Split

By Renae Brumbaugh Green

“Mr. Everhart, you’re daydreaming again.” Mrs. Crandle taps the screen at the front of the room, her finger poised like a knife, ready to slice through what’s left of my dignity.

Then the heavens smile. “Mrs. Crandle,” Principal Owens’s voice booms through the intercom, “Daniel Everhart is needed in the office. He’s being signed out.”

I don’t have to be asked twice. I’m in the hall before you can say, “Algebra sucks” five times fast.

Except I’m pretty sure this won’t end well. After last night’s fiasco with Harrison, Mom’s probably got me an appointment with some shrink. Or maybe she’s got an appointment for herself and wants to let me know. I mean, how is she supposed to react to learning her only son has the ability to split and be in two places at once?

When I get to the office, Mom’s waiting for me, but that’s not who my eyes target. Harrison’s behind her. Seriously? Hasn’t he done enough already, spying on me and ratting out my secret?

“Hello, Daniel.” Today he’s wearing a khaki shirt and pants, and the theme song from Indiana Jones runs through my head.

“What are you two doing here?” My words come out dry and cottony.

“Your mom gave me permission to spend a little more time with you.”

I look at Mom. Her face is a mix of pain and heartbreak rolled up in a breakfast burrito of Superman steel. She’s freaked out, knowing her son’s a freak. Who wouldn’t be?

“Harrison, would you give us a few moments?” Without waiting for his response, Mom takes me into the counselor’s office and shuts the door. Good thing the room’s empty, ‘cause the last thing I need is a freaked-out Mrs. Forbes, who’d probably end up needing her own counselor after we left.

Mom motions to two chairs. She grabs a tissue and dabs her eyes. “After your father disappeared, our lawyer gave me a key to a lockbox. Your father instructed him to deliver it to me if anything were to happen to him…” She takes a deep breath. “This was inside the lockbox.” She fumbles in the oversized bag she calls a purse and pulls out a tiny black cube.

“What is it?”

“You’ll see.” Mom sets the cube on the table between us and pushes a button on the side.

A red 3D hologram spins and halts. It’s Dad! I can’t stop the pressure growing in my chest. For a minute, everything in the world—no, the universe—converges in this room.

“Hello, Tonna.” Dad’s voice fills the space, fills every part of me. “I’d hoped you’d never have to view this message. But since you are, I need you to listen closely.”

The image rotates once and changes color to green. “At some point, when Daniel’s older, a man will come into your lives—an archaeologist. I don’t know when or where, but he’ll come. I won’t reveal his name. I know you, Tonna. You’ll want to find him as soon as you get this message, but you must wait. Let him come to you. He’ll have information about Daniel’s abilities and his future—information he’s spent years assembling. It’s important that you let this man help Daniel.”

Mom’s right knee bounces up and down, and her shoe sounds like a woodpecker on the floor. She twists and tears the tissue in her hands into little pieces and lets them fall to the ground.

“I can’t go into details now,” the Dad-hologram continues, “but you must trust me. Daniel’s gifts will require special guidance. This man will help our son. Daniel’s gifts may lead him into danger. This man will do everything in his power to protect Daniel and make sure he can protect himself.”

My chest collapses. I can’t catch my breath. Dad’s right in front of me, talking about my weird split-in-two abilities. How did he know? The image rotates again, turns blue. “Tonna, you and Daniel are my world. No matter what’s happened to me, always remember, I’m with you. And I love you.”

He flickers twice and disappears.

I hate crying. But tears have to go somewhere when stupid emotions force them out.

Mom’s ready with a wad of tissues. She hands me a couple and replaces her tattered ones with another wad. “Your father’s explorations took him all over the world. Before he disappeared, I thought he was having a mental breakdown. I’d hear him in his office talking to himself and answering back. He’d roam the house at night. When he did lie down, he’d have nightmares. He’d scream things like, ‘Not Daniel! Take me instead. Take me.’”

I reach out, take her hand, trying to breathe. But my lungs won’t cooperate.

“After Dad disappeared, I convinced myself he’d gotten himself killed. I was sure his mental health was the culprit. Then I watched this message, and it confirmed my suspicions. I shoved all this to the back of my mind and locked the door on it. Until now.”

“Dad knew about Harrison?” I ask. “How? He only showed up yesterday.”

“It would seem so.”

“What do you want me to do?”

Mom lets out a long, low sigh, like she’s a deflating balloon. “I’ve spent all morning using every resource to research Harrison’s background. Everything checks out. He is who he says he is. He’s done what he says he’s done. I think you should go with Harrison. It’s your choice. But based on what your father said, coupled with what you showed me last night… I think you should accept his assistance.”

I lean my elbows on my knees, cradle my face in my hands. Dad knew about this? He thought I was in danger? Mom thought Dad was crazy. Was he?

Am I?

I can’t deal with everything at once, so I focus on this moment. The next step. Algebra, or Indiana Jones?

What would you choose?

Me too. I sit up and nod. “Okay. I’ll go with Harrison.”

Can you guess which song from the 1980's inspired this story? Share in the comments!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Renae Brumbaugh Green lives in Texas with her handsome, country-boy husband, four nearly-perfect, nearly-grown children, and far too many animals. She writes books you’ve never heard of and articles you’ve never read, though she’s won awards for both. In her free time, she leaps tall buildings and rescues kittens from trees. Or she might try to do those things, if she had free time.

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