things we carry - one
title: expect nothing
series: things we carry
pairing: jason todd/dick grayson
rated: t (for too legit to quit)
note: i'm seriously rusty
i.
Jason knelt in the emptying hallway shoving another loose sheet of paper back into a text book. Most of the hallway cleared at the toll of the bell and the academy had real church bells to count the hours. They were one in a long list of things Jason never thought he’d get used too, right up there with sleeping through the night, wearing a tie to class, and cafeteria food that tasted good. The annoying shadow following him since his first day was another.
“They’re not worth it.”
Jason stowed his tablet back in its case making sure to zip it this time before he stood, eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
Hands on hips, blond ponytail bouncing, Stephanie Brown glared right back. “They're not worth fighting so whatever you’re thinking about doing back, don’t,” she said.
“You think I don’t know that?”
Glaring down at Steph never help but he tried anyway. Despite Jason being two years older and meaner, they were roughly the same height. It made the entire situation that much more embarrassing because they’re classmates, and somehow that meant they were friends, at least in Steph’s eyes. Nothing he said seemed to say mattered.
“Knowing something doesn’t always stop people from acting on hurt pride.” Steph recited the words like she’d heard them over and over again. “You got that same look on your face when you popped Lucas Holt in the face.”
“You mean when I knocked Lucas Holt’s lights out?” Jason tried to smother the pride in his voice. Really.
“Whatever,” said Steph and handed him a slim book he’d missed. “They’re pushing you because everyone knows you’re here on scholarship. If you keep getting in trouble, the Academy could take it away.”
“I’m not here on scholarship,” Jason muttered. “I’m here on merit.” Bruce told him as much, looking surprised and stern when Jason told him he didn’t need handouts. Jason shoved past her and started walking to their next class. He didn’t need some sheltered eleven year old girl lecturing him on why these rich pricks tried to bully him.
Growing up on Gotham streets taught Jason more than anyone needed to know about human nature. To everyone at this preparatory school of rich freaks, Jason was weak. Scrawny, shorter than half his age group, and shoved in the equivalent of sixth grade classes to make up for the fact that his father was a fuck up and his mother drowning in misery and couldn’t do much for him, Jason looked like the perfect target. Adding that list to the fact that Jason was being personally sponsored by Bruce Wayne instead of the Wayne Foundation meant Jason was also a charity case, an oddity, a thing that didn’t fit into the neatly laundered lines of the other kids. They wanted to put him in his place, like most rich people did with their charity, wanted remind you of where you actually belong-on the other side of their money, beholden to them. And they would do whatever it took to break him.
Jason wasn’t weak and he never wanted handouts. He wasn’t here because of some whim of a billionaire playboy. He carried something inside of him that no one else had. Bruce called it potential and it measured off weird charts Jason had never heard of before. That potential earned Jason the right to attend the Maxwell-Huerr Academy of the Occult Arts. He didn’t have to prove anything to anyone, but Jason would definitely show them.
ii.
A hush fell when Jason swept through the classroom door reminding him that his hallway problems were completely reversed when he stepped into class. Jason had swiftly established a reputation on his second day of school when he had laid Preston Halloway out with one punch right outside this door. The blood that ran down his knuckles told everyone that Jason Todd was dangerous. His curt and quiet nature everyone took for rudeness. Besides Steph, none of the younger kids seemed to know what to do with him.
Jason pushed through a wad of kids crowding around the teacher’s platform to get to his desk. He wanted to laugh when they scrambled away, but he couldn’t. Most days he didn’t know what to make of himself either.
The tables were tall and long, kind of like science labs at Jason’s old school, except the tops were all chunks of slate and the only equipment they ever needed was a first edition primer on drawing circles 101, and piece of chalk. When given a choice, Jason always liked sitting in the middle of the class. Tucking behind a tall kid or a chubby one was the best way to go unnoticed. But Jason arrived at the academy three weeks into the winter session and was stuck at the front of the room. Jason tucked his bag beneath the desk and slumped atop the waiting stool. More than pre-algebra, more than Latin, more than composition, more than almost anything at this school, Jason hated his summoning class.
