Xavier's Quest (working title) Revised - Part 1

Chapter 1

Lily Blossom

“Oh come on!” shouted Xavier. “I finished my paper! Can you please turn the Internet back on for five minutes?”

His father, Trenton, set down his crossword puzzle and stared back at Xavier. “No, Xavier. Nine at night is time to go to bed, not time to chat with your friends on the Internet with bad grammar and spelling.”

Xavier opened his mouth to say something else, but then decided it was futile. His father never budged on his decisions.

“All right,” he said. “Night Mom, night Dad.” He turned toward the dog lying in front of the television. “Good night, Pebble.”

After running up the carpeted stairs, he performed his before-bed ablutions, slumped down on his bed, and rolled up in the blankets, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars and planets on his ceiling. He lay awake for a long time, listening to his clock tick, the muffled sounds of conversation from downstairs, and a dog barking somewhere outside. From somewhere far away, he heard the blare of a police car. Such sounds soon dissolved into a monotonous hum as he fell asleep.

●●●

He saw a girl, about twelve years old, his own age, staring straight at him with eyes like an overcast sky. The rest of the world was a light gray, as if they stood in an empty room infinitely large. She twirled in place once like a dancer, and vanished in a puff of smoke. All that remained of her was a tiny white lily blossom resting on the ground.

A shadow fell over the world, and a sword entered his field of vision. Xavier watched as it hovered in the air above the flower for a moment, as if held by a ghost, and then stabbed downward, skewering the lily blossom.

“Xavier!” shouted a voice. It was a child’s voice. A girl’s voice.

“Lily!” he called back. He reached out toward the lily blossom, trying desperately to pull it from the sword. His feet seemed to be held fast by invisible bonds. The sword rotated and hung there point up, a red liquid running down the blade. Xavier struggled, but still could not move his legs even an inch. Something struck the back of his head, and he fell forward.

●●●

With a gasp, he awoke. He felt as if he were drowning in sweat. His alarm clock read three thirty in the morning.

Just a dream, he thought. Just a very, very disturbing dream.

His hand fumbled around on his nightstand until he found his flashlight, which he kept there in case he needed to get up at night. He switched it on and made his way across the room. Before he opened the door to the hallway, he turned the flashlight off and set it on the ground so as not to disturb his parents.

Silent as an owl swooping upon its prey, he made his way through the hall and toward the stairs to the living room. He stood in the darkness for a long minute, waiting for his eyes to adjust, listening hard, and tensing at every sound. Fresh sweat began to roll down his face and palms. Xavier walked down the stairs and entered the living room. The cream-colored carpet felt cool against Xavier’s feet.

He heard a rustle, and in the light from the street shining in through the window, saw Pebble staring at him from his bed.

“Hey, Peb,” he said, sitting down next to him. Pebble licked his hand.

“Good boy,” said Xavier, stroking Pebble’s neck. He remained there in the cool room for a long time, thinking about the dream. He’d never seen the girl before, unless it had just been a glimpse at a store or a restaurant. Even if he had seen her, he wouldn’t have been one to go and introduce himself.

He looked out the window and saw a car go by, followed by what looked like a squirrel or raccoon on the opposite sidewalk. After a while, he turned toward the digital clock on top of the television. Four-thirty. Xavier yawned, and decided to go back to bed. He made his way back to his room and fell asleep.

At six-forty, his alarm clock sounded. His arm seemed twice its normal weight as he reached over and pressed the button to silence it. With drooping eyes and dragging feet, he got out of bed and dressed in a new pair of jeans and a dark red T-shirt. He walked out of his bedroom and down the stairs to the kitchen. His mother was eating a bowl of oatmeal, and he heard the sounds of the morning news coming from the living room.

“Were you up last night?” asked his mother. “I thought I heard you walking around, and you look tired.”

“Yeah,” said Xavier. “Bad dream.”

“Do you want to talk about it? I didn’t get my psychiatrist license for nothing.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“I said I’m fine!” snapped Xavier.

“All right,” she said, looking back at her oatmeal. “It appears someone got up on the wrong side of the bed. Have you any idea who that someone is?”

Xavier scowled at her.

