Secrets, Lies and Dragonflies

Chapter 31

As everyone files out, I spot my bulky backpack under my chair and pause. I don't recall bringing it to class, nor packing it so full.

Mr. Jordan reappears without Bridgett. "Ms. Temple. Please gather your things. We have much to cover."

"Right. Sorry about that." Quickly tossing the bag over my shoulder, I wonder how much time I have left before they cut me, too. It can't be long. Bridgett was definitely the better student.

Approaching the opened door, I realize it's completely dark outside. As in a clear, starry night kind of dark. Peering out into the soccer field, the others are nowhere to be found. I clear my throat before braving a question to Mr. Jordan. "Um, excuse me, but--"

"Come along, Mackenzie," Ms. Lois calls in the distance, still not visible.

"Please, Ms. Temple. The others are waiting," he says.

I nod, determined to beeline it straight to Christina and Monique. They must think this class is a bit strange, too. But the moment I attempt to step onto the green turf, I'm met by brilliant flashes as if a thousand photographers were snapping my picture from every direction. Instead of landing on the grassy ground, my foot sinks into a squishy, gritty substance. I can almost taste the salt in the air. Soon the blinding haze fades to reveal waves crashing against a beach as long as my eyes can see.

I spin around and can barely make out the frame of the door from which I just came. Seagulls are yelping overhead. Crowds of people blanket the area up and down the shoreline.

"You're not crazy. Just because we were in Mr. Jordan's classroom seconds ago doesn't mean we couldn't be on a beach. A beach, Mackenzie? Obviously that totally makes no sense." I've heard pinching yourself works if you're losing your mind. I do it--hard enough to make sure it hurts. "Ouch."

Nothing's different. I'm still here on a beach that doesn't really exist behind Landry High. Now I'm crazy and hurting myself.

Walking out from a cottage above the sand dunes without the medieval body armor, Ms. Eunice bounces past me in a hot pink sundress and straw hat with sides that flap in rhythm with her strides.

"I didn't know you were such a pokey one, Mackenzie." Her matching hot pink hoop earrings dangle at the mercy of the wind as she hustles down the beach.

I close my eyes and snap my fingers, confident it's a technique to 'poof' my way out of here and back to reality. Nothing happens. "Think, Mackenzie, think," I order myself.

"Don't think too hard, sweetheart. It's good to be childlike," says Ms. Lois, breezing by me in all white.

"I'm coming!" Mrs. Jordan calls from the frame of the doorway, waving at the small gathering forming in the distance. "Mackenzie? Why are you just standing here, honey? Let's catch up with the others, shall we?" She jogs away in a sporty ensemble she definitely wasn't wearing just a minute ago.

I can't move. Or breathe.

"Ah, yes. She suspected you would be the one." Mr. Jordan steps down onto the beach from the blurred classroom threshold with his pleated slacks, pressed shirt, grey jacket and tie.

He's heading my way—his eyes, rich with autumn browns and fiery flecks of orange, burn into me with every step he makes.

My heart pounds like a race horse. "I'm sorry. The one, sir?" This is the first time we've stood face-to-face. My knees tremble when I realize just how imposing he is. "Uh, I gotta be honest here. I don't understand how any of this is possible. I mean, how did we go from Landry High School with not a single ocean for miles to a...a beach? This whole situation is...is...well....it's completely impossible." My voice is quivering.

He won't stop staring and I'm too drawn into his gaze to turn away.  I'm nervous, but somehow not afraid, not of him anyway.  "Indeed. It is true then, young Mackenzie Temple of Landry High School. Though you lack knowledge, you are of the Thyatirans."

"I'm what? S- s- sorry, sir. I- I- don't understand. You're not making any sense. Actually, nothing is making any sense." I step back. "Look. I know I'm doing terrible in your class, so I think it's best I transfer out. It's just not really for me." I start toward the phantom classroom door.

Without saying a word, just as I skirt past him, Mr. Jordan does the most random thing. In his perfectly pressed business suit, the man plops down on the sand and sea shell covered ground and fixes his gaze on the ocean.

"Sir?"

He says nothing.

I hesitate in case he's having a stroke or seizure. Panicked, I realize I don't remember anything from that CPR class I took last year. But there are two lifeguard stands I can run to should this go south.

Finally he beaks his silence. "There's nothing more peaceful than this view. Don't you agree?"

"Um, sure?" I look out into the sea. "I guess? Um. I'm going to get going now, Mr. Jordan."

"You know, before I was a—" He pauses for a moment as if he were struggling to find the right word, "—teacher, I used to love to fish. There was nothing more simplistic than fishing. Cast a net out, pull it up, bring your catch to the market in exchange for goods then enjoy the rest of your time with friends and family."

"Yeah, sounds pretty simple." I smile slightly picturing him as a fisherman wearing big rubber overalls and covered in fish guts. "But I'm sure it was a bit more complicated than that. Life always is."

"Yes. That's right, Mackenzie. That's what makes you so different. Me—I was ignorant, or more befitting, arrogant, for so long to think my life was simplistic—all about me and what I wanted. Rest assured, I worked hard for what I wanted. And I was mostly good to others, never expected a handout from anyone. Even when I found out how wrong I had things, I was still stubborn." He shakes his head like a man with regrets. "But you on the other hand. You're different." His gaze softens. "Thyatirans are destined to overcome, you know. And to lead. Lead with the wisdom from the Counselor."

"Huh? Counselor? You mean, Counselor Cassie? How did you even know I was seeing her? And what does she have to do with—" I stop because I know what's happening. "Oh. I get it. Of course. I thought I was coping better, but obviously not." I point to Mr. Jordan. "You're, like, in my imagination, right?" 

 I don't wait for a response and start to pace, creating a long narrow rut in the sand.  My head fills with the absurdity of everything that's going on. "It was bound to happen. I mean, kind of brilliant, if you ask me, which I guess I am. You are me, after all. Right? Like a piece of my conscience? It's because I let her get in my head, isn't it? All this time, I've been able to skate through those stupid sessions unscathed. No one the wiser. For once, I actually confided in her about a real issue and now look what that did. I should have kept my mouth shut. Now she's messed with my head.  Making me question my friends.  Should I have picked that amazing writing class and not this Art History class? She did try to warn me. And now, this is what happens? Oh my gosh. I gotta get out of here. I'm completely unraveling."

"Unraveling? My goodness, Peter. What are you going on about with Mackenzie? For goodness sake, are you're frightening the poor girl?  I thought you agreed to wait for me."

When I realize who is in our company, I'm one hundred percent certain I've lost it.