Steph came through the door like a whirlwind dragging another oddity that roamed the halls behind her. At age nine, Tim Drake’s aptitude tests made the staff scramble all over themselves to push him through the courses. On top of that, he could already speak two languages and decline nouns like only dead emperors should. Somehow he was given a pass even though he was scrawnier than Jason, quieter than Jason, and sometimes even moodier. No one seemed afraid of him even though he stared at everyone with intensely creepy eyes. He was also Jason’s summons partner. It was a real pain.
Steph tossed her hair in Jason’s direction then spun away, nose in the air.
“Steph told me to tell you that you left this,” said Tim. He set a metal on the table. It was small, dented, and still had flecks of an old cough drop logo on the top.
Jason flicked the edge and the top popped open revealing his chalk. “Yeah? Tell her that I didn’t say thanks.”
Tim just stared at him with those creepy eyes like he was wondering what to say next. To be honest, Jason didn’t know what to say either. Jason had met smarter, Jason had met the best, but even he had to admit there was something impressive about the little squirt. Didn’t mean he wanted to be friends though. They were both saved from conversation by the door closing with a smart bang.
“What did the egg say to the frying pan?” The class turned to see Mr. Nelson walk through the door. Tall with a perpetual cloud of white handprints along his elbows and streaks in his hair, Mr. Nelson opened each afternoon with a joke from the wrapper of Laffy Taffy he pulled from a pocket. It was so lame but the entire class lapped it up. “You crack me up!”
The other kids giggled and hooted while the church bells tolled outside the window.
Jason really hated this class.
After roll, the droning sound of announcements, and the flutter of homework passing forward, class actually began.
“Last time we worked on building a third ring to our summoning circles. Does anyone remember what it’s called?” Mr. Nelson asked as if it had been a week since their last class instead of twelve hours. Tim’s hand shot up, and Jason fought to keep the grimace off his face. “Tim.”
“The ordinate plane,” said Tim. “It’s to create a boundary for the summons.”
“That’s right, Tim. And hmm,” Mr. Nelson pretended to search the classroom for another student to call, but Jason knew. Whenever Tim answered something, he was always, always next. “Jason. Can you tell me what plane we bound our summons to?”
Jason leaned back on his stool and considered rolling the legs from three to two to see if he could still keep his balance. Once he determined that he could balance easily while making it clear Jason was on his own time, not the classes, he drawled, “yeah.”
Mr. Nelson didn’t look anything but patient. “Go ahead then,” he said and gave him that expectant teacher look, like he’s humoring Jason until someone else needed to be called.
Jason didn’t want to. The words were on the tip of his tongue along with the request to harass someone else. But he had promised to try. He dropped forward with a clatter.
“We built the ordinate planes around the first order of the physical world which are the elements,” said Jason. “You said the first order is best for beginners because there’s a lot of elements just flying around in the air. We got to practice sustaining elements inside of the summons circle last time but it was a lot freaking harder than you made it sound-”
“That’s very good, Jason,” Mr. Nelson said, cutting him off with a smile. Jason had gathered a muffled giggles of his own. “An excellent summation of yesterday’s lesson; understanding that elements are plentiful in the first order but it takes concentration and will to collect and sustain them inside a magic circle. Today, we’re going to take the next step and pull an element inside of the summoning circle.” He began the day’s lesson but Jason couldn’t help but tune him after hearing the assignment.
He curled forward to protect against the cold feeling settling in his gut. They were going to stand in front of the class and pull and element into the summoning circle carefully built on Mr. Nelson’s slate desk same as the other day. Jason couldn’t keep an ounce of water floating in his circle for only seconds at a time. How was he supposed to make some appear out of thin air?
“When you get up here, make sure you keep your feet inside of the grounding circle I have here,” said Mr. Nelson. “Rule number one is to be as safe as you can. Rule number to is don’t-”
“Don’t mess up the lines!” the class chorused, minus Jason of course.
