the cap of a bottle of fabric softener.

"No, no, no!" Jack says, lifting the bottle out of Grandpa's reach. He's at least five inches taller than Grandpa now. "Where did you get that?"

"Leave go of my milk, you brat! Let me eat!"

"Grandpa, where's Janice?"

"Who?"

Jack thumps his back against the fridge and brings his hand to his forehead.

Grandpa turns slowly to face Jack. "Get out of here! Leave me alone! What are you doing in my house?!" He rattles off a string of insults and reproaches.

Jack blocks them out and tries to remember if he put all the laundry and cleaning supplies in a box in the back closet. He's sure he did. He looks around the kitchen. There are dishes piled in the sink, a hammer and some nails on the countertop, and an unopened box of once-frozen lasagna in the dish strainer covered in condensation. There's an upturned laundry basket on the floor and clothes strewn through the trailer.

"Janice didn't show up today," Jack says incredulously, more to himself than Grandpa.

"I told you to stay back!" Grandpa turns back to his "cereal."

Jack marches into the back room and puts the fabric softener in the closet, then marches back, kicking the laundry basket out of his way.

"Everything you need to eat is in here, okay, Grandpa?" he motions to the refrigerator and surrounding cupboards.

Grandpa scowls at Jack, his mouth agape. His wisps of white hair twist up off his liver-spotted dome. "You're talking crazy. Now where the hell is my spoon?"

Jack puts his arm around Grandpa.

"Get your hands off me!" he yells. Then he softens. "Wait, I think I remember you."

"Yeah, yeah, it's me."

"You're the one who tried to feed me the poison!" He starts throwing punches at Jack.

Jack pushes his flimsy fists back and says, "Okay, Grandpa, okay. Nobody's trying to poison you." He leads Grandpa to the table and sits him in the torn dinette chair.

He notices one of the sliding doors is open to the back yard and a scattered pile of blown-in leaves has accumulated.

Despite the cool air coming in, Jack suddenly feels overheated after his vigorous walk—okay, run—home from school. He throws off his leather jacket. He remembers he wanted to hang out with Bee after school, but he didn't see her in seventh period. Everybody got called to homeroom to take some kind of state-mandated test. His mind wandered during the test and he lost track of himself. It was just a bunch of weird multiple-choice questions with shapes. Next thing he knew he was home. He didn't intend to get so worked up, but it was one of those trips home where his mind got going. He couldn't stop the spiral of his thoughts. He thought about his life, how he got here. It all traces back to the accident. He doesn't want to think about it anymore, but it hangs over him like a storm.