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Saturday, February 15, 2020

Serial Saturday: "Priscilla Sum" Part 7



Part 7


On Monday, I headed into Natural Sciences with my nerves amped up to 110% of their normal levels. I smiled when I saw Tony's face by the door, but when I got closer, it became obvious that he wasn't feeling so good.

He tried to shake off the pained grimace and smile for me when he caught me staring with concern all over my face.

"Hey, Pris," he grunted, reaching to hug me. "How's it hanging? You ready for this?"

I hesitated, with my head resting on his shoulder, until I could feel his heartbeat. At least he still had that.

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be," I replied. "What about you? How are you feeling?"

I looked up into his face, which held way more lines than it should have. "Me? Oh, I'm fine," he kept his tone upbeat, though it rang hollow. "Just... Last night I had trouble sleeping. It's probably nerves."

Yeah, or the disease that's slowly poisoning your blood, I thought, but, being a good friend, I accepted his answer and walked into class alongside my friend.

I slid into my seat in Mr. Gorden's classroom with my eyes locked on the stack of papers beside him. He went through the day's lesson in his methodical way, but I barely heard him. I did make sure to jot down the disjointed phrases that fell on my ears, but for the most part, I was entirely tuned into the prospect of the quiz coming at some point during this time block.

"... That concludes today's lesson," Mr. Gorden calmly closed his textbook. "Those of you who are not staying for the quiz from FRED may disperse to your classes. For those who choose to remain, please wait for a moment while we get everything set up."

I fiddled with my locket as a team of proctors filed into the classroom and headed straight for the pile of papers.

"These are representatives from FRED," Mr. Gorden announced. "They'll be proctoring the quiz and if you have any questions--provided they are nothing pertinent or specific to the actual test material--you can ask them at any point outside of the actual examination period."

I waited with my pencil in hand while a severe-looking woman with straight red hair and elongated features laid a packet on the table in front of me. "FRED Archaeological Competency Evaluation Quiz", it said across the front, with the acronym "FACE-Q" below it.

The proctor at the front held up an extra copy of the quiz. "You may now turn to page one," he said, "and fill in your personal contact information."

The whole exam went that way. The proctor gave directions in that methodical, steady voice, and the others just stood at the side of the room, staring at each of us, from the front of the room to the back. They had their rotations timed so that at any given moment, every one of us felt that at least somebody was watching us. I guess the pressure was thick enough to deter any cheaters--but that didn't stop a couple people from attempting to cheat, based on the way one of the extra proctors would approach one student, remove their test, and escort them from the room, all without saying a word.

I caught the eye of the girl sitting next to me and snorted. What exactly did they have to prove, trying to cheat on a competency exam to go stay in the middle of nowhere for a week? It wasn't like this was a luxury destination!

Somebody moaned, and my eyes wandered toward the sound. I saw Tony sitting two tables in front of me. He was leaning heavily on his arm and rubbing his face. Concern nearly pulled my focus away, but I wrenched my concentration back to the questions. Just a few more to answer and then I had the rest of the time to work on my essay.

Tony groaned again, and the noise carried through the mostly-quiet auditorium. I felt the nervousness tugging at my own insides, but I took a deep breath.

Everything's fine, Pris, I told myself. I can worry about this later. He'll be fine.

I started on my essay as the first few people began walking forward with their completed exams. I jotted down my outline, sorting my thoughts along the framework, just like I'd practiced. The words flowed from my pencil, and I got to the last paragraph just fine. When I stood up with my test packet, I saw Tony staggering up the aisle just ahead of me. His legs wobbled under him, but he managed to stay upright.

I placed my exam on the table at the front of the room and looked toward the door just in time to see Tony crumple into a heap in the hallway.

Somebody screamed, and people started yelling. By the time I reached him, somebody had already rolled him over and was working on trying to revive him, while someone else alerted campus security and called for an ambulance.

"Tony!" the security officer shouted, but my friend didn't respond. I watched in frozen horror as the paramedics arrived with sirens blaring, and loaded Tony onto a gurney with an oxygen mask strapped to his face. They wheeled him out to the waiting vehicle, shouting assessments to each other all the way.

About three minutes after they pulled away, it was over. Staff began directing us to our classes, assuring everyone within earshot that it was all taken care of.

I went through my next three classes in a fog. By lunchtime, I had recovered some of my wits--which was good, because on my way out of Kent, I saw Mr. Gorden heading toward me with a letter in his hand.

"Miss Thiele!" he cried. "I'm glad I've caught you. I have something." He handed me the letter.

I saw the return address, labeled with only the Fortune Research and Educational Development logo, and the city--Athens, New York. No street address, nothing. But there was my full name, Priscilla DelVento-Thiele, and my address.

"What--" I looked up at the professor with a frown. "What does this mean?"

He grinned at me. "I think you know what it means," he said cryptically.

My mind spun. "But sir--what about Tony?"

He patted my shoulder. "They've taken him to Advocate Health. He'll be fine, I'm sure. Don't you worry! I won't keep you any longer. See you in class tomorrow, Priscilla." He kept walking down the pathway.