For the next hour, each student climbed onto the platform, screwed their eyes shut and concentrated pulling elements from the void. Most everyone took a couple minutes, with Tim Drake being the exception. He’d only stood up there for two seconds before a bright circle of fire pealed itself into existence like a flaming banana. Steph struggled ten minutes before coaxing a puff of air that fluttered her long bangs. Other students summoned less than that, a smudge of chalky dirt, a wisp of smoke, three small drops of water from the hazy nothingness inside the circle.
Finally, it was Jason’s turn Mr. Nelson checked the circles and then called him to the front of the room. He felt every eye on him as he climbed onto the podium. The whole exercise was really easy, he reminded himself. He just had to take a deep breath, relax, concentrate on a place inside his mind that was calm and dark, find an element just beyond the boundary that separated his mind from the next and coax it in his world. Easy. When he’s calm and he’s collected, there was nothing he couldn’t do. He wiped sweaty palms against his jeans and tried to focus his attention inward. After several long breathes, he hears a loud titter, and a fierce shush.
Jason’s eyes fluttered open. Half the class faced backwards, nervous laughter caught somewhere in their nose and their chests. They’re looking at the clock. It’s been over fifteen minutes.
“Class, respect Jason by giving him your full attention, like I’m sure he did you,” said Mr. Nelson.
He had their full attention now. He could see every eye on him, curious to see what he would do now waiting for Jason to fail. Most of them at least. Steph wrinkled her nose at him and sent a thumbs up and Tim nodded like he wasn’t sure what to do but nodding happened to be a normal way to show support. Jesus, he had kids trying to cheer him up. The thought tugged at his chest a little, twisting up in that weird place he didn’t like to peer into. A lot of things hung around there like his mom’s death, his rescue by the Dark Knight, and his promise to Bruce to just try.
Didn’t look like he was even trying now, did it?
Mr. Nelson gave him a bright smile “You’re doing fine, Jason. Give it another go.”
“Yeah. Okay.” Instead of focusing on calm like the meditation lessons demanded, Jason focused on his embarrassment and frustration, the low hum of desperation to not have to suffer through another afternoon of kids whispering, trying to figure out why he was even here. Funny enough, he was able to center on that feeling and fell quickly into his mind’s eye and into the void as he’d been taught.
All the books and all the teachers described the void as an endless expanse that both separated and connected the supernatural worlds from reality. The mind’s eye might interpret the void into familiar sights or memories in because the human brain looked for order, but generally, it should resemble black emptiness. To Jason the void just looked like a flat, black parking lot with the white lines covered in goopy tar. In the distance, he could see an edge to the nothingness, a thin shimmer against the dark that had to be the boundary where the elements lurked.
Jason imagined himself moving to that dark expanse and then he was standing next to the thin line between his reality and the next. The boundary felt soft underneath his palm, cool and supple. He sensed something just beyond the border, something bright and essential, maybe fire. He concentrated, eyes narrowed, and pulled at the feeling, but he couldn’t bring it over. Jason tried again and again but nothing seemed to work.
Come on, Come on! He shouted, balled up his fist and pounded on the boundary.
The nothing shuddered and flexed like a steel saw. He hit the wall again and watched it tilt and roil up and down, up and down. In between the flex and roll, Jason could just see the glittering balls of light that Mr. Nelson pulled into their summoning circles yesterday. He laughed, suddenly excited, hope laying across his anger like a soothing balm. He was almost there. This time Jason gave the boundary a respectful knock knock, then stuttered backwards as suddenly, the space around him fanned out to reveal a single eye.
Whoa, whispered Jason into the dark. He’d never read about something like this. Did he just discover something new? His laughter bounced all over the void wild with triumph.
The eye was wide as he was tall and reflected his open-mouthed surprise in the black fire of the pupil and the deep blue of the iris. It rolled a little to the left, the right, studying him. Jason felt nervous tension tickling at the back of his throat, doubt, but he promised not to give into it. He promised that he would try.