“Eat, Xavier. Scowling at me does not provide you with essential vitamins and minerals. Cereal does.”

It took Xavier nearly twice as long as it normally did to make and eat his breakfast, go back upstairs to brush his teeth and comb his coal-black hair out of the tangled mat it had assumed during the night. He went back downstairs, grabbed his backpack from the hall closet, and was about to put on his jacket and go out to wait for the bus, when his mother approached and crossed her arms.

“You know,” she said, “I think it is time to get you a new backpack. You’ve had that old thing for five years and used it for just about everything. We’d just have to take all that junk out first.”

“Aw, come on Mom,” said Xavier. “It’s in great condition. And new backpacks smell weird.”

“What about the time you spilled milk on it?” she asked.

“The smell from that’s almost gone,” he said. “I just don’t want a new one.”

“All right, dear,” she said. “But if you ever want a new one, we can go to the store and get you one.”

Xavier nodded, put on his dark blue jacket, and went outside, leaning against the apple tree in front of the house, enjoying the scent of its spring blossoms in the chilly morning air. A few minutes later, he saw the bus coming down the street. It came to a stop and the door opened. Xavier got on and joined his friends Phillip and Kate by the back of the bus.

“So how was your spring break?” asked Kate.

“Just like a two-week weekend,” said Xavier. “We didn’t really do anything special.” He opened the front pocket of his backpack, pulled out a metal box of mints, and popped one into his mouth.

Kate shook her head, and grabbed a mint from Xavier’s box. “Poor you. I went to the Yucatan Peninsula and brought back half my weight in seashells.” She opened her own backpack and took out a plastic bag full of seashells and bits of coral.

“Last time I checked, you weren’t anorexic,” said Phillip. “Those can’t weigh more than a pound or two.”

“These are just the ones I’m risking at school. I don’t want some moron to steal the really good ones. I found a conch shell, but there’s no way I’m bringing it here so it can get stolen.”

“There’s no way anyone would steal something from you,” said Phillip, taking a bite out of a cookie from his lunchbox. “Remember in third grade when you tried to strangle Eric for stepping on your candy bar?”

Xavier chuckled, and then stopped as he saw Kate glaring at him.

“What? It’s true,” he said.

“Just stop it. I got grounded for two months after that.”

“Is there coral in there?” asked Xavier.

“Yes. Why?”

“Isn’t taking coral—illegal?”

“These were just broken-off bits on the beach. It’s not like I went underwater with a hacksaw.”

They continued talking for another fifteen minutes, until Jack Riders Elementary School came into view. Xavier and Phillip made their way into the sixth-grade classroom, while Kate walked off toward the fifth-grade room.

Xavier sat down at his desk at the back of the room with a sigh. He looked inside to make sure all his books were in order, listening to the sounds of the other students filing into the room. Xavier closed the desk and turned, staring out the wide window overlooking the playground at a pair of chickadees flitting among the branches of an oak tree.

Over the babble of conversation, Xavier suddenly heard a sharp tap. He sat up straight and turned forward, to see the teacher, Ms. Merra, who ran the class like an army battalion. She was holding a yardstick, which she had never used against any student, but had often threatened to.

“Now,” she said. “Before we start today’s first assignment, there is something I must say. We have a new student joining our class.”

Xavier opened his desk, not interested one bit, and took out his assigned reading book, opening it to the page where they had left off before the break. It had taken seven months, but they had finally gotten to a book Xavier actually liked. The last book had made Xavier feel like ripping out his own eyes.

Ms. Merra snapped her fingers. “Xavier, is there the secret of interdimensional travel in that book? Because if there isn’t, I suggest you pay attention.”

Xavier ignored her.

“So be it. Anyway, we have a new student. She moved her from California just last week. Please make Lily Adravinla feel right at home here. Okay?”

Xavier’s eyes widened, and he turned his head upward.

It has to be a coincid—

“You feeling okay there, Xav?” asked Phillip. “You look like she killed your old dog or something.”

Xavier did not respond. All his attention was fixed on Lily. Her gray eyes surveyed the room, as if looking for something on the wall. She brought up her left hand to brush her dark brown bangs out of her eyes, revealing a tattoo on the back of it. A tattoo of a lily blossom.