I stuffed the letter into my bag and headed for the path toward the park. Don't worry, he said? I couldn't help but worry! Tony just told me a few days ago that he was almost certainly dying, and now he just passes out in the middle of school--and I was supposed to believe he would be fine?
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This time, when I walked into the front door, I turned and walked toward my mothers display room. That amulet still sat on the shelf, drawing me in with its lifeless, unblinking stare. I looked into that orange ball, and all I could think of was Tony, laid out on a hospital bed... dying...

I shook off the depressing thoughts and forced myself to walk around the room, look at something else--anything else!

My eye fell on a particular grouping. I could swear I'd seen some of them on display before. On a whim, I dug out one of the other Ancient Artifacts textbooks, comparing the labels on my mom's wall with the captions on the photos. Again, as with the eyeball amulet, the difference between the two were often centuries apart, and on completely different continents.

I slammed the book shut and stomped into the kitchen. Of course, there was a note from my mom saying that Dad would be working till late tonight and she would be back by dinnertime. For lunch, I could just fix myself a sandwich from the refrigerator. I made a sandwich, all right--but I ate it in anxious bursts, swapping between taking huge bites and just picking at the sandwich. There was just too much going on in my life that didn't make sense, and yet I didn't feel like there was any place I could go to get any answers!

Heading back to campus for math class, I could pretend for a moment that everything was fine. People were still walking in small groups, laughing and chatting with one another. I walked into Math class, though, and I could almost taste the tension in there.

I caught a few girls muttering amongst each other with mournful expressions.

"--a few weeks left," one of them was saying.

I stopped behind them, and a few of them looked up, and then right back down again.

"A few weeks till what?" I asked.

Chelsea, at the very edge of the group, sat up straighter. "Have you heard the latest about Tony?" she asked.

I quickly claimed the open seat next to her. "No--what happened?" Did he die already? My brain set my heart racing.

"At the hospital," one of the other girls said. "He--they said he took a turn for the worse, and the doctors haven't given him much longer to live."

Her words sucked all the air out of my lungs. I forgot how to breathe, and just sat there in suffocated silence. "But..." I stammered, "he's going to make it, right? I mean, he's been to the hospital lots of times--he'll be back in a few days, won't he?"

I felt Chelsea's hand slip into mine and give a squeeze. "Pris..." she whispered, and I could see the tears in her eyes. "We all knew it was going to happen someday."

"No!" I kept my voice hoarse so it wouldn't resonate too much. "You guys don't get it--you might have met him here at college or even high school... but I've known him since we were kids! He never--I never..." If I tried to say anything more, I'd start bawling right there in class, I just knew it! One of the other girls--Tony had been going out with her last year a bunch of times--was crying openly already. We passed each other tissues and got through the class. I managed to push all thoughts of Tony out of my head each time the teacher started talking, but every time I walked out into the hallway again, there he was, looking at me with those gaunt, hollow eyes, begging me to do something--but what could I do?

Mom met me in the front hall. I wanted to brush past her without saying anything, but she caught my arm, and pulled me into a hug. I felt it seep down through my skin like a warm breeze on a cold day.

"Mrs. Rosen called from the hospital," she whispered. "Pris, I'm so sorry."

The hospital. So it was true. He wasn't on the mend, and things were worse than everybody thought. I sobbed into Mom's shoulder. She stroked my hair and we stood there for a while.

Once I got my breath back, I told her, "I want to do something, but I don't know what it is! What can I do in this situation?"

Mom kept her arm around me and we walked into the dining room, where Zella had a pot roast and vegetables on the table for us.

"You can focus your thoughts on the outcome you most desire, Pris," she said. "Wish for him good healing, and comfort for Tony and his family. I know how much he means to you. It hurts to see the ones we care about, dying." She rubbed my hand as we started eating. "I'm sure his family would appreciate you stopping by to see him, too."

I nodded, rubbing away the remains of the tears and catching my breath. Thinking of Tony reminded me of Mr. Gorden--and the letter.

"Oh," I mused, turning to my book bag to dig it out. "The other day, Mr. Gorden gave me this." I showed the envelope to Mom.

She frowned a little at the return address label. "Fortune Research and Educational Development? I've never heard of such a place." She smiled and handed it back to me. "It sounds very elite. What does it say?"

I flipped the envelope around and broke the seal. "I don't know--Mr. Gorden seemed to think it had something to do with the exam I took this morning."

Mom dabbed at the corner of her mouth. "That's right, you did mention that the other day at dinner."

I unfolded the letter.

"Priscilla DelVento-Thiele: Congratulations! You have been accepted..."
Mom congratulated me as befitted such news, and we went our separate ways after the meal, but I wandered up to my room with the letter in my hand.

Accepted? How had they known? It had only been a matter of hours after I took the test--was their grading procedure as efficient as their test security procedure?

Thinking about the trip made me think about Tony again, so I set the letter aside and pulled out my laptop to try and research the amulet.

I found a few pictures in articles talking about other things, and one article that actually gave more information about the "group healing ceremony" and rituals that went along with it. The triple deity, for example, bore the names Vlavi, Nashtam, and Egamad. Were they three names for three separate entities? Or did all three names apply to different aspects of the same being?

I climbed into bed, with the information about the amulet and my mother's advice running through my head.

"Well, Vlavi, Nashtam, Egamad," I mumbled under my breath, "whatever you are, whoever you are... I wish you were real, so you could heal my friend!"

All I heard in the silence was the wind pressing against the windows. I rolled over and fell asleep to the sound of creaking trees.

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