He faced the eye with stubborn determination, hand raised in a gesture of “I come in peace.” You’re not what I was expecting but you’re kind of awesome. Could you come back with me?
The eye simply stared at him.
Jason waited for something, maybe an answer, maybe acknowledgement. Every slow second raised the hair along Jason’s arms and the back of his neck. He felt the attention swelling around him, drawing in and in, and stealing the breath from his lungs. A flare of hot wind swirled about him, whipping his hair around, tugging his tie out into the air. His heart began to pound and the sound echoed around him. He started to move forward, one foot in front of the other, but Jason. Jason couldn’t make himself stop.
Stop, he yanked shoulders back, tried to brace against the pull, but his feet continued to slide forward. Stop.
Suddenly, Jason felt his body falling, falling into the darkness, as he cried out, and the single eye became two, a hungry mouth opened saying, ah, there you are, and Jason-
“Jason!”
His eyes snapped open to find the class on their feet. Mr. Nelson gripped his shoulder, lips pulled tight.
Jason struggled to breathe, in and out, in and out, while forcing calm into his heart. He glanced around the room trying to focus on something other than his pounding heart. The clock said twenty-three minutes had passed. The circle around his feet looked different, like chipped paint instead of Mr. Nelson’s smooth strokes.
“Damn it,” he coughed, the taste of rain on asphalt thick in his throat.
“Are you okay, Jason?” Steph’s voice cut through the silence.
“Yeah. ’m fine, Mr. Nelson.” Jason shrugged the hand from his shoulder. “You got a loud mouth, Brown,” he added.
Steph’s wide eyed look of fright blinked back to normal. Her cheeks filled with color. “Whatever!”
The rest of the kids in the class snickered and whispered. His teacher stared at the desk in front of him. There was nothing there, nothing at all that proved Jason found the elements let alone seen a…a something in the void. Mr. Nelson steadied Jason when he stepped down before turning to face the other students.
“Well that was certainly exciting. Class, consider this a demonstration of power over finesse.” said Mr. Nelson. “Jason.”
Jason turned to look at his teacher.
“You may not have been able to pull an element, but you certainly understand the technique. If you wouldn’t mind coming to class a little early tomorrow, we can talk about what went wrong. Tim, Jason, if you would please clear the board for the next class. I’ll take care of the summoning circles on your desk. Class, once you receive your graded papers, you can leave.”
Jason frowned but headed to the blackboard hanging next to the classroom door. He started to erase the simple circles and instructions. His legs felt strong but his chest and ribs ached like he had been squeezed, so he moved slowly and tried to ignore twinge when he lifted his arms.
“What did you do?”
Jason looked down at his elbow to find Tim staring at him. His usually serious expression turned up into faint curiosity. “Huh?”
Tim set both of their backpacks on the ground between them. “I want to know what you did in the void.”
“You saw as well as everyone else. I didn’t do nothing,” Jason said, bitterly.
Tim picked up the other eraser. “You did do something,” he insisted. “You were standing there the first time, but after you tried again, Mr. Nelson’s grounding circle lit up. It got really bright in here. And then your circle on our desk scattered like dust.”
Jason snorted. “Chalk is dust,” he said, glancing over at their desk though. It was a mess of powder spraying in all directions. He’d never heard of summoning circles exploding like that before, hadn’t read about it in their primers either. “You’ve got a freaky brain. What do you think happened?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you.” Tim frowned at the board like he was genuinely upset that he couldn’t figure it out.
“Jason, Tim,” Mr. Nelson rushed to them with papers in hand. “Good work. You may also leave now.”
On their way out the classroom, three teachers turned down the hall. The buttons on their bright academy blazers winked with each purposeful step. It occurred to Jason, when they stopped at Mr. Nelson’s door and frowned that maybe he did something after all.
“Tomorrow before class, Jason. Don’t be late.” Mr. Nelson smiled warmly. “Excuse us.”
The door shut behind him with a solid click.
series: things we carry
pairing: jason todd/dick grayson
rated: t (for too legit to quit)
note: i'm seriously rusty
i.
Jason knelt in the emptying hallway shoving another loose sheet of paper back into a text book. Most of the hallway cleared at the toll of the bell and the academy had real church bells to count the hours. They were one in a long list of things Jason never thought he’d get used too, right up there with sleeping through the night, wearing a tie to class, and cafeteria food that tasted good. The annoying shadow following him since his first day was another.
“They’re not worth it.”
Jason stowed his tablet back in its case making sure to zip it this time before he stood, eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
Hands on hips, blond ponytail bouncing, Stephanie Brown glared right back. “They're not worth fighting so whatever you’re thinking about doing back, don’t,” she said.
“You think I don’t know that?”
Glaring down at Steph never help but he tried anyway. Despite Jason being two years older and meaner, they were roughly the same height. It made the entire situation that much more embarrassing because they’re classmates, and somehow that meant they were friends, at least in Steph’s eyes. Nothing he said seemed to say mattered.
“Knowing something doesn’t always stop people from acting on hurt pride.” Steph recited the words like she’d heard them over and over again. “You got that same look on your face when you popped Lucas Holt in the face.”
“You mean when I knocked Lucas Holt’s lights out?” Jason tried to smother the pride in his voice. Really.
“Whatever,” said Steph and handed him a slim book he’d missed. “They’re pushing you because everyone knows you’re here on scholarship. If you keep getting in trouble, the Academy could take it away.”
“I’m not here on scholarship,” Jason muttered. “I’m here on merit.” Bruce told him as much, looking surprised and stern when Jason told him he didn’t need handouts. Jason shoved past her and started walking to their next class. He didn’t need some sheltered eleven year old girl lecturing him on why these rich pricks tried to bully him.
Growing up on Gotham streets taught Jason more than anyone needed to know about human nature. To everyone at this preparatory school of rich freaks, Jason was weak. Scrawny, shorter than half his age group, and shoved in the equivalent of sixth grade classes to make up for the fact that his father was a fuck up and his mother drowning in misery and couldn’t do much for him, Jason looked like the perfect target. Adding that list to the fact that Jason was being personally sponsored by Bruce Wayne instead of the Wayne Foundation meant Jason was also a charity case, an oddity, a thing that didn’t fit into the neatly laundered lines of the other kids. They wanted to put him in his place, like most rich people did with their charity, wanted remind you of where you actually belong-on the other side of their money, beholden to them. And they would do whatever it took to break him.
Jason wasn’t weak and he never wanted handouts. He wasn’t here because of some whim of a billionaire playboy. He carried something inside of him that no one else had. Bruce called it potential and it measured off weird charts Jason had never heard of before. That potential earned Jason the right to attend the Maxwell-Huerr Academy of the Occult Arts. He didn’t have to prove anything to anyone, but Jason would definitely show them.
ii.
A hush fell when Jason swept through the classroom door reminding him that his hallway problems were completely reversed when he stepped into class. Jason had swiftly established a reputation on his second day of school when he had laid Preston Halloway out with one punch right outside this door. The blood that ran down his knuckles told everyone that Jason Todd was dangerous. His curt and quiet nature everyone took for rudeness. Besides Steph, none of the younger kids seemed to know what to do with him.
Jason pushed through a wad of kids crowding around the teacher’s platform to get to his desk. He wanted to laugh when they scrambled away, but he couldn’t. Most days he didn’t know what to make of himself either.
The tables were tall and long, kind of like science labs at Jason’s old school, except the tops were all chunks of slate and the only equipment they ever needed was a first edition primer on drawing circles 101, and piece of chalk. When given a choice, Jason always liked sitting in the middle of the class. Tucking behind a tall kid or a chubby one was the best way to go unnoticed. But Jason arrived at the academy three weeks into the winter session and was stuck at the front of the room. Jason tucked his bag beneath the desk and slumped atop the waiting stool. More than pre-algebra, more than Latin, more than composition, more than almost anything at this school, Jason hated his summoning class.
Steph came through the door like a whirlwind dragging another oddity that roamed the halls behind her. At age nine, Tim Drake’s aptitude tests made the staff scramble all over themselves to push him through the courses. On top of that, he could already speak two languages and decline nouns like only dead emperors should. Somehow he was given a pass even though he was scrawnier than Jason, quieter than Jason, and sometimes even moodier. No one seemed afraid of him even though he stared at everyone with intensely creepy eyes. He was also Jason’s summons partner. It was a real pain.
Steph tossed her hair in Jason’s direction then spun away, nose in the air.
“Steph told me to tell you that you left this,” said Tim. He set a metal on the table. It was small, dented, and still had flecks of an old cough drop logo on the top.
Jason flicked the edge and the top popped open revealing his chalk. “Yeah? Tell her that I didn’t say thanks.”
Tim just stared at him with those creepy eyes like he was wondering what to say next. To be honest, Jason didn’t know what to say either. Jason had met smarter, Jason had met the best, but even he had to admit there was something impressive about the little squirt. Didn’t mean he wanted to be friends though. They were both saved from conversation by the door closing with a smart bang.
“What did the egg say to the frying pan?” The class turned to see Mr. Nelson walk through the door. Tall with a perpetual cloud of white handprints along his elbows and streaks in his hair, Mr. Nelson opened each afternoon with a joke from the wrapper of Laffy Taffy he pulled from a pocket. It was so lame but the entire class lapped it up. “You crack me up!”
The other kids giggled and hooted while the church bells tolled outside the window.
Jason really hated this class.
After roll, the droning sound of announcements, and the flutter of homework passing forward, class actually began.
“Last time we worked on building a third ring to our summoning circles. Does anyone remember what it’s called?” Mr. Nelson asked as if it had been a week since their last class instead of twelve hours. Tim’s hand shot up, and Jason fought to keep the grimace off his face. “Tim.”
“The ordinate plane,” said Tim. “It’s to create a boundary for the summons.”
“That’s right, Tim. And hmm,” Mr. Nelson pretended to search the classroom for another student to call, but Jason knew. Whenever Tim answered something, he was always, always next. “Jason. Can you tell me what plane we bound our summons to?”
Jason leaned back on his stool and considered rolling the legs from three to two to see if he could still keep his balance. Once he determined that he could balance easily while making it clear Jason was on his own time, not the classes, he drawled, “yeah.”
Mr. Nelson didn’t look anything but patient. “Go ahead then,” he said and gave him that expectant teacher look, like he’s humoring Jason until someone else needed to be called.
Jason didn’t want to. The words were on the tip of his tongue along with the request to harass someone else. But he had promised to try. He dropped forward with a clatter.
“We built the ordinate planes around the first order of the physical world which are the elements,” said Jason. “You said the first order is best for beginners because there’s a lot of elements just flying around in the air. We got to practice sustaining elements inside of the summons circle last time but it was a lot freaking harder than you made it sound-”
“That’s very good, Jason,” Mr. Nelson said, cutting him off with a smile. Jason had gathered a muffled giggles of his own. “An excellent summation of yesterday’s lesson; understanding that elements are plentiful in the first order but it takes concentration and will to collect and sustain them inside a magic circle. Today, we’re going to take the next step and pull an element inside of the summoning circle.” He began the day’s lesson but Jason couldn’t help but tune him after hearing the assignment.
He curled forward to protect against the cold feeling settling in his gut. They were going to stand in front of the class and pull and element into the summoning circle carefully built on Mr. Nelson’s slate desk same as the other day. Jason couldn’t keep an ounce of water floating in his circle for only seconds at a time. How was he supposed to make some appear out of thin air?
“When you get up here, make sure you keep your feet inside of the grounding circle I have here,” said Mr. Nelson. “Rule number one is to be as safe as you can. Rule number to is don’t-”
“Don’t mess up the lines!” the class chorused, minus Jason of course.
For the next hour, each student climbed onto the platform, screwed their eyes shut and concentrated pulling elements from the void. Most everyone took a couple minutes, with Tim Drake being the exception. He’d only stood up there for two seconds before a bright circle of fire pealed itself into existence like a flaming banana. Steph struggled ten minutes before coaxing a puff of air that fluttered her long bangs. Other students summoned less than that, a smudge of chalky dirt, a wisp of smoke, three small drops of water from the hazy nothingness inside the circle.
Finally, it was Jason’s turn Mr. Nelson checked the circles and then called him to the front of the room. He felt every eye on him as he climbed onto the podium. The whole exercise was really easy, he reminded himself. He just had to take a deep breath, relax, concentrate on a place inside his mind that was calm and dark, find an element just beyond the boundary that separated his mind from the next and coax it in his world. Easy. When he’s calm and he’s collected, there was nothing he couldn’t do. He wiped sweaty palms against his jeans and tried to focus his attention inward. After several long breathes, he hears a loud titter, and a fierce shush.
Jason’s eyes fluttered open. Half the class faced backwards, nervous laughter caught somewhere in their nose and their chests. They’re looking at the clock. It’s been over fifteen minutes.
“Class, respect Jason by giving him your full attention, like I’m sure he did you,” said Mr. Nelson.
He had their full attention now. He could see every eye on him, curious to see what he would do now waiting for Jason to fail. Most of them at least. Steph wrinkled her nose at him and sent a thumbs up and Tim nodded like he wasn’t sure what to do but nodding happened to be a normal way to show support. Jesus, he had kids trying to cheer him up. The thought tugged at his chest a little, twisting up in that weird place he didn’t like to peer into. A lot of things hung around there like his mom’s death, his rescue by the Dark Knight, and his promise to Bruce to just try.
Didn’t look like he was even trying now, did it?
Mr. Nelson gave him a bright smile “You’re doing fine, Jason. Give it another go.”
“Yeah. Okay.” Instead of focusing on calm like the meditation lessons demanded, Jason focused on his embarrassment and frustration, the low hum of desperation to not have to suffer through another afternoon of kids whispering, trying to figure out why he was even here. Funny enough, he was able to center on that feeling and fell quickly into his mind’s eye and into the void as he’d been taught.
All the books and all the teachers described the void as an endless expanse that both separated and connected the supernatural worlds from reality. The mind’s eye might interpret the void into familiar sights or memories in because the human brain looked for order, but generally, it should resemble black emptiness. To Jason the void just looked like a flat, black parking lot with the white lines covered in goopy tar. In the distance, he could see an edge to the nothingness, a thin shimmer against the dark that had to be the boundary where the elements lurked.
Jason imagined himself moving to that dark expanse and then he was standing next to the thin line between his reality and the next. The boundary felt soft underneath his palm, cool and supple. He sensed something just beyond the border, something bright and essential, maybe fire. He concentrated, eyes narrowed, and pulled at the feeling, but he couldn’t bring it over. Jason tried again and again but nothing seemed to work.
Come on, Come on! He shouted, balled up his fist and pounded on the boundary.
The nothing shuddered and flexed like a steel saw. He hit the wall again and watched it tilt and roil up and down, up and down. In between the flex and roll, Jason could just see the glittering balls of light that Mr. Nelson pulled into their summoning circles yesterday. He laughed, suddenly excited, hope laying across his anger like a soothing balm. He was almost there. This time Jason gave the boundary a respectful knock knock, then stuttered backwards as suddenly, the space around him fanned out to reveal a single eye.
Whoa, whispered Jason into the dark. He’d never read about something like this. Did he just discover something new? His laughter bounced all over the void wild with triumph.
The eye was wide as he was tall and reflected his open-mouthed surprise in the black fire of the pupil and the deep blue of the iris. It rolled a little to the left, the right, studying him. Jason felt nervous tension tickling at the back of his throat, doubt, but he promised not to give into it. He promised that he would try.
He faced the eye with stubborn determination, hand raised in a gesture of “I come in peace.” You’re not what I was expecting but you’re kind of awesome. Could you come back with me?
The eye simply stared at him.
Jason waited for something, maybe an answer, maybe acknowledgement. Every slow second raised the hair along Jason’s arms and the back of his neck. He felt the attention swelling around him, drawing in and in, and stealing the breath from his lungs. A flare of hot wind swirled about him, whipping his hair around, tugging his tie out into the air. His heart began to pound and the sound echoed around him. He started to move forward, one foot in front of the other, but Jason. Jason couldn’t make himself stop.
Stop, he yanked shoulders back, tried to brace against the pull, but his feet continued to slide forward. Stop.
Suddenly, Jason felt his body falling, falling into the darkness, as he cried out, and the single eye became two, a hungry mouth opened saying, ah, there you are, and Jason-
“Jason!”
His eyes snapped open to find the class on their feet. Mr. Nelson gripped his shoulder, lips pulled tight.
Jason struggled to breathe, in and out, in and out, while forcing calm into his heart. He glanced around the room trying to focus on something other than his pounding heart. The clock said twenty-three minutes had passed. The circle around his feet looked different, like chipped paint instead of Mr. Nelson’s smooth strokes.
“Damn it,” he coughed, the taste of rain on asphalt thick in his throat.
“Are you okay, Jason?” Steph’s voice cut through the silence.
“Yeah. ’m fine, Mr. Nelson.” Jason shrugged the hand from his shoulder. “You got a loud mouth, Brown,” he added.
Steph’s wide eyed look of fright blinked back to normal. Her cheeks filled with color. “Whatever!”
The rest of the kids in the class snickered and whispered. His teacher stared at the desk in front of him. There was nothing there, nothing at all that proved Jason found the elements let alone seen a…a something in the void. Mr. Nelson steadied Jason when he stepped down before turning to face the other students.
“Well that was certainly exciting. Class, consider this a demonstration of power over finesse.” said Mr. Nelson. “Jason.”
Jason turned to look at his teacher.
“You may not have been able to pull an element, but you certainly understand the technique. If you wouldn’t mind coming to class a little early tomorrow, we can talk about what went wrong. Tim, Jason, if you would please clear the board for the next class. I’ll take care of the summoning circles on your desk. Class, once you receive your graded papers, you can leave.”
Jason frowned but headed to the blackboard hanging next to the classroom door. He started to erase the simple circles and instructions. His legs felt strong but his chest and ribs ached like he had been squeezed, so he moved slowly and tried to ignore twinge when he lifted his arms.
“What did you do?”
Jason looked down at his elbow to find Tim staring at him. His usually serious expression turned up into faint curiosity. “Huh?”
Tim set both of their backpacks on the ground between them. “I want to know what you did in the void.”
“You saw as well as everyone else. I didn’t do nothing,” Jason said, bitterly.
Tim picked up the other eraser. “You did do something,” he insisted. “You were standing there the first time, but after you tried again, Mr. Nelson’s grounding circle lit up. It got really bright in here. And then your circle on our desk scattered like dust.”
Jason snorted. “Chalk is dust,” he said, glancing over at their desk though. It was a mess of powder spraying in all directions. He’d never heard of summoning circles exploding like that before, hadn’t read about it in their primers either. “You’ve got a freaky brain. What do you think happened?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you.” Tim frowned at the board like he was genuinely upset that he couldn’t figure it out.
“Jason, Tim,” Mr. Nelson rushed to them with papers in hand. “Good work. You may also leave now.”
On their way out the classroom, three teachers turned down the hall. The buttons on their bright academy blazers winked with each purposeful step. It occurred to Jason, when they stopped at Mr. Nelson’s door and frowned that maybe he did something after all.
“Tomorrow before class, Jason. Don’t be late.” Mr. Nelson smiled warmly. “Excuse us.”
The door shut behind him with a solid click.